Spiritual Climate Dec. 2019, Editor’s Intro, Christmas

 

People, Places & Things:  Social / Spiritual Commentaries

SPIRITUAL CLIMATE NEWSLETTER

Christmas-New Year’s 2019

December’s Spiritual Climate is the longest night of the year, the greatest absence of physical light on the Earth, the time to look deep inside the darkness of one’s Soul and personality, a time for inward journey and reflection; this all sums up what the Winter Solstice, December 20, 2019,  signifies.  Yet on the other side comes the lengthening of daylight, as the light once again grows in intensity and the Earth is no longer subject to limitation of the Rays of that beautiful, life-sustaining Solar disk that provides us sustenance.  Cycles of Time.   So too is our great country experiencing a Solstice, a time of darkness and deprivation of Truth.  How fitting that the Impeachment of Donald Trump comes at this time of year.  And if the cycles of Nature hold true, following the darkness of Impeachment, our great nation will experience once again the growing of light and Truth.  Unfortunately, there is no guarantee of that cycle of Nature when it comes to politics, so for now we will see what human choices in Time brings.

The spiritual climate in this season of personal reflection can become overwhelming, when the whole world out there appears to be focused on material aspects of the holidays,  creating a paradox of a flurry of activity in the outer, material world, while the inner world is demanding a deeper, more introspective action be taken.  What a Spiritual reflection of our Material struggle within the government; the split in support for Impeachment: the Democrats stating the depths of truth with facts and proof, dignified searching with deep results, expressing their truth in loyalty to the Constitution, while the Republicans cower and bow before a disgusting representation of a disfigured Santa (Satan) Claus, fearing ending up on his naughty list if they act in a manner true to their Oath of Office.  The parallel is astounding.  To use that all to worn out phrase, it is time to move on.  It is time for decisions to be made, action to be taken, and truth to be known.  How this will be resolved hangs in the balance, just as our Democracy hangs in balance.  Sadly, there are no guarantees.

It is with pride, reflection and hope for right to prevail for the United States of America that the contributors of The Spiritual Climate Newsletter welcome you once again to our articles of social commentary.  We are inspired and ready to move forward, but not ready to forget the lessons of the past.   In this Edition, Wendy Ford, Glen Ford and Christine Ford share their memories of Adam Crosthwaite, as a tribute following up Dr. Strickler’s eloquent memorial.

We invite you as well, to travel along with Dr. Strickler as he explores, Christmas, Really? Just Another Christmas, Is It?

Time… It is Time for you to sit back, relax, put your feet up and grab a mug or cup of whatever it is that gives you comfort and travel the memories and commentaries of our contributors once again.  We here at The Institute of Spiritual Climate wish you and yours the brightest of holiday seasons and the most fulfilling of New Years for 2020.  We look forward to sharing our thoughts with you in upcoming Editions of The Institute of Spiritual Newsletter.

Christine J. Ford, Editor, Spiritual Climate Newsletter

Copyright © 2019 by Institute of Spiritual Climate LLC, All Rights Reserved.

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Christmas, Really? Just Another Christmas, Is It?

Christmas already, really?  Just another Christmas, is it?  Is it already Christmas?  It has been a few years come and gone since the last full edition of the Spiritual Climate Newsletter was published in the Christmas edition of December 2016.  I had thought of writing an article of a synopsis, an effort to boil down a handful of events and experiences coming from both the mass mind and perhaps a few from myself that some could relate to, analogous in similarity and/or contrast occurring in other’s daily lives.  Where that thought went, I am not sure, although my best guess is it disappeared somewhere in the black hole of my brain injury.  At least I can type, that is, whenever the nonessential tremor hasn’t reared its blathering head in my left hand.

Maybe what I am attempting to convey is I just couldn’t settle on an approach for ‘just another Christmas article’ with this return edition of the Spiritual Climate Newsletter after an unexpected 3 years hiatus.  I am saying to myself, ‘untimely return, unexpected hiatus’ David?  Yeah, here I go talking to myself again.  But talking to oneself out loud, can be of healthy use, it can work, primarily if a person hasn’t heard their own thought process spoken aloud, much like a person listening to the sound of their voice on a recording and being slightly startled, inevitably saying, ‘Is that what I sound like?’

Speaking your mentation aloud to yourself in the privacy of oneself affords a realization of how one’s thoughts do not sound, nor make sense, in any way like what you think they mean as you listen to them in your head.  Actually, it is a good exercise, for a person might discover what other people actually hear what we say versus how we think we sound like, in the unchallenged arena and peanut gallery of our own heads.  Sometimes it is a good checkpoint to get a fair ‘hearing’ of what other people may be hearing unbeknownst to ourselves BEFORE one might expose their ass out in front of the gods and everyone else without the privacy of clothing.

What I have found myself wanting to talk about is death.  Death, for the most part of the symbolism of Christmas, doesn’t seem to belong to the season unless one is dealing with the spirit of what is yet to come, in Charles Dickens’s loud novella painting the life of a bitter man named Ebenezer Scrooge, in A Christmas Carol.”  Scrooge begins to find it easy to cast aside the bitterness and scorn he held toward life as the result of deep hurt.  It is a fair commentary; the nature of human psychology is unable to let go of feelings or beliefs, that one necromanced to place distance between the dour response to some of our past when events, effortlessly unfolding ruling out certainty, when in fact situations are not responding in going our way, the way we wanted it to go.

Death plays importance in every Christmas season.  If death is nothing more than a transient moment removing the shadow of what we this IS, a shadow diminishing by the growing light of new and longer days, as the solstice directly expresses, even if the expression of Christmas portends the death of people, places, and things in the experience of our human environment.  Yes, even if someone dies in our personal world.

It struck me as rather odd my father passed this month, December 9th, to be accurate.  Especially after I had finished coming to terms with the shocking surprise of Adam Crosthwaite’s death.  So, endings have come to find a place in my world, as I am sure it does in other people’s world in different places around the globe only varied by the months, weeks, and days instead of December.

This December of 2019 brought an ending in my personal world; my dad was released from his pain and bondage in his physical form, his shell.  It came as an unexpected event and occurrence in my life, as well as in the presence of my brother and sister’s life.  Being who I am, believing what I believe, and knowing what I know and knowing the difference between what belief is and knowing, at times, feel my dad’s presence at times.  For example, as I wrote this article, he was looking over my shoulder as I typed on my keyboard at my desk,  while I was occasionally glancing at the picture of him and my mother taken in 1959 in Killeen, Texas while he was stationed at U.S. military station Fort Hood.  I talk ‘with him,’ expressing to him the sense of relief I have of his release from this world, his pain, and his difficulties.  I know he is coming into the knowledge of answers as to the many people, places, and things he pursued and experienced in this lifetime.  Hopefully, albeit from a bit of a selfish point of view on my part, his coming to understand a part of my life that was naturally veiled to him in our relationship and catch glimpses of what I do day in and day out.

Maybe he finally received a Christmas present he was sincerely looking for: truths and the freedoms some truths can, every so often bestow into a personal understanding of love, life, and the freedom to experience those, which our Nation affords us.  I realize I left the word pain out of the last sentence.  I had an understanding of dad’s suffering because of the continual pain I undergo post-stroke from neurological damage.  I could have an understanding of his pain as we shared many points of laughter about our physical situations.  To digress, I also left out the word pain because it is a given if a person is living in this world.  This world has plenty of pain maintained by the power craven control freaks in any and at any given period in human history.  It never seems to end.

I learned many things from my dad, many unbeknownst to him, and some he knew were stimulated by him.  My dad was a convert to Catholicism, from which I learned the discipline and work to sustain faith by the discovery of knowledge and actions of agape.  I read and reread his catechism material that was used in his conversion to Catholicism, even though he and mom afforded me an education and discipline of a Catholic School.  He enjoyed the freedom of religious choice, a faith that didn’t seek to impose or force its beliefs and rules, on others, only as an offering of choice, not by the control of ‘Caesar’s laws.’

My dad loved this country and expressed to me his fear of it being turned into a dictatorship with the help of the Russians and their Communist ideologies, with the aid of money, seeking to turn us against our government.  These were warnings we (i.e., myself and such as dear friend Greg D.) learned in Catholic school, as well as the difference between the evils of communism and some of the grace which can be bestowed by proper use of some necessary socialism to shore up the general welfare needs of our citizens, as well as making sure the elite didn’t use the power of socialism to their sole benefit.

Needless to say, he didn’t like, (quote) “The Deceiver in the White House and his continual lies.”  He expressed to me he couldn’t understand why some people can’t see how our nation is in danger as well as our Constitution and freedoms.  Liars angered him to no end and said they were in league with the Devil’s agenda.  Dad honored facts and truthfulness, not the use of unchecked imagination being used today.  He always sought the source of information; who, what, when, where, and why.  He served to protect our nation and Constitution in peacetime.

In many respects, as I thought through his death, I really do not find it odd he took leave of his earthen life 15 days before Christmas.  In fact, in writing this, I just recalled how he could surprise me on Christmas, and the look on his face when he pulled one over on me at Christmas along with the joy shining from his face as he watched me come into some type of realization of something hidden from me, whether it was a Christmas present or the discovery of a hidden truth.  One major surprise at Christmas was the acoustic guitar he and mom got for me.

I am sure my brother and sister are gaining their own insights relative to their experiences with dad.  I still believe, and at times know, unexpected occurrences can happen for a veiled reason.  There can be moments when it’s clear as to what the underlying reasons are and, at other times, not as discernible or noticeable.  It was difficult for me not to be able to be present for his funeral.  I know dad realized my health wouldn’t permit me to go back East for his funeral unless I wanted to follow him.  Maybe that is part of a gift I receive this Christmas, because, for at least once, I know he knows for certainty, without any doubt, he now has a more thorough comprehension of the physical challenges I am facing day today.  Hell, to my somewhat surprise, even my brother realized that I may not have been able to get back for dad’s funeral.

Dad was taking leave of his physical body before the onset of the Winter Solstice, and it leaves for me a view about the death of winter and the increasing length of daylight and the formation of light, and this not just by happenstance.  It is almost an omen of a more considerable change that dad’s passing aligns near the date the birth of the Great Rabbi is celebrated, note I say celebrated.

The Great Rabbi’s birth was an omen (or a prophesy if one prefers) of an unasked-for change about to manifest throughout a threshold where humanity’s inability to foreshadow outcomes of its marriage to the convenience in being ‘at effect.’  Remaining ‘at effect’ is a predictable redundancy in the Capitalist marketplace of the flesh, a cyclicity of gravitational inertia upholding a ceaseless cycle of death and rebirth of souls within the Terra Firma of Earth, which is nothing more than the universe we live and move and have our physical experience within.  What sometimes remains unseen is how the Great Rabbi’s birth permanently shatters the hope and dreams of many human control freaks, it puts them on notice.  For that matter, it also puts the materialistic certainty freaks on notice who identify themselves entirely as only a fleshy animal they awake ‘within’ each morning.

Can you imagine the sick, dangerous, exaggerated forms of behavior that could result from the type of shock smacking the living daylights out of the synthetic certainty needed by control freaks to laud whatever power-hungry control they would seek over lives that refused to pay attention to their bait and the hand up their butt moving their lips?  Of course, you can just look around, look at the continuation of the economic sociopath sickness of neoliberal Margaret Thatcher,  who sought to impose on the world her motto, “TINA” (there is No Alternative,) the massive load of crap that it is.  There are always alternatives that exist that could promote the betterment and welfare of humanity instead of the insidious cancer of Protestant exceptionalism currently wielded by the power control freaks in the world.

These power control freaks are found in many layers of humanity, even showing up as an oligarchy of Rome, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees during the time of the Great Rabbi, continually spreading their lies, corruption, and bestiality in their cults of personality always trying to force people to conform not out of choice but by their rule of power and the elaborate forms of entertainment their organizations used to obtain more power for their leaders’ use to force, impose, and coerce compliance to the rules of a god they created in the image and likeness of their Egos.  And it had to be done as a drama of bombastic, religious entertainment, to influence the masses they must sacrifice their needs for the good of a warmongering god or nation.  Never mind facts or even scientific measurements that exposed the power control freaks avarice and lusting greed for money they are willing to whore (shill is too polite) for, to deny a ‘certainty of no pain’ for those refusing compliance to the promotion of fear.

Currently, the mass mind’s need for certainty calls forth anyone from the marketplace of the flesh to entertain with lies, corruption, and destruction of order and truthfulness, to draw attention away from any of the echoes of the Great Rabbi upholding a decency of truths, ethics, and morals enabling people to cast aside the chains of enslavement, required by power control freaks who cheat to win to maintain power to abuse people.  They rationalize their ends justify their means.  This simply means the power control freaks will help you feel good about you losing.  But you lose.

Yes, the birth of the Great Rabbi unconsciously threatened the ongoing redundancy of forced enslavement, needed by those craven power control freaks insisting they are suffering the wounds from the slings and arrows of their fake victimhood, even if you begin to realize you are choking on their lies.  You must be forced to swallow the indecent blaspheme as they portray their contrived ‘righteous holiness’ at any cost rationalizing they were unjustly thrown out of heaven since they refused to support God’s creation of Man; to bow, serve and love God’s creation named Man.  They refused even though Man was created by The Most Highest.

The jealousy of some angels was borne of conservatism, an unwillingness for their Heaven to change, to keep things as it were before Man was created into existence.  This is the rigid conservatism that caused some angels to be cast out of Heaven by Archangel Michael.  And they fell to earth tumbling down Mount Hermon, where they simmered in their conflated, and overwhelming stink of their self-righteousness, while detesting the liberal Love of God.  It continues to be the source of stench and decay in this world that earnestly seeks to become a Theocracy; to joyously overthrow the Representative Republic of the United States of America in the name of their dictatorial, warmongering god.

The anger of the cast out angels created a veil of darkness separating them from the Voice of God, they were not able to distinguish the legion of their own thoughts from the Voice of God and hence have continued to serve the stink of their egoic self-righteousness as their new god.  They vowed to put an end to mankind’s freedom by coercing humanity with the power of their conservatism to recreate things as it once was, and thus separate Man as they were separated from the joyous freedom, and liberal power of love flowing from God Most High in Heaven, El Elyon, who is Lord over the Light and Lord over the Darkness.

Mankind’s liberation from this legion of ‘holy white collar from above’ descent of corruption, lies and moral degradation of the conservative angels along with their twisted voices of egotism, was put on notice Christmas day; in which the celebration of the birth of a cosmic event, the Great Rabbi, forms the light of freedom, liberation, and a setting of correction into a primeval deviation that has plagued humanity, and the redundancy of the material universes since the unfoldment of space and time.

In the cunning like a snake sections of humanity, the ethically and morally degenerate personalities such as ring leaders named Vladimir Putin, Semion Mogilevich, his yes man known as Donald Trump, China’s Xi Jinping, the evil of Kim Jong-un, the Russian Money that has purchased the power craven Moscow Mitch McConnell and his court jester of lies Lindsey Graham, and we need not forget religious leader spiritual jack-offs such as Paula White or Franklin Graham and many of their similar ilk too numerous to cite here, all feed on one thing in common—hurt people, maintained ignorance such promoting a degenerate interpretation and making a mockery of the Book of Revelation with an unnecessary nightmare of fear derived by eisegesis and bastardization of this sacred writ; to maintain self-elevation of prominence in the market place of profit and consumption.  It’s where the power control freaks create the darkness of their brand of cancer, seeking to eat away the knowledge of truth, freedom, and liberty contained in the pure Soul of Man.

The creation of their darkness in an attempt to off-balance the formation and fulgence of an Eternal Light, represented by this day of celebration in respect of the Great Rabbi’s birth.  They will continue to fight for their market share of control so they may create the world into their own image and likeness of enforced slavery and slave labor, born out of their Fear of being rendered irrelevant.

Let the dead of this world, bury this world and themselves in it, let them have it and keep it.

Let those who are reborn in the waters of Light that Yah liberates, take care of the tasks they set out as souls, and release from the confines of this damaged dimension instead of yearning the escapism of a Rapture or end of the world and leaving garbage for the next generation to pick up.

Because “…of that day and hour knoweth no one, not even the angels of heaven, neither the Son, but the Father only.”  Matthew 23:36

Let those with ears hear.  Remember, the Apostle Simon, nicknamed “Peter,” the “Rock.”  Simon (in Hebrew, Simeon) means “hearing.”  (Matthew 16:18).  (Etym. Greek bar ionas, from Aramaic bar yonah, son of Jonah; Hebrew yonah, dove.)  Then what we have is the name, Simon Peter derived from Simeon Bar-Yonah, in other words, HEARING THE DOVE.

Leave the confines of the created darkness of fallen angels who refuse to accept an ongoing act of love, ceaselessly changing the face of what is known, in the emerging Genesis of Creation, stirred by the presence of a Most Transcendent High God, who created in an act of Love and Volition, an image and likeness of Himself reflecting into the formation of light, to the rejection of the created darkness,

             And He called it Man.

And for the Love of Christ, MAN BETTER WAKE THE HELL UP.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year for All.  — Rev. David Strickler

Copyright © 2019 by Institute of Spiritual Climate LLC, All Rights Reserved.


 

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Gone Too Soon: Adam Crosthwaite

Adam Crosthwaite was gone too soon:  on July 17, 2017 the Spiritual Climate family lost its youngest member.  Adam quickly succumbed to multi system organ failure brought on by sepsis from bacterial pneumonia.  Although he had been placed in a medically induced coma his vital signs indicated he absolutely knew when each of us spoke to him in that cold, stark white, sterile cubicle in ICU encouraging him to fight.

Sadly, recovery was not in the plan.  He transitioned quietly very shortly after we each had an opportunity to speak with him.  While we miss him deeply, we do know that he is continuing on the next phase of his journey and studies unencumbered by this physical plane, free of the narcosis of the physical senses and free from the demands of the false ego and limitations imposed by his physical birth sign (personality).  He has disembarked from the seemingly never ending cruise of this spiritual hospital ship called Earth.

Even though Adam is gone, we have each received little signs that he is still around, though on the “other side.”  He occasionally drops in with a gentle reminder of his presence; a song, a phrase of a movie or TV show, a flicker of lights, a passing shadow in the periphery, someone in the grocery who is a red headed bearded giant.

It seemed to be too soon for Adam’s physical death.  It was truly a shock to all of us and has taken longer than expected to come to some semblance of acceptance and regain footing.  It is still difficult to believe he is gone.  His laugh still echoes in the ether and I still expect to see him sitting in his chair at our table on class night.  Holiday meals are still made with way too much volume of food as we would always send most of the leftovers home with him.

Each of us had our own unique relationship with Adam and we each have been working through his loss in our own ways.  Adjusting to the absence since his transition has been difficult.

Adam had such a big, generous heart and genuinely cared for and loved his spiritual family.  He would drop everything if help was needed no matter the time or weather.  He could envelope you in a gentle bear hug that would shut the world out and let you know everything was going to be okay.

Adam was a fellow student and seeker.  Being the youngest member of our circle by thirty years he brought many different perspectives and taught us much about how a younger generation thinks and reflects.  He also spoke of how the educational system has changed over the years and what the younger folks’ value and care about and why.  Yet because of his life experiences the gentle giant was wise beyond his years.

Adam could be goofy as all get out, never missing an opportunity to play a joke yet he was quick to laugh at himself.  The knack of being able to laugh at oneself appears gone in our society today.  His story telling ability was legend in our circle; he could keep us entertained with his tales and stories, most based on true experiences and have us laughing until the tears ran and our sides ached.

Adam was one of the most genuinely honest people I have ever met.  He had an uncanny knack of being able to size up a situation and call “bullshit” faster than most.  It was fascinating to watch his growth as a Student of Dr Strickler as Adam made adjustments and changes.  He was open about sharing his struggles.  His successes and failures were freely shared in the safety of our circle where there was love, trust, understanding and acceptance along with the brutal honesty required when one is genuinely seeking to grow into one’s true humanhood.  Adam spoke of the growth that provided him relief and change he could see and feel through the help of Dr. Strickler’s teachings and support.  From what I could see during his time in our group, his change was profoundly remarkable, and then Adam was gone!

I learned much from him; many of his struggles were similar to mine and I could see parts of me clearly reflected in him.  Being able to see those parts reflected helped me to identify some major areas and issues that were impeding my progress and growth.  Even though Adam was gone too soon, memories of those reflections are still use as signposts as I move along the path and continue to learn and grow.  Adam probably had no idea how much help this was and still is to me and just how much he meant to me.  I deeply regret never having told him that.

You are still missed, my friend.  Wendy Ford.

Copyright © 2019 by Institute of Spiritual Climate LLC, All Rights Reserved.

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Time Of Your Life, Adam Crosthwaite

Time…Paradoxically, our best friend and our worst enemy!  What control we venture to imagine we have over Time can be shattered in an instant, by a quirk of fate that comes unexpectedly, without a hint of warning, and shifts the direction of our endeavors and volition.  The contributors to The Institute of Spiritual Climate Newsletter were rocked to the core by the sudden, unexpected passing of our youngest contributor; Adam Crosthwaite made his transition from this life July 17, 2017.  The time of the two plus year sabbatical and absence of The Spiritual Climate Newsletter has been a direct response to the shock and grief each one of us felt in our own way in a very personal reaction to his death. With Dr. Strickler having broken that silence with his touching, stunning, memorial to Adam in the re-opening of “The Spiritual Climate Newsletter,” I choose to add some words in tribute to Adam, and in reflection of time.

Time…They say it heals all wounds.  Though wounds may heal, the scars remain, but with the scars are memories that stay as well.  Adam appeared on the scene as a young man hired as a paraprofessional for my class of Autistic children at a private day school here in Phoenix.  Adam’s recommendation came from a church nearby and I was warned to watch my language and behave around him! Oh boy!  Was I in for a surprise, as was Adam.  As we spent the first two weeks together dancing around trying to be prim and proper, it didn’t take long for the real personalities to surface.  It soon became glaringly obvious that Adam was a unique Soul, with a giant heart, and with understanding and compassion far beyond his years.  He was a natural at empathizing with our special kids and had a keen, one of a kind sense of humor that could somehow turn the direst of situations into a side-splitting comedy!  As we let our real sides show to each other, Adam become my friend, protector, son and shortly, fellow student.  Once he met the Boss, Dr. David Strickler, he knew he had found a home, a family, and a Path to follow for the remainder of his all too short stay on this Earth.  The Time was right.

Time…They say it flies when you are having fun.  The time Adam was here with us did fly, so in our own way, we were absolutely having fun!  Adam was just that kind of person; the wiggle of his ears, the insightful yet silly comments, the fresh writer who showed us all up in his  ability  to write sincere, poignant articles with zingers at the end, the friend who cared so deeply for us all.  When the “oldies” of the group bought a home together in Surprise AZ, we collectively decided Adam needed a life of his own; he deserved more of life than melting into being a caretaker for the geezers in the group home!  (That is said in Adam’s joking style, but it is true…)  Adam’s monthly visits to the Temple and holiday drop ins were anticipated for the sheer joy and insight he brought with him each time.  He was, and remains, a part of us.  He is missed more than words can express, but he is still here with us.   His name comes up in chats and classes, he surfaces in our dreams, sometimes his presence can be felt.  But there is no doubt, the time I was given to spend with him definitely flew by and I know I was having fun.

Time…So many references to Time.  Time waits for no one; Lost Time is never found again (Benjamin Franklin); Time is the wisest counselor of all (Pericles); Time brings all things to pass (Aeschylus.)  I could go on and on and relate each quote or saying I find to my regrets about the Time I have wasted, mismanaged, and whittled away during my 71 years on this Earth.  Given the power I have become well aware that I have to shame myself, I could quickly work myself into a quagmire of paralyzing fear and doubt regarding finishing that which my Soul was sent here to accomplish.  I have come to know that part of myself, but the anger and regret I still feel about Adam being taken so unexpectedly and quickly is admittedly an issue I have not yet resolved within myself.  He had such passion, and yet was deeply sad.  He could make us all laugh, and yet I know he was crying inside.  He was one of the least complicated, yet most complex people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  He was gentle, yet tough; he was caring, yet practical; he could make you laugh and cry within the expanse of one short story, and he gave the best hugs ever.  When Adam wrapped those big arms around me, I felt safe, protected and secure.  Like Time, Adam was a paradox!  And although it feels to me as if his Time here in this Plane was cut short, I hold precious the memories and lessons he taught me.  Time…Our best friend and worse enemy, depending upon how you employ it!

Until we meet again, Adam!

Christine J. Ford, Editor, Spiritual Climate Newsletter

Copyright © 2019 by Institute of Spiritual Climate LLC, All Rights Reserved.

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Remembering Adam Crosthwaite

In remembering Adam Crosthwaite, I am reminded spiritual growth is in part a process of self-knowledge. There is solitary exploration required but no one can go it totally alone. The danger is getting caught in a closed loop of stagnation. Assistance is needed from those who have gone before. Dialog is required with a teacher, mentor or spiritual leader to provide guidance and challenge. Fellow travelers along the path are also helpful. They can point out pitfalls they have encountered and lend a hand when there is a miss step.

One such traveler for me was Adam Crosthwaite. Over the 15 or so years I knew him, Adam lived life large.  Those who knew him will likely take exception to that statement in the usual sense of it.  Living like a very wealthy and successful person spending money in an extravagant or self-indulgent manner.  This is not what I am meaning.  Adam was not a wealthy man financially.  He had accumulated substantial debt, mainly from predatory student loans.  The memory of Adam just gave me a nudge, I suppose I should acknowledge the obvious pun.  Adam was a massive human being.  This too Adam, is not the sense in which I believe you lived life large.

In remembering Adam, his wealth was sourced from the vault of his soul, his heart.  His vault was filled with joy and pain but most of all love.

Life is a collection of experiences.  Lessons learned and missed, preserved in memory, conscious and subconscious.  As stewards of these memories it is the responsibility of each to use those experiences to make sense of the world, grow spiritually and then weave that growth into all realms of daily life.  A further charge to share those treasures like exhibits in a museum for others to apprehend, appreciate and learn from.  The sharer may never be aware of how far reaching and consequential the sharing might be, who finds meaning or inspiration in the experiences shared.

I am remembering Adam was a good steward of his experiences. After a youth that was troubled, he studied Criminal Justice Administration and Psychology.  He worked as a classroom aid at Children’s Center for Neurodevelopmental Studies a school for special needs children. Where he gave freely of his experience and love to help special needs children with sensory integration to help them cope with a world many of them found overwhelming.

In remembering Adam, he also worked at Arizona’s Children Association that provides support to troubled children and their families through difficult and trying circumstances. Where he gave abundantly of his experiences. Adam drew on the memories of his own childhood and adult life to fuel his love and caring to help provide support for children in broken families.

I knew him as a fellow student of Rev./Dr. Strickler in the study of Qabalah. After classes we would have a chance to talk outside by his car. We would talk about what was presented in class or about things that happened at our jobs and life in general. We could talk things out together as peers in a safe environment, say things out loud that had been rattling around in our heads. I frequently was surprised as how different things sounded by putting them outside my skull and having a dialog about them. He had a wonderful sense humor and the amazing (to me) ability to turn it within. When he would stumble on the path or in some manner miss the mark he could laugh at his folly, make adjustments with humility and carry on. That was a talent I am remembering Adam had, a talent that I admired in Adam; one that I struggle with and aspire to still.

Periodically we would all get together for a round table discussion, “Table Talk”. We talk about our lives spiritual, magical and physical with Dr./Rev. Strickler. We talk about how the three intermingle. We share the experience of how we are perceiving the world and discuss how we might do it better.

His experiences and encompassing love comprised his real wealth.  He spent them extravagantly, shared them lavishly. He spent them in a self-indulgent manner, not in the physical sense, rather a spiritual sense that I call soul-indulgent. He shared with others to help them along the way while advancing his own spiritual growth in the sharing. This is the sense in which Adam lived large.

It is over two years since his passing.  In remembering Adam, I get a sense of his spirit near me on occasion.

I miss my friend, Adam. — Glen Ford

Copyright © 2019 by Institute of Spiritual Climate LLC, All Rights Reserved.

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