His Ever-Shining Light

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March 17, 2021- The little boy would always raise his glass, at the dinner table, and call out “Achtung”! He had seen John Banner’s character, Sergeant Schultz, give that command on “Hogan’s Heroes”, and it seemed appropriate for making a toast.

He was fourteen years my junior, but never saw me as any better than he. I was, in fact, one of his favourite wrestling partners, and when I “let” him pin me, he’d say, “Oh yeah?” and pin me even more tightly.

There were things he, in fact, grasped, that the rest of us had to think about a good while longer: Mom and Dad were the most important people on Earth; Medication, which in his case was constantly being switched and adjusted, was the bane of human existence-especially when it failed to prevent, and sometimes aggravated, the seizures that truly were the bane of his existence; There was nothing more important than a bear hug; There was never any excuse for anyone belittling another.

Brian had a limited spoken vocabulary-the seizures took care of that, early on. He was not, however, a stupid person, by any stretch-and managed to call me out, on a number of occasions, for having done something that made absolutely no sense to him. He had his favourite foods- pizza, fried clams and ice cream. When someone would spell out the word p-i-z-z-a, thinking he’d be fooled, my youngest brother’s answer was “OKAY!”. He lost his ability to walk, around the age of seven, which made being pushed in his wheelchair, around the neighbourhood, that much more important-and NOTHING beat going for a ride in the car. He loved seeing new places, but was okay with the beach, the forest preserve, our uncle’s and aunt’s cabin on Cape Cod. He was passionately in love with every girl he ever met. Going to school was the single most important part of his day.

When he passed on, twenty-seven years ago, today, Brian John Boivin had won the hearts of hundreds of people: Workers in the Special Needs schools of Massachusetts; attendants in the hospitals where he spent the last decade of his life; our second cousins, who were his sitters, when Mom and Dad went out for the evening, after we had all grown and left the nest; the cross street neighbours, who were his godparents; and most importantly, all of us who learned from him just what is most important in life.

Brian defined the adults each of his siblings became. For that, we can only repay him, by holding fast to the values which our parents imparted, and he underscored.

You Only THINK…

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March 10, 2021-

A story I heard today set me to musing.

In reality, there is no time when I don’t love my family members, to a one. You only THINK that I have left you behind.

There is no amount of trouble that could turn me away from my child. You only THINK that time and distance have crafted a wall.

There is no barrier tall or thick enough that could get between me and my God. Some only THINK that they can be that impediment.

There is no lie enticing enough, shimmering enough, to convince me that down is up. Some only THINK that its repetition will do the trick.

There is no true link between narcissism and piety. The narcissist only THINKS that a tie can be contrived between the two.

Be careful. What you think becomes your reality. It will not become mine.

Estrangers

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March 7, 2021- This morning, after ten years of my being a member, in good standing, of a veterans’ service organization, the matter of my Faith was raised-specifically that I am viewed by some, who I have known and with whom I’ve gotten along well for this past decade, as a “non-Christian”.

The context of this was with regard to a request that I serve again as the organization’s Chaplain, a post I held, with a good record of service and with no complaints registered, for two years, prior to embarking on several years of extensive travel. That latter stream of activity is set to resume in July of this year, and for that reason, I am declining the above request. An officer in a service organization needs to stay put-even in the days of Zoom and Microsoft Teams.

The larger issue here is that there is a shrinkage of the social circle of many people, partly a result of the political mayhem that has been afoot in this country, across the spectrum, for the past dozen years-if not longer, and partly because of a rising false narcissism, rooted in fear. Those I joined for breakfast, nearly each Sunday that I was in town, for the past ten years, have taken to talking only among themselves and shoving everyone else, including yours truly, to the sidelines. A culture of estrangement has taken root, which can only be detrimental to those who profess belief in the Paragon of Love. That embracing of parochialism has, from what I’ve seen in the past, only led to bitterness.

I cannot, and will not, turn aside from my Heavenly Father, in the name of a label. I cannot, and will not, let “estrangers” define who I am. So, with all prayer and loving regard for the members of said service organization, it’s time to move on.

Crawling,or Walking, Out of The Tunnel?

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February 5, 2021-

I was gratified to see an extended family member write that she was moving on, from a climate of fear and distrust, to affirming her faith in God and country. To be trapped of one’s own accord, in a tunnel of false hopes and unfulfilled promises, is bound to lead to the depth of despair.

I’ve remarked in the past, that there is much to admire in both conservatism and progressivism. Placing value on hard work, a measure of self-reliance and pride in one’s legitimate heritage can see a person through a good many of life’s misfortunes. At the same time, embracing new ways of solving problems, being open to a wide variety of points of view and being inclusive of all groups of people can ensure that a person is never truly alone-even in the direst of times. What matters, regardless of one’s personal ideology, is a deep-seated respect for ALL life. Compassion must ever rule over transaction.

So it has been that I have opted for walking out of various tunnels of darkness and deception. Many have offered quick fixes to problems, false hopes for resolution of matters, in which my personal growth actually mandated seeing them through. It was cold and lonely in those tunnels-and the demons that did keep me company were worse than no company at all.

In the gathering light of day, and in the shimmering starlight, walking upright and looking straight ahead have rekindled strengths that I had nearly forgotten, whilst crawling about the tunnel of delusion. Those who maintain clear vision, and retain a healthy sense of their own truth, will be sources of untold strength-to selves and others.

One Spirit

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January 30, 2021-

I have an independent mind, the expression of which has left several people around here, and elsewhere, who I fairly trusted, responding with “LOL”, or with sullen silence. The thing that I find funny is that several of them pride themselves on being people of faith. The belief that there is One God, Who created all life, is as central to their pronounced faith, as it is to mine.

So, it is incredulous to me that people can even distinguish between human beings, as to who deserves to live. It befuddles me, that there are at least two classes of people, and this distinction is a point of pride, a cornerstone of belief.

There is, by my reckoning, One Creator, One Spirit, One Universe, One Planet Earth and One Human Race. I have differences of opinion with many, AND that does not diminish their humanity-as far as I am concerned. For saying this, however, I have lost several friends, at least one extended family member and a few members of my own Faith, for not adhering to an orthodoxy that claims to be fighting for freedom-but is rooted in fear.

Let’s look at a few matters, more closely:

  1. Human Rights- I hear the First National Youth Poet Laureate say that the mind of a child is paramount. This same person also says that medical professionals should be allowed to put unborn children to death. What happens to the mind of a child who is not even allowed to be born? I hear some of the same people who espouse abortion, as a routine practice, voice opposition to the Death Penalty, even for the most heinous of murders.
  2. Nationalism- I see and hear people of various backgrounds, some with medical degrees and some with law degrees, saying that America should be a White, Christian nation-exclusively. What, exactly, is a White Nation? The continent of Europe, alone, is home to seventy different ethnicities. Jesus loved people of all the known nations of His time-and loves everyone, the world over, now. The first Christians, outside of a smattering of Jews in the Holy Land and a handful of Greeks, were Ethiopians, South Asians and Turkic people in Central Asia. The majority of Christians today are People of Colour.
  3. Wealth- Yesterday, a wealthy investor took to social media to furiously denounce those who have actively engaged in buying inexpensive stocks, offered by companies which produce goods and services in which they have a common interest. His basic point was that there was a move to destroy our economic system. That this participation will actually strengthen the nation’s economy, in the long run, is willfully ignored by those who favour keeping things as they historically have been. There is no club. There is no exclusive society that deserves preference over all other human beings. The very use of the prefix “non-“, with reference to people outside one’s own circle, is odious and needs to be discarded. The selectivity which is promoted by so many leaders of groups may be temporarily necessary, in terms of how each of us structures our time, our attention and our energy-but for it to be a permanent psychological, emotional and legal barrier to seeing the humanity in everyone and the sentience of all beings, is treacherous to those whose rights are debarred- and to one’s own humanity. The concept of any human being superior to the next, even by dint of the preponderance of one’s demonstrated character, is in the long run, an abomination. We are each here to grow, to learn and to become one. There is, in the entire Universe, one Creator and one Spirit animating all life. All distinction is a matter of mental construct. All prejudice and hatred are little more than byproducts of unfaced fear.

So Many Questions

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January 26, 2021-

Being the curious sort, I tend to raise matters of “What if?” and “Why?” in my head, while also seeking answers from my heart. The queries I have, regarding this life and its priorities, are largely answered in Baha’i Scripture.

Where I get more querulous, though, is with regard to flashes of images, and feelings that arise, that suggest events that happened long ago and places I’ve never been, both elsewhere on Earth and way beyond this planet. The best explanation I can summon, that is in keeping with my beliefs, is that as an energy being, I am tapping into the energy waves of people long departed, both my ancestors and those of like mind who were not directly related to me, but who had similar personalities to mine. Energy communication, and genetic memory, are like Chinese boxes-writ innumerable. We have no concept of from how far back they have been transmitted-and Quantum Physics devises at least thirteen dimensions, many curled up on themselves, from which energy can conceivably be drawn.

For now, though, I wonder as to the messages that these images and feelings are trying to convey. I am not quite on board with the whole Past Lives theory, but can make sense of the notion that energy, from those who lived in past ages and centuries, and from other parts of the Universe, is transmitted to those of us who are open to it, on a regular basis-and without channeling or summoning, which can be too easily faked.

Beyond Heroism

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January 23, 2021-

Hank Aaron’s life, which transitioned to spirit yesterday, was a clear road map to both honouring God-given talent and transcending even the worst adversity. If Henry Louis Aaron, of Mobile, Alabama, thought of himself as a hero, it was never shown. He did regard himself as a craftsman, a practitioner, whose arts were hitting, catching and throwing a baseball. To that end, he applied himself, practiced rigourously and excelled. From 1974, until 2007, he was the record holder for most home runs hit by a major league baseball player. When his record was exceeded by Barry Bonds, Hank appeared on the Jumbotron and congratulated his successor, also expressing the hope that Bonds’ achievement would inspire others to do even better.

Hank Aaron’s enduring appeal will be that he lived as a man of faith- and thus, hate, even in reaction to that expressed by others, was foreign to his nature. Many heroic figures have stumbled on that note, with the attitude that fairness should preclude people from disdaining them. Hank recognized the myriad of causes for personal hatred: Jealousy, fear and false sense of superiority being the greatest among them.

I, rather unathletic, nonetheless feel indebted to Hank Aaron for showing the way through the worst of sloughs and through the finest of achievements. In many ways, both circumstances test one’s mettle. Henry Louis Aaron passed both tests.

Sharpening the Double-Edged Sword

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January 22, 2021-

I have a long, and strangely satisfying, history of talking back to and ignoring people who a) deem themselves above the masses or b) regard their cause as so sacrosanct that they can do whatever they wish, harm whoever they want and claim it in the interests of the “greater good”.

It does my heart good to see the course of the investigations into the January 6 invasion of the United States Capitol. I am pleased that the investigators are not fabricating any charges, that they are taking their time and not leaving any stone unturned. I am also pleased that the impeachment trial of Donald Trump is following due process, and is most likely waiting until the second week of February, in order to proceed. Justice will be served to those who reject the legitimate rights of people of colour, of women and people of faiths other than that of the dominant culture.

Justice also should be served to those who, by their own admission, are committed to burning the cities of Portland and Seattle. Hiding behind an amorphous and rootless organization, which has no charter and no philosophy, other than wanton mayhem, is a tactic that serves no good. Denying the duly elected and installed President of the United States is reprehensible, whether the terrorism comes from the alt-Right, as on January 6 or from the unhinged Left, as is being done, to scant resistance, in the cities of the Pacific Northwest. Both fringes will try to advance their unprincipled, nihilistic agendas-the Right, by going so far as to attempt to lead Texas, and possibly other states, to secede from the Union and the Left, by just burning everything to the ground, with no real plan for rebuilding.

At my age, 70, I am not concerned with upsetting those who view themselves as being in some sort of driver’s seat. Having been dismissed from positions, for not kowtowing to powerful individuals, when their actions have been questionable, the last thing with which I will ever be concerned is retribution/revenge. Both fringes have forfeited their rights to free speech, by their actions and attempts to intimidate good-hearted, thoughtful citizens and visitors, who are themselves occupying all points along the political spectrum.

Joe Biden was not my choice for President; nor was Donald Trump. I wish the former a successful term in office and the latter a fair trial. I wish all my decent and law-abiding friends, from Right to Left, safety, good health and all the freedom guaranteed by our Constitution. I will never bow to authoritarianism or tyranny, regardless of the point from which it emanates.

I hope that neither will you.

A Pair of Visions

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January 21, 2021-

It’s my wont to lie down for a mid-afternoon nap, especially after working since early morning. Just before drifting off, this afternoon, a story I had heard early this morning, on BBC World News, came into my consciousness again. A rural Texan, speaking with a BBC correspondent, had, after a bit of hubris and expression of a desire for his state to become its own nation, showed his visitor a light cannon he had on his property. Loading the cannon, he then lit the fuse and, as the small gathering in his yard looked on, dry brush in his yard and his neighbour’s yard caught fire. The blaze was extinguished with a pair of garden hoses, but left the militia man feeling it just wasn’t his week.

I had a vision, recalling that story, of a tornado sweeping the area in question, and of relief coming to the disgruntled area residents, from the very same Federal government they presently regard as illegitimate. I wish disaster on no one, yet have the knowledge that misfortune is frequently, nay almost always, the bearer of a life lesson, which the learner’s soul needs, in order to get past a block that is preventing the realization of one’s true self. Time will tell.

About an hour ago, whilst listening to a replay of Cosmic Guide Elizabeth Peru’s weekly live broadcast, I heard her mention that one of our foci, this coming week, is to contemplate “What is Your Vision?” That vision thing, again-though it is constantly calling my head into alignment with my heart. I closed my eyes, and the image I saw was my young spirit self looking out over a lush, terraced hillside-which may have been Tuscany (the first word that popped into my head), or Cape Province, South Africa; Napa County, California; northern Luzon, Philippines; the Western Ghats of India-indeed anywhere with misty mornings and a somewhat “Mediterranean” climate, or at least lush, terraced hillsides.

My tendency, as regards my Home Base, has been a bit on the complacent side, of late, and though I know the current national and global state of affairs requires this, there is also a level of comfort I feel here. The trick has been, and will be, to internalize that comfort level, to no matter where I happen to be called. I felt that, late last year, when visiting the prairie of north central Texas (albeit being with family), and even when on the overnight walkabout in a remote area east of here, earlier this month, there was a degree of comfort and surety that stayed with me. I was, somehow, among friends- cattle, coyotes, an intrepid wolf spider that was braving the cold, under a juniper tree-none of them directed anything but caution towards me.

There are some indicators of a more fluid life, come May. I was recently blessed with a backpack that will serve as a one-size-takes-all travel bag, thus eliminating two of my customary luggage items. A routine medical appointment has been scheduled for early May, rather than it usual late-month date. COVID will be the ultimate determinant, of course, yet the vision I had this evening likely counts for something.

It will be, in the meantime, a fascinating rest of winter and early spring.

My Love Letter to America

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January 19, 2021-

Dear America,

Tomorrow, a change will take place in our governance, which a bit more than half of the voting public wanted; which nearly half hoped, against hope, would perhaps be thwarted and a few of us, including yours truly, wanted to see blended with the best of what its opposite has advocated.

Changes are a constant. In order to truly realize the cohesion that every politician, regardless of stripe, says is imperative, may we look at what you have meant to so many-and what you might better mean to all who come to your shores.

“There was a time”, Neil Sedaka once sang, “when strangers were welcome here.” Yes, and no. People could come from everywhere, and there was a crucible to be borne. Those who were established, the First Nations, welcomed Europeans, sometimes openly and as time went on, and the mindset of conquest and dominance became more apparent from the first such Europeans, the welcome became far more cautious. People were brought here, mostly from Africa, but from other places as well, against their will-to serve and promulgate the fruits of conquest and dominance. Those who came from other parts of Europe, either in search of freedom from oppression and tyranny or in search of opportunity to succeed materially, had to prove themselves to those who had been here for a century or two-or at least had been here for a few decades.

Let you now be viewed, and experienced, as a place of healing. Of course, your people must begin by healing themselves-and one another. The energy, both spiritual and medicinal, that emanates from you is immense. The ancient wisdom, much of it preserved by the First Nations, and other parts of it rooted in the land itself, can serve to generate enormous healing for those who have lost their way, in the course of nearly five centuries of material quests and forgetting Who the Creator actually is.

I have had the blessed experience of carrying ley lines, from west to east, and back; from southwest to northwest, and back; from north to south, and back-over the past ten years. Far more than merely enjoying travel, as a friend remarked a few days ago, I sense that carrying healing energy-both for myself and for others I encounter- is both your gift to me, and my gift in return, back to you.

Blessed homeland, your nurturance has helped me shed so much emotional and psychological burden, and as I recall my early days of sitting very still, by a gurgling little brook or of visiting a hill, with a view of Boston’s skyline, from a rock behind a turreted house, I feel your healing energy has always been here. Even when buried under the Shrines of Progress, or when ravaged by all that people have deemed essential to build their empires, that energy has sighed, bided its time and waited, sometimes patiently and at other times expressing urgency.

Now, more of us see what the headlong rush into material advancement, regardless of cost, has produced. Now, more of us are making a place in our lives, a place in our hearts, for the healing which, alone, can bring a balance between material stability and spiritual well-being.

I love you, my homeland. May your strength of spirit long make itself known, and endure.