Be like a cat

Back in the aughts, when I lived in Chicago, I studied Qigong with Dr. Paul Hannah.  In Chinese, Qi means “air” or “breath” but in a metaphysical sense it is “vital energy.”  Gong means cultivation.   Qigong is the cultivation of that vital energy, as a non-martial art.  

Dr. Hannah had grown up in the inner city projects in Chicago, and learned Tai Chi – the Chinese martial art – in order to defend himself, and thus avoid joining a gang; his ability to defeat the gang members in combat was his protection and way out of the projects.  He became a board-certified psychiatrist, as well as a Tai Chi Master, with additional studies in acupuncture, Qigong and energy healing.  https://www.hannahsholistichealing.com/

During my sessions he would have me stand in a half-crouched position, arms outstretched at shoulder-height in a circle, my finger tips almost touching, for an unbearably long time.  He would leave the room, and later return with hot herbal tea.  I believe he was training me to empty my mind and become aware of something else.  

On the wall of the studio was a poster of a black panther, gazing forward, directly into the camera.  He explained the concept of observing without becoming engaged, of being present with neither future nor past, neither time nor space. Dr. Hannah told me that poster had gotten him through college.  

I did not then know the idea of mindfulness, but would now understand his instructions as my introduction.  Thich Nhat Hanh has written, “When I eat an orange, I can eat the orange as an act of meditation.  Holding the orange in the palm of my hand, I look at it mindfully.  I take a long time to look at the orange with mindfulness.  Breathing in, there is an orange in my hand.  Breathing out, I smile at the orange.”

During that same period, I practiced Qigong with a practitioner of Chinese medicine, including acupuncture.  During one session at his office, he introduced me to a colleague from China, who was considered a Master of Qigong.  I was told this man had not eaten solid food for many years; he drank liquids, but metastasized the inner chi for his sustenance.  Such a concept is beyond both my comprehension and experience, however, I was and remain willing to suspend disbelief.  Perhaps such is possible, and I should not cut myself off from such a possibility.  We have entered the realm of the suprarational.  

Here in South Portland, Ryan Nitz is an acupuncturist with a community clinic.  He treats many patients onsite at his clinic and, quite interestingly, has begun treating patients via remote.  I do not mean by a tele-health zoom session, but rather, from his office in South Portland, Maine he treats patients in, say, Kansas or California.  He does not use needles, but instead the “subtle energies” to manifest healing in the patient.  https://www.mainecenterforacupuncture.com/

Essentially this is a form of Reiki, the Japanese form of energy healing; “rei” means universal and “ki” means life energy.  Clearly now, we are beyond the bounds of western allopathic medicine.  As Dr. Paul Hannah taught me,  “be like a cat,” suspend disbelief and calm the mind while focusing on the energy present.  

At the vanguard of energy, one meets some mighty cool cats!


The Alpha and the irrational

If one subscribes to the Great Man Theory, then history is defined by the deeds of great men; highly unique individuals whose attributes – intellect, courage, leadership or divine inspiration – have a decisive historical effect.  Thomas Carlyle developed the theory, and wrote:

“Universal History, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the History of the Great Men who have worked here. They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modelers, patterns, and in a wide sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrived to do or to attain; all things that we see standing accomplished in the world are properly the outer material result, the practical realization and embodiment, of Thoughts that dwelt in the Great Men sent into the world: the soul of the whole world’s history, it may justly be considered, were the history of these.”

Pythagorus of Samos, the ancient Ionian Greek philosopher and polymath, certainly ranks among these alpha males.  He has been credited with mathematical and scientific discoveries, including the Pythagorean theorem, Pythagorean tuning, the five regular solids, the Theory of Proportions, the sphericity of the Earth and the identity of the morning and evening stars as the planet Venus.  His ideas are ubiquitous: Plato’s dialogues exhibit his teachings, every high school student memorizes his theorem, and every carpenter or engineer uses the 3-4-5 triangle to square a room. 

He saw beyond the material realm, and further developed ideas of mysticism.  His “metempsychosis” – which means the “transmigration of souls” – holds that every soul is immortal and, upon death, enters a new body.  He also devised the doctrine of musica universalis– literally universal music, also called music of the spheres or harmony of the spheres – which holds that the planets move according to mathematical equations and thus resonate to produce an inaudible symphony of music. The 16th century astronomer Johannes Kepler further developed this idea, although he felt the music was not audible but could be heard by the soul.  

Aristotle characterized the musica universalis as follows:

“…since on our earth the motion of bodies far inferior in size and in speed of movement [produce a noise]. Also, when the sun and the moon, they say, and all the stars, so great in number and in size, are moving with so rapid a motion, how should they not produce a sound immensely great? Starting from this argument and from the observation that their speeds, as measured by their distances, are in the same ratios as musical concordances, they assert that the sound given forth by the circular movement of the stars is a harmony.”

Clearly, Pythagorus was a big thinker, and his ideas influenced Isaac Newton, another of the alpha males.  Newton – who established classical mechanics, invented calculus, formulated the laws of motion and universal gravitation – was a paragon of the rational scientific mind.  Newton was a Great Man, by definition.  He also was a leading alchemist.  

In its purest form, alchemy is concerned not with turning base metals into gold, but as a symbolic language guiding the transmutation of the physical self into the ascendent consciousness of the anointed.  Of an estimated ten million words of writing in Newton’s papers, approximately one million – 10% – deal with alchemy.  This was more than a passing interest.  

John Maynard Keynes, the Cambridge economist who restructured the post-WW2 global financial system – easily ranking him among the Great Men – had this to say about Newton:

“Newton was not the first of the age of reason. He was the last of the magicians, the last of the Babylonians and Sumerians, the last great mind which looked out on the visible and intellectual world with the same eyes as those who began to build our intellectual inheritance rather less than 10,000 years ago. Isaac Newton, a posthumous child born with no father on Christmas Day, 1642, was the last wonderchild to whom the Magi could do sincere and appropriate homage.”

Let us pause and consider: just as Pythagorus explained the physical realm he also saw celestial harmony beyond the physical; Newton mastered not only scientific thought but was a leading alchemist of his day.  Two of the paragons of the rational alpha mind had secret lives as mystics.  

The Western intellectual tradition is based entirely on the rational, and anything beyond the rational is defined by the negative form – “irrational” – which is decidedly pejorative.  As wrote Carl Jung, ““Everything that the modern mind cannot define it regards as insane.”  Pythagorus was denigrated as a cult leader.  During Newton’s life, the English Crown considered alchemy to be a heresy, punishable by death.  The burning of his alchemical writings perhaps was not an accident.

What if we expand our concepts and consider connections not defined by measurable facts?  What if we begin to use the term “supra-rational”?  No less than Albert Einstein – the modern paragon of rational thought – was compelled in this regard.  In 1930 he published an essay “Religion and Science” which described the sense of awe and mystery which he termed a “cosmic religion” of “superpersonal content.”   Einstein counseled to move beyond the anthropomorphic concept of god to “the sublimity and marvelous order which reveal themselves in nature … to experience the universe as a single significant whole.”

For Einstein, “science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”  He said “God is a mystery. But a comprehensible mystery. I have nothing but awe when I observe the laws of nature. There are not laws without a lawgiver, but how does this lawgiver look? Certainly not like a man magnified.  …some centuries ago I would have been burned or hanged. Nonetheless, I would have been in good company.” 

The “Great Man Theory” was advanced in the 19th century Victorian era.  In the 21st century we need to move forward, and expand the scope, even beyond gender, to all life, beyond the “either/or” and toward the “both/and” mindset.    

I should like to propose that the “Great Man” be replaced by the “Great Soul,” and that we look beyond the rational, the material, the physical, and embrace the whole cloth, the harmony and music of “our higher angels,” the music of the spheres, “to experience the universe as a single significant whole.”

In fact, this “Great Soul” is in use; in the Hindu language, “Mahatma” from the Sanskrit word “mahātman,” literally means “great-souled.”  Mahatma Ghandi is but one exemplar of this path.  

The seeds of a new future surround us.  We can be hopeful.  


My pronoun is “We”

During my student days, reading Greek and Latin literature, the heavy hitters – grammatically speaking – were the nouns and verbs; adjectives and adverbs lived the fancy life, drove fast cars, added sparkle and pizazz to any sentence.  Pronouns were back bench utility players.  

In recent years pronouns have gained a place of prominence, which intrigues me.  I first heard about the increasing awareness of pronouns when a friend, serving on the Board of the Friends School of Portland, described this new phenomenon.  My children’s teachers now list their pronouns in emails.  I am increasingly aware of this social trend.  

In my work as a carpenter no one ever asks my pronoun; this topic is never discussed on the job site.  And so I should like to announce here, that my pronoun is “We.”  I have chosen the first person plural with specific intent, to message my commitment to collaborate, co-create, communicate and cooperate in building community.

I observe people use the third person: he, she, it, they, them.  First and second person pronouns do not denote gender, while third person specifically denotes and identifies gender.  While I affirm and embrace gender equality, fluidity, and transgender my deeper concerns lie with the increasing fragmentation and divide within our culture.  Third person pronouns denote “other” which underscores separation.

The concept of “other” has been a central question of philosophy for centuries, for millenia.  Within the European tradition everyone from Hegel to Husserl from Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir has opined upon “other.”  In the main, “other” has been used to define “self” but I argue this falls within an “us versus them” mindset.  What will it take for us to come together?

We do well to look further back to Plotinus, the Greek founder of Neoplatonism.  He taught there is a supreme, totally transcendent “One,” containing no division, multiplicity, or distinction; the “One” was identified with the concept of “Good” and the principle of “Beauty.”  Among his quotes is:  “When we look outside of that on which we depend we ignore our unity; looking outward we see many faces; look inward and all is one head. If a man could but be turned about, he would see at once God and himself and the All.”  First person plural, indeed.  

Among the ironies of history is that a slave-holding patrician wrote that sterling sentence which begins “We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union….”  How bold to set down those words, such pioneering thought, while Europeans were focused upon “other.”  But slavery, treating some people not only as other but as property, bought and sold, would come to define the central challenge of the United States.  

And so it was on 4 March in 1861 that an axe wielding brawny frontiersman, elected the 16th President of the young United States, stood upon the Capital steps, charged with the responsibility of holding together the Union. Abraham Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address outlined his thinking, a constitutional lawyer, on the civil discord simmering among the states.  He closed out his speech with an appeal to unity, using the first person plural:  “We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”

If pronouns are to continue to gain in prominence, when the collective id has been let loose, when dark anger rages like a sharp knife in a street fight, in these times now going forward may we the people pursue the blessing of unity, accepting diversity in collaboration and a renewed commitment to community.  

May “We” become the vogue, in these times, and going forward.


Light & color: making marks

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The Burden of Restoration

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We bought our home in “as-is” condition, a cash only sale because no bank would finance the property.  To our great fortune we found an angel to provide that cash, with an agreement that within two years I would pay them back with interest.

One year – almost to the day of moving in – we are completing a bank loan to honor that agreement, but in trading an angel for some bankers, I could not have fathomed the process, nor the word-smithing required, to meet bank standards.

At the earliest stage of the renovation we tore down the barn; too far gone for preservation, an easy choice, but we did keep a 200 square foot area that connected the barn to the Ell.  Nothing sentimental, it was a matter of necessity to have storage for the things and stuff of family life.

Our shed is quite old – tree trunks, with bark still on, function as studs – and it is not pretty: roofline sags, the only remaining shutter hangs forlorn from its last hinge, asbestos siding is missing in places.  At some stage I will take down the shed, and in its place erect a mudroom, second bathroom, and a bedroom for Becca and me.  And storage space.  But that is a project for some other season.

During the first year our focus has been the main house interior: to reduce the energy draw; to redo the plumbing, electric, kitchen, bathroom, and floors; to develop the garden beds for a permacultural homestead.

The timing of the refinance was an open question.  Last spring, when rates were incredibly low, I risked a meager appraised value because work remained unfinished.  The house was comfortably livable, but looked 90% done.

By early autumn, rates had increased, but my “punch list” was finished.  I felt optimistic.  Never could I have imagined the obstacle that would arise.

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Twenty years ago I set out to work in “humanitarian finance.”  My goal was to organize a trust fund to generate cash, free and clear, for media-based community development projects.  Back in the Clinton era, end of the last century, the economy was roaring and people excitedly thought the internet would be a boon for democracy rather than commerce.  The future seemed bright.

While reading in a Law Library I came across the “Philanthropy Protection Act of 1995”, Public Law 104-61, which allows not-for-profits to manage investments outside the constraints of the Investment Company Act of 1940, which, just happens to be the primary source of regulations for the mutual fund industry.

I found a loophole.  Public Law 104-61 is not widely known.  When I contacted McDermott Will & Emery, a law firm which has the largest tax practice in the United States, they declined to provide advice because no one on their staff had any knowledge of the law and they “didn’t want to learn at my expense.”

Naïve and strong willed, I forged ahead into the deep waters of off-shore finance.

Within a few years we held in trust assets of various and unusual form: safe keeping certificates for 100 metric tons of gold bullion held in the underground vaults at Kloten, Switzerland; a rough-cut emerald weighing 1,000 grams; title to thousands of acres in Ecuador.

The more rare the asset, the harder it seemed to manage.  How do you establish a bankable value for a one-of-a-kind emerald?  And after Sept 11, the likelihood of insuring such an asset became virtually impossible.

The Trust Fund also held, in Swiss bank accounts, liquid assets.  Cash, the ubiquitous United States Dollar, caused the greatest difficulty when one of the bankers helped himself to the trust funds.  Humanitarian finance was an oxymoron.

That banker went to prison in Lichtenstein.  The Trustees, myself included, became Defendants in a lawsuit in a Federal Court.  Ultimately the lawsuit was settled, but I was forced into bankruptcy.  I have kept my distance since from the world of the glassy-eyed banker.

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Coming into the refinancing my past was layered, but this is the means forward to secure this home and property for my family.  The process of restoration has been life affirming, and once I was ready for the appraisal, I began to see it as the last step in absolving the deep-rooted shame and pain from that debacle.

My credit scored well.  We locked in a good interest rate.  Only the appraisal remained.  We needed a value of $200,000.

The appraisal came in at $200,000 but subject to tearing down the shed.  Given that, the underwriter refused the appraisal, because that verbiage would not be acceptable to the secondary market.  We were dead in the water.

I told the bank that we would not tear down the shed just to complete the refi.  We do intend at some point to tear down the shed – I look forward to building the new addition – but I am not going to rush into that.

The bank asked about repairing the shed.  I made clear that would not be done before our interest rate lock expires, so that was a moot point.  The third option was to restate the value of the home excluding the shed.

Our home and the shed passed the City’s building inspection with no issues.  The home and shed are insured.  It seemed incredulous, but if one bank insisted the shed was an obstacle, why would any other bank see it differently?

The Loan Officer was highly motivated to make the loan and went to the Bank President.  The President, in turn, went back to the appraiser to appeal for a change of language.  The appraiser, to our great surprise, consented.  He changed his report.

Eighteen words made the difference: “the shed is not a safety hazard or concern.  Settling is normal for a building of that age.”  No repair needed, no tear down, no reduction in value.  Our home is now financeable.

It will be a meaningful personal victory when we close the refinance on 4 December, but our work of restoration has a long way yet to go.  The physical property may be the least of it.

The script of every life includes victories and struggles, and as a parent, my goal is to raise children not in the shadow of my circumstance but in resolution’s opening: healthy, intact, curious young souls able to explore, question, move forward without the baggage of their predecessors, the patterns of generations.

This burden of restoration reaches deep, and its ultimate measure will not be the financial, bankable asset, nor even the condition, of physical property, but the WHOLE self, the emotional, psycho-spiritual, playful aspects, that we nurture.

I had never seen it this way before, but through working to restore one piece of the earth, and to create a home and haven for my family, I have learned a new way to think for the second, let alone the seventh, generation.

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Getting ready to roost

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Chickens are coming!  We have a winter before they arrive, but today, on a warm mid-autumn holiday, we got to work putting up a stockade fence.

IMG_4304IMG_4308Mel, a great gardener from the big house helped, and our neighbor Steve came over to see what was going on.

Our backlot is overgrown with roots aplenty, and not far underground lies ledge.  By day’s end, the post hole digger was dented and bent.  But six sections of fence went up.  Privacy for the hens, and for us too.

The City of South Portland will allow six hens – no Roosters – per household.  Muscovy Ducks would be welcome; they love to eat flies, maggots, mosquitos, mosquito larva, slugs, bugs of all sorts, black widow spiders, the brown fiddleback spider and any thing else that creeps and crawls.  They are a boon to any garden.

IMG_4309 If two households pair up, would that allow twelve birds in total – a mixture of chickens and ducks?  Steve had chickens decades ago, and welcomes the idea.  Maybe we have the chickens and he keeps the ducks, and they waddle back and forth, foraging here and there as they go.  Something fun to ponder as the winter winds begin to blow.  
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Autumn at Home

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Newest sculpture, home grown

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One of the issues in our untended yard is the saplings that took root too close to the house.  On the back of our Ell, we had a Box Elder tree growing very close, and we feared its roots could impact the foundation.  IMG_2786Last December we cut down that tree.

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The stump remained, and as we prepared to do site work for a new patio, we decided to try to remove it with the excavator.  IMG_4517That root just refused to come out, and the tap root – big as a Christmas Ham – had grown through the foundation into the crawl space beneath the Ell.

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We were just about to give up when the root snapped and broke free.  The Ell remains standing.  Here is a photo of Jim Hamlin, excavator and big game hunter!

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We decided that the root deserved a permanent place on our Art Farm.  To make it safe, we dug a small hole and set the stump and root upright.  It stands more than eight feet tall.  Pretty amazing!

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Independence…

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…for us: self sustaining, small footprint, resilience, listening to the land, freedom of choice and teaching our children about consequences, being connected to community, sharing our surplus, growing forward.


Resourceful

Something about Maine, perhaps.  Tales of derring do, and a “git ‘er done” attitude.

A friend, of Finnish descent, once told of his grandparents, fishermen, who decided to relocate the family from Bangor to Criehaven Island.  By row boat.  Down the mighty Penobscot River they rowed, by hand, their worldly possessions stowed into that boat, out into the Gulf of Maine some 15 miles.

That pluck abounds today.  I am glad to say.

Down at the big house, we are staining the exterior.  Glen, the primary painter, lost his driver’s license the other day.  I don’t mean he misplaced it, but that his license was impounded.  (A long story that, in which Officer Nappi, the local constable on patrol, let him off easy – i.e. did not throw him in jail – after hearing that he was working for us at the big house.  Glen was free to go, but he could no longer drive.)

I happened to be driving along and saw Glen, there, stranded.  And not too troubled by it all.  I returned, riding a fat tired beach bicycle, which I tossed into the back of his pick-up and drove him on to work.  The job must go on, and he put in almost a full day’s work.

But, no longer was he able to drive to work.  And we have lots of work to be done.

Now, as it turns out, Glen lives across the Saco Bay, and so, he wondered, why not commute to work on his Jet Ski?  An easy 8-minute dash (it takes about 40 minutes by auto).  I thought  it a smashing idea, and now he ties up at the yacht club, and walks straight into the big house yard and climbs up his ladder.

“Like working in paradise,” he says.

The only problem is his ladder remains on his truck, across the bay.  But I am sure we can resolve that little issue.