The Spiritualist Declaration of Principles

One of several major non-coincidences in my life which have pointed my way along what I must call (for want of better words) a “spiritual path” is my happening to live within 10 minutes of Cassadaga, Florida for the past 15 years or so. Raised a hundred miles north, I had heard of Cassadaga since youth because people would drive to the tiny community even over long distances for readings by the psychics and mediums who lived there. I never imagined that I would live next door to it.

It is a very old town, with old wooden houses, old moss-hung trees, and old ponds, reached by winding country roads. It has been the quiet home of the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp for over 100 years. You can read all about it at the linked site if you want to. I intend to refer to it in more than one blog entry.

My purpose for now is to print the Spiritualist Declaration of Principles.

I do not call myself a Spiritualist and I have not joined any Spiritualist group, but I have benefited a great deal from attending Cassadaga Lyceum lectures and discussions. I found their no-rules, free-choice approach a refreshing liberation from the Christian church encounters that litter my past, as did many others I met at Lyceum. In almost every discussion, someone talks about his or her upbringing and contrasts the freedom of Spiritualism with the dogmatic, paternalistic atmosphere of Christian denominations. One of the great points of pride with Spiritualism is that it does not lay down rules. Its members tend to portray Christian churches as ruling by fear: "Believe what we tell you to believe, and do what we tell you to do, and you will not be punished."

I will tell you about my own experiences in Cassadaga elsewhere, but I do want to dispel any preconceptions that psychics and mediums are often charlatans, or demented. The teachers, psychics, and mediums I’ve met in Cassadaga over time are honest, sincere, and usually well above average intelligence. Quite a few have professional degrees; a number have taught (or teach) in universities or public schools. If there is anything obvious that distinguishes them from people you might meet at a Baptist or Methodist or Catholic Church, other than their sometimes individualistic clothing, it is that they are independent-minded seekers rather than believers looking for answers from a priest or a holy book.

Here is the closest thing to a “credo” that they have:


DECLARATION OF PRINCIPLES
Adopted by Spiritualists of America

We believe in Infinite Intelligence.
We believe that the phenomena of nature, both physical and spiritual, are the expression of Infinite Intelligence.
We affirm that a correct understanding of such expression and living in accordance therewith constitute true religion.
We affirm that the existence and personal identity of the individual continue after the change called death.
We affirm that communication with the so-called dead is a fact, scientifically proven by the phenomena of Spiritualism
We believe that the highest morality is contained in the Golden Rule: "Whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you, do ye also unto them."
We affirm the moral responsibility of the individual, and that he makes his own happiness or unhappiness as he obeys or disobeys Nature’s physical and spiritual laws.
We affirm that the doorway to reformation is never closed against any human soul, here or hereafter.
We affirm that the Precepts of Prophecy and Healing are Divine attributes proven through Mediumship.

Unexpected Meditation

As I’ve mentioned, I don’t have a natural gift for meditation. I find it harder than many people to sit still for long, and maybe because of habits formed as a writer I find it very difficult to stop the flow of verbalized thoughts through my head.

I’m speaking of sitting meditation, which is what we Americans are taught is the standard method of meditating. A very gifted psychic who is far more enlightened spiritually than I told an audience that she simply can’t sit and meditate. She has to be moving about. She meditates while walking in her garden.

I’m convinced of the importance of meditation, but for somebody like me -- whose mother remarked that he never stood in one place for one second while getting dressed for school – an alternative to sitting is desirable.

In the line of “things I discovered without being told” was something that startled me when I looked back and realized what had happened.

At the time of this episode I was going regularly on Sunday mornings to a spiritualist “Lyceum” at Cassadaga, a few miles from where I live. I’ll have a lot more to say about Cassadaga in the future, but for now I’ll just tell you that I found the teachers and discussions very interesting -- so interesting that I was surprised when, early one Sunday, my “inner voice” (that I attribute to my benevolent Higher Self) told me to stay home and do something I’d been planning for a long time – take close-up photographs of very small wildflowers.

I resisted missing Lyceum, but I’ve learned that when the voice speaks, always obey it. And so I took my little digital Kodak and set out on a walk along a quiet Lake Helen road next to a watery swamp, where many flowers of different varieties grew. I’ve always been fascinated by extremely close views of very small things, and I was soon lost in finding and focusing on tiny blossoms.

My all purpose inexpensive camera was poorly suited to that kind of photography, and so it took a tremendous amount of patience and concentration to get a flower centered in the picture, or even in the picture, much less get a sharp focus from a few inches away. I would often have to take half a dozen shots to get one decent one.

I was so lost in what I was doing under the sunny morning sky that I lost all sense of time and place. I knew nothing but the minute details of those beautiful little blossoms, white, gold, blue, and red.



Finally the camera memory was full, and I was amazed to find that I was standing unaware in the middle of the road (which did, after all, host an occasional car), and that three hours had gone by in what I would have judged to be an hour. All that time I had been unaware of my surroundings except for the little flowers that filled my eyes and camera screen.

Only later did it dawn on me that I had been unwittingly meditating. I had been totally focused on small motionless objects that filled my consciousness, the word-stream disappeared from my head, time ceased to exist, I was entirely absorbed in Now, and I felt peace when it was over.

I think it is valid to call that a meditation, and for a long time I continued to experience the benefits.

I recall that morning as a shining peak amid the scores of days on either side of it.