"Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays"?

"Merry Christmas!” said my Jewish friend when he greeted me with a smile. “Merry Christmas,” I replied.  I asked him if it ever bothered him that nearly everyone greets with “Merry Christmas” during December.   “Not at all,” he told me.  “I mean,  I recognize that 90% of Americans are Christians.”

“What do you think about people saying ‘Happy Holidays,’” I asked.

My friend laughed. “When people say that, I ask them, ‘What holiday are you referring to?’ Most say nothing, but some say, well, it’s New Years too.”

It was refreshing that my Jewish friend was OK with the “Merry Christmas” greeting.  In fact, he liked it.  “I don’t expect the vast majority to conform to me,” he explained.

Fair enough.  Then why are we so afraid in our political correctness to say “Merry Christmas”?  Are we really worried that it might offend someone?  Yes, there are other holidays: the secular Kwanzaa invented by a Long Beach State College teacher for African Americans, New Years (though most Chinese celebrate not January 1 but the Chinese New Years which usually falls in early Februrary), pagans who simply celebrate the solstice, and the month of Ramadan which sometimes falls near December, but not often as it moves forward through the calendar.  

 On the radio, a Christian man told the radio host that the didn’t celebrate Christmas, that it was a lie. The host was shocked.  What is the lie, the host asked.  The man said that he didn’t like the tale of Santa Claus, and that Jesus wasn’t born on the winter solstice.  The host, in so many words, called the man an idiot. 

But the conversation brought back memories of my researching the roots of Christmas back in my teens, when I discovered that Christmas is essentially a pre-Christian holiday.  Initially, I found myself disenchanted with that social norm of Christmas celebrations.  If this isn’t really about the birth of Jesus, I wondered, why should I participate in this pagan practice.  But over the years, I have had a different point of view about how to regard this odd Christmas holiday which is really a mish-mash customs from all over the world from various times. 

First, a bit of history.  Yes, it is true that the so-called “pagans” observed the solstices and equinoxes as their high holy days. In fact, nearly all religions in the past did so.  “Pagan” originally referred to the country people who lived outside of Rome-proper, but gradually became a derogatory term for non-Christians.

We do not know when Jesus was born. The scriptures provide clues but no exact dates and no indication that this followers ever made a big deal about the birthday.  And who was Jesus?  He was a Jewish rabbi, probably an Essene, who observed the Jewish holy days.  His followers changed their holy day to Sunday, in part to attract the “sun worshippers,” and also to separate themselves from the Jewish Saturday Sabbath.   

Remember, early Christians were killed and tossed to the lions.  But by the 4^th Century, Constantine had a vision and declared Christianity the official religion of the kingdom.  He Christianized all the “pagan” holy days, which is how The birth of the Sun was turned into the Birth of the Son.  In fact, the observation of the winter solstice has been regarded with great reverence for as long as we can tell.  During this winter’s deep, the sun was in its lowest part of the sky as it rose each day.  Four days after the solstice, the rising sun appears to rise further north on the horizon – the sun has risen!  This astronomical event has long had great metaphysical and personal value to the millions of people who have observed and celebrated it for millenia.  

Though you may have many opinions about whether or not it was fair and square for the church to have stolen and renamed the pagan holy days, that does not make it inherently wrong.  In  fact, there is no inherent wrongness to it at al.  As with most things in life, its value is wholly up to us, to use the timing for spiritual upliftment and evolution.

The Year of "No Christmas"

When I was perhaps 10, my brothers and I were particularly bad and misbehaving and belligerent one autumn.  My mother gave us several warning and threats and a few “beatings” in her ceaseless attempt to get us to obey.  But I don’t know what was wrong with us that year.  It was as if we were afflicted by some unseen infection.  Or maybe it was what all teens go through when they believe they know more than their parents.  So my mother said, “Keep it up and there will be no Christmas this year.”  Of course, my mother didn’t control the calendar.  She just meant “no gifts.”  That threat did at first affect our behavior,  but then we’d go back to our nonfeasant and malfeasant ways.  There were numerous threats, as November rolled into December, but things didn’t substantially improve.

Now, I was at the age where I began to think about things, and the relative unfairness in the world, and the questioning of authority. But I also wondered why we should  receive gifts at Christmas.  By this time, I was aware that Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus at this time, and that it was primarily a religious holiday.  I just didn’t get the whole gift thing –not that I minded receiving.  But because I lacked an understanding of the whole picture, the idea of “no gifts”  didn’t seem that threatening to me.

Thinking back, our bad behaviour that year was likely the trickle-down defiance from our oldest brother.  David was never a defier, certainly not an open defier, but the defiance of Gilbert the eldest would have trickled down to Thomas, to Richard, to me.  We were not an ideal family, and I am sure I have suffered my entire life due to unnecessary defiance and the disrespect that I showed to my parents.  Did my parents deserve respect?  In retrospect, of course they did, though the question would have been irrelevant then – like the pot calling the kettle black.  

We were not saints, so who were we to point out hypocrisy in our parents?  Anyway, by mid-December, the word was out: No Christmas this year.  We were schizophrenic about this.  “Oh, we don’t care,” we sassed, but inwardly I believe we each felt a deep dismay at our own inability to live up to our household’s very simple standards.  I felt particularly dismayed that I had been no better, and that I was swayed along with the tide of my older brothers’ mob mentality.  No Christmas.  “She won’t follow through on it,” Tom told us with assurance.  But inwardly, I felt my mother had  to follow through, otherwise her word would mean little to us, and she’d gain little by “being nice.”  I don’t recall what my father had to say about this, but it wasn’t much.

So, sure enough, Christmas came, and we went glumly into the living room to a fire and the usual Christmas tree, but there were no gifts.  We went to church and we talked with our schoolmates. When they talked about what they got for Christmas, we just found ways to change the subject.  We had a quiet Christmas dinner.

One of my brothers told his friends that my mother was mean, but I never did that.  I knew we deserved nothing, and I felt a certain euphoric sense of justice in her actions, and I respected her more because of it. 

Interestingly, in certain ways, I felt closer to my mother after that, was more obedient because I simply felt better doing what was expected of me, and I never complained.  Despite a seeming lack, it was actually one of the best Christmas’ ever, where I received the most fitting possible “gift” – the ability to quickly experience that my choices and actions have consequences.

The story about my mean mother gradually got out into the neighborhood, and my mother once again became the topic of conversations, mostly criticizing my mother.  I always remained silent, trying to listen to both sides. But I only heard one side—no gifts – from those who truly lost the meaning of Christmas, whose sole focus for Christmas seemed to be the acquisition of things.  So I slowly was given a second “gift” by my mother’s action – a unique insight into the all-too-common mundanity of most people’s very narrow thinking.

On Gifting

Why give gifts we can't afford to people we don't like?

Another view of Holiday Gifting

“Have you done your shopping yet?,” an acquaintance asked.  I gasped, feeling the despair that descends upon me when I witness the scurry run-around that so many folks engage in during the Christmas season.  Giving is good, yes. Receiving  is good too.  
 

 Like the ancient native potlatch where tribal members tried to outdo each other in their givingness.  But have we moved too far from meaningful  giving?  Have we accepted the propaganda that the “Christmas shopping splurge” should somehow “save” the retail industry?  Have we lost our resistance?  Have we given in the fiction that it is socially necessary to buy lots of stuff (that we’d not buy otherwise) for people who we don’t particularly like, when we really can’t afford to do so?

The way to end the insanity is simply to end it.  End the pointless buying.

What are we celebrating, after all?  Santa Claus-who-brings-us-toys day?  The Winter Solstice?  The birth of the Sun?  The birth of the Son, Jesus?

Most American Christians say it is the latter.  So then why the gift splurge?  Some say this is because the three Magi brought gifts to the promised One.  The Magi gave symbolic gifts, nothing that was in any way useful to an infant.  They did not exchange gifts among themselves. 

Nor was this Jesus born on December 25.  Recall, if you will, that animals and shepherds were in the fields, and it was the time of a census that required much travelling.  It was definitely not in the dead of winter, as all historians agree.

Let’s get out our encyclopedias and learn  that the “birth of the Sun” celebrations were pre-Christian.  These so-called “pagan” traditions were part of the holy days of Mithraism and other pre-Christian religions.  Exchanging gifts was part of that tradition.

In the early days of the new cult of Christianity that arose from Judaism, there was the desire to “hide” the new Christian commemoration of the birth of Jesus when others were also celebrating the birth of the Sun.  Some credit the Roman Emperor Aurelian with this clever idea.  Eventually, when Christianity was the official religion of the empire in the 4^th century, no such hiding was necessary as nearly all the pagan holidays became Christianized.

Still, our pointless profligate buying and giving is a relatively modern invention of the advertising industry.  Gone are the days of making something to give to another – a cake, cookies, a wooden bowl, a pipe, a toy, a hand-written card.  Gone are the days of personally handing a thoughtfully-made or acquired object to a person, as both parties exchange the gift of their time, and Selves, to one another, as they examine the physical object.  Or is such a day gone?

It is only by our choice to be a lemming that we continue the mindless buy and gift command from our marketing masters.

I’m not particularly concerned that most of the modern Christmas symbols can be traced back to the pre-Christian days – the wreath, the tree, the yule log, December 25, the birth of a saviour at the time of least light, the cards, and yes, gifting.  What matters most is the level of thinking and thoughtfulness that we inject into our observation of what should be a High Holy Day.  “Buying stuff” is anathema to this day.  We don’t have to choose to be a part of the cattle drive at the local mall.  Rather, choose something else.

Plan to be with close friends.  Plan thoughtful songs to sing.  Plan special movies to watch – I never get tired of “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  Plan thoughtful readings about the meaning of the day.  And if you choose to give gifts, avoid the animalistic urge to wildly rip through the packagings of gift after gift.  Make each one special.  Tell the person why they were given the gift. Let them open it and examine it. Discuss how the gift will enhance their life.

I remember a scene in the book “Less Than Zero.”  It’s Christmas time and the author is at home when his father visits. The father is divorced from his mother, so he visits on holidays.  As he sits there on Christmas, he pulls out his checkbook and writes a check to his son.  The author – the son – lamented that his father didn’t take the time to at least write the check ahead of time, put it in an envelope, and include a note.  It was just done rather casual.  It was a classic “less than zero” moment.

In this time of least light, when the sun is about to start on the path to more light and longer days, when so many of us are scrambling at the malls for “good buys,” we can choose to eschew “less than zero,” and choose instead the Light.

GIVING THANKS TO THE AMERICAN INDIANS

It makes sense for all of us to give thanks to the American Indians on our national day of thanks. Let's briefly review some of the many contributions of the Native Americans.

The European immigrants were not treated to any sort of welfare or foreign aid package, in the way we practice such today with newcomers to the United States, or with foreign countries. The new settlers to America were helped in accord with the old Chinese axiom: "Give a man a fish and he eats for one day; teach him how to fish and he eats for life."

WILD FOODS

They taught the newcomers how to identify and use the native vegetation, such as wild berries (cranberry, crabapples, et al.), wild roots (Jerusalem artichoke, wild onions, et al.), wild gourds, wild leaves to make teas, wild herbs to make medicines, strange new foods from the sea (including marine life  and seaweeds), and such delicacies from nature as maple syrup;

HUNTING

They taught many methods of hunting and trapping North American game.

Of course, the bow was ubiquitous around the world, including North America. The natives' easily-portable bows and arrows were far more efficient in the dense Northeast coastal forests than the huge, heavy firearms the pilgrims had brought. Once the pilgrims ran out of their black powder, they quickly learned to make and use archery equip­ment.

The pilgrim pioneers watched closely and copied the natives' unique snare-making, deadfalls, blow gun use, throwing spears and knives and tomahawks, the canny use of poisonous plants to stun fish in ponds and lakes,

They also uses for those animals' skins and body-parts entirely.  For example, the stomachs and skins were used for making bags.  Or pouches.  Or drum heads.                 

 SHELTER

American Indians of the Northeast and Canada built log cabins and large lodges without metal axes. On hunting expeditions, these natives were well-skilled in building temporary shelters (such as snow shelters and lean-tos) that were both safe and warm.

FIRE

For starting fire, the natives practiced numerous methods, such as the bow and drill, the use of pitch and punks, and the carrying of small iron-rich rocks that they'd strike together to make sparks fly. The pilgrims gratefully resorted to such methods in severe conditions when they were unable to make use of their steels that they'd brought from the Old World.

FOOD STORAGE

In the past, people had to dry everything. Drying was the universal method of food storage.  Sometimes foods – such as meats and fish – were also smoked.  Typically, the meat would be sliced and laid on racks and dried in the sun, or a smoky fire would be built underneath.

Jerky –which you can now go to Trader Joes or any supermarket and buy – is a ancient method of meat drying that is now done in factories.  The term jerky is actually Charqui and it comes to us from South America.  Now you have all sorts of jerky in the stores –fish jerky, beef jerky, turkey jerkey….

Pemmican is also a Native method of food storage.  And pemmican is not a chocolate candy bar.  If you go to a backpacking store, there are some chocolate products called pemmican. Original pemmican was the dried meat – the jerky –which is then ground up.  It is put into an intestine – as you’d do when you make sausage – and melted fat from meat is poured over it.  You end up with something that is a high protein trail food, and lasts a good while without refrigeration.

USES OF WOOD

The natives made ingenious use of wood. From the birch tree, for example, they used the bark to write upon, as well as for making snow-glasses (to prevent glare), cups and eating utensils, baskets, and emergency shoes. Large pieces of the bark were made into light, easily portable canoes.

MEDICINE

When the Europeans' illness-remedies failed, they eagerly sought to learn the "medi­cine" systems practiced by the Indians' holy people. This included herbs, the sweat lodge, and a largely misunder­stood body of chants and rituals that "worked" although the pilgrims didn't comprehend why.

And though today's Western "religious establishment" is reluctant to admit it, those Indian "medicine" traditions made significant inroads into the Christianity-based religions brought here by the pilgrims, and survive to this day as an integral part of America's mainstream spiritual life. 

            Many of the native ways were scoffed at by traditional western thinking as superstitious or backward or primitive.  Yet, the traditional healing ceremonies of Native America contained many elements of Science, meaning that if the correct elements are present, healing occurs.

THE OLD WAYS

            I’VE shared a lot of specific details about Native Americans, and how their culture has enriched our culture today.

            There’s a term we often hear with older cultures, and especially with tribal cultures. The Old Ways. What are the Old Ways?  Does it refer simply to the ways that people did things in the past, when there was no other option?

            When some people think of Native American culture in general, all they think of is beads and feathers.  But the Old Ways is rather complex, and yet a complete state of mind and state of living.  I’d strongly recommend books such as Vine Deloria’s “God is Red,” and “Black Elk Speaks” for clues to some of these details.

            But briefly, the Old Ways are the traditions that keep societies strong, and together, and supportive. It includes a focus on family, focus on Home, respect for elders, respect for our surroundings, respect for sacred spots, cooperation, the ability to adapt, keeping your word, and more.

POLITICS

Great leaders and politicians came to us from the Native tradition, such people as Handsome Lake, Wovoka, Sequoyah, Chief Joseph, and Hiawatha and Deganawide, who forged the “Great Peace” and the Iroquois Confederacy.

            Reseach has shown that Benjamin Franklin and other founders were aware the Iroquois Confederacy and even copied some of the details from the oral constitution of the Iroquois Confederation in creating the U.S. Constitution and system of government.

THE EVER-REPEATING PATTERN

The newcomers took and used what was deemed worthwhile from the American indigenous people, and gave what they could in return. That sharing enabled the pilgrims to survive. But (sadly) as is always the case with human beings, once they've survived a near-death situation, and then grow strong and healthy and begin to accumulate wealth and live in comfort and safety, they "forget" those values that began it all.

DEATH & DECLINE

By the early 1800s, 80 percent of the American Indians had died from the European's smallpox, measles, venereal diseases, tuberculosis, influenza, and from his insatiable lust to move westward and take the Indians' lands.

Today, the American Indians, both on and off the reservations, have become our "forgotten minority." Povertousness, alcoholism, suicide, dependency, and unemployment have become the modus vivendi for these once self-sufficient, powerful, ingenious, independ­ent peoples.

GIVING THANKS

Of course, some of you will feel that I looking at the American Native tradition with rosy colored glasses and am overlooking the alcoholism, poverty, unemployment, etc., that plague the Native Americans, especially on reservations.  I am well aware of the full picture.  Yet, on this unique American holy day, shouldn’t we give more than a passing acknowledgment to the people from whom the early European pioneers learned so much? 

We should find ways to support those American Indians on and off reservations who are actively attempting to survive by means of organized self-sufficiency projects such as organic farming, crafts shops (to create jobs and salable products), solar energy projects (to make the reservation energy self-sufficient), et al. 

Giving thanks is good, always.  But let’s not just eat a turkey and congratulate ourselves that we are well-off.  Let’s find ways to giving a helping hand to those whose hand this nation once so eagerly took.

[Note: For details about the local WTI event on Thanksgiving Day, go to www.wtinc.info.]

Yom Kippur Thoughts

In high school, my best friend was Jewish, and when we were together, people often thought that we were brothers. Having been born into Catholicism, I knew little of Judaism.  But by my 40s, I learned that my father’ father was a Hungarian Jew, and converted to Catholicism when they came to the U.S. in 1906 in order to “fit in.” 

Perhaps that explains my ongoing desire to learn more about Judaism and its ancient practices.

We just experienced Rosh Hashana, The Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, where Jews seek to identify their misdeeds of the previous year, seek forgiveness, and make atonement for those sins.

It reminds me of Catholic Confession, whose efficacy is directly proportionate to the intensity of the feeling and desire of the confessor.

So, during the Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur week this year, I listened to a Jew and a Christian discuss the idea of forgiveness. The Jew stated that he must ask forgiveness directly (or via telephone) to the person offended, he must receive forgiveness, do restitution as necessary, and only after that could God forgive him. The Christian stated that, according to his beliefs, it was not necessary to go to the person offended, but that one need only ask forgiveness from God, or from God through the priest.

I would often debate matters of religious belief and dogma with my mother as well as our local priest.  My mother told me that all I needed was to look in the Bible and that I should quit pretending that I know more than the priest or the Bible.  I told her that I wasn’t trying to act as if I knew more than the priest, that I was only asking the priest questions, and rather than consult the Bible, I was simply consulting my own inner sense of rightness, and logic, and what seemed sensible. It led to many lively conversations and some enlightening moments.

Though all religions seems to be able to back up their ideas with tradition, or written verses, I’d have to go along with the Jews on this one, that it is always best to seek forgiveness directly from those you’ve wronged, and to make restitution directly to them.  Certainly this violates no code of ethics on any side, and by so doing, I would think that God would smile down on you.

My mother always told me that I think about things too much.  Maybe she was right, maybe not.  But it is good to ask questions, and to seek answers.  While I have never been big on the dogmas which arise from traditions, I have loved the origins of most religions.  It is why I became a Buddhist at age 14, and still continued some connection to various Christian churches.  I studied the Sufi sect of Islam, and I have studied Hinduism.  I find that there is value in all these traditions, when seen purely.  When asked my religion, my answer is very much like the answer that Gandhi would give: “I am a Christian, a Jew, a Buddhist, a Muslim, a Hindu.”  Properly understood, yes, it does make sense.

The El Prieto Bear

I’ve always liked the wildlife in the meadows, though it does mean that I have given up the idea of a food garden (except wild foods). Between the gophers, squirrels, and deer, nothing lasts long enough for me to harvest.  And the bird scene is incredible, with all the usuals, such as hawks, owls, jays, crows, ravens, woodpeckers, hummingbirds, the feral parrots, wrens, and many others.

I haven’t seen a bear in the yard for a few years. The first encounter was when one broke apart my compost bin – about 10 feet from my door -- to get to whatever yummy rotten food was inside,  and he left some prints on my sidewalk.  Once I went outside when a black bear was checking out the neighbor’s trash, and the bear ran off so quickly that I could hardly believe my eyes.

This morning I photographed these tracks down on the dirt road west of my home that leads into El Prieto Canyon.  I put my reading glasses next to the track so you can see how big it is.  I always figured that this was the path that the El Prieto bear takes into his canyon hideout, but I never saw good track til today.

Dylan vs. Beethoven

DYLAN VS. BEETHOVEN: A Lesson in Family Communication

[This is an edited chapter of a book I’ve been working on for some time, which consists of stories from childhood, approximately age 4 through 14.]

One Saturday, with no warning, Paul Martinez engaged my father in the relative value of pop vs. classical music.  This was probably around 1964 when Bob Dylan was the king of pop, and seemed to be the messenger of the “secret messages” to the younger generation.  All my older brothers could fairly accurately be called Dylan fans, if not Dylan worshippers.  We all seemed to regard listening to Dylan as a more meaningful spiritual experience than sitting through Mass at Saint Elizabeth’s.

No one remembers how it began, but it was a legendary conversation that lasted for hours.  My father’s argument was that the music and lyrics of Bob Dylan were of no lasting value and the young people were simply too ignorant to realize it yet.  Frank, my father, said that Dylan would be forgotten in a few years.  He compared Dylan to Beethoven and Bach, and other classical musicians, and explained that Dylan was not in any way at the level of the classical composers.  Paul wholeheartedly disagreed.

Their conversation began in the living room where Frank would sit in his easy reclining chair and watch TV.  Paul sat near him on the couch.  Everyone in the household only became aware of their conversation when we realized they were still at it after about an hour.  As the conversation’s volume level would rise from time to time, we could all hear what they were saying:  “Of course you can put Dylan in Beethoven’s category,” said Paul in his deep and sincere voice. “Have you actually ever listened to what he’s saying in his songs?”

            “He just cackles,” said Frank, “and you really can’t even make out his words most of the time.  And I’m not even talking about the words.  And it’s only important, as you call it, if you take an hour to explain it all to me.  I don’t need any explanation to know that Bach’s music really is good,” said Frank as Paul patiently waited his turn in this lively exchange.

            “Well, I’m not saying that Dylan and Bach and the other classicals can be compared directly. Obviously, they can’t,” said Paul, giving some ground to Frank. “But there is obviously something that millions of people are responding to that you aren’t seeing – or hearing.  Dylan is not just music;  he is also the message.  So we’ve got to examine some of the words and see what he’s really saying.”

            This went on, back and forth, quiet and loud, for another hour.  They opened up the record player and began playing select songs for the other to listen to.

             We prepared the usual Saturday night dinner – something like hotdogs and baked beans and salad and some other vegetables.  We took a plate into Frank and Paul, and we didn’t expect them to come into the kitchen as their debate entered the third hour.

            We heard silence and then the lyrics of Dylan.  Sad Eyed Lady of the Low lands.  Hey Mr. Tambourine Man.  Blowing in the Wind.  The Times They Are A Changing.    After each short selection, there would be a brief silence, presumably as Paul removed the needle, and then they would talk about it.  We couldn’t hear all the details. Then there would be a round of some of the classical musicians’ work, a silence, and commentary by Frank. 

            We cleared the table and washed the dishes, and I set up the chess board and began a game with a neighbor who dropped by.  Our game lasted nearly an hour, and Robert won. The Dylan-Classical debate continued.

            And then, all of a sudden, Frank and Paul were standing in the kitchen doorway, shaking hands as Paul had to depart.  My brother David hadn’t said much the whole night, but he never did.  

            It was late and Paul had to go home and so it was over.  A stalemate, we presumed.  No clear winner, each side having done their best to promote their own arguments to win over the other.  But both Paul and Frank were unbudgeable and they each stuck to their guns.

            For the rest of us, the conversation about the conversation had just begun. 

            “Why doesn’t he ever have meaningful conversations with us,” David asked to no one in particular.  “He engaged with Paul when Paul challenged, but shouldn’t he take it upon himself to engage us,” asked David.  No one really cared, but it was clear in the conversation about the conversation that David didn’t really care about whose music was best.  To David, the conversation was an example of a father that didn’t take adequate interest in his own children, but would take extra time and supreme effort in a very engaging discussion – but not with David. 

            I inwardly agreed with David, but I didn’t say anything.  In some very primal way, I am sure that I longed to have a father who took an interest in me, who talked to me, who taught me things, who engaged me in his activities for our mutual benefit.  I am sure that David had a good point that Frank should do these sorts of things, but I was not bitter about the fact that he did not do so.

            The rest of us had probably long ago accepted Frank for what and who he was.  To me, Frank was neither good nor bad, right nor wrong – he simply was my father, doing what he did in his patterns of somewhat predictable behavior. But to David, Frank’s conversation was like a slap in the face, saying that he can take the time with a friend of the family, but would not take the time with his own children.  At least that’s how I took David’s reaction.

            Depending on who you asked during the various conversations about the conversation in the weeks and months that followed, the entire event was amusing, meaningless, interesting, a waste of time, insightful, and/or demonstrated that Frank was capable of in-depth abstract thought and could maintain an intellectual conversation and hold his own for hours. 

Though I generally disagreed with Frank’s premise, his performance definitely boosted my image of him.  And likewise my image of Paul was greatly enlarged.  Here was a peer of my brother who could debate with intensity and authority, and try to convince my father of a point of view which I held, but felt totally unable to communicate in any meaningful way. 

Survival Pack followup

On the Dirttime Forum, we had a discussion about "bug out bags" and what to carry if you ever had to evacuate your home.  This topic resulted in many comments, and some controversy.  Please check out the Forum at www.Dirttime.com, and also look at the commentary under Web Articles.

Again, everything you need is at home.  Why wander the streets?  BUT, if there is no choice, then you should carry what you know you'll need.  But what do you need?  There is no one answer, since your situation, location, time of year, and many other factors all come into play.

See what others say on the Dirttime Forum, and let me know if you have questions.

What if you had to evacuate?

 

During one of my Pasadena City College survival classes, a student asked me to list the items that should be carried in an evacuation bag, also known as the “bugout bag.”  In other words, if she had to immediately leave her home for some reason, what should her survival bag contain.  Of course, this led to a big portion of that evening’s discussion.

“First,” I responded, “what scenario are we talking about?” The student was thinking of a serious emergency where even a car wouldn’t be useful, where you’d have to evacuate on foot.

So my first order was to convey the fact that one would rarely choose to leave one’s home – where everything is familiar and where you know everyone in the neighborhood – unless you absolutely had no other choice. 

“You would rarely want to choose to leave your home and randomly wander the streets after an emergency,” I replied, “because you are now entering into the chaos and randomness of street mobs and possible violence.”  I tried to impress upon the class how dangerous it often is to wander on foot in the aftermath of a major disaster – whether it be an earthquake, or the results of war, or flooding.

And though the effects of nature can be devastating, the fear and chaos that will possess other people could be your greatest threat.

OK, we established that wandering around may not be your best choice but if you have no choice, then what should you carry?

Before I tried to answer that question, I asked all the students, “If there was an emergency tonight after you get home and you had to evacuate, where would you go?  And why would you go there?”  Most had no idea where to do, and in all probability, would follow crowds to some likely safe place, or would simply follow the orders of whomever happened to be giving orders. 

I urged each student to obtain topographical maps of their local area and to begin to learn about their local environment.  Find out where there are sources of water, reservoirs, pools, train lines, etc.  In a disaster, your knowledge is far more important than your stuff.  Next, I urged each student to get involved in their local Neighborhood Watch, and to do the CERT trainings, and Red Cross emergency first aid.  In other words, we need to realize the fact that other people in our community, and our relationships with them, is a far greater “survival tool” than merely having a pack with some knick-knacks in it.

Most people would be surprised to learn the level of preparedness that already occurs in most cities, and within various agencies such as the Red Cross, Police and Sheriff departments, and City Hall.  It is to each of our advantage to get to know what has already been planned in our own towns.

Everyone was getting the picture.  Get to know your town, your geography, and get to know who’s who in your town, and learn about systems that have already been established in the event of emergencies. Of course you must still do your own home preparedness, but just don’t do it in a vacuum.

But the student persisted.  She still wanted to know what to carry. So I polled the students who’d already been in my class for several weeks. What should one carry in a survival pack?   Someone said a knife. Yes, I wrote that on the board.  You should carry some sort of useful knife that you’re comfortable with, like a Swiss Army knife, a Leatherman, and so on. Someone suggested that a bow and drill be carried for fire making. No, I said. We learn how to make fire with those primitive methods so we can do it when there is nothing else.  You must have fire, but keep it simple. Carry a Bic or a magnesium fire starter. Water.  Yes, you need it, and should carry at least a quart container and a water purifier. And you need to know where to find water.  And we continued this way – first aid kit, small flash light, etc. It was more important to get people to consider their individual needs than it was for me to list things that someone else thinks are important.

Survival can be deadly serious, but it can be a very enjoyable pursuit along the way.  Learn what you can little by little, but apply your knowledge as you go. That way, your skills are useful and your confidence level is increased.  It is never sufficient to say “I saw that on YouTube” and think that you know what it’s all about.

For some idea of what you might carry, look at Francisco Loaiza’s blog spot, where he describes 30 essential items that he recommends to his Boy Scouts.

http://loaizas.blogspot.com/2010/03/franks-30-essential-items-for-hiking-or.html.

For more ideas of what to consider in a kit, you should check out John McCann’s “Build the Perfect Survival Kit,” as well as my own “How to Survive Anywhere.”

Useful Landscaping

One of the themes of our “Extreme Simplicity” book was that anyone on any suburban plot of land can be a producer, producing not just some food, medicine, and energy, but also producing a good and uplifting atmosphere for people and wildlife.  This theme of grow-what-you-need was also continued in my more-recent “Self-Sufficient Home” book. We are seeing that more and more people are getting this message as they are removing lawns and putting in gardens, herbs, and native plants instead.

We recently did a Dirttime video on the subject of useful trees and bushes in your backyard. 

(If you’re unfamiliar with Dirttime, go to www.Dirttime.com and check out our forum and videos.)

In one of the recent videos, Alan Halcon and I discussed the fact that anyone with a landscaped yard is spending time, water, and money to keep alive a variety of plants.  Our position is that each of us should be a part of the solution to our planetary woes, and one way to do that is to grow some of the things we need. 

During the recent Dirttime-Youtube video, we shared several plants that grow in my yard.  Each one is drought tolerant, useful in some way, requires very little care, and is attractive as a landscaping plant.

PINEAPPLE GUAVA

Pineapple guava are already frequently planted as ornamentals, though most of the fruit is just left to rot. These flowers attract bees, and the granular fruits are great eaten as-is. The plants require very little care.  I have seen them in old homesteads in the Angeles National Forest where they have not been tended for over 60 years.

LOQUAT

A loquat is not a citrus.  It has a large leaf, and is one of the first fruit trees to produce.  The fruit is golden colored with a large brown seed.  They are very easy to grow with a seed, and again requires no maintenance.

LEMON VERBENA

Lemon verbena is a drought-tolerant perennial herb which produces fragrant elongated leaves.  Though not a food, it can be used to season fish and other foods, and to make “lemonade.”
 

BAY

The California bay tree is a native that grows along streams in the wild.  It is easy grown from a seed, and is an easy-to-care-for evergreen tree. The leaves are used for tea and seasoning in Italian cooking.  The leaves are also put into cupboards to repel bugs.  The nuts in the fall are also edible, once roasted.  Additionally, the long branches of bay can be cut and made into bows.  It is one of the preferred local woods for bows.

GERANIUM

My mother grew geraniums because they required no care, were drought-tolerant, and produced colorful flowers. Get the fragrant varieties that can be made into teas.

SOCIETY GARLIC

Society garlic has become very popular in urban landscaping. I’ve seen it around the Rose Bowl and in the little strips around strip malls.  It looks like a flat-leaved onion, and produces a lavendar flower.  It grows easily and spreads quickly.  I have grown them for years, and our family often added the leaves to soups, stews, salads, and egg dishes.

ALOE

Aloe vera is another drought tolerant plant that is all-too-easy to grow.  Plant one and soon you’ll have a dozen.  They are great for cactus bed or borders, and they produce a flower spike once a year.  The fresh gel of the aloe is excellent for poison oak rashes, burns, cuts, sunburns, and many skin conditions.  

These are just a few examples of how we can all be producers and provide some of our daily needs with the flora just outside the door.

The Study of Wild Foods

Seeking the Path of Practical Ecology 

During nearly every weekend for the past 30+ years, I have been out on the trail, teaching students of all ages how to identity edible wild plants and how to use them for food.  On a recent Saturday, we were exploring a section of Pasadena’s Arroyo Seco.  Our class carefully collected bits of lamb’s quarter, wild radish, chickweed, and hedge mustard which we turned into a salad.  We also mixed the flower heads of wild buckwheat with wheat flour and made biscuits. From the oak trees, we collected and processed the acorns, and eventually made acorn pancakes.

I was only a teenager when  I was wondering what I should be doing with my life, and wondering how local indigenous cultures lived.  So I studied botany in high school and college, and understudied with Dr. Leonid Enari at the L.A. County Arboretum. I actively studied mycology with the Los Angeles Mycological Association for years.

I always felt that the knowledge of ethnobotany was a major key to understanding how native cultures survived, and it’s also a key to understanding what we should all be doing today.  This is why I am not a proponent of front lawns.  I prefer to grow fruit trees, vegetables, and wild plants in the front lawn area, so that little patch of green is productive and healthful.  I share the details of what we did with our front lawn (and other ways of “living lightly in the city”)  in the book that Dolores and I  authored, “Extreme Simplicity: Homesteading in the City.”  [You can get it on Amazon]

LEARNING ABOUT WILD FOODS

The best way to learn about wild plants is to see them first-hand, in the field, with an expert. Never eat a wild plant that you haven’t positively identified, and remember that there are no shortcuts.  

So what wild foods are available in our yards and fields? 

Recently, during our Wild Food walks, we have been collecting the following for their salads and cooked dishes:  Curly dock, watercress, lamb’s quarter, mustard, wild radish, nettle, nasturtium, and mallow.  Soon we’ll be collecting purslane. Most of these can be prepared raw or cooked, and many are now finding their way into local farmers markets. 

One of  my favorite wild foods is the fruit of the carob tree. There are tens of thousands of carob trees in the Southland, and the ripe brown fruits can be simply wiped clean and eaten. This is the perfect survival food.  It is rich in calcium and B vitamins, it tastes good, you don’t have to cook it, and it lasts for years. 

The Department of Agriculture tells us that some of the most nutritious plants are wild ones.  Dandelion is richer in beta-carotene than carrots.  Purslane is the richest plant source of Omega-3 fatty acids.  Curly dock is one of the richest sources of vitamin A.  Lambs quarter, so common in the urban areas, is a spinach relative that is arguably nature’s best mineral tablet.  Using wild food is not only a way to prepare for the emergencies, but it’s also a way to create free and nutritious meals.

          

Recent WILD FOOD COOKING WORKSHOP Menu

SALAD “Wood Stump Salad”
Salad consisted of equal parts chickweed, wild radish, hedge mustard, and one tomato.  Trader Joe’s Italian dressing

SOUP “Screaming at the Dawn”

Finely chopped greens of wild radish, hedge mustard, mallow, with quinoa seed, were cooked in miso broth.

GREENS “Viking Wake-Me-Up”

Only tender tops of nettles were collected, and they were boiled with no seasoning. They were delicious, like buttered greens. 

  

EGG DISH “Return to Childhood”

In a cast iron skillet, we cooked wild radish and lambs quarter greens until they were nearly done. Then we added eggs, and cooked like an omelette.

ACORN:   “Tongva Memories”

Processed acorn flour (with tannic acid removed), mixed half and half with wheat flour.  The flour was then formed into small loaves and cooked on soapstone slab.

  

On Survival Skills

I’ve had several conversations recently with friends and associates about the current thinking on “survival” and self-reliance issues.  Some folks are interested in surviving in the woods with next to nothing.  Some are just interested in taking care of themselves in an emergency.

I had to think back to my earliest interests, where I wanted to go backpacking and carry as little weight as possible. I found an answer by studying the ethnobotany of the local indigenous people, and have studied this fascinating field ever since. I was also studying the methods of modern agriculture, post-green revolution, and its effects on the soil and nutrition.  I also studied how food is stored, processed, and transported in our economic system.  The complexity was somewhat alarming to my teenage mind, and I oft wondered how food ever gets to anyone’s table.  I could see many scenarios where our accepted normal way of life could be easily disrupted.

In a nutshell, that is what put me on the path I’m on today.

I recently had a short meeting with the founder of an organization devoted exclusively to the study and education of survival in all aspect.  Richard White, with his military background, was so intent on this focus that he began regular study groups in the 1960s called the Noah Seminars, where the intent was to share the facts of our world situation and to work to find solutions that could actually be put into practice. 

When reading some of the minutes of those early meetings, they concerned themselves with wilderness survival and physical survival, but their concern was much broader than that. They focused on verifying the geologic and ecological changes in the world, both those man-made and natural. They looked at the economic issue that were even then threatening to undermine our security in the U.S. They examined the health of the individual, the cities, and our poor methods of communication. And perhaps most importantly, they examined how our moral, ethical, and spiritual weaknesses were threats to our survival.

Each of these areas has since been the subject of many books – perhaps hundreds in some cases. 

My meetings with members of the Noah Seminars, and the non-profit that grew out of it [WTI, go to www.wtinc.info], had an increasingly greater influence on the way that I perceived the world, and the solutions that were both practical and right to pursue.

In fact, to this day, I feel that many of the so-called “survival schools” and survival ideologies are sorely lacking because they focus very narrowly on one very limited aspect of that vast spectrum of what is meant by “survival.”

During my recent brief meeting with founder White, he shared that part of his original stimulus was the fact that the U.S.S.R. had plans to bomb those parts of Los Angeles County where we lived.  Local targets included the nearby aerospace facilities, the communication towers on Mount Wilson, and other strategic targets.  Since he felt then that there was a significant possibility of such a bombing actually occurring, he explained to his students that such an event would mean that you simply couldn’t go to the local store or fast food place for lunch.  The study of wild foods became mandatory, as well as some of the skills of hunting and food procurement.  Today, it has become somewhat “hip and cool” to grow only foods in one’s yard, rather than lawns and ornamentals.  This is a good sign.

Physical fitness was also stressed, since in the event of a bombing scenario, one might have no choice but to evacuate.  That would mean a few days, or longer, of evacuating on foot, carrying all of your needed gear, and folks who were excessively overwe ight or out of shape simply wouldn’t be able to do this.

Another part of the thinking was that, assuming such a scenario actually happened, “law and order” would be non-existent, and various gangs would exert control and authority.  It would be essential to be able to defend oneself and one’s family.  Firearms and martial arts were essential.

These are just a few of the many ways in which we approached survival-thinking and preparedness.  Through non-sectarian spiritual studies, we also explored how our honesty and dishonesty can affect the situation we find ourselves in.  In fact, we studied many of the precepts of all major religions as a way to find those higher “survival tools” of right living that could only serve us well.  These continue to be included in many of the classes and writing that I conduct, as well as in all the classes that WTI  conducts.

Of course, we are not living in the same world situation as we were in the 1960s.  Some things are better, some are worse.  Things always change, and part of a good survival-strategy is to stay abreast of the news, understanding how the political situation can affect us locally and personally.

It is still my belief that the Golden Rule is the best policy, and that the world would be transformed if we all practiced that. Unfortunately, we must recognize that most folks do NOT practice that simple precept, which is why the world is the way it is.  Still, by awareness of the full scope of survival, and by attempting to develop in all these areas, we become fuller human beings.  We become part of the solution.  Our thinking on survival should not be simply about my own personal well-being, but should include our concern and compassion for everyone.

As always, I invite your comments and questions, and welcome you to attend any of the classes we conduct. 

See our Schedule at www.ChristopherNyerges.com, or write to School of Self-reliance, Box 41834, Eagle Rock, CA 90041.

Interview on Czech Television

Recently, I was interview by a journalist from the Czech Republic who saw my appearance on the National Geographic’s “Doomsday Preppers” show.  He wanted to learn about some of the practical skills that I teach to prepare individuals for emergencies and disasters, such as the identification of wild foods, making fire, and methods of being more self-reliant in the home.  I presented all these skills as positive ways to enhance one’s daily life and to improve one’s survival quotient without a focus on fear or panic.

As we were finishing, he asked me something to the effect of  “What was your worst and most painful experience?”  I had to think a minute, and I recalled why I got interested in survival skills in the first place.

The very beginning of my studies involved agriculture (all my mother’s brothers were farmers), and the claim that the U.S. feeds the world.  I can recall the various frightened predictions of famine in the U.S. in the 1970s, based upon the fact that way we deal with land management was worse in the 1970s than it was in the 1930s which led to the Dust Bowl. 

I began to study botany and wild foods partly because I was worried about the larger conditions which might impact myself and my family.  This dovetailed well with my interest in Native American living skills, where the average person knew all the uses of every plant that grew in your area.  The idea of rekindling those bygone skills appealed to me.  If I had to, I wanted to be able to find my food, medicine, tools, weapons, etc., from what nature has provided.

I told the reporter, Michal Kubal of Ceska Televize, that I have gone into the mountains many times with no food, and enjoyed doing it.  But, I told Kubal, my primary goal has been to avoid pain and discomfort and untimely death in the first place.  I’ve enjoyed traveling into the wilderness and knowing that I could take care of myself.  But my motivating interest was the survival of my society, and my country, and the sustainability of the systems that we all depend upon.

Thus, any knowledge of self-reliance and survival builds strength into the community.  Individuals who are knowledgeable and trained in survival tend not to have a victim mentality and tend to be a part of the solution.  That has been my goal, and what I attempt to teach.

The various uses of wild foods that I collected and ate while on a short walk with Michal Kubal were the very foods I’d eat if there were no stores to go to, for whatever reason.  My simple salad consisted of plants that were then in season: wild radish leaves, mustard flowers, lambs quarters, curly dock leaves and some amaranth leaves. All these plants would make a delicious stew if simmered slowly in a miso broth.

I also showed the reporter the many hand-operated tools that would allow life to continue if there was no electricity. In fact, the kitchen tools I showed Kubal were taken from my own kitchen, things like hand-operated can opener, juicer, coffee grinder, grater, etc.  Though I don’t have anything against good electrical kitchen appliance, I have experienced enough black-outs to know that the hand-tools will never go out of style.

We also looked at some of the very simple and inexpensive tools that are commonly available to provide electricity from the sun, which were lamps, radios, battery chargers, etc. 

I don’t know when my segment on Czech Television will air, but I will post it on my website if possible.  My short interview reminded me that these skills are direly needed in a society that is always growing larger, in which we are increasingly dependent on others for everything.  The simple solutions to any disruptions to our society are the focus of my classes, the schedule of which you can see at www.ChristopherNyerges.com

The Power of Words

Edgar Allan Poe wrote a unique piece called “The Power of Words.”  It’s wholly available on-line, and I recommend you read it.  I found it compelling, and it reminded me of so much that has been said about “the Word.” 

The opening line in the Bible is “In the beginning was the Word,” though I have heard other translations into English.  Still, there is great emphasis on “the word.”

My father used to say that a man is only as good as his word, referring to being honest and honorable.  Don’t promise to do something if you cannot do it.  But if you say you will, do everything in  your power to keep your word. 

There is also that term “intercourse” which can also refer to two people talking. Isn’t that interesting?  The two creative faculties of the human are regarded as the sexual intercourse, as well as the use of the spoken word.

Words have power, and most of us are out of touch with that power. 

I have spent some time with the Oxford English Dictionary some years ago, learning that there are specific meanings of words that are completely lost today, and only by exploring the derivations of these words can you find it original meaning. There are also the special and archaic meanings, which can only add depth and clarity to our conversations.

The word is something very special and dare I say “magical.”  Because we “create” all the time – either intentionally or (more commonly) ignorantly – we should always refine our word usage.

Another interesting tidbit: As children we learn to draw the letters and to spell.  And somewhere in grammar school, the teachers laugh as they tell us that witches can cast spells. So there it is.  Spell and casting spells. Are we not “casting spells” and creating by our word use?

There is also the hidden side of language, where the words are telling us something, but the meanings are hidden in plain view.  The walls of the liquor stores say “Spirits sold here,” and the problem is, you never know what those spirits will do when  they enter your body.

Another intriguing topic is the English Kaballah, which I will address later.  I’d love to hear your comments.

Anti-Profanity Law

Residents in Middleborough, Massachusetts voted Monday night, with a 183 to 50 majority, to approve a proposal from the police chief to impose a $20 fine on public profanity.


According to the news reports, “Officials insist the proposal was not intended to censor casual or private conversations, but instead to crack down on loud, profanity-laden language used by teens and other young people in the downtown area and public parks.”

Duphily, who runs an auto parts store, is among the downtown merchants who wanted take a stand against the kind of swearing that can make customers uncomfortable.

"They'll sit on the bench and yell back and forth to each other with the foulest language. It's just so inappropriate," she said.

The measure could raise questions about First Amendment rights, but state law does allow towns to enforce local laws that give police the power to arrest anyone who "addresses another person with profane or obscene language" in a public place.

Matthew Segal, legal director for the American Civil Liberties Union of Massachusetts, said the U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that the government cannot prohibit public speech just because it contains profanity.

What do you think?

When it comes to passing laws over behaviour, education and example are always better than new laws. But sometimes a law is needed.

Just listen anywhere these days and you’ll hear the “f” word spoken very casually. I have often politely told people to not talk that way around me, and most have abided by my request.

I remember what Larry Schaffer used to say about people who swore excessively. “It is a sign of low intelligence,” he would comment, and I agree. Compare it to how Shakespeare could insult a person (if he so desired) simply by his wit and mastery of the language, not simply by reverting to foul language.

And then there is the issue that laws can’t directly deal with. What do you do to your own very atmosphere, your spiritual essence, when you bathe yourself with such language? Is it uplifting? Is it degrading? If you care about the spiritual integrity of your fellow man (rather than the fact that their language bothers you), you will speak up with strength and love. Still, do not expect to be thanked for your selfless service.

Memorial Day 1998

[Note: The full version of this story is found in Nyerges' "Til Death Do Us Part?" book, available from Store at www.ChristopherNyerges.com.]


It was Memorial Day 1998, and I had scheduled to conduct a wild food outing at Pasadena’s Hahamongna Watershed Park. Since it was Memorial Day, my topic for a short discussion at the end of the outing was “death.”

I have always liked the grandeur and openness of this park. When I grew up, this was a short bicycle ride away, and I regarded it as my extended back yard.

Among the half-dozen participants who showed up for the outing was Martin Kruse, a bearded, burly bear of a man who looked like he’d be more at home in the 19th century. He introduced himself and told me that he’d long wanted to meet me, that we both wrote for many of the same publications and had many friends in common, such as Ron Hood. Martin and I chatted as the other outing participants listened, and he told me about his work with archery and primitive bow-making.

We walked down in the flat area of the large expanse of the park, where the wet mud had hardened, capturing countless animal tracks. Martin told us how to differentiate between coyote and dog tracks. He identified crow and other birds, showed us how to recognize the tracks of squirrel and rabbit. He’d obviously done a lot of tracking during his time hunting with a bow.

When we saw the deer tracks, Martin showed us how the deer’s hind foot had stepped into its own track just laid by its front foot. Martin said that only the female walks this way, that the male’s gait is different. He told us that the size of the hoof print meant it was a female deer about a year and a half old. I could tell that Martin enjoyed telling us all about the track.

After walking into the middle depths of the wash, we headed back to the picnic area, with me leading.
Within seconds, someone in the rear called out. Martin had fallen. I first thought it was a joke, and ran to him. It was no joke. His face already looked purple. The man who had been walking with him said he’d not tripped -- he just fell. I tried to rouse him, but it was quickly obvious that he was “out.”

Since I was the only one who knew the area -- I ran to a phone to call 911. Within 10 minutes, before I even got back to the group and Martin’s flat body -- paramedics from the City of Pasadena were on the scene, attempting to revive him. They carried him into the ambulance and took him away.

We discussed whether we thought Martin would revive or not. The paramedics had been fairly tight-lipped. Still, we all knew it was serious. So there we stood in the cool afternoon breeze, contemplating death in the most sobering manner possible. I explained to everyone my death lesson -- which hardly seemed appropriate now.

Someone had just died in our midst. We had to deal with it. We talked about how important it is to live each moment with intent, with joy, with soberness. We talked about how Martin may have wanted to say things to those he loved, but no longer could

Each person commented how “coincidental” it was that the lecture topic that I’d chosen for the day, and listed on the schedule, was “Death.” We kept reflecting on Martin. At that moment, none of us knew yet that Martin would not recover, that he had in fact died, and that he died in a place he loved. Nor had we known that Martin had a heart pacer, and an artery to his heart that was narrow. We were aware that he’d had surgery -- probably to the heart -- because we opened his shirt and saw the scar.

What had really brought Martin there on that day? I felt goose bumps at first, thinking that on some level he wanted to be with me, enjoying the natural world, meeting as two souls in the place he loved, near the old Indian burial ground, on his final day.

A German woman who’d been on the outing, Walti, told me that we should not feel sad. “It was quick,” she told me later. “What better place to die.” I could not help but agree with her.

Though I barely knew him, I felt closer to him in death.

Of course, I told Dolores about this when I got home. In fact, it was not until late that night that I learned the name of who had died on my outing. Yes, he’d told me his name when he arrived, but so did a dozen other people who’d I’d just met that day. By calling around to the fire department and to the hospital, I learned Martin’s identity, and I managed to figure out his family phone number through process of elimination in my phone log.

A few days later, Dolores and I and a few others were discussing this incident, and wondering about the series of choices that brought Martin to me on his last day.

Dolores seemed very thoughtful about all this, and said that possibly Martin’s Doer (his spiritual Self) knew that his body was going to die. Coming to my outdoor outing brought him into contact with my Doer, my spiritual Self, which could have been a final uplifting act, whether or not each of us realized it.

Dolores was never one who engaged in flattery, and she always kept me humble. She knew that we were not perfect and that we had a long way to go. Yet, we continued to work at and struggle on the Spiritual Path of perfection and evolution. It was always “fall down seven times, get up eight times.” In our perspective of a morally-bankrupt, and spiritually dark world, we did feel that we (including our “spiritual family”) represented a light in the darkness. Yes, often a flickering, barely noticeable light, but a light nevertheless. It is to that Light that Dolores believed Martin was coming to, and it was with that desire that he took his final breath. And that was good for Martin.