On Memorial Day

Excerpt from “Til Death Do Us Part?”

On Memorial Day, 1983

It was a sunny and brisk day as Dolores and I walked up the steep stony driveway to the WTI headquarters. We were going to the annual Memorial Day gathering, which would be held outdoors.

When we reached the top, we could see that several others had already arrived. A table with various books for sale had been set up near the entrance, and I began scanning some of the unfamiliar titles.

Prudence approached us, and she handed each of us a hot cup of elixir.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a long sip. “That sure hits the spot.”

Dolores and I said hello to the dozen other guests who were sitting on chairs, or reading from a pink paper. Timothy approached Dolores and I and handed each of us a copy of something printed on pink paper.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said, smiling broadly with his charismatic smile. “Once those instructions are clear, you should go to a private spot with your notebook. We’ll all meet back here in 30 minutes.”

“OK,” I said. We both studied the paper as Timothy stood there.

I quickly read the instructions. We were to select three living “loved-ones” and write their names in our notebook. We were then to go sit under a bush, or sit in some private spot somewhere on the hilltop. Next, we were to mentally imagine that we get a phone call, and someone tells us that one of the people on our list have died. Each of us was to feel and experience the grief as if that person really died, and attempt to make it real. With the full feeling of grief, we were to write down all those things that we wished we’d told that person before they died. We were to do this exercise with all three of the people on our list.

“Oh, one more thing,” said Timothy. “It doesn’t say this on your paper, but it would be good if at least one person on your list of three is someone who is here today.”

“OK,” I responded. I knew that my father would be on my list, and so would Dolores.

I walked up the rough steps which led to the upper portion of the property, and I sat myself under an old citrus tree. It was one of my favorite spots on the property because I always felt very “invisible” there, yet I had a terrific view of the surrounding neighborhood.

I began my list. I wrote down Dolores, Prudence, and my father. I then closed my eyes, and imagined that I just received a call from my brother telling me that my father had died. I let it hit me that he was gone, dead, out of my life. I began to cry involuntarily. My mind automatically thought back to the earliest childhood memories of my father cutting the lawn, and taking me with him in the station wagon to the supermarket. I remembered the things I did wrong, and was punished for, and my mind went through a non-chronological review of various events.

I cried at other memories. I realized my father was by no means perfect, and yet I could see he tried to do what was right, despite his many weaknesses or deficiencies. I found myself missing him terribly, in spite of the fact that he was still alive and I had not called him for over a month.

I began to do the same with Dolores and Prudence. Dolores and I hadn’t yet married, though we were both very interested in one another and enjoyed each other’s friendship and company. Still, we had already experienced several “rough spots” together. I looked at my watch and saw that I had already been there over 30 minutes, so I quickly finished writing my notes and then headed back down to the gathering.

Most everyone was already back down at the gathering site, and were serving themselves from the delicious dishes that everyone provided. I began to serve myself a smaller than usual dish. I still felt very “shaken up” by my brief but intensive experience of “hearing that my father had died.”

Timothy shared a few prepared readings about Memorial Day and the nature of death. Then we got to the part where Timothy asked each person to briefly share their experiences with their list of three people.

Once each person briefly shared their varied experiences, Timothy then got back in front and, with his charismatic smile, announced that everyone now would have a rare opportunity.

“You’ve all just done what most people do when they learn that someone they love has died. However, all these people are still here. Now you need to tell them today those things that you’d regret not telling them if they died. We have two phones here, so whomever wants to use them may do so now.” [Note: this was before the days of universal cell phones.]

A few people got up and went inside to call someone.

“Or, you can write a short note or letter right now,” Timothy declared. “If you don’t have any stationery, we have lots of paper and envelopes that you can use.”

“Now, if the person is here now,” Timothy continued, “I want the two of you to go to a private place and you can tell that person whatever it is that you want them to hear. Don’t be embarrassed. We’ll all meet back here together in about 30 minutes and share that experience.”

I was a bit hesitant to do this next step. It would be risky. It’s always risky to be completely honest and open. It could be embarrassing. Nevertheless, I first went with Prudence to a private spot. It turns out that she also chose me, so we were able to “kill two birds with one stone,” so to speak.

Next I looked for Dolores, who was just getting done with another person. We walked up the hill and sat under the towering eucalyptus tree. It was not easy, but we talked, and then we hugged, and went back to join the others.

After a few minutes, Prudence read a few passages from a book about death. I took a few notes as I listened, and also looked around at the expressions of those gathered there that day. I felt very much “startled awake,” and I could tell that most everyone had had some sort of eye-opening epiphany about life and death and how quickly it all passes.

I was experiencing an inner turmoil, a bit apprehensive about my plan to talk to my father later in the day. I was also very reflective about all the choices I make day in and out, and how everyone else affects me, and how I affect everyone else. Especially Dolores. How to do it all “just right,” all the time, I wondered? How can I live my life without regrets? I wondered, was everyone else feeling such inner turmoil, and inner challenge?
[more to follow]

A Night at the L.A. Adventurers' Club

In May, I gave a talk at the Los Angeles Adventurers Club, which was billed as a presentation on primitive weapons and urban survival, which is sort of what I talked about. After hearing about some of the truly hard-core mountain climbs and boating trips with accompanying deaths, I felt that my little presentation was a bit tame.

I began by briefly sharing my recent series of adventures with Helen, which we call “In Search of the Nipton Troll.” (More on that later). I also shared some discoveries about the Maya during visits to Mexico and Guatemala. (Nope, there are no “prophecies” about “the end of the world” in 2012).

Then I explained my recent appearance on the National Geographic’s television show called “Doomsday Preppers.” I said I was preparing for an earthquake, and I demonstrated how to make fire with a hand drill, how to forage in L.A., and I showed the contents of my “survival pack.”

I then discussed how such concerns about the world ending tend to distract us from dealing with the very real here and now concerns.

I shared the nine ways in which two recent authors suggested that the world might end with mass deaths or extinction of the human race. However, most of those scenarios cannot be prepared for. If a comet hit the earth with L.A. at the point of impact, there would be no survivors and your survival kit would be irrelevant.

So my perspective is that we have many very real concerns which we can and should deal with, without being distracted by 2012 fears or aliens invading from Mars.

In general, these concerns can be divided into those that are man-made, and those that are natural. The man-made are such things as war, nuclear accidents, terrorism, economic disasters, massive pollution of the water due to fracking, etc. The natural disasters, which are usually exacerbated by man, are such things as famine, flooding, earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis, an ice age, etc.

I’m a big fan of deriving lessons from literature and movies, so I recommended books such as “Hole in the Sky,” “Earth Abides,” and “Lucifer’s Hammer.” Each depicts some sort of disaster or survival situation, and how the people dealt with it.

I also suggested movies such as “Book of Eli,” “Hunger Games,” even “Mad Max” which provide some clues as to what a post-cataclysmic world might look like.

So how does one prepare for such possibilities? I suggested that primitive survival skills will never go out of style. These are skills such as wilderness first aid, making tools from stones, making fire from sticks, making fibre from plants and then making things from that fibre, and many more.

But I strongly encouraged the audience to not get into a typical “survivalist” trap, where you are wholly focused on physical skills and acquiring objects like knives and guns and food.

I read from my “How to Survive Anywhere” book, and my “Extreme Simplicity” book, where I suggested that we should all spend equal time on developing not just our physical skills, but also our health, our economic integrity, our moral and spiritual health, and our sense of being a positive contributing factor in our society. The negative stereotype of a “survivalist” is the guy who is a loner and who thinks he can do it all alone, and to hell with everyone else.

By contrast, to consider how to think about the long-term sustainability of our culture and our species, we should examine at least some of the methods used by the so-called primitive cultures for millennia. Among the many lessons we can learn from studying the more advanced “primitive” cultures are cooperation, realizing that your neighbor’s survival is your survival, learning to do more with less, learning how to work with the land and ecology, and not against it, etc.

Of course, this is the tip of a very big iceberg – the full scope and depth of what is meant by “survival.”  I  welcome your comments and questions.

When Vegetarians Eat Chicken

A Lesson in Not Being Too Rigid

Several years ago, after a Sunday morning Spiritual Studies gathering, many of the participants gathered to plant a tree as a remuneration to the facilitator. Most of us were helping the two main individuals who had planned the tree-planting. As we gathered to plant the tree, the two planners began to argue. One had already taken the time to dig a hole of the appropriate depth, and watered it, and gotten the tree ready to place into the hole. The other individual, however, argued that it wasn’t exactly the right spot, and insisted that a new hole be dug about three feet away. Most of us observers didn’t say much, but we thought that a mere three feet wouldn’t make much difference.

The person who had dug the hole was rather upset at this turn of events, for she felt that all her work was now for naught. As it turned out, the man who wanted to move the hole got his way. He argued that he had a degree in landscaping (or some related field), and that therefore his argument had greater weight.

To all us observers, it was a sad sight -- something the two of them should have worked out ahead of time rather than force us all to witness their dispute (not to mention the time waste).

After it was over, Dr. Elan Neev told me a little story. (Dr. Elan Neev, who was one of the tree-planting participants, is the author of Wholistic Healing, and the founder of the Self Improvement Institute in Los Angeles.)

He said that people in Israeli villages adopt Army units, and would take care of the soldiers and feed them. In one case, a group of ladies had spent the day preparing a special meal for an Army unit, unaware that they were orthodox Jews and strict vegetarians. The meal that the ladies had prepared included chicken.

The troops came and when they saw that the meal included chicken, they quickly and quietly spoke to their rabbi.

The rabbi told them that the value of honoring their hostesses was more important than their principle of being vegetarians. He said they needed to compare these two competing values. The rabbi said that the value of not hurting another -- in this case, the ladies who worked all day to provide a special meal -- was much more important than their dietary choice. He encouraged the soldiers to eat the meal and to say nothing of the chicken, which is what they did.



When Dr. Neev was finished telling me this story, I paused, and said, “So they should have just planted the tree in the first hole, right?”

“Of course. The fact that the landscaper was ‘right’ about the location was less important than the way he hurt the woman’s feelings who had gone to all the work to plan the hole and to dig it. Of course they should have just planted the tree in that first hole. Now she will always have a bad feeling about that tree. It doesn’t matter that the landscaper was ‘right’ since the end result is a minus, not a plus.” [NOTE: The apple tree that we all planted in the “right” hole died a year later.]

This story reminds us of people with strict self-imposed dietary guidelines who go out to eat at restaurants or other people’s homes and who are endlessly picky about everything that may be in the food. “Oh, we can’t have sugar,” they say. “Oh, we can’t eat anything with pasteurized daily products in it,” “What type of oil did you use in this dressing,” etc., ad nauseam. The result is that the hosts feel disgusted, insulted, and everyone ends up with indigestion, regardless how “correct” the food happens to be.

You must wonder why such people don’t make such dietary arrangements ahead of time. Folks with strict dietary demands who then impose their systems and nuances upon everyone else don’t realize that they spoil the atmosphere so much that it counteracts any of the positive effects of the “good food.”

Dr. Neev then told me another story. Some years ago, he participated in a religious retreat in the Palm Springs area. The people leading the event were all strict vegetarians. On the last day of the retreat, the teacher served Hindu-style chicken. This shocked everyone, including his own students. The teacher encouraged everyone to enjoy the meal. He said, “One of my teachings is: No matter what you teach, you don’t want to be too attached to it.”

The Hunger Games

The “Hunger Games” books are top sellers, and the movie is a hit. More and more teens coming to my classes have been telling me to see the movie. “But read the book first,” one girl told me. Well, I haven’t read the book yet, but I did go to see the movie anyway.

By now, we’ve all heard the story. A futuristic North America is divided into 12 districts. The ruling district is extravagantly rich, while the other districts are impoverished, barely surviving. In order to maintain control after an attempted rebellion, the ruling district takes two teens from each district annually, quickly trains them, and then releases them into a controlled wilderness arena. There they fight to the death until only one winner emerges. They call these the Hunger Games, and the movie depicts the 74th annual event.

It’s a disturbing futuristic glimpse of a world where everyone watches the kills and the strategies for survival. The president states that the use of fear helps to control people, and the games are taken very seriously. The president adds that the only emotion greater than fear is hope, and the people from each district hope that their candidate will emerge a victor.

But the death of each youth is not without its consequences in the territories. Even the way in which the game can be played, and won, is not without the higher manipulation of the winner.

Woody Harrelson plays Haymitch Abernathy, a mentor for the star Katniss Everdeen (played by Jennifer Lawrence). Abernathy, a past winner of the games, seems broken by the games and his society, but he knows the rules and he coaches Katniss well.

Katniss, who grew up hunting and foraging in order to survive, is well suited to emerge victorious. And she has a soul, a fact that throws a few screws into the machinery of the game-makers.

Some friends told me that the movie was both boring and pedestrian, tired old concepts that we’ve seen before. Maybe, and maybe not. I didn’t evaluate the film based on how the camera was held, or even originality of plot. We’ve heard there are only a dozen or so basic plots, but it’s the way you spin it that makes it good and noteworthy.

I asked myself, how can seeing this movie improve my character? What are the elements of true survival and even spirituality that I should embrace in order to be a better person? I wondered as I watched, what are the higher traits that I should always embrace regardless of my gender, race, or era in which I’m born?

There are a lot of historical analogies you might read-into the Hunger Games, such as the decadent Romans who delighted in feeding Christians to the lions. Or, closer to home, the manner in which we hoop and cheer at the brutality of football and soccer games. Or, after the Lakers win a playoff, how the local teens go out onto the streets of Los Angeles, “having fun” and “celebrating” by smashing windows and burning police cars!

The Hunger Games has violence and blood, though not as much as you’d expect. Still, leave the very young children at home since this is a dark and disturbing movie.

I’d recommend the Hunger Games. It is full of useful lessons, but you have to work to find them.

How to Make Friends & Open Doors

Most people want to make new friends, and open doors of various sorts. Is it all that complicated? You’d think so, because there are seminars and books and counselors, all geared to making things happen for us.

While we learn in school that we must have a degree, and follow certain protocol, school rarely seems to teach us about how the real world operates.

Perhaps the single most important skill to develop is communications. Poor communications have ruined businesses and marriage, and led to war. Yet, the good communicator can open doors that sometimes even the schooled individual cannot.

Even Scientologists recognize this, for the first course that new students take is in communications. Communication is at the heart of what we are and what we do.

My mentor Revve Weisz recently told me about how he made so many friends back in junior high school, and how so many opportunities then became available to him.

He discovered the magic of taking an interest in other people. He took the time to remember their names, and he took the time to ask people how they were doing, and if they needed help in studies or sports. It turned out that Weisz was an “A” student in academics and excelled in sports. But the magic began when he took a genuine interest in others, with sincerity.

In his senior year, even though he wasn’t running for school president, there was an unprecedented write-in campaign to get him elected.

By contrast, how often have we had conversations with people who are barely listening, just waiting for us to stop talking so they can share their opinion or their story? Way too often! Even worse these days, how often have we talked with someone whose I was podded so bad that they could barely take their eyes away from their I-pod, I-pad, texting toy, or cell phone?

You’d think that with all these communications devices, we’d communicate better, but we don’t. Why? Because real communication means that we commune with another. Though a technological toy can help us do that, it can not replace our sincere intent to feel what another person is saying and experiencing. Just like Weisz learned, sometimes we should put our own personal interests asides – at least for the moment – when we are trying to commune and listen to another.

Yes, this requires slowing down. Yes, this requires work.

A good tool in developing these somewhat unused communication skills is to perfect our use of language, and to use language precisely. A good tool in this regard is the classic book by S.I. Hayakawa, “Language in Thought and Action.” If you’ve never read it, then fasten your seat belts!

But the flip side is that some folks who are highly skilled in language can use their words to deceive, beguile, and confuse. That’s where intent comes in. Language use is like any other skill – it is neutral. It is our use of intent for pure communication that makes our improved language skills a tool of our personal evolution.

And this is why you really can communicate well with someone who speaks another language, and by the use of your intent, you can speak heart-to-heart by use of facial expressions, pantomime, and perhaps a handy translator.

I have been practicing sign language for the deaf for some time, and occasionally get to use it. It is a simple and direct way to communicate and there seems to be less opportunity for deception. I find it to be a pure way to commune with someone, without any words at all! That’s right – we can communicate, and do so clearly and cleanly, without any words whatsoever!

Making friends and opening doors are intimately related. You can do both by taking a genuine interest in others and working at your communication skills.

Turning Over the Money-Changers' Tables

A view at the base of the pyramid at Chichicastenango, Guatemala

Growing up in a Catholic family, I have always had a special reverence for Passion Week, perhaps the holiest of all the Christian holy days. The climax of this tradition begins on Palm Sunday with Jesus’ entry into the city of Jerusalem on a mule while palm leaves and garments are laid in his path by his followers. He is widely acknowledged as a healer, though some are upset that his actions are drawing so much attention.

Then, later that day, or the next day, he becomes enraged by the “money changers” and ubiquitous vendors along the way to the temple, and knocks over many of these booths.

Of course, it is no different today. Every holy site on earth is packed with vendors and their booths of trinkets that they hawk to every tourist who passes by. These booths of vendors are found around the Vatican, the Church of Guadalupe in Mexico City, Chichen Itza, the Egypt pyramids, etc., ad nauseum.

Jesus knocked over the merchants’ tables because he felt their very presence in the temple desecrated a holy site. This didn’t garner him many friends, especially not the merchants who felt justified in their commerce. This act set the stage for the various accusations, arrest, trials, and crucifixion.

Today, commerce seems to run and rule every aspect of our lives. Everything has a price and scant few protest the gross invasion of commercialism, on billboards, on our e-mail, on the bus-stop, in the bus, on the bus, at every sporting venue, on the clothing of bicyclists and car racers, etc. Yet, we somewhat draw the line at our religious locations. Somewhat.

Jesus recoiled that the work of the Temple seemed to be just the work of commerce. Let it be done elsewhere, he argued. Of course, his actions were radical, and noteworthy, and look how he was “rewarded” for trying to separate commerce from “the house of God.”

I once experienced what I felt was very similar to what Jesus felt that day.

I was in Guatemala on a Mayan study and tour, we drove to the town of Chichicastenango. It was said to be a sacred city where the oldest version of the Popul Vuh exists. We were going to visit one of the holiest Mayan sites, which was once a pyramid in the town, upon which a Catholic cathedral had been built a few hundred years ago.

To get to this site, we had to walk through several blocks of narrow passageways, densely populated with booth after booth selling jewelry, artworks, fabric, clothing, food, herbs, and all manner of trinkets. There was no escaping the throngs of vendors, to whom any eye contact meant maybe you wanted to buy what they had. The narrow passageways were so thick that you literally had to bump shoulders with everyone else, and the hired tour guide yelled out to all of us to carry our daypacks in front of our bodies to thwart pickpockets.

I began to feel that I had descended into a hell of sorts. I had not been feeling well, and I had just learned two days earlier that my brother had died. I was in the mindset of entering into a Holy of Holies, but to get there you had to pass through the gauntlet of the most overt commercialism imaginable. I withdrew deeply into my self, something next to impossible to do in such a public place.

Eventually, our group all arrived at the base of what was left of the whitewashed pyramid. At the top was the cathedral, where the church today allows the Mayans to practice their traditional religion. We would eventually enter the church and hear about its history, and see a Mayan priestess performing a ritual in the middle row of the church.

But outside, with the din of voices and screaming all around, the merchants booths were set up right to the edbe of the pyramid. People sat on the pyramid, and near the base, copal was continually burned and black smoke poured heavenward. The narrow passageways of all the corridors of booths led to this pyramid, and a constant throng of passersby moved constantly this way and that.

I felt awestruck by that unique spiritual “something” that was an inherent part of this special place. But why had the commerce been allowed to invade and over run this site. At least no vendors were allowed into the church yard or church!

But outside, at the base of the pyramid, I had a clear mental picture of the wrath of Jesus back at the Temple of Jerusalem, knocking the vendors tables over. I could see the Rightness in what he did. I felt such a strong desire myself – to be rid of the hawkers of ware in that holy place.

There was no way I would kick over a table of jewelry or other goods. For one, I was not feeling well and didn’t have the strength for such an act. For another, I was well aware that I’d be spending time in some out of the way Guatemalan jail cell, and that notion was very unappealing. I simply took in the moment, tried to feel the reality of the commerce that has overtaken us, and looked forward to my departure.



Yes, Easter is about the death and ressurection, a theme that is found in numerous religious traditions world-wide. It is a worthy theme to study and to plumb its mysteries. It is all about each of us allowing our ignorant ways to die, and to allow our spiritual divinities to be resurrected from the ashes of our pointless lives. But don’t forget that Jesus desired to kick out the love of money from the spiritual temple. That too is something that each of us should do in our own private lives.

And if and when we get the courage to actually do this, do not expect your friends and family to smile in approval. You would be wise to look at story of Jesus to see what you should expect, and to plan accordingly.

Dealing with 2012 Fears

When I was in Guatemala last winter, one of our impromptu teachers was a man who operated a jade store and Mayan museum. He explained the creation myth to us from the Popul Vuh, and then began to speak about the Long Count of the Mayan calendar.

“But it seems like a lot of people really want the world to end!” he said, as we all laughed. He went on to explain – as my group heard over and over – that there are no predictions from the Mayans about the “end of the world” or doom and gloom. Some poor journalists must have thought they heard “end of the world” when it was only “the end of one calendar cycle.”

“Yes, anything could happen,” he continues, “but it’s good to stick to facts. The Maya don’t say anything about the end of the world. In fact, they have dates listed for several thousand years from now. If they thought the world was coming to an end, why did they use those dates?”

Our main teacher, Miguel Angel Vergara, speaks after the laughter dies down. The December 21, 2012 date completes the 13th Baktun of the Long Count calendar, a 5,125 year long period of time. To the Maya, 13 was the number of completion, transformation, spiritual advancement. So why do so many think of it as a “bad luck” number, Vergara asks us. He offers an answer. Perhaps it is because we know that spiritual transformation is hard work, and it means leaving behind our bad habits and vices. Perhaps they do not want to evolve, he said. To those people, 13 is thought of as “unlucky” because they do not want to give up all the things that hold back their evolution.

Vergara then asked us to list our fears about the 2012 date – either our own fears or fears that we have heard others voice.

The list was predictable, and he wrote them on his white board.

The Unknown.

Death.

Suffering and pain.

Family.

Losing things.

Vergara then addressed these “fears” one by one.

Yes, the unknown is a mystery, he told us. He paused, and then emphasized to us that the past is the past, and is over. The future is the unknown. It is only the present that is our real gift. There fore, we need to simply focus on the present, and not let our minds run away in the past or the future.

Death. Yes, we will all die. We will. And so? Accept it, and then live your life fully.

Suffering and pain. Again, Vergara said, yes, life is full of suffering and pain. That’s life. It has nothing to do with 2012.

Concern for our families. Vergara smiled and said, “They will survive without us.” He acknowledged that everyone is concerned about their families and this is natural. But we need not have an imbalanced worry about whether or not someone else might or might not survive a situation. Just carry on with living your life.

Lastly, he addressed the notion of losing things. We will lose things, he said. That’s life. Whether in catastrophe or in ordinary life, we lose things.

Vergara paused and said loudly, “Think! You all of us have ALL that you need. You have cars, money, homes, and you still suffer. What are you fearing? You are all like millionaires [sometimes he would say billionaires] compared to most of the people in the rest of the world.

“We buy what we need at the supermarket. We have lost our inner warrior. We are weak and we are comfortable. We don’t want to fight.

We need to change our thinking and become fighters again. Nothing is ever for sure.

When I used to visit a friend, we’d go outside and pick oranges outside from the tree. Today, the children are busy texting and they don’t even want to go into the kitchen.



What is the best formula to recover this part of ourselves?

He offered many solutions. He described ceremonies that we could perform to reconnect with the earth, and our divinity. He said Love, Real Love, is a part of our solution. Vergara added that “Ninety-nine percent of the time we fail to solve our problems because we don’t knock on the door of divinity. We think that our ego will solve our problems. We know all the things of the outside world, but we don’t know our Self. Are first task is to Know Thy Self.”

He emphasized the need to avoid fear, and go forward with our purpose in life.

“All these fears,” said Vergara, “are phantoms created by the media. The main purpose of life is Self-Realization.”