While reading an article in Shambhala Sun recently ("Living in the Age of Distraction" by Margaret Wheatley, May, 2013), I came upon this quote from Rumi: "Sit down and be quiet. You are drunk and this is the edge of the roof."   

Every now and again, it is good to know that there is a wisdom within us which continually monitors what is going on in our lives and will speak up and warn us when corrective action is needed. Of course, we must have ears to hear.

The gist of the article is that technology changes us. This doesn't make us (or the technology) bad, but it does change us, both as individuals and the collective consciousness we are. Prior to the invention of the printing press, people gathered together to tell stories and share information, and we began losing much of our oral tradition at that time. Goodness knows, I don't think the ability to print books is a bad thing! However... while my own library is proof that I've given books my whole-hearted stamp of approval, I also recognize that they have, at times, functioned as a drug and as a tool for avoidance. It is my long-held belief that pretty much every "thing" in our day-to-day lives is neutral. What really matters is the consciousness we bring to it. This reflects my agreement with our third Unity principle that "Human beings create their experience by the activity of their thinking. Everything in the manifest realm has its beginning in thought."

My Sunday lesson this week revolved around the work of assimilating our awareness of the Christ within into our daily lives. We talk about the "spark of the Divine" within, and we claim Jesus as our Master Teacher and Way Shower, as the great example of life well-lived, an exemplar of the integration of the fully-human/fully divine life. At some point, we must stop talking and actually BE the Christ we are. I suggested that we look at this as a two-step process: (a) claim the genuine intention to live our lives in this manner to the absolute best of our ability and (b) pause periodically and listen for guidance as to how we might, in any given moment, proceed in that moment to express the Christ at the point we are.

This morning, as most mornings, I enjoyed a period of meditation, reading, prayer, contemplation, and just sitting with the birds, lizards and beautiful bougainvillea in my back yard. I do an email check-in with my prayer partner each morning, so I used my iPad to share my daily prayer of intention to live in alignment with the Truth of What We Are. Then I moved into Facebook. Over an hour later, I heard Rumi's voice: "Sit down and be quiet. This is the edge of the roof and you are drunk."

Facebook is not bad. For me, however, it is a distraction and a tool of avoidance. I sometimes claim that I "don't have time" to do artwork, or cook more nourishing meals, or return to yoga class. Really? Less than 24 hours after standing in front of a room full of friends who have trusted me to share my understanding of Truth, Rumi's words reminded me that I was "drunk", i.e. distracted, and completely oblivious to my own Wisdom. Just this very morning I had again claimed that intention, and I no sooner shared that intention with my prayer partner than I allowed myself to be distracted from it simply by clicking on an icon.

Please don't hear this as a tirade against technology in general or Facebook in particular. That would be just another example of placing blame, another example of resistance and belief in victimhood. No, what I realized this morning is that being the Christ in expression requires me to be honest about the choices I make. It doesn't really matter if I use that hour of my human lifetime to do artwork or cook or take a walk or read posts on Facebook, as long as I am doing whatever I do in integrity. 

Claiming an intention to assimilate the expression of the Christ into my day-to-day life and then allowing myself to be mindlessly drawn into distraction is not living in alignment with my stated intention. Since I have recognized and accepted "Integrity" as one of my core values, it would appear I have a choice to make, wouldn't it? "Compassion" is also one of my core values, so I'm not going to beat myself up about it, either. What I will do is choose again, each and every time I become aware that I'm close to walking off the edge of the roof.  It really just comes back to that, choosing again, over and over and over...