(This chapter will find a way into the book. Editors will wipe out most of my personal story, but the universal themes will be maintained and further developed)
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I have lived two complete lives. I experienced anamnesis, though much of the first life is still available to me, through family history, and through my own very good memory. My second life, though characterized by significantly different energies than the first, is still powerfully influenced by our culture’s resistance to practices that enhance intelligence, and reduce the historical impacts of patriarchal dominance. A culture that continues to oppress the divine feminine, be it our daughters, our sisters, our wives, our grandmothers, our planet Earth, or, the silent, repressed part of our self, continues to live out of balance with itself, and remains dominated by male power and control issues.
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Let’s fly united in our potential for healing!
Some aspects of our lives just seem to continue to elude our ability to communicate around them, and add to our cultural conspiracy of silence. Life was never an easy journey for me, and had it not been for some deep need to understand my dysfunctional process, and try to find the underlying truth amid my personal chaos, I would have passed away long ago. Some wounds are so deep, and primal, that just pasting new names onto aspects of the disease are not enough. Names are only a convenience for communication, and are never comprehensive and inclusive enough to completely reveal the true natures of what they were created for in our minds to represent in the first place. Naming is the way that our consciousness weighs and measures new forms of life, ideas and experiences, in the attempt to insert the unknown and the mysterious into a present context for understanding. Naming tends to attach a dynamic process to a fixed point in time and space, and thus lodges it in the past.
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But, the act of creating stories and context, and just being conversational about the details of life does not dislodge the detritus from our field of consciousness. The Devil is in the details, figuratively speaking, and if our need is for change, we need to find a way to see under the vast matrix of details that only float on the surface on the mind . We who still choose to name processes and create stories must also have personally explored and experienced the movements through consciousness, and found the way to the silence at the foundation of our being. Otherwise, the process of naming, and the resulting stories that arise from naming, are just more intellectual knowledge and entertainment for a superficial mind, and will not pry open the healing doors to insight and wisdom.
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We must uncouple from the fragmentation of our wounded, time based minds, and instead anchor our sense of self to the healing silence, the sacred silence, at the center of our being..
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The intellectual and the atheist, though possessing finely tuned minds, can never explore the mystery, and the depth, of the human soul, and comprehend that we all have a connection with Infinity. The willing explorer of the new paths of consciousness or the mystic both have access to the limitless territory of the Spirit, and will soar to new heights and see the sights rarely seen by the rest of mankind…
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But first, a message from my sponsors. I will recount, to the best of my ability, two narratives around my father, and my mother.
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I have always loved my mother, Corinne Beatrice Henry Paullin. I have always taken for granted my mother. She was like the air I breathed, I rarely saw her for who she was, yet I would not have survived without her. She was one of the finest, most loving and reliable persons in my life. I never doubted her love or caring for me, or for our family. She loved her younger brother, Wayne, as much or more than any other sister. She was treasured by her own grandparents, who were relatively prosperous, as well as by her parents, who were lower in income. Mom’s grandpa was the first really old guy that I had ever met. I remember visiting him and his “new” wife (a nurse who married him and took all of his money) in Salem, and Mom requesting that I go over and kiss the old man, who was seated upon some sort of chair with a potty built into it. It is a kiss that I will never forget, the kiss of foreboding death. His funeral was to be the first that I attended, as well.
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Mom, as a teenager, is the “prisoner” in the center of photo
She worked at many jobs over the course of her working career. She started at the original Fred Meyer store in downtown Portland. She worked at National Insurance, General Tool, Grandma’s Cookies, The Oak Lodge Fire Department, and Murphy Logging, and a couple of other companies that I do not remember.
My mother at Oak Lodge Fire Department station
Mom working at the original Fred Meyer store in downtown Portland, around 1946
She usually defined for me what God’s love must look like, the unconditional love that a mother has for her newborn child, which was the love mom had for me. Mom offered nourishment of all varieties when I was young, feeding me, telling me stories, healing my childhood wounds by kissing them and applying bandages to them, holding me after horrible nightmares, and protecting me from over exuberant punishment when it was meted out. She always had her wisdom and knowledge of life, which she freely shared with me my entire life. I did not always follow her advice, at my own peril, because she was usually right about most things that were important enough for her to talk to me about. Mom was always mom to me, from birth until the day she died. I honor her for that and I respected and loved her presence in my life.
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I took her for granted for all of my childhood, and into adulthood until the age of 31 for me. She always wanted the best for me, she tried to be a motivator, she tried to help me right my ship whenever it listed too severely and I will forever be grateful to her. We did not talk much over the years, even though we spent so much time together, especially from the year 1995 on, when Sharon and I moved into my parent’s neighborhood. Beginning with Mom and Dad’s fiftieth wedding anniversary in 2000, and extending through 2009, Sharon, Pam, Aunt Susie, and I shared in most of the vacations that were taken, due to the need to be more present for our aging parents..
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Suffice it to say, my mother was severely overshadowed by my father’s exuberance and outrageous nature, though she did not seem to mind most of the time. My lack of elucidation on my mother’s story shows aspects of my own poor communication style, and aspects of Toxic Masculinity that directed me to not pay more conscious attention to her as a human being, and create better stories about her and her life.
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I was never really very clear about mothers’ religious persuasions, as she did not speak too much on those matters. She wanted me to take her to New Hope Christian Church fairly late in her life, but I was so done with that perspective that I never volunteered to take her there. She did watch and listen with interest as i wandered through the years on my own search for life’s meaning and significance. I think that she was almost entertained and amused by some of my relationships with the various teachings, teachers, ministers, and spiritual advisors. It was apparent that she was most impressed by my relationship with the 12 steps of alcoholics anonymous, however, as that is where she saw I gained the most understanding and stability in life..
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Going through all of the photographs of my mother has caused me to think also about many aspects of my own life: what a great gift that life is, what a great debt of gratitude I owe my mother, and father, for what is the greatest opportunity in our known universe, which is to live on this planet. I am so fortunate to have been born into a family with a mother who always tried her hardest to do the best job she could do, whether it be raising children, working in any of her numerous jobs, enjoying friendships, or just living life to its fullest.
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By hearing some of the talk of friends who have called since mom’s death, I have heard some wonderful, funny, and fascinating things about my mother that I never got to experience personally. She was, at times, an enigma to me, but I could always count on her to be there for me, no matter what was going on in my life. I tried to return the favor later in life, but I could never repay her for all the good she brought me.
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I just enjoyed sitting with her, talking or quiet, and sharing time. My mother always seemed to need to be on the move, however, so those shared periods were short in time, though frequent in later years. Every time we sat down, and the conversation started to turn “serious”, especially about death, dying, or emotionally laden issues, she would just pop up from the chair, and state:
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“Macy’s is having a great sale today. I gotta go now!”
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And, with a smile, off she would go.
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I still feel inadequate, and not up to the task, of fully representing the beauty and the humanity of the person I called mom, and that the rest of the world called Corinne. I do know that she loved life, and her friends and family, and always sought the best for all that she knew. She loved the outdoors, and that was reflected by many years of camping and travel trailering. She loved hiking, and logged thousands of miles hiking and Volkswalking through the years, through many states and countries. She loved to dance when younger, and enjoyed many years of square dancing, and many friendships that ensued from that activity. She also loved her golfing, and had many friendships that she enjoyed from that activity.
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Mom’s Volkswalking badges from her walks around the United States and the world
She loved her children, though, and that is what I remember the most, and will for the rest of my life miss the most, about mom. I made the mistake of assuming that Mom was always going to be with me, and I delayed some important conversations with her, and missed opportunities to truly get to know her better. It is the curse of being a child that we never get to know our parents as well as we could. My parents”friends had a much greater opportunity for that privilege. Mom certainly had many great friendships over the years, and some of the longest would be perhaps, with Eloise Mills. She loved so many of her friendships that were developed through square dancing. The loss to death of a long-time friend Betty Rolf late in Mother’s life was particularly hard, and I know that the parade of death of so many of her friends was harsh for her, prior to her own passing.
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My grandmother, Beatrice Henry, was the greatest woman I had ever known, next to my own mother, even after I reached adulthood.
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I would now like to speak about my maternal grandparents, who were my second set of parents. My first memory is of being at my grandparents’ home, and probably dates around the summer of 1957. And, it was my Uncle Wayne talking to me that I remembered. I was still in a diaper at the time (my mother said that I wore diapers until I was at least 2 years old). Of course, I was not speaking then (yes, I was an extremely late developer), but I still remember having some vague thoughts, and I understood the verbal question given to me in this memory, though no words seemed to form in my mind, just “picture impressions” . I actually remember my uncle asking me if I had messed up in my diaper, while I walked/staggered up a path to the porch of my grandparents’ home..
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I spent many a weekend at my grandparents’ home over the years (and when I turned 15 I lived there for 3 straight months painting their home, and hanging out with local teenage girls). My parents were very liberal in allowing me to spend as much time with my grandparents as they could tolerate. The biggest issue in the early years was that my sister and I fought quite a bit, so Grandma would try to keep the peace where possible, and sometimes limit our time at their house accordingly, or just allow one of us at a time to stay.
Grandma was a fine seamstress, and she would make us pajamas every Christmas. When my cousin Brian finally came of age 3 (he was 5 years younger than I), Grandma would make Brian and I pajamas of the same material. I loved my cousin Brian, and found myself being rather protective of him, especially when playing outside with my grandmothers’ neighbors’ kids. Brian seemed a little slow, and too gentle of spirit, and I somehow perceived that he might need my extra protection while engaging with the neighbor kids. Even in adulthood, where he experiences life threatening alcoholism, I feel as though he could use a little extra help, but he has had no interest in my style of sobriety. He nearly died of the complications of the delirium tremors while undergoing a colonoscopy in February of 2018, and quit drinking alcohol for a brief period, only to resume drinking at the same rate as before his near death experience.
Grandma had a record player in her living room. It was the old style console type player, and she would occasionally play some of her music while we were there. I think that her favorite musician was Johnny Ray, the world famous singer of the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, who was Grandma’s beloved nephew and her sister Hazel’s number one son. Grandma had a picture of Johnny in her living room, and I don’t think that there was anybody in the world that Grandma admired more. And, Johnny is directly responsible for my life, as he saved my mother from drowning when mom was eleven years old.
My Grandparents’ world famous nephew, Johnny Ray. He saved my mother’s life from drowning when she was 11 years old.
Around 1980, just prior to Johnny’s death, we all went to a club in northwest Portland, called Darcelles, where Johnny performed (yes, Johnny was gay). I do not remember too much about Johnny, or his performance, but his show was well attended, and I had to try to look through a ceiling support column in order to see him. Grandma did not see Johnny much, because he had chosen to live in England after he became famous in the 1950’s. But, Johnny made a point of visiting with Grandma whenever he came to town, and we have some nice photographs of his family visits.
Grandpa and Grandma Henry-center
My grandmother belonged to the Order Of the Eastern Star, Daughters Of the American Revolution, and was an active church goer, as well. I remember when she was elected the Grand Matron, and of course Grandpa became the Grand Patron, and attending “installment” ceremonies and other events that she was required to attend. She was so respected and loved (and my Grandpa, as well) that I was quite impressed, having never seen such love exchanged between non family members before. She never proselytized, nor did my grandpa.
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My grandparents, and my mother and uncle, lived in Salem until around 1940, when they then moved up to Portland. They were both descendants of the great pioneer movements of the 1800’s, with Grandma being a direct descendant of George Gay. Gay participated in the Champoeg Meetings that created a provisional government in what would become the U.S. state of Oregon. George was one of the first settlers in the Willamette Valley near Salem. He arrived in the Willamette Valley in1830, after a shipwreck on the northern California coast in 1829, and surviving a challenging journey north from the wreck. His name is on the obelisk monument at Champoeg Park. Much of our family’s ancestral possessions are on display in museums on the premises of Champoeg Park, as well.
Champoeg Obelisk With George Gay Inscription
Grandma showed to me that she had some serious identity issues. She was ashamed of her Native American heritage, and recoiled whenever somebody hinted that she might have some ancestry there (she did, of course, as she was the granddaughter of George Gay and an Indian bride). A side story to this is that in 1995, Sharon and I brought Grandma to our house to die, after she was discharged from the hospital for lymphoma. While in an altered state, she found herself surrounded by Indians doing a ceremony around her. She was quite upset about it, even though it showed to us a probable internal healing action by her true self.
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May 24, 1987
Beginning on May 24th, and extending through July 21st, 1987, I had a series of three spiritual “events” which, to this day, guide and direct the consciousness presently unfolding within me. On May 24, 1987. I had a deeply personal, spiritual event.. To not share it would be an act of hiding on my part.. Sometimes, the Conspiracy of Silence manifests itself by keeping quiet about the activities of miracles and healing, and my unwillingness to share my voice and my experience with others.
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I had resumed attendance at Hinson Baptist Church, upon my reentry into sobriety in March of 1987. In my earnestness to follow the right path through this religion, I accepted a baptism, scheduled for May 28, 1987. On the weekend prior to my baptism, I received my first ever conscious “visitation of the spirit”. It manifested in my experience, for lack of a better description, as having the feeling of being held in the loving arms of an infinite motherly presence, and I felt like I was being reborn as a person as a result. When I described my experience to the Minister, he requested that I attend a training to get my “beliefs” more in alignment with the structure that the American Baptist church accepts. Really? The minister misunderstood my experience, as it represented a direct connection with the God of my spiritual understanding, and not his.
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During this period of time, I also needed to get tested for AIDS, since I had relations with women who had sex with bi-sexual men as well as intravenous drug activity, during my darker days. I was looking for some support during this time, as the threat of a death by AIDS was quite real to many of us in those days. I found that there was NO SUPPORT TO BE FOUND, at the Baptist Church, where all people with the potential for having AIDS were regarded as outcasts from GOD, and undeserving of support or respect from the good Christian folks. This helped to cement my understanding that our religious institutions exist to support something other than just our “spiritual natures”, and their ignorance of such things causes the injection of some really unhealthy outlooks on life and love into the collective mindsets of their parishioners.
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The last straw for me was when the lead minister claimed that of all of God’s creatures, only man has a soul, and that all of earth’s creatures have no basic spiritual essence, I was aghast. A religion that makes such a claim for man by uplifting its own standing in God’s universe by reducing the spiritual standing of his animal brothers and sisters is Ptolemaic, self-centered and egotistical to the absolute extreme, and another supporting reason as to why our earth is under such attack right now. As an individual searching for the “Truth Of Being” I thought it was best to steer clear of organized religion, where truth is not so much a sacred value, but instead more a medium for ignorance and a marketable commodity that also is used to help keep people philosophically controlled, and united in one particular way of looking at life. Historically, religion in general remains the primary avenue for the proliferation of ignorance among the people who don’t have the insight or take the time to think for themselves..
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I was educated by a new teacher, a recovering alcoholic by the name of Jack Boland, who had released to the world many series of tapes on recovery and spirituality. I was given one of his tape series of recovery by a co-worker at the Fred Meyer warehouse, John Johnson, of whom I will be eternally grateful to, on May18, 1987. I then listened to these tapes over and over, during the Memorial Day weekend, and something miraculous happened afterwards, probably as a result of my openness to the experience brought about by listening to these tapes, and practicing some simple steps.
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On May 24, I drove towards Beaverton to visit with Randy Olson. Randy was a lifelong friend, fellow party monster, and rent sharing partner in 1986 when I contemplated, and then took the active steps towards committing suicide on January 28, 1986 and beyond. As I drove over the West Hills, a wonderful vision came to me, accompanied by a feeling that I had not had since I was twelve years old. It was the vision of a loving mother (actually, the Mona Lisa), holding a baby, and I felt the love of this wonderful UNIVERSE for the first time in my lifetime (later, I was taught to understand that this energy is the Divine Feminine, of which our patriarchal world continues to suppress daily, and has successfully done so, more or less, for at least the last 2000 years). The wonderful feelings that accompanied that vision became known to me as divine horripilations.
Mysterious Image of divine Mother’s love?
There is the love we have for each other, for our friends, our pets, our children, our families, but this love that I felt flow into me, and through me, transported me into a heightened awareness, and awe. The beauty was too great to talk about, the feeling so overwhelming, so healing, so resurrecting.
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The image of the Mona Lisa holding a baby is a fascinating, enlightening image. It was reported some time back that Leonardo DaVinci had painted the Mona Lisa as a self-portrait of himself, in feminine form. His message is subject to interpretation, but in today’s terms, he was honoring his feminine side, or nature. He saw that the source of all creativity came from this mysterious, non-conscious center within himself where feelings of wonder, awe, mystery, and sensitivity to and compassion for others arises from. His mission was to symbolically represent the divine within himself, through the most effective medium of the day, which was painting. My own consciousness chose this as a healing image for myself, and I also saw how this feminine side carried all of the divine love and deep feelings of goodness that I had ever wanted for myself. I was literally re-birthing myself, and this image of the mother holding the baby pictorially represented that new birth to perfection.
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Jesus, in his teachings of 2000 years ago, repeatedly referred to God as “the Father within”. That characterization does little for many of us, who instead see a more balanced understanding of the divine intention. It is no wonder that the Christian faith became so highly patriarchal, and even to this day there is an imbalance within the spiritual world as a direct result of these errors in understanding. To bring healing to me, “God” suplanted the “father within”, be it vestiges of my own father’s wayward teachings, or even Jesus’s, and healed the imbalance with a sense of unconditional motherly love. And, I was that love, go figure!
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I found that I was to be attracted to women, as well as enlightened male teachers.
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In August of 1987, I met Marie Schmidt, a practitioner of Joel Goldsmith’s
The Infinite Way,
which is a movement involved with mysticism and spiritual healing.. She was a woman about 87 years old, who taught every Sunday at the old YWCA on 10th Avenue in downtown Portland. I had seen a simple advertisement for her tape group, while attending the International New Thought Alliance conference in Portland in August of 1987. The tape group was a combination meditation group, and a forum for listening to the taped teachings of Joel Goldsmith, a spiritual healer and mystic who first began his healing practice shortly after the Great Depression began.
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She had been holding weekly meditations and tape recorded playbacks of Joel’s actual messages since 1962. Marie would sit in the front of the room, and lead a 15 minute meditation, followed by the playing of a cassette tape of one hour length. She had a collection of at least 300 tapes, of which I eventually copied virtually all of them, and committed them to memory as best that I could. Marie had over 1000 hours of his recorded messages, which she ended up giving to me, and which I converted to digital format.. Some of the tapes were the old style reel-to-reel, and I was not able to convert those tapes to the more modern digital format..
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I was captured by this group, which had mostly older people who attended. I believe that I was the youngest person there, for the period from 1987-1991, while I remain involved with her group. Initially, I kept my distance from most of the people, not really being sure what the whole business was about. I eventually drew Joan Madsen and Marcus Jones into the group, who I knew from the International New Thought Alliance convention of 1987, as well as Alcoholics Anonymous, and the Living Enrichment Center.
One day in February of 1989, after I had just broken off an engagement to be married to Laurie H, and I was devastated. The sweet old woman, Marie, offered me a “healing session”. Well, I had my doubts, and nothing to lose, and I was a little curious about this “healing business”. I went up to her apartment, still devastated, and meditated with her for 15 minutes. At the end, Marie spoke the “message” that she heard from Spirit, in regards to me.
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“More perfect than you are, you could never be”,
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with
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“All that is human, is illusion”.
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Well, OK, but how can I possibly apply that spiritual salve?..
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As I thanked her for her time, I then noticed I was totally at peace, and I was “healed” of all of my emotional disturbances around the ending of my engagement to Laurie. It was as if the winds of Spirit had blown away everything from my mind, except peace and joy.
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As I look at my life’s history, I have been healed by its Loving Mystery.
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I later tried to have her heal my mentally sick ex-wife, Donelle, with no success. So there were limits to her ability, though she always stated that God heals, not herself . I can almost now hear Marie’s voice, telling me, in regards to all of us:
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“More Perfect than you are, you could never be.”
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How that manifests in all of our lives remains an unraveled mystery, to be experienced by us each day that we have the privilege to wake up. She would tell me that we are all blessed by each other’s continued walk through life. Love goes before us, to make all of “the crooked places straight”. We are Loved, and, in fact are Love Itself. The body goes where it must, but also, so does our Hearts. Go in Peace and Love, and always be willing to bring healing to any situation, for that is our mission, and who we are always to be.
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In 1994, Marie was placed in the St. Andrews home near Mt. Tabor, when her nephew noted her deteriorating health, and he was concerned about her decline. Marie continued to practice healing with the other patients, even while under care of the attending professionals. My last visit to her, prior to her death, was characterized by her still restating to Sharon and me of our perfection in the eyes of God.
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“More Perfect than you are, you could never be.”
At lunch with Marie, Sharon, and I, around 1990
Believe in yourself. Believe in your potential. Be in your UNIQUE PRESENCE.
BE NOW, AND BE STILL, AND KNOW THAT “I AM” IS THE DOOR TO THE ONLY GOD THAT WE CAN EXPERIENCE AS HUMAN BEINGS. I dedicate this chapter to my wife, Sharon White.
Sharon is younger at age 72 than when she was 40.
The lessons of love learned while with my wife Sharon could encompass an entire book of its own.. On July 4, 1989 I met Sharon, and her daughter Hayley while attending a Course In Miracles discussion group in the basement of the Unity Church in southeast Portland. Right off the bat I was struck by what a genuine human being that she was, appearing real, honest, deep, and personal. Her daughter exhibited some unusual behavior, and I could tell that Sharon was dealing with troubling mental health issues with family members.
Sharon (at age 42) and Hayley, 1989
I eventually joined in relationship with Sharon, after being reintroduced to her at a Living Enrichment Center gathering around the Twelve Steps of Recovery, a several week presentation by Mary Boggs, the minister of LEC. We both scheduled our attendance at a Course In Miracles weekend retreat that LEC was sponsoring over the weekend of August 4, 1989. When the retreat was cancelled, I offered to Sharon that we create a retreat of our own. I chose Cultus Lake, a mountain lake in Central Oregon, which my family had camped at several times when I was a young person. We proceeded to hit it off so good together that weekend, that we knew we were right for each for now, and for a long, long time to come.
LEC Course In Miracles Weekend handout
Come September, though, I could see that I was becoming quite involved in Sharon’s life, and if I did not travel to Boston soon, and research a powerful dream that I had, I would have no opportunity to do so in the future. So I arranged a week trip to Boston, not knowing what in the heck I was going to find there. I knew that the Mother Church of the Church Of Christian Science was located there. Joel Goldsmith’s teachings had some of their origins from Mary Baker Eddy’s teachings, so maybe I was supposed to go there to see or hear something Ms. Eddy related. I did go by the church, and sat in on a few sessions. I was asked by one of the ministers what I was doing there, just visiting, or did I have a desire to learn more about Christian Science? I told her that I was a student of Joel Goldsmith, and that I had also read some of Mary’s works. She immediately escorted me to Mary’s private study, which nobody had access to, save a special few individuals. She told me that I probably would like to sit and pray and meditate there, and for me to take as much time as I like. So, that is what I did. I found my sense of the sacred and profound, and felt blessed by this exposure to the Church, and to Mary Baker Eddy’s private study. I will never know for sure if this is what the dream wanted for me to do, but that is what I did. I wanted to make sure to honor the energy, and its revelations, as best as I could.
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I moved in permanently with Sharon later that year, and her daughter Hayley lived with us until July of 1990, when she struck out on her own, to find her own truth and healing. I was having some difficulty communicating with Hayley. Sharon and her daughter had some unique mutual control dynamics that were not healthy or satisfying to witness, or to participate with. Sharon ended up signing up for a class from Diana Martha Clark, who was teaching a twelve step recovery course on co-dependency, which Sharon ended up benefiting greatly from. Hayley had a lot of growing up to do, and I became disturbed by her need for chaos, need to hold her mother as an emotional hostage, and her lack of respect for my need for peace and honest, loving expression in communication.
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Hayley could be particularly harsh, angry, and insensitive, and I felt like I was always walking on eggshells with her. One weekend in July of 1990, I went to my grandma Henry’s home to stay while she was out-of-town. I spent literally the whole weekend in prayer and meditation around my troubles with Hayley. Then a most unusual thing happened. I “heard” that my issues around Hayley had been resolved, and that she was not to be an issue any further. I went back to our apartment that Sunday evening, and upon my re-entry, I was informed that Hayley had decided to move out, and live with Martha Cannon, a former patient of Sharon’s. Remarkably, the only problems that arose with my early relationship with Sharon, other than daughter related, revolved around Sharon assuming that I knew what her needs were before she expressed them to me, but that misunderstanding quickly worked itself out.
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As I look at my history, I see the workings of the Mystery.
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Sharon and I shared a common passion of finding and expressing the joy and truth in life, and we meditated and prayed together for many hundreds of hours together, especially early on in our relationship. The fruitage of one of our shared meditations is the following “poem”. I had a particularly deep, profound connection during a meditation around 1990, where I had once again entered into Truth’s domain. There was no apparent message, that is, until I returned to my conscious mind. The silence then used the words in my memory to create the following message. The first stanza I wrote in 1985, prior to any real spiritual unfolding, and I could never finish it until this meditation in 1990 filled in the body of it:
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THE VOICE OF AWAKENING
Though the slowly shifting sands of time,
Create ever taller hills for this lost soul to climb,
It must be in my selfish, hateful world of no reason or rhyme,
I must begin the search for Truth, to find the Love that is sublime.
“Oh seeker of Truth, God’s high mount you would climb,
Though you now stumble through the valley’s shifting sands of time.
Stop confusing your mind with worn out rhyme and reason,
For they are forever charged by Truth with treason!”
“Oh mental marathoner , only on Life’s treadmill you now stand,
Just re-using the same words and thoughts keeps you life’s ‘also ran’
You’ll forever chase in vain Love’s all-knowing voice,
So be still, for with your run’s end, is the Cause to rejoice!”
“Oh marionette’s dancing image of the screen of the world’s mind,
With all of those conditioned beliefs in control, what freedom could you find?
Release yourself from all of those memories’ materialistic strings
To prepare for the inner Wisdom that only my Intelligence brings!”
“Oh shadow boxer of evil, when will you ever tire?
Tis only champion of a dream world to which you aspire!
Cease giving energy to your illusions with those mental pugilist blows,
And reveal the peaceful mind of the One who now knows!”
“So please wake up to Love’s voice sweet somnambulator,
And realize the eternal truth that “I” within “you” is greater,
Than any mental image you could ever form or learn,
And then your World will reflect the One for whom you now yearn!”
And then the real “punch line” to the search for Truth:
“To be in realization of Truth, is to find God’s high mount another illusion to climb,
Created by fearful, desirous minds caught on the merry-go-round of time”
The dark, restless mind remains forever bereft of Love’s Rhyme and Truth’s Reason,
And only chases after mirages, until it sees all of its movements are guilty of treason!”
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While continuing in a loving relationship with Sharon, I joined with many communities of like-minded people, or continued my present participation in them, such as Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous, Adult Children of Alcoholics, the Course In Miracles support groups, the Infinite Way, The Living Enrichment Center (LEC), with a very important men’s group experience that arose through my relationship with LEC, and The Empowerment Community with its many offshoot core groups. Sharon and I became part of a “couple’s group” with two other couples, which became a 20 year affair, lasting all the way until August of 2017 (ending with the death of our dear friend, Marty).
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One of our backpacking trips was to become quite a memorable experience for both Sharon and me. I awoke one morning during the summer of 1992, and finished preparing to leave on a weekend hiking and camping trip with Sharon, up to the Mt. Adams Wilderness Area. My senses were somehow heightened, and I felt as though I could see and hear better than I was accustomed to. Food tasted better, the air carried many more scents, and my entire body felt alive with vitality, and sensation, well beyond what I was accustomed to experiencing in my day-to-day life. I had to work that day, so I ignored my “extra sensory perception” for most of the work day, and I remained excited about joining with my beloved partner on a hike to Lookinglass Lake, which would end up becoming around a 10 mile hike, in one direction. 
Our drive took longer than expected, and we arrived in the Wilderness area too late to reach the developed campground, so we parked for the night in a snow park area, and set up our tent to shelter for the evening. We sat outside of the tent, and I began to experience, in its fullness, that “extrasensory perception” yet again, but much more profoundly this time. It was as if I had sensory receptors in the dirt, the sky, and the trees. It was as if I had grown roots, so to speak. I not only could see the ground all around us, and the beautiful trees, and the sky, I could FEEL the ground, and it was as if I extended all the way through everywhere that I could see. It was the experience, in a new form, of “all that I can see is myself”. It was like I was “hearing” and “seeing” and “feeling” for all of nature that surrounded us, and it was a mystical, transcendental event. My new body was the earth, the sky, the trees, the wind, the insects, and my human shell.
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We finally lay down for the evening in our tent, and though I was still quite profoundly experiencing this event, I was able to fall asleep beside my beloved. Shortly afterward, I awoke to a great light enveloping our tent, and I arose to go outside to see what was happening. In the sky appeared a Great Light, and the entire surrounding area was bathed in a light that totally eliminated all shadows, even though it was near midnight! I awoke Sharon, who rose to witness the light. To this day, I have no clue if the light is associated with my “heightened mystic awareness”, or if it was just a coincidence that a UFO would awaken us to bathe us in its radiance. After we returned home, I told my mother about the light, and she reported that the week before, a mysterious light in the Mt Adams wilderness area was also reported, so who knows what was happening there? 
Looking back at my life’s history, I remain immersed in the light of its Mystery.
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In 1992, I was still in communication with my ex-wife, Donelle. At this point, she was in the mental hospital at Fort Steilacoom, Washington. She was committed yet again in 1990, and was languishing in there when I visited her. This was the 3rd time I had visited her there. She always had a shopping list for me to fill, invariably with some types of makeup. She still liked to make herself look as pretty as possible, but the effects of the medication over the years on her had taken a horrible toll. She was twice her normal weight, and she could not keep her food down consistently.
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The most beautiful woman who I had known from my youth was no longer that, and I was quite saddened, once again, to have to connect with her while she was so diseased. The medication was quite the “double edged sword”, and had been for all of her adult life. I don’t know what drug cocktails they were giving her this time, but they had the same conflicted end results. (I now have little respect for the drug industry, or for a system that prescribes these drugs to people, rather than treating people in a more holistic manner).
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This particular weekend, my wife Sharon was running in the annual Hood to Coast relay race. At this point in my life, I was not a runner, having hung up my running shoes in high school, and also having retired from recreational basketball in 1985 due to back problems. My only responsibility was to drive to Seaside to pick Sharon up at the end of her adventure, after my visit with Donelle. I was quite down after my visit, and the drive to Seaside from Ft. Steilacoom was very dark, and subdued.
When I started to enter the outskirts of Seaside, without even seeing one H2C (Hood To Coast) participant, I picked up on a new energy that just started “vibrating in the ethers”. The collective self was informing me that my individual self would further evolve with the acceptance of this energy. I came to name this energy “TEAMWORK” after the fact, not knowing what else to call it. It was the energy of collective support, love, companionship, and goal achieving, and I had never known that as a youth, as I had never experienced that on grade or high school sports teams, of which I never qualified for. It was like a beautiful “spell” had come over me, and I was totally captured by it!.
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Running through my life’s history, I seem to have stumbled over a greater Mystery.
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I had my first experience of crowd energy
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.when I attended my first rock concert in 1971. There were well over 12,000 people attending, and the MIND BLOWING experience was a unitive event where my presence was distributed over the entirety of the crowd. If you have never experienced this, you cannot understand this. Over the many years from 1971, through the present moment, I have found that I am sensitive to crowd energy (a palpable form of collective consciousness), and I can “feel” the collective energy of several types of groups of people, and actually draw from it, and add to it if I am receptive to what is going on. And, unfocused groups put off such diffuse energy that there is nothing special to tune in to, and I find little to attract me to such energy.
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Since there were over 12,000 runners and many more support people at the event, it is no wonder that a field was created in and around Seaside, the destination of the great world-famous event. I became so impressed with the energy of the experience that I committed to running with Sharon, and I began to run with her several months later, so that the next year I could join her Hood To Coast team, the Sole Mates.
(note: This experience led me to become one of the top local older runners in our area, culminating in way too many awards, and injuries, but also leading me into a deeper understanding of two of the darker forces predominant in male collective consciousness, which are excess competition and greed)
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It was the summer of 1993, and I had scheduled a 5-day retreat with Eileen Bowden and 20 other followers of the Infinite Way, a mystical healing path originated by Joel Goldsmith (died in 1964). The retreat took place in Federal Way, Washington, at the Pacific Palisades retreat center overlooking the Puget Sound. I spent the four days in silent contemplation and meditation, with several group talks given by Eileen over the course of the time period.
Eileen Bowden Retreat
Eileen Bowden, who lived in British Columbia, Canada, was a student of Joel Goldsmith, the originator of the Infinite Way. Joel was a non-practicing Jew, and was led into Christian Science in the 20’s, while his father was on his death-bed. Joel watched a Christian Science practitioner heal his father, and Joel caught fire with the possibilities for bringing spiritual healing to all of life (life that is receptive to healing, that is) because of this. She was hand-picked by Joel to continue teaching the Infinite Way, as she “had the message”, meaning that she had achieved, or attained, the “Presence”. She would enter into the sacred energy, and then give her unprepared talks (she spoke extemporaneously for at least 1 hour for each talk given). Our role as “listeners” was to be in a sacred, meditative space, as well, so as to contribute to the total energy of the experience. The result for me from this experience was that I was totally “involved” in the sacred energy of the Spirit, with the total quietness/stillness of my mind complemented by perfect peace, and joy. I carried this energy for a full week after the experience. Some call this experience samadhi, bliss, enlightenment, heaven, or whatever points to that state beyond the normal human, verbally intoxicated state.
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Awakening Part 4
(written in 1992-1993 time period)
Perfection lies, behind all eyes,
We, who would look within ourselves, will find,
The Sublime Surprise, of which all Life does comprise,
The Divine Self of all Mankind.
We, who have made our choice, with one free voice,
Call to our Eternal Source Supreme,
We will no longer roam, we are coming Home,
We are awakening from the “human” dream!
With courage draught, from fear made naught,
We move from temporal shadow to Eternal Light,
The Kingdom sought becomes the Vision caught,
Whosoever overcomes, now sees with unhindered sight!
The Love All-Knowing, the Truth now showing,
With Divinity, We walk hand in hand.
In us its growing, through us its flowing,
Embracing all between space and land.
With Hearts entwined, One Soul Divine,
To this world, We are a blessing immense.
Though we pass this way for but a day,
With Divine experience, who would dare dispense?
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The experience was somewhat perplexing to Sharon, as she wondered why I was having this profound experience, and why it continued on for so long. She had many questions, but the perfect peace that I was experiencing was not ebbing, at least initially. I had to return to work, as I worked for a living as an electrician. At work, the energy continued to flow in its own unique way, but well into the work week I started to question the value of “enlightenment” when I still had to continue to work. My co-workers were so out of touch with these things that I considered important, special, or sacred, and I could not quite get a handle on how this spiritual experience would have any value in the workplace. I dared not speak about it, or show any type of behavior that would distinguish me from anybody else, and the dominating attitude for me was to “just blend in” as best I could.
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I had already cut way back on meditation with the beginning of my running career in 1993, and when the spiritual “energy” finally ebbed, I despaired a bit, and I felt a little awkward pursuing any deeper connection. I needed a powerful ego to support my intentions to make a successful career, and I knew that I needed a healthy sense of self esteem, beyond just having my “secret connection”. I had started questioning that commitment to the connection, and to the value of a process that I was uncertain as to how to integrate into the rest of my life. I needed an empowered self, a self that could promote and defend itself from the often times threatening world of toxic male dominated construction trades. Ever so gradually, my commitment to my spiritual unfoldment began to ebb, and I wrapped my spirit baby in a blanket, and placed it into a garage so that I could sleep, just like my parents did to me as a youngster. But my love for my partner, Sharon, and for all of our shared friendships and family did not ebb, but continued to increase and enhance the quality of my life.
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July 30, 1994, Sharon and I had a “commitment ceremony” in our backyard. We had over 75 people attend, including most of our immediate family, and many, many friends. I had solidified in my own mind and heart the absolute value of my relationship with Sharon. She came to represent to me integrity, honesty in communication, speaking from the heart, empowered divine feminine energy, compassion, service to others, and the celebration of our shared humanity at the highest level, of any person that I have ever met, even up to this very day. I have made many mistakes in my life, but I celebrate every moment of every day my relationship with Sharon. She is truly made in the image of the highest power in our universe.
Giving our vows, July 30, 1994 Eddy Brame (Crouch) officiating
Life Is Better With You, by Michael Franti https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XEOVl875d0
The years 1995-2005 were dominated by employment for both Sharon and I. Sharon, who is a nurse, became a manager for Legacy, and eventually became a hospice nurse for Providence. I continued on my career as an electrician, occasionally accepting management roles. This also was the period that I focused on improving my running ability, as well as increasing my participation in our family environment. Gradually, our huge circle of friends diminished during this period of time, and death started creeping into our awareness as important family members and friends starting passing away. Losing my grandmother in 1995, and Victor Thomas in 1996 were two most troubling losses. In late 1987, I had a dream where I saw a ring with seven jewels on it, but it was missing its major stone, though the ring had a setting just waiting for the jewel to be inserted. The missing jewel was much, much bigger than the seven stones. What could this dream possibly mean? I was engaged to be married to “woman number seven”, Laurie Hartmann, at the time, so to have this dream was disconcerting. More was to be revealed at a much later time, when my future wife, Sharon, was to choose a ring for our second wedding in Las Vegas, in 2004. Without any knowledge of my dream, Sharon proceeded to pick a ring at the original Mother Goose store with SEVEN SMALL STONES and ONE LARGE CENTRAL STONE. She had picked out, without me being present or having ever told her about my dream, the EXACT ring from my dream. I had forgotten about the dream, until I located a journal in August of 2018 that I had in storage since 1988.
seven jeweled ring with big stone
As I look at my history, I am surrounded by the “rings” of its Mystery.. Sharon retired from her career as a hospice nurse in early 2009, and wrote her first book, Whose Death is It Anyway, A Hospice Nurse Remembers Sharon helped me with the care of my father, Beryl, over the period of time after the death of my mother in 2009, though Dad’s death in September of 2017. Sharon took over care of my aunt Susie, Dad’s sister, after the death of her daughter, Sharyn, in August 2017. Sharon continues to be an invaluable guide and aide for me as I walk down the challenging roads of being present for dying friends and family members, including pets.
Sharon, Penny, Evey at Sharon’s 70th birthday Parachuting Experience
Sharon remains an inspiration to me. She appears to get younger every year, and her outlook on life tends towards optimism, and she remains upbeat. She is a “connector” to this day, and she reaches out to everybody that she can, in her attempt to be the voice for healing, love, and friendship in her world. She continues to draw miracles into her life, and she has a special intuition, or inner knowledge, that allows for her to make connections with people who the “normal folk” of the world would never get to experience. Sharon continues to be the “gem of greatest value” in my life, and her spirit sparkles with a brilliance unmatched by anyone that I have ever met.
Sharon on a Greek ferry, 2018
