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Within Spitting Distance of Saint Peter [ Post # 52 ]

Watching an old rerun of “The Golden Girls on TV recently, the character Sophia used the phrase “within spitting distance of St. Peter” when referring to her age. So, here we are people in my age group, in this strange land of being near enough to the end of our life that we can almost taste it, see it, feel it, sense it, have an intuitive knowing that we are “close.” We can deny it but it’s there, none-the-less. We know our time is limited in a way we never felt before. A certainty. The evidence is all around us. I have outlived so many of my friends, as I have discussed in previous blogs. No way around it, “spitting distance.”

So, I have decided to delve into this area. I realize this is a topic most people prefer to avoid, in fact, most people do all they can to avoid. But as Tolstoy said, “If a man has learnt to think, no matter what he may think about, he is always thinking of his own death.” Hmmmm. I am not confining my essay to death, but rather this whole period of life where we realize that our own time is more limited than ever before. We always thought in terms of having decades and decades of life ahead of us, exciting and greatly anticipated life ahead of us, but one day we realize we are at what the world calls “old age” and we can tell, in various ways, that the “end is in sight.”

So, here we are. We have lived a great deal of our life. Has it been a good life? A so-so life? A miserable life, painful, sad, perhaps mostly unhappy life? I can only speak for my life. It has been a good life. but, as I have explained in my blog posts, there certainly were dark periods, difficult times in many different ways, but navigating my way through those times, my life has turned out to be a great life. I thank God for that.

So, this final period, what do we do? We know what’s coming. I personally have watched so many, (most, in fact) of my friends and co-workers pass on to the next world, whatever that is. I always am relieved it is them and not me, of course. Don’t we all think that way? Yet, we realize that our day is coming and it could be any time. Any time. Any day. Wow, are there things I have put off in life, unrealized dreams and desires and tasks? Relationships to be healed or completed or released?

Well, for me those areas are pretty clean and in order. No real problems in unrealized dreams. I have had a great time on this earth. Stumbled here and there at times as I said, but a great life was the result. Am I ready to go? Not really. I feel there is more to do. But at the same time I do live my life as if this may be my last day (my tagline on my Facebook page currently). I really do live that way every day, so in a sense I am ready but I am still very busy with my various projects and living a full life.

Many people I know seem to have a less happy life. As the seventeenth-century divine Thomas Fuller said, We are born crying, live complaining, and die disappointed.” Philosophers and moral essayists, tragic dramatists and unhappy poets all agree about this. So sad. So unnecessary, as I see it. Yes, there certainly are tragic lives, sad lives, and I have compassion for those lives. But so often the amount of misery is compounded by wrong thinking, wrong living, ignorance and stupidity, etc. Good and bad things happen to everybody at various times. How we handle those times, how we handle our thoughts and actions and whether we have a faith and spiritual presence in our life can make dramatic differences among us.

So, some people do keep busy right up to the end of life. I’m thinking of Alex Trebek, who worked right up to the end of his life doing what he enjoyed; he never took a “retirement.” And that is good for a lot of people. Great, keep doing what you love. For me, I’m keeping busy ((very busy), but not doing work I spent thirty-three years doing, working for a corporation. I desired a retirement and I made that decision when I was burning out. I feel that I made the right decision, for me. So, we are all individuals when deciding how to live out this last portion of our lives. I certainly do not believe there is only one way to do it. For me, retirement is the greatest experience. I’m doing things I’ve put off and discovered I want to do now. I am currently in the midst of studying philosophy and philosophers, a subject I pretty much avoided in my college years and now have a deep interest in, perhaps because of this final period I am in. Also, this is a period of some great travel experiences. I have always enjoyed travel (hence, my working in the airline industry), but now we are really enjoying the freedom of traveling a lot.

So, for me this is an exciting time. Doing interesting things. Including doing my hiking exercise, sometimes in the graveyard these days. I’m finding these hikes to be great times of deep contemplation as I wander among “the dead.” Lots of thinking about this “final period” of life. Together with my study of philosophy and religion, life is becoming more interesting, even if the real answers to the questions of life are always an elusive mystery. The journey is interesting, that’s for sure.

So, yes, I may be within spitting distance of St. Peter, but I’m not wasting this time being morose and fearing the end. Well, maybe we all fear death in a sense, but I do believe we can diminish that fear and be more accepting of all of life, including its end. We do have a choice how we want our life to conclude. At least we can be mentally, emotionally, and spiritually prepared to a great degree if we work at it. If we never deal with it, well, then it will “just happen.” I have had two what I will call DPEs in my life. What is a DPE you ask? Well, you’ve probably heard of NDEs, “near death experiences.” And you may have heard of SDEs, “shared death experiences,” where a person shares the dying experience along with the person dying, being a companion during the person’s transition to the next world. Well, I’ve invented the term DPE to describe the “death preview experience,” of which I’ve had two in my life. Very vivid experiences.

Hiking in the graveyard. Good exercise and good times of contemplation on life and the meaning of it all.

I touched briefly on, in a previous blog, my experiencing of “going to God,” or a type of “death preview” I had as a young child. I was going under the ether to have surgery to have my tonsils removed. When I went under the ether I had a strange experience that I can recall today exactly as it was sixty-some years ago. I felt I was going to God. Hard to put into words, but a very vivid experience. And then, in middle age, I had a drug-induced experience of going through the death experience. It was very real. I knew it was a preview of what dying was going to be like. A letting go of everything in life. I mean everything, it was a very real experience. Again, hard to put into words, but so real, I remember it exactly. All the feelings and the absolute release of all of life. The dying experience. Today, I realize I was given that experience for some purpose, a preparation for what someday it would be like.

I had one other strange experience burned into my memory. I was driving a car (not my own) , in the 1960’s, I was alone and traveling very fast, perhaps eighty miles an hour or so. Suddenly I lost control somehow and went off the side of the road and down a slope into a ditch. I was sure that this was it, I was going to die, there was no way to get out of this situation. But, somehow I got the car out of the ditch traveling at that high speed and got back up the embankment and onto the road. Finally, I stopped to inspect the car, sure there had to be some damage from all of this. But, miraculously, no damage, not a scratch.

So, I find the stories of NDEs I’ve read to be fascinating. And the stories of the SDEs I’ve read also fascinating. And these three experiences of “dying” or previewing the dying experience of my own, well, what can I say, they were life-changing.

Looking back on my life, I see that so much of life has been BS. We waste so much life being controlled and manipulated, coerced and sometimes abused by others. What really matters in life? Isn’t that the question of all philosophers, all philosophies, all religions? People get yanked around by their jobs, their bosses, their relationships and friendships, by society, by our culture. People give up their freedom and join groups, religions, cults, etc. Why? Why give up your God-given freedom? Life is short. Be free. That’s what I have come to see in this last portion of life, in my evaluation of it all, of life on this planet. That is what I have come to understand at this time of my life. This is the good life… freedom.

“Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that happen to a man”- Leon Tolstoy.

“Everybody has got to die, but I always believed an exception would be made in my case. Now what” – William Saroyan (on his deathbed)

“The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness” – Vladimir Nabokov

“Tell them I have led a happy life!” – Ludwig Wittgenstein (last words)

May my last words be like Ludwig Wittgenstein’s. I’ve stayed on my path and am having a wonderful life.

Wally

(1948 – 20__)

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Only One Way!

One of the biggest problems I have with this life is the thought, the belief, that “there is only one way.” This dilemma confronts me almost everywhere I turn. Perhaps the problem arises for me because I am an open-minded person (as I see myself), compared to many people I know. I see that in life, there are often “many ways” to think, many ways to live, many ways to believe, many ways to have a faith or a religion. Let me explain what I am talking about.

Most currently, we are seeing in the political realm right now a very divisive situation. The extreme right wing and the extreme left wing in politics see their way as the only way. There seems to be no middle ground any more in the political world. I have always seen myself as more in the middle, a centrist or a moderate in politics. Perhaps a bit left-leaning at times, but I have been open-minded. In fact, over the past thirty years or so I have voted for both major parties in presidential races. Yes, I have not voted a straight party line in every election. I study the candidate and make my decision from my investigation rather than vote the “party line.” I know everyone has good ideas and bad ideas, so I have to consider all that I am aware of. Many people I know do not really do that, they just vote the party line, which is often the political belief that they grew up with in in their family. Not always, but often, from what I’ve seen.

Another example of “only one way.” I grew up as most people do, believing that there really is only one way to live the good life, the normal life, the All American life, the Godly life or whatever. That correct way of living was to have attraction to the opposite sex, to date and find a “good woman,” (or “good man” for a woman), and marry and have a nice family with children. That really was the only way to live a “normal” life. That was the American dream, God’s way, etc. etc. There was no alternative. Those that did not marry, well, there was something strange about them. They were not normal not playing the role they were assigned by the Almighty. And I, of course, bought into this teaching from my youth. It didn’t even cross my mind that there was any other life to live than this “ideal” life. Once again, there was only “one way.”

Then, considering faith and religion. Oh, my . I bonded with the evangelical Christian movement and faith group in my teens. In that group there is only one way to live and believe. There are only two groups of people, the “saved,” and the “unsaved.” The saved go to heaven upon death, the unsaved to hell. And the only way to salvation, of course was the “Christian” way of accepting Jesus as your personal savior. Repent and accept Jesus and live for Jesus. One way, once again. And of course, if you were Catholic, the Catholic Church taught that they were the real, only true church, the only church. And don’t forget the Mormons, the Jehovah Witnesses. They think they have the true religion. And so on and so on for many other religions. Just “one way.”

To many, heterosexuality is the only way to live when it comes to love. Love, true romantic, physical love can only exist with the opposite sex. Of course brotherly love is allowed, but anything beyond that is not allowed. That’s how I was brought up. Same-sex attraction of course was a no-no, sinful, condemned, punished. Again, regarding love of a romantic, emotional, physical nature, there is only one way. No alternatives. Got to get with the plan, do the right thing, the only right thing. Get a good job, have a good marriage and have children.

So, when it comes to other cultures, other races, people different than us. Gee, does racism exist in this world? Do we think we are superior to other races, other cultures. You betcha! Need I say much about this subject? There’s only way if you are a white supremacist, only one “good” race. I was brought up with this way of thinking in my childhood environment and I rejected that way of thinking. I did not follow the racist thinking of my childhood of the 1950’s. It made no sense to me and I suffered because of my stand, being called nasty names because of the stand I took. I just saw everyone as a child of God and could not understand why there should be only one race.

So, this idea that there is only “one way.” I don’t accept it. I never really have. I won’t. It is closing your mind to reality. The idea that there’s only one way to live, to think, to believe, to act and react. That’s not how I live. I will never fit into that box. There are many different ways to live. Some good ways, some bad ways. But there are many ways.

I will occasionally tune in a Christian radio station when I’m in the car, just to see what they are up to these days, what they are “preaching” over the airwaves. And of course, they are pushing the conservative Christian idea that there is only one way a Christian should be. They assume any religious person is in alignment with their political views. Also their views on other topics. No room for opposing views. Very narrow perspective, very rigid beliefs.

Wow!

So, it’s not very popular these days being open-minded. It’s easier to just go along with the thinking and believing that there’s “just one way.” Sorry, that’s not for me, not on my path not part of my wonderful life.

Wally

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How Nature Has Guided Me To Glorify God [Guest Blog – Post # 50]

Once again it is my pleasure to have a guest blogger, my friend Larry J Thomson, share his recent essay on my blogging site. His subject, nature and glorifying God, fit in with my blogging theme of being on “the path,” and “it’s a wonderful life.” Enjoy.

By

Larry J Thomson

I woke up to the sound of a bird chirping somewhere in the giant Eucalyptus tree right outside my window. I realized I hadn’t heard the bird for a good long while. Previously, I woke to it every morning at exactly the same time, making the same sound. I wasn’t aware when it stopped being there, but this morning I wondered if the fact that the clocks just turned back one hour somehow made a difference. That the bird always came at the same moment, but my routine changed because of our manipulation of time. I lay there and listened to the bird for a while. Then the thought came to me that the bird was glorifying God, simply by being a bird, doing what birds naturally do. It was a sacred, enlightening moment. “That bird just taught me how to glorify God,” I thought. It’s so simple. Just be your natural self. Do what you love. Does the bird love hanging out in a tree, chirping? Apparently so. I also realized that by my lying there appreciating the bird, I was also glorifying God. For a moment, the bird and I were one.

I’ve always loved nature. Growing up on a farm, I was surrounded by an abundance of it every day. The farm animals were my pets, but I had to learn that some of them would someday be my breakfast or dinner. So I learned to enjoy the farm animals, but not get attached to them like I did my dog Trixie. My devotion to nature eventually led me to vegetarianism, and drives me out to the wilderness every chance I get, to hike, appreciate the sensations of sight, sound, and smell, and glorify God.

Once, I was hiking near Idyllwild, up in the mountains above Palm Springs. Supposedly, I was on a loop and if I just kept going, I would end up back where I started. But the longer I hiked, the more I wondered if I hadn’t taken a wrong turn somewhere. The hike was seeming longer than it was supposed to. But I sometimes felt that way on hikes, and the trailhead ended up being just around the next bend. Suddenly on the trail ahead of me I saw an animal jump across the path. It moved so fast that I didn’t get a real good look at it, but I swore it looked like a wolf. I know there are not supposed to be wolves this far south. But then maybe they are here and it’s just that no one has seen them. I’ve seen enough coyotes to know that it was too big for that. It wasn’t someone’s dog because as I stopped and waited, I didn’t see or hear any other people on the trail. I waited for a moment thinking, what to do? I knew turning around and going back the way I came was going to be a long hike. But I finally decided to give the animal, whatever it was, it’s space. I turned around to retrace my steps, looking back occasionally to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I hadn’t gone too far when I came to a fork I had missed earlier. As it turned out, I had ventured off the loop and was heading completely in the wrong direction. Back on the loop, I returned to the car. I paused and thanked the “wolf” for steering me in the right direction. Glorious Nature had taken care of me and prevented me from getting lost.

A while back, I was hiking in Griffith Park. I was taking a road less traveled with thick bushes lining a narrow path. Suddenly, I heard an unfamiliar sound. It was a clicking of sorts. I looked down and at my feet was a rattlesnake fixed between me and a rock. It was only a couple of feet away, and withing striking distance. It had nowhere to go and was curling and slithering back upon itself. I was wearing shorts and felt extremely vulnerable so I slowly took a step back, then another, and another until I was safely away. Then I turned and hightailed it out of there. The first thing I realized was that rattlesnakes don’t sound like they do on television. It wasn’t like shaking a baby’s rattle. It was like a clicking and hissing combination. It was creepy and it haunted me for several nights afterward. Even so, after some thought, I understood that by nature, it didn’t want to hurt me. It was letting me know it was there and would protect itself if necessary. I was smart enough to take the warning. Nature is at its most glorious when there is mutual respect.

Nature gives me so many pleasures. My favorites are the smells of daffodils and honeysuckle. They both grew on the farm, and now there are some honeysuckle bushes in the yards around my neighborhood for me to enjoy when I go for walks. I love the beauty of daisies, sunflowers and morning glories. I remember the taste of blackberries that also grew wild on the farm, and how we ate them as we picked them for Mom to make into cobbler. I delight in the feel of grass on my bare feet, a clod of dirt in my hand, and a cooling breeze on my face on a hot summer day. And as for sound; I love the silence of the Redwood forest or a pasture cloaked with snow on a winter day.

Speaking of Winter; there’s a song that goes “If I Ruled The World, Every Day Would Be The First Day Of Spring”. I once felt that way, but after years of being away from distinct seasons, I appreciate whenever I can experience them again. I love the beauty and uniqueness of each one.

And so here I Am. A unique and beautiful creature of nature, as are We All. As the bird chirps and flits about from branch to branch, so do I do what comes natural for me. And the more I Am able to be in that state of passionate, loving, natural awareness of being; the more I glorify God.

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Retirement – Aging – Passages [ Post # 49 ]

If you live long enough, manage your life fairly well (including your finances), and have the desire, you get to move on to a life of retirement dreams and hopes. When I was in the middle of my working life, the life expectancy of someone retiring was around three years. Not a great thing to look forward to, working hard your whole life and then just having three years free from work to enjoy retirement life and then death. Fortunately, today the prospects are much better. Life in the retirement phase is now much longer for most people. I am glad for that improvement.

I took retirement in my fifties, earlier than the norm for most people. I was burned out and was ready to be free from the usual working life. I was thrilled to retire. I had a fun career and enjoyed many benefits of working in the airline industry, but the last few years were a turnaround to where the job was no fun anymore and a great stress for me. So, time for retirement, freedom from going to work every day. Time to work on things I want to work on, and do whatever comes my way and interests me.

I was ready for retirement. I realize others are not ready for retirement or not prepared for being free of the working life. Some have made no preparation for the transition or even thought much about this big change in life. No matter how ready or not ready we are, it is a period of adjustment. I would say, for me, it took probably a year to feel really comfortable in the new environment. Several friends I know did volunteer work to help make the transition. I can understand that, but for me, that was not my path. I really loved not having to work every day. A few years after retiring, I did take on one post-retirement job, just for fun. It was a very unique type of job, one where I got to set my own hours and work days, only working when I wanted to. I was a “mystery shopper” for Safeway stores. I would go grocery shopping and write up reports of my shopping experience, noting employees that were doing their jobs in a commendable manner and those that were not functioning at their best in their “customer service” capacity. I also had to cause employees to go out of their way to handle certain situations, see if they would help me, etc. I got to experience this experience from the other perspective when I was an airline employee and we had encounters with “secret passengers” that would fly around the country and write up reports on the employees they encountered and rated how well they did their jobs. So now I have had experiences on both sides of this issue.

So, being retired and being done with the work-a-day world, that was my choice (except for the brief job with Safeway). Now what? Well, I have a very curious mind and always seem to have projects to work on . I do not sit around and get bored. Fortunately, I have a great home environment and marriage, so no stress, really in my personal life (unlike earlier periods in my life). We were now free to travel as much as we wanted and enjoy my airline travel benefits. We acquired a good timeshare system which had many timeshare locations that we loved visiting. Life was good! Life is good! Due to the current virus situation, we have had to modify our travels to do car trips instead of air trips and train trips. We, of course, are hoping that some kind of a normal life returns during our lifetime.

Speaking of our lifetime, that’s a subject that seems to surface a lot for me during these retirement years. This period of time being the last third of life, there’s a real awareness that the end is coming. A lot of time may be remaining, or maybe not. Who knows? The way I look at this situation is I figure that I may have twenty minutes remaining to my life, or perhaps twenty years. Who knows? Twenty minutes or twenty years. Hmmm, heavy thoughts to consider.

My cemetery hikes and contemplations

So, I work at keeping my body in decent shape by walking and hiking almost daily. One of the places I often do my hikes is the graveyard nearby that is nice and hilly. I get some exercise and I get to reflect on the deep issues of life and death. I mentioned in an earlier blog that in college I would climb the hill near my college and walk through the cemetery and contemplate life and what my life was going to be after I finished my education. So, cemetery contemplations is not a new practice for me. It’s just been a long time since I have done those practices. And my graveyard contemplations now are not about what my life is going to be, but now what my final period of my life is going to be about and reflections on what my life has been so far. The joys and adventures and loves I have had, and what it all means. Life is so short when you think about it, but that’s the way it is, isn’t it?

So, before you know it, you have aged. You have gone through the different phases or passages of life. You have survived a lot. Hopefully, you have achieved a lot and lived a lot and loved a lot. Or, maybe life has been a little less successful. Or even miserable and unhappy, perhaps. That can be sad, very sad. I think about these things in my graveyard wanderings these days. Look at all these graves, all these people who were alive for however long they had on this earth and did whatever they did. What kind of lives did they live? A million thoughts flood my mind as I study the gravestones. Who were these people? What would they tell me if they could? They were so alive, but now, they’re gone.

I have come to realize now that so much of life has been malarky. So much energy was wasted in life on such unimportant things. All the struggles and worrying and fighting and wasted life. For what? What is really important in life? I wish that I had more focus and intension and clarity in my earlier years. But, you know what? Life works out the way it works out. We learn our lessons, eventually. It just often takes a lot of time and energy that we could have avoided wasting.

So, I find that retirement is a time to try and do new things. Not a time to give up. Not a time to be bored. Not a time to be lonely. It is time to do those things you have put off during your working years. It is time to reflect of your life and appreciate the journey you’ve been on. Hopefully you appreciate your journey. It would be sad if you don’t. We all have our own paths and I’m very grateful for my path. It has been good. I have been given a long life. Many of my friends cannot say that as I have outlived so many of my friends. It has been a good life. I have been given time to reflect and appreciate it all.

Wally

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My Personal Experience with Mental Illness and with Cults [ Post #48 ]

It may seem strange for me to combine my experiences with mental illness and my experiences with cults in one essay. What’s the connection, you may say? Well, I’ll tell you how I see these two subjects and how they may be related, in my view. I am not talking from a professional or medical viewpoint, just a personal observation.

I’ve lived closely with two people who had mental problems. The first one was my mother. Yeah, my mother. When I was very young, her father died, and from what I gathered from my family members, she went off the deep end, as they say, and was never the same, normal person she was previously. As you can imagine, that had a major effect on me, having a mother who was a bit unstable and never knowing when she would “act crazy.” Yes, I knew she loved me, but how was I to understand her strange behavior at unpredictable times. I don’t feel like getting in specific situations, but believe me, some incidents were very shocking, unpleasant, and horrendous. Those years living in that situation affected my childhood and contributed to what I would consider my very dark, depressed time in my life. I was deeply depressed for years.

In preparation for this essay, I did a brief study of depression and I was amazed to find out some facts regarding the condition. I discovered that of all people who experience depressed times in their lives, about 50% of those people only have one episode of serious depression and never have a recurrence. The other 50% have a lifelong experience of depression, perhaps an on-and-off encounter with depressed periods or a continuous depressed state. I was glad to discover this, as I am in that 50% that just have a “once in a lifetime” encounter with that “darkness.” My depression lasted from my childhood through my teenage years, until I left home at age 18. I broke free from the darkness, never to return to it.

I do realize that that curse is always around, around the corner, perhaps, in the shadows, always ready to come and take me over, but I have through many long years of hard work managed to keep it at bay. I have developed new perspectives and experienced spiritual renewal on an ever evolving upward spiral, thank God.

Now, I did have another close, intimate experience with a person with what I would consider serious mental problems. Someone I lived closely with for years. He was an extreme narcissist, a constantly pot smoking, controlling, manipulative, “gaslighting” type of person. All the characteristics I see in a popular politician today. My friends also noticed the strange actions and behaviors of this person, which helped verify for me that I was seeing things accurately.

So, just like with my mother and my family, I eventually left this person and experienced a wonderful sense of breaking free of a psychological darkness and prison of sorts. I was never to become entangled in such drama again, at least in a personal way with any friends or intimates. I chose my friends and intimates very carefully after that.

Now, in regard to my experiences with cults. I see similarities with cults, people deeply involved with cults, and the people in my life who seemed to be a bit unstable in their mental thinking and behaviors. I’m certainly not saying everyone involved in groups that may be considered cults is mentally ill or anything like that, but I have found that people deeply involved in cult-like groups and leaders of these groups often are, well, not “normal.”

I was in a group of religious friends that followed certain “spiritual” leaders in an almost cult-like manner, which made me somewhat uncomfortable, but it was not really serious enough to be overly concerned. Later I did become involved in a rather popular “human potential movement” that was all the rage in the 1970’s. My close friend that I mentioned earlier (the druggie, narcissist) was getting heavily involved in the group and of course was manipulating me into getting deeply involved, also. I was involved for a while, but eventually I realized I had to leave the organization.

I was involved in the courses, the trainings, etc., but the time came for me to leave. I was becoming aware that things were not “right,” I had that uncomfortable feeling that I needed to exit the movement. One day I was on the phone with someone from the organization trying to get me involved in a course or something and I informed him that I was done with the organization.

Well, that did it. He lashed out at me and told me off, put me down, and told me that it was going to cost me my life if I left. He told me that I was “out of integrity” by leaving the “truth” of the movement. He said I would be in a car and would have a fatal accident, or I would board a plane and it would crash. The universe will get you, he was telling me. Wow, I thought they were cultish, but this was unbelievable. If I leave, I will die, I’m being told.

That was enough for me. Enough for being around mentally weird, mentally off or ill people and groups. Enough! I had to get out of these situations and become aware of such people and groups so that I lived a good, psychologically healthy life from here on out. I realized that I cannot be around these situations at all. I need to protect myself, set my boundaries, be strong and stand up to such abuse.

So those were my experiences with people and organizations that are not “normal,” a bit “off,” or even very much outside healthy and normal. My life improved immensely since then. No more mental sickness or depression episodes. I survived, I moved on and thrived!

Wally

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Sex, Drugs. Rock and Roll [ Post #47 ]

I’m a child of the 1960’s. Yep, graduated elementary school in 1960, high school in 1966 and college in 1971. Couldn’t be more a “child of the 60’s’ than that. My youth was right in the middle of the chaos of just about everything, or so it seemed.

The assassinations of President Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., Robert Kennedy, Malcom X, the Vietnam War, the Kent State killings of college students. What a time to grow up. Also, the drug scene, Woodstock, LSD, Free Love, The Woman’s Movement, Gay Rights, etc., etc. Talk about overload! Not a dull or peaceful moment. So, the phrase, sex, drugs, rock and roll may be a good phrase to describe the time (well, a friend said maybe disco instead of rock and roll).

And there I was, deciding to go to college and prepare for life, adult life. I remember reading a book years ago that said that the 1960’s just had to happen, as the world demanded a shift or a dealing with a lot of problems that were percolating in our society. I understand that viewpoint. Our parents didn’t see things that way, they were for the status quo. Just do what you’re told, behave. Well, that was not going to happen.

My college buddies in my dorm, just goofing around.

So, what am I to do? Lots of peer pressure to rebel and go wild and do everything. Be a hippie, a druggie, etc. Seeing some things going on now, it reminds me of those days of long ago. Demonstrations because of injustice, occasional violence. Everyone seeming to become irrational and taking strong, rigid positions on everything that’s happening. No middle ground, no seeing two sides of an issue. Horrendous name calling and shaming and hatred. Gee, been here before, it seems.

So, after having been through my own dark periods as a teenager, I finally decide to go away to college which I’ve discussed earlier in my blogs. Here I am in college trying to get a good education and a grounding of sorts to be ready to join society and have a family and career. And every day brings a new bombshell.

One big event happening then was the Vietnam War. I was in high school when I became aware of the conflict our country was in. In my photography class, my teacher had just returned from Vietnam on a photo mission of some sort and was all jazzed about his pictures shot in the war zone. He was full of excitement about the photos he had taken and proudly showed them to our class. I was a bit disgusted. Here’s this war going on and it’s not really making the news, so our country doesn’t even know what’s happening. And my teacher is excited and saying, “it’s no big deal, only 600 American soldiers and staff have been killed in this conflict.” Wow, I thought, what a way to view the situation. I was disgusted, as I said. My best friend was also in the photo class and he was totally unaware of the conflict going on in Asia. I expressed my disgust to him and he seemed surprised that I was so upset over all of this.

My first roommate in college, a good friend from high school and church.

So, fast forward to my college days. The war is big time, now, and there are many more deaths. I know of high school friends going to war and not returning home. Protests are occurring all over the place. I lose my college deferment because my draft board sees that I am a bit behind in my college education, having lost some credits when I transferred colleges from a junior college.

What to do? I am forced to take my draft physical. I am faced with possibly being forced to go fight a war I don’t believe in and be ready to give up my life because those in power say so. Kill and possibly be killed. I had never faced that dilemma before. I had to think this over very seriously.

The argument that communism would take over the world if we didn’t help the French fight the North Vietnamese was not logical, I reasoned. This was an unwinnable war as the government later admitted. So I took my stand, and I received a lot of hate from people. Even years later my boss at work warned me when we were talking about things that he had better never hear that I was anything but pro Vietnam War or I would pay dearly at my job with the airlines. Wow, threatening me over what I may have believed years ago about the war. Something totally irrelevant to me doing my job decades later. Wow.

Long story short, I did not get drafted (there’s a story there how I flunked my physical, but I did not claim “bone spurs.” Maybe in a future blog). But I learned a lot about life and how friends and family will turn on you if you don’t agree with them, if you think for yourself and stand up for your beliefs.

We had all the assassinations in those years, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Kent State killings of college students. Except for the Civil Rights Act, mostly a very dark and sad period. That time formed my philosophical stance and my religious/spiritual feelings that would grow over time to where I am now. So, am I intimidated now when people are upset with me for my free thinking mindset, even angry and hateful towards me? No way! I survived hell in my growing up years. No one knows what I personally went through at that time. I had to face all these situations alone.

Closest thing to a “love in” in my dorm. Lying on each other’s stomachs and someone starts laughing and passes it on till everyone is giggling.

Oh, yeah, as for the sex and drugs of that era. Well, this is not going to be a tell-all revelation of my personal life. Let me just say that I was not into the drug culture, although I did a little experimentation. Not for me. Some wonderful experiences and some rather bad experiences. And sex, yes there were “love-ins” all over the place but not my thing, although I was not a celibate priest either. The gay liberation movement was also occurring at the time, but I was so “in the closet” then that I was not aware of where I was on that question at all. So, a very complex, chaotic and confusing time to be growing up into adulthood. But that’s the way it was. That was my path. It has been a wonderful life even with all the events I’ve lived through.

My brother and father and sister came to Seattle for my graduation. Here we are (my sister taking the picture) at the top of the Space Needle.

Wally

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Prayer – The Prayer Life [ Post #46 ]

I’ve written about various spiritual/ religious topics (i.e. sin, death, etc.), so now I’ll tackle prayer and the prayer life. This is from a personal viewpoint, as that’s the only viewpoint I can really write from. There are many books about prayer, many teachers and many different beliefs about prayer from many different religious viewpoints. I’m going to be talking about my personal feelings and experiences regarding the subject. I will state up front that I see prayer life as essential to living a good, successful, psychologically and emotionally healthy life.

People in our society and culture often throw the word “prayer” around so flippantly that it is almost meaningless, as I see it. Everyone seems to be saying these days, “I’m sending thoughts and prayers your way,” and it just seems a nice cliche, a polite, not often real, seep sincere concern or intention to really stop and “pray.” Do most people who say “thoughts and prayers” really, seriously stop and follow through with action, praying?

Childhood prayers and the prayers we may be taught in a religious organization may be very superficial and rote that we don’t seriously consider what prayer is and how it can impact our life. I was taught the bedtime prayer, “now I lay me down to sleep….” Many friends have told me they, too were taught that one in their childhood.

That may be the start of a prayer life for children, and I’m not criticizing that. But as we grow and evolve, many of us give up on prayer in our lives after that period of childhood praying. Perhaps some continue to occasionally pray in a similar fashion or just learn to give blessings before meals if that practice was pushed in our families. It was a practice in my family. Before dinner, we prayed’ “God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food, amen.” That was it for prayer, along with the bedtime prayer, in my household growing up.

Like many people, prayer after childhood pretty much became non-existent, except for emergency prayer at those rare times in life. You know, like when someone is extremely ill, someone is dying or near death, you are being tested for cancer or AIDS or something like that, or your plane is obviously out of control and it looks like a very bad situation. Oh, yeah, I’ve experienced those times when I suddenly “get religion” of some sort.

I have discovered a whole different experience of praying during my evolving long life on this planet. It’s not that there’s a right and a wrong way to pray, it’s just a different experience, a different way of praying and the results are a whole different way of life, I’ve discovered.

It makes a big difference when you experience God or the Divine Presence, or what ever you want to call “It,” that energy or force or feeling of a presence within you or always surrounding you. When “God” is not some man up in the sky. Something that needs to be called upon to come to you and needs you to explain what’s going on; explain to ‘Him” what you need and you feel you need to plead and beg for something, perhaps make a deal with, negotiate with this God. I feel that treating the god you pray to like a Santa Clause or a “hit man” or a bell boy or servant is not the most effective way to pray. I feel, though, that there are various effective ways to “pray aright.”

What I’m talking about is “affirmative prayer.” It is prayer that is a conversation of oneness with the almighty, the force, the creator. As Jesus says, the Father already knows what you need and it is his good pleasure to give you what you need. You don’t need to explain as if you are talking to a stranger. You don’t need to beg, you don’t need to deal-make with Him (although you might do those things if you are desperate and that is understandable). Like I said, there are many different ways of praying, I’m just laying out what I find works best for me. You can research (google) “affirmative prayer, ” if interested, to get more details on this type of prayer.

What I’ve found out after living a long life is that with prayer, life is better, it goes smoother, it flows better. That’s the bottom line on all of this. Things happen in life. Things happen in a better way when prayer is practiced. I find that when prayer is not practiced or is non-existent in life, things tend to be worse, often. Practicing prayer seems to cause forces in life to come alive, to enter your life. Events occur serendipitously more often when you maintain contact with the “unseen” world, with the presence or spirit I call God. That’s all, life works better. Things turn out better, in the long run, and sometimes in the immediate moment.

Don’t believe in God? I still say prayer is a good practice to try, to experiment with, to play with. You’re dealing with energies and life forces you can’t understand. You don’t have to understand them, you won’t, as I certainly don’t, to be honest. Understanding is not the point, anyway. Just open up to the possibility that there’s more to life, there’s the unseen life, the spiritual dimension. Get more good coming your way, experience being blessed, even super blessed! I know it’s possible, I’ve experienced it. I’m much more aware of it now since I have studied it and practiced it more in my life.

Now I’m not being naive or pollyannish. Bad, awful things happen in life. I’m saying that if God IS, then God ALWAYS is, and God is in EVERY situation in our life. God is with you in your difficult, even horrible situation. I feel it is better than being all alone, knowing there is a presence with you. It is easier, as I see it, if you always practice a prayer life, rather than just turning to prayer, turning to the Divine only in emergency situations. In other words, I find a prayer life is better than a prayer less life. As I see it, it’s more a matter of “practice makes better” than “practice makes perfect.” And, if your prayer life has been a disappointment, I say try new ways of prayer. See what’s out there in this great universe of ours.

I only wish I had discovered the secret of good honest, loving, compassionate prayer earlier in life. I know things would have gone better, decisions and choices would have flowed easier. The struggles would not have been so horrendous at times. I would have had more faith, confidence, and possibly more certainty at those difficult times. Life has turned out well, but I could have had an easier time with a good prayer life of “praying aright.”

So, those are my thoughts on this topic of prayer and the prayer life. I’m just saying what works for me on this path of a wonderful life. Sending loving prayers and thoughts your way! Hahaha! (No, really, REALLY!)

Wally

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A Journey From The Roman Catholic Church to God ( Guest Blog / Blog #45 ) – By Larry J. Thomson

Today’s blog is a guest blog from a good friend on mine. He had written this essay to me recently and I was very impressed with his story and thought it would make a good “guest blog.” The subject is in line with the theme of my blog “On the Path, It’s a Wonderful Life.

  • “Do you renounce Satan?” “I do renounce him. ”“And all his works?” I do renounce them.” “Do you believe in the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?” “I do believe.” “This is the faith of the Church. We are proud to profess it, in Jesus Christ, our Lord. I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” And they all said “Amen”. I was baptized on Sunday, October 12, 1952 at St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Owensboro, Kentucky. I was twelve days old.
  • The responses above were spoken by my oldest brother and sister who were my godparents. Thus, was my fate sealed. I was to go to parochial school, a catholic high school, and adhere to the beliefs and dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church for the rest of my life. Except that it didn’t turn out that way.
  • Growing up, I was a good little catholic boy. I was even an altar boy. No girls allowed on the altar then. I went to mass (the rituals and robes fascinated me), confession (I was a pretty good kid so sometimes I had to make up sins), received holy communion (if you touch the host you will immediately drop dead and go to hell), revered the priests (escaping molestation), and got an excellent basic education of readin’, writin’ and ‘rithmatic while also enduring the mental, emotional, and physical abuse of the nuns as just a natural part of life. At least life in catholic schools. It appears that some of the horrific memories are burned in my mind forever. I once went to the local convent cemetery looking for the grave of a particular nun so I could spit on her grave. Extreme, you say? Disrespectful? You should hear what she did to me. But rather than wallow in the past too much, I’d rather move on to my journey out of the Church. It was natural for catholic boys and girls to consider the religious life. I was no exception. I thought I wanted to be a Franciscan friar. Francis himself was never ordained and didn’t feel a call to the priesthood. As a senior in high school, the Holy Cross brothers of Notre Dame came to the house one day and actively recruited me. But if I was going in, it was going to be the Franciscans. My high school guidance counselor (a nun) was setting up an after-graduation summer live-in with the local Franciscan Conventuals, who would help me arrange to enter the Order of Friars Minor brotherhood in Cincinnati the following September. Then, overnight, something changed. I went to the guidance counselor and told her to forget it with no explanation. Was I going to tell her that I was realizing that the attraction I was feeling for men was not ever going to subside? Not on your life. I already knew the scoop. It was a mental disorder (this was the early 70’s). It was a natural inclination to sin. It was disgusting, sick, and an abomination to God. I would not be worthy to wear the same habit Francis of Assisi wore.
  • With some fortuitous, non-Catholic counseling, I escaped Owensboro two years after high school graduation. After some moving around, getting used to being on my own and making my own decisions, I flippantly stopped going to mass and landed in Denver, Colorado, living the life of an ordinary, working, young gay man, going to bars, making friends and “tricking” every chance I got. One of those “tricks”, a one-night stand, left a notebook in my apartment. It had one written page in it. It was an essay of sorts. It spoke of an experience where he was deserted by two friends in Santa Monica. He went on to say that if we are all one, one cannot be deserted. It’s not possible to conceive. That in Truth, oneness is not dividable, etc. etc. It sounded like a bit of jibber jabber at the time, but it stirred my curiosity. Where did these ideas come from? Bit by bit I did research, and through friends, and even other “tricks” these esoteric ideas started coming out in conversations. I found out that there were entire religions that espoused these kinds of beliefs and thinking, such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Gnosticism, and the new age religions such as Science of Mind, Unitarian, and Christian Science. My own unique, personal, spiritual journey to God had begun and it started with a “trick” whose left-behind notebook became the first volume of my spiritual journal.
  • Three cities and two states later, I am now on volume four. Most of my immediate family remained faithful Catholics, so I keep up on the evolution, or lack thereof, in the church. Not only has there been very little change in the last 48 years, but in many respects, it’s gone backwards from the visions of Vatican Council II. The current Pope seems ready to open that window again and let the fresh air in, but the collective body of bishops is still very conservative. Mandatory celibacy for priests, a male-only priesthood, prohibited divorce, forbidden same-sex marriage, and a tenacious condemnation of a woman’s right to choose birth control are just some of the abuses the church still imposes on its members. I call these abuses because they are devoid of any loving consideration that changing these policies just might save a person from a life of misery, loneliness or in many cases, worse.
  • In my journey to God, I also found Jesus who I call by his Aramaic name, Eshoo. The flesh and blood man who did not judge or condemn, except for the hypocritical religious and political leaders of his day. He hung out with the common folks. The rubble. The sinners. The marginalized. The prostitutes. The tax collectors. The poor. The homosexuals. He said God is in us and we are gods. His message and teachings were about love, peace, and non-violence. And then, of course, they killed him. After I left the church, I wondered about how I could’ve done it so suddenly, dismissively and callously.
  • The answer was and is, it just wasn’t spiritually fulfilling enough to hold me. It kept God someplace out there where I had to search, pray, and beg for any communication or answer to a prayer. Usually the answer was no, or no answer at all. I haven’t become a guru, a mystic, or a sage. I have had many a dark night of the soul, dark nights of doubt, confusion, and frustration. I have angrily cursed and denied God. But I have always come back to the realization, that the God I cursed and denied was not real. He was the one I thought was out there someplace. The true God is what Eshoo called the realm of God that is within. Every time we say “I Am” we speak God’s name. Every time you speak your name, you speak God’s name. Truth is what God is. Here is where God is. I Am who God is. Love is what God does. I thank God for the many revelations I have received during my numerous and continuing trips around the sun. And I also thank God for sending me that “trick”.

Thank you, Larry for that most fascinating essay, a brief overview of your spiritual journey to God. I love hearing how people find their way to a real experience of the ineffable, what we often call God.

Wally

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Around the World in 80…, Er…, 21 Days [ Post # 44 ]

In 1973 I began my airline career, hoping to have a good time working in aviation ( being a pilot and fascinated with the business), and traveling to interesting places and seeing the world. That was my dream, my intention, my plan. If I stayed with my airline and reached retirement, I would get some good travel benefits, according to my employee handbook.

The airline business was very uncertain, very insecure. There were always strikes, layoffs, pay cuts, etc. You couldn’t plan on any security, I quickly learned. After six months employment, my first layoff occurred. I was eligible for recall to my position when things improved in the business, but for now I was out of work. Out of work with no idea when I would be reinstated to continue my employment. Fortunately, I had just completed six months employment when this occurred and at six months employment one becomes eligible for free travel passes on the airline. I could now do some of my much-desired travel.

I had developed a friendship of sorts with another employee who also got furloughed from his job at the same time (we had started together in mid 1973). One day he asked me if I would be interested in traveling with him. He was thinking of traveling around the world since our airline was one of the two U.S. airlines that had “around-the-world” routes at the time. Wow, I thought, spending my layoff circling the globe on my first airline pass. What a fantastic opportunity that would be!

It didn’t take long for me to make a decision. It was that time in life when good opportunities came my way and I grabbed them. Let the good times roll! I went to a local ticket office of my airline and got my free ticket. Well, there was a “service charge” of $57 for the round-the -world ticket. What a deal. Actually, I choose to sweeten the deal by paying an upgrade service fee of an additional $57 for first class for the entire trip, if it was available. All the travel was on a space-available or standby basis, no reservations permitted. I was young and adventurous, so that was no big deal for me.

First class cabin all the way except the Tel Aviv to Bombay, India overnight flight.

After acquiring a passport and the necessary visas for certain countries and inoculations for certain countries, I was set. We set off for our big adventure. Our plan was to go west from Los Angeles, but when we could not get on a flight to Hawaii because of full flights, we quickly changed our plans and headed east. We headed to New York and to our first stop at Lisbon, Portugal. What I remember that first night in Lisbon, our first night in a foreign country was one our our differences. I was open to trying foreign foods, my companion was not. He wanted hamburgers and all the usual American foods. Well, that’s interesting, I thought. Here we are traveling around the world and he is not open to trying foreign foods.

The next stop was Madrid, Spain. The dictator Franco was the ruler then. I remember enjoying Madrid. It was an adjustment eating dinner or the evening meal late at night as is the European custom.

Rome, of course; the Colosseum.

Next on our itinerary were Rome and Greece. I quickly learned my traveling companion was a “lady’s man,” if you get my drift. He found a “girlfriend” in every port (as they say). When he realized that I did not have the same obsession, or interest, we had a little talk. It was time I explained myself. I disclosed that I was gay and that really blew his mind. He really had no comprehension of this fact, I think. He was a “born again” Christian and really came down on me for being a “sinner,” and really preached to me about all of this. Hmmmm, I thought, interesting.

The rest of the trip always had this tension present. We seemed to always be surrounded by whores wherever we went, which was really what he wanted. That was just the way it was. Like I said, interesting.

I enjoyed seeing the historical sights in Rome, Greece, then Israel. History classes suddenly came alive for me, it was all right in front of me. With my theological background I found Israel fascinating beyond words. The big change came when we went from Israel to Bombay, India (now renamed Mumbai). The poverty in India was something else. I had never seen such a sight, with beggars everywhere just hanging on you wherever you went. And the stench of the city was overwhelming, something I’ll never forget. On top of that, I picked up what I think was dysentery, which stayed with me long after we completed the trip. That experience caused my to just want to hurry up and get home. But here we were, halfway around the world. We had half the globe to cover before we’d be home. We did visit a national park and some caves and sights in India and then on to Bangkok, Thailand. An interesting culture. What stands out for me in my memory were the public toilets in Thailand. Just holes in the ground, period, just holes. I had never experienced that before. Not like outhouses in the states, just holes for squatting.

On a river cruise in Bangkok, Thailand.
On a beach near Bombay, India. The woman in front of me was our tour guide.

Then on to Hong Kong (it was British then). and Taiwan. A brief stop in Okinawa and Guam and then on to Hawaii and home. Whew! That was a lot of traveling and sights to see in a three week period. The the discomfort of dysentery for the last portion of the trip.

A lot was learned during this adventure. Many different cultures, different currencies, and sights I’ve only studied about in school. The travel was all first class except the Tel Aviv, Israel to Bombay, India overnight flight. I did run into suspicion with the customs officials upon entering the country in Hawaii. They had a hard time understanding why a twenty-five-year-old would circle the globe in three weeks. They searched me very thoroughly, I mean thoroughly, for drugs. Finally I was cleared to enter back into the U.S. The big adventure was over.

So, this was an interesting and exciting time in my life, the early ’70s. Living in an Eskimo village, living and working in a national park (my previous two blogs), and now going around the world in three weeks. I’m glad I didn’t hesitate to do these things when the opportunity arose. They are great memories to have.

Just as a side note, when I went on this three week trip, my mother was very ill with cancer and I was hesitant to leave at that time as I didn’t know if she would be alive by the time I returned. After much thought and hesitation, I decided to go. I felt this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for me and I was at peace with the decision. As it turned out, she was still alive when I returned and lived several more months. Like I said, a great trip overall and great lifelong memories.

Wally

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Living and Working in a National Park [Post #42]

My last blog (#41) covered my summer experience living and working in a small Eskimo village in Alaska in the summer of 1971. So, come the summer of 1972, I’m having another exciting adventure living in a new, unexpected place again, the adventure of living and working in Yosemite National Park, California. Let me back up and tell you how that came about.

Overlooking Yosemite Valley

I attended grad school, a theological seminary from the fall of 1971 until the spring of 1972. Another good time in my life. lots of new activities for me, like preaching at a local hospital of my church’s denomination. Another event during the year was attending a presentation at the seminary from the head of an organization called “A Christian Ministry in the National Parks.” The man talked to us about his organization, which provided a summer program to interested seminary students to live and work and minister in the National Park system. If we were accepted into the program, we would be housed and provided a secular job in the park and also have the responsibility to assist the park’s Christian minister in providing services for the park visitors on Sundays. I had no idea National Parks had Christian ministers providing worship services on Sundays.

Well, after hearing his spiel, I thought, wow, that would be interesting, living and working in a National Park for the summer. So, of course I inquired and applied for the upcoming summer’s program with the organization. That would be a good experience to have when I returned the next fall to continue my studies, I thought.

Well, I was accepted and told to report for an orientation program coming up in Madison, Wisconsin ( the seminary I was attending was in Chicago). I was told that the way the program worked was if you were accepted. you would be assigned a National Park by the organization, you did not get to choose where you would be placed. Okay, I thought, I’ll take whatever they assign me. This will be an adventure, not knowing where I’ll be or exactly what I’ll be doing. Let’s do it!

So the school year comes to a close. By the end of my first year I had decided I needed a break from the academic life. I’d spent several years in college and grad school and was a bit tired of it all. It was just time for a break. Time to have a talk with the dean of the seminary and advise him I probably would not be returning to school in the fall.

He seemed to understand and he told be that he felt he knew me well enough to tell me, “sure, take a break, but I know you’ll be back because this place and the ministry are for you.” I was surprised to hear him say that, being so supportive of my ministerial studies. It felt good being validated like that.

But I had this summer responsibility coming up with this National Park commitment. Well, it turned out that that was no problem. I could still fulfill that commitment even if I was not planning on returning to school in the fall. Whew, I still get to have my summer adventure, I’m stoked.

So, after a drive back home from to Los Angeles from Chicago (seminary) I once again pack up my ’67 VW bug and head north to Yosemite National Park, just northeast of Fresno, California. Never been there before. There’s a lookout point after you enter the park which is a stunning view of the valley, the mountains and the cliffs. I am stunned by the natural beauty like I’ve never seen before. Wow, I’m thinking, this is my new home for the summer. I’m in heaven. I am speechless.

The first view when entering the park of Yosemite Valley.

I spend the day getting settled in. It turns out my “secular” job is to be a busboy at the Yosemite Lodge cafeteria. My ministerial job is to be a chaplain at the Yosemite Hospital. I didn’t even know they had a hospital in the park. It is there for those visitors that get injured in the park or get sick. Well, this is something new for me, but I’m game, so let’s do it. I meet the park minister and get a little bit acquainted and orientated to my surroundings. Then over to the cafeteria to meet my boss there and get my housing taken care of. I will be housed in a tent encampment for workers. I will be sharing a tent with another park worker nicknamed “Frog.” Hmmm, this is going to be interesting I’m thinking.

High above Yosemite Valley.

So, the work begins. I actually liked the busboy job. I get fed. make some money, and live in a tent. I’m cool with this. I meet some interesting people as customers at the cafeteria. I get to know one couple over a period of days and even get a job offer for when my park commitment is over. It was in the insurance business, so I was not really interested, but I did think it over a bit.

After hours were fun times. I would attend park ranger talks in the evenings, explore the valley, enjoy the beautiful falls. I would spend some evenings in the bar where I became fond of “Singapore Slings.” Good times.

The lodging arrangement was a bit of a strain for me. Turns out “Frog” was a nice guy but really into drugs. He had his group of friends over to the tent often at night and they did peyote and magic mushrooms regularly. Needless to say, I did not often get good, sound sleep because of the nightly ruckus. I was not into drugs ( although in seminary I did indulge a bit in marijuana with a couple of seminarians). So, the lodging was a bit of an uncomfortable situation, but I survived.

In the valley.

Every now and then I would visit the hospital to see if anyone there needed some assistance. Often there’d be nobody there (patients), but sometimes there would be and I would visit them. I would offer prayer if requested.

There was a church in the park, an historic church, in fact. They held Sunday services there and I sometimes attended. I was not involved in those services as my ministerial job was at the hospital as a chaplain/assistant.

Some good friends from Los Angeles came to the park for a couple of days. That was fun having them there. I even went home for a weekend once just for a break. I thought that was strange. Here I was in paradise and I had to take a break and get away to the big city. But after a couple of days in L.A. I was ready to return.

It was fun making temporary friends with the workers there. We had lots of laughs and adventures. I did have one or two guys try to hit on me but I had not come to terms with that part of my life yet. In fact, at the orientation in Wisconsin before the summer, in one of the panels we were asked how we would handle a situation if we discovered someone in our ministry group was gay and I responded with a very homophobic response about how wrong it was. People seemed a bit shocked at my response and when questioned further my response was “because the Bible condemns homosexuality.” I was a bit close-minded back then.

Oh, well, summer was coming to an end. When I called home I was shocked to hear that my mother was suddenly diagnosed with cancer so I advised my bosses that I had to terminate my summer commitment a bit early and head home. A sad way to end this adventure, but that’s the way it was. Once again, I grabbed an opportunity to have a grand adventure and I had a great time. Another once-in-a-lifetime experience on my path.

Wally