An image came to mind of looking down on the earth from a satellite in space. You might have seen these photos on the Web where, when they’re taken at night, you can see the lights of the cities. Well I wonder what it looks like from space now, looking down and seeing beacons of divine light—from South Africa, England, Canada, Mexico, from various places in the United States—all here in the Dome and on the line? Amazing!

We’ve been talking in the Leadership Program about the mind, and I was reminded of an incident recently. I was driving into the town near where I live. I looked in the rear-vision mirror and someone was flashing headlights at me. I don’t know what the situation is in the country you live in, but normally when there’s someone flashing their lights at you, the first thing to do is check the speedometer! Chances are it’s a policeman going to pull you over for a speeding fine. Well, I checked the speedo and it was fine. Driving the car had just been a little more difficult in the last few minutes but, you know, I was in a hurry—and I thought “Just grip the steering wheel tighter; keep going.” This kindly man pulled me over to tell me that I had a flat tire. And it got me thinking, how much of my life do I try and drive my car with a flat tire?

For me, my mind and I have not always been the best of friends. When I was young, I could see people who either loved their mind and their body of knowledge but felt to me a bit heartless, or people who loved their heartiness and were a bit sloppy with their mind. I couldn’t find role models when I was young. I went into medicine—surely they’d have it all. Well, my god! The mind there is venerated as an amazing computer. I spent six years building my own Wikipedia inside.

When I was practicing medicine, the quicker one found out what was wrong with someone, the smarter you were considered as a doctor. In fact, I can recall in groups of doctors, the quicker they could find what was wrong with anything, the smarter they were. It seemed the more paranoid one was, the more venerated one was.

I really despaired of that use of the mind. I think I just gave up and got a bit sloppy. I started believing a whole lot of lies about myself. And that’s the sad thing, as I reflect on it—how long I’ve believed lies about myself. I recall the Educo motto: “What’s right with you is the starting point. What’s wrong with you is beside the point.” I was in a profession where what’s wrong with you is the starting point; what’s right with you is beside the point. Crazy!

Last night I was out in the beautiful moonlight, and I realized that there has always been a provision of light for mankind. The greater light by day and the lesser light by night were actually placed there before man was created. With the creation of man, another light was provided: the light of the illumined mind. That capacity is something that’s eluded me for much of my life. I was thinking, what would be an image to convey the right function of the mind this morning? And I’d like to share these words, very familiar to many, I’m sure, by Martin Exeter: “Whatever Arises.”

Let there be a place of stillness in the midst of turmoil.
Let there be a place of light amidst darkness.
Let there be a place of ease amid disease.
Let there be a place of order in the chaos.
Let there be a place of love and beauty in the midst of fear and ugliness.
Let my presence be a beacon of enfolding radiance in every circumstance.

With the mind in its rightful place, it is illumined and we function more accurately, just like the car with the reinflated tired. We are designed to go far; that’s our destiny. And when the mind is in right function, our presence may be “a beacon of enfolding radiance in every circumstance.” There is that beacon of radiance present right now, increased because we have joined together in this hour. I celebrate that!