We all have goals — things we want to achieve, places we want to go, experiences we want to have. But there’s a big difference between chasing outcomes and living from a vision. One is rooted in the external world and often leaves us feeling exhausted and unsatisfied. The other arises from a deeper place — a spiritual vision — and when we align with that, life begins to unfold with more ease, grace, and meaning. In The Four Sacred Secrets, Sri Preethaji and Sri Krishnaji remind us that living with a spiritual vision isn’t about adding one more thing to our already busy to-do list. It’s about waking up to why we are here and allowing that deeper awareness to guide every choice, every interaction, and every creation. A spiritual vision becomes our inner compass. It’s not about what we want to achieve; it’s about who we are here to become and how we want to serve. Science of Mind teaches the same principle. Ernest Holmes wrote, “Life is a mirror and will reflect back to the thinker what he thinks into it.” The inner vision we hold — that deep, consistent image of ourselves and our place in the universe — shapes the outer circumstances of our lives. When we hold a vision rooted in love, service, abundance, and divine purpose, we naturally magnetize experiences that align with that consciousness. For me, this is really about being mindful of where I put my energy. Am I spending my time and attention fussing over things I can’t control? Or am I focusing on the things that bring me joy and expand my heart? The truth is, wherever we place our focus, we create more of that — so why not make it something that lights us up? We recently held a community visioning at Light on the Mountains, and one of my favorite things about group visioning is how aligned the responses always are. There’s something so powerful about witnessing Spirit speak through many voices with one shared heartbeat. As you call forth your perfect full-time minister, you already hold a collective vision of what you want this community to be. And now, it’s time to be that — to embody the Infinite and sacred community you envision: living love, joy, connection, and wholeness right here, right now. This Sunday, Sara Gorman will be speaking, and she shared a beautiful quote from Paul Selig’s book I Am the Word: “I see with the eyes of the Christ.” Sara reminds us that “this is similar to the meaning of Namaste — ‘the God in me sees the God in you.’ When we learn to see with the eyes of the Divine within us, we begin to see only the Divine everywhere.” And what a beautiful spiritual vision that is — not just for ourselves, but for our community and the world. This week, I invite you to pause each morning and ask yourself, “What vision am I choosing to live from today?” Notice how your thoughts, choices, and interactions shift when you consciously anchor yourself in that higher awareness. And as you move through your day, practice “seeing with the eyes of the Divine” — in yourself, in others, and in every situation. You might be surprised at how much more beauty, connection, and possibility reveals itself when you do. Remind yourself: “I see with the eyes of the Christ.”

The Third Sacred Secret: Awaken to Universal Intelligence How are you in relationships? I know, that might sound like an odd question — but really, how we show up in our relationships says a lot about how we’re showing up in our relationship with the Divine. Ernest Holmes once said, “Everything we see—plants, animals, humans, every visible thing—is a manifestation of God, differing only in degree. And every manifestation contains, in essence, the whole, just as one drop of ocean water holds the same essence as the entire sea.” If I believe that’s true — and I do — then everything and everyone I’m in relationship with (including myself) is the Divine in form. Two Lenses, Two Lives I tend to see my life through two lenses. The first lens is from the time when I didn’t know I was connected to anything greater — the years filled with pain, emotional and physical abuse, and a lot of numbing through alcohol and drugs. The second lens began when I discovered The Science of Mind teachings through Religious Science (now Centers for Spiritual Living). That’s when I found sobriety and started to actually feel my connection with everything around me. Before that awakening, my relationships — with others and with myself — were rooted in self-doubt, fear, dislike (sometimes even hatred), and a deep sense of not belonging. I didn’t like myself, so I attracted partners who reinforced that image. I didn’t respect myself, so I didn’t get much respect in return. And when I finally walked away, I’d find someone new who mirrored the same story right back to me. So What Changed? Me. Fast forward — I’ve now been with my husband for 22 years, married for 19. Before him, my relationships rarely lasted more than eight years. I used to joke that my longest relationships were with my dogs. Back then, I lived in a constant state of hurt, judgment, and avoidance. All relationships start with promise (otherwise, why start them at all?). But once the “honeymoon” fades, those little comments, gestures, and annoyances start to sting. And since most of us were never taught how to actually talk about our hurts, we bury them. And you know what buried hurts become? Mountains. Because molehills don’t stay small forever. Once we start judging or labeling our partner, it’s not long before we start wondering why we’re even in the relationship at all — forgetting that this is the same person we were once crazy about. How I Finally Broke the Cycle So how did I move from abusive, toxic relationships to a marriage built on love, respect, and mutual cherishing? First, I had to find myself. No one on this planet — soulmate or otherwise — can complete you. You have to complete yourself. You have to love yourself so fully that anyone who comes into your life is simply the icing on your cake. If you expect someone to fill your empty spaces, you’re setting yourself (and them) up for disappointment. No one can live up to unspoken expectations — especially the ones we don’t even realize we have. Once you’ve found yourself and meet someone who sparks your interest, be honest. Be open. Be vulnerable. It’s not easy, but when you show up authentically from the start, there are no surprises later. And if your truth scares someone away, they weren’t your person. Don’t shrink yourself to fit into a relationship. You’ll only resent it later — and trust me, if you get married, divorce isn’t cheap (financially or emotionally). And maybe most importantly: don’t project your emotions onto your partner — or anyone else. Learn to pause and ask yourself, What’s really going on here? Then do the inner work to move through it. Because when you do, you’ll find yourself living from a place of peace, love, and authentic connection — a true reflection of the Divine within you. And for those of you who’ve already figured this out — thank you for lighting the way. I’m beyond grateful to finally be living what I used to only hope for: a relationship built on love, honesty, and laughter.

So, what is Spiritual Right Action? In The Four Sacred Secrets, Spiritual Right Action “is performed when we’re no longer desperately trying to control the flow of life but, instead, are responding to life as it arises from a powerful state of consciousness.” That, in and of itself, is a powerful spiritual practice. Speaking for myself, the real question becomes: Can I give up my doubts, my fears, my monkey mind, and step into the absolute knowingness that I am always connected to that which created all, is all, sees all, and knows all? I’m good at this when life is going well. But when I’m thrown a curveball, I sometimes forget. I want to start controlling people, places, and things — because in that moment, I evidently think I know more than, as Ernest Holmes so lovingly called it, The Thing Itself. When Life Throws a Curveball Recently, as many of you know, our bank account was hacked. By the time I caught it, the hackers had taken over $7,000. I’ll be honest — I got caught up in the fear, the anger, and the guilt. Yes, guilt. Because as smart as I like to think I am about scammers and hackers, I had let them into my account. It took three long days and a mountain of frustration to finally get fraud tickets issued with my bank. Once that happened, I went from feeling like a victim to just feeling… numb. On the fourth day, I was pulled out of my funk by an amazing community of people whose energy helped lift me. Then, on the fifth day, I wrote a letter to God. I said: “I know my money that was removed from my account is put back easily and effortlessly, and it is done quickly.” I dissolved my inner conflict and let it go. On day six, all the money was returned to our account. What I Learned What I realized — finally — was that not only had the hackers stolen our money, I had let them steal my peace of mind. I had let them pull me away from my faith and fill me with doubt, fear, and self-recrimination. The truth is, my emotions and my responses to what life throws at me are my responsibility. I’m not suggesting we avoid our emotions. I’m suggesting we become acutely aware of them — and then consciously decide whether we’re willing to change how we feel about something. How I Return to My Sense of Self Here are the steps I use to move through stuck emotions and return to the knowingness of my innate perfection: I let myself feel what I feel. I don’t cover it up or mask it. My human self is allowed to express its hurt and pain. But I don’t build a house there and hang pictures on the wall, becoming a permanent victim of the experience. When I’m ready, I choose to heal the feeling. Holding on to emotions that don’t serve me keeps me out of the present moment — and can eventually manifest physically. I journal. Getting the story out of my head and onto paper gives it shape and space, rather than letting it run on an endless loop inside me. I reach out for support. Sometimes that means a therapist, sometimes a prayer practitioner, sometimes a trusted friend. I talk to God. I may write a letter or simply speak out loud, but I always bring it to that Higher Intelligence. I let it go. This can be the hardest part. And yet, at some point, I must decide: Is my happiness worth more than staying stuck? So far, the answer has always been YES. Why It Matters We can’t create — or be truly creative — when we’re in a state of inner conflict. Finding our Sense of Self isn’t just a gift we give ourselves (though that is reason enough). It’s also a gift to the people around us. Our energy matters. The vibration we put into the world makes a difference. So I ask you: What impact are you having on your own well-being?

We Believe in the Unity of ALL Life In October 1927, in the very first issue of Science of Mind magazine, Ernest Holmes published what became The Science of Mind Declaration of Principles: What We Believe. In it, he wrote: “We believe in the unity of all life, and that the highest God and the innermost God is one God. We believe that God is personal to all who feel this Indwelling Presence.” Did you catch that? He didn’t say some—he said all. That’s a pretty tall order: to believe in the unity of all life and to know that people who don’t think, act, or believe like me still have a personal relationship with God. And yet, that’s exactly what Holmes invites us into—a consciousness where everyone is part of the Divine whole. But how do we live that out in a world divided around, well… almost everything? Let’s start with the basics. Remove our outer layer—the skin around our frame—and we’re pretty much the same. I know, I know, some of you just jumped to, “But what about this… or that…?” Sure, there are differences, but overall, we’re far more alike than different on the inside. Did you know that we humans are born with only two innate fears? 1️⃣ The fear of falling 2️⃣ The fear of loud noises That’s it. Every other fear is learned—through experience, conditioning, or culture. Think about that for a moment. Every other fear, phobia, or dislike, we’ve picked up along the way. And that’s okay—unless we use those learned fears to make other people wrong. I have my list of things I don’t like (don’t we all?). But the real question is: when do my dislikes keep me from listening to another person? I personally got off social media because it proved toxic for my soul. Recently, I learned something that confirmed my choice: outrage equals engagement, and engagement equals profit. Algorithms are designed to feed us what keeps us angry—not what keeps us kind or connected. I’m not saying you have to do the same, but I do think it’s wise to be aware. So what if, the next time someone says something you disagree with, instead of rushing to your “side,” you paused—listened—became curious—and asked kind questions? Because here’s the truth: We the People are the only ones who can stop the wildfire of hatred, misinformation, and unlikability that’s spreading through our world. This isn’t a political rally cry. It’s a call to simple human decency, respect, and honor. We believe in the unity of ALL life. I wish I could tell you I’m really good at this—but the truth is, I’m still a work in progress. How about you?

“But the person who goes deeply into [their] own nature will find that God speaks in a language more subtle than the human language, without a tongue, in that universal language of spiritual emotion which is instinctive in humanity, and in brute, and held in common by all civilization, by all creation, by all people who have lived—the universal language of emotion, sense, feeling, intuition, instinct. Sometimes we call it conscience, sometimes we call it a hunch, sometimes we call it a vision, a dream. It makes no difference what we call it. It is a direct revelation of Omniscience through us.” ~Ernest Holmes, Can We Talk to God?, p. 11.4 I sometimes forget the sage wisdom of Ernest Holmes until I stumble upon a passage like this—something I may have read before but somehow missed. His words are both mystical and deeply practical. Reading this again today, I realized I had no memory of the quote. And yet, it feels brand new and achingly familiar at the same time. That’s the beauty of spiritual growth: we meet truth again and again, each time with new eyes, a new heart, a new awareness. Holmes reminds us that beneath the words, beneath the personalities and differences, there’s a shared language—the universal current of emotion, sense, feeling, intuition, and instinct. It’s the pulse of God expressing through all creation. And maybe that’s what it means to love the unlikable—to look past the surface of behavior or belief and listen for the beneathness, that subtle divine language within every soul. When I pause long enough to hear it, judgment softens. Compassion rises. Love expands. The practice, of course, is not always easy. It asks us to sit in discomfort, to breathe through irritation, to remember that every person—yes, even the ones who push our buttons—is an expression of the Infinite. To love the unlikable doesn’t mean to condone harm or ignore boundaries; it means we seek to understand the divine spark beneath the behavior. That’s the work of consciousness, and it’s the heart of spiritual maturity. Today, I began a new journey of self-discovery—a 13-month mentorship program exploring multiple modalities of spirituality and healing. When asked what my intention was, I said, “To become an open channel for God; to be a safe space where others may discover their own divinity.” For me, it’s like jumping off the edge of my comfort zone and free-falling into the abyss, trusting that the universal language of the Divine will guide me as I build my net on the way down. That’s faith in action—the willingness to live from the beneathness, trusting the unseen currents of Spirit to hold and guide me. That’s the invitation of “the beneathness”—to dwell in the depth where God still whispers, beyond words, beyond reason, beyond resistance. Today, may we choose to listen beneath the noise and remember the universal language of Love.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Opinions are like… noses; everybody has one.” Our opinions are shaped by our individual experiences. They are our personal beliefs about things, and our beliefs are formulated over time based on our likes, dislikes, and perceptions. When I was in sixth grade, I had an experience where I was ostracized by all the girls who had been my “friends.” The episode may have lasted only a few weeks, but in my memory it felt like months. From that experience, I created a belief that girls—women—could not be trusted. I believed I had to guard my feelings and emotions, because others might use them against me. That belief became an opinion about people, based on something that really happened. The fact was, those girls did exclude me. The opinion was, “women can’t be trusted.” Facts can be tricky. A fact is something that appears to be objectively verifiable — something measurable, observable, or commonly agreed upon. And yet, facts change. What was once considered factual in science, culture, or even in our own memories can shift as new information emerges. Over time, I came to see that my sixth-grade experience was one small event, not a universal truth. I created new experiences (new “facts”) and discovered that women could, in fact, be some of the most loyal and loving friends imaginable. In The New Thought Dictionary, Truth is defined as: “In its universal sense, The Truth means God, Spirit, Reality; in a lesser sense, the word truth designates anything that is true – a psychological truth, a spiritual truth, a physical truth.” And in The Basic Ideas of Science of Mind, Ernest Holmes reminds us: “We need to keep clearly in mind the difference between a fact, something that is evident and concrete, and a truth, that which everlastingly is, whether we can see it or not.” So, I had a very human experience (a fact) and created opinions based on those facts. Yet the Truth remains: God is over us, around us, through us, and as us. We experience our Divinity at the level of our consciousness. As souls ever expanding, I wonder sometimes if humanity is still learning the same lessons, over and over. History repeats itself—not because Truth changes, but because we forget to apply it. It’s said that the average American now consumes about 34 gigabytes of information a day. That’s an extraordinary amount of data to process! With so much information coming at us, discernment becomes a spiritual practice. Discernment helps us ask: Is this information true or merely opinion? If it’s fact, what is it based on? Will it still be a fact six months from now? And it reminds us: It’s always okay to change your mind when you receive new facts. Change is the one constant of life on this earthly plane. In the introduction to the 1938 edition of The Science of Mind, Ernest Holmes wrote: “We are not bound by precedent. We are not slaves to any tradition. The revelation of Truth is not closed to the human mind. We are open to the influx of new thought, to the receptive awareness of new ideas.” He later condensed that to the phrase we know so well: “Open at the top.” This doesn’t mean our philosophy changes; it means we are willing to look at new ways to apply Ancient Wisdom. When we do, we truly embody what it means to have a New Thought.

I had no idea what “kith” meant, so I figured I should start there—because I bet I’m not alone. Lyanda Lynn Haupt, in Rooted: Life at the Crossroads of Science, Nature, and Spirit, writes: “Where kin are relations of kind, kith is relationship based on knowledge of place—the close landscape, ‘one’s square mile,’ where each tree and neighbor and robin and fox and stone is known, not by map or guide but by heart. Kith is intimacy with a place, its landmarks, its fragrance, the habits of its wildlings. Kithship enlivens kinship.” ~pp. 25–26 (Kindle Edition) It’s a fascinating concept, especially now that my life is lived between two “kiths.” I spend 10–12 days each month in the Wood River Valley of Idaho—what many people know simply as Sun Valley—and the rest of my time in my new home of Bellingham, Washington. Both are stunningly beautiful, and both offer something very different to the heart. My Kith of Bellingham If you’ve never been to Washington—or Bellingham, for that matter—let me share a bit of the landscape that lives inside me. Bellingham sits at sea level and yes, Western Washington earns its reputation for rain. That rain is why everything is so green, so lush, so alive. Because we are further north (only 21 miles from the Canadian border!), winter brings more snow and crisp air. We are a land of water—lakes, rivers, streams—and the city itself opens into Bellingham Bay at the northern edge of Puget Sound. Washington has five major volcanoes, and I have always lived near one. Right now, I’m only 27 miles from Mt. Baker. My neighborhood has deer, squirrels, and occasionally a black bear who wanders through like he owns the place. (And honestly, he probably thinks he does.) My Kith of the Wood River Valley My kith in the Valley is new; my first visit was in May—and yes, it snowed that weekend. The average altitude is about 5,500 feet, depending on where you stand. The Valley is made up of four towns—Bellevue, Hailey, Ketchum, and Sun Valley—each with its own charm. I love the Aspen trees. In fall they turn brilliant reds and yellows, and when the wind moves through them, they “quack.” It’s a sound that goes straight to the soul. And the elk—oh my goodness, the elk. Herds of them. They sit at the roadside during evening traffic, waiting patiently for cars to thin so they can cross to where they sleep for the night. The speed limit is lowered at dusk—nobody wants to meet an elk at 55 mph. I’ve become quite enchanted with the Magpies, too. Maybe that would change if I lived there full-time, but for now they feel magical and beautiful. And then there is Light on the Mountains. The first time I saw it, I literally stopped the car. It takes your breath away. Kith, Kin, and Science of Mind So what does any of this have to do with the teachings of Science of Mind? In our Declaration of Principles, Ernest Holmes writes: “We believe in God, the Living Spirit Almighty; one, indestructible, absolute, and self-existent Cause. This One manifests Itself in and through all creation, but is not absorbed by Its creation. The manifest universe is the body of God; it is the logical and necessary outcome of the infinite self-knowingness of God.” I look at my life in two sections: before discovering the Science of Mind teachings and after. One of the greatest differences is my awareness—my connection to my “kith,” the place where I stand in the moment, and my connection to my “kin,” which for me is all humanity. It is important to remember we are all connected energetically. I’m not always fond of that idea—and yet I know it’s true, because I believe “the manifest universe is the body of God.” Which means everything—every tree, every human, every elk, every raindrop—is Divine Intelligence expressing Itself in form. And because of that truth, it matters what I think, how I feel, what I say, how I react. We are not isolated little islands; we are dominos in a vast field of consciousness. So I’ll leave you with these questions: What are your predominant thoughts today? Are you noticing the beauty of the place you inhabit—your own kith? Or are you complaining about the weather? Are you offering grace to the people you encounter? Or are you judging their appearance or behavior? We are responsible for the reality we create. I may not always notice the beauty or feel the connection, and yet every single day, I am doing my best. And that’s all any of us can do—show up awake, aware, and willing to be part of the great weaving of kith, kin, and the Divine expressing as each of us.

I know nothing about octopuses; although I just learned it is not octopi – who knew? Another interesting fact is that I’ve been carrying around a horoscope I clipped from a newspaper. I don’t know how long I’ve had it—probably less than a year—but I’ve kept it tucked in my purse because it made me smile. It reads: “Octopuses have three hearts, each with a different function. Every one of their eight limbs contains a mini-brain, giving them nine in total. Is there any doubt, then, that they are the patron creature for you Pisceans?…” Now you can pooh-pooh astrology if you want; the point isn’t the horoscope but the feeling it sparked. Something about it delighted me. It woke up a tiny spark of wonder—like the soft tap of Spirit saying, See? There’s more magic here than you remember. In Atlas of the Heart, Brené Brown reminds us, “Awe and wonder are essential to the human experience. Both awe-inspiring events and experiences that leave us filled with wonder often make us feel small compared to our expansive universe. Small, but connected to each other and to the largeness itself.” Life is interesting. As children, we swim in awe and wonder like fish in water. Our whole lives are one big “Wow!” The world is enormous and surprising. But somewhere along the way—between deadlines, responsibilities, appointments, and trying to appear like we have it all together—many of us slowly lose that shimmer. We trade wonder for routine. We replace awe with efficiency. Yes, every now and then something startles us back into amazement, but mostly we function from a place of “been there, done that.” It has taken me time, intention, and a gentle softening to find my way back to looking with the eyes of a child. Now I notice things that used to slide right past me. I’ve been alive 26,936 days. That’s 26,936 sunrises and sunsets. Granted, I live in Washington where we don’t always see them—but they happen whether we notice or not. And I wonder: How many of them did I miss simply because I didn’t stop long enough to look? I have a friend who goes outside on her patio every single morning specifically to greet the sunrise. She treats it like a sacred appointment. Something about that devotion inspires me. These may seem like little things, but they are FREE gifts from the Divine. No subscription. No password. No membership required. Just grace—offered new every morning. Now I pause to watch deer grazing in the yard, or a squirrel streak across the fence carrying… well, something important to him. I notice the miracle that’s woven into the ordinary. These gifts don’t care how old we are, what we believe, or what mistakes we’ve made. They simply ask us to pay attention. And in the grand scheme of things, does it really matter how many Facebook friends we have? Or how well our favorite team is doing? Isn’t it far more nourishing to play shuffleboard bowling (yes, it’s a thing—I’ve witnessed it!) with the friends standing right in front of you? To wander through town in search of the best ice cream? To let yourself play again? Because here’s what I’m learning: When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to grow up. And now—after all these days, all these sunrises, all these missed and rediscovered moments—I’m learning to be a kid all over again. To wonder. To notice. To laugh. To be delighted for no reason at all. To remember that the Divine hides in plain sight. Maybe that’s the real wisdom of the octopus: nine brains, three hearts, and zero hesitation when it comes to exploring life’s mysteries. If they can manage that, surely I can manage one more sunrise.

Ernest Holmes writes: “We can sit in the shade or move into the sunshine. Sitting in the shadow we may not really believe that there is any sunshine. But the sun would be there all the time and all the time we are in bondage the real freedom exists. It is there but we must awake to It.” ~Science of Mind, p. 411.3 This quote describes my life story—and I know it resonates with many who have walked their way into a new life. It doesn’t matter how we arrived at our awakening; what matters is that it brought us belonging, peace, and love. If your path led you there, then YES—celebrate it. We tend to talk about “shadow” more in winter when the days grow short. And if you think about it, our literal shadow appears when the sun is brightest. It shows up because there is light. Every one of us has a shadow—not because we are bad or broken, but because we are human. It’s the part we don’t usually want to reveal, because it doesn’t feel loving, kind, or joyful. And yet, in its true essence, the shadow is not negative at all. It is simply: unloved, unseen, unintegrated. Yes, it holds the energies we label “dark”: shame, guilt, fear, unworthiness. And it also holds our disowned brilliance—our power, creativity, confidence, and boldness—wrapped in layers of protection. My own path to the light—and to owning my shadow—came through Centers for Spiritual Living. I spent most of my early years, into adulthood, as a high-functioning drug addict and alcoholic. And on some level, I believed I deserved to be miserable. When I walked into my first “church,” something shifted instantly. I felt a sense of belonging I had never experienced before. That community, that teaching, that atmosphere of unconditional acceptance—that was my path to redemption. And it became my path to sobriety. Here’s the funny twist: my sobriety story is also part of my shadow. I didn’t go through a traditional recovery program—those programs are powerful and save millions of lives. My sobriety came through the teachings of Ernest Holmes. After 23 years clean and sober, people assume I walked a familiar path, and when I explain mine, some want to doubt its validity. And that’s what the shadow is: the parts of ourselves we resist owning—whether it’s our brilliance or our insecurities. Stepping into the light doesn’t eliminate the shadow. It simply doesn’t allow it to drive the bus. So, let me be honest: when I’m hungry, angry, lonely, or tired—my shadow grabs the wheel and aims for the ditch. That’s when I pause, breathe, and ask: “What are you trying to show me? What needs healing now?” And then I gently return to the driver’s seat of my life. Life is a journey. We will all have “days.” But those days do not get to define us—unless we hand them the keys. The light is always there. Freedom is always there. Wholeness is always there. Just like Holmes said: “The sun would be there all the time… but we must awake to It.” And every time we wake up—every time we re-claim our seat in the driver’s chair—we bring another piece of the shadow into the light and discover, again and again, that we are whole.