Chatting with a friend recently, I was reminded of a quote from the movie, Starman, which if I remember correctly was made in the early 1980s.  Within a scene near the end during which a woman is accompanying the extra-terrestrial visitor to a pick-up site where he will be retrieved by a spaceship piloted by others of his species, he turns to the woman and asks, "Do you know what it is about humanity that so fascinates us?  It is that you are at your best when things are at their worst."  
    What a marvelous possibility to consider–that we may each be undiscovered treasures, never fully knowing of what we are capable until circumstances demand more of us than what we previously thought we could do.  Even within such moments, however, we must choose to let that inner light out.
    From there, the conversation with my friend shifted to discussion of Carl Sagan's movie, "Contact," starring Jody Foster.  "What was the message of the extra-terrestrial?" my friend inquired.  I strove to remember for a long moment before answering, "that we are capable of such beautiful dreams and such horrible nightmares and that we worry that we are alone in the universe, and nothing could be further from the truth."
    All that being said, humanity does seem to have a persistent weakness for quickly forgetting anything that not immediately visible.  "Out of sight, out of mind," the old saying goes.  It may therefore be that among the most important mile-markers of spiritual and personal growth, is that of retaining awareness of what is unseen but either directly or by lingering effect nevertheless somehow present.
    Becoming a whole and complete human being, therefore, is a matter of being the incarnation of a juxtaposition of both material and spiritual components.  It is not only the chemical composition of our bodies, but also the integration of particular and unique consciousness.  We may agree on certain things, but no one thinks or feels completely and exactly the anyone else does.  An unending paradox and

challenge of our species, therefore, is that we must exist as both separate and inter-related simultaneously.  To do only one or the other would be a manifestation of some sort of psychological dysfunction or pathology.  Similarly, a human brain has both right and left halves which are both essential, but involved in very different activities.  I have occasionally also described the simultaneous contrast and symbiotic relationship of masculine and feminine energy; that one is the lines and the other the spaces; that one is the form and the other is the essence; and that one is active organizer and the other the passive nurturer.  Both, by whatever name or metaphor, are absolutely essential.  
    All that being said, there are still countless examples of times when contrasting aspects are not available and whatever remains must find ways to carry on, to cope, to endure, and (hopefully) ultimately to triumph.  On so very many occasions throughout my life, I have longed for a mentor or a teacher who could assist me in becoming the man God created me to be–but the creative work of my own life is so without precedent, that the answers I needed could not be found anywhere outside of myself.  Perhaps this is the case for many other people as well.
    It is not that we should not listen to mentors, teachers, ministers, and so forth, but rather that we must always remember that the best answer given by the wisest human being, still may not be the correct answer for our particular individual question.  I imagine I have frustrated a great many teachers and friends over the years, asking questions too profound to ever be answered in haste.  
    This was the case when I recently I found myself in a conversation with a self-described atheist, attempting to describe spiritual realities in as broad and neutral of terms as possible.  That each human being has a spiritual nature of some sort, I have no doubt; it is what gives us the ability to love, to discern right from wrong, to imagine, and to relate constructively to appropriate cycles of birth and death within our communities.  
    I have already become very aware that many people cannot conceive of spirituality or the Divine existing beyond the boundaries of institutionalized religion.  In reflecting upon the vast quantity of religious abuse that has saturated Europe (and perhaps also America) for millennia, I found myself wondering if a phase of relating to spirituality without any personification of the Divine might in fact be a necessary ingredient within recovery from the effects of spiritual abuse.  In a way perhaps similar to that of a victim of spousal abuse, who would be well-advised to remain single for a time in order to create psychological health and a sort of recommendable grounded centeredness in being the individual he or she genuinely is, before again attempting the integration of two personalities into a single marriage relationship, it may very well be that God understands and values the healing of the individual who has been victimized by religious abuse, enough to allow that person a time of freedom from all of the usual terminology, expectations, and religious structures that were negatively employed.  
    If we have the audacity to believe that someone or something as transcendent as Divine Mystery would engage in a relationship of love with us–and there does seem to be an enormous amount of testimony, evidence, and experience to support the possibility of such paranormal reality–then we would do well to welcome that incomprehensible love and to remember that there is nothing within our limited material reality capable of preventing Its miraculously healing work–and we don't even need a name for the Author of the work, since the Author seems far more concerned about the quality of the work, than about being given credit for it.  Perhaps that's a strategy to consider for ourselves as well.
    May one and all and everything, blessed and loved ever be.