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The Sacred Journey…Four Stages of Development

Once you embark on the spiritual path and begin to practice it regularly, there will come a time - it may be a few months or perhaps even a few years - but there will come a time when you realize nothing is as it once was and there is no going back.

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So we seek a mentor. And, we should.

Everyone needs a mentor. Even the mentor needs a mentor.

When you get serious about your sacred journey, this is one of the first felt needs you will have - the feeling of resourcelessness when it comes to the journey. The need for a mentor. Without it, you'll feel like a seeker in a forest with no flashlight.

For the last two weeks, for example, I've been trying to fulfill my civic duty and serve as a juror. I'm fifty-seven years old and, until recently, have never been summoned to appear. I came to this service grumbling the first day for its interruption of my routine. As it has turned out, however, I was not here long before I became intrigued by how our justice system works. I discovered, too, that most of my time here has been free...just sitting...and waiting to be called. Consequently, it has turned out to be quite productive. In fact, I was asked by a fellow juror, "Well, what do you think?"

"I've gotten so much work done while waiting," I responded, "I'm thinking about moving my office to the jury pool."

About forty of us were called today from the pool of jurors to be interviewed by both the prosecuting attorneys and the defense attorneys in an effort to select a twelve-person jury. In the course of their questioning, the judge, attorneys and the other jurors learned I was once a minister. In fact, in response to one of the prosecuting attorney's questions, I responded, "I'm a recovering Baptist preacher."

The room erupted into laughter. I really wasn't trying to be funny as I almost always answer the question of what I do in that way. I'm not sure if that's what disqualified me from serving, but I was not selected to serve as one of the twelve jurors.

During our lunch break, however, and before any of us knew who would be called, I walked down the street to a pizza stand and ordered a slice of pepperoni pizza. I sat down when a man approached me and said, "May I join you?"

"Sure," I said, not recognizing him as one of those from the pool of potential jurors. I really had planned to do a little work and, frankly, didn't want him there. But, as the same moment I had that feeling, I also had the thought, "Be present...be engaged...be kind."

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