This morning, one of my friends posted this this quote on Facebook:

There must be always remaining in every life some place for the singing of angels, some place for that which in itself is breathless and beautiful. -Howard Thurman

It immediately reminded of this passage from A Course in Miracles, which I want to share with you here:

Listen, –perhaps you catch a hint of an ancient state not quite forgotten; dim, perhaps, and yet not altogether unfamiliar, like a song whose name is long forgotten; and the circumstances in which you heard [it] completely unremembered. Not the whole song has stayed with you, but just a little wisp of melody, attached not to a person or a place or anything particular. But you remember, from just this little part, how lovely was the song, how wonderful the setting where you heard it, and how you loved those who were there and listened with you.

The notes are nothing. Yet you have kept them with you, not for themselves, but as a soft reminder of what would make you weep if you remembered how dear it was to you. You could remember, yet you are afraid, believing you would lose the world you learned since then. And yet you know that nothing in the world you learned is half so dear as this. Listen, and see if you remember an ancient song you knew so long ago and held more dear than any melody you taught yourself to cherish since.

Beyond the body, beyond the sun and stars, past everything you see and yet somehow familiar, is an arc of golden light that stretches as you look into a great and shining circle. And all the circle fills with light before your eyes. The edges of the circle disappear, and what is in it is no longer contained at all. The light expands and covers everything, extending to infinity forever shining and with no break or limit anywhere. Within it everything is joined in perfect continuity. Nor is it possible to imagine that anything could be outside, for there is nowhere that this light is not.

This is the vision of the Daughter of Goddess, whom you know well. Here is the sight of her who knows her Mother. Here is the memory of what you are; a part of this, with all of it within, and joined to all as surely as all is joined in you. Accept the vision that can show you this, and not the body. You know the ancient song, and know it well. Nothing will ever be as dear to you as is this ancient hymn the Daughter of Goddess sings to her Mother still.

And now the blind can see, for that same song they sing in honor of their Creator gives praise to them as well. The blindness that they made will not withstand the memory of this song. And they will look upon the vision of the Daughter of Goddess, remembering who she is they sing of. What is a miracle but this remembering? And who is there in whom this memory lies not? The light in one awakens it in all. And when you see it in your sister, you are remembering for everyone.

(T:21:I:6-10.)  Song and singing have become a vital part of my life and my spiritual practice, whether I am singing only in my thoughts, aloud in the car as I drive along or in gatherings in churches and other places where people go to be reminded of the truth of who they are.

Thank you, Goddess, for the gift of song.

Somehow, this poem seemed particularly appropriate when I read it this morning.

The Sun in Drag

You are the Sun in Drag.

You are God[dess] hiding from yourself.

Remove all the “mine” – that is the veil.

Why ever worry about

Anything?

Listen to what your friend Hafiz

Knows for certain:

The appearance of this world is a Magi’s brilliant trick, though its affairs are

Nothing into nothing.

You are a divine elephant with amnesia

Trying to live in an ant

Hole.

Sweetheart, O sweetheart

You are God[dess] in

Drag!

– The Gift: Poems by Hafiz, The Great Sufi Master, Translations by Daniel Landinsky, p. 252

Last night, one of my dreams came true – I started a Course in Miracles study group here in my home. There were four of us—Carol Lee, Maureen S., Betty Lou and I – and it was wonderful! It’s amazing how nurturing it is for me to sit in a circle of loving women – fellow searchers – and talk about myself and the Universe, about what I have learned from the Course, how I learned it and how it has transformed my life. (Except for Carol Lee, little do they know how much the Course has transformed me.)

Thank you, Goddess, for bringing this gift into my life.

P.S.  Although I returned to the Wildflower Bread Company for lunch after church this last Sunday, I didn’t see Julie and she hasn’t called me.  I’m not worried.  I trust that Spirit will cause our paths to cross again if it is meant to be.

Welcome, all and sundry to my musings on A Course in Miracles (sometimes, abbreviated “ACIM”).  I’m not sure how this blog will develop, but I’ve been thinking for a long time about finding a place to share my thoughts and my experience from studying the Course.  (ACIM is not, of course, the only path to knowledge of who we are, as it makes clear in the Preface.  But it’s just too awkward to say “a Course” every time.)  Please join me on this journey.  We have much to learn from each other.