My Love Letter to America

10

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.

Herbal Masks and Regaining Steam

2

November 5, 2020-

I wore a different sort of mask, this evening.

An herbal mask sat on my face,

for twenty minutes,

with the idea that it could be regenerative.

I forewent my usual after work nap,

with the idea that I will sleep

more deeply through the night.

The fatigue left me a bit short of words

during the introduction segment

of the four-day series

of spiritual trainings

which began this evening.

Yet, as Thomas Sowell once wrote,

everything is a trade-off.

I made it through the intro,

and absorbed healing energy,

which has given me

the second wind needed to

write this.

A Higher Decibel Level

4

April 23, 2020-

I joined a small talking circle, as part of a weekly class on the subject.  One of the members began talking.  His talk led him from one painful episode of his past to another.  When he reached the end of his often tearful recounting-and expressed gratitude for the place his journey had brought him,  we were all  awestruck, and humbled.

The customary rule of a talking circle is that everyone gets a chance to speak.  With three minutes left, before we were brought back into the Great Circle, the remaining three of us each managed to make a meaningful introduction of ourselves.  It was not a hard thing to do.

These are far from normal times.  The task of those involved in imparting healing energy is, more than ever, to do so one soul at a time.  This was an intense twenty minutes, and I believe it made all the difference in the world, to someone who had likely not been really heard, for a good long time.

He spoke softly, but his story reached crescendo levels.