Friday, December 21, 2012

Crash Landing


As some of my regular readers may realize there are recurrent themes in these ramblings.  One of the most persistent is what to do about loss and impending loss.  That this is an issue for a sixty-five year old retiree is not surprising.  What also may not be surprising is that my attempts to answer this question have, for the most part, been strained and muddled.  The fact is there seems to be a myriad of approaches to coming to terms, answering?, dealing with? the issue of loss.  The approach I embrace at any particular time is more a function of immediate reality than some eternal truth.

Case in point.

I spent  much of the past month working to bring a car to my daughter in Tucson.  We had a 2003 Sentra which my wife and I agreed we wanted to give this very brave and gifted but currently financially challenged offspring.  I had new tires and a new stereo installed and spent five days driving the car to Arizona.  I spent several wonderful days with my daughter who deeply appreciated the gift.  It was a big step up from the bicycle she was using. This past Sunday she called us and tearfully reported the car had been hit in the middle of the night while it was parked in the street outside her apartment.  The driver didn't stop and the car, which had no collision insurance, was too damaged to be worth fixing.  The police said they'd keep a look out for a vehicle with a damaged front end but gave her little hope.



She was very upset but described the process of dealing with the loss as a "spiritual exercise."  So would I.  But I guess the point I'm trying to make is I'm not as sure as I've been in the past about what the substance of this exercise should be.

Acceptance of loss and impermanence as norms not an exceptions is a beginning step that still feels right.  Sure nothing lasts,  try to stay in the present, appreciate the moment etc.  but that doesn't help very much with the anger I feel about the fact that someone hit the car and then left, leaving my daughter to deal with the aftermath and that once again she'll be bicycling on busy city streets. The parent in me wants to protect her .

Maybe another loss I have to accept is my role as a parent.  She's not a child anymore.  We've done pretty much the best we were able.  She is making life choices that are putting her well outside the mainstream and  beyond many of the traditional sources of security.   She is courageously trying to live life as authentically as possible.  I deeply respect this but it scares me. 

So she's back on her bicycle and  the work and money that went into getting the car to her is lost.  My role as a protective parent is, for the most part an anachronism.  I end up feeling, once again, that there's not much more to do than to suck it up, accept these losses as par for the course and try to live life from moment to moment with an open heart. Meditation, exercise, eating right, drinking less, writing this blog, working to find friends and community, and seeking out art and beauty also help. I think that I should also try to forgive and feel compassion for the person who ran away after the accident.  The anger/resentment is a poison not worth carrying.

All of this is not a clean fix by any means but it's the best that I've got at this stage of the game.

So I continue to go forward struggling to accept the inevitability of loss, still thrilled to be part of this journey of sorrow and joy called life. 

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Sandy Hook Elementary School Tragedy

This week a twenty year old man walked into Sandy Hook elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut and killed 20 children and six adults.  He had three guns with him. The one that was used the most was a semi-automatic A-15 assault rifle.  A type of gun that used to be banned in this country.

The horror of children being murdered is beyond words. Two moments in the aftermath of this tragedy stand out for me. In both a leader took on the burden of trying to speak of the unspeakable.  President Obama's speech at a Newtown memorial and a sermon given by Douglas Taylor at the Sunday service of the UU church in Binghamton were able to capture the deep sorrow felt by so many but each also gave glimpses on how we might move positively forward.  I am grateful to both of them.

Here's a link to the president's address in Newtown.

Douglas Taylor's sermon has not been published on the church website yet.  When it is you can find it here.  The title of the sermon is Faith in Hard Times. It was presented on December 16, 2012.

Another part of the service that had a deep impact on me was a reading of a piece entitled "Gratitude is not enough" by Elizabeth Tarbox.  This is a meditation taken from her book Eveningtide.Meditations.  It was selected and read by Libby Anderson.  Here are the last two paragraphs...

"Well, I refuse to lie down and be good.  I will not heal up neatly, sutures in a row, no scars. No I will not. I will shout out that I am here and hurting and I will demand of life that it return my shout decibel for decibel. I will speak of justice and kindness and beauty and truth and I will try bravery though I am a coward, and I will honor wisdom though I am a fool.

I will find other broken people with divinity shining through their pain, to remind me that the human spirit is hard to defeat, that the world is young yet and we are just an idea, that love is not for ever, but a little love once in a while is worth the risk of keeping the door of your heart wide open.  And I look for goodness and know it when I see it, and I see it in you and your children and you dreams.  And I can never be grateful enough."

Here's to all the broken people who continue to get back up and let their spirit shine through their pain.




Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Leonard Cohen/Grace/Art


I'm becoming more and more convinced that art is an important way for me to find harmony and balance when things get crazy. To help me feel less lost even though I don't know where I am.

Leonard Cohen has helped a lot recently. His artistry gives substance to the ineffable. The previous blog entry has a link to an interview where he talks about grace.

LC: well im bothered when i get up in the morning. my real concern is to discover whether or not if im in a state of grace, and if i make that investigation and discover that im not in a state of grace i try to go to bed.

Host: what do you mean by a state of grace? that's a phrase i never understood.

LC: a state of grace is that kind of balance with which you ride the chaos that you find around you. its not a matter of resolving the chaos as there is something arrogant and war-like about putting the world in order but having that kind of an escape ski, down over a hill, just going through the contours

Host: you have lost me

Here's the link to the video clip

So I write this as an encouragement for me and, perhaps, for you,  to invest more in the production and appreciation of art.

I'm not sure what I'll try to produce. I've written songs in the past. Maybe painting or poetry. This blog rarely approaches artistic expression but I think pushing myself to write on a regular basis will help me become better at expressing myself effectively. 

 In terms of appreciation I've found that memorizing poems and song lyrics can be a great avenue for deeper understanding and engagement.  I think I will commit to learning one Shakespeare sonnet and one Leonard Cohen song during the next week.  I will also explore going to the art museum at Cornell.

One thing I've written lately that I like is a prayer I included in the “psychodoodle” blog a month or so ago.

 Here's what I wrote...

Deep power in which we exist
May your guiding light
Help us grow joyfully in unfolding grace;
Live with an open heart;
Dwell in wise silence;
and
finally
once again,
Find
Our eternal home.

Works for me.

It's exciting opening up a door and not knowing what's on the other side.  I hope it's not a pit bull.

Beware. Ferd, the artist, is rising.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Retreat Review Review


I'm not happy with my recent blog entry about my not so great retreat experience at Springwater Center.

 I 'm mainly unhappy with thy style but also with some of the content. When I was writing it I felt like I was riding a powerful horse while constantly pulling the reins to keep it in check. Why was I trying to hold it back? What was I afraid of? Loss of control? Anger?  This is complicated.

Lot's of stuff going on. I was embarrassed. My pride was hurt. I felt I had squandered $560 of our limited retirement money. Sure, Springwater shouldn't put unsuspecting people in the situation I experienced, and I think I clearly told them that. But both in the restrained writing and in my ongoing struggle to integrate this experience into my life I feel I'm missing something. There's something going on that keeps me poking at the wound. There's a discomforting restlessness that is demanding attention. I guess that's been a baseline feeling of most of my life but it's been more pronounced since returning from Springwater.

I have a suspicion that the issue beneath the issue may be that the ideas I was exposed to at Springwater represent a fundamental challenge to how I view how I fit in the world...a serious challenge to my assumptions, values and ideals. (I'm not sure these are the right words here but they're in the ball park).

Maybe my ten page tome about Springwater was nothing more than my defensive reaction to the challenge “meditative inquiry.”

To tell an idealist, as Toni Packer does , that “ideals are worthless,dangerous, blinding, hindering. And we constantly build them up and take our refuge in them,” is a challenge of the first order. How could I not be defensive? The trouble is I get her point. It makes sense. But I don't agree with it. I want to live in the moment devoid of conditioning and limiting concepts but I also believe it is important to make my moment to moment decisions about how to live be based on values and ideals not solely on the immediate reaction I'm having to the moment.

So again life raises it's paradoxical head and I'm trying to find my bearings. I'm getting too old for this.


Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Springwater Center Retreat Review




December 1, 2012


On November 10, 2012 I left my home in Endicott N.Y. to attend a seven day silent meditation retreat at Springwater Center. Springwater is about an hour south of Rochester and about a two hour drive from Endicott. This center was founded in 1981 by Toni Packer and many of her supporters. Ms. Packer was trained in Zen but decided to leave the traditional forms of Buddhism “to work with the essence of meditative practice – attending to what is happening within and without, in the immediacy of each moment.” I had attended five prior Buddhist-oriented retreats and found them to be wonderfully enriching experiences. I was looking forward to the deep peace and sense of communion that extended silence and meditation had brought me in the past.

Three days into the retreat at Springwater I found myself driving home on a dark, cold night.. I had left the retreat center deeply shaken – feeling angry, embarrassed, disappointed and misled. How could something with such promise go so wrong? Equanimity and tranquility turned upside down. Where should I place the blame? Who had failed – Springwater or me? What lessons can be learned? The following description and analysis of my Springwater experience is an effort to turn this disturbing event into a springboard for positive change for myself and, perhaps, for Springwater.

Institutions like Springwater Center are beacons of hope for me. They are places where people are given the opportunity to discover what's important and sustaining. I realize that they exist because of the dedicated, selfless, often difficult work of many people. I was at Springwater for three days. I met individuals who have been involved with the center for decades. I honor and respect the work they have done. I hope they, and others, are able to receive these words in the spirit of goodwill which they are presented.

In faith,


Ferd Haverly

This summer I decided to go on a meditation retreat. I had been struggling with post-retirement malaise and had found prior retreats to be very helpful. The centers I'd attended in the past did not have openings in the time frame I was looking for. An internet search led me to Springwater Center. There were openings for an early November retreat and I was encouraged by the promotional brochure which stated,

Our retreats are unique – there are no rituals, required beliefs, or assigned practices.
The spirit of retreat at Springwater is in being together in the simplicity and open space of silent awareness – in an atmosphere which invites wonder, curiosity, and inquiry.”

This all sounded pretty good to me. I liked the idea of going someplace that would not be promoting a specific tradition or belief system. I mailed in the $560 fee for the seven day event. I started reading material by Toni Packer, the center's founder, and looked forward to the event with enthusiasm and gratitude.

When I arrived at the center I was assigned to a room to share with two other men. The room and all of the center's public areas were attractive, clean and comfortable. There were fresh flower arrangements throughout. The location in the rolling hills of western New York was spectacular. Many large windows, comfortable chairs, beautiful views and an active bird feeder. All very inviting. The center's staff was friendly and helpful. My expectations were high.
I was surprised to find that the retreat was not full and that only three of the approximately 25 retreatants were attending the center for first time. The other two retreat centers I've attended regularly fill retreats months in advance. 

The meditation sitting room looked out over a beautiful late fall landscape of brown fields, leafless trees and rolling hills. Meals were delicious vegetarian fare.

Overall the daily schedule was comparable to other centers I've attended. There were a series of timed and open meditation sessions. The timed sessions were usually one to two hours long with five minutes of walking meditation after each twenty-five minutes of sitting.
The walking meditation was much faster than I've encountered at other locations. The group would rapidly follow each other around a curving path through the sitting hall and dining area. The floor was a beautiful, highly polished pine and traction was tricky in my stocking feet. Maybe this fast walking is part of the Zen tradition from which Springwater evolved. I don't know. I do know that I found it an unhelpful distraction.

There were daily talks by the retreat leader, opportunities to meet individually with the leader and a daily one and one-half hour “dialogue” session.

During orientation I was told that the only two things I had to do during the seven day retreat was to remain silent and to do my daily chore. You were allowed to talk during daily “dialogue” meetings and private meetings with retreat leader or other staff. I was given the responsibility of cleaning the center's toilets. I thought about how pleased my wife would be to hear about my assignment and secretly wondered if this was a task given to “newbies.”

Retreatants were assigned specific sitting areas along the walls of the large square rooms and were allowed to sit any way they wished. About one third used chairs; the remainder sat on the floor. Some sat facing a wall or window. Others faced the center of the room. A large assortment of cushions were available.

There was no meditation instruction offered or given. I found this odd given that the center's brochure states - “we especially welcome people new to meditation.” In subsequent readings I found that this lack of guidance for new meditators is apparently a long-standing policy at Springwater. I don't understand the rationale for this questionable policy.

During my stay at Springwater I attended all of the sessions offered. The fact that every activity was optional made it more like “real” life. (Other centers had been stricter about attendance.) This liberal policy was a good reminder that personal responsibility and spiritual growth go hand in hand.

Meditation sessions went fine for me. As usual, it took several days for my body and brain to slow down and I found myself looking forward to the scheduled sittings.

The daily talks mostly involved a presentation of ideas related to Meditative Inquiry, a philosophy articulated by the center's founder, Toni Packer.

The following extended quote is from a talk given by Toni Packer in 1998. Ms Packer appears to use the terms meditation and Meditative Inquiry interchangeably.

One aspect of meditation is becoming intelligently aware of what we call our conditioning, our habitually unconscious or semi-conscious reactions toward each other and the situations around us...

Meditation is coming into intimate touch with our habitual reactions of fear, desire, anger, tenderness, or whatever, discovering them freshly, abstaining from automatically judging them good or bad, right or wrong...

At a moment of insight there arises a new sense of wondering: "Why do we live bogged down in automatic reactions? Is it the only way of relating in this world?" Will we be seduced into ex-plaining or philosophizing about it, or can we simply stay with what is going on in the light of the question? Genuine interest has a way of kindling energy to illuminate the ways of automatic reactions — for instance immediately getting hurt because of a critical remark, and instantly defending or paying back, and then mulling the whole affair over and over. This is the alienation, the conflict and suffering we all experience.

Sooner or later we may discern the palpable difference between just being here as we are, openly attentive, and the state of entanglement in a web of fantasy about being somewhere else. Can we directly experience this difference without a need to elevate or disparage either state? Every state of being speaks for itself.

The other aspect of quiet meditation is the wonder of coming upon that which is not conditioned, that which is beyond fantasy and remembrance. Sitting quietly, without desire and fear, beyond the sense of time, is vast, boundless being, not belonging to me or you. It is free and unattached, shedding light on conditioned being, beholding it and yet not meddling with it. The seeing is the doing. Seeing is change. It is not what is seen that matters, but that there is seeing, revealing what is as it is, in the light of wisdom and compassion too marvelous to comprehend.”

Ms. Packer is now in her eighties and no longer active in retreat programs but her presence was clearly felt. It seemed that many of the attendees at the retreat were part of the original group that followed her when she left the Rochester Zen Center. I believe that the current “teachers” at the center were personally selected by Ms. Packer to carry on her work.

The main issue that surfaced during my time at Springwater focused around the “dialogue” meetings. The center's brochure states;

There are opportunities for meeting and dialoging with one another, for hearing each other's insights and questions, and delving into the complexities of living and relating together. ..In this open atmosphere, there is space for wonder – we can listen and inquire without the constriction of outer authority.”

Very nice...but, in my experience, not true. I found that the dialogue meetings had a clear agenda and belief system at work under the guise of free, open inquiry. During the three sessions I attended, Springwater veterans appeared to be trying to apply the principles of Meditative Inquiry by asking probing questions about the thoughts and feelings expressed by others.

At the first meeting I made the mistake of trying to explain what I hoped I would get out of the retreat. I was taken aback by the response. It was made clear that any desire or expectation was wrongheaded thinking. It is not dealing with the here and now.

My opinion that serious behavioral issues such as addiction could be helped by insight but also by specific structural supports was questioned. It seemed that it was being said that all that was necessary was for people to experience fully the present moment. All other approaches to life were misguided. Fantasies and dreams that people took refuge in to avoid the reality of the here and now.

I agreed that being conscious of unhealthy conditioning is important...that it is important to be attentive and not react automatically to events. But when I suggested that, for me, there were some factors that persisted through time such as love and faith, that line of thinking appeared to be received as another example of deluded thinking. “Stories” that distorted reality.

The meetings had no clear facilitator and no guidelines for participation were offered. I was one of the few “new” people in the meeting. Terminology was used that I was unfamiliar with such as “shadow issues.” There were also seemingly irrelevant, personal questions regarding the professional background of me and the other center newcomer in the group. “Are you a therapist?”

I did not know what I was walking into. I had no idea my heartfelt expressions would be received with questions rife with judgment.

On Tuesday, the third day of the retreat I again decided to attend the “dialogue” meeting although I had been bothered from the beginning by the group process, tone and unacknowledged agenda. By the third day of intensive meditation I was feeling more open and expansive, but also more sensitive and vulnerable. I should probably have avoided the meeting but I wanted to fully invest myself in the retreat process and to try to avoid making a premature judgments.

The Tuesday meeting was disastrous. When I tried to explain my personal faith, after a woman had mentioned what I interpreted as her personal faith, my explanation was received with the question of “where is this faith?” and overall negative body language by many of the “veteran” participants. This was too much for me. I felt embarrassed and disrespected. I had taken the risk of sharing something deeply personal, something that has evolved over years of inquiry and practice. It seemed that my description of personal faith did not fit the the tenets of “meditative inquiry” so it was rejected. Disdainfully dismissed. This was beyond the pale for me..

I was left with the strong impression that concepts like faith, trust, love, desire, hope all were suspect. Ms. Packer talks of the “vast listening space of no preferences and no judgments.” These meetings were dominated by preference and judgment.

I do not believe these thoughts and feelings I have about the “dialogue” groups are fantasies or misunderstandings. I am not an overly sensitive person and have never left a retreat prematurely before. I have a great respect for the importance and power of group interactions. I have worked for years as a therapist and have led thousands of group sessions. I understand group dynamics and I believe I am able to accurately assess what is occurring. One of the guiding principles for all of my group work was deep respect for the thoughts and feelings of all participants.

I found a quote from Ms. Packer which helped give me insight into my “dialogue” group experience at Springwater. It is in the introduction to the work of this moment.
...ideals are worthless, dangerous,blinding, hindering. And we constantly build them up and take our refuge in them.”

This helps me begin to understand why my reference to “faith” was received the way it was. It seems to me that this rejection of ideals is a dangerous path which elevates personal spiritual goals above moral and ethical considerations.

I read one description of Meditative Inquiry as being a “contextless inquiry into the nature of reality and unsettling to normative human intelligence with its social referencing.” Unsettling indeed.

I am perplexed by the idea of a group functioning beyond concepts, ideals and conditioning. I'm not quite sure if that's possible. Especially if there are newcomers in the group who are not aware of, or in tune with, this agenda.

I tried, to no avail, to make the point in Tuesday's meeting that Ms. Packer's writings appear to reflect a “faith” that love, compassion flow from “insight.”

Insight reveals self-centered thoughts and images for what they are and when the truth of the “self” is laid bare “self” enclosing thoughts abate...Insight dissolves the capsule of separation. Only then can there be love and compassion.” - from The Light of Discovery

Before I left the center on Tuesday I tried to discuss my concerns with Wayne Coger, one of the retreat center leaders and teachers. I told him that the group was very disturbing and that was considering leaving the retreat. I said I felt embarrassed and disrespected by the interactions that occurred. He responded by telling me that the process was, in fact, “deeply respectful' implying that my feelings were invalid.

He then said he understood that it was difficult to have your beliefs challenged. He stated he remembered when he first got involved he was concerned that all his beliefs would be taken away. I was not asked to reconsider my decision.

This conversation took place in a hallway with retreat participants walking by. Mr. Coger initially tried to find a private room but the business office was occupied. I would have appreciated a chance to discuss this privately with him or someone else prior to leaving. If I had had a chance to settle down and process my feelings I may not have left.

I have been on six prior meditation retreats -five at the Insight Meditation Society in Barre, Massachusetts and one at the Vipassana Retreat Center in Shelburne, Massachusetts. All have been wonderful, fulfilling, inspiring experiences. I never felt I was having a philosophy/world view being imposed on me. I never felt my deepest convictions and beliefs were questioned. I always felt encouraged to find what worked for me and incorporate that into my life.

Much of my post-retreat research has involved trying to better understand the theoretical foundations of both Meditative Inquiry and the dialogue groups.

It appears that the dialogue group structure at Springwater is closely related to dialogue work of world-renowned theoretical physicist David Bohm. Interestingly, both Bohm and Ms. Packer appear to have been significantly influenced by J. Krishnamurti.

Bohm writes in “On Dialogue”

a thoroughgoing suspension of tacit individual and cultural infrastructures, in the context of full attention to their contents, frees the mind to move in new ways … The mind is then able to respond to creative new perceptions going beyond the particular points of view that have been suspended.”

This “suspension of tacit individual and cultural infrastructures” is obviously tricky business.
Bohm published a set of principles for “dialogue” that might be helpful if Springwater decides to develop group process guidelines. These are,
1. The group agrees that no group-level decisions will be made in the conversation. "...In the dialogue group we are not going to decide what to do about anything. This is crucial. Otherwise we are not free. We must have an empty space where we are not obliged to anything, nor to come to any conclusions, nor to say anything or not say anything. It's open and free" (Bohm, "On Dialogue", p.18-19.)"
2. Each individual agrees to suspend judgment in the conversation. (Specifically, if the individual hears an idea he doesn't like, he does not attack that idea.) "...people in any group will bring to it assumptions, and as the group continues meeting, those assumptions will come up. What is called for is to suspend those assumptions, so that you neither carry them out nor suppress them. You don't believe them, nor do you disbelieve them; you don't judge them as good or bad...(Bohm, "On Dialogue", p. 22.)"
3. As these individuals "suspend judgement" they also simultaneously are as honest and transparent as possible. (Specifically, if the individual has a "good idea" that he might otherwise hold back from the group because it is too controversial, he will share that idea in this conversation.)
4. Individuals in the conversation try to build on other individuals' ideas in the conversation. (The group often comes up with ideas that are far beyond what any of the individuals thought possible before the conversation began.)
- All of the above is from Wikipedia entry re Bohm Dialogue
In summary,

Springwater Center is a beautiful, physically comfortable facility staffed by people who appear sincerely interested in the weIl-being and spiritual growth of attendees.

I believe Springwater should provide new attendees with a full disclosure of the process and intent of “dialogue” groups. This should be combined with a clear set of specific group guidelines. Currently newcomers are invited to be part of a complex, difficult process without enough information. The use of these groups to apply the challenging and “unsettling” principles of Meditative Inquiry to personal expressions is inherently disrespectful to underinformed participants. This, as my experience suggests, can lead to serious problems.

There should be stronger group leadership. I believe this is necessary to maintain proper boundaries and explain and enforce guidelines. In the groups I participated in a clearly identified, assertive facilitator could have been helpful in minimizing judgmental responses and inappropriate, irrelevant personal questions.

Additionally, I think that it is important for Springwater to have a specific plan for helping someone having difficulty. This may already be the case but my experience suggests otherwise. I left the center in a very agitated state. Prior to leaving I attempted to reach out to a staff person for support. Instead of support I was told that my reasoning was wrong and my feelings ill-founded. I would have appreciated the opportunity to process my very strong emotions in a private area. In retrospect I feel it was a dangerous mistake to get into my car and begin the drive home in the state I was in. This was clearly my choice and perhaps the staff reaction I received was not typical but I hope in the future other people in crisis receive better support than I did.

Finally, Springwater apparently has a policy of not providing guidance to new meditators. I believe it should modify or remove language from it's promotional literature which says “we especially welcome people new to meditation.”

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Into The Fire

The Sun magazine is an important part of my life.  It is a monthly magazine of personal, passionate writing. that has survived for decades without running advertisements.  It's motto is a quote from concentration camp survivor Viktor Frankl, - "What is to give light must endure burning." It consistently publishes pieces that are raw and real.  Unvarnished truth right in your face.  The prose and poetry are joined with black and white photos that unfailingly capture the spirit of the words.

I think The Sun has greatly influenced the content and style of this blog.  It somehow has given me permission to try to go beyond my comfort zone (and probably the comfort zone of some readers) in my awkward struggle to find the right words to express myself.

I just returned from a weekend writing retreat sponsored by The Sun.  The promotional material for this event described it as a celebration of personal writing. "To write about ourselves in a way that touches others and reminds them of our fundamental connectedness we must be willing to take a leap - with all our passion, fear, and longing - into the fire.  And that fire is not just a metaphor.  Its as real as our own mysterious existence; as real as a painful moment that has broken, and maybe opened, our hearts."

 The retreat was at the beautiful Rowe Conference Center in the mountains of rural western Massachusetts. It involved "a weekend of investigating our lives through the written word."  These investigations took place via workshops run by authors who have regularly published in the magazine.  It also, for me, involved a lot of chatting, eating delicious vegetarian food and shivering in an unheated cabin I shared with three other men.

Since I'm such a big fan of the magazine, the Irish pessimist in me I was prepared for the weekend to be a let down.   Infatuation once again deflated by the weighty reality. I can gratefully report that my weekend with The Sun was not a disappointment nor was it a thrilling ride into literary transcendence. It was inspiring and fun but it was also work.  The apply-titled workshops involved a considerable amount of writing which does not come easy for me.  There seemed to be many participants who were serious, full-time writers.  I was amazed at and intimidated by the quality of material written by others during the workshops.

Most of my efforts resulted in unreadable pages of crossed out scribbling.  The one piece that I completed and volunteered to read was a simply written short account of an event related to my mother's death.  It was a deeply personal and disturbing disclosure about a situation I had never discussed with anyone.  It was written during a "Reader's Write" workshop.  Readers Write is one of my favorite parts of the magazine.  Readers send in short prose pieces based on a different topic each month.  In our workshop the topic was "Eyes."

The best part for me was meeting, and talking at length with, other people who love the magazine, both readers and Sun staff members.  This common interest seemed to make substantive conversation fairly effortless.

Overall, the retreat was a positive, uplifting experience.  I hope it will motivate me to work to improve the quality and frequency of my writing.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Prayer and Psychodoodle

Last night Dorothy and I went to the first in a series of five spirituality workshops at the Unitarian Universalist church in Binghamton (UUCB).  We've been going to UU churches off and on for about forty years and have attended the UUCB regularly since moving to the area last May.  The series we began last night uses the popular UU hymn "Spirit of Life" as a basis for spiritual exploration.  One of the exercises was to look at a series of  spirituality related phases from UU hymns and pick three to five of the phrases that struck/impacted/wowed you the most.  We were then asked to use these as a basis for  a drawing and also for a written piece.  The writing could be a poem, song, meditation, prayer, etc.  I believe both the drawing and writing were supposed to be more or less spontaneous expressions of  whatever was stimulated? by the phrases.

  Here's what I wrote...

Deep power in which we exist
May your guiding light
Help us grow joyfully in unfolding grace;
Live with an open heart;
Dwell in wise silence;
and
finally
once again,
Find
Our eternal home.

So I wrote a prayer.  And meant it. It feels odd how comfortable I am now with this previously shunned behavior.

I also found the picture I drew interesting.  I look forward to future sessions.


Monday, April 9, 2012

Resurrection Robin

File:Turdus-migratorius-002.jpg 

There is a window over the sink in our kitchen where I can look at birds while I do dishes.  Yesterday, on Easter morning,  there was a big, fat robin hopping in front of a blooming Forsythia. bush. The robin's classic head tilts and worm-grabbing thrusts are great fun to watch. I found myself singing some words from deep in my memory bank.

 "When the red red robin comes bob bob bobin along, along.
There'll be no more sobbing when he starts throbbin his old sweet song.
Wake up, wake up you sleepy head,
Get up, get up, get out of bed,
Cheer up, cheer up, the sun is red.
Live, love, laugh and be happy."

Cheer up, wake up, live, love, laugh, be happy.  It's what I've been working on  and writing about in this blog for the past year.  I went online and found out this song which was featured in the 1946 film, "The Jolson Story," was written by Harry M. Woods in 1925. Here's the link to all the lyrics.  And here's a link to an original Jolson recording of this great song.

In years past singing and guitar playing have given me great joy and comfort.  I haven't been able to play with much feeling for at least five years.  Every time  I'd try the guitar would feel dead in hands.  I couldn't make it sing no matter how hard I tried.  It's flatness matched my often deflated mood.  It was like losing a very close friend who could always cheer me up.

For the past three of four weeks I've been playing guitar again. It's alive and singing and so am I.  Hallelujah!

I'm not sure what happened but something has opened up.  I'm playing every day with already recallused fingertips.  What a thrill to have this friend back in my life.

The last lines of the song are..

"I'm just a kid again, doing what I did again, singing my song.
When the red, red robin comes bob, bob bobin along."

I am singing my song again and it feels great.

Live, laugh, love and be happy indeed.







Thursday, March 29, 2012

Who's left out and what's kept in

As I review my past blog entries I'm struck by several things.  One of these is the ongoing uneasiness I feel about the self-centeredness of much of my writing.  I have a strong feeling that it's just not right to talk about yourself so much,  especially when it's about deeply personal things.  So far this concern has taken a back seat to the thrilling satisfaction I get from finding the words to express deeply held thoughts and feelings.  It's like I'm on an exciting treasure quest.  I find clues here and there and every once in a while stumble upon something that  makes my heart soar.  Like seeing a new spring warbler or finding a patch of hepatica on a cold March morning.  And one of the most amazing things is that these treasures are inside me.  It's not that I'm a great prize it's that trying to create something from the heart,  which I'm trying to do in this blog, connects me with something bigger than me.  It's this connection with a  powerful, positive, mysterious, integrating force (God?) which somehow allows me to give myself permission to be publicly personal.  Hell, isn't that what artists do all the time?  If they're not putting their heart into their work I'm not interested.

Which leads me to the point I wanted to make in this entry which is that despite my semi-elaborate defence of soul baring there are things will not discuss here.  Namely, I consider my my family and friends out-of-bounds.  I have no right to bring my relationship to them or any of their issues to this public place.

That on the surface is an extremely reasonable and important boundary.  The problem is that my family and friends are an very important part of me.  If I am truly trying to use this space as a vehicle of personal expression and discovery how can this be done with fullness and integrity without dealing with the people I love?  The people that many ways define who I am and how I live my life?

I have no answer to this.  There are many things I'd feel it would be helpful to explore re  the people in my life but this is not the place. This isn't a diary or journal.  This is public.  Duh.  It's just that I feel like I end up putting on the breaks when I get into areas involving other people and somehow this seems to violate the spirit of what I'm trying to do here. There may be a way to play the edges on this issue which I haven't discovered.  We'll see.

All of this also raises the interesting question of why I feel the compulsion to do any of this publicly.  Why not just keep a personal journal where nothing would be out of bounds?

 I'm not sure I know the answer to this either.  What I do know is that I've been able to keep this blog going for awhile now and I've never been able to keep a journal despite numerous efforts.  Just knowing that someone else might read this and might take the time to respond is energizing.  The "why" probably has to do with wanting connection.  There's that word again.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Art Movement

I was just sitting in front of my computer screen, wanting to write something for this blog.  I was trying to be open to whatever wanted to surface.  And, almost involuntarily I typed.  "the other side of goodbye."

These lyrics by Warren Zevon have been floating in and out of my consciousness for awhile now and have surfaced in this blog before.(see Death, Zevon and The Wind written in January, 2011)

This is the full verse


Will you stay with me to the end?
When there is nothing left 
But you and me and the wind.
We'll never know till we try
To find the other side of goodbye
              - Warren Zevon The Wind


If something keeps coming to the top does that mean there's still work to be done with it or does it reflect a limited imagination?  Probably both.

We'll never know til we try to find the other side of goodbye.

These mysterious, evocative words make me feel almost the same way I feel when I look at a great painting.  I am overwhelmed with deep feeling but can't explain either the feeling or the reason it surfaced.

I remember being in the Prado museum in Madrid surrounded by some of the worlds greatest art but being deeply impacted by one painting in particular. The Portrait of a Cardinal by Raphael



     This cut and paste reproduction is a poor substitute indeed for the original.  The texture of the brush strokes and the deep crimson are significantly absent here.  Nevertheless, perhaps you can feel a bit of what I'm trying to say.  Which is more of a pondering than a pronouncement  Why do somethings grab us and shake us and not let go?  Are these qualities of attraction universal or only a reflection of some learned bias by the observer/reader?

Are Raphael and Zevon tapped into the same wellspring?

Probably.  What is that magic chord?  Where is it?

I will be forever grateful for art that touches my soul.  It seems to answer questions I didn't know how to ask and raise questions I'll never be able to answer.



Monday, March 5, 2012

Prostate Protestation

I've spent the past three days writing a response to an article that appeared in the local paper.  I found the process of doing this challenging but very satisfying.  It stirs up memories of how much I enjoyed being a media agitator in Phoenix.  Maybe there's a lesson here about finding my post retirement path. Here's the letter.



March 5, 2012

Editor
Press & Sun-Bulletin
P.O. Box 1270
Binghamton, NY 13902-1270

On March 2nd The Press & Sun Bulletin ran an article by Jennifer Micale entitled "Drive urges screenings for prostate cancer - Libous helps promote awareness campaign." 

The article announced the launching of the "I Turned Pro: Proactive on Prostate Cancer" campaign by Lourdes Hospital, UHS and state Sen. Thomas W. Libous. 

Prostate cancer is a major men's health issue and the goal of this campaign "to raise awareness of the disease, its diagnosis and treatment" is important and should be applauded.  My concern is that the campaign is strongly encouraging men over 50 to be screened by having a prostate-specific antigen (PSA) blood test.

I am a 64 year old male who has decided to discontinue having PSA tests.  My investigation of this issue has convinced me that there is a growing consensus in the medical community that PSA tests are, in most cases, not a good idea.  Current research is showing that, according to a recent article in theNew York Times,  "regular PSA testing does not save lives and can lead  to aggressive treatments that leave men impotent, incontinent or both."

In October, 2011 the  U.S. PreventiveServices Task Force (USPSTF)  issued a draft report   which "recommends against prostate-specific antigen (PSA)-based screening for prostate cancer. This recommendation applies to men in the U.S. population that do not have symptoms that are highly suspicious for prostate cancer, regardless of age, race, or family history. "

The report states that,"The evidence is convincing that for men aged 70 years and older, screening has no mortality benefit. For men aged 50 to 69 years, the evidence is convincing that the reduction in prostate cancer mortality 10 years after screening is small to none."

The report goes on to document harms related to screening and harms related to treament of screen detected cancer. 

"Adequate evidence also shows that up to 5 in 1,000 men will die within 1 month of prostate cancer surgery and between 10 and 70 men will have serious complications but survive. Radiotherapy and surgery result in adverse effects, including urinary incontinence and erectile dysfunction in at least 200 to 300 of 1,000 men treated with these therapies. Radiotherapy is also associated with bowel dysfunction."

The awareness goals of the "I Turned Pro" campaign are honorable and important.  Its recommendation that men over 5O receive PSA screening should be revised to better reflect the current state of medical knowledge.

Ferd Haverly
1609 Buffalo Street
Endicott, New York 13760

ferd@haverly.org




Friday, March 2, 2012

Holy Smoly!

Smoly?  Just feeling playful, that's all.  Not a usual inclination for me.  Playful. Hmm.  I feel a wellspring of playfulness starting to burble, gurgle. Quite a change of pace and tone from my more morbid musings. It probably has a lot to do with the Spring that is beginning to emerge.  Titmice, chickadees and cardinals regularly singing now.  It's only March 2 but the air is already alive with the sweet scent of rebirth.  Crocsues (Croci?), daffodils, and tulips are poking there brave heads out of newly thawed turf. Holy smoly indeed.
Black-Capped Chickadee

I saw a chickadee sitting on top of one of the birdhouses I put up last Fall singing it's Spring mating song.  Their plaintive, sweet song is similar to another favorite bird song of mine, the white throated sparrow. (The video link for the wt sparrow is spectacular.  It says more than I will ever be able to write here)

This Winter has been incredibly mild with very little snow.  I feel we don't deserve Spring.  We haven't suffered enough yet.  Why is it so difficult to expect and accept good fortune?  Maybe we'll have a monster snow storm in March to make me feel more comfortable.

To hell with old, nasty, negative thinking.   Here's to Spring springing!

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Putting your money where your thoughts are

Lying in bed this morning, waiting to get inspired to make my entrance onto terra firma, I was rethinking the thoughts expressed in yesterday's blog.  What was it about the Nietzsche reading that got me so jazzed up?  I've been stewing for months.  Feeling adrift, at sea, rudderless, etc. Not depressed necessarily, but unexcited, unmotivated, blah.  And here comes a guy who says, "A man never rises higher than when he does not know whither his path can still lead him." And, to ice the cake, this prestigious German philosopher backs up this assertion with a rather convincing line of reasoning.

Holy shit!   I'm not down I'm up!  I'm not lost, I'm found.  Friedrich, you da man.

Why should I feel validated and energized by the words of a 19th century philosopher who according to the short bio preceding the Sun magazine article...


"at the age of thirty-four..retired from is post as a professor...and for the next ten years led a nomadic existence, living in cheap boarding houses...all the while suffering poor health, experiencing nearly constant pain, and having limited human contact - conditions he saw as necessary to his work. (emphasis added) In 1889 he suffered a mental collapse in the streets of Turin, Italy, reputedly upon seeing a horse being whipped.  He never recovered, spending the last eleven years of his life in a semiconscious state.  He died in 1900. "

I think there may be more than validation going on here. It's nice to have someone suggest that my somewhat tortured quest for post retirement truth and meaning is an honorable, noble? pursuit.  But I have a sneaking suspicion that this warm and fuzzy afterglow of affirmation may soon be superseded by an uncomfortable call to principled action.  A dealers demand to ante up, to put my money where my thoughts are.

 Nietzsche's words earlier in the same essay provides an uncomfortable foreshadowing of the difficulty of making this translation. "...men are even lazier than they are timid, and fear most of all the inconveniences with which unconditional honesty and nakedness would burden them."

His own tragic life showed that the burden could go far beyond inconvenience.

I know I'm not ready to be unconditionally honest.  I used to try to make that my modus operandi but found it ultimately to be too self-serving at the expense of others. Nakedness is certainly out of the question at this late date  but a little more exposure could be a good thing.

In summary I feel Mr. Nietzsche gave me a pat on the back and somehow this is boosting my courage and energy to continue down the path even though I have no idea "wither (this) path can still lead." 

 Life can be so wonderful and fascinating at times.


Wednesday, February 29, 2012

"When death finds you may it find you alive"



The following quotes are from excerpts from Untimely Meditations by Fredrich Nietzche that appeared in the Sun magazine's November 2011 edition.

"There exists in the world a single path along which no one can go except you.  Whither does it lead? Do not ask, go along it. Who was it who said, "A man never rises higher than when he does not know whither his path can still lead him."


"But how can we find ourselves again? How can man know himself? He is a thing dark and veiled.."


"This is the means by which an inquiry into the most important aspect can be initiated; let the youthful soul look back on life with the question "What have you truly loved up to now; what has drawn your soul aloft; what has mastered it and at the same time blessed it?"  Set up these revered objects before you, and perhaps their nature and their sequence will give you a law, the fundamental law of your own true self.  Compare these objects one with another; see how one completes, expands , surpasses, transfigures another, how they constitute a stepladder upon which you have clambered up to yourself as you are now; for your true nature lies not concealed deep within you, but immeasurably high above you, or at  at least above that which you usually take yourself to be."

In the same edition of the Sun there is an extended interview with Michael Meade entitled "Your Own Damn Life" which also focuses on the importance of knowing yourself.."finding ourselves again."

He quotes an African proverb "When death finds you, may it find you alive"  and writes "Alive means living you own damn life, not the life that you parents wanted, or the life some cultural group or political party wanted, but the life that your own soul wants to live."

As the regular reader(s) of this blog know(s) this goes to the heart of my post retirement angst...what is "the life my own soul wants to live"?. Since retiring in May of last year I've been struggling trying to figure this out.  I, unfortunately, feel like I've made very little progress.   I was, however, energized and encouraged by both of these Sun articles, especially the sentiment expressed in the line...


"A man never rises higher than when he does not know whither his path can still lead him."


I'm not quite sure what that means but it inspired me enough to write this blog entry.  The first one in months.  That's something. 


I think in my next blog entry I'll try the exercise suggested by Nietzxche...


"What have you truly loved up to now; what has drawn you soul aloft; what has mastered it and at the same time blessed it?"  Set up these revered objects before you, and perhaps their nature and their sequence will give you a law, the fundamental law of your own true self. "


Stay tuned!

Post Script - I just reread some of my earlier blogs and came across one from 2010 which  I quote extensively from East Coker, one of the Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot. If the ideas above interest you at all I think you'll find Mr. Eliot's poetry worth reading.  Here's the link. to the blog.