The Deeper Side

A photo collage for you

2011-03-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

I'm heading home for Clark's Fork today. Exactly one season away from home. (I left the day after Winter Solstice, returning, the first day of Spring)
For those of you who just like pictures, this is the place to see what I saw this year in Guatemala.
Ken's Picassa Web Album
For those you who would like to hear about some of the experiences check out some of the other posts on this blog. (If you have not already)
Peace
Ken

The good, the bad and the ugly

2011-03-10T16:05:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm back now. Was going to say back "home" but many of you know that for me "home is where I hang my hat." I'm in Seattle now, I just came back from helping with a flat tire incident, my hat is soaking wet and I am cold. Still happy to be here with my Seattle family, I get to see Rhianna and family this weekend-----everything is peachy.

What's this about the good, bad and ugly?

Those of you who have been following this blog may know what I'm referring to, but since the posts go from the most recent and then into the past some of you don't know that my dear family in Guatemala was torn apart by an extortionist.

Beautiful Thunderhead

I will post three entries here simultaneously. This one I will be my good old proactive, (Pollyanna) keep things on the bright side self.

The next one will be a quick recap of Brigitte's trauma and current situation.

Same thunderhead with the "Guatemalan" touch (It's behind bars)

The last ( "the UGLY" ) is a news clip that aired on PBS last week. My sister shared it with me, it deals with violence in Guatemala, in particular violence against women.

I stayed with Clara her husband Axel and their two kids Brigittette, and Alex for two weeks after the rest of the family had to flee to Holland.


Alex, Axel, little Brigitte and Clara

I am at this moment a bit torn between the tranquil lifestyle I had for four weeks in Guatemala and the abundance that I have around me here. A few hours ago I was sitting at my office (Starbucks) waiting for a tire to be fixed. The place was full of people doing lots of important things.
At one table in front of me there were two people very busy multi tasking. All at once they were -talking to each other - each of them had laptop computers they were working on- (Macs by the way) - and they both had iPhones they were fondling- (at times even using them as phones.) Oh yeah, there was a newspaper that was being read from time to time. I looked on despairingly. Then I realized what I was doing -- Having a cup of coffee, while a tire was being fixed for me, while I listened to a podcast, while I checked my e-mail and facebook on my iPod. (If I had a phone there would have been a phone call or two in there too.) --- MY GOD, I'M BEING SUCKED INTO THE ABYSS. Three days ago I was in heaven simply sitting on the veranda having a cup of coffee! Now I'm back to the world of multi tasking.

The Bad

2011-03-10T16:04:00.001-08:00

The house from up on the mountain. photo courtesy of Jacques

For those of you checking in on this blog for the first time here is a quick recap of the incident that pretty much turned my trip (and the lives of seven other people) upside down.

About three in the afternoon of Wednesday February 15th. Jacques (Brigitte's dad) found an envelope with a note and a cell phone that had been pushed under the gate on the driveway.

Everyone was there except Brigitte who was working in Guatemala City that day. The note was addressed to Brigitte, and said: (I'm summarizing) "We know who you are, we know what kind of car you drive, we know your husband (ex husband actually) lives out of the country and we know where your son Joris goes to school. You will pay us 30,000 Quetzales (about $3,900) or you son will die"

Brigitte did not return home. Jacques, Joris and I packed essential things and took a taxi to Guatemala City where we hooked up with Brigitte and a colleague who put us up in his house. (A beautiful house he owned with his sister in a gated and guarded community not far from the city.)

Brigitte made a report to the police, and with the help of a friend of a friend (who has contacts high up) cut through enough bureaucratic bullshit to get the attention of Guatemala's Attorney General. None the less, it was agreed that Brigitte, Joris and Jacques should leave the county immediately, which they did three. (Brigitte told me on the phone how strange it was to be "exiled" in her own county.) Can you imagine going to work in the morning and not being able to return to your home that evening?

Friday I went to Antigua and got a room for a few days. Sunday I returned with Jacques and helped him gather up a few more things, said goodbye to him there and stayed on with Clara and Family for the rest of my time in Guatemala. I did not feel in any danger. The times that I was available for a hug, or had a lap for one of the kids to sit on made the rest of my time in Guatemala totally worthwhile.

I can not close this portion without interjecting my personal view.

My friend Brigitte is a caring, resourceful and proactive person. I feel very lucky to have met her. (I owe that to a group called Servas that we both belong to. It is an international service group dedicate to world peace. You can check that out here: Servas.org )

Brigitte is a fair skinned woman from Holland, who has lived in Guatemala most of her adult life, she was married to a Honduran man, but she has been raising their son alone for many years. Add to this, she has adopted and is supporting an indigenous family and building a house and working and traveling throughout Central America promoting fair trade and labor practices.... and the list can go on. I think Brigitte could be considered one in a million in regards to being a female living in a Latin American culture.

With all this in mind, it is my feeling (I'm not alone) that the lowlife who has caused all this suffering is one of the workers she had helping her build her house. There are times when they stole from her, times when they flat assed took her money and did no work. They charged for materials that never made it to her house, and
Brigitte pretty much carried on, accepting this as "the way things are done in Guatemala"

I feel the culprit is one (or more) of those "machismo" men who got their pretty little Latin egos bruised by my friend who could stand face to face with any of them and say what was on her mind.

photo courtesy of Jacques

OK, I have said my piece. Every moment in our lives is a turning point. I witnessed a major turning point in the lives of two families I care for. I have witnessed how strong these people are and I have no doubt that down the road life has many more treasures to offer them.

Right Joris?

I agree with Ken!!

The Ugly

2011-03-10T16:04:00.000-08:00

Specifically this has nothing to do with Brigitte, Clara and families, but it does give the context of what is happening around them.

Below a ink to a video:

PBS News piece on violence in Guatemala

I do have a little story regarding violence here in Guatemala. How I got this story is actually pretty humorous. After dinner one evening, we are struggling to have a little conversation about what I'm going to do when I get home. Remember, at this time, there's me, who speaks little Spanish and Clara, and Axel and family who speak very little English. I (feeling pretty proud) explained that I was going to fly to San Diego to see my 92 year old mom who has lived by herself since my dad died several years ago.

Axel explained to me that his mom has also lived alone since his dad died 28 years ago. He also explained that it was not a "bad" thing, because his mother was physically abused by his dad, and after he died (alcohol related) she chose to live alone and wanted to have nothing to do with men.

By the way I was humbled a bit when I learned that Axel's mom is 105 years old, and that she has 11 children ------- Yikes!!

Ignorance is Bliss??? Bliss is pure attention.

2011-03-03T16:10:00.000-08:00

The recuring theme for me on this trip has been "Ignorance is Bliss." I am not sure why, and I am fairly certian this is not a "trueism."

Alex Goofing Off

It first came to me at a concert I was attending with Brigitte and family. The opening group was a fantastic accoustic trio (guitar, violin and drummer extraordinaire) I was pretty much captivated by this group as were most of the other 800 or so people there. Directly in front of me there was an ugly conflict unfolding. It was a bit of a distraction, but frankly the music was so captivating I was not disturbed. Well it got to the point where Brigitte's friend had to summons the police, and about then I got to thinking that due to the language barrier, ignorance was bliss for me

Widening the scope of that thought I have many times on this trip been brought back to the fact that Suffering exists and there is no shortage of it. The hard part for me (being the "happiness junkie" I am, is knowing when is the right time for me to let the suffering in?

I am just thinking out loud, I have no answer.

Is it when I have something to offer to alleviate some suffering? Is it only when I feel strong enough to accept the reality of how much suffering there is? Or is it totally out of my hands, going back to the "ignorance is Bliss" theory.

Yoga Antigua Studio

Like I said, I have no answers at this, time, it has been a totally humbling experience to me, living here this past month. The contrast is almost overwhelming. Such a beautiful native population, living for the most part in extreme poverty, yet you see that they are for the most part living their lives in joy. Then there is the corrupt side, which I think is really not much different than the corruption in my country. It is just that the corruption here and in other third world countries is just much more visible, in your face so to speak. The type of corruption we experience in the US is behind so many closed doors we are fooled (I believe) into a cocoon of faux safety.

That's enough rambling for now, let´s see if I can find some nice pictures to make this more palatable, in case there are other "happiness junkies" reading this.

The view from the Yoga Studio

Tranquilo esta Bien

2011-02-25T10:45:00.000-08:00

All is calm here, I am happy to be staying busy with some projects and especially happy that I can be here for emotional support for a bit longer.

I have been dwelling a lot on the (to me) paradox that life seems to be. I sit on the veranda at Brgitte's house, everything is as is was a week ago, the sounds of birds in the distance, kids playing, clouds rolling by. Total tranquility. Without a sound, only a one page note, the tranquility was destroyed and replaced with despair. I know that peace is alway availble, and it can only be found by being present in the moment.

O.K. I am finding peace and even great joy here, staying in the moment and being with whatever it is that is coming up around me.

The paradox for me is that I also know that there is a deep well of sadness, despair and poverty, not just here in Guatemala but many places in the world. How can someone live on $15 to $30 dollars a month. I can not fathom it, but billions on Earth do. (Many of those people living happier lives than most folks in the US. How can I possibley make a difference in this chasm of poverty?

The answer to that takes me back to the beginning, be present in this moment! Non the less, the paradox persists.

Some Contrasting Images from Guatemala

2011-02-22T18:32:00.000-08:00

Been to Antigua in the past
five years or so?
Recognize this guy?
(Answer is at the end.)

Brigittette (Little Brigitte.)

Street beggar.

Alex

Street performer
(I did this at the Folklife Festival.)
(No, I was a wizard!)

Alex, Jacques and me

Young native girl in her
"Sunday Best" Chasing bubbles.

Shoeshine Boy

Another poor street beggar.

Yoris playing with the iPod

Guy with shotgun.
(If there is money or someone important there,

you will find at least one of these.)

Don't mind him, the church in the background is magnificent

This the guy pictured in the beginning
I first saw him 5 or 6 years ago. I think he owns this piece of the sidewalk. He begs from there (on his knees) for at least 8 hrs. A day. I've seen him joking with locals, I don't think he's down and out.


And from Lennon, The last word:k What's for dinner?

The bad apple story

2011-02-20T17:14:00.000-08:00

It is Sunday Feb 20th. Last Thursday afternoon Jacques found a note with a cell phone that had been slipped under the gate. It was an extortion note threating the death of Brigitte´s son Joris if (about) $4000 US was not paid when demanded. I plan on writing more in depth on this, but for now a short synopsis.

It is hurting me to recall the grief that ensued over the next 48 hours. Brigitte was in Guatemala City at the time, and we joined her that evening where a friend put us up in a safe house. A statement was made to the police and (whatever is the Guatemalan version of the FBI) A friend of Brigittes came to her aid with another friend who has contacts high up in the government. (Again in US terms) The Attorney General of Guatemala is involved with this case thank to that friend. Never the less, the NGO Brigitte works for, the Dutch embassy and most others agreed that Brigitte and family should leave the county now. As I write this Brigitte and Joris are on a plane to Holland. Jacques will be leaving Thursday. Leaving behind a house just recently completed, a Guatemalan family they were sharing life with, three horses, three cats, a dog, a car-------and much more.

I am back in Antigua, I am not a target in this affair. I have found a nice yoga studio and signed up for ten classes, and I plan on spending most of my time back in Santa Lucia with Clara and family. I want to do what I can to help Clara, Axel, Brigittette and Alex through this transition.

I still believe in the inherent goodness of mankind, and I am still touched by the beauty and kindness of the Guatemalan people. "Bad Apple" is a poor analogy for this situation. It is horrendous how just a little evil can destroy the dreams and visions of two wonderful families. Add to that the fact that Brigitte has spent her adult life devoted to bettering life for 3rd world people, and all I can say is THIS SUCKS!
Is there a "bright side", a "silver lining"? Right now there is too much grief here to be looking for it.
We are all safe and sound, and that is good.

Santa Lucia Milpa Altos

2011-02-14T14:32:00.000-08:00

Santa Lucia Milpas Altos, Guatemala. 2000 meters (6500 ft above Sea Level. Now I understand why I was so out of breath climing what thought was a little hill, I just came from a month or two
living at sea level to over a mile high.
Here's a link to a google earth picture of my neck of the woods for 4 weeks. Santa Lucia Milpas Altas, Guatemala I

I am located in what appears to be a shadow above the "A" where the houses end and the mountains begin.

Here is a portion of my Journal with a few pictures. Next trip to Antigua I will elaborate:

The Journey here – Long but uneventful, fortune was with me, thank God for the two other gringos that arrived on the same flight. I figured I would be on a plane full of tourists and that there would be dozens of shuttles to Antigua. On the plane I saw only Hispanic people, and everyone I talked to had a ride (to somewhere else), I realized that there may not be a shuttle to Antigua. The thought of riding the public bus for two or three hours after no sleep was not appealing to me at all. Any of you who have ridden the “chicken busses” here in Guatemala will understand. Luckily there were two young Americans I did not see on the plane that had secured a shuttle which I tagged along on for only ten dollars. It cost me about 8 bucks more than the chicken bus, I got there three times as fast in luxury – TOTALLY WORTH IT!

Introducing the Family

The house from up on the mountain

Close up from the same place

It took a few days to acclimate but since then Jacques and I have been working every day as Brigitte’s live in “Mr. fix it guys” Since that is what we both love doing, esta vida perfecto!!.

Two years ago Brigitte and family were in a rented house, she has just moved into this beautiful house she designed and built on her own. (That is another story I would like to elaborate on)

For those of you who did not follow my journal last time I was here (or don’t remember) (we are prone to more and more “senior” moments these days.):

Brigitte is a wonderful young lady from Holland who hosted me last time I was in Guatemala. She has lived here most of her adult life, and does very meaningful work in the areas of sustainable farming and cultural preservation. She is the director for Solidaridad in Central America, look here ( http://www.solidaridadnetwork.org/ ) if you would like to learn more. Living here is Joris, Brigitte’s son, Clara and her two children (Brigitteteke, and Alex.)(Brigitteteke is a name derived from a combination of Spanish and the Dutch dialect of Mestreechs) Sometimes Clara’s husband Axel is here, he works on an avacodo farm on the other side of the mountain.. Clara and Axel are an indigenous Mayan family that live in a very symbiotic way with Brigitte) Add to that Jacque, Brigitte’s father who visits for a few months every winter and myself and the house is almost full.

Yikes, I almost forgot the most important residents Vadel, Pluma and Trueno caballos extraordinaire. (The horses don’t actually live in the house). I think it would be safe to say the Brigitte lives for her horses.

The whole family was called away unexpectedly for a funeral today, and I am honoured that she has trusted me to care for her loved ones. But I digress, for I have not finished introducing you to my Guatemala family. Three cats also live here, (forgotten their names) and Lennon the mellowest Basset Hound I have ever met.

Casa de Brigitte y master Lennon

MORE SOON I HOPE...............
(I am have a bit too much fun to be wanting to hang out with a computer.

Peace
Ken

Alex and Lennon

Jacques, Brigitteteke, Alex y Yo having too much fun for the camera to focus on

Leaving the Northwest soon, gotta share some family pictures

2011-02-07T16:24:00.000-08:00


Jenna and me having our morning coffee

This is a real potpourri of pictures, ranging from my trip North to Seattle with a few Christmas shots thrown in for fun.

I am leaving this evening for 4 weeks out of the country, and I don't know why I put so much energy into "worrying" about forgetting to bring something I will need. In all my travels, once I am on the way, I know I have everything I need, and I've survived losing things I thought were crucial more than once. (Wallets, plane tickets, I almost lost my wife and one child on the way to Mexico once- we all survived)

At any rate, so far this Winter has been a grand adventure now I look forward to revisiting and playing with my Guatemala Family. Hopefully I will have something useful to offer besides play,
but when all else fails I am exceptionally good at goofing off.

The boys playing helicopter pilot

Case in point, can you see the look of pure childish pleasure on our faces?

(That's a helicopter over my son in law's left shoulder)

Little Mt. Shatsa (I think)

This is actually from my drive down to Berkeley, but Mt. Shasta was just as gorgeous on my way back in February!

The Tacoma family has a new resident member.
Grandma Cheri (Grammy) has moved to Gig Harbor, and judging by the grin on her face I think the move has sparked some of her childhood creativity.

Egan hurt is leg a few weeks ago playing Superman, but finally he is up and walking/running/jumping again. No surprise there,
I don't think you can keep that guy down.

Personally, I think they both look great in my hat! (But they didn't get to keep it, they have to grow into it first)

Kayla shining her light.

Kayla and Joshua having a quiet moment

Grandpa flying his plane with the Bedients

All in all, the past six weeks has been primo pilot training time for me. I have flown in winds that I never thought I would be able to fly in. I have flown at truck stops along the way. Honestly I don't make very good time while traveling by car these days. I am always on the look out for new sites to fly.
In Berkeley my flying spot was a beautiful park on the San Francisco Bay, and I probably did give myself a few new gray hairs flying over the Bay.

Taking an afternoon walk


Kayla bombing down the sidewalk on her Princess Bike

Time to close this and put away my computer. I will be updating this from Guatemala next time. I'm not bringing this computer, so it will be interesting to see what I can do checking in with my iPod and from internet cafes. Don't be expecting much spell checking :)

Adios Amigos

Leaving Berkeley and 1958 flashback

2011-02-03T10:14:00.000-08:00

I have had three marvelous weeks in Berkeley, played a bunch, worked a bunch and even made a side trip to Santa Cruz to see Avery the newest addtion to our family (my grand nephew) You can see he loves his pet chickens.

I feel great gratitude for my California friends and family. It's nice to get away from Winter weather and especially nice when I have a creative job or two to work on. This year we did a fairly major kitchen utility room remodel/face-lift at Masia's house in Berkeley.

Here's a clip of "Hobbitville" in Berkeley a very cool (and old) building complex in
Berkeley. Hobbitville

Had a great two day drive North to Shay and Rob's house and big fun playing with Jenica and some new toys (big kid and little kid)

I am experiencing an old phenomenon I call "So much external stimulation - no time for reflection"

My choices at this moment, sit here and journal some more, get outside and enjoy a beautiful sunny Groundhogs Day in Oregon City, talk my son in law into taking a break from his work and flying (rc airplanes) with me, go get the fixings for dinner tonight, have lunch with my daughter.

I choose "all of the above -- minus the sit here and journal part. However, I promise myself to get back on track with my mission to tag or bookmark significant times in my life. Maybe the firecracker in my dad's cigarette story will be next.

Here's that story: The year was 1958, my best friend and fellow hell raiser was Nandor Kuhlman, a Hungarian friend from St. Thomas Catholic School.
We had a great fort out in the back yard made from 3 or 4 appliance boxes hooked together. For some reason we had a firecracker we didn't know what to do with. Then we got the brilliant idea to steal an unopend pack of cigerettes from my parents, carefully open it from the bottom and take one of the smokes and conceal a firecracker in it, then reseal the package. When we were done, it was a masterpiece you could not tell that the package had been opened. Then we were a bit perplexed about what to do with it so we hid it in our fort. (I think the complete plan was to go into a store and sneak it back into their inventory. Pretty lame if you ask me.)

Fast forward several months, it's Saturday morning, I'm upstairs watching cartoons and my dad comes in from cleaning up the back yard. (demolishing our fort) he has a pack of cigarettes in his hand and a very stern look on his face. Color me stupid, or color me utterly naive, but I talked my way out of being in trouble for smoking, and completly neglected to tell him about the firecracker. (I think it must have been the raw fear that caused my mind to blank out)

Less than an hour later I am rocked back to reality by the sound of a BANG coming from the yard. My dad appears almost instantly, the stern look back on his face, but I think he was secretly proud of my "prankster abilities." I remember what he was most upset about was it could had been mom smoking that cigarette. That was the last cigarette I ever loaded with a firecracker, but it was just the beginning of my pyrotechnic adventures. There was the bomb blast of 59 that had me in the doctors office having dirt picked out of my face, and the 4th of July circa '78 that punctured my eardrum. (That was the last of my "boom boom" adventures!)

Berkeley the "Flashback" city for all old hippies.

2011-01-12T22:15:00.000-08:00

I have spent a bit of time the past few days walking around the Campus of U. C. Berkeley. The Students are gone on Winter break and when you subtract the students, and the women, you get a very high percentage of Jerry Garcia look a likes wandering around the campus. (If I hadn't shave my beard off last month I would be one of them.)

What can I say?
That's Bazerkeley

On the personal quest to tag my life to chronological events I got to thinking the other night I do remember where I was during a few major earthquakes, and those earthquakes where easy to look up on the web;

Feb 9th, 1971 at 601 am (22 yrs. old) I had a near death experience. It would have made for a weird headline. "San Fernando Earthquake kills hippie in Pasadena basement, the house is intact, a 30# fire extinguisher fell and crushed his head" (Actually it missed me by a good 8 to 10 inches!) What was I doing sleeping in the basement? That's another story.

May 18th 1980 at 8:32 a.m. (31 yrs. old) Mount St. Helen blows. I did not feel the ground shake, but I did hear the explosion 300+ miles away. I know it for a fact because I was by myself loading rock onto my 2 ton truck (one of many many loads for the rockwork on our two houses and the garden walls) I heard what I thought at the time was someone blasting, later I factored the speed of sound with the distance I was from St Helen and that explained the noise I heard.

Borah Peak Idaho, October 28, 1983, 6:06 A.M. (34yrs. old) Cheri and I are laying in bed in the Studio (before the "big house" was finished) The first thought was that a bear was shaking our back door, then we notice the hanging lamps swinging and realized it was an earthquake. It was centered in Challis Idaho about 350 miles away. In Challis there was extensive damage and two children were killed by falling debris on their way to school.

Now I have time bookmarks for 13,18,22,31,34 years old. I am going to use the "Read More" sections for myself to fill in some of the interesting back story on these events. If your reading here I must not have bored you to death yet and I thank you for reading on.

The first story taking place in Palo Alto was during one of our cutting school, bike hike days. Myself and Tony Wynne (and other school mates also, I think) would take off on our bikes and do an all day loop through the foothills above Pasadena. Here's the weird twist that makes this back story phenomenal. About three years ago I'm sitting at the computer and I get this impulse to look up Tony Wynne an old old friend from elementary school I have not heard from in 45+ years. I did a Google search and sent an e-mail to someone in the Bay Area I thought could be the same guy. The next day I get a response from Tony with the picture of the carving I made in 1961, it turns out that at the time I was thinking of him he and his brother happened to be at the place we hung out on our school ditching days. They found that carving and took the picture with his phone. (Pretty amazing coincidence huh!)
I need to add that Tony was an expert at drawing and carving perfect pictures of our idol those days: Alfred E. Neuman of Mad Magazine, his carving apparently did not survive. Bummer.

California Sunshine

2011-01-09T17:50:00.000-08:00

My friends stuck in the "frozen white North" are going to be a bit jealous at today's treats. I drove my car with my windows down and I got to listen to birds singing!!
Flew my plane twice and had a lazy day traveling!

Correction on the 1963 historical blog entry last week. It was actually 1961 and I was thirteen when I cut school that day. I did the math, I left Palo Alto when I graduated from eighth grade I turned fourteen that Summer!
I have one year out of 62 nailed down now, here's another: 1966 I Graduated from High School and I was eighteen.

I thought an image would be nice so here is the Senior class for Pasadena High School, I found it on Google images, This is Pasadena Texas however, our class was much bigger (1100 +/- grads in my class)

Talent Oregon - The ONLY "Talent" in the US

2011-01-08T14:48:00.001-08:00

I'm heading for the Bay area for a few weeks of "working" vacation. Made the decision yesterday to fly down to Guatemala in February --- Yahoo!!

I'm trying out this website for lodging (for this little trip, I have a GREAT place to stay in Guatemala.

It's another "power to the people" site, check it out!
http://www.airbnb.com/

On the road agian - New resolve - New everything

2011-01-05T20:42:00.000-08:00

This year I don't think it's going to be the standard travel blog of previous years. I am inspired to write more while out in the wild world, but this years resolve is to:

Stay in the wild world while:
Reflecting and chronicling the phases and transitions in my life (tweet style, 140 characters or less) and:
Take time to reflect on these life experiences that have shaped me (In a longer form but set aside from this blog)

I will keep it fun for me by including photos - old and new,
from time to time a little rhyme
And - Who Knows?
ANYTHING GOES!

Yes the date is May 20th 1963. I was a school day.
It was at a college party bar in the foothills of Palo Alto
I was 15 Yrs Old!
NEWS AT 11:00

Update: Got to figuring in the middle of the night, it had to be 1961, I left Palo Alto the Summer between 8th and 9th grade - That would make me 13 yrs old for my first "hanging out at the bar" experience.

2011 - getting closer to HEAVEN

2011-01-05T14:39:00.001-08:00

140 characters - perfect length for a soundbite. Heard it on NPR must be true. My goal: ken's life in tweets http://moredepth.blogspot.com

Transition, Change and other "Morphatious" things

2009-04-15T11:25:00.000-07:00

I did it again, made up another word: "morphatious". I looked up morph in the dictionary and it described the complete process of change, For example a computer graphics program that can morph a snake into a bird and the transitions are so small you can't see them from one frame to another.

I think it's a good word to describe everything. It is only an illusion that something (anything) you are are looking at right now is unchanging. One quick example, but I think that most of my readers know the constantly changing nature of everything.
There's a bottle sitting on my desk right now. It does not appear to be changing, however at one time it was just silicon sand, and a year form now it will most likely be recycled into something else. I just looked at it again, it appears the same but it has moved thousands of miles through space (along with the rest of the planet) and even if I I can not detect it it has moved along in the decompostion process.

Well, it seems to me that there is not anything that is unchanging (anything in this world of "things" at least), so if I were to describe anything as "morphatious" it must be correct. Which actually describes the "enigma" of "describing" anything. We of the human species developed this thing called "language", well, language requires that we put static definitions on things that are not static, but as long as we acknowledge the the changing nature of things it works well as a communicating tool.

And that is just what I am trying to put my finger on. (Kinda like grabbing a handful of jello) I want to feel like I am the master of my destiny, like I actually know where I'm going and what I'm doing. But my reality is too morphatious ---- it's just changing and changing and changing-----I feel like Dorothy and Toto in the Wizard of Oz --------are we back in Kansas yet???

To be continued

(cc2 creative commons copyright #3.0)
Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License

What´s it all about Alphie

2009-02-21T17:38:00.000-08:00

I really haven't learned how to manage one blog, but I feel compelled to start another.

Que Pasa Ken ? Un poco loco in el cabazo?

This "sister" blog is a place for me to put some of my more in depth writings, (as opposed the the shallow witty pieces I really enjoy writing.) It's mainly a place for me to store them and edit them, but, I love to share.

Peace

Ken

Here and Now - vs - There and Then

2009-02-18T18:51:00.000-08:00

¿Passion for life, where does it come from, where does it go?

Here and now, that´s all that really exists, I know this. It is in the core of all the great teachings.

I must admit that I am a bit perplexed at the moment. It may be because I am in "comparison mode. (Or is that: "judging" mode) The question I am asking myself is "Where does Passion come from"
Here are some places it doesn´t come from;

dulling your senses
building a wall around yourself (figuratively or literally)
trying to "figure out" what is wrong
dwelling on the past (or the future)
pointing a finger outward and thinking "If only .....then....." You fill in the blanks.
I think for me all these things ring true. There is no passion to be found in any of these activities, the only possible exception is dwelling on the future. I am a builder of things and for me building includes the vision, the process and completion. Does passion dwell in the vision, or the process, or both?

I really don´t know the answer to that one. I do know that passion is a fleeting thing for me at times. My passion might be NIA dancing for a portion of my life, then it may be flute playing, or writing, or juggling, or building, or designing, or combining these things, or, or, .....

So what´s the deal. Is finding passion like trying to hold on to a handful of water, or trying to keep the bliss felt in one moment so it can live again in another moment.

I guess I´ll sleep on it.

I've slept on it a bit and my conclusion is that passion is similar to God, or Spirit on however you want to describe the Great Mystery. It is something that has no definitive form, yet it exists in everything we do and it always has unlimited ptoential. Venturing a step further on to the thin ice of defining passion:

It is the source of the energy we put into an action or activity. The amount of energy at the source is infinite, and individually we have choices as to how much of that passion we put into anything we do. We always have the choice: Do I open the passion valve a little bit here or open it all the way.

Passion is not a static thing, it is a mode of action. It is the "gusto" we put into the activities of our lives.

That has been helpful for me to (figuratively) spit this out. Now I can go back to my travel journal and make an entry for San Pedro which is what inspired me to write this.

To live outside the law you must be honest-- Dylan thinks so

2009-02-12T08:35:00.001-08:00

Guatemala is surely a county of contrast and without a doubt uno piaz muy ironico.
Poverty, desperation overcrowded houses and streets are just one wall (topped with razor wire) and a gate (manned with armed guards) away from living conditions many American would envy.

I have talked with many people, Guatemalans and others who think the government here is corrupt beyond the point of no return. All the wrong people are in jail, and the same goes for the people who are paying taxes (the wrong people pay most of them). (Actually, both those sound like the US of A)

Once you are away from the city there are not as many walls, but the contrast still exists. It's more than contrast actually, I think it is a schism. The extremely poor have no connection whatsoever with the world of even the moderately wealthy, As in some eastern countries living with the caste system there are people here who are born into a life of poverty, they will either farm, produce crafts at wages so low that survival is the only goal they have, or they enter the "serving" class. I was talking with an American last week about this, I asked the question: "Is there a road away from this leading towards equality?" His response was quick and sure: "No, there will always be 'haves' and 'have nots' ."For me to believe that is to live a life of despair. We are all in this game together, and survival must be a communal effort. In the past maybe it was acceptable to believe the world could be divided that way. Today there are no more "far away untouched places" nor can our planet (and it's occupants) tolerate much more exploitation.

Here's a quick aside, maybe to put the concept of competition in a new light. The word "competition" has it's roots in Latin, it means "to seek with"

We know now, the Earth is an intimate little world, everything has an effect on everything else.
I am encouraged by what I see as a New Wave (Yes it's a cliche, but I like it) That wave is just beginning to swell right now, it's nowhere near cresting,but it's building.

My father a devout Catholic and very learned physicist has put all this together in a concept he called "omni flux" the best I can explain it in words is: Everything everywhere, from the smallest atom to the largest system we can conceptualize is connected by omni flux. Omni flux is the invisible but real connective substance in the universe. What this theory has to do with what I am writing about is this: It is impossible to disconnect yourself from everything around you. Every thought, every action, every purchase, every decision we make sends ripples out that effect everything.

I've come a long way in this little essay just to say this. Next trip to the store of your choice, please take the time to look where something was made. Chances are, if it was made in a third world it was made with virtually slave labor. They are hard to find, and it costs more, but by purchasing fair trade commodities you are voting for a world free of the injustice of extreme poverty.

A few links should you be interested in learning more about fair trade.

Slowfood is about connecting ourselves and our communities to the food we eat, and becoming concious of where it comes from.

Ken Casler

(cc2 creative commons copyright #3.0)
Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License

www.solidaridad.

www.slowfood.com

www.fairtrade.net