Home is in You

I grew up in Seattle where gray is considered a primary color. In the Pacific Northwest, gray engulfs and obscures, but paradoxically also defines. It is both austere and emotional. It marks time without leaving a mark. It both inhibits and inspires. As a kid, I recall encountering sepia for the first time, which felt like sensory overload; like when the carnival came to town. The burst of color that finally arrived each mid-summer was as if Timothy Leary had traveled through on Jack Kerouac’s bus and dropped a gallon of LSD into our drinking water. But, by late September, our old friend gray would return to remind us we were as boring, and yet intriguing, as it was.

A life of low-and-slow stimulation that brings a sense of calm deliverance in the latter stages of life is equally disturbing in our younger years when energy and libido make you dance and spin like a feral cat with its tail on fire. In my senior year of high school, it rained 72 days straight. Trust me, I counted. When my acceptance came from a college in Southern California, I felt like an astronaut waiting on an Apollo launchpad. The allure was that “It never rains in Southern California,” sung by the one-hit wonder, Albert Hammond, (released in 1972). It became the theme song for every kid who lived north of Eugene, Oregon. After a year, I retreated from SoCal once I experienced their gray—from forest fires on Mt. Baldy—that not only blocked the sun, it rained ash! This was my first lesson in the realization that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side of the fence.

Still, I moved. Business took me from Seattle to Dallas, then Washington D.C., back to Dallas, and finally (post-business) my escape in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado, where every border crossing bears the sign, “Welcome to Colorful Colorado.” (That color thing draws me in like a magnet.) The beauty of where I live today is nothing short of magnificent. I have lived in the left, right, and center of America and each place has its appeal—its own special beauty. I remember in 1982, when I first arrived in Dallas and I played flag football on Sunday in late October when it was 75 degrees and sunny. I didn’t even know it was possible to sweat in October. Then, the awe of power in Washington D.C. in the late Reagan/early Bush 41 years. Pillars of stone guarding halls of grandeur. A musk-like intoxicant of power that (I eventually learned) turns well-intentioned “representatives of the people” into common street walkers strutting in stiletto heels on K Street lusting for lobbyists’ dollars. (If you are Kevin McCarthy, add a Velcro-fastened French maid’s outfit; easy on, easy off.)

My memories are filled with the taste of things. A bowl of steaming clam chowder from Pike Place Market in Seattle; a flaming platter of fajita meat in Dallas; fresh-pressed cider on a crisp fall day in Northern Virginia; and a perfectly broiled rack of lamb in Colorado. I should add the overwhelming scent of fresh-cut alfalfa I found so comforting in my youth during summers in South Dakota working on my maternal homeland. I didn’t eat it, but I sure understood why the cattle gobbled it.

Yes, I have (mostly) enjoyed my life. To be clear, pain too, but that just acts to make the joy more enjoyable. Through my travels, my victories, and my tribulations, I have also come to understand what home is, or rather, where it is. Home is where you are, wherever you may be. In the modern era, we must learn to find solace in this concept. The Hallmark channel may beg to differ as it makes its living on the romanticized version of home as a permanent place where the paint never peels and there is always an apple pie in the oven. But if we are to find peace before our travels end, we must realize home is not a zip code, it is at the core of our being.

Considering home as inside of you, wherever you may be, is an acquired mindset. It replaces an attachment to place with the attachment to self; more broadly, the whole self: psyche and soul. The old saying, “Home is where the heart is” comes close, but my notion of home is deeper and broader. Moreover, it is transportable inasmuch as it travels with you. It is a place of comfort and stability; it is safe.

In several essays over the last year, I have written about the work I have done in seeking, maintaining, and securing a sense of “sweet peace” and being “whole as one.” This is my concept of home: not residing at home, rather feeling at home. Home as a state of being is supported by the following five practices.

  1. Be in the present at all times. There is nothing you can do about the past or the future; the only thing you can affect is the now; the only thing you can ever even experience is the now. Apply yourself accordingly.
  2. Conquer your monkey mind. Left to its own devices, our minds spin out of control several times each day. Rumination—the spiral staircase that descends into the abyss of despair—can be stopped by first being aware of what the mind is doing and, second, by interrupting the process allowing those instigating thoughts to pass by before rumination takes hold. And, if you develop the discipline to hit the pause button, those fatalistic thoughts will pass without further effect. The next trick is reversing the spiral into one of an ascension toward virtue (a topic for another day).
  3. Remain open, aware, and compassionate. Contemplate the world as a three hundred-sixty-degree visual field. Allow everything to rise and fall, come and go, with a sense of calm admiration and explicitly without a sense of judgment. In this mindset, the world is quite amazing.
  4. Live conflict-free, fear-free, and anger-free. Stay above the fray; rise above the rabble. Let others get mired in the mud. Keep your boots clean. Remember, the only true victory is tranquility.
  5. Honor your values. Maintain an uncompromising commitment to your fundamental beliefs that undergird your moral high ground. Your integrity and your virtue are the foundation of your home.

There is no escaping the fact that you have to live with yourself every moment of your life. You might as well make that relationship the strongest one that you have. To be whole as one. Make you your home. Once it is a place of comfort and safety, wherever you are you will be fine. Protect it accordingly. It is your fort. It is your port in the storm. Moreover, it is your special gift to the world. Treat it as the precious thing that it is, with no apologies.

Those of you in committed relationships might ask, but what about being whole as a couple? The prerequisite to this is, of course, that you each first be whole as one. If you aren’t, whole as two will never happen in an enduring manner. One or both of you will suffer and the relationship will likely fail. Balance and symbiosis are foundational virtues in companionship.

As a final sharing today, I offer a poem that is framed by a childhood memory and my current mindset. It was an interesting exercise made so by the requirement that one life be contained in one page. It may be a worthwhile exercise for you as well. Obviously, there are several thousand pages missing from this rendering of my life, but I found this bookend approach quite illuminating for me. A personal thought experiment. Perhaps you will, too.

 

That Boy Grown Gray

In my youth, I roamed.

The sea, then woods, mountains, the prairie

and back again.

 

My eyes transfixed on the telephone wires,

undulating from pole to pole,

as the Empire Builder sped eastward

through tunnels burrowed in granite.

 

A clackity-click, then a clickity-clack;

my train rumbled on

from Seattle, to White Fish, to Fargo.

 

It mattered who I was, mostly just to me.

Few thought I was worth an obligation,

fewer yet a worthy dependency.

 

Ah, freedom.

 

Youth; penniless and pure.

Me just for me.

No one’s prospect, no one’s cure.

 

And now here I am, that boy grown gray.

Just one shadow to cast,

just one meal to make.

I carry my own fire again.

 

Slower in both breath and stride,

I pause more than hurry.

No cards held; none to be played.

Quiet mind, I now see with my soul.

 

Embraced by the wisdom of eternity.

~~~~~~~~~

Note to my politically-stressed readers: I realize I have been quiet about the mess in Washington D.C. recently, but I am not ignoring it, nor you. The fact is that the highest order issues facing Americans today are not political, they are mental health issues. Moreover, I view our current political situation as one of more entertainment than concern. Yes, much must be rectified in all three branches of our federal government. But for the moment, the proverbial car-chasing dog—the MAGA nutjobs in Congress—have caught the bumper of the car, and I expect they will soon find themselves pinned beneath the wheel of reason. (With apologies to car-chasing dogs who arguably have higher character than people like Marjorie Taylor Greene.) This detonation of idiocy must be allowed to fully discharge before any real progress can be made. We are on our way to a clumsy transition from the period of crisis that began in 2003 to the next period of objectivism, where reason prevails once again. So, breathe. And, maybe even snicker with me. Once we transition, I am certain George Santos will take full credit. Perhaps we can bestow a trophy upon him to go on the shelf next to his MVP volleyball award from Baruch College.

Note to my well-wishers: Today, I head to Houston to spend some time at MD Anderson Cancer Center to see if there is any better way to rid myself of these nasty adenocarcinoma cells. This consultation was facilitated by one of my readers; a good friend and better person than I will ever be. So, before they cut me up in Colorado, I will see what else might be possible. Thus far, I have filled out numerous pre-consultation questionnaires, none of which asked me, “What can we do for you?”, but maybe they are saving that question for the consultation. (If they did, they would be the first on this unwelcome and disturbingly empathy-free journey through our healthcare system.) If anyone knows of a better treatment, they should know at MD Anderson. Either way, I shall prevail. After all, I am home.

By |2023-12-01T15:40:29+00:00January 29th, 2023|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Kintsugi: the Beauty of Scars

In my youth, scars were marks of toughness meant to warn others you were someone to leave alone; that you could both take and deliver pain. Physical wounds that produce such visible scars were worn like ribbons on a warrior’s chest, or like notches on a belt: a tally of toughness.

As we reach adulthood, we soon learn that wounds and the scars that follow come in different forms other than those that leave ragged blemishes. Internal wounds that traumatize emotionally and psychologically heal slowly—if ever—and offer no visual evidence of their presence. Rather, they fester in our hearts and minds and contribute to behaviors that neither we, nor those who believe they know us, can explain. Treatment to heal such wounds is often futile; limited to managing symptoms of an unknown cause that is buried by the past and has often morphed over time into a multi-headed monster that may or may not be based in any semblance of reality. They become the demons that haunt us with neither warning, nor apparent justification.

As we age, we learn to cope with our wounds whether they are healed over with a scar, fly around in our psyche like bats in our mental belfry, or leave our hearts feeling heavy and hollow. Coping behaviors come in many forms from appeasement to suppression to concealment. We do the best we can to present ourselves as reasonable and sane even when we know we are fighting against forces we don’t recognize, let alone understand. In extreme cases, we become unrecognizable to ourselves and appear bizarre, or even dangerous, to others. Those who peddle cures call us depressed, neurotic, or psychotic, when what we are is, simply, human.

The key to dealing with all of these challenges is a deep and compassionate self-interrogation that peels all the layers of our life back to reveal the essence of who we are to produce a level of clarity that casts aside old deceptions in favor of restorative self-awareness. Moreover, to honor and even celebrate our scars like the gold lines in a Kintsugi restoration. Converting pain into beauty. Self-awareness when expressed in an open and honest manner and followed by the celebration of our particular peculiarities makes us (often for the first time in our lives) whole. Once we are whole, once the wounds are exposed and closed by awareness and compassion, our demons are vanquished and sweet peace prevails. A sense of entrenched calm presides over our lives like the elder viewing the world from a park bench whose only expression is an occasional sagacious grin.

My own journey of Kintsugi restoration is expressed in the following poem.

Whole as One

Expectations and obligations

Hang like ornaments on a tree

Too many is too much

Burdened limbs falter, wilting

As contrived joy plunges

Into a wallow of discontent

 

Criticism and displeasure

Seldom fair but always there

Like a midwinter inversion

Low layers of gray swirling

A biting bone chill of wind

To deaden what spirit remains

 

The yoke of yesterday yearns

Masquerading as comfort

Advocating for stasis

Blocking the light of liberation

A relentless weight of fealty

As if it knows what is right

 

Days turn and stumble

Unremarkable in sameness

Is this all there is as the

choir sings its benediction?

Surely there’s another chapter

Without a beast of burden

 

Finding a new me for me

Shedding decades of duty

Considerations are few and simple

To clear a path to tranquility

Secure as One to meet the world

In it, but not of it any longer

 

Behind the eye of wisdom

Beyond the grabbers and takers

Shaping wholeness as One

In the slipstream of society

Stealth toward a frictionless future

Held in the hands of grace

We live in confusing and perilous times. What was once so is no longer. The reliable has become unreliable. At times, the world we face is beyond disorienting; it appears as a cauldron of existential threats. It is therefore paramount that we take care of ourselves and each other. Doing so begins with building our inner citadel—a reserve of fortitude that renders our core being unassailable.

Late in his life, the painter Pierre Auguste Renoir was crippled by painful arthritis in his hands, and yet summoned the strength to hold his brush. His friend and fellow artist, Henri Matisse, asked “Why do you paint when it hurts you so much?” “The pain passes,” replied Renoir, “but the beauty remains.” Strength can be found in self-revelation. Renoir knew who he was. It was through his pain that his greatest works came to be. It was through his pain that the strength of beauty was realized. The key to sweet peace is living your life while honoring your personal history not as what makes you vulnerable and weak, rather by what makes you unique, strong, and yes, beautiful.

Like a Kintsugi bowl, scars and all.

By |2023-12-01T15:41:13+00:00January 15th, 2023|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Getting Through

The last three years have been a gut-wrenching test of our personal and collective character as a people and nation. Although we failed in many tests of our character, we are still here. The hard truth is only we, acting on inspiration with determination, can make the next three years better than the last. As the maxim suggests: “the only way out is through.” It is time to get through. How we do that begins with visualizing then actualizing change based in what I call moments, or glimpses, or glimmers of inspiration.

We still have an opportunity to set a new course; to learn from our failures and to both restore and revitalize the values that undergird our character. 2023 can be the year we turn the corner—together—to recommit to the truth, to each other, to our planet, and to assert a new spirit of creativity and innovation that defines a new American identity. One that restores the American Dream and reestablishes America as an exemplar of human dignity and grace across the world. What I call the enlightened version of American exceptionalism.

Over the holidays, I spent a great deal of time in fairly intense contemplation and reflection. Cancer will do that to you. Thankfully, my cancer is just below stage 4 at stage 3C. Operable, albeit complicated, and my chance of survival is quite good. The balance of the consequences are just a matter of the mind and body cooperating in creative adaptation, and doing the work to fully rehabilitate. Fortunately, I have had many experiences with difficult physical rehabilitations, so I know I can do that—and win. And, I have the shoulders of friends and family to stand on.

In the face of these uncertainties, I found sanity and solace in imagining moments/glimpses/glimmers of comfort when my world was full of darkness and peril. There have been days when this practice is the only way I made it to the next day. My hope is that we might collectively engage in a similar practice to right the ship of America with our own individual and collective practice of what amounts to visualizing then actualizing the few things we need to do to save our future. We need to learn how to hug hope.

Over the past year, I have (fortuitously as it turns out) developed the skill of dropping into a meditative state where simple breathing settles me into a state of awareness free of my meddling mind. That’s when summoning moments of comfort set my troubled psyche at ease. Moments of comfort like inhaling the aroma of a fresh, French press, dark roast coffee as the sun breaks the horizon. The wafting vanilla-almond scented candle next to a crackling fire of pinion and cedar as nightfall envelops my home. A shimmering rainbow connecting the valley with the mountains in the ritual of a soft summer rain. A perfect piece of music that inspires a joyful sense of awe and inspiration. The brush strokes of an artist that stop you cold leaving you floating between reality and imagination. The prattle of chatter up and down the bar—both inane and profoundly poetic—while sipping a Guinness in Ireland. A poem that leaves room for you to make it your own. And, of course, reading, thinking, writing, reflecting, re-writing, then writing some more; and, finally, sharing as I do here.

As it is with all of us, our personal lives mirror the disposition of the places in which we live. Place has an enormous impact on our lives; more than we are willing to admit. Our personal agency certainly matters as a powerful agent of change, but the context of community allows and disallows many of our preferences. That said, there are a just a few things that all Americans could focus on that transcend the peculiarities of place. Across America today, there are three imperatives as we collectively face the future: a recommitment to truth and the rule of law, the reunification of ourselves by and between each other and nature, and the courage to foster, embrace, and support the application of creative intelligence to address our greatest challenges. In my view, these are the three most pressing objectives that, if realized, will affect many primary, secondary, and tertiary issues. They will deliver us to a future we can be proud to leave to our children and grandchildren.

One need look no further than Donald Trump if you want to find evidence of what one person can do for better, or in his case, for ill. He nearly single-handedly destroyed our commitment to the truth and the rule of law, as well as standards defined by norms. The soon-to-be sworn-in congressman George Santos of New York is the exclamation point of this Trump effect. He is Trump’s bizarre avatar of deceit. A life and identity completely crafted from falsehood. What a mess that man is. A Shakespearean tragedy not even William could have conjured.

But let’s be clear and honest with ourselves as we move forward: every one of us shares culpability in the abdication of our commitment to truth and the rules and norms that make our society a civilized society. Even in our silence we are culpable. We let this happen. It is up to all of us to fix it. No more looking the other way or engaging in performative outrage on social media. None of that excuses us. None of that works. No matter how uncomfortable or even cruel the truth may be, we must face it with courage and resolve. And, yes, consequences for Trump and others are important to levy. Not to affect their future behaviors; I highly doubt people like Trump are capable of rehabilitation. Rather, to restore the rule of law to its rightful perch on the throne of integrity. Visualize truth as our path to restoring the soul of America.

Next, we need to set aside our petty grievances and acknowledge our common challenges and objectives. Separately, we are all trying to do the same thing: make our lives work in the context of our particular fears and ambitions. Collectively, we will all find our success more easily and more quickly if we honor our differences while embracing that which we share. Yes, we look different, speak with different accents, pray to different gods, and find love in different ways. But we are all Americans. In fact, that is what America is and always has been. That is what really makes America great—what made America the greatest nation-state in the modern world. We must close the gap between us. It is dangerous and un-American to engage further in the fear mongering and divisiveness that has become so popular on both ends of our political spectrum. In the last few years, we have become our own worst enemies. How stupid we were. This must stop, immediately. E Pluribus Unum—out of many, one—must, once again, become an actualized vision.

In a new spirit of unity, we must also reimagine ourselves as the animals that we are. To be sure, human, and indeed predominant in this world. But also, highly interdependent by and between all the other species of plants and animals with whom we share the planet. The ecosystem we inhabit is collapsing, and it is because of us. Spare me your fantasies of alternative explanations to the reality of climate change. If you promote these, you are—plainly and frankly—dangerously full of shit. We may be the last victims, but if we remain on our current path of seeing ourselves as separate from and protected from the eventualities of the consumption of fossil fuels, we are no longer homo sapiens, we are homo stupidus. We deserve to perish. My hope is that if we learn to regard ourselves as a part of nature, rather than separate from it, we have a chance—admittedly today a dwindling chance—but nonetheless a chance to save ourselves. Once again, from ourselves. This visualization is simple: we are one with nature.

Beyond truth and unity, we must also reinvigorate the ethos of the America that made it the greatest nation-state in the modern era. We must embrace the geniuses, artists, and crazy entrepreneurs that turned daring enterprise into unimaginable innovation. The impossible is always possible. Often, it just requires looking at issues through a different lens. At others, it requires the imagination to combine seemingly disparate elements into something altogether new. As entrepreneurs know, in every threat lies an opportunity. Between threats and opportunities are also an array of possibilities. Yes, we have faced and continue to face daunting challenges. But we must meet them with a steady commitment to opportunism. And do so with a dash of arrogant optimism. Visualize ingenuity.

Truth, unity, and ingenuity. Cultivate them through moments, glimpses, and glimmers of reinforcing visualization. There is another maxim that applies here quite perfectly: you will travel in the direction your eyes are looking. Vision is a powerful navigation system. Once we set our eyes on a new future, our minds, hearts, and bodies will follow. Before we know it, we will be in a much better place.

One more thought before I return to my moments of comfort. The holidays are always a time of expressing gratitude. This is a good thing. A very good thing. I suggest, however, that we flip this script. In addition to expressing how grateful we are, might we also consider why we deserve gratitude. Have we earned gratitude from others? What have we done to earn it? Should our friends and family be grateful for us? Should the communities in which we live be grateful we are there? How about wildlife, the land, air and waters? If you are looking for a resolution for the new year, maybe this one is relevant: to earn the gratitude of others.

Happy New Year.

By |2023-12-01T15:42:00+00:00January 1st, 2023|General, Recent, Spiritual, The New Realities|0 Comments
Read More

A Pagan Solstice Sermon

If wishes came true,

if thoughts and prayers

did more than pander,

I would ask for them

for me and for you.

 

Instead: mercy.

 

Forgive us Mother

for we have sinned.

 

We now know that

“You be you and

I’ll be me” only

produced a bounty

of wounding enmity.

 

We want to be good

as our mothers taught.

We want to stand tall

when judgement falls.

 

Grant us strength to

subdue our desires;

to span the space

that foments anger.

 

To consider, to reflect,

to summon empathy,

to hold the darkness,

with life in repose.

 

It’s in the fermata

where crescendos begin.

The pause of wisdom

where character thrives.

 

When mind and soul

are sealed with Nature

there is hope, courage,

and tranquility.

 

Where will we go,

what will we do,

whom will we hate,

once our hearts are whole?

 

Hand in hand,

reaching across the void,

in search of compassion,

one heart, one destiny.

 

Heading into the wind,

toward the light,

we stride past fear,

to save tomorrow.

 

To meet the sky

and be welcomed home.

To be redeemed

and know what’s right.

 

When there is no problem,

only peace remains.

Embracing temperance

to be good again.

 

Oh, to be good again.

By |2023-12-01T15:42:27+00:00December 18th, 2022|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Curating Sweet Peace

November is a transitional month, a between month, a time of animated reflection as the energy of summer has been diluted by autumn, but hasn’t yet yielded to the solemnity of winter. It is a natural time to take stock and, as our American tradition of Thanksgiving holds: to express our gratitude for our many blessings. It allows just enough space in the fading light for contemplation before we wind ourselves up again for year-end holidays that, at least for me, have always oversold and underdelivered on the promise of joy, let alone peace.

As some of you know, or may have gathered from my writings, I have been immersed this year on a pilgrim’s search to reconcile my life in favor of a sense of transcendent equanimity I call sweet peace. I have always been a curious natural seeker of knowledge and meaning. Epistemology—the study of how we know what we know—is an arena of bottomless fascination for me. In recent years, this quest has been a source of great anxiety as I have watched our collective departure from a commitment to truth place our country and world in constant peril. This penchant for curiosity and knowledge when combined with an affinity for sports and recreation that began very early in my life (as being outdoors was much preferred to being stuck inside with three older sisters) means my mind and body have been maintained at a reasonable level of knowledge and fitness. However, as is the case with many people of my generation, I gave my heart, my spirit, and my soul, little attention.

Fortunately, my pursuit of knowledge did, at least tangentially, touch matters of metaphysics, spirituality, and religion with some frequency during my adult life. I was an early reader (thirty-plus years ago) of the late Thich Nhat Hahn, and have always enjoyed the arm wrestle between atheists and evangelicals. Although it never happened, I would have enjoyed seeing Christopher Hitchens debate the Reverend Billy Graham Jr. I expect Billy would have needed more than a prayer towel to wipe his brow. During my research for my dissertation that resulted in my book, Presidential Faith and Foreign Policy, I spent many months reading every text of the major world religions and took a very deep dive into American Christianities. During my life, identifying as agnostic gave me the comfort of honesty by responding to inquiries of my own disposition regarding deities by simply answering, “I don’t know.” The religious scholar, Mark Knoll, argued that as an agnostic I was uniquely qualified to examine presidents and their religious dispositions as I had no dog in the fight.

The time comes, however, when one must (or at least should) come to terms with one’s life and inevitable death. Notwithstanding what knowledge has to offer regarding the mechanics of this process, when contemplating death knowledge has little to offer. Empiricism hits a wall at the moment of our demise. Yet, death has been the dominant contemplation of humankind for centuries; not just of the mystery of what lies beyond, but for its impact on how we value life. As the common inquiry goes, if we did not know we will die, would we even value life? Stated more directly, if we knew we would live forever—a deathless existence—what meaning would our lives have? The after-death mystery coupled with how we cherish life has, of course, set us up with our most dynamic vulnerability: we will do anything asked for the promise of eternal life. This is a button that has been pushed over and over throughout the history of humankind by the leaders of many tribes, cults, religions, kingdoms and empires. It is humanity’s Achilles heel.

One of my early revelations in my own spiritual journey this year did, however, identify a workaround to the dilemma of facing an uncertain afterlife. Why not heaven now? Why not heaven during life? Why not heaven on earth? It turns out this—what I call sweet peace—is indeed possible. It isn’t easy and requires disciplined work, but one can get there. Some call it enlightenment, but that’s a little too woo-woo for me and, frankly, has been so overused in so many different contexts as to have had its meaning severely compromised. I describe sweet peace as removing every weight and tether from your being such that peace of mind, body, and spirit is experienced in the present. It is what others—like athletes and musicians and writers—describe as being “in the flow.” It is, in short, the ultimate experience of liberation; when every dimension of your life is completely aligned in a deep and unassailable sense of harmony. Akin to being swaddled in bliss.

A number of ancient philosophers pursued this same workaround. In my essay “Twelve Contemplations for a Better Tomorrow” (September 4, 2022), the third contemplation is called “Die to Live.” This is something the ancients practiced regularly, but in the modern era (perhaps because of our embrace of organized religion’s promise of everlasting life) we have suspended this exercise. After all, won’t clean living and/or large financial donations to our chosen churches secure our post-death transcendence? (Place that bet as you wish.) The purpose of the exercise is to clear the decks of dissonance in our lives to narrow, if not eliminate, the gaps between how we wish things to be and how they are. So, as suggested in my essay, one must dispense with and/or reconcile obligations, dependencies, and conflicts that all are sources of different types of dissonance. The other group of dissonance-makers are wants and desires. Recognizing that the entire commercial system in our modern world is designed to increase both wants and desires, this is a challenge, but is by no means insurmountable. It is accomplished by simply living in the present moment and accepting what is rather than what might be. To, as my favorite mantra (the three Rs) intones: relax and release to rise. As I suggested in the same essay, “The … aim is contentment, which is a core element of grace”; a state of pure grace being synonymous with sweet peace.

Of course, we don’t live in a static world. Dastardly dissonances come and go with high frequency. This is why we must find a rhythm of practices that support our desire for sweet peace. This is where the process of curation comes in. In your constellation of practices that involve different tools (principal among them meditation) you will, over time, land on elements that prove effective in producing that sense of harmony that literally resonates in a manner to shield your sweet peace from a world that seems determined to disrupt, if not destroy, it. This is what is meant by “doing the work.” There are many so-called spiritual teachers out there. And, as with your formal education, you will experience ones that work for you and ones that don’t. In my experience, it is a highly idiosyncratic process. Sometimes, just an irritating voice can eliminate a teacher, at others you will find more substantive points of attraction or dismissal. The point is (as with any regimen aimed at improving your life) to get started and stick with it.

Once you are on your path, you will find other tools to support your practice. One of my favorites are crystal bowls that are frequency-specific aimed at different chakras, or energy centers in the body. On a recent retreat, I even experienced a session of crystal bowl sound activation where bowls of different frequencies were placed on my body in coordinated vibration, or singing, to affect cell activation deep within the core of my body. Yup: woo-woo! But damn, it felt good. All music apps offer many versions of so-called “sound baths” (including crystal bowls) that I use to accompany my own meditation sessions.

I expect the biggest game-changer, however, that is slowly but surely coming on-line, is the application of psychedelics like psilocybin, ayahuasca, MDMA, LSD, and peyote. These substances are considered by many to be capable of supercharging the path to sweet peace, and have shown extraordinary efficacy in treating addiction and PTSD while also providing that proverbial magic carpet for terminally ill patients facing death. In effect, psychedelics interrupt neural pathways overriding our psyche that captains our ego. They allow us to transcend the self—to get out of our own way. A great deal of research is underway to refine their clinical application, and I was pleased to see my own state of Colorado has now removed the threat of criminal prosecution for their use. If you are looking for a primer on these developments, see Michael Pollan’s How to Change Your Mind.

One thing I remain unsure of that I will pose as a caveat, is whether those in the preparation and achievement phases of their lives, roughly birth to early 40s, will benefit from doing more than tending to their body and mind. I wonder if paying much attention to matters of the heart/ spirit/soul complex ought to be left to later life. I wonder if younger folks shouldn’t let their psyche/ego stay in the driver’s seat until they transition to the actualization, then transcendence, phases of their lives. I recognize this may simply be a personal bias of mine, but as I look back on my own life, being aware of and curious about these mindful practices (mostly through reading) without diving in appears to have served me well. It gave me just enough familiarity and curiosity to dive in today. However, I am aware many get on the path at a young age and flourish as well. Perhaps my family/business/academic life would have benefited, but I am not sure where I would have found the time. So, insert an I-dunno-shrug emoji here! It may also be that I was just too pre-occupied and immature to succeed in a mindfulness practice at a younger age. (I suspect Socrates would have shared this concern.)

Winter is on the doorstep. Notwithstanding the many holiday obligations we enjoy/endure this time of year, now is a good time for self-reflection and self-care. Be patient with, and attentive to, others, but be selfish too. Our country and world have many challenges, but I am a big believer in the power of one, which is to say making the world a better place starts with making a better, more peaceful, you. If your practice only yields glimpses of sweet peace, as mine has, trust me when I say it is well worth the effort. Tranquility is its own reward.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

By |2023-12-01T15:43:46+00:00November 20th, 2022|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Twelve Contemplations for a Better Tomorrow

Are we there yet?

Kids have no sense of time, which has annoyed parents since the automobile first started rambling across America in the early twentieth century. While parents ruminate about the past and worry about the future, kids just live in the here and now. “What’s for lunch?” is as far as they look forward and yesterday is easily forgotten. In the last few years, however, both kids and adults were on the same page: would the present never end? We all seemed stuck; triangulated between the forces of fear, bewilderment, and boredom. Our world oscillated like a gyroscope with a slightly bowed axis, leaving us in a dizzied state of disorientation. As if we were walking through a hall of mirrors where our reflection is distorted and we struggle to recognize our likeness. Familiarity seemed always just beyond our comprehension. Normal? Get real.

To muddle things further, since the presidency of Trump and the pandemic, it seems we can’t get anything done. Collective action for the greater good has succumbed under the weight of divisive malice. Innovation of any kind, from technology to popular culture has been in a Covid-induced stupor, and violence has become the prevailing currency of all disputes. Notwithstanding the many so-called influencers who pursue fandom on social media, our culture entered a period of mind-numbing stasis. Been wowed by a new technology lately? Inspired by a new young leader? Seen a great new movie? Listened to stunning new music? Been enthralled by a new author? Neither have I. I expect someday historians may look back at this era and call it the Big Dark Pause. The life expectancy of Americans has dropped two years in a row—for the first time in over one-hundred years in 2020, and the second in 2021. There is nothing darker than premature death.

However, this too shall pass.

In historical context, pauses like the current one signal a pivot point after which a new direction, with predictably hopeful enthusiasm, is set anew. We move forward with new norms, expectations, and inspirations. In the meantime, pauses also offer an opportunity to recenter the self in a manner to affect personal orientations and dispositions. To find light in the darkness. Now is the time to prepare, before the gyroscope’s axis straightens. Crises always offer opportunities if we are willing to do the work.

I received a number of inquiries following my August 2 post: “The Identity Trap: Suffering or Transcendence?” that described four phases of life and the keys to avoiding suffering in the last quarter in favor of transcendence. Several readers asked for more input on their own quest to reset their lives as we emerge from our current malaise. What follows here are a number of contemplations to consider. My own journey has been informed by two ancient philosophies: Stoicism and Mindfulness. From Seneca to Buddha. Each is unique. Each is powerful. I have found both to be extremely valuable.  I also realized that the only way to make sense of either was through immersion. Between language, time period, and cultural differences, it is difficult to assimilate much of the knowledge that can appear abstract, circular, and paradoxical to the modern western mind. In addition, the confusion one must endure from many teachers using different definitions for the same terms can be quite frustrating. So, my synthesis of contemplations (after wading and wallowing through many books, podcasts, and lectures) is offered below as a utilitarian guide to a personal reset. I have attempted, as best I can, to extract the essence of the ancients in a manner that is both understandable and useful for people like me; for people like you.

Here you go:

  1. Get naked. (Metaphorically, of course.) If you are over forty-five, let go of your carefully crafted identity you wear like a suit of armor. It may have served you well when you were younger, but if you want to live your life on the path to tranquility rather than suffering—you need to let go of your identity and give your ego a much-needed rest. Our psyche, formed from our beliefs, knowledge, experiences, fears, preferences, and prejudices gets way too much playing time. Keep your heart and mind open. Learning is essential. Focus on crafting wisdom rather than hardening your identity. Being naked as a default state leaves all your options open. You can wear what you want to fit the situation and its circumstances. And, no one will accuse you of becoming a bore—you will never go out of style!
  2. Reality is what it is. Let it be. Manage your relationship with reality rather than trying to affect reality itself. I have always been a big believer in manifesting my own destiny; in controlling outcomes in my favor. After years of banging my head against that wall, I have awakened to the fact that most outcomes have nothing to do with factors within our control. Thinking otherwise is admirable, but delusional. That is not to say I do not believe one person can’t have an extraordinary impact on the achievement of a particular goal, just that there are too many exogenous variables—outside of our control—that have influence on results in a world that is now as integrated and complex as ours. And, in the last few years, exogenous variables have played a ferocious role in outcomes. Mitigating risk has become an extraordinary challenge. Shifting your control-freak disposition to your relationship with reality—as it is—rather than believing you can affect reality directly is a much saner way to live.
  3. Die to live. If today was the last day of your life, would you die in peace? If not, why not? Make a list of the why-nots. First, eliminate bucket-list items: things you want to do that amount to little more than ego-satisfiers. It doesn’t mean you eliminate them from your pursuits, but recognize that they are actually superficial in the scheme of dying in a state of peace. Then, identify each item on the remaining list as in your control, or out of your control. Discard—cross out—those items out of your control. This can be difficult, but it makes no sense to trouble yourself with items that you can do nothing about—for whatever reason. Most unresolved issues that remain will come in three flavors: obligations, dependencies, and conflicts. Finally, work your list. The goal is to eliminate as many items as is possible. Once that is done you may die in peace. Of course, you won’t—at least not on that day—but here’s the big payoff: every next day is a gift! Every next day can be enjoyed in a state of liberation. One last caveat: after your liberation, don’t add anything else to that list in the future. That would just be dumb.
  4. Now is all that matters. Be that kid in the backseat of the station wagon again. Stay present. There is absolutely nothing you can do about the past. Throw away that rearview mirror. Dwelling is dangerous for both mental and physical health. Look to the future to foster hope and aspiration, but don’t fool yourself about expected outcomes. The only moment you can affect with some certainty is the present. Focus on mastery in the moment, one moment at a time. It doesn’t matter if you are washing dishes or performing before a large audience. Everyone benefits: the dishes, the audience, and you. And, those close to you will suddenly find you much more interesting if you pay attention to them in the moment.
  5. No regrets nor desires. Regrets are about the past and desires are about the future; they are not the now (see #4 above). Moreover, they reflect a dissatisfaction with reality (see #2 above). Their biggest problem, however, is that the give suffering a handhold—a place to land. Virtually all of our suffering comes from wanting things to be other than they are. Regrets and desires cause depression and often lead to rash decision-making when coupled with debilitating ruminations. Some people live their entire lives litigating regrets and chasing desires. We have all known one or more of them. They are human wrecking balls. The better aim is contentment, which is a core element of grace—of practicing courteous goodwill.
  6. Play the inner game. Internal, not external. The inner game is one that is entirely within our control—where the outcome is certain. External is conditional, which means, by definition, is out of our control. Friends are conditional, and unfortunately spouses are too. Even the pledge of unconditional love is conditioned upon its pledge and honor of the pledger. Happiness can also be conditional if it depends on anything external. To quote William Ernest Henley’s poem, you can be the “master of my fate” and “captain of my soul” if you focus on the inner game. Mastering the inner game will make you stronger than any threat you face in life; the fiercest of warriors and most certain victor. Steel thyself. Be your own best friend. Engage with all the rest with a level of prudent circumspection. Trust others to do what they believe is in their best interest and you will seldom, if ever, feel betrayed. Finally, as the Stoics remind us: it is not what happens that matters, it is how you respond to what happens that matters.
  7. The only thing that is permanent is impermanence. Nothing lasts. A frustrated student of a Buddhist monk once asked him to define the philosophy of Buddhism in one sentence. The monk did it in two words: “everything changes.” Everything comes and everything goes. This reality affects both the desirable and the undesirable. Fighting change, as with regrets and desires (see #5, above) is a surefire pathway to suffering. This is one of the reasons why clinging, clutching, and grasping are futile. Let it be and let it go. Masochism is not a pathway to transcendence and peace. Reckless reaction and/or determined resistance will not defeat impermanence. Your willpower is better aimed at letting life be life. Your ego will fight you mightily on this, which is why you must redirect your will to achieve a sense of mindful equanimity.
  8. Simplify. Happiness is simple, it is simplicity that is hard. It is so easy to complicate our lives. The principal beneficiary of complexity is our ego. How many times have you spoken to a friend or family member and sat patiently while they rattled off how busy, complicated, and overwhelming their life is? They are seeking acknowledgment from you to accomplish one thing: feed their ego. Yes, life is busy and can be very hard. But the difficulty is largely of our own making. The vast majority of our responsibilities and burdens in the modern era are self-inflicted. All too often complexity is driven by regrets and desires (see #5, above). We feel we must expand our lives to find happiness. New toys, experiences, friends, and lovers. Want happiness? Seek simplicity. Learn to discard and learn to stop yourself before you reach for that next shiny object. That next Amazon box will not make you happy.
  9. Fear and anger are toxic. And, they are levers of manipulation—your manipulation. I know no person on the planet that understands this better than Donald Trump. It is how he became president and could be again. Fear and anger act to diminish our power in two ways. The good news is that both are in our control. First, clutching fear and anger cause us to act in ways that violate our fundamental values. Among other things, this creates internal conflict—cognitive dissonance—that is the foundation of mental illness, from simple depression to more disabling mental disorders. Second, if we are provoked by fear and anger our reaction only accomplishes one thing: the transfer of power from ourselves to the provocateur. Action? Good. Reaction? Bad. I am forever amazed at how people take offense and display anger—even hatred—over name calling. Being triggered (to invoke a fashionable term of victimhood) is the moment when the triggered transfers power to the offender. In a state of fear and anger, we can be made to do almost anything; seldom in our own best interest. Why would anyone do that? Keep your power for yourself.
  10. Leave things better than you found them. One of three key American cultural dispositions that truly made America great, which I wrote about more extensively in Saving America in the Age of Deceit, is the disposition of perfectibility. It is based in the simple belief that we can improve the world we live in and have an obligation—even patriotic duty—to do so. At the very minimum, we must not make things worse (as seems to be the current popular political modality for far too many of our leaders). Buddhism in particular sees this through the belief in connectedness of all living beings (sentient or not). Rejecting separatism (which is an unfortunate western tradition) means we have an obligation to fulfill ourselves and improve the welfare of other beings, each and every day. As the predominant actor on earth, we should accept the responsibility of taking on the greatest challenges for all living beings consistent with the proportional nature of equity. If we did, among other things, addressing climate change would be a no-brainer.
  11. Practice gratitude—focus your passion on the good. It starts with being aware enough in your life to occasionally pause and let the good land. Then, savor it. I have twelve sources of gratitude that I read back to myself every day; more than once a day if necessary to keep dark clouds away. It is amazing what an elixir gratitude can be. We live on one of the most amazing planets in the entire universe and on one of the most diverse and dynamic continents on that planet in a country that tries (at least historically) to respect our right of self-determination. Vitality and freedom. We are truly blessed. Things could be way worse. Besides being uplifting, gratitude is also empowering. Acting from a position of gratefulness conveys humility and garners instant credibility. The difference between manipulation and persuasion is whose interest is being served. Serving yourself is manipulation; serving others affects persuasion. The sincerely grateful one is the persuasive one.
  12. Love-and-respect, love-and-respect, repeat, repeat, repeat. Why live otherwise? It is what you want for yourself, so why not treat others in the same manner? This is the most fundamental tenet of all world religions. Pastors, priests, imams, monks, and rabbis may not practice it, but that does not excuse you. Many of our political and business leaders don’t practice it, which is why they must go. Love-and-respect is a grassroots revolution. It starts with each and every one of us. I don’t care if you are a woke Democrat, or a MAGA Republican—quit hating each other. You are only hurting yourself (see #9, above). Every being on the planet wants to be seen, heard, and appreciated. We all have good days and bad. We all have both anxieties and aspirations. Lighten someone’s load and yours will lighten too. If we are to have any chance of saving humanity, we must get this through our thick skulls, and soon. Mother Nature is losing her patience.

I know there is a lot here. Sweet peace does not happen overnight. If you pursue a personal reset, do so with quiet determination. Persevere. You will not achieve perfection—nobody does. Treat your reset as a journey rather than a destination. Your new world awaits. And, it needs you now more than ever.

By |2023-12-01T15:44:20+00:00September 4th, 2022|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

The Identity Trap: Suffering or Transcendence?

At birth, our identity—our answer to Who am I?—is simple: human. Yes, most of us have a discernible gender, which historically was also a given, but today is considered “assigned.” And, we now have some flexibility to change that later in life through medical intervention and the re-selection of pronouns. We also enter the world with other markers of identity emanating from our inheritance of genes, skin color, and ethnicity, but this is also true: at the moment we come hollering into the world, we are as close to a clean slate as we will ever be for the rest of our life. The twist I am proposing here, which is contrary to what most Americans practice in our slice of Western culture, is that in the latter stages of life we should, in order to achieve a sense of what I call “sweet peace” prior to death, seek a return to that clean slate.

As we progress through the four quarters of life—preparation, achievement, actualization, and transcendence—we add and subtract identifiers through everything from the clothes we wear, to our affiliations and associations, to family and personal relationships, to the knowledge and beliefs we call our own. This constellation of identifiers are a mix of self-selections and social impositions. We decide on many of them by ourselves while others are laid upon us by society, about which we can either embrace or reject, but about which we have little say. This reality is complicated further by the fact that our identifiers define our self-perception of who we are, which is seldom, if ever, the same perception others have of us, and about which we have limited awareness. The construction of our identity is a messy process, but is widely held by psychologists as critical to our mental health and general well-being. The answer to Who am I?, drives much of our decision-making that plots—both directionally and strategically—the arc of our life. The search for meaning and purpose—Why am I here?—is heavily influenced by our constructed identity, whether curated or imposed.

By day two of our life, the process of identity construction is underway. Throughout the early years of the first quarter (preparation phase) of our life, our parents, siblings, extended family, teachers, coaches, and friends are the key influencers of our identity. During this phase, the scales of which identifiers are self-selected and which are imposed tips heavily in the direction of imposed. Socialization and indoctrination are the dominant processes in our lives until we gain enough of our own knowledge (acquired empirically and experientially) to tip the scales to a more balanced mix of self-selected and imposed. Our identity is first expressed in a major decision when it is time to leave home. For those who go to college, the decision of which one to attend is influenced by a number of factors: location, cost, academic orientation, etc. But if we hold those constant, the predominant criteria is the goodness of fit between our identity and those who already attend any particular school. On visitations, just watch your child as they walk the campus. They have one question on their minds: do I fit in with these people? Do our identities jibe? The question you ask upon returning to your car, “What did you think?,” will be based on if they see themselves with those people in that place.

As we enter the second quarter of our life—the achievement phase—identity becomes perhaps more important than in any other phase. This includes the years of early twenties to midlife when we stake our claim on the world. When our principal modality is striving. We work; we partner; we make decisions about where to live; we have children; we declare membership in churches and political parties; and, an array of other social, community, and professional organizations. Our list of identifiers naturally peak during this phase of life and provide the capacity to affect two critical contributions to our well-being: belonging and differentiation.

Belonging is a natural and powerful motivation of every human being. More than fitting in, as described in the kid going off to college, belonging is about being adopted into a group (broadly defined) and also about adopting the norms and belief systems of that group. More than an element of our identity, belonging to groups acts to both clarify and limit that which we believe in. Our perspectives and our minds are narrowed by belonging, which in this period of our lives (often described as hectic and complex) serves to simplify our world thereby reducing life’s many sources of anxiety. In the achievement phase of life, belonging has significant benefits for safety, security, and general well-being.

Personal differentiation is also made possible in this phase through our identity. What makes us special? Attractive? How do we stand out? Why are we preferred to other human beings? Companies spend millions of dollars on differentiating their products and services from those of their competitors. As individuals, we do the same thing although most of us prefer to be subtle about it unless our last name is Kardashian. Still others of us stubbornly deny we are seeking differentiation even though the Birkenstock sandals or Nike running shoes on our feet are just another identity marker that yes, defines who we are. Differentiation is natural and inescapable. The Holy Grail of marketing, as I used to advise my clients, was whether or not a product or service found its highest value in contributing in a beneficial manner to the identity of the customer. If it did, both stable demand and price inelasticity (the customer will buy regardless of price) were assured. Ka-ching $!

As we enter middle age—the third quarter and the beginning of the actualization phase of our life—we begin to evolve from striving to thriving. Identity remains important, but we need more than the fruits of striving to achieve a higher state of well-being. This is when meaning and purpose come into higher consideration. Belonging to groups often becomes tiresome. Acquiring status symbols lose their shine. We begin to realize that our prime—at least physically—has passed. Maintaining our physical selves takes greater effort but, the good news is, our mental capacities and capabilities begin to contribute more to our well-being to compensate. It is when we begin our transition from what British psychologist, Raymond Cattell, identified as fluid intelligence to crystalized intelligence, commonly known as wisdom. For many, the actualization phase is the most rewarding of their life. The things we find meaningful in life—from careers to children to our spiritual sense of being—begin to be realized; they come into fruition. Success becomes defined as having a durable sense of standing in the world we claim as ours. Striving, plus this sense of meaning, produce thriving.

Sometime in this third quarter (usually late in the quarter) something else occurs that defines the balance of our lives—that either set up the possibility of transcendence in the last quarter, or send us on a path of physical, mental, and emotional decline into a fourth quarter of suffering where we languish rather than rise to achieve liberation and, ultimately, sweet peace. We either recognize the constraints of our constructed identity and work to shed many of its aspects, or we allow it to harden in a manner that narrows our world further, foreclosing any hope of liberation. Those who fail to recognize that liberation-cum-sweet peace is only possible if we rise above ourselves by shedding our once useful (but now detrimental) identity, will be chained to a treadmill that is no longer moving. They will hit a wall of irrelevance and, too often, spiral into a life of bitterness and depression.

My lesson in this regard came fairly early in my third quarter, but the revelation it provided was not apparent to me until I had completed many years—fifteen-plus years—of reflection. It was my participation in the two-week Wilderness Skills Course at the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) in Lander, Wyoming that set the stage for my revelation. In the first few days of the course, which navigates a piece of the Wind River range of mountains, I thought, what have I gotten myself into? I wanted to go back to Lander and drive away. My motivation for attending at forty-one years old (by far the oldest in the course) was to not only learn wilderness skills, but also learn to follow. Yes, not lead, follow. The contrarian in me thought what better place to learn to follow (after being a leader in business for the prior twenty years) than a course where everyone else was trying to learn to lead. (That part worked out spectacularly well.) When the two weeks came to a close, I was weirdly overwhelmed with a desire to stay in the wilderness and skip the bus ride back to Lander. The revelation that took so many years to kick in was that I had discovered a new sense of euphoria having been stripped of my identity and allowed to form a durable relationship with nature that could not care less about my carefully crafted identity.

In the years that followed the NOLS course, I began, slowly but surely (and largely sub-consciously), to shed my identity. Weirdly, it started with no longer wanting logos on my clothes which, for someone into sports and recreation where logos are everything, was especially challenging. Then, dropping my memberships, affiliations, and associations with all manner of groups, including political parties. My appetite for things—for superficial ‘stuff’—also declined as my wants and desires waned. Moving from Texas to Colorado also allowed me to drop many aspects of my identity just by the act of relocation. Today, I am much less defined in my identity, but also less encumbered to explore life in an open-minded and open-hearted manner. Rather than becoming, I can focus on just being. I am, slowly and deliberately, erasing my slate. Nowhere as clean as the one on the day I was born, but cleaner than it has ever been since. To be clear, I have not lost myself. I still know who I am. I still engage with the world, albeit in a different fashion. The irony is that by shedding the things I allowed to define me, I know myself, and have created the space to honor that self, more than ever before. If others find me perplexing, so be it. It’s my life, not theirs. And, I can set that self aside to sit in a seat of greater awareness to appreciate much more of a world that is both disturbing and enchanting.

The above thesis and framework were developed and synthesized studying a number of cultural anthropologists and psychologists as well as spiritual teachers including Thich Nhat Hanh, Michael Singer, Jeanne-Marie Mudd, Joan Halifax, Adyashanti, and Joseph Goldstein. This is my path to transcendence which, I have to say, has lit many light bulbs for me in the last two years. Probably more so than in any other intellectual/spiritual process I have engaged with in my previous six decades. I feel I have found my path to transcendence. That said, all, or some, or none of this may be applicable for your path. One of the things I have learned is that such pathways to transcendence and sweet peace are as individualized as fingerprints. I share it in the chance it may be beneficial to you, but take it or leave it as you wish.

What I can say is that calm is my new joy. After a great deal of tumult and pain in my life during the last two years, I have found a place of equanimity. The disturbances and discontents that inflicted others no longer afflict me. FOMO (fear of missing out) has been replaced by the equanimity of missing out. Let the rabble roar. If you have triggers, they are yours, not mine. My awareness is elsewhere. My mind is sucking up knowledge like a kindergartner. It is a very different me than the one I left behind. No burdensome expectations or obligations, no doubts, or fears, or anger. Moreover, no hurry. Death will come when it will and I will welcome it in the same manner I welcomed life: with a sense of optimistic curiosity. Whether it is a door or a wall doesn’t matter, because I have my sweet peace in this world and it is simply magnificent.

By |2023-12-01T15:46:00+00:00August 2nd, 2022|General, Recent, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Finding Home

The concept of home is perhaps the most comforting of any we summon when we feel the need for safety and comfort and the nurturing presence of others we regard as family. In past American generations, home was a given: it was where you grew up then grew old. It was immutable. It was a place one could neither choose for or against; it just was. Seasons changed and generations passed, but home was home.

My grandparent’s generation were the last Americans to experience home as a static concept. The Greatest Generation who followed were the first to move beyond to introduce the idea that home was a place to be decided upon rather than inherited. World War II, and the rise of the United States as a superpower, both allowed and, at times, required the displacement of family members to form new homes and traditions at locations that were often great distances from the family homestead, as those sanctuaries of heritage were known. From the 1960s onward, the sanctity of permanence assured by family homesteads was diluted and dispersed and, no matter how hard we tried to reestablish new homesteads, it proved impossible to recreate the multi-sensory characteristics of what we had lost as we pursued the ambitions and tribulations of modern life.

As a boy, I never felt more at home than on my maternal grandparents windowed-in front porch in rural South Dakota where I would often nap after busy mornings tailing my grandfather. Tall elms shaded the yard while mourning doves cooed. Gophers scampered to and fro as the chase was always on. My grandfather gently rocked in his Stickley-styled chair while the livestock market prattled on his small AM band radio providing a hint of structure from a distant world. As I lay on the porch swing anchored to the slat-wood ceiling by chains above, the creak of the swing synched up with the rhythm of his chair as the warm alfalfa-scented breeze gently caressed my grandmother’s white lace curtains. We were both home; an unspoken generation-skipping bond I still cherish today and summon in my heart when I need the comfort of refuge.

Regrets? Yes, I have a few. I suspect I am not alone when I say I have struggled to establish that sense of home that seemed effortless to my grandparents. I regret embracing transience over permanence. My generation couldn’t be bothered with deep roots. The faster we moved the more successful and fulfilled we thought our lives would be. We failed (or at least I failed) to provide an enduring sense of home for my children. We built bigger and better houses, but seldom established homes. Today, the vast majority of Americans have residences, but no home. Of course, “homeless” is not how we describe them, yet that is what they are.  Homeless is a term invented during my lifetime to describe those without shelter. People have suffered throughout history from lacking shelter and, as during the Great Depression and Dust Bowl, were forced to leave their homestead, but the concept of home endured—it traveled. And, once the forces of displacement resolved, many returned to that same place to reclaim it as home. Today, most Americans have no idea where home is; in many cases because it never existed.

The lack of home in this traditional sense is seen by many as the inherent cost of progress. But, have we progressed? American society is falling apart. There is no dimension of its structure I can point to and claim, “Look there: stability!” Many point to the decline of religious faith as the source of instability. Others are threatened by people who don’t look like them and aim their blame there. Still others see technology—at once enabling and empowering—as the source of societal ills. The truth is (as always) partly here, partly there, and somewhere in between. I will suggest the disorientation and chaos we are experiencing today is due to the fact we are all like individual boats—captained alone—whose compasses can’t find home. We are subject to prevailing winds that push us about but not one vessel on the vast water of America has an anchor. No way to arrest our drift or pause to set a new course. No capacity to sit still. No way to find the safety and comfort and the nurturing presence of others we regard as family. No home.

I have a back-pocket thesis about cultures I have witnessed—like most villages in Italy—where generational homes still exist. Where home still happens. When I have been fortunate to observe these places, I am filled with that warm sense of permanence their citizens enjoy while also feeling that pang of lament for what I, and we as Americans, have lost. I fantasize about moving there and spending the rest of my life basking in the presence of home. I feel the same way in Ireland, which many generations ago was a place some of my ancestors called home. My thesis is that these are cultures that are well ahead of America. That’s right: not behind, ahead. They are cultures once cursed by the same pattern of success and downfall America is now experiencing. They too lost their sense of home through empire collapse, war, and famine. Then, they came home. And, stayed there. Yes, they go out into the world to achieve an expanded sense of awareness, but then they come home. Maybe there is a lesson in there for us.

On my own now, I feel an obligation to stay home—to stay put unless traveling to expand my own awareness or support my family that is dispersed from coast to coast. It’s my nod to the wisdom of the Italians and Irish. I chose the Colorado Rockies, or perhaps they chose me. It is my sanctuary from the madness of crowds; the disenchanted, angry, and too-often violent people who are destroying America. A cop-out? Maybe, but so be it. I have also learned, through deep contemplation, that establishing home at this stage of my life requires that I remain in the seat of Self in the traditions that regard consciousness as the essence of being. My pillow to sit on wherever I may (physically) be. In this conceptualization, home is where I am, wherever that may be at any particular time. Mystical? Damn right. It is imperfect—not my grandparent’s porch—but it works for me.

I will leave you today with my poem, “The Fading Light.”

 

My wake, once deep and frothy, recedes now—ripples to glass.

Wisdom swells in its place, washing the stains of life away.

Hands hardened by toil and conflict give way to a softer heart,

beating to the delicate rhythm of tranquility.

Alone with thoughts both grand and small,

mediated by memories of triumph and loss.

Cast as a voyeur now to the victories and defeats of others.

Eyes fixed on the tumbledown of humanity.

Will they find their way, or consume themselves?

Time knows but remains, for the moment, silent.

My mark fades now into the twilight of obscurity.

Just enough light to find my way out as the curtain falls.

 

Have a wonderful week ahead. Until my pen draws ink, again.

By |2023-12-01T15:45:27+00:00May 22nd, 2022|General, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

The Zen of the Irish

Ireland has produced some of the greatest poets, novelists, songwriters and musicians in the history of the world. It is a culture guided by simple phrases and smiling limericks. A lyric here and there explains everything from the great mysteries of the universe to what to expect in the afternoon; more often than not a “soft rain.” Not “drizzle” as it was known where I grew up near Seattle that suggests a relentless canopy of depression, rather a more elegant and humane rendering that fosters a sense of well-being enveloped by a nurturing lifeforce. Therefore: “soft rain.” The Irish know how to keep a wall between joy and suffering. Suffering is always lurking, why give it a perch upon which to prosper? Perspective is everything.

The Irish are known for their perseverance founded in perspective. Whether at the hands of British oppressors, the despair of a relentless famine, or the sadistic perversions of wayward nuns and priests, the Irish have endured. “Irish luck” may be the greatest oxymoron in the world, giving rise to the old saying, “if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” The contemplation of luck in Ireland is actually their whimsical way of mocking reality. Alas, only tourists kiss the Blarney Stone and wish on shamrocks. The Irish are often seen by Americans as though they expect to be punished—that they deserve to suffer. When I was a student at University College Cork in Ireland, I misunderstood their sense of fate as weakness, which I now understand as extraordinary strength and timeless wisdom.

In part, the Irish come to accept their fate as a product of their Catholic indoctrinations. After all, sinners (meaning everyone) deserve their suffering and punishment. Unlike Protestantism, Catholicism doesn’t allow the prospect of direct relations with a merciful God. Martin Luther’s sixteenth century concept of disintermediation—reducing the role of the church between man and God—which runs as a thread through his ninety-five theses (and later came to mark the period of Protestant Reformation), were never adopted by the papal collectors of simony who preserved their right to forgive indulgences (for a price) as a way to fill church coffers. Money (then as now) remained a prerequisite to mercy. The pope, and through him, the parish priests, are God’s only earthly authority in the Catholic version of Christianity. Irish Catholics accept the word of God from the robed ones in funny hats; any attempt at theological interpretation by parishioners is considered a fool’s errand. However, accepting sacrifice and anguish is more than a cultural condition promoted from the pulpit on Sundays. It also gave rise to the Irish secret weapon in forging a meaningful life: rethinking the relationship between life and reality.

Rather than fight with reality as most Americans do, the Irish aim is to simply manage their relationship—through the power of reflection—with a reality they see as mostly immutable. We Americans are taught to regard perseverance as something we are forced to do if we neglect the imperative to bend reality in our favor. We believe in our ability to be masters of our destiny (the facts be damned). Unlike Christians in America who pray to change circumstances and outcomes, the Irish pray as a matter of resolve to deal with things as they are. Americans grieve about what isn’t so, while the Irish deal with what is so. Whereas Americans regard acceptance of circumstance as a character flaw, the Irish know it is a sign of strength as resilience. The Irish take the world before them and accommodate it in a manner that minimizes suffering while preserving their dignity. That is how drizzle becomes a soft rain, hunger fortifies the soul, and humility (and confession) fill and smooth the cracks of transgression. It is their relationship with reality that is important, not reality itself. That is their secret weapon.

The key that opens the door to this relationship management skill—a cultural asset of the Irish—is reflection. While perspective is the foundation of perseverance, it is only possible through reflection. The basis of reflection is time and thoughtfulness, also known as deliberation. It not only allows better decision making, it fosters a creative process to support their wordcraft and music. Considering all aspects of every challenge from every angle and in consideration of both costs and (often hidden) benefits, the Irish create the opportunity for making lemonade when life hands them lemons, rather than the American proclivity for making mountains out of mole hills. Some might argue they have no choice while our American life is advantaged by greater leeway to satisfy our needs and avoid unwelcome consequences. Fair enough. Americans do have many advantages over the Irish (and most of the rest of the world). But how often do we Americans successfully bend reality to meet our desires, when we (and those around us) might have been better off simply adjusting our relationship with that same reality? Incessantly pounding square pegs into round holes has its own subtle, yet grinding, consequences.

Desire is, as both Buddha and Christ held, a sure pathway to suffering. Desire inherently demands change from the actual to the preferred. Americans often waste desire on superficial materialism that comes with lots and lots of packaging to satisfy mostly transient wants, while the Irish save desire for more moderate elements of life: a pint of stout, freshly baked soda bread, a warm heart, and a tune to weave them all together. Behind that Irish preternatural calm—that expressionless resolve—lies not the weakness of resignation; rather, the enduring resilience of timeless wisdom. As the Serenity Prayer intones, wisdom lies in knowing the difference between what can and cannot be changed. Ignoring such wisdom nearly assures suffering.

The key to happiness and fulfillment in the Irish life is sitting on the top of the wall between joy and suffering without falling to either side. This is the balance, or harmony, of equanimity—the calm state in the middle of the maelstrom that is the reality of life. They take life as it comes without chasing elements they do not control. They call it the Serenity Prayer for a reason. Can you imagine how much time this frees up for them? Without trying to twist and bend reality to their will, they have time to write, to laugh, to sing, and to care for all those children the church requires to keep its theological (and economic) Ponzi scheme alive.

It is argued that the path to transcendence is getting rid of the stuff—from material wants to our emotional and psychological hang-ups—that block one’s liberation to realize an open and fulfilling life. Spiritually constipated Americans take note: sit down with your eyes wide open, shut your mouth, let your ears get some playing time, breathe deeply through your nose, and let life come to you on its own terms. Foster a healthier relationship with reality. And, when you are ready, sip a Guinness. Do not chug it, sip it. It is not a Big Gulp, it is nourishment. It enables reflection and soothes the soul. After a couple, you may even sing like an Irishman. Or, write a piece titled “The Luck Zen of the Irish.”

Cheers.

By |2023-12-01T15:46:50+00:00April 5th, 2022|General, Spiritual|0 Comments
Read More

Our Time Has Come

The splitting of the chrysalis is underway; soon enough our wings will wriggle free and demand flight.

We now have permission to ask the question, “Now what?”

It is time to put our drama of trauma away. Set our claims of victimhood aside. Straighten our backs and turn our faces, once again, into the wind. From this point forward, if we are feeling oppressed or depressed it is no one’s fault but our own. The urgency of suffering and pining for “normal” has slipped from fashionable to just boring.

Two years into the pandemic we have learned a great deal about ourselves as Americans. While we can point to failures of political leadership, our scientists and healthcare providers—doctors, nurses, technicians, and public health officials—performed extraordinarily well; arguably the best in the world. Our failure to successfully quash the pandemic resides within ourselves as individuals. We neither trust each other, nor can be trusted to do the right things. Ignorance is no excuse; it is our uniquely American character that failed us—individually and collectively. The responsible independence that launched an empire of freedom, creating the greatest superpower in the history of the world, morphed into a toxic narcissism that directly resulted in extraordinary suffering and thousands of avoidable deaths.

But, at some time, all the analyses and debates—political, epidemiological, and cultural—do little, if anything, to advance our lives in a meaningful manner. That time is now.

Regardless of our age, race, gender, or ethnicity we are now emerging into our new post-pandemic selves. We have all struggled and experienced loss in different ways and to different degrees. In the same manner as “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” pain flows through hearts without a predictable trajectory or outcome. Scar tissue is a certainty, but it is our burden as humans to reconcile these events in our own time and fashion—largely on our own. The best we can do now is to allow space and time and be there for each other when our wings wriggle free.

As many of you know, for me, Nature is god. I never took to the rituals and parables and especially not to the judgments and condemnations of organized religions. While many weep at the sanctity of the divine as sunlight streams through stained glass on the glowing altar of devotion accompanied by the harmony of hymns, my tears are shed with joy in my heart as I rest on a fallen log deep within the forest that shelters its inhabitants under a canopy of life. My sweet peace is found in the eyes of a fox who carefully studies me with the intention of a brother in the realm equanimity. We aren’t just of one world; we are of one heart.

Unlike traditional religions, my Nature-as-god contemplation of spirituality actually has a scientific basis. Quantum Field Theory holds that we are all inescapably linked to one another. As the electromagnetic field and electron field interact, all manner of energy and influence are conveyed by and between all of us, whether animals or plants. Albert Einstein called this “spooky action.” Physicists call it quantum entanglement. I accept it as life. Among other things, it provides the foundation for a concept I first put forward in a graduate school seminar in international relations now more than a dozen years ago: coopetition—competing to cooperate. Win-win rather than win-lose.

Like many of you, I grew up schooled in the ethic of win-lose. It took most of my life to unwind my mind from the needless perniciousness of this paradigm. Unfortunately, the pandemic was addressed principally by old white men like me who can’t let go of this win-lose ethic.  The results speak for themselves. And, until and when we can get past this, we have little, if any, hope of succeeding in addressing the more profoundly existential threat of climate change.

Our failure has been literally baked into our future thanks to everything from religions that espouse their particular God as the only legitimate god, to political parties that spend all their time shaming and condemning the other side. We deserve our fate. In the next era (if we are granted one) perhaps we will realize that “spooky action” holds that hurting one another only hurts ourselves resulting in a spiral of collapse. I acknowledge that Jesus Christ would agree with me, but am perplexed and saddened to observe self-proclaimed committed Christians in America acting otherwise every day.

At this point, finding our way (Now what?) is more important than a destination we may never—likely will never—reach. Sweet peace is not the prize at the end of the rainbow, it is the rainbow. Rest assured, in the fog of deceit, given time, truth will prevail. We must remember that life is full of both success and failure, but our learnings come principally from failure. We must keep our hearts and minds open to revelation; add patience and deliberation and the answers will reveal themselves.

Grasping at easy answers and forcing fruition is a fool’s game. Let life reveal itself in a manner that assures durable enhancements to our lives. Likes, clicks, and memes are trash that clutters the gutters of our souls. To know something “by heart” means more than memorization; it means we have learned from the heart, with our hearts, which provide the great mitigators to calm our frenetic minds. Knowledge emanating from our minds and beliefs from our hearts must be carefully balanced; curated with our eyes set on a distant horizon.

Our time has come to live in silent jubilation for being spared during the worst of the pandemic.  We must accept what we owe ourselves and each other: an acknowledgment of our obligations and dependencies to the spiritual realm of being that does not differentiate humans from other animals, or even other organisms. This is the only path forward. The destination may not be within our control, but our intentions and direction of travel are. As Mary Oliver wrote in her poem, “The Journey”:

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do—

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Welcome back, everyone. Your life is yours again.

Please express it with due humility and care.

By |2023-12-01T15:47:35+00:00February 7th, 2022|General, Spiritual, The New Realities|0 Comments
Read More
Go to Top