Most of my life has been spent seeking answers to life’s greater questions: who are we, where are we going, how will we get there? The eternal truths have always seemed to be embedded within various religions, and I have spent much time learning from the teachings of Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus and Jews. I even picked up a thing or two from various pagan friends, voodoo witch doctors and Native Americans.
I have chanted, meditated, prayed and sweat in sweat lodges. I have even traveled to far off destinations to engage in some of these activities.
In the midst of all this seeking, I learned something very quickly: before you throw yourself into the pool of sacrifice hoping for an answer, send the Kool Aid off to the lab for testing.
Here are a few ways to tell if the juice you’re drinking isn’t good for you.
1. How much money did you have to pay for this? Anything beyond helping share expenses for the rent or bringing a plate of food is unconscionable. Charging three digits is outrageous, and anything in the thousands is downright criminal. Spirit is free, no matter what cloak it wears.
2. If someone tells you that they know a secret they will share with you they are lying. The sad fact is that there may be guidelines for living right (don’t kill each other, be nice, we know them all by now) but there is no ultimate secret that will provide the keys to the kingdom. Each person has been given the task to unlock their own secret within. Yes, sorry to tell you, this is not a one size fits all sort of thing. Dig down deep and figure out your own secret.
3. As soon as a teacher says you must do something in order to grow, ask why. Because frankly, you do not have to do anything you do not want to do. Yes, there are all sorts of things we must do in order to facilitate our spiritual growth, but we usually know what these things are and they do not involve potential physical harm. I remember being in a workshop once where a teacher told us we all had to sob in order to release toxins or whatever was holding us back in life. We were not allowed to simply cry, that was not enough of a release. Well, I was never very good at following directions, so I guess those toxins are still floating around my system somewhere. Maybe I’ll dig them up, dust them off and ship them right out to the spiritual leaders who are poisoning people.
And finally, here is the most important thing I have to share with you. Because really, this is what it is all about.
4. DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN INDIGENOUS TRADITIONS WITH A NON INDIGENOUS LEADER. It is a violation of a culture for one to learn a tradition, teach it to others and make a profit by doing so. Would you attend a Catholic church if the priest leading the mass was a non-ordained Australian Aborigine? No, you would be offended that there was no priest. Would you allow yourself to be baptized by a Rabbi? So why would anyone attend a sweat lodge run by a non-Native, egotistical, self-proclaimed teacher who charges thousands of dollars? (Refer to #1 for a refresher on the money issue).
Seeking spiritual enlightenment is a way of life for many. But do not allow your questioning nature to open the door for scam artists. Beware of anything that appeals to the ego or is coming from the ego. It takes much patience to discern truth, but in the long run you may just be able to avoid drinking the Kool Aid.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Continuing Shame of Virginia’s Education System: Then and Now
It is very difficult for many of us today to fully understand the social impact that desegregation had on school systems in the 50s and 60s. Families were divided, people moved in order to change schools for their children, friends fought vociferously, and the political scene was, as usual, a mess. Massive resistance, the movement to prevent school desegregation after the Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court decision, was only one example of Virginia’s inability to place the needs of the students before the needs of the political parties.
From 1959 – 1964 Prince Edward County in Virginia closed their public school system, thereby sidestepping the issue of desegregation. With no schools they had no worries. Children of prominent, white families could be educated privately. The political arguments were pervasive and ridiculous, and it was the children who ultimately paid the price for the mistakes of the Commonwealth of Virginia.
Today, schools are desegregated. However, politics still plays a powerful role in our education system. This is evident in the fact that the upcoming address by President Obama to school age children on Tuesday has been banned from many public schools here in Virginia.
Many people will state that the speech has not technically been banned. However, when I visited Yorktown Elementary School this morning to discuss the matter with the principal, I was told that the schools across the county have simply chosen not to allow students to view the speech. The reason given was that nobody knew exactly what the President was going to say.
Somehow, I doubt the President is going to tell school age children they should vote democrat. I really don’t believe he’s going to push health care reform on the third graders. He probably won’t even mention Iraq or Afghanistan.
I could be wrong, but it seems to me that he might say something like, oh, I don’t know, study hard, stay in school, do your best… Dangerous words indeed.
York County is not the only school system in this state to put a stop to this inflammatory speech that will be given on Tuesday. For many of us, however, this type of idiocy is nothing more than a continuation of the arrogance of politics interfering with the necessity of education. And once again, it seems that arrogance and absurdity have won in the South.
From 1959 – 1964 Prince Edward County in Virginia closed their public school system, thereby sidestepping the issue of desegregation. With no schools they had no worries. Children of prominent, white families could be educated privately. The political arguments were pervasive and ridiculous, and it was the children who ultimately paid the price for the mistakes of the Commonwealth of Virginia.
Today, schools are desegregated. However, politics still plays a powerful role in our education system. This is evident in the fact that the upcoming address by President Obama to school age children on Tuesday has been banned from many public schools here in Virginia.
Many people will state that the speech has not technically been banned. However, when I visited Yorktown Elementary School this morning to discuss the matter with the principal, I was told that the schools across the county have simply chosen not to allow students to view the speech. The reason given was that nobody knew exactly what the President was going to say.
Somehow, I doubt the President is going to tell school age children they should vote democrat. I really don’t believe he’s going to push health care reform on the third graders. He probably won’t even mention Iraq or Afghanistan.
I could be wrong, but it seems to me that he might say something like, oh, I don’t know, study hard, stay in school, do your best… Dangerous words indeed.
York County is not the only school system in this state to put a stop to this inflammatory speech that will be given on Tuesday. For many of us, however, this type of idiocy is nothing more than a continuation of the arrogance of politics interfering with the necessity of education. And once again, it seems that arrogance and absurdity have won in the South.
Monday, August 31, 2009
What Comes Next?
All caregivers at some point in time face the question, “what next?” The question may pertain to quality of care, medical diagnoses, the hurdles of daily living, or end of life issues. Even after we get through all those questions with our loved ones, after the doctor’s appointments, after the meal preparations, after the constant care, the question exists, perhaps stronger than ever after death. What next?
I learned that for many caregivers that question is coupled with guilt. The guilt hides in the corners of your mind, waiting for the moments at night or early morning when your thoughts wander toward your loved one. It is a guilt born of denial, a guilt that says the doctors and nurses and medical knowledge were incorrect. There must have been, should have been, a way to save our loved one. But we let them die.
Never mind the fact that as caregivers we did everything humanly possible to... well, to care. Forget the sleepless nights or lack of a social life. Did we give them enough food? Did we give them the right kind of food? Did we help them get enough exercise? Did they get too much exercise? Were we just not strong enough to sustain their lives?
I know that my father had a disease with no known cure. I know that we did everything we could for him. Yet, somehow, when it came time to phone my relatives and tell them the end was in sight, I found myself apologizing. “I’m so sorry,” I said to my Uncle Sonny. “I tried, you know, but…”
“What are you talking about?” he shouted at me. “What else could you do? You did everything you could, this is just the way it is.”
I think that most caregivers are faced with the daunting challenge of accepting what Uncle Sonny called “the way it is”. Very rarely do we work so hard and sacrifice so much to be rewarded with loss. Yet that is the lesson most caregivers learn. Our loss is our reward.
I think the important part of this lesson is in remembering that our loss is our loved ones benefit. We gave what we could, we cared as best we knew how, but sometimes, despite our illogical belief in our powers, healing occurs only with death.
Once we are able to accept this idea we can begin to pick up the pieces. We can stop blaming ourselves for an event we could not control. After that, maybe, sometime in the not so distant future, we can begin to face what comes next.
I learned that for many caregivers that question is coupled with guilt. The guilt hides in the corners of your mind, waiting for the moments at night or early morning when your thoughts wander toward your loved one. It is a guilt born of denial, a guilt that says the doctors and nurses and medical knowledge were incorrect. There must have been, should have been, a way to save our loved one. But we let them die.
Never mind the fact that as caregivers we did everything humanly possible to... well, to care. Forget the sleepless nights or lack of a social life. Did we give them enough food? Did we give them the right kind of food? Did we help them get enough exercise? Did they get too much exercise? Were we just not strong enough to sustain their lives?
I know that my father had a disease with no known cure. I know that we did everything we could for him. Yet, somehow, when it came time to phone my relatives and tell them the end was in sight, I found myself apologizing. “I’m so sorry,” I said to my Uncle Sonny. “I tried, you know, but…”
“What are you talking about?” he shouted at me. “What else could you do? You did everything you could, this is just the way it is.”
I think that most caregivers are faced with the daunting challenge of accepting what Uncle Sonny called “the way it is”. Very rarely do we work so hard and sacrifice so much to be rewarded with loss. Yet that is the lesson most caregivers learn. Our loss is our reward.
I think the important part of this lesson is in remembering that our loss is our loved ones benefit. We gave what we could, we cared as best we knew how, but sometimes, despite our illogical belief in our powers, healing occurs only with death.
Once we are able to accept this idea we can begin to pick up the pieces. We can stop blaming ourselves for an event we could not control. After that, maybe, sometime in the not so distant future, we can begin to face what comes next.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Summer
It really should not come as a surprise. After all, it happens every year. Regardless of the events in our lives, regardless of the happiness and pains, the dramas and the boredom, we move forward in time. Once again, summer is almost at an end.
It is different now than when I was a child. When I was young I remember spending a lifetime on summer mornings staring at the grass in our yard, listening to the buzz of the cicadas and watching the ants move onto the sidewalk. I was waiting for it to warm up a little more so I could drop myself into the pool in the backyard and float the day away.
As an adult I have moved further south and no longer wait for the summer day to warm. By nine in the morning the temperature is well into the eighties, and some days it is actually too hot to go outside for any reason. Instead of watching grass and ants I watch my six year old play with Legos or superheroes, waiting for the inevitable cry of boredom after all toys destroy each other.
The difference, I think, between now and then, is that my childhood summers were languid. Time moved in a circuitous route and staring at the grass was just as good as riding my bike. Now, however, if I dared to stare at the grass, I feel lazy. It is my son's turn to be unhurried, to enjoy the stretch of the season. For me, it seems there is too much to get done, too many time constraints on my day. There is laundry and meals, there is grocery shopping and work, there are any number of adult necessities to pull me away from the reality of summer time.
Maybe tonight I’ll go outside and look for ants. Or enjoy the night sky. After I make dinner.
It is different now than when I was a child. When I was young I remember spending a lifetime on summer mornings staring at the grass in our yard, listening to the buzz of the cicadas and watching the ants move onto the sidewalk. I was waiting for it to warm up a little more so I could drop myself into the pool in the backyard and float the day away.
As an adult I have moved further south and no longer wait for the summer day to warm. By nine in the morning the temperature is well into the eighties, and some days it is actually too hot to go outside for any reason. Instead of watching grass and ants I watch my six year old play with Legos or superheroes, waiting for the inevitable cry of boredom after all toys destroy each other.
The difference, I think, between now and then, is that my childhood summers were languid. Time moved in a circuitous route and staring at the grass was just as good as riding my bike. Now, however, if I dared to stare at the grass, I feel lazy. It is my son's turn to be unhurried, to enjoy the stretch of the season. For me, it seems there is too much to get done, too many time constraints on my day. There is laundry and meals, there is grocery shopping and work, there are any number of adult necessities to pull me away from the reality of summer time.
Maybe tonight I’ll go outside and look for ants. Or enjoy the night sky. After I make dinner.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Anonymous
Anonymous has much to say these days. Anonymous posts in blogs and comments on newspaper articles. He is sometimes kind, sometimes intelligent, but more often rude, vulgar and just plain mean. Sometimes anonymous leaves it up to others, those who choose screen names such as "whodat" or "wtf".
Hiding behind a screen name has become synonymous with poor manners. For some reason our culture now finds it acceptable to use technology as a shield for rudeness. I am astounded at the insensitivity I have witnessed and wonder what it says about humanity. Are we at our hearts cold, insensitive and thoughtless? No, I think we have simply forgotten something our mothers told us long ago:
"If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Words to live by.
Hiding behind a screen name has become synonymous with poor manners. For some reason our culture now finds it acceptable to use technology as a shield for rudeness. I am astounded at the insensitivity I have witnessed and wonder what it says about humanity. Are we at our hearts cold, insensitive and thoughtless? No, I think we have simply forgotten something our mothers told us long ago:
"If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Words to live by.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Donuts
On Friday I bought a box of donuts at the grocery store. By the time I got home I was in tears. Yes, because of a box of donuts.
When my Dad was living with us I did everything I could to feed, feed, feed him. It was important to me that he gain, then later maintain, his weight. I would often buy donuts, cookies, ice cream, anything sweet to tempt him. Because, honestly, cholesterol and fat grams were not a concern.
After his passing I no longer had a need to buy that type of food. Although my son would probably dispute this in true six year old fashion, we do not need this kind of food so I do not buy it.
The process of grief is unexpected. On a startlingly calm day a memory can strike, rendering you mute. The closet door that I have stuffed emotions in for the past three years is starting to open a little at a time. This can be painful, but I know it is necessary.
And yes, the donuts are gone. My family ate them immediately. Maybe I need to buy some more.
When my Dad was living with us I did everything I could to feed, feed, feed him. It was important to me that he gain, then later maintain, his weight. I would often buy donuts, cookies, ice cream, anything sweet to tempt him. Because, honestly, cholesterol and fat grams were not a concern.
After his passing I no longer had a need to buy that type of food. Although my son would probably dispute this in true six year old fashion, we do not need this kind of food so I do not buy it.
The process of grief is unexpected. On a startlingly calm day a memory can strike, rendering you mute. The closet door that I have stuffed emotions in for the past three years is starting to open a little at a time. This can be painful, but I know it is necessary.
And yes, the donuts are gone. My family ate them immediately. Maybe I need to buy some more.
Monday, June 8, 2009
And Justice For All...
Tomorrow begins jury selection for the trial of accused murderer, Kevin Campbell. Kevin is charged in the shooting that killed Roland Lagasse, 51 years old, in Torrington, CT. Roland and Kevin were friends. On the evening in question, they argued, Kevin pulled out a gun, screamed, “You’re a dead man!” and shot Roland directly in the heart.
If that’s what friends are like, who needs them, right? Hopefully retribution will be swift and the punishment just. There is no question of whodunit in this case, there is no ambiguity. What we do have is a large number of witnesses.
Accused murderer Kevin Campbell will try to glean some sympathy for having been a Vietnam veteran, as well as having a crippled leg. Hopefully the jury will see through that and deliver a verdict of guilty. After all, there is no doubt: Kevin Campbell murdered Roland Lagasse. Let justice prevail.
If that’s what friends are like, who needs them, right? Hopefully retribution will be swift and the punishment just. There is no question of whodunit in this case, there is no ambiguity. What we do have is a large number of witnesses.
Accused murderer Kevin Campbell will try to glean some sympathy for having been a Vietnam veteran, as well as having a crippled leg. Hopefully the jury will see through that and deliver a verdict of guilty. After all, there is no doubt: Kevin Campbell murdered Roland Lagasse. Let justice prevail.
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