Guy Finley responds to a question about the spiritual potential of autistic children, and reveals that the true responsibility of a caregiver is to first live up to their own potential.
Question: Any thoughts on what is a good way to share my spiritual work with my kids?
Answer: Be as consciously kind as you can be, which means to not express (but watch instead) your negative states. Be as encouraging as possible without producing false hope. Speak the truth at all times without being cruel or unnecessarily over-correcting. And when asked for what you think is right, dare to speak it in spite of the consequences.
Question: Is there a way in which to help and teach children in this work without shielding them from the necessary life events they need to learn from? How can one raise kids with this trueness?
Answer: We can do no different than we do with ourselves. And as we grow in spirit and in understanding, that very light not only protects us from what is dark and punishing, but it extends a certain kind of protection to all who are around us who depend upon us.
Question: The more I think I know about true spirituality, the more I become easily aggravated by the behavior of others when I hear them make an obviously false (spiritually) statement, or I observe their inconsistent behavior. I sense that part of my anger is seeing the inconsistency and false behavior in myself. What is the right way for me to handle these moments?
Answer: Stay with yourself. Don’t put yourself into what you observe. It doesn’t matter what anyone anywhere is doing or saying relative to your potential for inner development. The expression “The buck stops here” is valuable as long as we understand it to mean that these recurring blasts of unconscious energy we experience in moments such as these are to remain conscious within ourselves. We must not attribute their cause to someone or anything else outside of us. When we work with this truth and its instruction, then we begin to die to the blame-casting nature.
Question: My father has had cancer for about two years. Neither of us talk about dying. When a nurse asked him about dying, he said he was afraid he wouldn’t go to heaven. I would like to help in some way, but I’m also afraid to talk to him about it and I don’t really know what I would say.
Answer: We can’t really help anyone — in any given moment — more than we are willing to be honest about ourselves. In this instance (in all instances, really), what someone really wants (especially when facing his own mortality) is someone to talk to about their fears without being hammered by a bunch of nonsense from people who know nothing about what they profess. But we have all practiced pretense for so long with each other that virtually no one today can sit down and just listen and then speak from his or her heart about what they just heard. Even more than this… people intuit that we aren’t really there for them, but rather to soothe our own guilts… so to what end speak of anything? What your father needs is a friend; and it’s not too late to initiate this new relationship with him. No pretense. No past. No posturing. Just sit down and be a living invitation, through your own honesty, to talk to each other like two mortals who have not understood the immediacy of their own imminent mortality. Start there… and see what happens.