Three comments made by readers of my post “Breathe in Bliss”, as well as my responses to them, were removed without my knowledge. I would like to make sure this is not the beginning of censorship.
The Road to 65, Mile 290: The Soup of Good Fortune
September 13, 2015, Prescott- I spent three hours today, in one of the most worthwhile of endeavours. The Empty Bowls Project is an annual event in Prescott, on Courthouse Square, where so many of our great community events take place. I was given the job of Gazpacho Ladeler. Each of us ladelers gave a contributing patron 6 oz. of soup in either a ceramic bowl, which they had purchased, or in a free Styrofoam bowl. Patrons could come back for second helpings, so one or two of the more popular soups (i.e. lobster bisque) ran out.
Various restaurants in Prescott and nearby Prescott Valley sent a plenitude of soups, most of them hot. The gazpacho seemed to be the only one that wasn’t. Even so, there was just about a bowl left over, when we stopped at 2:10, and the chef came to get her materials. My tangible reward for this effort was two 16 oz. cups of soup, one minestrone and one coconut cauliflower curry. Far greater, of course, is knowing that a substantial amount of money was raised for the benefit of local food banks.
I went back to the house afterward, and finished reading “Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior”, which recounts Dan Millman’s experiences, whilst on Oahu and Molokai. I sat, totally concentrating on the last fifty pages of the book, and journeyed with him through various dimensions and states of mind. He did not use hallucinogens, and I can identify with that, since my own mind can make its way to worlds that hardly make sense, in a tangible context. This afternoon, I only followed his lead.
After my reading was finished, I was given the message to prepare a certain soup of my own. I first peeled the rind off a butternut squash, after cleaning out its seeds and slicing off the ends. Then, I did the same with an eggplant and a red pepper, adding lean ground beef and a few figs, with various seasonings. Turmeric was put in there, for some reason. I don’t usually add it to a vegetable soup, but there it was.
The scraps and seeds were then buried in the backyard, in an impromptu garden plot. I’ve never heard of planting so close to Fall, but that was the message I got- and well, trust the journey. We’ll see what transpires.
I will regard the resulting concoction as a soup of good fortune- celebrating what appear to be doors opening for me, even as a door of friendship, of two years’ duration, seems to be closing. Everything happens in its time.
The Road to 65, Mile 289: Breathe In Bliss
September 12, 2015, Prescott- Several things happened today. One of my brothers turned 60. I made my usual morning visit to the Prescott Farmer’s Market, and had my usual cup of coffee with a sweet treat. After buying a few vegetables, I encountered my good friends, Happy and Johnny. Since they had a booth at the Market, with foraged goodies from a nearby forest, I spent close to an hour, talking with them, nibbling on things like manzanita berries, sweet acorns and prickly pear fruit. I even peeled and sliced a prickly pear fruit- if you ever get the chance, first double check the rind for small spines. I caught a tiny nub of spine in my finger, but got it out, without any hassle.
This afternoon, lunch was a grilled hot dog, courtesy of a Recovery Group, so I gave them a small donation. Soup from Shannon’s Deli also filled the bill. I went to a memorial service, in mid-afternoon, for the parent of a friend. So many elders have left this year- and many babies are coming, to take their places in this world. I was pleased to see at least seven infants and toddlers, in various places. They are all so busy. I wonder, at what do we start to lose the focus we had as infants, mastering mobility and as toddlers, absorbing so much data about the world all around us.
Happy says, “Breathe in bliss”. I notice that, no matter the constraints put on me, I can do that. Breathing mindfully clears a lot of tension and confusion. It can have an effect on those in one’s immediate surroundings, as well. I am as at peace, right now, as I was when at Tuileries, in Paris, or walking a trail in El Dorado Springs, Colorado.
Sadly, it doesn’t affect everyone. I lost a friend, this evening; but as I heard her voice fading, over the phone, and said my goodbye, a strange calm came over me, and I sat, in perfect stillness, for several minutes. A message came to me: “You are a threat to no one, and if they perceive you as such, perhaps it is a reflection of their own view of the Universe.”
Breathe in bliss. Doors are opening.
The Road to 65, Mile 288: When Systems Fail
September 11, 2015, Prescott- I checked on my pay status, early this morning, and found that the employer in question had not deposited my due payment. So, after getting self together, I went to the office of my immediate supervisor, who looked into the matter and arranged for due payment for me, and several others who were likewise inconvenienced, either by a system glitch or by the negligence of clerks.
This being the fourteenth anniversary of the various attacks on U.S. soil, I think about systemic failures, large and small. It’s quite clear that the New York attacks were the subject of chatter, days before they happened, but human error, or insouciance, led to a lack of defensive action. Of course, implosion devices, installed during the Clinton years, led to the collapse of the Twin Towers, rather than an outward explosion, which would have compounded the deaths and destruction in lower Manhattan. That is no comfort at all for the thousands of families affected, in perpetuity, by the horror of that day, and its subsequent days of loss and suffering.
The other two major events of that day seem more surreal. There is some doubt, in several circles, as to the truth in the matter of the Pentagon attack. I have seen the Memorial, and am certain that all those who are remembered there, died a horrible death, aboard a plane. Naysayers, who wonder if there was indeed a plane, are no help to the families who lost people that day. The most likely scenario is that the plane vaporized, though the question remains: “What was done with the wreckage?” For reasons of national security, we may never know.
I have also been to the site of the Pennsylvania crash. The Earth was scorched, and there were signs of a huge crash there, when Penny and I stopped there, in 2009. There are sufficient voice recordings to back up the reports of that day. The farmer, on whose land the crash occurred, had no reason to simply give up that section of his property to the U.S. Government, on a whim. So, I am sure this event occurred, as reported.
There will always be failures of systems, large and small, whenever those in the system make errors in judgment, are fatigued, or get distracted. My father’s, and one of my high school mentor’s, exhortations to ALWAYS have a Plan B, have come in handy, time and again- and never more so than now. We may very well face a time when government grinds to a screeching halt, the finances we take for granted dissipate, however temporarily, and we are left with whatever family or community we have had the wisdom to cultivate- for a fair length of time.
I am not a doomsayer, or one who believes in a cup half-empty, yet being prepared is more than a Scout motto.
The Road to 65, Mile 287: Shakra Shuffle
September 10, 2015, Prescott- The day found me back at work with a disabled boy, and my mother turned 87, a fabulous age, in my book. She went line dancing, which does my heart good.
Mom has always taught us to show compassion, to put others first. So it has gone, and it has been to my benefit also- because of the Shakras. Indian medicine tells us there are seven shakras, or regions of energy concentration, in and around the human body. The first, in the genitalia, deal with personal survival. The second, in the lower viscera, focus on sexuality and creativity. The abdominal region focuses on personal power and discipline.
Most of us fond ourselves going back and forth from these “lower” areas of focus, even while priding ourselves on “higher” pursuits. A couple of years ago, I set out on a spiritually-focused journey, only to fall apart at the seams, midway through, and had to regroup and move forward, once again.
In 2014, whilst in Europe, I found myself more and more focused in the area of the fourth shakra- that of transpersonal love. You guessed it: The fourth shakra is in the region of the heart and lungs. This is said to feel like the most satisfying, because it is here that service is the main focus.
There are three higher shakras, however, and I was reminded of them, whilst reading a couple of other chapters of “Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior”, which recounts Dan Millman’s experiences in Hawaii and Japan. A Native Hawaiian healer reviews the shakras with him, calling them floors in “The Tower of Life”, a term first used by Sallie Nichols, in the book “Jung and Tarot”.
The fifth shakra, centered in the neck, is focused on pure inspiration and spirituality. I’ve been in that state a few times. Perhaps you have, too. The sixth, focused in the cerebrum, is called “Pure Light”, communion with the Spirit. It is no surprise to me, that my messages from the Spirit Realm have come either in dreams, or in waking visions, when I am not concerned with the business at hand.
The seventh shakra is not even in the body. It is in one’s aura, directly above the head, and features Pure Spirit, with no ego left. This, to me, is the meaning of the Zen teaching that nothingness is the highest state which one may attain. Being one with the Universe is its manifestation.
As I said earlier, most of us go back and forth, between the first four or five shakras. I’ve been blessed to have experienced #6, and I know many others who have, as well. To be in one of the higher states, most of the time, is fulfillment. To handle the lower urges, and get back to spiritual progress, is the norm for me, more and more often. That said, I think I can wait a while for Shakra #7. There are too many people about whom I care deeply.
The Road to 65, Mile 286: Flexible
September 9, 2015, Prescott- When I arrived at school, this morning, I had a feeling the day would be different. Thirty minutes later, I learned that my immediate charge would be absent today. After about fifteen minutes in the front office, it was decided I would assist the teachers’ clerk. So, my day was spent photocopying, collating and stapling. Much was accomplished in those areas. I don’t do well with sitting around idly.
Some people were amazed that I was doing this,but being flexible is one of the things that come with being the eldest of five children, growing up in a house that was originally meant for four people, and there were seven of us. Being flexible is one of the things that come with being an educator in a state that is only slowly coming to realize that the welfare of children is more important than tax breaks for private prisons, or perks for office holders. The first example is one I treasure. The second is one I value, but for the sake of those children, I wish it were not so.
Flexibility of mind is a definite challenge to ego. Without it, though, I would never have left alcohol behind, never have pursued, and entered, into wedlock, and certainly would not have settled down. Flexibility of mind, and of heart, is the ground floor of my salvation.
I think these things as we continue into another silly season of electoral politics. With Aviici, I am wont to say, “Wake me up when it’s all over”. That wouldn’t be flexible of me though, would it?
The Road to 65, Mile 285: Kombucha and Quixote
September 8, 2015, Prescott- I have a couple of pieces of starter for kombucha. It is a sort of fermented tea that, combined with organic, unrefined sugar, and mixed with the starter, will be a very strong digestive aid. Penny and I made it, around 2006-7, and used it for both of our abdominal well-being. I will do this again.
This, and milk-based kefir, were the topics of a Slow-Food Prescott gathering, this evening. Of course, there were a wealth of GMO-Free and organic dishes, as part of the festivities. Given the pressure that our U.S. House of Representatives, and various conservative judges, around the globe, are putting on us to force the public to buy Genetically-Modified products, I think we need to have more events like this, to safeguard our health. Someone asked, not long ago, if I would go to jail for my beliefs. This is one area where I would do so. No one tells me what to eat.
I heard on the radio that this year marks the 400th Anniversary of the publication of “Don Quixote de la Mancha”. Miguel de Cervantes wrote of the consequences of a belatedly examined life, and of how a man’s not living his dream, until late in life, leads to so many bouts of foolishness. Don Quixote’s idealization of the chivalrous life is not so different from the modern day fascination with Super Heroes. I was surprised, as an adolescent, when none of the Classics Illustrated comic books, which I relished, included a version of “Don Quixote”. I didn’t read the novel until my third year in university, and I read it in Spanish.
I wonder at times, whether all we do to counteract the power structure in this world is actually a tad quixotic. My heart, though, tells me “No, keep going. Our children deserve a better, less materialistic system.” So, onward I will tilt my lance.
The Road to 65, Mile 284: Treasured Hearts
September 7, 2015, Prescott-
Mild goes the day,
With grilled meats and light rain.
Friends’ hearts beat loudly,
From both near and far.
Some happy, others forlorn,
I treasure all, for none have I scorn.
The wish I have,
To be there for all,
Sits like a chimera,
Fleetingly, atop the wall.
The Road to 65, Mile 283: Grillin’
September 6, 2015, Prescott- One of the benefits of being semi-settled is, invitations to gatherings start to pile up. The three-day weekend has brought me to two enormous, well-stocked and well-attended barbecues, yesterday and today, with a third slated for tomorrow.
Last night’s gathering was a birthday party for a long-time friend, belated by two days, for the sake of holding it on the weekend.
Seasoned musicians kept the energy flowing, for nearly four hours.
This afternoon, after performing a spur-of-the-moment errand, I joined a much larger, community-wide barbecue, aimed at bringing in a wealth of non-perishable food for our county Food Bank. I noticed a sizable amount of provisions in the barrels, in addition to what i brought in.
Despite the threat of rain, we only got a few drops, and I had a pleasant visit with a few other New England “ex-pats”.
An article in today’s paper talked about somebody’s 1,000 Places to See Before You Die”. I’m peripatetic, but I can’t see going to that extent. Give me a plate of ” ‘cue” and pleasant company, and I’m set for a while.
Tomorrow will see me at yet another gathering. Yes, I had a TrimShake in the evening, then went to Planet Fitness and made room for the next round.
The Road to 65, Mile 282: Destiny
September 5, 2015, Prescott-
Pregnant with destruction, Madame Death lurks
Taking so many, in a single bound,
Young and old,
Rich and blameless,
Light and dark.
Pregnant with promise, Lady Life follows
Honest and tenacious,
Shaken, but certain,
Strong and persevering.
This is for my friends who mourn, and curse, and wait for a glimmer of hope.
I love you all, so much.
A Sagittarian Seeker 