Category Archives for Uncategorized

The Mysticism of My Soul


The Mysticism of My Soul

–by Neal Lemery
3/15/2013

I search. I search for a relationship with God, for knowledge, for understanding, for being.
Intellectually, I have searched. And, intuitively, I have searched for that experience, to be on a full and complete journey for an understanding, for becoming closer, to find my place in this world, for answers to my deepest questions.
This is my latest experience, in reading and contemplating this book. I was referred by a friend, a spiritual advisor and guide, and have taken myself on a richer path towards understanding.
Here are my notes, my gleanings, from this experience.
Yet, this experience is not yet complete, and perhaps just begun.
How this all plays out will be an experience. I am at the beginnings of being transformed, which is, I believe, the purpose of this book, and why it came into my hands. Nothing happens by chance. This experience, this now, was simply meant to be for me, at this time and place.
Travel with me. I hope you will find this a rich, and ultimately disturbing and rewarding experience.
It is part of where I am at now. Looking inward, and outward, and now, more of a searching experientially, more mystically. I look for the mystery in all of this, and in that, find meaning, and spiritual peace.

The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See, by Richard Rohr.

Religion and spirituality should be transformative, not mechanical, not form over substance, not structured by reason and logic. Modern Christianity lacks the mysterious, experiential aspects of faith, hope, and love that were essential aspects of the spiritual experience, the spiritual essence of Jesus.
True religion is an experience of paradox, of mystery, not dogma, not rules and forms, not an “us vs. them”, “right vs wrong” view of the world and of our experiences.
The spiritual experience is not found in “churchianity” but in the mystical, the unknowing, the mysterious. When we are in awe, when reason and logic do not provide us with answers, then we are truly having a spiritual experience and living a spiritual life.
Read the Gospels as a celebration of the paradoxes of the spiritual experience.
Fear and distraction are not part of religion. Spiritual masters urge us to go inward, to experience the wonder and awe of God in ourselves, and in our world, and to be simply amazed, confounded, perplexed, and being OK with not having certainty in our experiences. And, to view our fellow humans in the same light, as beings seeking unity with God, and to be in awe of what we do not know, to let that wonderment and uncertainty invigorate us, and ignite our spark of creativity, compassion, and service to others.
Our Western, modernistic, logical thinking as led us into dual thinking: us vs them, right vs wrong, good vs bad, etc. “Maybe” is also an answer, a solution. A literal reading of scripture is not gaining a sense of the message of scripture.
Religion is not science, it is not logic. It is experiential, it is being one with nature, with the amazing, awe inspiring, mysteriousness of what we cannot understand, what we cannot fully explain.
This journey requires opening out hearts and our minds to mystery, to the infinity of the Universe, to the experiences of finding God within ourselves, and within our world, and just experience that. Some things are not explainable, and are not analyzed with our problem solving and logical thought processes. Being in awe is a natural state of existence and of spiritual life.
We find God in disorder and imperfection, in chaos. We don’t have the answers to our questions. We stumble and we fall, but it is our journey in this that we have our relationship with God.
In hope is also unity with God.
Mysticism is moving from belief and belonging systems to actual inner experience.

Greek Logic:
The law of identity: A = A. A thing is the same as itself. No two things are exactly the same.
The law of contradiction: If A = A, then A cannot be B. B cannot be A.
The law of the extended middle or third: A cannot be both A and B at the same time.
Such thinking is the foundation of Western thought, and of our science, technology, and education.
Yet, mystical spirituality does not follow these “rules” and this way of thinking. This is “duality” thinking, and mysticism calls us to be open to the paradoxes of experience, and to be in awe of the mysterious, and the unknown.
If we read scripture outside of our Greek Logic thinking, and see spirituality as having mystery and “illogical” reasoning, then we are closer to a full spiritual experience and a richer spiritual life.
Joy can simply be joy. It doesn’t have be be explained, or be either “right or wrong”. It can simply just be.
Prayer is not a petition for gifts or answers, it is being open to the mystical, the spiritual, to see with one’s third eye. It is to be in a state of transformation with God. Jesus prayed alone. It is not a ritualized experience, but a heartfelt, heart opening experience.
A relationship with God does not require an intermediary.
One can lead people only as far as you yourself has gone.
Christians do not pray “to” Christ, they pray “through” Christ. Christ is a paradox, a mystery. The experience is not subject to our logic, our Western analysis and problem solving methods.
Our culture, and certainly our politics, are now caught up into dualistic, “right or wrong” thinking and analysis. We are missing the point. Life is paradoxical, and mystical. We should strive to embrace that. It is a journey, not an answer, not a “solution” we are after. We are human beings, not human doings.
Non-duality, being present. There is a lack of control.
“A large percentage of religious people become and remain quite rigid thinkers because their religion taught them that to be faithful and stalwart in the ways of God, they had to create order.” (p. 36)
Instead, the focus is on spiritual transformation. We all have access to God.
We stand in disbelief, we stand in the question itself, we stand in awe before something. We are “in process”, in transformation. We are present in all of this. The question is more important than the answer.
Judgements. We like to make judgements. We are analyzers, problem solvers, practitioners of Greek logic. Yet, we see what we are ready to see. Pure experience is always non dualistic.
Fundamentalism “is a love affair with words and ideas about God instead of God himself or herself. But you cannot really love words; you can only think about them.” (p. 50)
For many people, their religion has been a tribal experience rather than a transformative experience. This shift is called contemplation (early Christianity), meditation or the practice (Buddhism), ecstasy (Sufi Islam), living from the divine spark within (Hasidic Judaism).
The major change in our thinking: how we do the moment. Wisdom is the freedom to do the present.
“All great spirituality is somehow about letting go.” (p 64).
Prayer is returning the gaze of God.
If God is everywhere, then God is not anywhere exclusively, is the message of Jesus.
The imitation of God: to love one another and ourselves exactly the way God loves us.
“We do not see things as they are; we see things as we are.” (p. 82).
The three levels of conversion: intellectual, moral, religious (a being in love). God is love.
Accepting ongoing change as a central program for yourself.
Organized religion has historically attached itself to the political and social regime in power. Christianity was invited into the Roman Emperor’s palace in 313 A.D. and hasn’t left.
The ego hates change. The ego self is the unobserved self. Once you see yourself, then you will see the need to change.
Most of the prophets were killed by their own followers.
Inertia resists change.
“If your religious practice is nothing more than to remain sincerely open to the ongoing challenges of life and love, you will find God.” (p. 96).
Healthy religion is always about seeing and knowing something now.
Prayer is resonance with God. Once you are “tuned”, you will receive. Prayer is about changing you, not about changing God.
“Immediate, unmediated contact with the moment is the clearest path to divine union; naked, undefended, and nondual presence has the best chance of encountering the Real Presence.” (p. 105).
Being present is to live without resolution, at least for a while. It is an “opening and holding” pattern. Dualistic Christianity is believing things to be true or false. Instead, be open to paradox, to mystery, to uncertainty. Be open to simply being in the experience.
Allow an infilling from another source: love.
“We must move from a belief-based religion to a practice-based religion, or little with change.” (p. 108).
“When you are concerned with either attacking or defending, manipulating or resisting, pushing or pulling, you cannot be contemplative. When you are pre-occupied with enemies, you will always be dualistic.” (p. 110).
“We are too rational… All that is best is unconscious or superconscious.”
(Thomas Merton, p. 112).
“Small people make everything small.” (p. 114)
“Dualistic people use knowledge, even religious knowledge, for the purposes of ego enhancement, shaming, and the control of others and themselves, for it works very well that way. Non-dual people use knowledge for the transformation of persons and structures, but most especially to change themselves and to see reality with a new eye and heart.” (p. 115).
Faith is more how to believe than what to believe. It is no longer either-or thinking, but now both-and-thinking.
Embrace the paradox.
Opening the door to this thinking, this being present. Through great love and through great suffering. When we are stuck, then we are challenged to change our thinking. These are times when you are not in control, and Greek logic doesn’t work for you.
“If you do not transform your pain, you will surely transmit it to those around you and even to the next generation.” (p. 125).
“Once you accept mercy, you will hand it on to others. You will become a conduit of what you yourself have received.” (p. 126).
“How you love one thing is how you love everything. …How you love is how you have accessed love.” (p. 127)
For mystics, words have become flesh and experience has gone beyond words. Words are mere guideposts now, but some have made them hitching posts.
The challenge of a new mind: “Christianity is to be something more than a protector of privilege, fear-based thinking, and the status quo. We need what Paul calls a ‘new mind’, which is the result of a spiritual revolution.” (p. 133).
The goal: Be a living paradox. Love what God sees in you.
“By and large Western civilization is a celebration of the illusion that good may exist without evil, light without darkness, and pleasure without pain, and this is true of both its Christian and secular technological phases.” Alan Watts, The Two Hands of God. (p. 143).
We don’t live in just light, or just in dark. We live in the shadowlands. We need a bit of darkness and we need a bit of light.
“Most major religious teachings do not demand blind faith as must as they demand new eyes.” (p. 146)
“Western Christianity has attempted to objectify paradoxes in dogmatic statements that demand mental agreement instead of any inner experience of the mystery revealed.” (p. 147).
Instead, Jesus is the template of total paradox: heavenly, yet earthly, the son of God, yet human, killed yet alive, marginalized yet central, victim yet victor, incarnate yet cosmic, nailed yet liberated, powerless yet powerful.
Jesus is the microcosm of the macrocosm.
“Follow me” is a directive to be on Jesus’ journey, to be part of the parade of walking in the paradoxes, the mysteries, to embrace the experience, yet not needing to explain the experience.
“The term ‘Christ’ is a field of communion that includes all of us with him. You do not ‘believe” these doctrines, you ‘know’ them.” (p. 148).
The concept of Trinity breaks down the dualistic thinking pattern. The Trinity is a paradox, a recognition of paradox.
In quantum physics, physical matter is both a wave and a particle. It is both, yet neither. The developing science of quantum physics embraces the paradox.
“We have worshipped Jesus, instead of followed him. We have made Jesus into a mere religion instead of a journey toward union with God. We have created a religion of belonging rather than a religion of transformation. Yet, we are forever drawn into the mystery graciously and in ways we cannot control.” (p. 154-155).
Leadership: “Good leaders must have a certain capacity for non-polarity thinking and full-access knowing (prayer), a tolerance for ambiguity (faith), an ability to hold creative tensions (hope), and an ability to care (love) beyond their own personal advantage.” (p 158)
Seeing wholeness: head, heart, and body, all present and positive.
Dualistic people: cannot accept that God objectively dwells within them. This is a lack of forgiveness.
What you see is what you get. What you seek is also what you get.
How you respond to something is your creation of your own reality.
You desire only what you have already partially found.

—Richard Rohr, The Naked Now: Learning to See as the Mystics See, Crossroads Publishing Co, New York, 2009.
—

Freedom Day: Getting Paroled and the Incoming Tide


On the beach, he found himself looking at the waves crashing onto the clean sand. Seagulls flew by and landed in a group, just above the incoming tide. The skies were clearing from yesterday’s storm, and the air was fresh, clean, and free.

He was alone, except for the waves, and the gulls, and me, a hundred yards away, watching, watching over him, this first day of freedom.

I saw him gulp the cool, salty air, and then, another gulp, until finally his chest relaxed and he let it all go, released.

Released. Let go from prison this morning, after six and a half years. He knew the exact number of days, and had been counting down each one of them for as long as I’d known him.

The gate swung behind us and clanged shut. A familiar sound to me, after all the visits here with him and other young men, but a new, and final sound for him. Other young men had brought all his belongings from six years behind bars, filling my car, readying us for his trip today to his new life, his new beginning.

We drove away and he could only say “Man, oh, man.”

I honked the horn at the empty road ahead, and offered a shouted “hooray”, and he laughed, finally.

He fell silent, after all the good byes and handshakes and hugs with all the other young men, and the prison staff. Bittersweet, after months of anticipation, almost afraid to go, and move on with his life, from the known and the routine, into new places, new routines, and a new, fresh life.

The waves kept crashing onto the beach, and he had to run back a bit, when a wave moved up farther, almost soaking his shoes. It was a good dance, turning into a bit of a jig, as he became a part of the incoming tide, a part of the morning at the beach, joining the world.

He’d sat down at our breakfast table, laughing at the big plate of eggs and bacon and sausage and the plate of biscuits fresh out of the oven, everything he’d ordered for this day. A real fork and a real knife, not the plastic of the last six and a half years.

I’d thought the event warranted breaking out my mother’s silverware, and candlesticks, and china. Placemats, and all his favorites cooked to order, served on a china platter, and strawberries in a dish.

I refilled his coffee, and waited on him, hand and foot. I thought he needed that, after all these years.

His birthday was tomorrow, and we only had this morning to spoil him. I’d baked him a cake, and I slipped back into the kitchen, ready for a party.

I slipped back into the dining room, with blazing candles, and we broke out into a rousing “Happy Birthday”.

He laughed and nearly cried, and gave a lusty blow out to the candles, as we applauded. I bet his wish was already granted: freedom.

He laughed again, the thought of birthday cake, and now, ice cream, for breakfast. He said his grandmother wouldn’t approve, but then, he laughed again, and said today was probably a good reason for an exception to the rule. We laughed at him being the rule breaker, the scofflaw, not even an hour into his parole.

The sky got lighter and he spotted the neighbor’s horse in the field, and the pink of the dawn. It was a new view, after all. Six and a half years in the same fenced compound, and now everything was new.

He had a second piece of cake, and a bit more ice cream, and then opened up his card, and his presents. Wonder sparkled in his eye, sitting here, in our house, and not where we’d always visited, behind that gate, that gate that clanged for him today, for the last time. It was all new, and it was all delicious, sweet.

It was all about him today, all about getting out and making a fresh start, and moving on with his life.

Soon, we’d be in the car, and driving south, a big day. A lot of miles to cover, and a lot of time to catch up on.

First the beach, and then, along a bay, and then a river, and through the forest, then farmers’ fields, and a city. He stared out the window, not saying much at times, and on we went.

He asked me about the trees, what they were called, and what about the salmon in the river, and what kind of logs were on that log truck.

We came to a place where we could go one way, or the other. Both roads led to where we were going, so it didn’t matter, and he told me which way to go. He chuckled then, at the choosing of which way to go, which road looked better. He’s made a decision; it was not a big deal, but then, maybe it was.

In the city, we met up with his good friend, a guy who had gotten out of the same place a week earlier, and was doing fine. He’d settled into his new home, a halfway house. He had a seven p.m. curfew, and laughed when others there thought that was too confining. In a month, he could be out until eleven, more freedom than he’d ever thought could be.

I took the two young men to a steak house, so they could eat their fill of meat. They’d both been craving barbeque, and big, greasy ribs, for quite a while, and ordered the big plates of beef, and chicken, and a mound of fries. Menus and ordering and making decisions on all the food was new to them, and when the attractive waitress joked around with them, they didn’t quite know what to do, at least for a minute.

All too soon, the big plates were clean, and bellies were full, and smiles were seen all around.

We said good bye to the young man we’d picked up, and headed off, heading to where home was six and a half years ago. We laughed about lunch and all that he could eat, and the extra slice of birthday cake I’d packed for him before we left my house.

He got quiet then, when the freeway sign told us how many miles it was to home. All this freedom was getting to him, finally, getting right into his heart.

Off to the side of the freeway, there was a beautiful field, shining in the sun with that first bright green that comes with the two or three springlike days of February. Those days are always a tease, making us think spring is here, but it isn’t.

The green was real, though, and worthy of mention.

So were the sheep, grazing on the grass. An entire flock of ewes, and their newborn lambs. The woolly babies were running and jumping, celebrating the newness of their lives and sunshine and green grass and promise of spring.

“I’m free,” he whispered then. “I’m finally free.”

Fresh tears flowed then, from all the eyes in the car, and we didn’t speak for quite a while, caught up in that moment.

We were both free, that day, even if the promised spring was not yet here. There was freedom in the air, in the rush of the incoming tide, in the color of the sky at dawn, in the light on his face from all the birthday candles, and the dance of the lambs on the fresh green grass of a new spring.

Neal Lemery 2/26/2013

The Gift of Education


The Gift of Education: My Speech at My Mentee’s College Graduation, Camp Tillamook, February 7, 2013

It is an honor and privilege to be in this place of personal change, this place of education, and to honor D***.

I am one of D***’s mentors, his friend, and, sometimes, his rhythm guitar player. I stand here with pride and with admiration for a job well done.

We honor D*** for his determination, for his will power, and for his accomplishments. We honor his dedication to make something of himself, to make fundamental changes in his life, and to challenge himself to succeed.

He is the first among you to attain his Associates Degree. This is a remarkable and significant accomplishment.

D*** is the first to achieve this milestone here. But, he is only the first among many.

I look around this room, and I see all of you young men who will follow D***‘s lead, who will keep working hard, and learning. You will achieve your own college degrees.

We also come here today to honor all of you young men. You are all students, you are all learning, and applying yourselves. You are bettering yourselves, and preparing for your own bright and successful futures. You are becoming healthier, and stronger, men.

Today, we come here to honor the power and the gift of education.

Education is a gift each of us gives to ourselves. No one can ever take away that gift. Your ability to learn, to explore, to develop your minds, will always be yours. No one can steal your ability to learn new information, to think through problems, and to come up with brilliant and comprehensive solutions.

You are the problem solvers of our future. You are the future of this country, and we expect you to be successful in creating a bright future for you and your families, and for the generations who will come after you.

And, that is a sacred trust we place in you.

As we look around at the staff members in this room, we see that they are educated people. They have gone to college. They have made sacrifices and sweated over their hard work. And, they have bettered themselves.

They have developed their minds, and taken the time to grow and educate themselves. They bring their education and their strong minds to this place, to teach, and to help you succeed, to be complete and healthy men.

Every staff member has made a difference. Every one of them has changed you and they have changed the world.

Because of education, they are better husbands and wives, better fathers and mothers, better neighbors, and better human beings.

I ask you to look inside of yourselves and take inventory of who you are inside, and who you want to be. Think of the possibilities you have.

Each of us has the power to change our lives, to move ahead, and to be healthy, strong people.

The work that each one of you is doing here is the work of education. Education changes lives. Education frees each of us from the slavery of bad ideas, of helplessness, and despair. Education gives us hope.

You are changing lives here.

We need more than a belief in our heart that the world needs to change, and that we need to change. We need to be problem solvers, we need to be the engineers and architects of a new world. We need to be the song writers and poets who will bring more love and happiness to the world, and to each other.

All of that world depends on education.

D*** is the first of you to achieve a college degree. He has opened up the trail, and he is leading all of you by his example.

But, he is not the only one here who will go on and achieve great things in his life. He is not the only one who will master complex skills and challenging ideas, and become a solver of problems, a teacher, and a healer of his fellow man.

Every one of you has that capability.

The only limits that any of us have right now are the limits we impose on ourselves. Every one of you can achieve your dreams.

And, the key to those goals and those dreams is in your education.

This is the gift we celebrate tonight, the gift of education. It is as close to you as the books on your bookshelf, the discussions you have in class tomorrow, and the serious conversations you have around the dinner table tonight.

It all starts with you. Today. Right now.

Take that gift, and run with it.

The future is yours.

Thank you.

—Neal Lemery

Cleansing


–by Neal Lemery

It was a day to clean out a closet, to purge old clothes I hadn’t worn for ages, to remove items I no longer used, to literally clean house.

Soon, bare hangers and a full garbage bag resulted, even the basket of newspapers was in the car, ready for the recycling truck in town. The closet now had room to breathe, and the washer was making some old, dusty clothes ready to be used again, at the front end of the closet.

It was like a shopping spree, with old friends, friends who had gotten misplaced, forgotten. Yet, room to breathe, too. Lighter. A good feeling, freeing myself from some clutter in my life.

With the car full of treasures I no longer wanted, I headed off to the recycling truck, leaving a month’s worth of old news behind. The quiet whoosh of piles of newspaper sliding into the town’s mound of last month’s news mixed with the steady rain that had moved in, another sense of cleansing, renewing.

The second hand store guy eagerly helped me unload the box of old vases, bottles, and lamps, and my garbage bag of clothes.

“This will really help us out,” he said. “We were getting low on men’s clothes. And, this pair of boots will help someone get ready for a job.”

He didn’t mention the other bag, filled with about three dozen ties. I’d kept a half dozen of my favorites, ones I might wear to a wedding, or for a special evening out. But, ties were part of my old work life, and whatever lay ahead didn’t include a huge selection of neck nooses. All those ties would fit in better in the men’s section of the thrift store, and out of my closet.

My cleaning and purging project was gaining steam. It was a part of being alive in my community, making a contribution, being of service. I drove away feeling tieless and unburdened.

The second hand store would be making some money off of my cleaning project. And, the truckload of newspapers would be sold soon, putting money into the hands of a local service club, and spent on scholarships for kids’ field trips, or feeding the hungry, or some other project that needed some cash.

My next stop was all about me. It was time for a visit with my acupuncturist, some “me time”, part of my inside work this month, getting me settled down and moving on with the next step in my life.

“Retired”, that is my status, I guess. It is what people ask me about, in the grocery store line, or at the post office. For me, it is a renewal, and a time of self exploration, the next phase in life.

I am not idle, and I do have a new schedule. For once in my life, what others want of my time is not much of a priority, and “empty” days are filled up nicely, thank you very much. Including this day, this day of cleaning and purging, and time with the acupuncturist. This renewal work is right on schedule.

Already, eating better, without sugar, exercising vigorously most every day, spending more time with my music and nature, even some good hours on the river bank, fishing for more than just the elusive steelhead on a sunny, cold January day, were already making my jeans a big baggier, and giving me deeper sleep.

Yet, I’m a work in progress, and I still need to put one foot in front of the other, and move ahead with my life, cleaning out my closets, in every sense.

Soon, I was lying down in a warm and dimly lit room, as the acupuncturist did her magic, finding just the right places to stimulate some of my pressure points, and move my energy around, cleansing, renewing, reinvigorating.

The Chinese call it “Qi” or “chi”, the universal life energy force that flows within all of us, the foundation of all of our creativity, and our very essence of being.

Western thinking would want me to analyze it, measure it, describe it, and test out various theories of what is and what it does. And, my analytical mind is drawn to such work.

Yet, instinctively, I don’t go there. This is something to simply acknowledge, to honor its existence in myself, as a fundamental, essential aspect of my very being, and be accepting. I need to put my Western mind into idle, and simply lie here on this table, in this warm and safe room, and be.

Now, I need to remind myself that I am a human being, not a human “doing”. This is not the time or the place to “do”, but, instead, to just be, be in the moment, to accept this gift, and to let my chi flow. What is, simply is.

This is “me” time, “being” time.

Soon, all the needles are in place, stimulating and opening up gateways and paths. I feel the current of energy flow through my body, along all the paths. This is dynamic, the current and the sense I get from all of this changing, moving, within me, and of me.

I breathe in and out, feeling the leaving from me of things I no longer want, “stuff” that is cluttering me up. Darkness and crud and the dust bunnies of my internal being leave me, in each breath, in each awareness I have of the chi circulating within me.

Soft Chinese music plays in the background, something I am sometimes aware of, and sometimes not. The real music is in this flow of energy, and in the breathing in and out.

This is closet cleaning work, too, getting rid of the old newspapers and unworn clothes cluttering up my life, and my soul. All that “stuff” is going elsewhere. I am done with it, and moving on, carrying a lesser burden.

I lie here in a halfway world, half awake, half somewhere else not of this world, the music and my breathing and the sense of this flow of energy being my metronome for this space I am in.

Purging, cleaning, throwing away, putting in order, getting lighter; this is my task for this day.

1/25/2013

Equality


by Neal Lemery

“We holds these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal…” — the Declaration of Independence.

Treating people the same; equal opportunity; equal protection; one man, one vote.

Equality is in the Constitution; it is a paraphrasing of the Golden Rule. We like to think our government works this way, that our community lives this way. It is not just a principle of law, but a basic essence of our culture. It is a personal moral tenet.

Our spiritual saviors and our holy scriptures call us to not just give lip service, but to live this ideal of equality, as the word of God, divinely inspired.

We are confronted by reality, however. The reality of poverty, of discrimination, of
disparity among classes, races, genders, ages, sexual orientation, the powerful, and the powerless is here. Every day, we reap the harvest of anger, of hopelessness, and fear. Bigotry and fear are big in our culture. Most of the time, we sidestep these, and move away into easier issues.

“Them” and “us”. It is neat, and tidy, and insidiously easy to teach. The dichotomy is the instigator of war, and the fuel for much of our social woes.

This week, our newly re-elected President boldly proclaims that we should aspire to a society where anyone, regardless of their sexual orientation, should be free to love, and to marry. He asserts that such freedom is a fundamental, inherent right of any person. He reminds us of those “equality words” in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and in the depths of our humanity.

After all, we have taken great strides in incorporating other classes of people into our society: women, people of all races, youth, the mentally handicapped. The acceptance of women, people of all ethnic groups and religious groups is now, at least, part of our laws and public policies. We pay lip service to such acceptance, and many of us, in our actions and our beliefs, do not segregate others from our lives.

The President has changed his mind. He has changed his perspective of what freedom and equality mean. In the last two years, he has given great thought to these issues, these questions. As a lawyer, as a politician, as a Black man, as a father, and as president, he has weighed the questions and wrestled with the debate. And, now, he takes his oath of office with a hand on the Bible of Lincoln and the Bible of Martin Luther King, and boldly speaks his peace. He leads us into change.

Equality. Of course.

It seems simple and profound, like most great ideas.

In nine states, gay people can now freely marry. In the last election, voters in three states decided the issue, saying now, in their states, marriage is open to all. The government will not restrict your right to marry the one you love.

Yet, I cannot find any newspaper stories relating the predicted chaos in social institutions and communities where these marriages now occur. In these states, gay marriage is not a disaster, not a major event, but commonplace, accepted, the norm.

If we read our country’s most cherished legal documents, our most inspiring speeches, the essence of our assorted holy scriptures, there is no debate. Of course, loving others unconditionally, and being free to love the one you love, without barriers, without caveats, would seem to not be debatable.

Not that long ago, I recall church burnings and lynchings, and the police dogs attacking civil rights marchers in the South, and how Black people couldn’t go into some places in my home town. And, women not being able to do some jobs, and hold public office.

And I remember the day the Supreme Court said that White people could marry Black people, that such a right was part of our Constitution, and it was a remarkable event. And, when Black people voted and went to college, and won elections, and women could work where they wanted and live fuller lives, the world did not end. Chaos did not ensue. And, lives became richer. Some walls came tumbling down, and life became a little more equal for all of us.

Young people gawk at me in disbelief, when I tell them of these things from my youth and early adulthood, of the cross burnings and lynchings, and voters taking out the racist language in my state’s constitution. It is, perhaps, ancient history, and yet, that fear, and that divide between “them” and”us” remains. Such fear, while it is ancient and deep seated, lives among us today.

Yet, we are deeply divided, even angry about whether or not people of a different sexual orientation than ourselves, can have the same rights, the same freedom. People cling to their readings of scripture, their own fears and doubts, keeping the barriers to accepting others raised high.

“Not here, not in my family, not in my community. It is not the Will of God.”

Yet, the neighbor, the person next in line at the grocery store, maybe even your son may be “Them”. Other discriminations, other segregations are easier. The color of skin, one’s gender, one’s language, they are easier to spot in the crowd. This category of “them” and “us” is harder to see, harder to root out. Somehow, it digs deeper into us, into our sexuality, into topics not prone to rooting out over coffee with a friend.

Are we not all human, are we all not endowed by the Creator, as having certain unalienable rights, to pursue happiness and liberty, to love, and be loved? Are we not entitled, as human beings, to enjoy families, to raise children, to be part of our communities, and be free from prejudice and not being labeled as someone apart from the norm?

Are we all not children of God?

“What would Jesus do?,” is an oft-asked question, used by those teaching morality, and instilling good parenting and decent morality in the lives of our children and in the affairs of our community.

Indeed, what would Jesus do? I have not found His views on homosexuality in the New Testament. Yet, His Sermon on the Mount and His other teachings speak of loving others unconditionally, of finding acceptance and brotherhood. He spent his time with religious outcasts, prostitutes, the poor, the sick, and politically impotent. He berated the money changers in the temple, and spoke extensively of forgiveness, acceptance, and love. He honored marriage as a celebration of love and partnership, and performed His first miracle at a wedding.

Love. It is found in your heart, and not in the color of your skin, or in your genitalia, or in how you seek to understand God.

In other faiths, there are profound teachings of love and acceptance, brotherhood and community without conditions. What would Jesus do? What would Buddha say? What would Muhammed preach? The answer seems clear.

I also look back to my youth, in spending time with my best friend. We shared our lives, our schooling, our hopes and our dreams. We would hike the beaches, and explore the forest, going through life and growing into men. We shared deeply, as best friends do, of fears and doubts, and what type of men we wanted to be.

Years later, when I had settled down a bit, he came by to visit.

“There’s something you should know,” he said. “And, its about me.”

He told me then that he was gay. He had stumbled through life, sorting things out, running away from himself. There were the stories of alcohol and drugs, of anger and loneliness, and broken relationships. There were the stories of fear and despair. There were stories of acceptance and love, forgiveness and healing. And, at last, relief and honesty.

He was coming out, and he was proud of himself.

“This is who I am,” he said. “And, now I know that about me. And, I want you to know, too.”

We hugged and cried, rejoicing in his acceptance, and in my acceptance. We rejoiced in his healing, and him finding his rightful place in life, and in finding a partner he could truly, and honestly love. That was what we had dreamed about, and that was what we talked about, deep into the night, around the campfires of our teenaged years, looking for love and finding our rightful place in the world.

Honesty. Best friends being honest, going deep, accepting each other for who we were. It was a rich gift he gave me that day. It was the best gift.

It was a day of freedom, and liberation. It was a day I would want everyone to experience, deep in their heart.

Would I not want the same for my son, or my neighbor’s daughter, or for the barista at the coffee shop, or the person next to me at the grocery store? Don’t they deserve to be loved and to love, to be with someone they cherish and adore?

And, shouldn’t that love be celebrated and embraced, by all of us? Isn’t love, unconditional love, and sharing all that that is with each other, isn’t that why we are here in this world?

Isn’t that really what equality is?

1/22/2013

Reaching Into My Heart


I sometimes wander through life oblivious to the impact I have on others, and the impact they have on me. I get caught up in my routines, and work and chores fill up my days. I lose focus on what I am really all about and what I am here to do and to be.

A few weeks ago, I received a gift of love and thanks from a young man I’ve been spending time with.

He’s not had it easy, and often feels his life is on hold, that he is stuck for a while, not able to move ahead. But, the work he is doing, real soul work, is shaping and honing him into a beautiful person, filled with compassion and love. In that, he is successful and brilliant, and wise.

He is a student, and becoming the teacher. I should thank him for being an inspiration to me, to being my friend, to allow me to come share time with him, and watch him grow. He has taught me much, and he has given me much joy and satisfaction. He’s let me sit in the front row, when he walks out on the stage of life and pours out his heart.

He’s written a song, a bit about me and what we are together, but it goes so much deeper, and wider.

When he sings me his song, and puts to music and words, and, yes, into love, his feelings and emotions and gratitude, I am moved. I feel loved. I feel appreciated, recognized, validated. But, most of all, I feel loved.

Love. That word is hard for him. It is also hard for me. When I was a kid, I didn’t hear that word much, and I floundered around with what it meant to me, and how important it was in my life, or not. This inner turmoil festered in me for many years. I rejoice that the dragons and monsters my young friend has called out, named, and wrestled with. In his journey, he is farther down that trail than most of us.

When I hear him struggle, I hear my own struggle, my own uncertainty, my own grief for not knowing love, for questioning what life is all about, and what I here to do. We grieve over death, and loss. Yet, for me, the hardest grief is not knowing love.

Being able to express love, and to fully accept the power and the satisfaction there is in life when unconditional love is a practiced value, is much of the story of my life.

My friends’s song says you love yourself and you love me. It brings all that love-not-spoken dark dialogue back up, again and again. The song felt good, soothing some long time aches and pains, and holes. When he sings, some old, musty dark holes in me get filled up, and I feel warm, complete.

I’ve had a lot of hungry young people in my life, and they all struggle with that love word. We all do, and the search for that feeling of completeness and acceptance often takes a lifetime of tears, yearning, and struggle.

There’s a lot of running away, in life, from love, being loved, and loving others. We run to self medication, self deprecation, self loathing. We push others down or away from our own needy hearts, just so we don’t have to accept love from ourselves and love from others.

If we are loved, then we must be worthy of love. And, that is really hard, to feel worthy of love, when those we respect and admire have told us we really aren’t worthy of love.

I get all of that. I understand that, and I’ve lived around that and in that. That dilemma, that agony, that need, all of that also is in my life, and my world.

I’ve learned that love has many meanings and many dimensions. Love is like the sparkle of a diamond, and each sparkle in the light has a different nuance, even a different meaning entirely.

I don’t need to hear the “love” word to know that there is love. I am old and wise enough now to just know that love is there, without calling its name.

His song is all of that. His song is from his heart. And, that is the gold and the diamonds in my life, and in his life, too.

He knows all this, and he knows it in his heart. And, when he sings it to me, I cry, and in seeing my tears, he knows he has told me what he wants me to know.

My friend reminds me I need to go deep inside, and call out the dragons and the monsters in my basement, to rummage around the dark forces in my life, and find my own emotions and strengths. In that tough work, I rediscover the treasures of unconditional love.

I hope he realizes that his words, his music, his expression, and his acceptance and his savoring of what he does in all that, is not only a gift, but it is a treasure that he already knows that he has. In that, he is blessed.

When you can accept love and when you can give love, when you can share your real loving self, in all its facets, you are truly blessed.

— Neal Lemery 11/10/2012

Dealing With Death


Dealing With Death

“How do I deal with this? a friend asked the other day, as we talked about the death of his friend, at a very young age.

And, I don’t know. I’ve lost friends, relatives, people I work with, neighbors, people I’ve admired, so many people in my life. After all that loss, you think I would have figured it out, and knew the answer to his question.

But, I don’t. I explore my relationship with God, I contemplate the Universe, I search for my place in the world, who I am, where I am going, my own death. I sometimes I think I have answers, but I also still have questions, big questions.

The questions nag me in the middle of the night, or when I have a thought reminding me of a loved one who has died. The other day, when my friend asked me this question, his eyes tearing up with his pain and his loss, and his quest for the answer to his question. My usual full bag of advice and counsel didn’t produce a ready answer.

Great poets, great writers, great artists, great theologians, and me and my friend keep coming back to the pain, the questions, the wondering.

Some say there is a plan. Yet, the work of the angel of Death seems chaotic, haphazard, completely random.

I can have a rich, yet fleeting, conversation with someone close to me, and then next thing I know, I’m sobbing because they are suddenly gone from my life. Or, I know they are dying, but I am still not ready for that phone call, telling me their time has come now, and not when we had thought. What I want to be rational and reasonable is never that, not when I’m trying to understand Death.

Death always screws up my plans.

I’m never ready for it, never ready for the news, the loss, the stumbling around that I do when someone close to me departs this world. I’d like to think I can manage death, but I can’t. Oh, I’m practiced in helping to plan funerals, and even saying comforting words, and helping others out. I’ve mastered the legalities, and sometimes, I think I know the spiritual “final answer”, but not really.

I’m really not very good at all this, and the dark void in the pit of my soul still aches, and I still cry out my laments.

Sure, I move on. I go forward. That is, after all, what we have to do in this life. And, I like to think that part of that person’s goodness and spirit lives on as a spark in my own self, and that their love and their goodness is part of the tapestry that is my life and my work in this world. And, yes, all that is comforting.

Yet, I still don’t really know what to do, how to “handle this”, and to move on.

I can sit with my friend, who mourns and weeps, and let him know there is love and kindness and compassion left in this world. I can offer that and let him take what he needs now, to ease the bleeding of his own heart, and the void of his own emptiness.

Perhaps that is enough, that empathy and compassion. Perhaps that is the humanity I can offer, and how we can all try to deal with Death and loss, and our own sense of righteous abandonment and anger.

I can live my own life well, with few regrets, and with passion and zeal. Then, when it is my time to leave here, those who are left behind will have seen all that in me, and find some strange form of comfort in that, knowing I lived well and full, and that love remained strong in my heart, for all to see.

—Neal Lemery 10/26/2012

Local Beauty Secrets Revealed


Local Beauty Secrets Revealed

I’ve always wondered why the farm women in my small rural town are so beautiful. I’ve speculated that it was the hundred inches of annual rainfall, or the mist from the large cow manure sprayers that perfume our air, even the faintly salty breeze off the ocean.

But, now the holy mysteries have been revealed.

On our way back from the weekly grocery store pilgrimage, we were commenting on my choice of shampoo I bought today.

“I’m just ready for something different,” I said. “Time for a change.”

My wife agreed, saying that a friend of hers, a dairy wife, recently gave her some new shampoo for her birthday.

She purchased it at the local feed store, apparently the local rival to Paul Mitchell, Revlon, and other boutique beauty supplies.

“It’s ‘Mane ‘n Tail Shampoo’,” my wife said. “They use it on horses, and it makes the horses’ manes and tails shiny and voluminous.”

“Yes, I could see why one would want one’s horses to have shiny and voluminous manes and tails,” I said.

“The dairy wives, too,” my wife replied. “They use it themselves. And, you can buy it in bulk at the feed store.

“I’ve used it, too. It does a great job,” she said, adding a loud horse snort and neigh.

Struggling to keep the car on the road, our laughter filling the car, I barely made it home and rushed to my computer. With a quick Google search, I found myself on the Mane ‘n Tail website, looking at all their equine beauty aids and glorious testimonials.

Nothing from Mr. Ed, or this year’s winner of the Kentucky Derby, but lots of rave reviews from satisfied customers, all apparently now displaying voluminous hair.

And, then, I discovered another product, one my wife now also wants to try — Mane ‘n Tail’s Hoofmaker. A happy customer wrote:

“My nails were in very bad shape. I started using Mane ‘n Tail Hoofmaker and saw a difference in one week. I’ve been using it for a month now and love it. My nails are no longer brittle and breaking.

“–M.R., Fresno, California.”

No endorsements yet for any oats or hay, or the Triple Crown Diet on the website. But, I bet they are working on a special nutritional supplement to keep one’s coat shiny, and heal saddle sores. I’d be interested in that.

A Letter to My Young Friend in Prison


A Letter to My Young Friend in Prison

Dear ____________:

It was good to go deep with you today.

As always, I found you working on several difficult issues, and moving forward with all of them. You have healthy goals, and you have worthy dreams. You always do.

Young men worry about who they are, and what they want to accomplish, and what is their destiny. And, actually, we all worry about that. At least, I do.

I don’t always count my blessings, and I can worry about things that I have no control over, or things that turn out to be pretty insignificant. I struggle with feelings and emotions, and I get myself tied up in knots about things. Another young man I know calls that “catastrophizing”. A good term for that “tie my stomach in knots” feeling.

So, when you struggle, and doubt, and worry, you are not alone. And, when you see some people and situations in your life that need some fixing, and things aren’t getting fixed, that is normal.

Each of us can only fix ourselves. We aren’t the mechanics for other people. We don’t lead their lives. And, we aren’t the boss. Well, we are the boss of ourselves. We do have the ability to direct our own lives, and to manage our own affairs. And, what other people do and what other people might think of us — well, not much we can do about that.

You are a normal guy. You have normal worries, and normal doubts and normal insecurities. You get frustrated when relationships and other things don’t get “fixed”. That’s normal.

I see you accomplishing a whole lot. Certainly more than most 21 year old men I have known. OK, you are in prison and you don’t have a lot of “freedom”. Yet, you have done a great deal of hard work in getting your own house in order, and healing yourself. You have educated yourself a great deal about who you are, where you come from, and who you want to be.

Most young men haven’t done that. Most young men haven’t laid out the high moral standards and ethics you have set for yourself. The work you have done has been very valuable, and very important. I think you see that, sometimes. In a few years, you will see this time as a very rich, and a very valuable experience.

As you do your heart work, know that I support you, and I believe in you. I am grateful you have this opportunity, to know yourself better, and to gain information which will lead to even more self discovery, and to more healing of whatever wounds you discover.

Part of that healing work involves forgiveness.

I hope that you are doing some forgiveness of yourself in all this. Forgiveness is a very good gift to give to yourself. It is part of that struggle you have with accepting a gift.

You want to “pay off your restitution”. “Restitution” means “to restore, to put back”. Part of restitution is forgiving yourself. That will be harder to do than sending money off to the State. But, more rewarding, and more freeing.

You are doing all of this work for the right reasons: self understanding.

Most every time I leave prison after a visit with you, I say to myself “Wow. I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

A lot of the stuff you talk about that you have experienced, well, I think I might just want to find a dark corner and pull a blanket over my head, and slip away into a bit of self imposed craziness.

But, you don’t take that cheap route. You dig in and work through the crap that you have to deal with sometimes, and you get it on. You sort through it, and you do what is needed to be healthy, and sane, and whole.

You may think you don’t get much support from other folks on what you are going through and what you are doing. But, you do. Your Team is out there, cheering you on.

I try to be a good cheerleader, a good support person for you. I don’t always do a great job, and I often don’t have the tools and the pompoms and the special cheerleader cheers that work for you. But, I still show up and I still cheer you on.

I believe in you and I believe in your journey.

And, you teach me more about courage and decency and character than anything else in my life.

I thank you for that, from deep in my heart.

Sincerely,

Neal C. Lemery