Walking Through Walls — A Course in Miracles Days 1–4

“You will be able to walk through walls,” a 95-year-old man promised me.

That’s curious. Because I’ve always wanted to walk through a wall. Not like Mr. Kool-Aid. But more like David Copperfield did on live TV (but without the tricks). I’ve heard of monks doing it hundreds of years ago. So why not me?

TESTING MIRACLES

46 hours before the prophecy of me being able to walk through a wall, I asked the universe for a miracle. The idea came to me from Pam Grout’s book E-Squared, which contains nine experiments. Each experiment takes 48 hours. They are like science experiments, used to test the laws of the universe.

The first experiment asks the universe (or you can say “God” or whatever fits your belief system) to manifest itself by delivering an undeniable sign — within 48 hours.

Apparently, some people got ski trips from this experiment. Spoiler alert: I did not.

So, Thursday at 3:20 p.m. I asked the gods for an undeniable sign. I want my gift. Please.

WAIVERING FAITH

It’s interesting when we pray. We ask. And then what?

For me, the first stage of post-prayer life was forgetting what I prayed about. I would carry on about my day: watching TV, playing games, sleeping, or enjoying a pizza. Forgetting that I asked this incredible universe (the almighty God) that I wanted a miracle.

Then, I remembered. As I got closer to the countdown of 48 hours, I had all kinds of thoughts:

• Maybe I’m not deserving of a miracle

• Perhaps I didn’t pray hard enough

• God works in mysterious ways and in His own time

• This might not work

• 
  

Already, before the 48 hours were up, I was discounting the miracle, expecting it to flop as some hippy-dippy crap, and wondering….if it fails, will I try again?

And then something happened.

THE OLD MAN

I was working on a Saturday, working with some Veterans. The one I was assigned to was 95, a survivor of the Korean War, and a holder of some peculiar beliefs.

As he talked, he spoke of miracles and being a child of God. I thought to myself, “I like miracles.” So I asked him, “Please tell me more.”

He said he read this book called A Course in Miracles. Very mysterious. He said it is not for everyone, but rather the few. (Sounds like Jesus, right? Either that or the Marine Corps.)

He said there are three parts: the book, the workbooks, and some YouTube videos. He said the workbook is what is challenging. It is 365 days of activities. (And this is where he got me.) He said, as if talking to my childlike wonder, “If you are able to get through the 365 days, you will be able to walk through a wall.”

So, I thought to myself, “Is this the miracle I asked for on Thursday?” Then, I remembered, the miracle prayer was that it would be undeniable. This conversation hinted at something unexpected, but not quite undeniable.

Still in conversation, the man told me, “You need to ask around and find a person who knows about this book.” I thought to myself, this would be impossible. I’m 50 and never heard of the book.

THE MIRACLE

Later that day, I was fixated on the clock on my phone. 3:15 p.m. Five minutes left for this supposed miracle. And what does a person who is expecting a miracle do? That’s right, doomscroll Facebook.

And then, this person’s post showed up. I don’t remember what it was about. And I didn’t even know the person. Yet, something resonated with me. I messaged them and said their vibe was cool. And I asked what they felt about spirituality.

He messaged back, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I’ve read books like ‘A Course in Miracles.”

Huh. Interesting.

A stranger. A coincidence. A possibility.

A COURSE ON MIRACLES — DAYS 1–4

I found the book. Each day is a new experiment. I like this. Much better than waiting 48 hours. But sadly, each day is not a miracle. It is an exercise. Simple. Doesn’t last long. I’m instructed to: 1) follow the instructions, 2) I don’t have to believe anything, 3) I don’t judge it, and 4) follow the instructions.

Day 1 — Nothing you see has any meaning. That’s it. I’m told to look around and anything I see, say to myself, “That has no meaning.” Okay. Easy, I thought. The pillow has no meaning. The desk has no meaning. Then I see my Nintendo Switch. Oh, a little tougher, “this Switch has no meaning.” But then what did I see? My daughter.

I have to admit that was tough. And yet, I see its point, which leads to Day 2.

Day 2 — Everything I see only has meaning that I assign to it. Right! My daughter has a LOT of meaning to me. AND all of the meaning is the meaning that I give it. And this works both ways. For things I love, and for things I loathe. Like taxes. And work. And every social media post that was created by AI.

Because I don’t consider myself a novice in spiritual thinking or religion, I found these exercises straightforward. The TOUGHEST part was not skipping ahead. The instructions are very clear. I can take multiple days for one exercise, but I am never supposed to do two exercises in one day. Bummer.

Day 3 — I do not understand anything. Similar to the other exercises, I’m supposed to look around at everything I see and say, “I do not understand this.” This would be easy if I chose what to look at, such as my daughter or fiancé. I truly do not understand them. However, the exercise is to let my eyes naturally land on random things. Not avoiding and not seeking. I do not understand this pen. This phone. This hand.

Day 4 — My thoughts have no meaning. Another familiar concept to me and probably anyone who regularly meditates. Part of some meditations includes observing thoughts as if they were clouds passing in the sky. We can view them and let them continue on their way. Thoughts are neither evil nor good.

Here’s an interesting thing: two days ago and yesterday, two different people mentioned their intrusive thoughts to me. Meanwhile, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had someone talk to me about intrusive thoughts. Maybe it was the universe pointing me in the direction of Day 4.

DAYS 5–365

I’m doing this publicly. I’m forming a group of psychonauts to explore miracles together. This includes emailing, a FB group, and a weekly call. None of it is mandatory; pop in when you want.

In other words, you are invited. Would you like to join me on the journey to find miracles? Then leave a comment below or email me at ryan@trancewell.help.