In the dark of the night

In the dark of the winter night

I lay awake, thinking of you and me.

I remember sunny treks in the Rockies,

You far ahead,

Me watching thunderclouds.

I remember when the rocks around the fire

Blew apart.

Fortunately we were higher up

Picking dandelion greens and miners lace

For our salad.

I remember hiking back to our 4WD,

Only to find a dead battery, miles from a road.

But we also found a hand throttle, a hand choke, and a hand crank!

The 67 Nissan Patrol was well prepared for just such an emergency.

We drive that way, starting with a crank, until we reached Gunnison where they fixed it (though the generator would plague us for the time we still owned it).

What an adventure

That I relived

Awake

In the middle

Of the dark night

Thinking of you

And me.

Thanks for all the memories.

– Small town boy

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Self Reliance

One of the principals of Burning Man is

Radical Self Reliance.

I want to rely on myself more.

For approval, for direction, for completing tasks.

No more, Is this OK? Or Does this look good? Or You decide.

I can validate myself, if I only focus and intend 

To be myself.

To find out who myself is I meditate and sit quietly and pause.

Beneath my mental rantings, my insecurities, my ‘please others’ stressor,

Lies myself, waiting to be.

He is a shy fellow, not used to be consulted in these matters, but

With use and exerise he will strengthen in his resolve to be.

To be felt, acknowledged, relied upon.

WWLD?

Intuition is the key, along with lack of expectation.

Arrive at the moment and listen.

What happens next is miraculous,

Small surprises, great moments of happiness, joy d’verve.

Looking back I see what myself can do

Cooperating and enjoying the universe moment by moment.

Simplifying life, one sense at a time.

I think I will eat a strawberry now.

Tht color, the texture,, the smell, the taste,

It is all too much.

Sensory overload.

I think I will enjoy my strawberry one sense at a time.

See how beautiful it is? Look at the seeds, the leaves, the variation in colors, the texture.

Wow, even one sense at a time overwhelms the soul.

Myself grows.

– Small town boy

The gun virus

It wasn’t a virus really, but

It acted like one.

People blamed Israel because of uzis.

They blamed Russia because of AK-47’s.

But the truth is no one knows where it came from.

But they know what it does.

It causes the firing pin not to fire.

Even replacing it with a new pin doesn’t work.

Guns don’t fire.

People who have spent a lot of money on guns are mad.

Police are frantic, military too.

Now robbers still use them and shout “BANG!”

The news is full of robbery, murder, and war that no longer rely on guns.

Knives have replaced guns for the most part, but that’s another story .

Archery has picked up.

People still kill people, but not with guns.

What’s next?

Hmmm, my car won’t start?

– Small town boy

The Tribe, My Tribe

Yesterday I made a new friend, we have experiences in common.

He’s an educator like me.

He taught 5th and 6th in southern Oregon for 30 years,

I taught high school science in Portland for 32 years.

He is 72; I am 76

And yet, we shared something.

We are both members of the Tribe, my Tribe,

The Tribe of educators.

We regaled each other with stories of our teaching days,

Stories of students past, former and older,

Stories of how we tricked or cajoled them to learn,

Magic and nonsense necessary for them to succeed.

We spent hours laughing and being sober over these stories of our past lives as teachers.

Stories at the core of our lives.

We are members of

The Tribe Who are educators.

There is a brotherhood/sisterhood of those who have stood before the faces of children and taught them to live.

This Tribe has expressed his or her own uniqueness given to us by the Creator by teaching children to live,

And we were expressing it yet today by teaching each other to live and value our contribution to the lives of children.

We’ve both been retired for years (nearly 30 yrs),

My wife and I are members in good standing of the Tribe of educators.

My kids too.

My mother and my wife’s mother are elders in the Tribe, and richly venerated.

There are many members who are retired now,

And many more still in the traces.

I ask the Creator to be with each one of us as we do what we were made for.

I ask the creator to be with me and my new friend too.

We have chosen this path, to the benefit of children.

-Small town boy

The Gift from Shirley

After meeting Monica and Vic,

The next spirit guide I met was

Shirley.

She was vivacious, sexy and had blond curly hair.

My grandson says you can learn anything on YouTube,

So…

I found several “Meet your personal spirit guide” videos.

Each is 15 minutes to 2 hours long,

Of deep, self-hypnotic, meditation in which

You meet your spirit guide, your personal spirit guide.

I had already met two, a woman and a man,

But today it was Shirley..

I saw her clearly enough to describe her, and to sketch her.

I liked Shirley.

She had been alive in Salem, Mass. She wasn’t a witch.

She was a protestant, somewhat protected from life”s excitement.

Anyway,

When she was leaving she turned and presented me with a gift.

Monica had done something similar, it was a crystal like the one in  my living room window that showers rainbows when my mother visits from the other side.

This gift from Shirley was a gold ring with a crystal in it.


No, it wasn’t this ring, but it was like this ring.

I had gone to Fred Meyers jewlers and asked if they had one. No, but Many Hands Trading (an import store) might.

SonI went to Many Hands Trading and asked if they had one. No

So I went to Amazon.

They had this ring for $3.47, plus $7.47 shipping, and they could get it to me in three days.

so… Tht’s it.  This is my gift from Shirley, one of my spirit guides, who lived in 1892.

Nice, huh?

I don’t know why Vic and Marc didn’t offer me a present. It doesn’t matter.

I find them, the spirit guides to be great, loving and helpful people,

And generous.

– Small Twon Boy

Meet my spirit guides

Spirit guides are spirits who guide you from cradle to grave.

I met mine via YouTube.

My grandson says you can learn anything and everything on YouTube.

I think he’s right.

Anyway, look for Meet your Spirit Guide

Deep meditation/self hypnosis video.

It’s was during one of these videos (I’ve since listened to several) that I met Mona.

I could visualize her and recognized her as someone I often see in my dreams; someone who has dark hair, olive skin, and dark eyes.

I actually met her in Venice Italy in 1999, during a solar eclipse. I was on the piazza, but wondering in the back shop area telling people not to look directly at the sun, but instead use a pinhole camera that I had made.

She came out of a store where she worked and I told her she was the girl of my dreams!

My wife Betsy also matched this description 45 years ago when we married.

During another deep meditation I met Vic. (Or Victor)

How did I know their names?

I asked them, and waited for the first name that came to me.

Mona had been a Maasai woman in 1890.

In 1894 book Durch Massailand zur Nilquelle (“Through the lands of the Maasai to the source of the Nile”): “There were women wasted to skeletons from whose eyes the madness of starvation glared … warriors scarcely able to crawl on all fours, and apathetic, languishing elders.

I’ve since learned that Mona’s name is Monica (the name of a friend who also matches the description).

Vic was a man named Leonard and worked in a meet packing plant where he killed the cattle to be butchered in 1940.

I have also met Shirley who is very sexy and precocious.

And Marc, an older man with no hair.

I have sketched each of these people in my journal. Shirley has blond curly hair.

But wait, there’s more.

I was meditating lying on my bed with my dog, Tawny, whom I now think is an animal spirit guide.

And then I met all six of my animal spirit guides (most of whom I know and have a long relationship with)

Ben, a large black bear. (After I met him I put on my bear costume and later gave bear hugs to anybody!)

Deloris , a doe. (I had just watched a deer family close up at the beach)

A crow named Calvin;

A great blue heron named Henry ;

A turkey vulture named Trent;

And a Ram named Randal.

(I’ve been checking my notes to be sure I got the names right)

Finally, I’ve been visited by friends and family: Gladys, my older sister; Trudie

A woman I worked with; and my uncle Monty.

So that’s my story. So far. Try it and see who you meet.

BTW I let Tawny pick our path on a dog walk and she took me to new places where I met interesting people in my neighborhood.

I have since read The Tao of Physics (I’m a retired physics teacher) and read about the seven laws of the universe.

This stuff wasn’t included in the 25+ years of formal education. I’m way deep in mysticism and have a new friend who is a spiritualist (for want of a better name.)

Peace, love and happiness.

– Small town boy

Puzzle pieces

My life is like a jigsaw puzzle.

I think I have all the pieces, 

Though I feel like some are missing.

My edge pieces, what you see, is mostly assembled.

There are dark places, or at least all gray,

Inside that I haven’t fully put together; I’m waiting till I get the shapes I know identified and then put together.

I really don’t have a picture on a box to go by in this.

I never thought I was trying to make a coherent picture of my life, till now.

Now I’m heavily involved in finding the right pieces that snap together to show the image that is my life.

I thought of this as I started my morning meditation.

I had to stop meditating because this idea about puzzles was racing through my mind,

Else I would forget what I was thinking.

Assembling the puzzle pieces places disparate events in juxtaposition.

Now I see how getting spanked then relates to spanking my children later in my life.

And how that prohibits me from doing it now.

Get the picture?

There is an unfinished corner area that is the rest of my life.

I have learned to step away from the puzzle table sometimes, so that, upon my return, I will immediately find that piece I had been hunting for the last half hour.

My pieces are comingled with pieces others have given me,

People willing to share what they see in me.

I cannot give up on this picture puzzle, it haunts me day and night.

Do you have anything to add?

– Small town boy

Acceptance

I learned the power of Acceptance in 2005 while I was working on Kausay Wasi Clinic in Coya, Peru.

I was there with twelve others from Portland, Oregon, on a construction mission sponsored by  Northwest Medical Teams, to change a prison into a medical center in the Sacred Valley of the Incas.

Sitting on a plastic five gallon bucket turned upside down, I was working on a wall socket that had been wired in series instead of in parallel, causing all to go out if one went out, like a Christmas tree light string.

As I listened to our hosts, Guido and Sandy Del Prado, discussing next year’s mission to continue this construction, I had an epiphany.

I could fund next year’s work.

I had fortuitously invested in Microsoft at it’s beginning and had the funds necessary.

As soon as I thought this I was struck with an overwhelming feeling of ? Of what? Of love? well-being? of I don’t know what, but it was powerful, emotional, and wonderfully frightening.

I was being loved and all my sins (?), past indiscretions, worries, guilt, negative energy, and more, were melted away by this feeling.

I was stunned. I felt of a sudden the power of love (acceptance). I felt good could  overcome evil, not because it was good, but because love is very, very strong. Strong enough that it could melt me with just a little more given to me then.

Love isn’t creamy and smooth. Love isn’t being starry eyed. Love is a very great, misunderstood power in the universe.

Like the mythological story of the wind and the sun trying to get the man to take off his coat (which sun won by warming him, doing what the wind could not by blustering). Love simply accepts you. I felt it. I felt it accept me.

I didn’t know I hadn’t felt accepted until this event happened.

I now knew what Acceptance was and that I had to accept myself.

I felt like a hot dog.

I felt like the bun, the relish, the catsup, the mustard, and the blemishes when stripped away and I felt accepted, allowed this glowing inner self to be revealed and seen and touched by me.

I hope you will feel this Acceptance one day. It seems more powerful than, but including, forgiveness.

Can you accept what I’m saying?

Can you see that you are accepted, no matter who you are, no matter what you have done or haven’t done?

And ultimately, can you accept yourself?

There is no need for forgiveness, just a need to understand.

You are accepted for who you are now.

You are loved more than you can know, because if you knew it would overwhelm you.

God is love. Love is power. Acceptance is how it manifests.

Peace.

-small town boy

 

I can’t love you anymore.

Damn auto correct.

I can’t love you any more .

I’m still learning to love you and I’m sharing as much as I know how.

Please God, help me to love you more.

My pastor says prayer is listening.

I’m listening, ok.

Alright, the tv news is on,

But I’m thinking about listening, Really.

(Please ignore any further Auto correct. Can I turn it off?)

Sometimes I’m so full of love it spills out over anyone nearby.

Sometimes I feel like I have barely enough for myself.

I know the more I give the more I have, but

I’m here at the beach, alone,

Listening for love.

Shhh, hear that?

No, it was nothing but the wind and the surf.

Or, was that you? Blowing me a kiss?

I love kisses.

– Small town boy

The Vote

January, 2017

Women hold about 20% of all elected offices in the nation, states, cities.

(http://www.cawp.rutgers.edu/current-numbers)

0 US Presidents

104 in US Congress (19.4%)

75 Governors (24%)

1832 in State Legislatures (24.8%)

Women in the US got the vote on 26 August, 1920 (My mother was 10)

Men lost the vote on 26 august, 2020 (100 years after women got the vote)

It all started on 21 January 2017, the Women’s March.

After three and a half years, men’s suffrage came to an end.

Men’s names were removed from voter’s rolls.

Men were no longer able to hold public office.

Men in the military were restricted to noncombat zones.

Men’s place was now in the home.

Washing dishes, keeping house, caring for children, gardening, etc.

Men were secluded during the nine months of pregnancy of their woman, and the days of menses.

Boys were required to finish the eighth grade only as they were deemed unable to do any more.

All legal documents were rewritten to be signed by women, including the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.

The bible was rewritten from a woman’s point of view.

All books were rewritten telling of the heroic tales of women.

All teachers, administrators, professors were women.

All doctors, nurses, and medical support were women.

Professional sports were turned over to women.

All news anchors and all news women were women, and all talk shows on radio and TV.

All reality shows were about women.

All workers in car plants were women, and in airplane manufacturing too.

Only women drove big crew cab pickups. 

All CEO’s and millionaires and billionaires were women as women assumed their rightful role in business.

All priests, pastors, ministers, rabbis, and Islamic religious leaders were women. 

All philosophers, writers, gurus, and philanthropists were women.

Women held elections to replace men in public office.

Women replaced police officers, though fewer were needed.

Courtesy meant women held doors open for men, the weaker sex who were unable to govern themselves.

Men’s dress changed to emphasize their male beauty: backless gowns, short mini skirts, cod pieces.

And the same scene was repeated around the world,

As men stepped down, and women stepped up.

What did God think?

She smiled.


-small town boy