Christmas Letter Coming

Shhh… Christmas Letter Coming – Don’t tell Anna

My daughter Anna was born on December 15. As a third child, and the only daughter, many say she was spoiled. She’s one that says that, proudly.

One thing we did when she was small was to defer Christmas decorating until after her birthday. We didn’t want her birthday to get lost in the Christmas celebrating. Plus, we really liked the idea of shortening up that lead-up to Christmas. As our corporate consumerism driven economy drives us to begin the “Christmas Season” ever earlier each year, I like the idea of rebelling by refusing to buy into it. Sort of like the election seasons getting longer and longer – my lord how long until they actually overlap, and one election season starts before the election before that one is even held?

As Anna grew older, she took up that mantle, and made sure each year that nobody slipped up and started putting up lights or in any other way started to focus on Christmas until after her birthday. (Would you expect anything less of a princess?)

So this year, I’m putting a little Christmas letter up on my blog, but I can’t publish it until after Anna’s birthday. So, on 12/15, join me in wishing Anna a happy birthday, and keep an eye out for any Christmas letter soon after…

Shhh…

The Haughty Activist

There’s lots of “occupying” going on recently. I applaud those who actively exercise their First Amendment rights. I’m not sure if I agree with 100% of their position on things, mostly because I’m not completely sure of what that position is. The essence seems to be that they’re opposed to the massive redistribution of wealth that our government has been supporting over the last 30 years, as a bigger and bigger portion of the wealth of our nation rests in the hands of a smaller and smaller percentage of people. The 1%.

I get that, and I agree that this isn’t a good thing. I can’t reconcile it with my spiritual beliefs or my moral principles. As a purely practical matter, such lopsided distribution of wealth always leads to upheaval.

I listened to someone trashing the “occupiers” the other day. I never could figure out what it was that they didn’t agree with, but they sure didn’t like the protesters. When I thought about this person’s comments, it really seemed to boil down to the fact that they didn’t like the “sort of person” who would be an activist for a good cause like this. They didn’t seem to like the “do-gooder”. He used the term “bleeding heart” several times – there’s an oldie but goodie!

Which reminded me of something I read once about a comment made by the great Lubavitcher Rebbe – Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson. A young man had apparently told the Rebbe that he had decided to avoid social activism because it had been feeding his ego. A bleeding heart.

The Rebbe replied: “And without the activism there is no ego? Better a haughty activist than a self-centered do-nothing!”

Go occupiers!

Cycling in the West – Alamosa to Walsenburg

Bicycle Touring in the West
Day 18 – Alamosa to Walsenburg

“I only went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” 
  ~ John Muir

It’s a beautiful morning rolling east on 160 out of Alamosa. There’s a bit of damp air hanging close to the ground in places, feeling almost like a light fog – something we don’t see much of in Colorado. As we approach the Great Sand Dunes area off to our north, I realize that the hazy sky is most likely the result of fires they’ve been experiencing to our south in recent days and weeks. At times, I can actually smell a bit of smoke.

Smoke from fires in the high atmosphere, looking toward Great Sand Dunes

I know this is my last day of riding for this trip, and I’m more bummed than I thought I’d be. I find myself holding back and riding a bit slow – savoring the last tastes of the trip. Continue reading “Cycling in the West – Alamosa to Walsenburg”

The Broom and the Blower

I was sweeping the garage the other day. I do it often this time of year, as the tiny leaves from the locust tree in front find it easy to drift in with the cars.

It’s an old fashioned “flat broom” I use, and the sound it makes as it brushes the smooth concrete floor of the garage is sweet and soothing. It’s a sound that feels like it’s at home with the house finches on the feeders out front, and the soft wind that eases through the standing grasses in the front garden.

There’s a comforting rhythm that comes with the task of sweeping. The easy brushing, side to side, left to right. It’s a rhythm I can easily become lost in, and often do. Usually, when I finish sweeping the garage, I keep on sweeping right down the driveway – in part to move the leaves further away from the garage, but also because I’m enjoying the sound and the rhythm, and don’t want it to end.

Continue reading “The Broom and the Blower”

“Peace” featured in Reviewers Bookshelf at Midwest Book Review

The October, 2011 edition of Reviewer’s Bookshelf at the Midwest Book Review featured the following review of “Peace at the Edge of Uncertainty”

Many thanks to Nicole and Midwest Book Review!

Death is the final frontier. It is the destination of every person to walk the face of the Earth. It is unavoidable, inescapable, unknowable – yet it holds such a mysterious fascination. Any book examining death from a personal perspective immediately becomes universal in scope. We all seek to find out what lies beyond. We yearn for answers, yet fear what is impossible to discern. In Peace at the Edge of Uncertainty, Neil Hanson recounts the spiritually charged moment of experiencing firsthand his father’s passing. In that hospital room, he witnessed the veil, separating life and death, briefly lift in his presence. It was a profound encounter that continues to shape his outlook on life.

Hanson wrote the book 15 years after his father’s death. It is composed in letter format as he attempts to correspond with his father on a spiritual plane. He hopes that by expressing his thoughts and emotions on paper the message will reverberate to where his father’s soul now resides. Hanson stresses two points. First, he says he’s sorry for any stress his youthful misbehavior may have caused and that he forgives his father for not always being there for him when he was growing up. Second, he tells his father that he loves him. Contrition, forgiveness and love are what Hanson yearns to tell his father from the very depths of his heart.

The emphasis behind this communication is that Hanson’s father was brought to the hospital in a coma from which he never recovered. The unexpected nature of the situation left no room for closure. Hanson was never able to talk with his dad again. While his body was still physically present for the remaining time they had together, his mind was not. This absence of words prompted Hanson to write this book. He longed to be able to communicate with his father one last time.

While Christian in nature, the book is pluralistic in tone. Hanson does not endorse any particular faith and in fact finds that many organized religions hinder people from connecting with the divine. He feels people are desperately searching for ways to experience God in their lives, and that they are not provided with the proper spiritual instruction on how to achieve this desire.

His own divine awakening began as a teenager at a high school wrestling tournament. When he was thrown to the ground during a match, he felt his soul leave his body. The atmosphere around him became suffused with light and harmony. Everything was silent, but for what seemed like a chorus of angels filling his ears. He felt a sense of peace he never knew existed. He had entered a state of utter bliss. It was magical, mystical. Until he floated up to the ceiling and noticed the dust on a light fixture, his soul with a pop immediately reunited with his body on the mat. Being able to notice something ordinary like dust, Hanson took to mean that he was still tethered to the ties of this world.

It wasn’t until his father drew his last breath that this doorway opened to him again. Albeit, this time he was only allowed to peek through the keyhole and not walk through the door. The same immense feelings engulfed him as his father’s soul became separated from his body. While ultimately feeling sad for their impending separation, Hanson also experienced an overwhelming sense of joy as he felt a divine presence enter the room. With his heart rapidly beating and tears streaming down his face, he was granted the privilege of witnessing his father cross the dividing line between life and death.

In a beautiful passage, Hanson recounts the joy of impending fathers in the hospital’s maternity ward at the arrival of their newborn babies. What happiness to be there for your child on such a momentous occasion. As his father’s soul slips away he realizes the circular nature of the journey. As the son is now there for the father as he returns to the place from which he was born.

Overall, Hanson beautifully relates the privilege of being able to witness the last breath of a loved one.

Mirrors and Windows

Image from CyleOdonnell.com

 

Most people are mirrors, reflecting the moods and emotions of the times; few are windows, bringing light to bear on the dark corners where troubles fester. The whole purpose of education is to turn mirrors into windows.

~ Sydney J. Harris, journalist and author (1917-1986)

(Compliments of Miss Peggy)

Cycling in the West – Pagosa Springs to Alamosa

Bicycle Touring In The West
Day 17 – Pagosa Springs to Alamosa

“I’ve learned that everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.”
  ~ Unknown

Pagosa Springs

Today we’re back to a little more mileage, but still a tad shy of a 100 mile day. We cross the Continental Divide this morning at Wolf Creek Pass. It’s a day I’ve looked forward to throughout the trip – as much as a test of my fitness as for the beauty of an 11,000’ pass. Continue reading “Cycling in the West – Pagosa Springs to Alamosa”

Feathers

FEATHERS

Image from IWishICouldFly.com, Alan Stankavitz

Everything that lives wants to fly,
a Mohawk friend said to me one winter afternoon
as we watched grosbeaks take seeds,
fluttering close to our eyes.

Those were dinosaurs once, he said,
but they made a bargain.
they gave up that power
in return for the Sky.

Joseph Bruchac
(Thanks to Miss Peggy for the contribution)

Cycling in the West – Durango to Pagosa Springs

Bicycle Touring in the West
Day 16 – Durango to Pagosa Springs

“Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out. 
  ~ Vaclav Havel

Durango is a big bicycle town. There are some world-class cyclists who hail from these parts, and I’ve heard many times of the great road cycling in the area. In addition, there’s a tremendous road cycling club in the area, and Ft Lewis College in Durango has what they bill as the “#1 cycling program in the nation”, with 17 national championships. There’s a really fun ride I try and do most years down here over Memorial Day – they call it the Iron Horse Classic and it’s a ride/race from Durango to Silverton where you’re racing the old Steam Engine up into the mountains. Lot’s of climbing, about 50 miles, and they close the road for a couple hours for the race.

Perhaps understandably, I have again set some expectations for the day. I’m imagining that cars in the area are accustomed to cyclists, and that the roads will accommodate safe riding. Continue reading “Cycling in the West – Durango to Pagosa Springs”