WHAT I DID ON "GOOD FRIDAY"

 

WHAT I DID ON “GOOD FRIDAY”

Christopher Nyerges

[Nyerges is the author of many books, such as “Searching for the Meaning of Life,” “Watermelon Dreams,” “Urban Survival Guide,” “Extreme Simplicity,” and others.  More information can be found at www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com.

 

One year, during the Easter weekend, I saw a picture of the Pope dragging a wooden cross along the path that Jesus is said to have taken after the trials, on his way to Golgotha.  The Pope was commemorating what Catholics call the Stations of the Cross, significant events along the way while the beaten Jesus was dragging the very cross that he would be nailed to.

In the case of the Pope, the article indicated that the Pope’s cross was made of balsa wood, weighing about 5 pounds, and it was fitted with little wheels so that it could be rolled, and didn’t really require any physical strength to carry.

This caught my attention because of the unique exercises I have done with the Survival Training School of Highland Park, beginning in the late 1970s.  The School’s focus involved physical exercises, running, jumping, and other activities that bring the student to their physical and mental limits, with the goal of extending one’s perceived limits.  Needless to say, it was a strenuous regimen, and the number of students was never large.

This was not a religious school, though the headmaster, who also taught Yoga when it was not popular, often attempted to incorporate spiritual or religious principles into some of the curriculum.  For example, we all did an activity called “Cross Bearing” during Good Friday, sometimes on the following Saturday since the classes were always on Saturdays. The instructor told us to look at what happened to Jesus after he was brought to trial and beaten.  We were told to attempt to grasp the intense physical pain that Jesus had to have undergone, and then, after being beaten and bloody, was forced to carry a heavy wooden cross.  Our exercise was then to select logs at our class site, and to carry one over our shoulders, up and down the unpaved driveway to the hilltop school.  We were told to do this physically taxing activity in silence, and to breathe deeply during the slow walking.  In fact, we were given a whole series of instructions on how to breathe, how to deal with the pain, and how to ask our “higher Self” for assistance in continuing just a little bit beyond where we felt we’d reached a limit.  It all fit right in with our general school curriculum, which was intended to be real, and uncompromising.  As I said, the number of students was never large, and many of the student were mysteriously “out of town” during the Good Friday event.

Once a reporter called us to ask if they could come and photograph the event.  “Sure,” I responded.  “This is a religious activity, right?” asked the reporter.  “Well,” I began.  “Not exactly.”  I then tried to explain that this was not some sort of Good Friday replication where we wear robes and whip ourselves, but rather that it was part of a very secular martial-arts-type school where there is focus on physical and mental expansion.  “Oh,” she replied, “we were expecting something else,” and they did not come.   Clearly, what they wanted was to see someone – preferably dressed in a robe -- pulling a small cross on wheels like the Pope, while parishioners stand along and pray along the path. 

Nevertheless, this has been a highpoint for me nearly every Good Friday for the past approximately 40 years.  In the very beginning, I was able to do the Cross Bearing with a section of a telephone pole!  These days, my “crosses” have gotten smaller, though I still focus upon the same breathing techniques, and the same mental focus of  quietly looking at my own “crosses” in life as I slowly walk up and down the driveway.

I am well aware that in many parts of the world people have tried to literally re-create the crucifixion as a way to intensely remember the pain of Jesus.  In my files, I have photos of Catholic groups in such diverse places as Mexico, Guatemala, and the Philipines, where some participants actually get nailed to a cross for a few minutes. They have doctors on hand, and they use sterilized nails.  In other places, the “celebrants” actually get bloody-whipped and the observers take it all very seriously.

Though I have no interest in having someone drive a nail in my wrist, or whip me, I still derive great benefit from my personal focus upon taking on a bit more of a challenge than I think I can.  Though I have respect for the people who choose to replicate Jesus’s ordeal, it still strikes me too much as trying to take on the appearance of something, rather  than actually deeply feeling what it’s all about, regardless if anyone is watching.

This year, just a small group of students from the Survival Training School showed up for the Cross Bearing event.  Everyone carried segments of tree branches from some recent tree-pruning. It was quiet, intense, and deeply moving to everyone present. 

When I was a child, I sat in church on Good Friday from noon to three, not understanding the priest’s Latin, and finding the crowded church quite stuffy.   I sometimes fell asleep.  Somehow, the Cross Bearing, with no religious underpinning, put me more intensely in touch with the presumed theme of Easter weekend.

 

 

EASTER AND THE MAN BEHIND IT

 

EASTER AND THE MAN BEHIND IT

Christopher Nyerges

[Nyerges is an educator, and author of such books as “Extreme Simplicity,” and “Self-Sufficient Home.”  His book “Squatter in Los Angeles” is available on Kindle.  You can learn more about his classes and activities at www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com.]

Jesus!  You say just that name and everyone knows who you mean.  What a man he was!  What a life he must have lived!  He is known and literally worshipped by at least a third of all humanity, and around whom our current world system of reckoning time revolves.  Amazing! And perhaps the even more amazing is that there is still so much debate about who he was, what he did, how he lived, and what he believed.  Hundreds of differing Christian sects are stark testament to the fact that though Jesus might have had “one message,” that message has been widely interpreted and debated over the centuries.

Let’s work through some of the most basic facts. As an historical person, he can be placed in a specific time and location.    All historians concede that they do not know the birthday of Jesus, but it is widely acknowledged that the birth date is not  December 25.  Most scholars suggest that Jesus was born in either April or September, in 4 B.C. or 6 B.C. of our current reckoning. Herod died in 4 B.C., so that was the most recent date he could have been born.  Some place his birth as early as 10 B.C. in our current reckoning of time.

“Jesus” was not his name!  Really? Then why do we call him that? “Jesus” is the English rendering of Yeshu, or Iesu.  Did he have a full name? Yes, of course, and it was not “Jesus Christ,” either, which is a title, meaning Jesus the Christ, or Jesus the Annointed.  Historians say that the actual name was Yeshua ben Josephus, that is, Jesus son of Joseph.  Another version says it is Yeshua ben Pandirah, Jesus son of the Panther.   In Indian literature, he is referred to as Yuz Asaf.  When mentioned in the Koran, he is Isa (or Issa).   Dilletante “historians”  have suggested that “Jesus” didn’t actually exist because they were unable to find “Jesus Christ” in other contemporary historical records.

WAS JESUS BLACK?

Ethnically, culturally, and religiously, he was Jewish.  But occasionally, a writer will suggest that Jesus was actually black, with such evidence as the preponderance of the “Black Madonnas” found throughout Europe.  The only Biblical evidence on this are the two lineages of Jesus provided, which, unlike any other person whose lineage is recorded in the Bible, include women. Look them up yourself.

The key genealogies of Jesus listed are Luke 3: 23-31, and Matthew 1:1-17.  In these lineages, we are told of at least four of the women in Jesus’ genealogical line.  These are Rehab, Ruth, Tamar, and Bathsheba.  Rehab (also spelled Rahab) was a Canaanite.  Tamar was probably a Canaanite.  Bethsheba, often referred to as a Hittite, was more likely Japhethic, that is, not a descendant of Ham. (However, this is not clear).   Ruth was in the line of Ham. Now, who was Ham?  Who were the Canaanites and Hittites? 

 

According to Genesis 9:19, all mankind descended from  Noah’s three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth.  Ham’s descendants became the black people who settled in Africa, and parts of the Arabian peninsula.  His sons were Cush, whose descendants settled in Ethiopia, Mizraim, whose descendants settled in Egypt, Put, whose descendants settled in Libya, and Canaan, whose descendants settled in Palestine. The descendants of Cush were the main populace of the Cushite Empire, which extended from western Libya to Ethiopia and Nubia, all of present day Egypt, and the Arabian peninsula into the mountains of Turkey.  They spoke several languages and had skin pigmentation ranging from dark black to medium brown. 

 

It takes a bit of study to ascertain who these people were – and there were other possible African women in Jesus’ lineage as well – but, in general, when we are speaking of Cushites, Canaanites, descendants of Ham, etc., we are speaking of Africans.  It is entirely possible that this wasn’t a big deal when the scriptures were written since Jesus’ racial background was common knowledge.

 

So, although Jesus had some African ancestry, his physical appearance was such that he fit right in with the Jews of that era, based on  several passages that indicate that Jesus not only looked like every one else in a crowd, but was also a very average and normal looking Middle-Easterner, not sticking out at all.  Remember how the Roman guards had to ask for others to identify Jesus.  He was of an average appearance for that day and location, and blended into the crowd.

 

Though politely referred to as “rabbi,” his ideas about life, family, death, and relationships did not always mesh well with the religious elite, who viewed Jesus as well-intended, but nevertheless a trouble-maker to the establishment.

THE EARLY YEARS

It is worth noting that the Persian Kings (the so-called 3 kings) who sought out the infant Jesus were engaged in very much the same search that the Tibetan priests employed when seeking the embodiment of the next Dali Lama.  The Bible speak of the young Jesus talking to the Rabbis in the Temple, sharing his youthful wisdom with the elders to the surprise of his parents.  Then there is no Biblical record of what he did as a teenager, and during his 20s.  We don’t hear from his again in the Bible until his appearance on the scene at about age 30 or so, where he reportedly transformed water into wine at a wedding feast, and was depicted as a healer, prophet, and fisher of men. 

His religious observations would have been the regular observations for Jews of the day, and entirely different from the observations of most Christian sects today.  (The reasons for this are well-known and found in any encyclopedia on the history of the Church.)

Growing up as a Catholic, I studied Jesus, and often wondered, what did it really mean to “be like Jesus”?  There was so much about this person that was beyond my ability to research.  For example, what Holy Days would Jesus have observed? Was he an Essene?  Was he a Nazarene? What did these groups believe and practice? Did he really have any Buddhist influence?  Who were his closest followers, the apostles?  What did he actually teach his close followers, beyond what is known from his various public talks?  Were his miracles and public healings actual events, or were they symbolic stories?  These and other questions have always swirled around this man called Jesus.

 

As a student of the real and historical Jesus, here are just a few of the many books I have found to be useful.

Garner Ted Armstrong of the Worldwide Church of God in Pasadena, wrote a book about the “Real Jesus,” and Jesus was described as a hard-working, athletic, health-food eating powerful man, a sort of health advocate Gypsy Boots of the past who also spoke about the Kingdom within.

 

Holger Kersten in his “Jesus Lived in India” book presents a very different Jesus, the very one who is depicted on the Shroud of Turin, and one who was actually recorded as traveling to India,  and who studied from the Buddhists.

 

According to Harold Percival in his “Thinking and Destiny” book, Jesus succeeded in re-uniting his Doer and Thinker and Knower, his internal trinity, which put him in touch with his divinity, which made him, effectively, a God.  Though Percival’s terminology is unfamiliar to most Christians, he is less concerned about the historical details of Jesus and more concerned about what Jesus did, and became, that made him a focal point of most societies on earth over the last 2000 years.

 

Regardless of your religious background or belief, you are likely to be richly rewarded by delving deeply into the nuances of the details of who this Jesus was.  When everyone’s mind is upon Jesus and the Mysteries during the Easter season, I have found great value in viewing the “Jesus of Nazareth” series, and even such depictions as “Jesus Christ Superstar.”  Unlike so many who purport to follow in his path, I find a real Jesus emerging who was not dogmatic, but one who knew that only when we recognize each other’s humanity do we rise up into our own divinities.

 

 According to Holger Kersten, “Jesus did not supply theories to be ground in the mills of academia, about his path and message – he just lived his teachings!  Tolerance, unprejudiced acceptance of others, giving and sharing, the capacity to take upon oneself the burdens of others, in other words, unlimited love in action and service for one’s fellow human beings – this is the path which Jesus showed to salvation.”

 

 

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TEACHING FORAGING SINCE 1974!

 

TEACHING FOR 50 YEARS

NYERGES REFLECTS ON HIS TEACHING CAREER, BEGINNING IN JANUARY 1974

By Christopher Nyerges

[www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com]

 

At the end of one of my recent classes, wild food chef, Pascal Baudar, who is the author of 4 books on how to make delicious meals from wild foods, presented me with a gift in recognition of my 50 years of teaching wild foods.  Baudar, who is a true pioneer is his work, gave me a ceramic bowl that he made from clay that he personally dug and fired.  I was quite happy at this limited edition clay pot, and promptly used it to eat  a wild salad.

The gift of a hand-made clay bowl from Pascal Baudar.

HOW IT ALL BEGAN

My interest in wild foods arose from my childhood interest in hiking and exploring the Angeles National Forest.  At first, I was a backpacker who disliked carrying canned foods, but who loved the outdoors.  Wherever I went, I wanted to know about the plants and wildlife that resided there. And I wanted to know the history of the early peoples who resided there.

By middle school, I had an encounter with another hiker in the mountains who explained to me and my hiking partner how he learned about wild foods from Northern California native peoples. Really? I exclaimed.  What people? What plants? Are the plants still here?  The man pointed out mustard and miners lettuce and pine needles before he hiked away. And I could not get this idea out of my mind.

My studies then opened a new world to me.  In an overcrowded world of over-development, I learned that native peoples once exclusively resided where I lived, and they got everything from the land:  Food, medicine, shelter, tools, clothing. 

My studies rapidly took me down the path of botany and biology and ethnobotany.  There was no looking back.  I realized that all our man-made problems are mostly due to our disrespect for the environment, and our greedy desire to extract more from nature than what is ecologically possible. 

I pursued botany in the urban areas, in the mountains, deserts, beaches, in Mexico, and in Ohio when I lived on my grandfather’s farm.  In botany, I found a positive solution to most of our problems.  By my mid-teens, I was no longer pursuing this from a fear perspective, but rather from the perspective of the excitement of re-discovering the living legacy of native America. 

I read every book on the subject I could get my hands on.  I made friends with native Americans near me.  And I started writing my first book.  I would hitchhike up and down the west coast, supplementing my diet with wild foods. I would go into the local mountains to test myself, living off wild foods for a week or a weekend at  a time

By 1974, I was asked to lead a wild food walk for a local non profit, WTI, based in the Highland Park section of Los Angeles.  I wasn’t sure I could do it.  I had just turned 19, and thought that there had to be far more qualified people out there.  But I said yes.  The founder of the non-profit, Richard White, tutored me in how to be a good teacher.

 The very first formal wild food outing conducted by Nyerges in January 1974.

The outing was advertised in the local papers, and 100 people showed up one January morning in 1974 at the entrance to the Angeles National Forest in Altadena.  We walked along the stream, and I identified native and non-native plants. We collected greens along the way. We walked two miles up the canyon to a campground, with perhaps 70 of the hikers still with us, and there we made a salad and soup, and there were a few side lessons on such things as dowsing and fire-making.

It was a wonderful class, and I learned some important lessons about teaching and learning to respond to students’ questions.

It was a long day, and there were only 12 of us left in the end.  And it started my lifelong professional interest in teaching ethnobotany, and all the other related skills.

Nyerges, right, leading a wilderness field trip.

 

With a few exceptions, I led field trips just about every weekend since then, many of which were overnights.  I taught hundreds of classes through the local colleges, and gave more lectures than I remember.  There was no internet back then, but every local newspaper and nearly every local radio and tv station eventually interviewed me about the wild food foraging walks I conducted.  Interestingly, there was a lot of ridicule in the beginning, though that is now a thing of the past.  

I had the good fortune to meet and study with botanist Dr. Leonid Enari, who taught at the L.A. County Arboretum. Among other things, Dr. Enari worked closely with me on my first book. 

 Dr. Leonid Enari, Nyerges’ primary botanical mentor.  Nyerges refers to Dr. Enari as the “greatest botanist that no one knows.”

Big among my influencers was Euell Gibbons, author of “Stalking the Wild Asparagus” and promoter of Post Grape Nuts.  I only met him once.  

Christopher Nyerges (right) met famous forager Euell Gibbons once in 1975.

Over the years, I have travelled throughout the United States teaching these skills.  I appeared on many local news stations over the years, once appearing with Ron Hood, who was one of the top survival instructors in the country.   I was very busy during Y2K.  I appeared on Huell Howser’s popular show, and I consulted for dozens of TV shows, including Naked and Afraid, and Doomsday Preppers.   I’ve written thousands of newspaper and magazine articles over the years, from such publications as the Los Angeles Times, Mother Earth News, Pasadena Star News, Prepper Guide, Countryside, American Survival Guide (of which I was editor for a bit), and Wilderness Way (I was editor for 7 years).  And as of today, I have written 27 books, mostly on wild foods and self-reliance topics.

Nyerges, center, conducting a survival skills class.

One of the greatest benefits has been meeting so many outstanding people in the course of teaching perhaps upwards of 50,000 students.  This is how I met “chaparral granny” Dorothy Poole, and Tongva elder Barbara Drake, who involved me in teaching Indian Education classes for a number of years.  This is also how I met wild food chef Pascal Baudar. 

Along the way, I met some of the finest instructors around today, most of whom became a part of my ad hoc, peripatetic staff, people like Gary Gonzales, Rick Adams, Paul Campbell, Dude Mclean, Alan Halcon, Rob Remedi, Keith Farrar, Jim Robertson, Angelo Cervera, and many others.

Fifty years of teaching foraging and self-reliance has been quite a roller coaster.   I look forward to the next 50 years!~

 

 

DISCOVERING SANTA CLAUS

Christopher Nyerges

[Nyerges is the author of several books, including “Watermelon Dreams,” “Extreme Simplicity,” and “Urban Survival Guide.”  This article was originally published in "Watermelon Dreams," available from Amazon.  More information available at www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com]

 

Christmas was always a special time, though in my very earliest memories, there were no religious overtones.  I was taken to church every Sunday, of course, but the Christmas decorations and gatherings were all something that happened at home, not at church.  When I was too young to speak, I realized that Christmas was the season that happened during the coldest time of the year, and it meant that we’d have a fire going in the fireplace, people would be coming over, and there’d be lots of gifts and food.  The food was cookies, tangerines, and walnuts.

            One of my earliest Christmas memories was when I was told that Santa Claus would come to our home and bring gifts, and that he had some way to figure out where I lived.  I didn’t know exactly why, but there was a great mystery about this fat, bearded, red-suited Santa man.  People spoke about him in hushed tones, and would even sometimes stop talking about him when I came near. 

            My brother Tom told me that Santa Claus would come down the chimney – something I found hard to believe considering how fat he appeared in the pictures.  We both peered up into our fireplace one day and wondered how Santa could get through the narrow passageway.

            “Plus, doesn’t dad have a screen over the top of the chimney to keep the pigeons out?” Tom asked.  I didn’t know.  “I hope he remembers to remove it for Santa.” 

            On Christmas Eve, our dad showed us a plate of cookies and a pot of coffee that had been set out for Santa. 

            We barely slept, and I tried to not sleep so I could be the first to rush out and catch a glimpse of this Santa.  But I fell asleep, and Tom woke me and Rick.  We jumped out of bed, and ran down the hall.  We weren’t particularly interested in gifts, but we wanted to catch Santa.  We were too late, but the three of us carefully examined the remaining evidence.  There were no cookies left on the plate – only crumbs – and there was only a small amount of coffee left in the cup.  Tom held the cup and carefully peered into it, and then Rick and I stared into the cup, examining the last remaining proof that Santa had come and departed.

            “See?” said Tom.  We all continued to stare into the cup a while longer, as if it might reveal some secrets to us.

            In a few more years, I noticed that people didn’t fully hide their comments from me when speaking about Santa Claus. 
            “He believes in Santa Claus?” was met with muffled response.  What an odd question, I thought.  Why shouldn’t I believe in Santa Claus?

            When I actually learned about this mythical aspect of Christmas, I did go through a period of confusion and even anger at the world of make-believe perpetrated entirely by adults and foisted upon me.  I suppose I felt bad because I really wanted to believe in Santa Claus, and I felt that he was a positive figure.  And I had been told to “be good” for Santa Claus, and that Santa Claus knew everything I was doing.  I was very puzzled by all this, but I got over it.

            In fact, I felt very uplifted when I learned that there was an actual historical person upon which Santa Claus was based: a Catholic bishop in Asia Minor (Turkey) of the 3^rd century named Nikolaos of Myra gave gifts to poor newlyweds around Christmas time.  A century or so later, sainthood was bestowed upon him, and he was known as Saint Nicholas.  In honor of this very real person, people began to give gifts to others, especially others in need, during the Christmas season and say it was “from Saint Nicholas.”  What a wonderful story!  What would have been wrong with telling me that historical story rather than the garbled mythology?

 

THE ROOTS OF HALLOWE'EN

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The Roots of Hallowe’en:

Is it possible to observe a pre-commercialized version?

 

[Nyerges is the author of several books including “How to Survive Anywhere,” “Extreme Simplicity,” and “Foraging California.”  Information about his books and classes is available at www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com.]

 

 Why has the day of All Hallows Eve – Hallowe’en --  devolved into a day of  fun and fear?  How was this once- Holy Day commemorated before it was all commercialized into a scary night?  Is it possible to discover the roots of this day, and observe it in its original fashion today?

 My circle of friends attempted to answer these questions.  We determined that we’d need to dig up whatever historical facts we could find that show how this day was commemorated before 1700, more or less.  Though we couldn’t be 100% certain, we at least assumed that “commercialization” didn’t really exist in 1700, and all the European and some American commemorations before that year probably retained some semblance of what the day was all about, originally.

 So, first, let’s begin with the day.

 It is believed that the ancient Celts observed something called a “Samhain festival” towards the end of October.  Says the World Book Encyclopedia. “The Celts believed that the dead could walk among the living at this time. During Samhain, the living could visit with the dead. Elements of the customs can be traced to a Druid ceremony in pre-Christian times. The Celts had festivals for two major gods—a sun god and a god of the dead (called Samhain), whose festival was held on November 1, the beginning of the Celtic New Year.

 This day, or period, was to mark the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter. 

 Samhain (pronounced “sow-in,” which means “summer’s end,” or the name of a god, or both) is seen by some Wiccans as a time to celebrate the lives of those who have died, and it often involves paying respect to ancestors, family members, elders of the faith, friends, pets and other loved ones who have died. In some rituals the spirits of the dead are invited to attend the festivities.

 Various sorts of activities done on Samhain have been described over the centuries. In Ireland,  Samhain was a time to take stock of the herds and food supplies. Cattle were brought  to the winter pastures after six months in the higher summer pastures. Then, the people chose which animals to slaughter before the winter. After the slaughter of the animals, there would be feasting. And obviously, if you aren’t an animal-raising farmer, how would you celebrate this aspect, except for the feasting?

 The Catholic Church was aware of all the so-called “pagan” observances, and had their own day to commemorate the dead, May 13. This began in  609 or 610 A.D., when Pope Boniface the 4th dedicated the Pantheon— the Roman temple of all the gods—to Mary and all the martyrs.  Later that date was changed by Pope Gregory III (731-741 A.D.), who dedicated a chapel in Rome to all the saints and ordered that they be honored on November 1.  This was done, in part, to overshadow the pre-existing Samhain commemorations.

In the 11th century,   November 2^nd was assigned as "All Souls’ Day" in commemoration of the dead.   So this began the use of the term Hallow’s Eve, or Hallowe’en for October 31.

Hallowe’en customs are similar to the observance of Dia de los Muertos or Day of the Dead, commonly practiced in Mexico and which can be traced to early Aztec times.  Apparently,  this “day of the dead” was originally commemorated in Mexico in May, and was changed to November 2 sometime after Spanish contact, possibly to correspond with the “Christian” tradition.

FOOD and GIFTING
Trick or treating in modern times goes back to leaving food and wine for roaming dead spirits and ghosts. The custom was referred to as "going a-souling" and was eventually practiced only by the children who would visit the houses in their neighborhoods and be given gifts of ale, food and money. It was believed the spirits of the dead returned to visit their old homes during this time, so in ancient times, people left food out for them and arranged chairs so that the dead would be able to rest.  

Treats called “soul cakes” were given out in memory of the departed.  The Middle Age practice of souling — going door to door begging for food in return for prayers — became popular and is even referenced by William Shakespeare in 1593.  This is obviously the root of the modern “trick or treating” for mini Snickers bars, a practice no doubt loved by every dentist.

Seasonal foods such as apples and nuts were often used in the Samhain rituals. Apples were peeled, the peel tossed over the shoulder, and its shape examined to see if it formed the first letter of the future spouse's name.  Nuts were roasted on the hearth and then interpreted – if the nuts stayed together, so would the couple. Egg whites were dropped in water, and the shapes foretold the number of future children. Children would also chase crows and divine some of these things from the number of birds or the direction they flew.  

COSTUMES
Celts would wear masks when they left their homes during the night hours during Samhain days, because they hoped they would avoid being recognized by the ghosts and be mistaken merely for fellow ghosts.

“Mumming” and “Guising” were a part of Samhain from at least the 16th century and was recorded in parts of Ireland, Scotland, Mann and Wales. It involved people going from house to house in costume (or in disguise), usually reciting songs or verses in exchange for food.  It is suggested that it evolved from a tradition whereby people impersonated the aos sí, or the souls of the dead, and received offerings on their behalf.  Impersonating these spirits or souls was also believed to protect oneself from them.   One researcher suggests that the ancient festival included people in masks or costumes representing these spirits, and that the modern custom came from this.

PARADES
Pagan Celtic priestesses and their followers would roam the countryside, chanting songs in order to frighten away the evil spirits thought to be out on Halloween night.  I wonder how that could be practiced in your neighborhood?

FIRES

Bonfires  were a big part of the festival in many areas of western Europe.  Bonfires were typically lit on hilltops at Samhain where everyone could see them, and there were rituals involving them.  We concluded that a small, safe backyard fire might be a good addition to celebrating the day, though we were pretty sure that local fire departments would take a very dim view if fires were built on local hilltops!

Bonfires comes from the root, “bone-fires” because the priests sacrificed animals and supposedly even people in an attempt to appease the sun god, while also looking for future omens. The fire was said to be a type of sympathetic magic, where the fire mimicked the sun, which has the power to hold back the darkness of winter.  Burning the fires was also believed to be a way of banishing evil, at least symbolically.

DIVINATION

Divination has likely been a part of the festival since ancient times, and it has survived in some rural areas.  In part, this meant that the spirits could enter your world.  Many of the food offerings and fires were directed to these spirits.   Or perhaps, some of the  crops might also be left in the ground for them.    These spirits were addressed in various ways, with food offerings, with walks into the ocean, with the idea to hold off any mischief, and perhaps to learn the future.

The belief that the souls of the dead return home on one night of the year seems to have ancient origins and is found in many cultures throughout the world.

CONCLUSION

So what do you conclude from all this?  Is there an ideal way to commemorate this ancient day, and still avoid the trappings of commercialization?  Is it even possible?

I like the way that the Day of the Dead is commemorated. There are altars with pictures of the dearly departed, and plates of good food.  Candles are lit, rather than a big bonfire which the local fire department would frown upon.  Families gather, and talk in respectful tones about their departed relatives.  Yes, of course, even the Day of the Dead has turned into wild partying in some quarters, but if you seek a return to roots of the ancient commemoration of the dead, perhaps begin here.  

Begin with family or neighborhood gatherings. Prepare a good meal, and keep in the mind the foods that your beloved departeds enjoyed. This is not necessarily because you think their spirits will come to eat (last I checked, ghosts don’t need to eat), but because having, for example, your mother’s favorite dish will give you another reason to talk about your mother, and to remember all the good things she did. 

This is at least a start, and it elevates our day of ghoulish and pointless fear-mongering into one that reconnects us with our roots.  

THE POWER OF WORDS

 

THE POWER OF WORDS

How a description of a soft drink earned a trip to Disneyland

Christopher Nyerges

[Classes and books by Nyerges: go to www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com]

 

Sometime around 1964, or so, my mother showed me an ad in the local newspaper.  You tell them why you like the  drink Orange Crush and you can win a trip to Disneyland.

“Why don’t you try it?” asked my mother.  “It’s just 50 words.”

My mother knew that I had an interest in writing so she naturally assumed that I would enjoy writing 50 words about a drink I never tasted in order to win a prize to the theme park that I found less than exciting.

“I’ve never even tried it,” I told my mother.  “I have no idea what it tastes like.” 
“Your father can get you a bottle at the store.  How about doing it, and I will mail it for you,” continued my mother.

I didn’t want to write 50 words about something I knew nothing about, but just to please my mother, and to practice my writing, I took my pencil and notepad and sat down to work. While the rest of the family was watching TV after dinner, I sat at the dining room table and began the painful process. 

“Crush is so good,” I started. “It makes me feel that I’m at the beach.”  I halted, and then wrote more fragments and sentences, trying to sound as if I knew what I was talking about. “It’s such a delicate flavor, well-balanced, and so creamy.”  I just kept at it and re-arranged a few sentences.  I was pretty sure I had 50 words.

My mother sat next to me to see how I was doing.  My brother came in and sat across the table and asked, “What’s that?”  My mother replied that we’d be going to Disneyland. I rolled my eyes in embarrassment.  Of course I didn’t’ think we’d be going to Disneyland, at least not because of this contest.

My mother began counting the words that I wrote in my notepad.  She counted twice. “That’s 51,” she informed me.  “It has to be 50 or less.  You have to take out a word.”

“Do you think they really care?” my brother asked.

I’m thinking that I won’t win anyway.  Here I was, writing about something I’d never tasted.

“Yes, I’m sure they care,” said my mother.  I read and re-read what I wrote and I found an adjective to delete.

“OK,” continued my mother, “now rewrite it on this 3x5 card, like it says in the instruction.”

So I carefully printed my carefully-crafted 50 words onto the 3x5 card and was done in 20 minutes.  My mother assured me that she would mail the entry on the following day. Once I was done, I went back to watching TV for the rest of the evening, probably Bonanza, and I never thought abut my 50 words again.

My day to day routine of my life continued and I had absolutely no thoughts about my 50 words, or Orange Crush.

Until a letter arrived at our home. My mother and older sister were jubilant.  I was a winner!  They shared this fact with the whole neighborhood.  Everyone else was excited but I was puzzled.  How could I possibly win.  I will be exposed as a fraud.  I was more confused than happy, and I’d still never had any Crush.

My family was far more excited than I was.  My mother read and re-read the letter. I was going to go to Disneyland on a Saturday in about a month. I could take two friends and one adult supervisor.  We were to meet at a local bus station and everyone would be driven by bus to Disneyland.  We would all get one free meal.  We had to agree that any photos taken of us could be used for Crush’s promotional purposes.  OK, it was starting to look like this was real.

It was agreed that my brother Richard, our neighbor Jeannie, and my mother would be accompanying me. I was still petrified that I would get on a bus and people would ask me about the soft drink Crush, and I would not know what to say.

My mother did most of the prep work, telling my brother and I what to wear, and how to behave, and that we should all stay together.

Finally, the day arrived and everyone but me was excited.  Yes, we were going to Disneyland, all expenses paid, but to me, Disneyland was the land where true excitement was always around the next horizon, with lots of rides and sense titillations, but very little of lasting value.  Yes, I liked Tom Sawyer’s Island, but I found most of the rest of it a very pointless retreat from reality.

I was very silent as we all boarded the bus to Anaheim, and I was silent as other children sang songs on the way to Disneyland.  My brother Richard seemed happy, and sang loudly with the other children. 

Finally, we arrived, and we did the usual Disneyland routine – Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, Pirates of the Caribbean, It’s A Small World. 

I do recall that the food was great. I had a delicious sandwich with my favorite drink, root beer.  And I never spoke to another child who had anything to say about Crush.  We just all went our own ways, and then went home. I was curious if all these other “winners” actually drank and enjoyed a drink that I’d still never tasted.  It actually came as a great relief as the day wore on that no one really cared if I ever drank Crush.

Finally, we all boarded the bus, and my father picked us up at the bus depot somewhere near Pasadena.  Rick and Jeannie excitedly talked about what a fantastic time they had. My father asked me how I liked it, and I told him that I liked my sandwich.  My father laughed.   I supposed that he laughed because he figured I’d have something more interesting to report than my sandwich.

As the trip faded into a distant memory, no one ever asked me about the trip to Disneyland, and no one ever once asked me if I really liked Crush.  I didn’t realize it at the time that no one really cared whether or not I really liked Crush, and no one cared whether or not I’d won the trip under fraudulent pretenses.

Within a week, we were sent a thank you letter and a small case of Crush.  Everyone was very excited, and I finally drank my first Crush.  I drank it slowly, trying to savor each sip, trying to see if its flavor was similar to what I’d already described.  Yes, I liked it, especially on ice.  It was smooth, better than most sodas, though not better than straight orange juice.

As for my tastes in soda, I don’t drink them much, but I still prefer root beer and old-fashioned ginger beer.

In the years that followed, I became more aware of the power of words and their ability to shape reality and to move people to action.  I then made a promise to myself to never again lie in order to earn some material gain, whether it was Disneyland, money, or whatever.

 

Book Review: Neil Strauss’ EMERGENCYgoogle.com, pub-8623877305223293, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0

 

Review of Neil Strauss’ EMERGENCY

By Christopher Nyerges

[Nyerges is an educator, and author of such books as “Urban Survival Guide,” “How to Survive Anywhere,” “Foraging California,” “Self-Sufficient Home,” and others.  His website is www.SchoolofSelf-Reliance.com]

 

I recently gave a lecture based on the decline of western culture, referring to such books as Morris Berman’s book, “The Twilight of American Culture” and others.  One of the other books I used to broaden the perspective was “Emergency.”

“Emergency” is by Neil Strauss, published in 2009.   It’s a thick book, 418 pages long, where Strauss takes us along on his survival adventure.  He’s a man who became very concerned that America was going to hell in a handbasket, and he didn’t want to go down with the ship.  He shares the facts as he sees them, and he spends the beginning of the book describing how he can find safe haven elsewhere, out of the United Stated.  He takes us on his journey of off-shore banking, multiple passports, the logistics of actually getting out if there was an impending crisis.  This is a man who was convinced that the U.S. was the worst place to be in the world and he was trying whatever he could to find refuge elsewhere.  That’s the 25 cent version anyway.  And though all of his research was correct, he made a fascinating and eye-opening discovery in his world travels:  Wherever he went, there were people working just as hard to get INTO the U.S., as he was working to get out.  Everyone wanted to come here to the United States of America.   It made Strass start to re-think his whole survival plan.

He decided to take another look at the United States, and see if perhaps he should set his sights closer to home. 

Strauss takes us step by step in this journey, where he began to enroll in various sorts of survival classes here in the U.S., and describes his learning process.  He didn’t know it at the time, but he was learning how to live with less, and how to live with very little in the forest, or his own backyard for that matter.

Among the many classes he describes joining and doing his best to master, included Tom Brown Jr.’s Tracker School where he learned to make fire, make a lean-to and sleep in it, cold and rain notwithstanding.  Remember, this is not a how-to book, but an entertaining book where the author explains how pathetic he felt, how vulnerable he felt in the big mean world, but by taking classes and learning hands-on, he slowly became confident in his own abilities, and his likelihood of surviving a disaster.

We’re treated to a cast of characters who inhabit the “survival” world, such as firearms instructors, hard-core survivalists, the CERT training, and even me.  Yes, among the many classes that Neil Strauss attended in his personal training program included the classes that I teach through the School of Self-Reliance.  He described learning how to recognize wild foods, and how we created meals that we collected from the wild that day.  He describes how he learned to make an archery bow from me, and how we made fire with the bow and drill.  He even talks about how I eat poison oak to develop immunity – though I do not recommend it to others because our body chemistries are so different.

I barely remember Strauss at the many classes of mine he describes.  He didn’t say much.  In fact, I only learned about his book because a friend alerted me to the fact that I was described in it.  I guess I felt good that I could make someone else feel confident, and feel good about living in the United States, decline or not.

Strauss talks about how he enrolled in the CERT (Citizen Emergency Response Team) program, which is a nation-wide program to get civilians trained and ready for emergencies.  Strauss talks about the training, the gear that he learned to use, and how the training altered his state of mind regarding emergencies.  “Before I would run away from a problem or disaster, and now I was running to it,” he explained. 

Strauss also describes a self-imposed three-day survival experiment in his own home where he could use no refrigerator, no gas or electricity, and couldn’t use the flush toilet. Everything had to be from the food, water, and gear he stored, and this was no small feat considering he lived in a smallish urban home.

As I said, it’s not a how-to book, but it’s loaded with practical experiences that anyone can adapt and apply.  You can find copies on Amazon.