Coyote Moon

Many have heard Coyote stories. Great wisdom resides in them for all who wish to seek it. The Trickster, as he is better known, has a way of teaching us in unpleasant ways. This particular totem came to me unexpectedly last Friday evening. Fortunately, no one got hurt, except Coyote himself. His messages are still ringing in my ears. I had been struggling with an issue that most of us share. The answer came to light in unusual ways. This is often the way of Coyote, drawing one in and then absconding with one's innocence. But, HEY! How would you get someone's attention?
My grandmother used to say, "Don't hide your light under a bushel basket." It was one of those things that if I heard it once, I heard it one hundred times. Often we forget things so frequently that no matter how much folks implore us, cajole us, or admonish us, we cannot seem to understand or change. This is one of my big issues, especially when it comes to healing powers with which I have been entrusted. As a young teen I started studying vitamins, minerals, and the effects of both shortfalls and abundance in one's diet. By the time I was out of high school, I had begun to study herbal remedies, their collection, preparation and use. I also learned about how to meet one's dietary needs through combining foods to get "complete proteins". During my vegetarian phases, it has been valuable and through food I have learned a great deal about diet and culture.
For some reason, perhaps because my closest family did not share my awareness of the value of nature's cures, I always discounted my skills as healer. Now Coyote knows far more than he lets on. My struggle had come to a head last week. Someone very close to me needed spinal decompression, which I have become adept at. I have provided relief to many who have had pain, and I was thinking of offering to do the maneuver for her. Then, my negative Ego kicked in and I thought of several "reasons" not to offer. In the end, she underwent back surgery because some fool told her that he knew best and she has very deep pockets. In the end I am happy that she found help in relieving her pain, but I'm still concerned for her because there are always risks involved in surgery, and she won't go under the knife until Friday.
Coyote, my teacher, showed up to remind me that the "reality" that I had forged, the excuses, the self effacement, the negative Ego are based on lies. It truly is time to grow into the potential that Creator has entrusted to me. Each of us is uniquely suited to offer the world something special. When we choose to make up a story that limits our effectiveness, only we can be blamed for the outcome. When we express fully our talents and skills, the world is made better for ever. The old saying about education is that a mind is a terrible thing to waste, but we need to look at squandering Creator's Gifts in the same way.
I can never reclaim the opportunity that I had to make a difference in that one particular person's life, but I can encourage you to reach out to others in similar ways, no matter what skills you have, share them. nothing can make a difference like the one we can make when we humbly offer to help. Step into the Grace that is afforded to all beings, get in touch with your own truth and sense of justice and compassion. Live in the now and miracles become the rule rather than the exception. I know this to be true, but bless the Coyote for reminding me when I forget!

Aquisition as Ethos

Our culture, in these United States, has become one in which commercials and jingles have their own special power over our thoughts and actions. Some people go so far as to watch the Super Bowl, "...for the commercials...". If I were to say, "Where Quality is Job One!", "Have it Your Way!" or "_____ Adds Life!" I might have to explain to a few what Corporation I was hawking, but most of us know it in our cells. Even logos reach into our subconscious and have literally changed us. The filing cabinets of our brain create relationships between these audio-visual messages and the territories that they use to get our attention. Sellers know that they have to sell you on more than just product, they sell experiences. Any product not promising more than it is worth won't stand a chance in competitive markets. Even knowing this intellectually can't save one from the onslaught. Hitting the primary emotional centers, images we see, hear and think about tell us that products being advertised will make us secure, healthy, rich, happy, vital well-adjusted and well-liked. Who wouldn't want that after all, it's just good sales. Being better than someone who doesn't have the product is just a spin off from the original theme. Even when the main competitor isn't mentioned directly, the implication is that those who make that choice are "square" or at least misguided. Even writing this passage is bringing on torrents of associations, we have been inculcated with. The most peculiar catch phrase that has stayed with me and will never be far from my awareness is "Hush Puppies aren't such a fancy shoe, or a phony shoe, they're just Dumb!" It was probably the shortest-lived ad campaign ever, but the images were great! It was from the time that the Japanese were kicking us with quality the first time, Probably, early seventies. Two Japanese guys in lab coats were inspecting the shoes with calipers and scientific instruments. After deliberation, they looked at one another, and the camera, in astonishment and declared, "We can make them better, but we can't make them dumber!" I still see the Hush Puppy logo and get a charge out of it. I even look at their shoes, even when I'm not shoe shopping, not caring whether or not they are my size, I just feel good looking at them. Multiply this effect by billions of people, thousands of advertisers, and in some cases, hundreds of purchases each day, and you begin to see a pattern being established. My intent in bringing this phenomenon up is to plea for it's opposite. Making decisions on the basis of value, (which I define as life-affirming) rather than the spurious intent of some executive in a far off corporate office, whose salary is determined by his ability to sell us thin promises. As you might expect, I see this as life-denying. Let's try a concrete example: Confronted with natural thirst, we need water to live. Do not succumb to the opinion that you should have sugar-laced brown liquid to make you anything. You are, endowed by your creator with a propensity to slake your thirst, that alone is a great gift. Sanctify that by giving your body the most pure water that you can find. One caveat, I do not want anyone to drink Distilled or Reverse Osmosis water exclusively. The first because mineral supplementation is required, and the energy footprint skyrockets and the second, because it is extremely wasteful, flushing many gallons of water away for the tiny fraction used. This one decision has greater effect on your ability to be healthy, secure, rich, etc. than any sugar water you can find! The choice of fresh and pure water will profoundly change a whole series of other choices that will come along. What we call into our lives has great resonating impacts that ripple out across the landscape. Again, staying with the drinking water example. Carrying a re-use-able vessel that sates our thirst over longer periods can have it's own, often unseen effects. The energy used creating a stainless steel container is equivalent to the energy in about 2000 plastic bottles! Associated with the steel or aluminum, are impacts like mining, refining, transport, etc. The plastic on the other hand has the specter of oil in it's past, can leach chemicals into our drink, and present special disposal problems. Even when recycled, there are transport costs and energy requirements that follow from our decision. When burned, plastics release toxic compounds. We can follow the fate of each and every item that we use if we take a bit of time to think about it. Pre-cycling is probably the surest way to make an impact on lives around the world in a positive way. This is making choices on the level of where they come from, what they do, and where they go in the end. My own water container will get recycled when it is no good any more, but I can't see how it could fail in my lifetime. I suppose that I could leave it sealed and full in freezing temperatures, but I guard against those things conspiring against it, and it should last indefinitely. I'm not encouraging everyone to go back to animal bladders, just to take the time to think about yourself as deserving of the recognition that you are good and whole already, without the packaging du jours, the "swoosh" of Nike, the Lightening Bolt of sports drinks, or the red of Coke, red,white and blue of Pepsi, or any of the tools of psychological bondage that are proffered up by corporations that try to make us buy anything! There is an annual Buy Nothing Day, I urge you to make that day today! It can have an incredibly liberating feeling to not buy anything for just one day. Instead, use the time you would waste shopping researching the best choices that you can make when you put your next dollars into the marketplace.

The Crux of the Bisquit

I am often flabbergasted by the daily goings on that I am made aware of through my senses. The crazy, crazy way humans seem to fumble about with love, life and their challenges never seems to run amok in quite the same way twice. On top of that, the media will spare no expense to bring us death, disaster and mayhem, served up in outrageous sound bites and streaming bit torrents of data that astound. In these times, there seem to be no end to the complexities of "modern life" and understanding our environment seems to get more difficult by the day. One can see the drive to return to a simpler way of life exhibited in many ways. It seems that our urge to recapture many of the old traditions, values and ways is running a neck and neck race to invent the next big thing, or solve crisis X,Y or Z. Like the animated character who hovers over a chasm for a few seconds, their limbs grasping at thin air, churning the void, or perhaps presaging their impending demise, we humans are prone to become unable to "grasp", "just spin our wheels" or otherwise incapacitate ourselves when faced with seemingly insurmountable challenges.
The change that we need is not going to come from any "single bullet" theory, it won't be through adjusting the mix of foreign aid to social service funding. It can not come from legislation, regulation or indoctrination. It must come from how we make peace with our own selves. The "logical" approach which has been taught in schools ad infinitum cannot overcome the desperate pain wreaked on our souls by the unjust and cold reality that is projected to our retina by our telescreens. Nor can our emotions exclusively save the day. What is needed is a path that honors and respects what is, and that rewards incremental changes that benefit others as well as our selves. In nature, there is no waste. The top dogs never take more than they need, unless their excesses provide others with plenty as well. With a life out of balance comes the topsy-turvy effect of rapidly advancing and quickly receding issues that alternately require all of our attention and utter ignorance in rapid succession. At the heart of the matter lies the fact that we must stay grounded, or none of our efforts will have any traction.

We are standing at the brink of awareness, holding desperately to what worked in the past. However, "all good things gotta come to an end" as the song said. What has provided the butterfly security and protection through most of it's life must be discarded if it is to fly. We are now required to leave our own chrysalis. Well-known to many are the concepts of Power and Control. These two players disrupt any real advancement of the human condition. We, as a people cannot grow or achieve anything without abandoning these toxic by-products of by-gone days. Revisionist historians are finally allowing us to recognize that our past was not fundamentally a series of wars and dramas that played out as innate human greed, inhumanities and hostilities. Instead, we can look a little deeper and see evidenced back through the ages, the enduring compassion, unconditional love and innate power of humans to live in service to others, reveling in their success, rather than our own.
Time and time again throughout our past, human beings have given of themselves without seeming limits. Trying to carve out a better life in the face of adversity. Power and control are both illusory. No one deserves either being exerted over them, nor can we develop fully when either is part of our reality. The human organism is no more suited to these beliefs, processes and activities than fish are to being astronauts. It has come to pass that all that served us well in the past needs to be thrown out. Father knows best was only the title of a show, it was even tongue in cheek. It will not be easy to overcome "I'm the Lord of my Castle" thinking. It is, however, necessary and the time for waking up to the facts has come. Growth can only come as the seed hull dissolves. Letting go is never easy but the rewards have never been as great either!

Lies, Rammed Down Our Throats

Is there no responsibility in the media? Is there no conscience? It seems that any idiot willing to let the cameras roll can be a "source" of information these days. The thinly veiled lies that confound us at every turn are fabricated by a tiny fraction of the population. The media's urge to record pent up frustration flowing out with no concern for anyone, anything, or even the truth has led us to see the position of the few as ubiquitous among the public generally. This too is a lie.

As Jay Leno painfully documented last week on his program, there seems to be a standing wave created by using the mantra, "crammed down our throats". Especially as it relates to health care. When I was in journalism, and learning about the field, we were taught that we had a responsibility to the truth. As painful as it can be, the fourth estate has a responsibility to the public that is every bit as important as the Judiciary, Congress or the President. When everyone else wants to look away from our problems, the lies and deceit that they are based on, or the fallacy trumped up and trumpeted as the "public good", truth, good reporting and the honest facts are the only thing that can sway public opinion and give us the necessary cohesion and leverage needed to reign in excessive power in Washington.

Our local television news, (I saw it on CBS, but other stations had the same raving lunatic on as well) had on a congressman who claimed that the US has the best health care in the world. Now, when we are rated at 37th in the world, why would he lie like that? Because it doesn't fit the mantra. The lie that is being perpetrated upon us is that we don't need change. I don't begrudge the congressman his fallacy, but to treat it as truth or news is a violation of our right to good information. There is nothing wrong with having worse health care than Morocco, Chile and Costa Rica, but don't hide behind ignorance or spout lies designed to help your biggest contributors.

We are all being played here. The lies are being perpetrated by special interests. Our interest comes last in their scenario. In our old understanding, the Republicans were supposedly supportive of "small business". Those who could see through the veil of lies understood that only the well-heeled elites held the real power, but the ramshackle underdogs, the little guys who create the most jobs in our economy were unaware, or at least okay with the fact that big dogs run things. Business thrives in an environment of stability and loves the security of hard numbers that can be calculated, ultimately figuring into prices that we all pay to keep them afloat.

Spiraling health care costs have done more to undermine American business than any other factor. Some insurance premiums have more than doubled in the past year, most have jumped 1/3. Oddly enough, insurance providers have nothing to do with actual care. In fact, they often complicate the work providers do and subject the ill to undue scrutiny, aggressive sales tactics and unreasonable limitations on what they will cover, passing huge debt and liability on to those who thought they would be covered by their policies. Businesses cannot adjust their operations to this volatile, and often hidden cost of doing business. The loss of productivity and profitability associated with this one factor requires employers to either stop offering benefits to workers, or to build their empires on shifting sands.

The majority voted for Obama because we wanted change. When the leaders of the past were making bad decisions, we were told "America, love it or leave it." Progressives were painted with a broad brush that implied that we were "Reds", "Commies", "pro-gay", "Anti-family", "Tree Huggers", or worse. More than two years ago, I told all the inspired people who wanted to vote for Obama, "You may really want him to win. You might even get to vote for him. He might even win the election, but after that will you have to fight for him." The sleazy back room deals and the lack of real change only becomes our own fault if we let it continue. Shining the light of truth into the dark corners of government is the only way to rid us of the oppression perpetrated by the current power brokers and their minions. If we do not demand the truth, we will continue to get lies.

Don't let the beneficiaries of "business as usual" cram another lie down our throats. Universal coverage is needed to make sure that we can all get the care we need at a reasonable cost. Remember the old adage, "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." It seems that drug companies, insurance companies, and Republicans are the only ones opposed to the positive changes that would come from reform. Access to preventative care for everyone would do the most to improve the health of all Americans. Billions could be saved by just learning how to "get healthy" instead of waiting for crisis before intervening. After a heart attack is not the best time to eat better. Once you have diabetes, exercise won't help as much as if it were a lifelong practice. Learning what we can do now to avert a crisis later on is not only cheaper, but less traumatic, more therapeutic and more fun than what we do now. The current system assures that we all remain complacent, ignorant and sick. Health care has just two words, Health and care. What we have now is disease, with an astounding lack of care.

A Friend of Mine Was Murdered

A friend of mine was murdered.
Her husband planned it out.
Not her husband really, it was only her ex.
He planned it so that friends of his,
would be the first to respond.
He sat there over her body.
And smoked a cigarette.
Waiting for his friends to come.
So he could surrender to them.
Hand them the gun.
He had planned it all for months.
Making sure of every detail.
Parking a few blocks away.
Hiding in her garage.
He thought the claim, "Crime of Passion"
would let him fly free for his deeds.
Instead he is sentenced to life in prison,
but it won't bring her smile back to me.

At first, I sat in stunned silence, not wanting it to be true.
Then I grew restless, knew just what I had to do.
I would tell the world of her light,
cut down in it's prime.
I would fight the urge to hurl.
I would create a petition and get everyone to sign.
One to demand that those we trust, to serve the public good,
Are scrutinized with a microscope,
found to be free from hate and incapable of lies.

Then I found my way into the dark heart of her mate,
I hated myself for his rage, disgusted by our inhumanity.
I felt compassion for this weak and deranged creature,
who shot the object of his desire. Unable to see her truly.
Unable to fathom her depths, ignorant of her true worth.

I waxed and waned between wanting him tortured, killed,
and forgiving his senseless act.
No punishment can change the horrible loss of love that's felt
by all who know her name.
There remains an emptiness inside of me that "life in prison" cannot fill.
I only hope that in good time, her killer will regain, the part of himself that
went away when he stopped seeing someone there, behind the image that he made,
Upon which he leveled his cold dark stare.

It would be odd I guess, if I didn't tell the rest.
It's not the only love I've lost to husbands that were deranged.
Not the one I loved the most, I loved her just the same.
For all the ladies killed by men,
I pray and beg and boast,
that some good men are out here still.
So don't give up the ghost.

Ladies, you deserve respect.
Don't tangle with those boys,
who treat you like an object,
like one of their little toys,
and don't you let them tell you things
that put questions in your mind.
Boys will always be a waste of time.
Search until you find a man, who will stand up to the boys
and take you in his loving arms and feel and share your joys.

Hazardous Air Alert in 50 of Wisconsin's 72 Counties

The massive high pressure cell that has been sitting over Wisconsin for the past week has filled with particulates. Colder, dense air aloft has acted like a dome lid on a ball jar and the relatively motionless bolus of air that is trapped near ground level has been filling with pollutants for nearly a week. This cell is expected to stay here through the weekend and may continue to influence our weather here until early next week. We are not told what to do to prevent this from happening again, although there are several that come to mind. instead we are told not to let our elderly, or the children to exert themselves. People with heart and lung ailments are encouraged to stay home, and even young and healthy individuals are supposed to curtail strenuous activities.

Today, we unceremoniously exceeded the EPA's limits on particulates over the majority of the state. Several days ago we experienced a "fog" so intense and localized that a few dozen cars crashed in two piles along the highway. I saw the steam over a local paper mill's sewage treatment plant blotting out the sun for over a mile, and the fog that blocked the view of the highway for the poor folks who crashed was from steam from either cooling towers of a local gas powered electric generating station, or a similar paper mill, upstream of where I live.

As long as we do not change, we will continue to have more and more frequent extremes associated with our weather, the climate and the ability of our earth to handle the types of abuse that we dish out. I have never understood why our system allows some to profit from the destruction of the ecosystem that we all depend on for our survival. The three dozen crashed cars will all be replaced by insurance companies, but the cause of the crash, man-made air pollution will remain below the radar of those paying the bills. The traumatized bodies will remain. What is the true cost of our action? What is the true cost of inaction?

I remember when the particulate levels would be exceeded in one, two or three counties. Back then, Capitalists across the state said immoral and ignorant things like "Who cares, that's where the Blacks live." or "Some pollution can't be avoided." Even today people will say, that's the smell of money instead of being outraged that they are being forced to breathe toxic compounds. Now, over half the state is covered by hazardous air and the next few days it will only get worse!
Some of us will never understand how some people made it out of Kindergarten without learning that their freedom ends where the other person's nose begins!

We have all heard the Reduce, Reuse, Recycle mantra, but the first and often the most important "R" is rarely mentioned. Reject. When thing are not re-use-able, re-cycle-able or it is difficult to reduce the use of said item, reject it. The time has come for us to act. We stand at a unique point in time where we can find a path to sustainability, or perish. Many of our resources, which I prefer to call Gifts from the Gods, have been pushed to the point of no return. The longer we wait to reverse present trends, the less likely we are to survive.

The most rewarding and spiritually enlightening part of trying to find a path to sustainability is finding out that even the smallest change can make a major difference in my quality of life. Each time I give back to Mother Earth, rewards follow, but often from unexpected places. When I take my waste oil in to the recycling station, I often meet other interesting people who encourage me to make life better in other ways. Taking a day to clean out the hazardous chemicals that were in my home when I bought it allowed me to learn about recycling fluorescent tubes in ways the reduce environmental pollution. Once the ball is rolling, it tends to gain mass and momentum. Each and every time I learn a new technique or method to reduce my "footprint" it becomes just another step on a long path to sustainability.

Communal Living: As Many Ways As People

I have lived in many communities (communes). Some folks I have lived with were closer, with relationships more defined. Other family groupings were less defined and some had even more loose associations, only sharing a philosophy, food, sex, a house, house parties or our cars, etc.
Being based on a Sicilian patriarch, our family had a communal meal every Sunday. Everyone was expected to help with whatever father (my grandfather) needed. When the garage became inadequate, all the sons fell in and worked togehter to move it and build the structure anew. When the bathroom needed to be modernized, the same thing went on. Everyone pitched in to help one another. Half a dozen men could be called on in a pinch, and their wives would fall in with their cooking cauldrons and rolling pins. Ravioli feeds entailed covering every flat surface in the entire home with little pillows of deliciousness. We ate to overfull and usually each family would receive a Tupperware container that would allow us a second meal at home. Work, food, blood and love bonded us together. Our rituals were established long before and were never questioned or revised.

It did not feel odd to move away into other communes, even when the ties were not familial, but rather social in nature. First we lived in a two family house where two divorced women and their four children lived. Whoever made it home first would be mom to all four kids. Meals were often shared, and we frequently divided the little that each mom could bring in. Even as children we would routinely play games that revolved around caring for our neighbor's children, learning first hand the concept of: mi casa es su casa. Even though we were broke, we never suffered from want.

Eventually spending time with my mother's family I found that mere familial relationships cannot guarantee success when living together. We shared homes, child care and food here as well, but not everyone gave of themselves willingly. I was suddenly aware of the "values" of power and control, but as I was unfamiliar with them, I always questioned the sanity of the whole situation. Even though I was loved in that setting, I could not help but feel like a chained dog. It confused me that people that I loved could be so childish. Sharing, to some of them, seemed to be a dirty word.

The hippy commune was weird but fun. We got a huge Victorian place and shared it by floors. Four families, one in the attic, one on the second level, a third on the ground floor and yet another in the basement. Food sharing went on a bit less, but entertainment sharing was almost constant. A house full of outsiders grows close in a hurry as a matter of self preservation. Luckily we had a mechanic among us, for everyone drove old cars. Several mom-like folks could handle whatever the children could create as far as chaos. Friends of friends and relatives from each of the families would come and go at will, taking or leaving children or groceries as needed. A couple
of arguments were worth mentioning. Once, as two of the residents were arguing loudly, one said, "I'm leaving...Wait a second, I can't leave I don't have any gas, you got gas?" Just as often, a fight would end up as a food fight across the kitchen table, however we were all so hungry, we didn't actually throw edible food, just the hard raisins from an old box of Raisin Bran.

When I got into Middle School and continuing through High School I began to see, and live in ashrams from different kinds of yogic disciplines. They were inevitably organized socially as communes. Shared resources allowed everyone to live a higher standard of living at lower cost and using less resources. One of the best things about larger groups is that everyone has distinct and varied expertise. More things are going on and rather than everyone doing everything there can be some specialization. The advertising guy makes the posters, the chef cooks, the teachers watch the children, etc. Splitting up the responsibilities are only limited by the creativity and commitment of those involved.

One of the coolest organizational things we did was at an ashram with thirty residents. Each day we would have two folks be responsible for our evening meal, and two people responsible for clean up. That required each individual to cook twice per month, once as lead, once as helper. By putting in two days per month on clean up crew, that left each of us free from cooking for three and a half weeks each month. The only problem that I saw was that you had to be willing to eat everyone else's food. One guy always made the same thing, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. His side dish was inevitably Green Beans with Campbell's cheese soup sauce. Some people really couldn't cook at all. We quickly made it a point to pair them with folks who actually could!

Another thing that we often did was to give families a little more privacy, having them share a room or suite. Single men slept in shared rooms with their own bathroom and similarly, the young ladies shared several larger rooms, again with their own bathrooms.

For a few years, our commune was made up of several houses, bound together by a band. Each of the heads of the households was a member of the same band. Economically, we all feasted together and experienced lean times together as well. All was not perfect, but there were carefully delineated rules of conduct and association that were in play. Spelling out details of such things as dating, spending limits and ownership of items purchased by the group saved much animosity when the inevitable end came. We all loved and helped one another, as much as we could. There was never a question that we all wanted one another to achieve success.

Throughout college I was always part of a commune. The art world, like hippies has a vested interest in sharing both liabilities and resources. Sticking together allows outsiders to find a bit of calm and security. I shared ideas, time, rooms, beds, girlfriends, boyfriends, liquor, cars, skills and green energy with many non-blood brothers and sisters as a matter of course. The few folks that I met along the way who decided to take unfair advantage of this openness were few. They confound me to this day. I still do not understand those who would screw over those they say that they care about. More often than not we would find ourselves sharing more intimately and fully than we thought ourselves capable of. It is often surprising how resilient and compassionate the human spirit can be. Sticking together through tough times seems to be part of our DNA.

I urge everyone to at least give living with others a try. Share as much as you feel comfortable sharing at first, then see what happens. I know that it isn't for everyone, but for those who can handle it, the rewards are great and the cost is only that you be willing to redefine your own limitations. We all know that there are people we couldn't stand for a minute. Don't try living with them! Make sure that if you want something out of the experience, let others know right away. No one likes to have things sprung on them after the fact. Be open honest and giving and it will pretty much take care of itself. We are a species that does best in community. Live like you mean it and others will be anxious to help. A long-time friend once said, "Do dishes, care for the kids and bake bread and you will always have a place to stay." As far as I know this rule is still in effect.