This blog is more than an account of Near Death Experiences. It ponders in detail the tough questions of life. Who are you, and why are you here in this physical world? What happens when you die, and is there a judgment? However, most anything could appear here. This is not a news blog, archived posts are just as relevant as new posts. Check the boxes at the top of the page for the Contents, Contact, Forum and other links.
It’s been sixty years since I was in grade school. K-9, is how it was divided. Kindergarten through the sixth was considered elementary school, and seventh through the ninth was junior high school. Our school was build in a square, with the playground in the center. It covered a whole city block, and taught about 900 kids while I was there. On the corners and in the middle were gates to enter and leave the school. This was during WWII, so there were guards on the gates making sure only children and teachers were entering the school. If parents wanted to come into the school they had to go to the main gate and be identified before they could enter.
Our classes were large by today’s standards, 40-45 in each class. We also had auditorium classes for large groups on subjects of health interests. Don’t smoke, don’t drink, type of schooling. Occasionally we had auditoruim classes just for fun, I can remember Professor Backwards who could write a word backwords as quickly as he could forward. Then after school we could attend serials if we wanted. Flash Gorden, Perils of Pauline, and Zorro.
We did play football and baseball between the classes, but there were no after school practice sessions. We just played for fun. I can remember hardly any homework, we couldn’t take the books out of the class. Sometimes we were asked to write a page on some subject. We could go home and play with our friends until supper. No television, so we read magazines, newspapers, or books, we even talked about family things and played games like monopoly.
We had a wide choice of classes beyond English, Math, Literature, History, Geography, and Physical Education, these were mandatory. Boys could take Electricity, Woodworking, or Metalworking, while the girls could take Cooking, Sewing, or Home Economics. Classes for everyone were Band, Music, Art, Typing, Social Studies, and Science.
We had time to use the playground during lunch and recess. There were several organizations that were promoted by the school, YMCA, YWCA, if you joined the “Y” you could go swimming at their facilities downtown. Don’t know much about the YWCA. Boy and Girl Scouts were discussed also. The Boy Scouts were learning to shoot rifles, 22’s, The troop I belong to went to the finals in target shooting, but didn’t win. The war, remember.
The school also had a guard organization you could join after the eighth grade. They would watch the bathrooms and halls, also guard the gates. I joined early and finally made Captain of the Guard, which gave me the priviledge of starting the flag salute each morning by blowing a whistle. Each morning we started school with a prayer, and a salute to the flag of the United States of America.
We prayed in class sometimes and always in the auditorium. Those were times of uncertainty, fear of atomic bombs, and fear of losing friends and family in the War, which many did.
Schools helped in the war effort. We collected newspapers, metal of all kinds, we put them into bins at the school. Every evening I would spend time gathering newspaper from the neighbors to put into the bins at school. All too often, I would collect money for flowers to help those who lost family in the war. Gold stars adorned a lot of windows. We all dreaded seeing the Military car in the neighborhood bringing bad news to someone.
While I am not a religious person, I have no regrets of praying in school. It was a great comfort to all. I believe my generation did their job and turned out well.
In my talking to young people today I don’t see the range of understanding that my generation shared. They know a great deal about science, but not much else. It may be my age talking, but then, maybe not.
What is the Way, and why does everyone seem to know the Way? How many Ways are there, one or millions? I read this quote many years ago, and decided to share it.
The Way
If you meet a man that doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know that he doesn’t know, ignore him.
If you meet a man that doesn’t know, and he knows, that he doesn’t know, teach him.
If you meet a man that knows, and he doesn’t know that he knows, enlighten him.
If you meet a man that knows, and he knows that he knows, follow him.
Everyone holds the way within, it comes with the body as an essential part of life. Nourish it, expand it’s reach, honor and respect it’s meaning. The way is Love.
It is my habit, on the week-ends, to go to the local mall and look through the book stores. I am an avid reader of non-fiction books.
On one of these trips to the book store I was looking for a CD of Monk Chanting, I had heard about it on a TV ad.
As I entered the door I was approached by a young salesgirl, she wanted to help me find what I was looking for, and led me right to the CD. Then she asked, “are you a religious person.” I replied that I wasn’t religious, but spiritual. With tears in her eyes she asked me to pray for her, saying her life was a mess.
This encounter was the beginning of several months of brief discussions about her marital problems, and how she could solve them.
Whenever I visited the book store she would meet and talk with me. She felt her husband was cheating on her. About one day a week he was staying out late at night, not saying where he had been, nor what he had been doing. He would say, “I was out with friends, and you should just trust me.” Then a heated argument would ensue, with the accusations leading to verbal abuse and alienation. She could see her marriage slowly slipping away from her. She wanted to find a way to stop the arguments.
Not having a lot of time, I explained to her that since it took two to argue, she could stop the fights by not confronting her husband. She didn’t like that way of stopping the arguments at all. She said, “I am not the cause, he is, he is the one doing wrong, he needs to stop doing what he is doing.”
So for the next several months in quick talks I explained to her that she was not responsible for the actions of her husband. But she was responsible for her own actions. Refusing to argue and taking time to understand and consider the situation was the best approach. I explained we can’t control other people, but we can control our response to other people. It is our attitude that matters, it is the most important part of life.
Finally one week-end she said she decided to try out what I had said about not arguing with her husband and waiting for an understanding of his actions. After that, a couple of weeks went by without her being in the book store, so I thought she had changed jobs.
It was another week before I saw her again working in the store. She came up to me with a big smile. I could tell she was a changed person. She said, “last week I was thinking about what you said about my responsibility, and I could “see” it for the first time, how I truly am responsible for my actions and my life. At first it was very scary to me, like I was alone, by myself, but then the feeling changed to confidence and trust.” She had stopped arguing with her husband, and he had become more concerned about her. She had also applied for a better job and got it. One that paid more money.
Then she said, “I don’t feel like a victim any more, I still don’t know if he is cheating on me or not, but now with a better job and thinking more clearly I can better decide what to do with my life.”
We said our goodbyes, she didn’t need me any more. She had taken a giant step into spiritual maturity, and I was very happy for her.
All things big and small in this world pass. They are born, grow strong, get old, falter and die.
Great civilizations follow this pattern, what happened to the Mesopotamia civilization, where are the Etruscans, the Aztecs, the Mayans, the great Roman empire, the Celts, or the pyramid builders of ancient Egypt. They are all gone. We read about them in the history books, as future children will read about us and our civilizations.
Mankind builds countries, and the borders change faster than cartographers can keep up with them. Wars destroy countries and swallow them up into other countries. Wars destroy whole civilizations.
We build organizations, government, religious, social, and benevolent to watch them wither away and die. Cities, towns, metropolises, and within them corporations, companies, factories, stores, and recreations that dwindle and eventually pass, or change into something unrecognizable.
Even continents break apart, drift, and become ocean bottom. Atlantis, Mu, Eden, and Base earth are gone. What was once lush green forests, become deserts, and deserts become meadows of grass and lakes. Mountains are brought down into valleys, and canyons rise up to become hills.
There is nothing permanent in this world, all is temporary. A great stage upon which we act out our physical lives, a classroom of learning who we are, our purpose and meaning. We learn to love here, to respect and love others, to become greater than when we entered.
While we are in the world, we are not of the world. We are not temporary. Being eternal we will live beyond this world and many more. Learning is our pursuit, and love our destination.
