Spiritual Climate Newsletter DECEMBER 2006 CHRISTMAS EDITION: INTRODUCTION

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The Institute of Spiritual Climate

Is proud to present

Its newsletter

of Social & Spiritual Commentaries:

SPIRITUAL CLIMATE®

Sunday, December 24, 2006

“It’s not a mindless, indifferent, blind universe. It never was, get used to it!

In the end, there’s still the Word; Everywhere, in Heaven and its Angels,

The Earth and the stars – Even in the Darkest Dark of the Human Soul.

It was there the Word burned brightest  And for a moment, I was blinded.”

. . . Archangel Gabriel

(Christopher Walken, Prophecy 3)

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A Christmas Story

By Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D.

(first published December 2004)

The night was cold and dark. Sand slid beneath the feet of a tired father who led the animal that carried his wife due with child. Dry cold air blowing with sand anguished a frontal assault moving in expectant waves like the rhythm a womb soon to give birth. Joseph looked above as his legs shifted, each step seeking balanced and complete strength from his winded body. He gained refuge in the light that shone from the sea of stars, twinkling and glistening like dewdrops on the petal of roses in the morning sun. Mary softly placed her hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed, leaned forward and with a gentle breath quietly whispered in his ear, “Joseph, I love you. Stop. Rest here a few moments.”

Mary and Joseph paused noticing their shadows growing darker against the seamless robe of grains called the desert. A brilliant Light seemed to grow from a star near the Belt of Orion. Looking up the light grew larger and more intense with the figure of a man beginning to emerge from the liquid light; entrancing with sparkle, fury and scintillation. “Hail! Joseph! Hail! Mary! It is I, Gabriel. The Lord sees your struggle and has sent me to aid you.” Joseph enlivened. Tears streamed from Mary’s deep eyes.

Gabriel circumambulated his hand and it emitted a sparkling Light that entwined Mary, Joseph and the faithful animal that carried her across the desert sand. Refreshed and revitalized Joseph began to walk and lead again. Gabriel spoke and said make haste for the dishonesty and deceit of Herod was not too far behind. He that would seek to kill or stifle this love in the name of self interests and fear is trailing you. For unto you are soon to be born a new dimension, a new dimension of consciousness. That which Was, Is and Yet to Be is coming into humanity from the door of your womb, aisha (Hebrew for woman). In the beginning was the Word and now the Word becomes flesh.

~ finis of story ~

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Welcome Friends, Students, and Readers of Spiritual Climate!

The above story was first published in the December 2004 Edition, and it has been rendered a classic by our readers as a breath of fresh air. We thought it appropriate to begin our Christmas Editions with this story each year.

Can it really be Christmas already? Seems like we were just getting ready for Trick or Treaters, and suddenly, poof! Christmas Carols and sparkling lights! Talk about Magic. . . Here is the Christmas Edition, hot off the presses!

Dr. Strickler delves into the beauty of the sights and sounds of the Season, while exposing the Truth of those who seek to avoid and destroy Peace in his article: “THE SPIRIT, SOUND and LIGHT of CHRISTMAS”

Adam Crosthwaite shares his experience of the true meaning of Christmas in any language in his article entitled: “AGREEMENT REALITY

Wendy Ford presents a new twist on her smashing celebration of the Season this year in her offering of: “THE GIFT of FRIENDSHIP”

Christine Ford explores the inward journey of the dawning of the First Light of the Season in: “THE CLOAK of CHRISTMAS, UNEXPECTED”.

And last but not least, a warm welcome back to Roger Clark, who shares with us an article for Christmas 2006 entitled, “COMING HOME for CHRISTMAS”.

The Staff of Spiritual Climate would like to welcome you to the solemn solitude available to all who seek.

Welcome to the DECEMBER 2006 EDITION of

the SPIRITUAL CLIMATE NEWSLETTER

Best of Love and Life to You and your Family 

Christine Ford

Editor, SPIRITUAL CLIMATE NEWSLETTER 

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter DECEMBER 2006 Part 1: The SPIRIT, SOUND and LIGHT of CHRISTMAS by Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D.

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The Spirit, Sound

and Light of Christmas

By Rev. David Strickler, Ph.D.

Christmas continues to be a fascinating season for me eliciting emotions of awe and splendor for most of the season, most likely built in part by my early childhood memories. Where I lived in Lorain, Ohio, was filled with tons of snow, wind and a wonderland that twinkled in the daylight sun. I remember looking out the window of our modest new home that my parents were thrilled to be able to buy on the east side of town on Michigan Avenue, just about 200 yards from the railroad tracks that carried the locomotives that my mother’s father, used to walk me across the street to watch, even in the cold weather, to count the number of train cars; he taught me the secret of knowing how many cabooses there were on the end of the train.

There were times I would look out the front window in amazement begging my late mother to allow me to go outside to shovel the driveway for my dad before he came home so he could ‘safely’ make it up the driveway. It would help to understand that during the period when I was born in Lorain, from 1959 to 1970, the area would receive tremendous amounts of snow. I can remember being out front watching the city snow plows finally make it down the side streets we lived off Kansas Avenue and as the plow passed by it would push 3-5 feet of snow in front of the driveway that I had helped my mother clear for dad. Mom and I used to look at each other and just pout, go down to the end of the driveway and clear what the plow had deposited. Tossing the snow to the side created a small mountain of snow shaped liked a cone. It usually was a community effort after the plows had come through; nearly everyone in the neighborhood came outside to clear the end of their driveway. Most of the parents had their children helping them and everyone had two piles of snow shaped like Indian teepees on either side of their driveway.

Once the driveways were clear, the neighborhood children and I would create a burrow to hide in to protect ourselves from the onslaught of: the neighborhood SNOWBALL FIGHT. No one ever knew who threw the first snow ball, but the next thing you knew there were snowballs and their accompanying sound effects from the kids who threw them flying everywhere and I mean from everywhere. This would go on for quite some time until of course some of the parents, sticking their heads out the front door would demand that their children come into the house IMMEDIATELY. I never really knew how long these snowball fights had occurred because I had no sense of time. My mother rarely called me in as soon as the other kids on the block, so I stayed inside the burrow I dug out, cocooned by the pile of snow from the sometimes wind, or snow flurries, or just a sunny day with very few clouds in the sky. I would look up into the sky and appreciate the wonderful experience of winter.

Darkness would seem to fall so early as I remember, but that was even better because there were some of my friends whose families had put lights upon their homes. When it got dark outside, the home would become lit up with those large tear dropped shaped Christmas Bulbs. I would stare in fascination at the arrangement of lights and sequence that some people used. Some used all of one color, like red, some used blue, some used yellow or green, and some used combinations or sets of combinations on their homes and shrubbery that they grew in front of their homes. I particularly liked the homes that would use blocks of one color let’s say for the windows, red, then outlining their homes with solid blue and using green lighting for the hedges or shrubs in front of or along the side of their homes. Boy, did those homes decorated in lights look pretty, especially at night when the darkness had fallen. You couldn’t see the lights very well in the day if they were lit, but the darkness gave the lights the ability to display their beauty and warmth.

So the necessity and allure of darkness, not in an evil sense, but in a sense of relations be came one of my first recognitions in regards to varying degrees of light and contrast in order to produce differentiation: and somehow in my mind, darkness was the key, black, just like the pupils in the middle of the colored part of all my friends eyes, black, dark, where in I could see something as a child that I couldn’t describe, but would now refer to you as the flickering flame or light of the Soul. I have to this day found the eyes of people, especially the pupils, as one of the most fascinating features of human beings through which we can connect with the Soul.

The second experience that permeates my childhood memories is SOUND. Looking up from the opening of the burrow of snow for example, I would concentrate on listening to the wind, or the sounds of the snow made by other people walking on it, or of the cars going by as the tires squished their way through the snow left over on the streets. Sometimes though, there was no apparent sound, it was quiet and I would learn to reference this sound as Silence. I became aware that silence was the backdrop or wall that all sound sprang from, so I would continually practice listening for the silence, because in some way that brought to life all the sounds that stirred, giving me a greater ability to be able to recognize sounds created in my environs and the rich manifold texture of those sounds in relationship to what made the sound.

But all in all, the most important thing about Christmas for me has been, since all those years, that wonderful quiet that would come as a result of the blanket of snow dampening the blaring sounds created by the machinery, people or fury of nature during the winter period of time; even the inside of the house seemed more peaceful, cover in snow, insulating it from the usual clamor of life produced during season with no snow. It was the foundation of what I have come to recognize today as Peace.

So we live in a world of light and dark, without the darkness sometimes we might never recognize the lights shimmering from within the people or Souls around us and without Silence or absence of sound, we would never be able to recognize the source, nature, texture nor meaning of the sound presenting itself to us, in a room filled with noise one can barely make out the words of a person speaking next to you. We live in a world where contrast is necessary in order to discern the nature of a given person, place or thing. Sometimes contrast is required before we can even recognize something within ourselves that we have failed to recognize, whether that understanding of one’s self be a revelation of a trauma or a talent that has resided deep within hidden by the clamor and noise made by your continual insistence for activity around you; we become too distracted to recognize the Sound and Light created by our Being as expressed through our Soul.

It is through the adoption of bad behavior, incomplete thinking processes and unused reasoning that we can sometimes end up in a state of narcosis produced by living inside the safety of one’s imagination that goes unchecked with the proper use of reason. Winter and Christmas is the period within which we can make the extra time to embrace the Darkness and its companion Silence to prepare for the Light that gives birth deep within us every year at this time, in a manger, protected by the thicket of our personality and hidden by the ego deep within the our heart of hearts: Hark the Herald Angels Sing!

Angels are nothing more than the ANGLES of light emanating from the resources that our Spirit shines forth through its herald called the Soul. These angles of light produce sounds when experienced in the area of the brain, referenced by esoteric traditions, that symbolize the manger where the ‘nativity scene’ takes place in a complex response of neurological relationships in areas of the human brain due to the presence of undifferentiated Cosmic Sound, producing Cosmic Light within the presence of that part of our consciousness that is unsullied by our levels of consciousness living in the mundane world; the cooperation produced by these two levels of consciousness bring about effects that include our interplay within this dimension known as the physical world.

The neurological response is an attempt, in those who have prepared themselves through genuine spiritual practices under the ever watchful guidance of a spiritual steward. It is not produced in those who have no recourse to spiritual stewards who have a genuine link and tradition to the Sound of creation, it is rather, FELT and emoted through the limbic portions of the brain, sedating the reptilian portion of the individuals brain with the softness and warmth of the exoteric practices of the Holiday worship, activities and social events. The mass of humanity perceives the Presence of its Unadulterated pure essence of its Spirit, through the shadows cast on the wall of its senses, creating a feeling of loneliness which is entirely due to the overshadowing presence of its own Soul and Spirit. Those unable to interpret or have discourse with this presence directly perceive it as an isolation; indeed is the isolation felt when overshadowed by the overwhelming emptiness that resides in the presence of one’s own Soul and Spirit.

The emptiness can be interpreted by individuals as per the make up of their psyche, but all in all it corresponds to Dark and Silent, those immutable qualities that Soul and Spirit use with us to enable contrast. What is the contrast for you might ask? The process of engaging positive change in order that the Soul and Spirit might have a better reflection of the image of itself within the container of the physical world, so that it may engage the world by taking the work of Genesis in hand that it selected to do: to put it in mundane terms, to leave the world a little better place than it was before it took part in the activities of this world. In other words, it’s nor really ‘all about me’ to coin one of the infantile catch phrases being used to seduce and coerce people into mal forms of behavior that lead one away from true freedom.

Humanity, over the centuries has allowed themselves to be chained to a Scapegoat. This Scapegoat has been proselytized by some damaged members of humanity and given a name called God; these arrogant fools have taken the image and likeness of God and turned it into the grotesquery represented by the figure on Tarot key 15, thus slandering and libeling the image, name and what the truly transcendent God represents. We see this happening all over the globe where pathological leaders, from any walk of life: religion, science, marketing and politics for example, in their creation of preemptive strikes or terrorism under the guise and banner of some foul mouthing the will of God which I doubt they have the slightest or faintest idea of what that is, but it suits their AGENDAS to exercise control through fear and subservience.

The cause of this behavior is never seriously debated in a historical context other than the Bad Theology, Coercive Political policies, Junk Science and the Profiteers that these instruments support. This bestialization of humanity occurs whenever the search and quest for increasing knowledge is replaced instead by the worship of consumerism and its preoccupation with sense-experience versus uncovering what can become known through the powers of cognition. In such a time we find ourselves right now, carried forward by Obtuse Sadducees (Politicians, Religious leaders, Scientists et al) unable to stand up for truths. Instead, they have found comfort in the payola they receive to proselytize and induce mass hysteria and conformity by their adherence to Sophistry.

Christmas takes place during the astrological time period of Capricorn, which is represented by the Tarot Key 15, The Devil; and to this day we find that many have not availed themselves to the wisdom that is presented in the pictorial form, accepting half truths as the basis for their decisions and actions. Look at the cube the monstrous creation made by the man and the woman is standing on, it is a cube, but you can’t see its depths. You only see half a picture, humanity chained to the half pictures it creates within its thought forms that may one day rise up and strike terror into their hearts because they failed to monitor an over active imagination left unchecked by the proper use of reason.

One should make note of the fact that Devil spelled backwards is “Lived”; a perfect word that represents the vast collection of our actions that were performed without the least bit of forethought as to what, if any consequences would come out of those actions, whether short or long term in affect and effect. A perfect picture of humanity chaining themselves to some outward, heinous figure head, either represented by an authoritarian figure head of some institution that gives them some ridiculous explanation to the woes or state of affairs found within a group of people or nations and using that same process to take full advantage of any lack of attention breading ignorance.

Christmas is the opportunity to embrace the freedom that the Sound and Light of creation gives to each of us, which usually hides in some dark corner of our mind and or heart. That which frees us to what the Hebrew translation of the word sin means: missing the mark, close but no cigar. You get the picture. It represents the birth of that Great Light carried and encoded into the Great Rabbi YHSWH (Yeheshua) in his name, which renders itself into the meaning: YAH (the Father) Liberates.

It is this Sound and Light that we in the “Q” tradition of the Qabalah seek to bring and impart in this world so that humanity can open its wings and fly above the cockroaches of leadership now appearing on the earth, who are spreading their bastardization of what they call the Will of God while in their arrogance saying that they are using the Will of God which I doubt they understand, for who with a finite mind can understand the Infinite and Eternal aspects of the Primal Will to Good which is the flowing of the Will of God? Their use of what they Term the Will of God is nothing more than perverted in service to the self centered “It’s all about ME agenda”. Verily I say unto you, Sadducees from any religion, you walking sepulchers who claim to KNOW this WILL, You will be judged in the day of the Lord where the LIBEL and Slander suit will be prosecuted against you. You are the Liars! You are the Satanic principle that is held captive within the reptilian portion of the human brain, You are the vile murders spreading terrorism in your bastardization of the word of GOD. How dare you put words into the mouth the LORD? It is you that shall be held Libelous, Slanderous and blasphemous in the misuse of Sacred writ to the gain and satisfaction of your own personal EGO—you Brood of Vipers.

I don’t care whether you are business people, charlatan exorcists (like the Jackass we have here in Phoenix, Bob Larson), who is one dangerous individual creating consensus reality and profiting from his glossolalia charade. Father Malachi Martin, one of the greatest exorcists of our time never made millions and in my opinion you are thieving scum Mr. Larson. YOU ARE A LIAR and a fraud and you are committing the greatest of all sins, Spiritual Grand Larceny. The Lord of Life will take you down through the illuminated members of humanity who hold conversation with the Living and True God and then hold up your uneducated ignorance to the Living God for all to see; you in my opinion are a sepulcher of DENIAL. Woe be to you Bob Larson, Rabbi Yeheshua (Jesus) warns of offenses such as yours: "But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” Matthew 18:6 (New King James Version)

It is people like You who will be held accountable in the Divine scheme of things for misusing the charismatic power of the Ego HE loaned you, for you and others like you misguide people who need psychological intervention rather than the childish yet dangerous game you are playing with people’s minds and I speak from experience as an exorcist from within my Holy Order—Be Ye Rebuked in the name of the Tetragrammaton: Shem-Hamphorash you ignorant misanthrope. Karma is a bitch, and you are going to find that out, just as the current occupant in the White House is beginning to find out along with his Vice president and crew et al—-Matthew 12:34 “You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks!” The day is coming for you to know that you speak only in terms of your ignorance, stupidity and death.

Where in the hell do we come up with these people, talk about a bestialized three ring circus and it all comes from one source: SOPHISTRY turned into a game of consumerism and play acting by means of glossolalia (speech in unknown or imaginary language, simulating coherent speech, seen in some types of schizophrenia. Source: Dorland’s Illustrated Medical Dictionary), then master marketing of Charisma used toward devious ends and expropriation of profits from people. John Locke (another asshole mistakenly given credit for the creation of the Declaration of Independence by generic historians who don’t know there ass from a hole in the ground) would have loved this whirling dervish consumer playground created by Adam Smith, Jeremy Bentham, John Locke, Hobbes et all.

Your last of days are upon you and people like you. I believe the Lord of Life is about ready kick you right in the ass and show you the exit on this stage of life and right into his court of LIBEL and SLANDER. People illuminated by the Light of God will do it, those who have true conversation with the Living Lord of Life, not the fake imposters in the White House, secular fundamentalist religious groups or the psycho-criminal defiant children bred and born in the Arab Nations misusing the adolescent religion known as Islam.

Let me give you an example of how people in this nation are being taken advantage of by these black magicians: Ms. Satriani will work a full day on Christmas Eve. She happens to be one of the lucky few of emerging people that will not have to report to work on Christmas day. She has been graced with the day off, no pay of course, because it’s a great economy, remember? Ms. Satriani has two children; Angie who is 10, and Ronnie who is 8 years old. I have often wondered how she has gone to college, pursuing her higher degree two, sometimes three nights a week, while managing to spend quality time with her children who seem so endeared to have her one day to themselves on a special morning since they have no grandparents to expect over. All that while trying to figure out how to pay her bills because the Pharisees and Sadducees of this day and age have sought fit to squeeze the living daylights out of the citizens of this country for the honor and glory of the money lenders; lowering the wages to compete with some third world countries pay rates.

Then there are those also who once worked hard within the fabric of our society who now have somehow ended up pushing a grocery cart down the street or sidewalks to just keep moving, and resting when they can, IF they can. I saw such man who went down the same street I live on at least for a few days before he was whisked off to somewhere. I crossed his path one day and stopped to say hello. I watched his response to me with a nervous smile that reeked with pain and isolation.

We had coffee together at Circle K and he went on to tell me about his experience as a gainfully employed individual who made an excellent salary for quite a number of years until one day his services were no longer required. He was an educated person whose language and philosophical understanding showed proof of his knowledge. Not long ago, he had positive hopes of bouncing back quickly, but the money ran as quick as the time. He lost his home, and then his car, and for all the hard work he put into this world, he was rewarded with “You’re overqualified” and no hope at all. His retirement and his pension were essentially extorted (piratized, stolen) by the new company that rendered him unemployed. He was a hard worker from back East and how I wished that I could have been more help to him than I was able to provide or had resources for. We walked across the street and thanked me for one of the few conversations that he was able to have as I watched him turn down the opposite corner of the block. I can’t help but think some of his slammed doors are the result of the Pharisees and Sadducees of this day and time. Seems to me terrorism comes in a few different forms than what seems to be readily described or given consensus.

Too many people are being abused and thrown away in this Nation and it is about high time that the jackasses who are calling for accountability take out the plank of theft and legislated genocide in their own eyes first.

Peace creates a disruption, agitation and revolt in such people who honor only their reptilian (hedonistic) aspects of the animal part of their co nature used here in the physical world. Yet the solution to this enslavement is also contained within the veiled wisdom of the picture if one looks closely enough at it, which brings us right to the point as to what the Spirit of Christmas is; if you look closely at the chains and shackles that both the male and female are wearing you will find that both could easily slip off the shackles and chains that bind them to their propped up thoughts they elected to be bound by; in other words, freedom is just a choice and action in recognizing that they can be free.

Peace, Silence and genuine probing questions find these black magicians poking fun at those who ask them questions that have any cogent or substantive makeup, or as a last resort attempting to tar and feather the person’s integrity who posed the question through threats by misuse of law bent toward the advantage of the black magician, whether that black magician be a business person, politician, scientist, teacher, or whacko nut case creating demons for people to create genocide over, castigating another culture through whatever political-economic, sociological adamancies they can drum up in their rationalized rants: all done so that a few can have an advantage in the world they have created.

There are many enemies to Peace, found only in people who use their non-peaceful sophistry in whatever place, institution, and business or discipline whether that discipline be science, religion, society or law; wherever they are found around the world selling their brand of shackles and chains. It is time that we find these people, and directly confront their irrational philosophy and mantras by embracing that the Sound and Light of creation that resides deep within us all—by kicking them squarely in the ass and telling them to get the hell out of our towns, states and Nation.

Peace? Peace is hard work. Isn’t it obvious to you why there is little of it in the world right now? Just remember those greasing and padding their fat asses with the cash they are stealing from your hard labor, while giving some of it over to other countries to build weapons of mass destruction which were not present before this current fiasco that our Ignorant legislators gave to us over the past Christmas’s.

These guys don’t want to work hard—Peace means they will be out of business.

Aww, wouldn’t that be a shame, no more shams.

In the name of Yeheshua, Yehovasha

Merry Christmas

Rev. David Strickler

Qabalistic Minister

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you know you want to do it:

Spiritual Climate Newsletter DECEMBER 2006 Part 2: AGREEMENT REALITY by Adam Crosthwaite

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Agreement Reality

by Adam Crosthwaite

Perhaps it is the change in perception I have experienced in the past year or so, but I can’t help but notice the wailing and gnashing of teeth this holiday season as people repeat the same old American holiday practice of standing in checkout lanes for hours on end. And yes I said HOLIDAY. That comment was directed at the fundamentalist crybabies that believe any other tradition that does not follow their own religious-political structure is wrong. And if anyone reading this is starting to feel uncomfortable about that statement, GOOD! Pay attention to that pulling, twisting feeling that is starting to drive you to anger. Now you have a reason to wail and gnash your teeth, and not just because you can’t get through the checkout lane quick enough to grab the last Play Station 3 on the shelf! If any one can explain why the importance of material exchange is so high during the holiday season I would gladly look them in the eye and tell them to grow up. Dollars and cents do not equate to love. Further more the narcissistic ranting of the religious zealots in this country, mainly the mainstream Christians and let’s not forget the Evangelicals, need to stop spreading their own philosophy of politically correct peripheral crap!

It was just last year we listened to all the propaganda over the whole Christmas greeting fiasco. Remember the politically correct greeting? “Happy Holidays” I believe was the so called insult that people felt so burdened by. Remember the out pouring of martyr syndrome that accompanied retailers’ efforts to not insult any one? It must have been the underdeveloped or perhaps the combination of maladjusted and underdeveloped personalities that reacted to the politically correct greetings. I can’t recall a Christmas that had been plagued by so much garbage as last year’s. Everyone wanted in on the action. It was as if the Christian community was waging war on every other religion and tradition out side of their own secular belief structure. For a while there I thought it must have been a slow month at the abortion clinics and the fundamentalists had to seek a new target to fill the hours.

In the middle of all this propagated crap no one stopped to question why this was happening. Was it a mere coincidence that this was occurring at the same time that more people had started to voice their distaste towards the war in the Middle East? People were talking about not having their loved ones home because of the ongoing shipments of U.S. solders overseas.

It was the tunnel vision of the communities that enabled this agreement or rather consensus reality to take shape and form in the guise of politically correct jargon. People were so dissatisfied with the mistrust and misuse of power witnessed by the American public in relation to the War in Iraq. The agreement came in the form of people sharing a reality and misshaping that reality due to an emotional eruption from the masses of consumers. People took their frustrations out on a public icon such as Wal-Mart.

Now why Wal-Mart? Wal-Mart, which produces no value-added whatsoever, dominates the geometry that governs the U.S. consumer society. America consumes goods that others produce, which Wal-Mart markets. As I have come to find in a recent assignment for my class in Research Design and Analysis Class Wal-Mart seems to be taking quite a few hits politically as a major player in the current economical cycle of America right now. Take all the political distrust and anger felt by the general public and give it a target such as the icon of the big smiley face. Interestingly enough the same feelings directed at the Big Box retailer was the feelings expressed by people in this country regarding the current administration which has been referred to as a regime many times in public articles and reports. People lacking the ability to honor the truth took it upon themselves to target this American icon of mistrust and adopted the agreement reality that this is the evil empire that needs to be taught a lesson. All this energy spent in the efforts to save face within their own misdirected egoic and adolescent personality, instead of admitting they were wrong to trust a group of individuals (corporate Wal-Mart; government, White House) with what ever level of trust they may have turned over.

Call it a theory if you like I am just calling things as I see them. Take a large population of people that share a fear of the unknown. Throw in a few good reasons for them to mistrust and in many cases feel oppressed, although they may remain ignorant as to the true point of origin for that oppression and mistrust, and they are going to explode in one way or another. Give them a fundamentalist point of view on life in general and you have a potential confrontation on your hands. All you need now is a repressed, genuine target. And there you have the formula for an emotional eruption due to pent-up anger and frustration being directed at the most convenient target available. It almost seems that the behaviors of the mainstream Christian fundamentalists bear an eerie resemblance to a shadow cast from the bomb blasts that are destroying towns through out the Middle Eastern countries.

This image reeks of Orwellianism as it stands as a testimony to the ugly side of the human ego as goes unchecked by discerning minds. Orwell never failed to show in writing how the ego in operation behind the scenes, as it went unchecked by discernment, would reach up and manipulate as it had been trained to by the mind it is mentored by.

Taking into consideration the fact that no one wants to be wrong and that most of the people screaming about the insult to the Christian community, being what they consider ignored, it’s no wonder the argument lasted as long as it did and retailers cringed as the holidays approached this year. The fundamentalist jerks that think they own the patent on the celebration of light birthing into the physical world known as Christians have got to stop and question themselves. As the Christians don’t hold the patent on the holiday season they don’t hold the patent on being jerks about the whole thing either. There is a plethora of fundamentalists screaming from the heights proclaiming martyrdom year round and even more so during the Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanzaa, and Holiday season.

Last year in midst of all the ranting and raving of fundamentalists arguing over who owns the month of December a child very eloquently showed me just how simple life can be. I walked out of the laundry room of my apartment complex and he was playing outside on the lawn. He may or may not have known about the grand political dance of the fundamentalist crybabies that was going on at the time. He just looked at me with an incredible light beaming through his smiling eyes and said, “Happy Kwanzaa!” I couldn’t resist smiling as I responded, “Happy Kwanzaa to you too.” That had to be one of my favorite encounters for the year. Here a little boy, couldn’t be more than nine years old, greeting me at the door and wishing me the best of the love that was gifted to the world and all that lived upon it. I confess myself ignorant at the time as to what Kwanzaa truly meant but that didn’t stop me from hearing the true message that was conveyed in that little boy’s words. All that mattered at that moment was the statement behind the statement which was uttered from the mouth of that glowing little child as he smiled the smile that only a child wishing the best of love to a total stranger could have.

As beautiful a moment as this was I felt a tug from inside me as I realized how precious the moments are when children shatter the barriers of those that build in the name of ignorance. It is the children who will build upon the foundation of this agreement in reality or chose to tear it down to construct a solid and sound foundation. How I long for the world to live in such a moment if only for a few minutes such as the shining of first light as the very best of love kisses the horizon on Christmas morning. It is the ignorance and arrogance of those choosing to play along in the agreement of a false reality that are responsible for the degradation of human life in this world. It is in the non-acceptance of this agreement reality that the change will take place and give room for truth to light the way to a solid foundation for future generations.

All through elementary school and on through high school I remember celebrating all forms of the holiday season. From Mexico to Canada, Japan, Russia, Germany, South America, the African Nations, Native American and Middle Eastern traditions were all honored by the kids I grew up with and the schools saw to it. So why are we seeing the political and religious communities fighting over ownership of a world wide celebration?

In closing this holiday message I would like to wish you the best of the love and light that gave birth to this world and all its inhabitants. In all parts of the world and to all the soldiers across the world, on both sides of the line, no matter where you read this or in any language it may be read in, I wish you the very best of the love that gave birth to you in this world. To all of the children in the world and throughout the traditions that celebrate life and love including those that celebrate each day as if it was the first and last day of the year, may the love shared by all be given and received freely as it was meant to be.

May the blessings of the life power find you in celebration this year…

Blessings,

Adam Crosthwaite

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Spiritual Climate Newsletter DECEMBER 2006 Part 3: THE GIFT of FRIENDSHIP by Wendy Ford

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The Gift of Friendship

by Wendy Ford

Addendum to my Novermber article: Congress DID pass the Budget Reconciliation Act package that included the extension of the Medicare exceptions process for out patient rehabilitation services. To any who acted in response to my November 2006 article “Legislated Genocide?” Thank You.

Christmas comes at the same time every year, yet somehow it is always a surprise as to how fast it is “here” every year. For me, the approach of the Holy Season usually has a distinctive feel or quality to it. The carols on the radio and in the stores, the lights going up on the homes and businesses have always generated warm and fuzzy nostalgic remembrances of past Christmases and times spent with family and friends. This year has somehow been very different with an almost neutral quality to it for me. Usually I have had a sense of the need to give to others whether it was through emotional, physical or monetary gifting, that somehow unless I have given of myself to another that I haven’t really been a part of it. Great joy was always gleaned from coming up with an idea and great excitement generated in the planning and execution of a plan then watching or hearing of the reaction when the plan came together.

Each year there has been some meaningful gesture that is my “ah-hah” or highlight point of the season. Whether it was anonymously paying for a family’s dinner while dining out, leaving a 100 percent tip for a waitperson, watching the faces of loved ones as they opened the gifts chosen or made for them, adopting an angel off the mall tree or spending extra time with one of my elderly and alone patients listening to them share holiday memories, there has always been some observable action or tangible and physical form of giving involved. There was always a moment where my heart was filled to bursting with love and joy that proclaimed to me “that is what the season is all about”. This year I had been waiting for the moment to come but not even an inkling of an idea for anything was manifesting in my field of awareness.

This year my lessons came not in the form of giving, but in learning better how to receive. It has always been easier for me to be on the giving end of the equation, but this year a huge lesson was laid in front of me quite loudly and clearly. Learning to accept help graciously when it is lovingly and unconditionally offered is a key component in the balancing of the equation.

On Thursday, December 14, 2006 an abrupt end came to my wondering about what I was supposed to “do” this year to “do my part” and in what shape or form my giving would be manifest. At about 6:20 that evening I was involved in an auto accident. Thankfully no life threatening injuries but I don’t think the insurance company has a good prognosis for my beloved car. After 911 the first call was to Dr. Strickler who called Adam who called me. “Adam, I’m in need of a knight in shining armor. Can you come help me please?” Without hesitation the reply was “Where are you? I’m on the way.”

It is seemed as if it took only an instant and there came Adam walking toward me out of the darkness into the bright circle of light under the streetlight to where I was seated on a low brick wall with my back to the accident and the crawling rush hour traffic as the firefighters were taking my vital signs and filling out paper work. I have no idea of how long it really took him because the traffic was a mess and the firefighters had had to muscle my door open to help me out of my car. My adrenaline was still pumping at maximum and any female knows the dire effects kindness from a good friend can have in a moment like that. My first words to him were “Hey, Adam. Please don’t be nice to me right now.” Later he told me he had immediately recognized the signs by the rapid reciprocal tapping of my toes on the curb, a dead give away to an EMDR technique used in moments of extreme emotional stress.

Adam made a quick call and said Christine and David were on the way. Not liking to be a bother to others I had a moment’s feeling of guilt at having caused such a fuss and inconvenience to everyone’s evening followed almost instantly by a great feeling of thankfulness for having such good friends who would drop everything in an instant for my need. Yes, that moment also caused a great acceleration in the rate of toe tapping for I was NOT going to cry. If I started I might have caused a Great Flood in the desert.

Shortly thereafter David and Christine appeared and the same admonishment was given to David for Christine already knew that just being there was enough. Later David asked Christine if I was upset or mad at him. After the explanation of how it’s a girl thing I think he better understood the working of a female mind under emotional stress.

After all the paperwork and reports were done at the scene Adam drove me to the Emergency Room where Christine, David and Dianne met us. My last words to Christine before leaving the accident scene were “Please, no one call my husband yet.” He was in San Diego and until we knew more about the extent of my injuries it was meaningless to call him and upset him. Besides, I knew that until he heard MY voice he wouldn’t really believe what anyone said anyways, even Christine.

As I walked into the Emergency Department it occurred to me that Dr. Strickler had not been in that hospital since the night of his stroke in August of 2004. I know that walking through those emergency department sliding doors had to have been so hard for him. Perhaps, in the way of things, my being in that Emergency Department served to bring to further closure some of the emotional trauma suffered by Dr. Strickler, Dianne and Christine on the that awful night. Memories of that horrible night had to have been flashing through each of their conscious and subconscious awareness’s. For the toll that it had to have taken on them to do that in order to be there physically in that waiting area to offer their presence and support to me I want to publicly state my sincere gratitude. Thank you to Dianne for being there. I know you had to have just fought your way through rush hour to get to the refuge of home and were then pulled away. I also know you were pretty tired already and I thank you for your time and presence. You have no idea how much I appreciated that and what it meant to me.

When it was clear that it was going to be one very long wait after being Triaged, it seemed pretty silly for everyone to just hang around, so Christine drove Dr. Strickler and Dianne to their homes and then came back to wait with me for the duration. I also know Dr. Strickler needed to get back to his apartment to go into his Spiritual Mode to take care of “things”. Adam made it quite clear that he wasn’t going anywhere until I was on the way home so it was useless for me to tell him to go. They each had to work the next day and it was the big Christmas pageant at Christine’s school so I already knew she had to get up extra early the next morning. Publicly: thanks to you both. Since Christine is more like a sister than a friend and we’ve known each other for over thirty-one years it was not surprising for her to be there for me. But it would have been very easy for Adam to leave. Instead he was the one that made the Sonic run at 11:30 when it occurred to Christine and me that we hadn’t eaten. Off went my knight charging out into the darkness to procure goodies for his two damsels.

Adam did go home after they discharged me at 1:15 AM after helping to bundle me into Christine’s car. Christine and I proceeded to the 24-hour grocery/pharmacy to fill my prescriptions for muscle-relaxers and a painkiller. After a short discussion I agreed that it would be a good idea for her to go in and get the medications. By this time I was cradling an ice pack between my two wrists having been diagnosed with a possible fractured left thumb that was splinted and a badly sprained right thumb and a seat belt contusion on my chest that even made three doctors grimace and say “Oh my”. By the time Christine helped me into the house and opened all my pill bottles, threw down every pillow from the upstairs and made me promise NOT to try the stairs but to sleep downstairs it was 2 AM.

It took me another hour to try to open a box of crackers to take my pills with, figure out how to fill and drink from a cup using the palm of one hand and figure out which fingers on the other hand didn’t hurt, build a nest of pillows and blankets so I could sit sleeping in a chair with my legs up. Ice packs were supported and held in place with more pillows. What an adventure. Clearly being the caregiver is much easier than being the one in need of care. Somewhere along the line my husband called having spent an extra long day working in surgery in San Diego. We chatted a bit and then he asked, “So how was your day?”

Last night Dr. Strickler held Advanced Class at my home. Being accustomed to being independent it was a real struggle to have to ask for someone to get the mail, put up a new bottle of water, put the pitcher of tea in the fridge (managed to fill it by putting a stool under the water dispenser spigot but then couldn’t move it anywhere), etc. Learning to ask for assistance is actually harder than accepting it when offered.

As each day progresses I am finding new sore spots and new bruises but I know I will be fine. Even if my thumb is broken it can be treated and will heal.

Instead of the season for giving, this has been one of receiving for me. May you have the heart and eyes to recognize and accept an opportunity for growth when offered and presented by the Lord of Life.

Blessings to all at this Holy time of year.

Wendy Ford

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Spiritual Climate Newsletter DECEMBER 2006 Part 4: THE CLOAK of CHRISTMAS, UNEXPECTED by Christine Ford

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The Cloak of Christmas, Unexpected

by Christine Ford

The Christmas lights are twinkling on the homes we pass in the evenings as we take David out for his “ride” each night. Adam and I take turns running the Boss to the store or to pick up prescriptions after we get home from work in the evenings. As he judiciously limits his driving to a couple days a week when he feels that his body is responding accurately enough to sit behind the wheel and direct a car, these evenings trips have become an event for us all. As the sun goes down David is usually feeling quite “house-bound”, and a sure cure for his cabin fever is a drive through the streets of town.

Often times all three of us pile into a vehicle and just drive as he engages us in dialogue and leads us along routes of discovery that just don’t happen in quite the same way while seated in his living room. I used to chuckle (to myself) when he said that the physical act of driving occupies our conscious mind and gets it out of the way so he can speak to that which is REALLY there. Note that I said I USED to chuckle. I have come to find that he is absolutely correct in the validity of this process, as usually proves out in most cases regarding the “method to his madness”, to borrow a phrase. So we, Adam and I, have come to cherish the evening ritual sojourns and vehicular lessons which have become so much a part of our lives.

During the holiday time of year, however, our rides have been beautifully different. We have learned over the years that David takes almost childlike joy in the luminescent, electrical fireworks of the Season. Our journeys become adventurous and take varying routes, looking down side streets and watching for that particular glow of an especially unique display, as we mark it in our minds for part of the journey in nights to follow.

These holiday trips have delighted me as well, as the glistening lights and silent beauty of the holiday season has always evoked a magical, almost surreal, quality that has been consistent with my experience of the Season through all of the years of my life. Whether that moment be in Bedford, Ohio as a child and young adult, in Naples, Florida as a mother and wife, and now in Phoenix, Arizona, as a “maturing” solitary traveler on the Spiritual Path, this deep down inside feeling has been a mixture of joy, tranquility and peace.

This almost magical texture of the Season had carried over into my evening holiday rides with David since arriving in Phoenix up until this year. Instead of inspiring awe and wonder as in the past, I find myself still waiting for that moment of beauty to set in. I am admittedly somewhat perplexed, pondering the seeming flatness and absence of serenity, awe and splendor that I have felt so strongly before, which is notably absent to my perception this year. What I find replacing it is the nagging sense that it cannot possibly be Christmas yet, that I must have nodded out like Rip VanWinkle along about the middle of October and awakened… oopppss!.. There it is!

Though I have gone through the traditional actions in the automaton mode like a robot, such as Christmas programs at school, Christmas shopping, and sending off packages, I have not yet experienced my usual, familiar surge of awe, peace and wonder. Instead this year there is an indescribable emptiness, a void that vacillates between a numbness of emotion on one extreme, and on the other, an overwhelming sensation of loss and sorrow that can bring me to tears in an instant. Now, depending upon the person you talk to, tears may not seem like such an out-of-the-ordinary state for me. These tears are different though and spring from a place I have never consciously touched into before. This is a new and extremely different reaction to my usual blissful state of holiday oooo-ing and aahhing while humming Christmas Carols.

I have given my new, seemingly strange state of being considerable thought and contemplation, and have gone down a few roads of possibilities. The first was just that I might be becoming an old fart and turning into Scrooge! After all, the words, “Bah! Humbug!” have come to mind with greater frequency this year while navigating the throngs of more so than usual rude shoppers so intent upon parting with their money as they volley for the quickest checkout line in the store. I find myself making up renditions of the traditional Christmas Carols “Weird Al Yankovic style” and singing them under my breath as I move along, for example:

“Bells are ringing, children singing, all is merry and bright”

has been changed to

“Registers ringing, children clinging, all is scary and trite”

But, alas, I dismissed the Scrooge theory. After all, Scrooge was that way for a long time, all of his life and it was only towards the end that the visitations were made upon him! This is “sudden onset Bah! Humbug” and I don’t think that Scrooge-dom happens that way, it is more of an ingrained repeated pattern, so I kissed Scrooge good-bye.

My next exploration was that, being a spoiled teacher, I usually have lots of time off before the “big day” arrives. This year with Christmas coming on a Monday, our break is back-loaded and we have school right up until December 22. To add insult to injury, Progress Reports, AIMS-A and Regression Data fall due (otherwise known as massive but necessary documentation and paperwork bullshit) and must be finished before I lock that door the evening of December 22. I’ve come to befriend that professional side of me that works myself up into a frantic whirlwind of productivity when deadlines are almost overwhelming, but I still haven’t gotten her completely harnessed. After putting in ten-hour days as the deadline approaches, while still having to deal with eight Autistic kids for five of those ten hours each day, I considered that perhaps the “poor-me” syndrome was creeping in. Could the martyr and perfectionist who must have each “i” meticulously dotted and every “t” precisely crossed be rearing her ugly head just when I thought she had been laid to rest, or at least securely shackled in a back room somewhere? This contemplation was considerably more tempting than Scrooge, after all I could put the “blame” on circumstances as well as that petulant part of my ego which LOVES to suffer, but the answer was not that easy. I had been under similar time and deadline constraints before, and had not had this type of reaction, so the exploration went on. Let’s see, where to go next?

There were several other brief scenarios that were given consideration, but the most painful I kept in abeyance, denying and looking in all other directions first, before tenderly pulling this one out and taking a gentle look. This year I will not be spending Christmas in Florida with my children. Because of a multitude of scheduling conflicts, my trip for the holidays has been shifted to the New Year week this year. I will be in Phoenix for that dawning of First Light, with Dianne, David, Wendy, Glen, and Adam for the first time, which I am very much looking forward to, but I will not physically be with my cherished children and granddaughter.

The fact is that for me there will be no annual Christmas Eve Party with my kid’s friends from all the way back to elementary school stopping in for an evening of reunion and reminiscing. I will not be there for the unveiling of “THE GAME” the kids traditionally play that evening while laughing and renewing acquaintances that have been silent for a year. I will miss the opening of the traditional goofy Christmas socks, the frantic shuffle of wrapping and placing presents under the tree Christmas Eve. The annual “walk” on Christmas morning when my kids shut their eyes, lines up from shortest to tallest, hands on each other’s shoulders and march in with eyes closed and then open them all at once in (now) mock astonishment at the beauty they behold will take place without me. (Side note: My kids humor me a lot but I think they secretly love these traditions)

The list of traditions we have built up over the years, carrying them with me from my childhood and passing them down to my children, is endless. Right down to the Bailey’s in coffee and Polish Sausage for breakfast Christmas morning and sitting around, laughing and crying in pajamas all day soaking in the presence of love and the “meaning” of the day. This year it will all take place without me. Fact of the matter is, it may or may NOT take place. I am unsure as to what Christmas will bring for my children this year, as I am unsure of what it will bring for me, but there is one thing that I am sure of, and that is that new traditions will be formed and honored in years to come.

In all my pondering and contemplation as to the different quality of the feeling of the Season this year, I must admit that my not going back to Florida to share this time with my children is a factor. It is, however, merely the emotional response of my ego and personality to the memories and patterns of what has always been. While it is contributory, that is not the entire answer to the lack of luster and beauty, the emptiness and void that I am experiencing this year.

As I journey upon the Path of Return, I have found it to be an increasingly inward and solitary movement. Personal experiences, changes within my psyche, and communication with my Soul are taking place that have no meaning to anyone but myself, that I am unable to verbally express or share, and I find I am often silenced by a hand that I cannot see but can only sense. Right now I am attempting to convey one of those knowings to you, the Readers of Spiritual Climate, and I find myself struggling with words, but I will continue and hope that it will have meaning for you.

The beauty and spirit of the First Light of the dawning of Christmas Day is a miracle gifted upon the entire manifest universe by the One. It is given freely, it is limitless, abundant, and infinite, and it resonates WITHIN each and every one of us to whatever capacity we are able to perceive it and make it our own. Christmas is an inward motion of beauty and grace, a sojourn in the darkest season of the year to the brilliance of the interior light that is the Birth Right of each individual. This is in stark opposition to the holiday frenzy we have bastardized it into, even though the celebration rings of home, hearth and family. From a purely Spiritual aspect, the true gift of Christmas is to be experienced internally on a level far removed from the trappings of the commercial landslide that it has become. I find myself this year standing on a narrow ledge between the two polar opposites, and that, my friends, is where I believe my feelings of “Non-Christmas” are coming from.

And so, this year I will be in my Spiritual home with those whom I have been blessed to have share this part of my journey with. There will be new traditions, quiet times and introspection. This does not mean that I do not love my children and the old traditions, it only means that I am growing and moving into yet another deeper aspect of the beauty, awe, and wonder of the renewing of the First Light that birthed us all.

May your Christmas and Holy-Day Season gift you with an awareness of the interior luminosity of your true being, Soul and Spirit that is ever present within the deepest recesses of your heart.

Blessings

Christine Ford

Editor

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