Freedom Day


 
I call it Freedom Day. One of my friends, who experienced it from the prisoner-getting-out viewpoint calls it the best day, but the hardest day of his life.

After six or seven years, being locked up since you were sixteen, you are free. There’s so much going on in your head, you can’t even cry. Oh, we shout, and I honk the horn as we drive away, but the young men fall quiet, and just look at the road ahead, the countryside, as we drive away.

Part of me wants the Mormon Tabernacle Choir here, singing the Hallelujah Chorus, as we march out to a parade of confetti and balloons. But, usually, it is just a staff member or two, and a cartful of their worldly possessions, their parole papers clutched in their sweaty hands, their faces stony with a mixture of fear, joy, and anticipation.

Everything they’ve known for the last seven years is back there, behind the fence, behind the locked door. The trunk has a duffle bag, a day pack, and a few garbage sacks of all they have in this world.

They even dawdle a bit, hugging buddies goodbye, everyone a bit teary, even though they are getting out, they are free now.

They slip into the front seat, put on their seatbelt. It’s their first ride in a vehicle in seven years without wearing a jumpsuit, their hands cuffed, and chained to their ankles. There’s a deep silence now, as that bit of their new reality sets in. No handcuffs. Just going for a ride down the road. Just like the rest of the world.

Two of the guys I’ve driven away from their life behind bars have clutched their Bibles, hands sweaty as we turn onto the road, and head away. One guy grabs the wood carving he’s making, a Raven mask, symbol of his tribe, his heritage, and the long, courageous road he’s already traveled in his young life.

I took a couple of them to the beach, a place they’ve been close to for a third of their lives, but have never walked on, never felt the bit of spray from the waves, or smelled the salty, fresh air in their lungs. They both hesitated, as we got out of the car, the early morning salt air cold against their faces.

“Aren’t you coming?” they each asked.

No. This is your time. Go. Walk. Run. Talk to God. Yell. Put your feet in the water, and feel it. Experience it. Be the wild boy you need to be. This is your day, this is your time.

You haven’t been alone for all these years, except in your mind, on your bunk in a dorm of twenty five, late at night. It is time to walk your beach, to be free, to be on your own. If anyone deserves to talk on their own, on the beach at dawn, it is you, my fledgling eagle.

Go fly a bit. Stretch those wings.

For two men, on their Freedom Day, they both looked back, to make sure I was still there, and then they moved forward, purposefully, manfully heading to the water. The waves crashed, the breeze freshened a bit, and the gulls mewed, as these brave young men gaze out to sea, so many thoughts racing through their minds. I stood there, in silent witness, a tear of joy, of exultation running down my cheek.

I say a silent prayer, a prayer of thanksgiving, and guardianship, wanting them to be protected, wanting them to blossom into strong, healthy men, men who embrace and cherish freedom and living a good, loving life. May this be their last day ever in prison.

Yes, I would wait for them, I would stand guard for them, these brave young men, taking flight, testing their wings and singing their songs, beginning a new life.

For one man, we celebrate Freedom Day and his birthday with a big breakfast. And candles, cake, and ice cream for dessert, on our best china, toasting to his freedom with sparkling cider and crystal goblets. It’s his second birthday cake in seven years, and the first time he’s had candles on a cake since he was ten. I broke out my mother’s silver, and cloth napkins. Time for a little spoiling, I think. After all, it is Freedom Day.

“More, please,” our young Pippen asks, and I pass him the platter of his special ordered sausage, bacon and biscuits. He fills his plate, mentioning that the knife and fork in his hand are metal. He’s only used plastic for six years.

“I guess I’ll have to get used to this,” he chuckles.

We sing “Happy Birthday extra sweetly for this man-child today, our hearts finally feeling what this day means. He blows out the candles, making a wish, as a tear slides down his face.

“Mom would never let us have cake for breakfast,” he says. “But, I guess we can break the rules today.”

Oh, yeah. We laugh when he asks for seconds on dessert.

One man comes to my house to shower, after his run on the beach. He’s in the bathroom quite a while, and comes out wondering what to do with his towel. He giggles a bit.

“First time I’ve had a shower all by myself in a bathroom in seven years. I had to just enjoy it.”

The rest of those Freedom Days become whirls of activities, of challenges, and adventures. We drive through the forest, far away from walls, and inmate counts, and lining up for a meal, or to go to a class, or any of the other institutional rituals in his day. We stop when we need to pee, or have a meal, or when we spot a herd of elk beside the road.

The closer we get to their new home, and their new challenges, their new life, the meaning of it all hits hard. They fall silent, their whirling minds even reaching me, tensing me up with their anxiety.

I’ve traveled these roads a lot, but on those Freedom Days, I, too, am feeling the freedom, sensing the beauty and peace of the forest, and fields, and little towns, the sun bright in a blue sky, unmarked by a fence, or a wall, or the numbing tedium of prison life. The routine of this trip isn’t ordinary today, and I start to appreciate the simple things, the ability to make some choices. Near the end of the trip, I take another road, just because I can.

We hit the variety store, picking up some necessities, getting a cell phone, one of today’s essentials. And, the mayhem, the crowds, the frenzies of others, normal to me, wash over my young men, overwhelming them with sensations. All their treatment work, all their counseling work on how to live now, out in society, as normal, healthy men, hasn’t prepared them for this, the chaos, the cacophony of our daily world. All this isn’t book learning, or “the future”, now. It’s reality, and it’s hard. And, it doesn’t stop. This class doesn’t end.

One Freedom Day, we head to a family lunch, in a busy restaurant, and I get to see some of the old family dynamics unfold, my buddy trying to deal with that, and how to order food, and how to deal with the chaos and drama at the tables around us. He finds words to say to his brother, a guy he hasn’t talked to in seven years. I see them ease up a little, sharing a joke.

He asks me what to order.

“Anything you want,” I grin.

And, we laugh, on every level.

I catch his eye and grin, giving him a wink. He lets out a chestful of air, and grins back. Yes, this is your new reality. You can do this. We are doing this. And, it will be all right.

 

A Graduation Speech to Knock Your Socks Off


Graduation Speech

Trask River High School

Tillamook, Oregon

Stephen Kaplan, Valedictorian

June 8, 2013

 

Well, here we are.  Graduation.  It has always been bizarre to me why we make it such a big event. All we had to do was show up to class, turn in some homework and pass a few tests.  I actually felt that way until I was asked to write a speech on the subject.  It wasn’t until I sat down and thought about what really went into graduating that I realized that it is a big event.

Having worked so hard to pass those tests, attending those classes, at becoming the man that could stand in front of you and speak on such a subject, I found that it is a great occasion.  I found that, especially for these sixteen graduates who are up here today, three things make it memorable:

  • The opportunities that got us here.
  • The work we did to get here.
  • What it can tell us about our futures, ourselves, and our lives.

The opportunities that we were given were unlikely.  Most of us came from places that we would never have had the chance to accomplish such a thing.  Some from bad neighborhoods, others from dysfunctional families, wherever it was, school was not much of a priority.

Then we got locked up.  In a place equated with loss of our lives as we knew them, freedom, and most, a little sanity.

Though some doors may have been locked behind us, many have opened in front of us.  We were given the opportunities to be here today.

The biggest thing that makes this such an important occasion are the sixteen men in front of you.  They took such an unlikely opportunity and ran.  They saw that door and walked through it, each facing their own struggles in doing so.  And whether it was the alphabet in math, where the comma goes in writing, or for myself, two long terms in fiber arts, we all overcame them in order to be graduating today.

As for the future, well, it’s what we make it.  I feel that I can speak for all of us when I say that these opportunities were a second chance in showing ourselves and others that it’s not time to give up yet; that we still have things to accomplish no matter how small or great.  And more than anything it shows us that we all have the ability to achieve what seemed so unlikely.

I want to finish with a quote that really sums up the importance of this event and what it means to each of us.  By my fellow graduate, Kenneth J.

He says, “A seed that wishes to thrive will blossom through concrete.”

And that is exactly what we did.

 

—–

 

(I’m sharing this with Oregon Governor John Kitzhaber, the directors of the Oregon Youth Authority and the Oregon Dept. of Corrections, as well as my state senator and state representative.)  This young man is now taking college classes, and just got an A in his second term of an on line calculus class. His academic goal is to earn an MBA.

Finding The Right Fathers’ Day Card


I walk past the large display of Fathers’ Day cards in the store, not even stopping to browse, to find the perfect card to send to a father. A twinge of sadness stings my gut, bringing back that old feeling, a mixture of grief, loss, and an emptiness that can’t be filled.

The greeting card companies and the TV ads tell me I’m supposed to make Fathers’ Day a special day for my dad.. But, they’re missing the point, and they sure don’t understand my life and how I think about Fathers’ Day.

Dad has been gone for most of my life. And even when he was around and I got him a card, he’d just nod, barely saying the “thank you” I’d been craving. My step dad has been gone a long time, too. I knew he liked my cards. He’d smile and give me a hearty handshake. We knew where we stood with each other.We just didn’t say them. Talking about love and fathering wasn’t part of our conversations. But, we knew. And, that was enough for me.

My father in law liked my cards, too. He’s chuckle and laugh, and there’d be a twinkle in his eye. He got a lot of attention on Fathers’ Day, and he knew he was loved. He gave it back, too. In spades.

This is the second year without him, and the emptiness inside of me as I look at all the choices on the card rack gets a bit deeper with me.

I’m on the other side of the coin now. I have a bunch of sons. My step son and I are close, even though he’s about six hundred miles away. We can share our love easily, with just a smile, a joke, or something funny we e-mail to each other. We still joke with each other, still playing pranks on each other with a silly plastic lobster. A few weeks ago, I found Mr. Lobster, again, and he starred in my movie, the one I made on my iPad, and sent to my 42 year old son.

A few hours later, my son sends me an e-mail. He’s in hysterics over my three minute movie, and invites me to share it with the rest of the family. I’m not sure he thought I would, but I did, showing him I, too, can make my way around You Tube, and make some jokes again, with Mr. Lobster.

One of my foster sons flies his paraglider way up in the air, sending me videos once in a while, looking down at the far away ground, or a jet liner flying under him. He knows I’m scared of heights, and I worry about him jumping off cliffs and flying high in the air, turning summersaults and making loops. I know he’s laughing every time he sends me his latest aerial adventures. It’s his way of saying he loves me, that he’s doing just fine.

I have other sons now, too, the young guys I mentor in prison, and some of the other guys there, too. The young man who makes the coffee drinks at the prison canteen on visiting days knows my usual order, and gets it started the moment I walk in the door. Other guys show me their art work, or tell me about doing well on a test, or moving ahead in their treatment. I get a lot of “Hi, Neal”s when I show up on their special days, or sit in on one of their activities, being a dad in their lives.

Their own dads don’t show up much, if at all. So, I like to give them a smile and a handshake, just to say hi, just to say that they are important.

I don’t find the “sons” section in the Fathers’ Day cards. There are the golfing joke ones, the religious ones, the silly ones, even the stepdad ones now. But, there aren’t any cards that say what I want to say, “Good job, son. Thanks for being the son. Without the son, there’d be no Fathers’ Day.”

“I’m proud of who you are, what you’ve become.”

That’s what this day is really about, sons and daughters. The dad takes on the job of helping to raise the child, to teach, to listen, to wipe snotty noses and change dirty diapers, and help them with their homework. And, to listen and counsel, and show them, by example, how it is to be a man, to move along in the world, being healthy, and wise.

I don’t have daughters, but I know they’re watching their dads, too.
“How are you at this man stuff? How do I live with you? What kind of man do I want in my life? And, while you are at it, teach me about trust.”

It is the biggest job I’ve ever had. A lot of teaching of respect, and capability, and a lot of unconditional love.

We’re supposed to show them what love is all about. And, respect. And, compassion and learning about this crazy world.

Being a dad is really learning how to be a good example, to be watched, and judged.

“How ARE you doing as a man?”

“Show me. But, I expect you to do it right.”

No pressure there!

And, by the way, the manual on all this stuff is out of print, and I can’t find an old copy on Amazon.

We’re the guys that wait by the door at night, making sure they get home safe from that party, or that big date. We’re there to listen, to nod, to simply be there, keeping the porch light burning, to be the guy who cares that they do have a home to come back to, after a day of being a teenager in a harsh, often indifferent, cruel world.

We give the hugs, wipe the tears, and look them in the eye, quietly telling them we believe in them. All things are possible. And, they are loved.

Such simple things we do. But, when that simple stuff gets neglected, or no guy is behind the front door when they do come home late at night, then all hell can break loose, and their fragile ships at sea too often crash onto the reefs and sink in the storms.

And, we’re the guys that haul the laundry sack to the laundry room, when they come home for the weekend. And, we fire up the barbecue, and cook their favorite foods, letting them hang out with their old friends. We often take a back seat then, letting them visit and laugh with their friends, as we flip the burgers, and get more potato salad out of the frig.

There will come the time when they’ll sit down with us on the couch, after the party, and after a long day at the beach with their friends. Then, they’ll talk, a bit shy at first, then going deep, talking about the serious questions of life that a young man has, once they get out in the world, and have to deal with all of life’s adult problems and worries.
Then, we listen, and we listen hard. Sometimes, they ask for advice, but mainly, they just want to talk, to show you they are doing OK, that they learned a lot from you about life, that they are doing pretty good at it.

And, we let them know, right back at them, that they’re doing a good job, and they we believe in them, and take pride in who they are becoming.
It’s pretty easy to sit there and listen, and to nod, to say a few words of encouragement.

You see, fatherhood is a whole bunch of just showing up, just being present in someone’s life.

You don’t need to give them your DNA, but you do need to give them your time, and your love. That’s fatherhood. That’s being a real man.
The good work comes in just answering the phone, or texting something sweet back, in the middle of the night, letting them know you are around, that you care.

I get my thanks, then, for being the dad. I get that when they don’t call for a couple of weeks at a time. I know they are fine, they are making their way, needing their independence, flexing their big boy muscles and making their way through life.

Someday, Hallmark might figure it out, and start selling “I love my kids” cards for Fathers’ Day. But, until they do, I’ll just keep on doing what I do best, loving all my kids with all my heart, and telling them, every chance I get, that I love them.

–Neal Lemery
June 11, 2013

High School Graduation Day, in Prison


Graduations are wonderful. The best ones, however, are in prison, watching youth fill with intense pride and determination, grasping a diploma that was well out of their reach, until their lives turned around, until they felt a sense of hope and possibility in their lonely, desperate lives.

Today, they succeeded, they grew, they came into their own. Their valedictorian gave the best graduation speech any of us had ever heard, bringing us to tears, and cheers, earning a standing ovation from all.

“When the doors of this prison locked behind us, other doors opened ahead of us,” was his opening line.

Later, he told me he was half way towards achieving his associates degree, and dreams of earning an MBA. I have no doubt he will accomplish all of that, and more.

Another young man played a captivating song, exhibiting great talent on the guitar, and with his voice. The principal remarked that he had never played publicly before. It was another moment of amazement and celebration.

I watched sixteen young men celebrate their amazing achievement, and move ahead, seizing opportunity, changing their lives, and making a better world for all of us.

Congratulations, Trask River High School Class of 2013!

22


Celebrating 22, birthday man,
Anger’s ashes still cooling
The man he thought was dad, died when he was fifteen,
Real dad never around, never calling him son,
The kindly grandma he thought he had, now not really sure
She even knows he lives, but remembering
Her laugh, her soup after school.

We eat cake and tells stories, play guitar and laugh,
No one else in these chairs now
Behind this prison’s walls
He sings me his song.

5/31/13

The Mentor’s Checklist


 

 

A mentor needs a checklist, perhaps a job description, of the tasks you need to perform, and a bit of a roadmap for the experiences you will have.  I do my mentoring work in a nearby prison for youth who have been convicted of sex crimes.  They are often lonely, needy young men, who also have amazing resilience and fortitude.

 

This list is a good starting point on the art of mentoring, and learning about who you are, what you value in life, and how your experiences shaped your life.

 

  • Be a good role model.  Ultimately, it is not what you say, but how you act.

 

  • First, do no harm.  This is the corollary to the Golden Rule.  You do this work to help others, and to nurture young souls.  “If you aren’t part of the solution, you are part of the problem.”
  • Be on time.  Be accountable and professional.  Just showing up in your mentee’s life is enormous, and, often, a new experience for them.  If you are going to be late, or need to reschedule, contact them promptly, and apologize.  They have had a lifetime of people not showing up in their lives.
  • Be clean and presentable.  Your visit is important to them, and by you taking care of yourself, and being prepared, you model healthy behavior and good social skills.  One of my young men scrupulously examines my choice of shirts and is sensitive to my breath.  You are a role model in this work, and you will be examined and tested.
  • Coffee and food are good ice breakers, and provide a social atmosphere.  You are also teaching your mentee how to socialize, and chat over a cup or a snack.  Giving the coffee and the food is also an act that models care and compassion.  The prison I visit has a canteen, and the menu choices, ordering, paying, and being served our selection has offered countless lessons in real life living and accountability.
  • Don’t pry.  If they have a story they want to share, or a bit of their history, they will let you know and they will tell you.  A lot of people have asked them questions about this stuff, as part of their job, and you may come across as yet another social worker gleaning information and pumping them for details about stuff they probably don’t like talking about.  If you create an atmosphere of trust, and genuine positive mutual regard, you will hear stories.  Your challenge then becomes to be able to listen without overtly dropping your jaw when they share some astonishing anecdote of what they have survived.
  • Share some things about your life, your adolescence, your hobbies, a funny story you heard, some pleasant event that has occurred in your life.  Be a teller of nice stories, stories that don’t expect a response, or talking about their own lives.  But, in doing this, you are modeling social skills and developing trust.  Once there is trust, you will hear their stories, and their dreams.  You are growing men here, which is complicated business.
  • Confidentiality.  Don’t gossip about your mentee, or their lives, and respect their privacy.  They probably don’t have much privacy in their lives, and this time with you will develop into a time where they can truly be themselves, let their hair down and confide in you.  Confidentiality and trust are intertwined.  You are developing a healthy relationship, and you are modeling that.  There is gossip in prison, too, so be professional at all times when you are visiting.
  • Don’t preach your own version of religion and spirituality.  They’ve had a lot of that, and you aren’t there as a minister or proselyte.  You will get questions about your spirituality, and I’ve tried to answer those inquiries with a lot of “I” statements, and a sense of continuing inquiry and journey.  This area can be a rich source of good conversations.
  • Be open about your obligations as a mandatory reporter of abuse.  Most mentors have a legal obligation to report child abuse and elder abuse.  Let your mentee know of your obligations.  I think it is a good idea to spend a few minutes early on about your legal duties, coupled with what you think mentoring is and what you are there for.  Your mentee is curious about that, as well, and they also have ideas of what they expect from you.  This is a continuing conversation.  We have all grown from that conversation.
  • Be open to challenges and opportunities for real change.  One of my mentees disclosed to me an incident of being a victim of sexual abuse. I reported this to staff, and the next day, I sat with my young man as he told his story to a supportive team of staff members.  After four years of institutionalization, and countless treatment and counseling sessions, he was finally able to share this burden.  My role was to be non-judgmental, supportive, and to facilitate counseling for him.  He told me later he couldn’t have gone through that without me at his side.  And, that report speeded up his emotional growth and his successful completion of sex offender treatment.
  •   I suggest you also have a moral obligation to report suicidal ideations, depression, and other significant emotions, thinking, and plans you hear from your mentee.  Make these reports openly, compassionately, and with a commitment to be emotionally supportive with your young mentee as professional staff deals with this information.
  • Be seen as a resource, and an advocate for your mentee’s best interests.  Yes, sometimes, you need to be the messenger of a “not nice” incident or state of mind.  So be it.  There’s a bit of parenting in the job of mentor, and parents need to speak loving truth.  I strive to be open and up front with what I am doing and what I value.
  • You will have a continuing dialogue with staff members and your mentee about your mentee’s life and their well being.  Make this a fruitful time, and be supportive of the work that needs to be done.
  • Be mindful that some things that need to be done or said can only be done by a volunteer, someone who isn’t bound by a lot of rules and procedures.  For example, staff can’t bring gifts for one youth.  You can.
  • Be sensitive to their health and their emotional state.  If they are tired, drained, or worried about something, let them know you care and that you are aware of their condition.  Be supportive, and helpful.  Normalize their worries, and show compassion.
  • Model good problem solving skills.  Tell stories of how you have experienced difficult situations and crises.  Explain how you worked through it, and talk about the resources you have had for such events.  If I tell about a mistake I’ve made, that message becomes even more meaningful and productive.  You are modeling your humanity, not your divinity.
  • Model respect.  Be courteous, kind, and compassionate, not only to your mentee, but to the staff members and other people around you when you visit.  Remember, it is not what you say, but how you act that is the most effective message you deliver.
  • Be upbeat.  No matter what kind of day you’ve had, or what you are worried about, be positive, cheerful, and supportive.  You do this to give them healthy energy, and to model healthy, positive living.  You can use your own experience that day to be the basis for your message, and how you deal with it.
  • Invite your mentee to offer their suggestions on how you should handle a problem.  Engage them in healthy decision making and empathic behavior.  You are partners in this endeavor we call mentoring.  Learn from each other.  When they are teaching you, they also learn the lesson.  You are creating an atmosphere of learning, and mutual positive regard.
  • Plan some fun activities.  A birthday, a holiday, or some major event in the institution are opportunities to plan something positive, uplifting, and supportive.  Then, show up for those events.  Be on time, and behave appropriately.  Such behavior is often a new event in their lives.  Several of my young men had never, ever had a birthday party or presents.  Throwing a simple birthday party for them turned into the highlight of their year and gladdened my heart beyond measure.
  • Mail them something regularly.  A birthday card, a Christmas card, a postcard from some place you’ve visited, a copy of an interesting article you read in the paper, or a funny cartoon from the comics section, or an article about one of their favorite musicians, all of these things brighten their day.  Sometimes, writing two sentences on a note card and sending it to them does immeasurably good work.
  • Find an appropriate book for them.  Suggest some good reading.  You might consider reading the book together at some of your meetings, which helps you assess their reading and comprehension skills, and makes your meetings meaningful and productive.  I sometimes donate appropriate books to the institution, so that all the youth can benefit from some positive and useful materials (Scrabble dictionary, math tutoring educational materials, appropriate young adult novels, Native  American cultural materials, etc.)  We all have books on our shelves that are gathering dust, and a donation is not  only good for your tax returns, but also good for your heart.
  • Be  involved in their education and counseling work.  Attend the periodic staffings on your mentee, and ask some questions.  You will often notice things, or hear concerns that your mentee doesn’t express to staff.  When appropriate, bring those up.  One of my young men couldn’t see well and needed to have an eye exam.  No one else noticed this, but I did, and he now wears glasses and can do much better in school. You also establish a dialogue with staff and you show them you can be a resource for them to use in helping your mentee.
  • Look for ways to bring more of the community into the institution.  Last year, my wife and I arranged for a friend and his band partner to put on a concert in the institution.  Everyone had a grand time, and the youth got to ask questions, and enjoy a professional rock and roll performance.  Master gardeners and volunteers from the local Celebrate Recovery and AA organizations now come regularly, and others offer a variety of educational and cultural activities, as well as mentoring.
  • Respect their family time.  Such time is often sporadic or even non-existent.  Be flexible, and expect some emotional fall out, both before and after such events.  You are part of the support system, and your mentee will naturally compare your relationship and your behavior on your visits, with their family experiences.  Soft pedal the differences, and don’t sit in judgement about their family.  Your mentee is well aware of the differences, and needs to not have to justify or explain what they see and what they feel.  And, some day, you will hear what they think.  This is a good space to practice your quiet cheerleading, unconditional personal regard skills.  The day one of my guys graduated from high school, I stepped back, and didn’t spend much time with him.  He knew I was there, and he needed to spend time with his family.  He knew I supported him, and that was enough.  I still got to see him graduate, and he had the space to navigate through family waters.
  • Practice self care.  Take a break once in a while.  Have a “safe place” you can process the stories you hear and the emotions you experience.  You will hear some tough stories, and experiences that deeply touch your heart.  On the way home, there is a “crying spot” for me.  Sometimes, I stop there for a few minutes, and I often take some deep breaths, and cry, letting the sadness, the loneliness, and the “matter of fact” tone of one of my guy’s stories whirl around in my head, and find a place to go.  Yes, I carry around those stories, but I also need to process them and deal with the sadness, and the tragedy of young lives.  I have a big heart, and broad shoulders, but I also have my limits, and I need to respect my limits.
  • Surround yourself with supportive friends and activities, so that you are emotionally healthy and balanced, and can bring that goodness with you on your visits.
  • Tell your stories of your own growth and experiences to others, so that these young lives can be a part of your community.

Wisdom I Heard This Week


The Wisdom I Heard This Week

Eckhart Tolle

“May I suggest a deeper and somewhat unusual perspective on who you are?
You are not just a person, and you are not IN the Universe.
You ARE the Universe, which IN YOU is awakening, experiencing itself, becoming conscious. That consciousness is who you are in essence. We are all fleeting expressions of it. The Universe awakens THROUGH experiencing challenges and limitations. That means YOU awaken and deepen through your challenges, as does humanity as a whole. So welcome or at least accept all that life brings you. Change what can be changed, otherwise surrender to what IS. Feel the Presence within you as the background to every experience. Know that, as Jesus put it, ‘you are the light of the world.’ “
With love
Eckhart Tolle

Johnny Moses, Salish storyteller

You decide if you want to live, or if you want to die.

If you decide you want to live, you also need to decide how you will live.

Every day is a new start, a rebirth, a new beginning. You can’t go back. You have to move ahead.

Love yourself. Respect yourself. The power of loving yourself is transformative.

Every adult in the village can be a parent. When you are growing up, you need a lot of parents.

In the Salish language,
the words for singing and crying are the same
the words for death and change are the same

(Life is a process of change. Embrace that change and move on. Be reborn.)

In Salish culture, you are not a man until you can cry for your people. When boys learn to cry and share their emotions, then they become men.

Notes from the Dalai Lama’s Talk on Compassion

Portland, Oregon, May 11, 2013

“Compassion means genuine loving kindness, the wish for others to be happy. All the world’s religions — every one — message is compassion. We need the practice of tolerance. We need the practice of forgiveness.”

People of faith who aim to practice these values must be serious about it.

“In many cases, religious practice is simply lip service. Talk compassion, do something different. Sometimes religion teaches us hypocrisy.”

“We can see among non-believers some people really dedicated to serving other people. Be a compassionate person, not necessarily a religious believer.”

“Compassion is the key factor one one’s own well-being. We are social animals, but those dogs always barking often remain lonely.”

Compassion includes tolerance and acceptance. Anger is counter-balanced by tolerance and acceptance.

Serving others is a tradition of all religions. All religions have the same potential.

Be truly, sincerely committed. Everyone needs the practice of compassion, in order to be happy. Compassion is not only for religious people.

Compassion and affection are biological in nature. (For example, nurturing a baby.) As we grow older, greed and self-centeredness erode our compassion. These are the costs of growing up.

Religious tradition builds on the biological compassion, to encourage a lifetime of compassion. All faiths have a tradition of compassion.

Affection, action, and research are our karma in our lives. When change occurs, we need to research, re-evaluate, take action, and change. Action that is positive results in happiness.

A materialistic life is a cultural habit, and is living at a superficial level. It is animal thinking. So, go broader. Humans are able to reason. Use reason to extend compassion to all levels, all people. Change your thinking.

Materialism is not happiness.

The hygiene of emotion. Our emotional state is as important as our physical state. We need to educate ourselves and others about emotional health.

This is “secular ethics”. “Secular” means to respect all religions and the non-believer.

Religion promotes basic human values, but, often, religious practices and views corrupt this. The ruling class can corrupt this, and there is often bullying.

Institutions get corrupted. We need to recognize this, change, and oppose this. Religion isn’t necessarily religious institutions.

Sincerely gentle people live better, more peaceful, happier lives, and have more friends.

Affection, a sense of concern, brings trust, brings friendship.

Fear, hate, and anger eats at our immune system. Compassion increases our immune system.

People, if they are NOT the recipient of affection early on in their lives, are less satisfied, have a lesser sense of love, are more anxious, and less happy.

Be committed. Be unified with others who are also seeking more compassion in their lives.

(compiled by Neal Lemery) May 18, 2013

Crossing


You, and you, and you
slipped away from me, before
my defining of your time,
yet you were ready,
crossing the veil, and moving into the
new world.
its mysteries awaiting me
still.

And, you, still close to me, still here,
still able to speak wisdom to my heart,
your eyes looking deep into me,
calling me to dig deeper, inside
and share more of me with all,
to grow, and even bloom,
me, the reluctant flower.

And I look deep into you,
knowing now
that your time is coming,
soon you will cross over
to become the harvest in the garden
you have been planting
all these glorious years.

Watching that journey of yours,
and how you prepare, and how you make
each day
its own wonder, its own birth,
you again give me wisdom
on how I walk my path
and plan my own
crossing, my own
garden of love.

Neal Lemery
May, 2013