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no_more_coffeeIt would seem that a recent update to my blog managed to bollocks up my captcha settings for comments.

This might explain why the blog was receiving no comments. :-/

Even if you don’t regularly read or comment; please leave a comment here at the blog to see if this is working.

And if you like, now’s a good time to register on the blog. šŸ˜€

That is all.

May this time of the year remind you of the peace that we should all share year round.

Just a note, the previous post was the 3,000th blog post from me since starting to blog in 2001. So here’s to the next 12 years and beyond.

side-by-sideIn the 1950s a mathematician/entertainer by the name of Tom Lehrer created a song called “Poisoning pigeons in the park.” The song in its opening verse posits the observation that with the onslaught of spring comes life. ā€œLifeā€ is described as full of skittles and full of beer.

I digress. Many today would think that Mr. Lehrer is referring to rainbow-coloured confections but would in fact be incorrect. Skittles first emerged in the early 1970s and the song is 20 years the elder. Skittles in this case is referring to either a pickup game of chess or a game of lawn bowling. this life is being compared to being full of thoughtful, strategic warfare or triumphing at knocking things down. Eitherwise (sic) it is not ‘tasting a rainbow Ā®.’

Sadly, we are not at the beginning of spring; life cannot necessarily be described as receiving it’s endowment of beer; but mayhap the metaphor of conquest and destruction may not be too far off the mark.

So, here we are at the beginning of autumn (also known as fall). This is the season where we harvest what we have sown so far this year and prepare for old things to die in the hopes of every birth in the coming spring. The Church that at one time I was heavily involved with has a series of rituals called initiations. (I would like to point out here that ā€œChurchā€ is both an accurate and inaccurate term. I use it for simplification and will not go further on that specific topic.) Members of The Church often describe these rituals with the term “karmic acceleration.” Personally, I have not attended one of these rituals in probably close to five years. Further, I have not personally gone through an initiation ritual in my Church in about a decade. One could hazard that I have spiritually hit what one could call “karmic stagnation.” I however would not. I have spent a good amount of time living life while at the same time trying to understand my direction, my failings, and my personal growth.

My personal growth has been around a philosophical analysis of one idea:

ā€œFor pure will,unassuaged of purpose, delivered from the lust of result, is every way perfect.ā€

For quite some time I have wrestled with the concept of actions ā€˜delivered from the lust of result.ā€™ While I could write on this topic for pages and pages; suffice it to say that after a great amount of time; I find myself focusing on the act for the motivation and purpose of the act; and not a desired outcome.

In some ways I could believe that I am ready for a personal initiation, but that must be brought about on my own at my stage of life and spirituality. This being said, over the weekend of the equinox I attended an initiation ritual presented by a branch of my Church. I have not actively participated in The Church in about five years. Oddly, it would seem that the “karmic acceleration “that is often felt by those taking the ritual is not limited to those individuals involved in the ritual. To say that my life changed overnight would be a gross misrepresentation, however I would be remiss to say that far too many coincidences have occurred within a short period of that event.

Surprisingly to me, I have felt murmurs of change in just about every aspect of my life over this weekend.Ā  It would seem; all of these changes are helping to improve these aspects of my life.

About five years ago I found myself moving away from being active with my Church. Between moving around the country and having a new child, certain things reprioritise in your life. By the time the family had resettled in Pittsburgh Iā€™d drifted into inactivity that was further exacerbated by no official outlet in town. While at one time Iā€™d been a champion supporter of my Church, now I had neither the time nor the energy to try to motivate a local presence.

About a month ago I took what I referred to as a Drive-about. (Walkabout at higher speeds) I found myself driving from Pittsburgh, through Columbus, to Chicago, and back by way of Cleveland. At each stop along the way I saw someone from different parts of my past. This unto itself was an experience because there are so many pieces from my past that I have changed in myself by either walking away or sweeping under the rug.

In each case, each old friend welcomed me with open arms. There is something special about people you were close to that you havenā€™t seen in time that can be measured in decades. Each one, in their way, gave me back a piece of my own history. The last oneā€¦ a person that I had not seen in almost exactly 10 years was a member of my Church. They invited me to ā€˜come backā€™ when there was an event.

I wish I could say the invitation settled easily on me; however, it was in fact a difficult process. Time and distance werenā€™t the only motivating factors influencing my lapse of participation and turning that around was also going to be a huge fight against momentum and cynicism.

Over the next month I put thought into the invitation and decided to accept. At the time I believed it was for two events: Initiation rituals for some new members of The Church and a private Mass. There was an irony in attending in Cleveland as this local branch was the place that I first was introduced to The Church over 15 Ā½ years ago. An introduction that would lead to my own process of learning to be a better teacher, person, Church Officer, Ritual leader, and eventually Ordained Clergy.

At the time of the weekend, I really didnā€™t want to make a big deal out of it. Honestly, I still donā€™t; but I feel the need to write about it and my personal observations. With the exception of family, and the officers of The Church I was visiting; few people were notified that I was coming out of my personal tomb of hibernation.

The initiatory ritual was as beautiful as I remember it. And I was utterly surprised at myself at how much of the ritual I remembered verbatim. Granted, I have also performed this ritual several times. I remembered my own experience as the recipient of the experience, which again was over 15 years ago. I remember how much the experience spoke to me internally as well as externally. And I was very touched to be there for three strangers who took their first steps in The Church.

That evening was a general social event/dinner for the public at the temple to celebrate the Equinox. When I opted to visit, I did not realise that the weekend was over the Equinox. I have found a wonderful passage that I think deserves to be included. This is from an excerpt from ā€œThe Path of the Spiritual Sunā€ by Belsebuub and Angela Pritchard:

The autumn equinox is a mysterious time. It marks an essential passage in the process of enlightenment that is often overlooked, misunderstood, and mistaken as dark and heretical.

It is the time of balance between day and night, before night takes over and brings the coming winter, a time of darkness and death. This duality between light and dark exists within humanity, and in the work of spiritual transformation. All things must die before they can be born, all spiritual ascent requires descent first, and all those who long for light must firstly face their own inner darkness and overcome it. The autumn equinox symbolizes a stage of inner preparation in the process of enlightenmentā€”to make way for the Son to be born within at the winter solstice.

That evening was a level of kinship, fellowship, and fraternity that I think had been missing from my life for potentially too long to even note. Granted this kinship included an extended game of ā€œCards against Humanityā€ which is always an open chance to push your own morals and ethics to the edge against your own tolerance for humour and political incorrectness.

The next day was a private Mass. And here was the full circle of my spiritual process in the Church. The branch that had shown me the Mass as my first event was now the branch showing me Mass after a long hiatus. And it was amazing to see both how much it had changed in the eyes of one who had travelled from Tabula Rasa to Traveled Ordained Clergy while at the same time how much was innately the same.

I was so taken with the ritual that I have to admit that I actually stumbled through the process of communion. Granted, in my own defense, I am used to branches of the Church that offer small (shot glass sized) communal cups, and the branch I attended was offering full glasses of wine. As a communicant I donā€™t think I have felt the mass as a whole so deeply as I have since being a communicant under the clergy/church officers that taught me in Los Angeles. Again, despite time and practice, the liturgy was sharp in my memory.

With the mass over, I had to bid farewell and make the solo drive back to Pittsburgh. Youā€™d think that Iā€™d spend the several hours while driving mulling over the experience; but there was no need. It was what it was and to elevate it beyond what it was would be to give it unnecessary power. In retrospect a few weeks later, I think that this mindset it what makes these rituals so strong when left to their own devices.

Earlier, I mentioned that the ā€œKarmic Accelerationā€ inherent in these rituals, especially the initiation is often quite powerful to the participants. This ritual can also have a profound effect on the officiator(s), the congregation, and on the local branch itself. I would be greatly surprised in short order how quickly the effects of this would be felt.

Upon arriving home without going into too many details, I find myself completing several work projects and taking others onto new levels. One new implementation project that had hit several blocks opened up very quickly and is for lack of a better term blossoming.

The continual process to improve home financing and budgeting turned a major corner. This corner includes not only finding more available budget startingā€¦ nearly immediately, but also the realization that several longer-term debts are close to closure (our 2nd car for example becomes paid at the end of the year) I give immense props to my MiL (also an ordained member of my Churchā€™s clergy) for giving me a lot of advise, smacks to the back of the head, and support on the rebudgeting.

I also was able to bite the bullet and clean and arrange parts of the house that were still lacking in move-in organization. And as of this past weekend have expanded my DIY talents by replacing an old, rusted mailbox. (See the picture at the top of the post.) Similarly, I was greatly surprised to see a crossover of hobby and work when one of the other Architects told me he was looking into exactly the type of electronics I have been experimenting with.

Some might thinkā€¦ well, thatā€™s easy. Obviously you need to re-embrace your Church. Iā€™d obviously be lying if I didnā€™t indicate that the temptation is high. Happily motivated by a series of potentially corresponding coincidences; one could easily let resultant accomplishment drive faith. However, to do so, solely on this, would undo most of the personal work Iā€™ve done. To jump on this with this motivation would be a lustful pursuit of result.

When I was an exchange student to Europe (which was a long time ago) there was effectively a contract that the American students (at least) had to sign with the organisation. The rule was that you would not travel back to the country you were in for a period of time. My memory seems to believe it was a year; it may have been shorter. The idea being that it was so easy to be seduced by a short taste that you do not take a fair consideration of the seduction and lose sight of a normal life.

Iā€™m by no manner suggesting that it would be a year before I return again. The emphasis for me is understanding what has motivated me away; what Iā€™ve seen that motivates me back; and most importantly, what is are all the things in the middle that Iā€™m not seeing that will pull me in both directions?

So, the bottom-line: The leaves have begun to change. Some older parts that wither while turning colours are going to fall away. The bitter night must be given its fair chance to wipe the slate clean with a dark yet pure white blanket. As the spring approaches, life begins anew. Life built on the survivors of the dark, cold winter, but also Life grown new from the old giving way to start fresh.

The future is as it always isā€¦ an unwritten book. But now I have some old books and binders put away on forgotten shelves to find and read again. Some to influence my next chapter and some to be reminders that everything is always new again.

I love the idea of blogging. I love having a platform to stand on. It’s my place, my words, my ideas, my philosophies; It’s my ball, that I can take home when I will.

In the wise yet untested words of The Doctor,

“Am I an old misery? Life and soul? Right-handed? Left-handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor, a liar, a nervous wreck? I mean, judging by the evidence, I’ve certainly got a gob.”

So why do I post with such forthright interest and intent and then walk away for weeks or months at a time? Honestly, as I type this introduction I don’t have an answer. I do have some theories and speculations percolating; however, these could merely be excuses rather than a deeper understanding.

So, for anyone who bothers reading this (assuming I let anyone other than myself read it) you will be asked to accept a few things that happen on occasion in my posts.

1) This is written in the voice I speak in; not the voice that is used for written posts.

What this means is that I am going to write what I think, not for format. There will be sentence fragments, poor use of written punctuation fitting a written post, and occasional things left dangling more than occasional participles.

2) I will make effort to ignore the first item from time-to-time and write as if I cared about how it looks on the page.

What this means is that I will embellish, rewrite, run things through grammar and spell checkers, and do many things to try to reduce the lack of faith I and others have in my intelligence and measured solely by my writing quality.

Yes, I was one of those kids who cursed a B- that was graded down solely for the grammar and spelling especially when informed that it would have been an A+ paper for the content if the grammar hadn’t gotten in the way.

3) Unlike a lot of my writing there is no planned out organization in advance of my thoughts. I will write until I am content or bored. There is no outline for this post nor is there an expected narrative, nor (Crap linked negatives, stay with me here) intended direction. I’m just hoping for insight into my posting morass.

4) This trip is like driving cross country without a map, GPS, or asking directions.

What this means is that I’m going to let my ADHD out in its fullest so there will be digressions, side trips, and getting very lost.

Okay, rules are in place. They aren’t for you; they are for me. To reassure me that there aren’t any seat-belts and the car is full of gas.

I’m full of ideas.. I’m full of opinions… Why do I post with great intent and then walk away.

Digression the first… not the last… and probably not to be counted further.

Normally, I find myself most wanting to post when I am emotionally attached (Usually annoyed) enough to be wanting to talk on a topic. And there are plenty of topics I want to rip off about: (Politics, Social Justice, Organizational Dynamics, Media, The Patriarchy vs. Feminism, Stupidity, The Dumbing Down of our Culture, The Engineering of Our Cultures Apathy, Thelema, Fundamentalism, Fundamentalist Thelemics, oh the list goes on)

I also find that when vaguely depressed (which considering all these topics, can be fairly easy) that my desire to write about them gets mixed with sour feelings, apathy, and a general belief that nobody cares (including myself)

Tonight… I find myself neutral. I find myself desiring to write; but having nothing specific to write about. Which seems like a perfect time to turn the magnifying glass on the one thing that annoys me most but doesn’t have me depressed. My own writing.

As mentioned, I love to blog. I love to put the proverbial “It” out in the proverbial “there.” I have high admiration for many people out there who maintain constant media creation. My two highest regards are for “The Ferret” and for “Ken Ray.” Both of them create consistently powerful content. In the case of Ferret, he produces amazing writing. Every time I read his material I feel like running away and hiding. Even the most common things show me someone who lives life as fully as they can while still being a fully relatable human being. I am envious of his writing. Ken Ray has been podcasting as long as I believe people have been using the term podcast. He has a daily show that almost never misses and when it does miss a day he either warns people in advance or throws an announcement on. He may be the first person (not initially a commercial venture) to bring the concept of 5 9s (99.999% uptime) to a podcast.

Digression:

There is a quotation from Aliester Crowley’s ‘Book of the Law’,

“For pure will, unassuaged of purpose, delivered from the lust of result, is every way perfect.”

For those of a Thelemic bend I will now wax in a manner described as a Centre of Pestilence. To those uninformed of such punishments, I choose to interpret what this means. I do so for me, not you. If you disagree so be it, if you agree, you have to agree for yourself, not because I interpret it that way. 93==YMMV.

This concept of Lust of Result was something that took me a long time to understand and to navigate around. To me, the statement suggests that you do not do things for the recognition of the ends but you focus on the doing. Of course this begs the question, “But what about the idea that the ends justify the means?”

Many people get into blogging for the recognition. Lately I watched and quickly thereafter weaned myself off of a program on the SYFY (which like others I pronounce Siffee) cable station about Cosplaying. The accolade more important than the effort, the love, the pursuit of perfection… the show really wedged me away from the representation shown.

My wish to blog is not based in a desire to be a blogger. I don’t want any recognition for having an awesome blog. I don’t want people to flock to my blog because they heard it’s great for A or B or C or worse… Because it’s the blog that everyone is following. (A slight delay while I ask a friend for a vocabulary word I couldn’t remember) God help me if I cultivate hipsters and please stop me before I become a religious or philosophical icon.

I should point out that neither Ferret nor Ken Ray I believe are bloggers for the sake of being bloggers, I think their content speaks for itself. (Not the first of my potential self contradictions)

I’m trying not to run out of steam already.

So, I want to post; but I don’t want to post because I’m supposed to post. Isn’t that just a recipe for having an excuse not to have an excuse.

In general, I know that I can easily frighten myself off of a post. Partially with audience reaction, or the lack thereof; which is interesting when I think I should be posting for myself.

Now I’m pushing myself to write because I know that if I stop; this post will not get finished at least to a degree of what I want.

I find as I begin to lose steam, I allow distractions to intervene into my writing. Opening up chat conversations, looking up things on the interwebs, or in general losing my place in the writing.

I like Journaling. I like writing my thoughts but I really feel judged; even by me on them.

Let me do a recap.

I want to blog; I admire bloggers who have in my eyes succeeded without compromising what they are doing. I want my words to be what is important not the action of blogging. I want my words to have impact without impacting… Well, hopefully impact because of the thoughts not because I wrote them. (Yeah, that Lust of result thing… it’s a bitch) I want myself not to be scared of what I’m writing; but I don’t want to force myself into a block.

Are we having fun yet?

I think I see a trend. I think I see some things… Not sure what yet. But I think I might come back sooner rather than later… But then again… I probably won’t.

Sha… So, Doctor… Did I make any progress this session?

This post is not for my dearest Heather (who really needs to stop reading this now) as she’s lived through this more than enough for five lifetimes.

I am still gathering thoughts and impressions over this. I also still fully intend to write a book on our experiences. But one can say that after three and a half years this part of the journey is over.

I am home recovering today because going back into work on the East Coast Monday morning after 10 days on the west coast and travelling roughly 8 hours on the day before with a 4am wake up and landing at midnight (Pacific) (an hour late) may not have been the wisest idea.

During the case we asked for $1.4(M). This was based on several things not the least was permanent spinal damage that was going to cause a life of pain managed by monthly prescriptions of closely monitored narcotics, MRIs every 1-2 years to assure the damage wasn’t getting worse, the loss of our ability to have further children (Narcotics really aren’t good for children in utero), and the general upheaval to our lives. (The breakdown was $1M for Heather, $300K for myself, and $100K for Aiden)

The testimony of the “Independent” Medical Examiners, which is legal talk for Doctors hired by the defense to destroy the credibility of the injured party, were horrifying. Both made Heather out to be someone who was suffering from Scoliosis from before the accident and overselling her pain. They also went so far as to say that narcotics were bad for her.

The closing argument from the defense attorney was horrid. Any desire I ever had for legal work evaporated as he bent the misinformation into truth and bent the truth into unreliability. It was in a word sickening. This included such statements as, “I’m an only child and I’m happy.” I do not know how this man lives with himself. And I hate the argument, “You were just doing your job.”

The jury came back and awarded fair damages for medical work done in Washington (<20K which will likely all go to repay subrogation), but once we moved it was considered unnecessary. I’m not really sure how leaving a state cures someone. They believed no future medical costs were necessary. There was some pain and suffering as Washington mandates its award if economic damages are awarded. On Aiden and my behalf they awarded chump change for pain and suffering. Of whatever we see, 25% goes to the lawyer as payment.

Our lawyer informed us that two jury members utterly believed our story and were prepared to offer us what we asked for. One elderly woman however utterly felt that Heather was a narcotics addict and believed everything else. And the rest of the jury… compromised in the middle. Well conservative side of middle.

We’ve now seen what works and what horrendously doesn’t work in the Justice system. We know the games and powers that insurance companies use to batter away at the will and confidence of victims.

Make no mistake, Heather has received permanent spinal injury from the accident that she was a victim of. The type of injury can cause an array of neurological damage that she as been blissfully spared (so far). At the same time it also causes pain that is on par with delivering a child 24/7 and will live with that forever.

The insurance company and the defense lawyer where solidly aware of that. But did their jobs to undermine her as a victim. That is their jobs. Ours is to learn and to change the system so that the innocent aren’t damaged to the level we were.