The Treehouse Journal
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For your reading enjoyment, visit my blog at:
Cherryhill Journal - A Journey Back to Nature
...and so it began....
It was a psychology course called Behavioral Changes that started me on
a steady course of Journaling - keeping a written record of my journey
from there to here...or so it seems. It was during the years 1997 and 1998
that I knew I could no longer continue to live as I had always lived. What
had brought me pleasure and meaning...no longer seemed important and
I was left with a gaping hole and nothing to fill it with. And so, I left on a
new journey - a journey from all that I knew before - the perceived
"known" and began taking baby steps into the realm of the "unknown".
The realm of the unknown is where we all first lived - as infants and
children, learning and experiencing everything for the first time...until,
at some point, we reached a place called the "Comfort Zone" - a place
where we "think" we know most everything that needs to be known and
where we tuck away everything we "think" we will need in order to stay
happy...yea right.
The comfort zone began to smell a bit stale and every time I stepped out
into a new experience, I got a glimpse of what I had left behind with my
child...and I wanted it back. You see, every moment of our lives is "new"
and yet, too often, we see it through yesterday's eyes - "been there, done
that", and all that could have been is lost in translation.
I have established this page to capture some of the highlights from the
journey I've undertaken over the last ten years. I've grabbed a journal
entry here and an on-line post from there - a chronological time line that
sheds a bit of light on what mind was in charge at this time or that, and
reveals the steps that eventually led to growth as what I like to call the
Humane Being that I like to think I might be...the evolving Humane Being
that I think is still finding his way...
July 8, 1998
It’s 5:30am on this wonderful Wednesday morning. I woke up, and got up before
Michael this morning, without the use of an alarm (or should I say “opportunity”)
clock. The early morning is one of my most favorite times. Yet this day is
different…it is the day things begin to change for me and those I touch. This, the
first day of the rest of my life will be different. Beginning with this writing, the first
of my daily journals, I begin a journey towards my destiny. A destiny I am now
ready to choose for myself and take the steps necessary to make it a reality. For far
too long I’ve sat back and watched those around me (and those on TV) instead of
seeing the potential and opportunities screaming to be heard within myself…my
essence is to be unleashed.
I’m now forty years old. Not too old to stop me from attaining any of my dreams,
yet old enough where I need to get my ass in gear and develop and carry out the
plans I need to reach the plateau of personal freedom, true happiness, and the
recognition of my ancestral inheritance. These gifts from those who came before
me…the calm, easygoing and artistic nature provided by my Grandfather
Frederick, whom I barely remember,…the love and appreciation of music, the love
of writing as a craft and possible livelihood, and perhaps most important, the love
of those human beings we share this Earth with and all the potential and magical
stories which can be shared if only I initiate that conversation with the stranger
sitting next to me,…these are the gifts I received from my Grandmother Frederick
(along with her piano),…the longing for hugs and kisses from those I share my life
with, the love of food as an art and ability to seem overflowing with love for family
are the gifts I received from both my Grandmother Herchenroder and her mom, Ma
Karl,…the wisdom that it’s never too late to enrich your life with the family that’s
been right in front of you all along, I received from my Grandfather Herchenroder,
…the longing for professional achievement and recognition was the gift of my Aunt
Kay,…and of course the gifts from my mom and dad,…which I will have to get into
tomorrow, since it’s now 6:30am and time to get ready to go to work. That last
sentence spells out what needs to inspire me to continue on my quest for
fulfillment…to be able to call this writing my “work” and to be able to transform it’s
meaning from a dutiful meaningless chore, to a lifelong love to be enjoyed and
shared. See you tomorrow…LIVE LIFE WITH PASSION, don’t let it pass you by!
July 9, 1998
Well here I am again…day 2 of my transformation. Again I’m sitting here in front
of the computer at 5:30am to work at making this time of writing a permanent
habit which can keep me company for the rest of my life.
Both Mark Jr. and Michael were up when I came downstairs this morning. Mark’s
sleeping habit’s are all screwed up because of all the overnight working hours he
has been working at Hannaford’s (a supermarket). He and Michael went off to do
Michael’s paper route together which will make Michael’s day. He adores his older
brother and treasures any time they spend together.
I know I am so lucky to have the wonderful family I have. Even with the problems
Mark Jr. and I have had over the years, he’s a great young man and such a
wonderful musician. Gram Frederick would have been so proud. His talent
reminds me of that which my brother Brian has. Using this talent to make his
dreams become reality will be the test of time. We all have gifts and talents and
are given such a short time to develop and perfect them that in most cases they wilt
away, never to bloom again. The distractions of the world are so very powerful.
We are pulled in so many directions by the pressures placed upon us by family,
friends, society, drugs, the Indians (gambling casino’s), etc., etc., etc…that the time
left for the treasures waiting to be extracted from ourselves are often left untapped.
Well, the boys (young men) just got back, which reminds me that I got off track
slightly from yesterdays topic which I was to complete today. It’s now almost
quarter past six and I only have fifteen minutes left to write. As usual I was pulled
away from my task at hand this morning…I took time to make a couple of tuna
sandwiches and a couple of pieces of peanut butter on toasts to dunk in my second
cup of coffee (that lifelong Frederick tradition) which has cut into my writing time.
Yet, let me try to finish with some thoughts about my parents.
My dad and I are alike in so many ways. He was an artist as a young man and his
love for music bloomed and kept him company during his middle aged years. He is
a quiet and emotional man, both traits he passed on to me. He has a love for his
home and the nature which surrounds it. He left his family and friends and moved
to a far away land filled with palm trees and alligators, a dream fulfilled for Sandy
(my step-mom) and himself.
Well, again it’s time to go and get ready for “work”…at least it’s golf day, and the
weathermen say partly sunny skies. I set off to work on the many goals I’ve set for
myself, the short term goals of eating (and weighing) less, completing my basement
projects and improving my golf game by utilizing only irons until I perfect them
before moving on to the woods,…and more importantly, my long term goals of
writing as a craft and livelihood and leaving the job which takes up so much of my
limited time left on this earth. See you tomorrow. Live life with PASSION…fulfill
your dreams and help those around you fulfill theirs!
Saturday, July 11, 1998
Well, I missed writing on Friday morning because I chose to abuse myself with a
few pitchers after golf league on Thursday night. I did get one thing done though…I
developed my final strategy for dealing with how to sheet rock around the gas pipe
(you know…the basement family room project). I got up at 5:45 this morning. I
haven’t watched any TV since Monday night…and haven’t missed it at all. I
thoroughly reviewed the Saturday classifieds (cars and trucks section) which is my
first priority each Saturday morning…nothing caught my eye so I guess I won’t buy
a car today.
It’s now 7:45…where does the time go? I sat on the front steps for fifteen minutes
looking over the newspaper front-page stories and then checking on my mutual
fund prices (made some money last night while I slept). Also, while sitting there on
the steps (along with Kari) listened to the birds and soaked in the morning sun. I
want to accomplish so much today…wash and sell my motorcycle, …finish the
ceiling in the basement, …get my letter and $75 donation in the mail to Geoffrey
(Architect I work with) who is biking for AIDS in Texas in September…and of course
this writing which I almost put off till Monday. But putting things off is why things
in my life never get done…never put off till tomorrow what can be done
today…tomorrow may never get here.
Oh yea, what ever happened to those gifts I received from my mother? Well I
suppose I keep putting this off because it requires the deepest thought. Without
doubt, the biggest influence in my life, I should be able to write for hours and yet I
keep putting it off…what’s up with that? Anyway, she is my biggest inspiration.
Her current life, while I’m sure, at times, is very difficult; is honorable, meaningful,
earthly and physically active. She lives in paradise and treasures the nature she is
surrounded by. She takes care of the physical, mental and spiritual needs of those
she feels a certain familial responsibility for…and even more, provides the same for
those in need within her Adirondack community. She never got caught up with the
materialistic world we live in. Her life is filled with needs and has little room for
wants. She sees beauty in things others would never consider. A two by four or a
sheet of wafer board, normally things others hide, are sanded and stained and
viewed through her eyes as works of art. Happy wood, her name for wafer board,
which is a composite of waste wood chip and glue, exemplifies her outlook on life
itself. Seeing the beauty in things “normal” people cannot understand, places her
at a celestial level very few people achieve. I’ve learned so much by observing the
wisdom of her life…which include both, the deep disappointments as well as the
self-realization of independence and self-confidence. She fills her day with orderly
tasks, which allow her to experience “flow”. I’ve spent many years studying books
and taking classes on the subject she’s mastered through her life’s experience. She
continually sets and attains goals important to her. She can do anything she sets
her mind to.
Well time to go…I’ve set my goals for the day…now it’s time to make them
happen.
September 11, 2001
This will be a day that I will never forget. It saddens me greatly...there is no
turning back, and the virus is spreading like wildfire - revenge is being sought at a
level never before seen. Our New York City office (1 Penn Plaza) closed down soon
after the second plane hit the towers. Our hearts were at a standstill...how do you
react to the unthinkable? One of our directors was scheduled to be at a 10:00am
meeting in one of the buildings destroyed - fortunately he hadn't yet left our Penn
Plaza building when the devastating news stopped time in its tracks. Even our
building, here in downtown Albany, was closed down, along with all state buildings
around lunchtime. I spent much of the day sitting in front of the TV and I still hope
to awaken from what can only be a nightmare. Our sorrow feeds the joy of those
who see an injury to an evil empire - the money mongers and the military machine,
both received powerful blows today. Yet, what I see is tears in the eyes of those who
don't take part in the politics of the world - those who are the victims in the game
between earthly greed’s and power-hungry parasites and controlling big-brother
and gods who tell their followers to kill. I fear the events of the next days and
weeks - it is not the fear of the unknown - it is the fear that we have lost the peace
that was here yesterday - the loss of the known. The President has been flying
around all day at 40,000 feet - out of the fear that he may be a target. I will listen
to what he has to say tonight - yet I think his words will focus on revenge, and a
lesson that must be learned by those who brazenly believe that they can carry out
such horrors on the American people. Well, regardless what he says - such
destruction is, and always will be possible - and our weapons of mass destruction
are powerless against one man who is willing to give his life for a cause - for what
he believes in - for what "his" God tells him he must do. The mind that has been
properly conditioned is a weapon of mass destruction...as we have seen today. It
did bring to light, all at once, how pitifully worthless I felt as I sat at my desk after
standing in front of a large screen TV in our building's lobby for a half-hour just
after the second plane crashed into the second 110-story death trap. It brought
such perspective to my job...my life. There must be a way to awaken the minds of
those who plant the seeds of the parasites - or at least I pray that there is.
Love, Verner
September 16, 2001
Still having a hard time concentrating on anything but the tragedy in New York
City. Spent much of today cutting up wood - playing lumberjack. Using the
chainsaw and then splitting the wood with my maul kept my mind and body busy.
Listened to some talk radio for a while yet found it predictably annoying and
hateful. I did take a few pictures this morning - it was a beautiful, sunny
morning with nothing but blue sky. I took a couple pictures of the small lake - the
trees so perfectly reflected in the still water. Then I saw a jet extremely high in the
sky...the two trails of smoke coming from its huge engines...I snapped a picture of it,
and its trail...as if it were the first time I'd seen a jet flying across the sky - yet, it
was the first time I'd seen a jet with my new eyes, the eyes that were provided to me
this past Tuesday. I looked down into the water and saw the reflection of the jet
and its trail and snapped another picture...the gentle ripples reminded me of
shattered illusions. I did think about a lesson that Wayne Dyer has spoken
about. What happens when you squeeze an orange? What comes out? Orange
juice is what comes out...why? - Because that's what's inside. What comes out of us
when we are squeezed? Listen to the discussions all around us...listen to the
President...listen to the out-of-control radio talk show hosts (no...never mind, don't
listen to them) - we've been squeezed real hard and what had been inside is now
overflowing everywhere. There is a lot of fear and hate, feelings of revenge,
stereotyping - don't get me wrong I want this to never happen again and I hope
there comes about a way to put an end to it without the need to sacrifice thousands
of more lives - our sons and daughters...as well as theirs - yet my being squeezed
has not resulted in hate - most do not understand, and yet I am relieved for not too
long ago, I would have been one of the ones saying "nuke those bastards...all of
them" - now I see them as part of me - just an accident of birth...me here, them there
- I could be them, given their conditioning - robots carrying out the commands of a
God that was so precisely planted within the space that could have cultivated a
friend, a messenger of understanding - yet never had a chance.
Love, Verner
March 21, 2002
The wind is blowing - actually howling - outside my window, here in my "child’s"
room. The winds have been doing the same in my head and in my world and the
ride has been difficult lately. My mind has been playing tug of war with the
paradigms that once were and those that I thought might be...and now...I'm just
not sure.
Joan and I have decided to sell our home, although we haven't decided where we
want to move to, and so much of that decision falls on me...and my job. I see a
direction in my workplace that I just don't see myself ever being in harmony with.
The demands they want to place on my time I just cannot relinquish - I will not
relinquish - and so I find myself looking for the exit door - and I see it, and it is so
close that I can almost taste it, which tears at my heart even more.
I can no longer work for a house that contains more rooms than I will ever have a
need for, and I no longer want to commute and pollute my earth. All that I love is
already debt-free and mine. All I need to do is rid myself of the clutter that I've
accumulated over the years - both the materialistic and psychological clutter -
that has clouded my vision. I want my "work" to be in harmony with "me" - the me
that has come to be.
Joan and I have been taking rides in the car - looking for what is calling us. I hear
mother earth calling me, trying to get my attention away from mother culture that
had blinders on my head for so many years. I hear the messages - that she is sick
and that she needs my help, as well as the help of so many others.
I too am a believer in the Matrix - the dream that people sleepwalk through day in
and day out. I cannot get it out of my head - the way people take such nonsense so
seriously. Are they blind to the reality of what is going on outside their "comfort"
zone? I sit in meetings - two and three a day lately - listening to my co-workers
argue and passionately submerge themselves in meaningless bureaucratic "data".
I find that it is hard for me to hold my concentration on such garbage - I'm wasting
my time - my world is in crisis and I know that I am needed, because I am a part of
the world - a part of it literally...a part that hasn't been performing - that hasn't
been participating - that hasn't helped to make it whole.
Yet...that moment has passed and a new moment stares me in the face - midway
between the upper and lower chambers of the hourglass, and my pain comes to be
when I choose to spend another day amongst those lost in the matrix...instead of
exploring the moment that calls to me from the center of the hourglass, and a tear
comes to my eye as I watch the moment enter the bottom chamber - never again
will that particular opportunity be there for me to explore. This is what has been
eating away inside of me for quite some time now. I am in-between two worlds and
they are both pulling me in opposite directions...and it hurts.
I want to take the blue pill (or was it the red...) and yet all those who love me - or
think they love the "me" they believe that I am - say I would be nuts to give up all
that my job offers, both now and in retirement. ...And all I can think of is what I
will be giving up if I stay where I am - to come to the end of my life and realize that
I have never lived...that my part was never played out and as a result we all lose.
I want to become a part of this world - the real world. I want to help to open eyes
and ears to "thus". I am learning more each and every day and sometimes the
lessons are painful. Peeling away the layers of our onion causes our eyes, as well as
the eyes of some of those closest to us to burn...and sometimes to cry. The wind is
blowing - it is calling me to follow - it is showing me the direction to flow - it is
asking me to become one with it. Confused...looking for purpose...for meaning...
for...?
Love, Verner
Cherryhill Journal - A Journey Back to Nature
...and so it began....
It was a psychology course called Behavioral Changes that started me on
a steady course of Journaling - keeping a written record of my journey
from there to here...or so it seems. It was during the years 1997 and 1998
that I knew I could no longer continue to live as I had always lived. What
had brought me pleasure and meaning...no longer seemed important and
I was left with a gaping hole and nothing to fill it with. And so, I left on a
new journey - a journey from all that I knew before - the perceived
"known" and began taking baby steps into the realm of the "unknown".
The realm of the unknown is where we all first lived - as infants and
children, learning and experiencing everything for the first time...until,
at some point, we reached a place called the "Comfort Zone" - a place
where we "think" we know most everything that needs to be known and
where we tuck away everything we "think" we will need in order to stay
happy...yea right.
The comfort zone began to smell a bit stale and every time I stepped out
into a new experience, I got a glimpse of what I had left behind with my
child...and I wanted it back. You see, every moment of our lives is "new"
and yet, too often, we see it through yesterday's eyes - "been there, done
that", and all that could have been is lost in translation.
I have established this page to capture some of the highlights from the
journey I've undertaken over the last ten years. I've grabbed a journal
entry here and an on-line post from there - a chronological time line that
sheds a bit of light on what mind was in charge at this time or that, and
reveals the steps that eventually led to growth as what I like to call the
Humane Being that I like to think I might be...the evolving Humane Being
that I think is still finding his way...
July 8, 1998
It’s 5:30am on this wonderful Wednesday morning. I woke up, and got up before
Michael this morning, without the use of an alarm (or should I say “opportunity”)
clock. The early morning is one of my most favorite times. Yet this day is
different…it is the day things begin to change for me and those I touch. This, the
first day of the rest of my life will be different. Beginning with this writing, the first
of my daily journals, I begin a journey towards my destiny. A destiny I am now
ready to choose for myself and take the steps necessary to make it a reality. For far
too long I’ve sat back and watched those around me (and those on TV) instead of
seeing the potential and opportunities screaming to be heard within myself…my
essence is to be unleashed.
I’m now forty years old. Not too old to stop me from attaining any of my dreams,
yet old enough where I need to get my ass in gear and develop and carry out the
plans I need to reach the plateau of personal freedom, true happiness, and the
recognition of my ancestral inheritance. These gifts from those who came before
me…the calm, easygoing and artistic nature provided by my Grandfather
Frederick, whom I barely remember,…the love and appreciation of music, the love
of writing as a craft and possible livelihood, and perhaps most important, the love
of those human beings we share this Earth with and all the potential and magical
stories which can be shared if only I initiate that conversation with the stranger
sitting next to me,…these are the gifts I received from my Grandmother Frederick
(along with her piano),…the longing for hugs and kisses from those I share my life
with, the love of food as an art and ability to seem overflowing with love for family
are the gifts I received from both my Grandmother Herchenroder and her mom, Ma
Karl,…the wisdom that it’s never too late to enrich your life with the family that’s
been right in front of you all along, I received from my Grandfather Herchenroder,
…the longing for professional achievement and recognition was the gift of my Aunt
Kay,…and of course the gifts from my mom and dad,…which I will have to get into
tomorrow, since it’s now 6:30am and time to get ready to go to work. That last
sentence spells out what needs to inspire me to continue on my quest for
fulfillment…to be able to call this writing my “work” and to be able to transform it’s
meaning from a dutiful meaningless chore, to a lifelong love to be enjoyed and
shared. See you tomorrow…LIVE LIFE WITH PASSION, don’t let it pass you by!
July 9, 1998
Well here I am again…day 2 of my transformation. Again I’m sitting here in front
of the computer at 5:30am to work at making this time of writing a permanent
habit which can keep me company for the rest of my life.
Both Mark Jr. and Michael were up when I came downstairs this morning. Mark’s
sleeping habit’s are all screwed up because of all the overnight working hours he
has been working at Hannaford’s (a supermarket). He and Michael went off to do
Michael’s paper route together which will make Michael’s day. He adores his older
brother and treasures any time they spend together.
I know I am so lucky to have the wonderful family I have. Even with the problems
Mark Jr. and I have had over the years, he’s a great young man and such a
wonderful musician. Gram Frederick would have been so proud. His talent
reminds me of that which my brother Brian has. Using this talent to make his
dreams become reality will be the test of time. We all have gifts and talents and
are given such a short time to develop and perfect them that in most cases they wilt
away, never to bloom again. The distractions of the world are so very powerful.
We are pulled in so many directions by the pressures placed upon us by family,
friends, society, drugs, the Indians (gambling casino’s), etc., etc., etc…that the time
left for the treasures waiting to be extracted from ourselves are often left untapped.
Well, the boys (young men) just got back, which reminds me that I got off track
slightly from yesterdays topic which I was to complete today. It’s now almost
quarter past six and I only have fifteen minutes left to write. As usual I was pulled
away from my task at hand this morning…I took time to make a couple of tuna
sandwiches and a couple of pieces of peanut butter on toasts to dunk in my second
cup of coffee (that lifelong Frederick tradition) which has cut into my writing time.
Yet, let me try to finish with some thoughts about my parents.
My dad and I are alike in so many ways. He was an artist as a young man and his
love for music bloomed and kept him company during his middle aged years. He is
a quiet and emotional man, both traits he passed on to me. He has a love for his
home and the nature which surrounds it. He left his family and friends and moved
to a far away land filled with palm trees and alligators, a dream fulfilled for Sandy
(my step-mom) and himself.
Well, again it’s time to go and get ready for “work”…at least it’s golf day, and the
weathermen say partly sunny skies. I set off to work on the many goals I’ve set for
myself, the short term goals of eating (and weighing) less, completing my basement
projects and improving my golf game by utilizing only irons until I perfect them
before moving on to the woods,…and more importantly, my long term goals of
writing as a craft and livelihood and leaving the job which takes up so much of my
limited time left on this earth. See you tomorrow. Live life with PASSION…fulfill
your dreams and help those around you fulfill theirs!
Saturday, July 11, 1998
Well, I missed writing on Friday morning because I chose to abuse myself with a
few pitchers after golf league on Thursday night. I did get one thing done though…I
developed my final strategy for dealing with how to sheet rock around the gas pipe
(you know…the basement family room project). I got up at 5:45 this morning. I
haven’t watched any TV since Monday night…and haven’t missed it at all. I
thoroughly reviewed the Saturday classifieds (cars and trucks section) which is my
first priority each Saturday morning…nothing caught my eye so I guess I won’t buy
a car today.
It’s now 7:45…where does the time go? I sat on the front steps for fifteen minutes
looking over the newspaper front-page stories and then checking on my mutual
fund prices (made some money last night while I slept). Also, while sitting there on
the steps (along with Kari) listened to the birds and soaked in the morning sun. I
want to accomplish so much today…wash and sell my motorcycle, …finish the
ceiling in the basement, …get my letter and $75 donation in the mail to Geoffrey
(Architect I work with) who is biking for AIDS in Texas in September…and of course
this writing which I almost put off till Monday. But putting things off is why things
in my life never get done…never put off till tomorrow what can be done
today…tomorrow may never get here.
Oh yea, what ever happened to those gifts I received from my mother? Well I
suppose I keep putting this off because it requires the deepest thought. Without
doubt, the biggest influence in my life, I should be able to write for hours and yet I
keep putting it off…what’s up with that? Anyway, she is my biggest inspiration.
Her current life, while I’m sure, at times, is very difficult; is honorable, meaningful,
earthly and physically active. She lives in paradise and treasures the nature she is
surrounded by. She takes care of the physical, mental and spiritual needs of those
she feels a certain familial responsibility for…and even more, provides the same for
those in need within her Adirondack community. She never got caught up with the
materialistic world we live in. Her life is filled with needs and has little room for
wants. She sees beauty in things others would never consider. A two by four or a
sheet of wafer board, normally things others hide, are sanded and stained and
viewed through her eyes as works of art. Happy wood, her name for wafer board,
which is a composite of waste wood chip and glue, exemplifies her outlook on life
itself. Seeing the beauty in things “normal” people cannot understand, places her
at a celestial level very few people achieve. I’ve learned so much by observing the
wisdom of her life…which include both, the deep disappointments as well as the
self-realization of independence and self-confidence. She fills her day with orderly
tasks, which allow her to experience “flow”. I’ve spent many years studying books
and taking classes on the subject she’s mastered through her life’s experience. She
continually sets and attains goals important to her. She can do anything she sets
her mind to.
Well time to go…I’ve set my goals for the day…now it’s time to make them
happen.
September 11, 2001
This will be a day that I will never forget. It saddens me greatly...there is no
turning back, and the virus is spreading like wildfire - revenge is being sought at a
level never before seen. Our New York City office (1 Penn Plaza) closed down soon
after the second plane hit the towers. Our hearts were at a standstill...how do you
react to the unthinkable? One of our directors was scheduled to be at a 10:00am
meeting in one of the buildings destroyed - fortunately he hadn't yet left our Penn
Plaza building when the devastating news stopped time in its tracks. Even our
building, here in downtown Albany, was closed down, along with all state buildings
around lunchtime. I spent much of the day sitting in front of the TV and I still hope
to awaken from what can only be a nightmare. Our sorrow feeds the joy of those
who see an injury to an evil empire - the money mongers and the military machine,
both received powerful blows today. Yet, what I see is tears in the eyes of those who
don't take part in the politics of the world - those who are the victims in the game
between earthly greed’s and power-hungry parasites and controlling big-brother
and gods who tell their followers to kill. I fear the events of the next days and
weeks - it is not the fear of the unknown - it is the fear that we have lost the peace
that was here yesterday - the loss of the known. The President has been flying
around all day at 40,000 feet - out of the fear that he may be a target. I will listen
to what he has to say tonight - yet I think his words will focus on revenge, and a
lesson that must be learned by those who brazenly believe that they can carry out
such horrors on the American people. Well, regardless what he says - such
destruction is, and always will be possible - and our weapons of mass destruction
are powerless against one man who is willing to give his life for a cause - for what
he believes in - for what "his" God tells him he must do. The mind that has been
properly conditioned is a weapon of mass destruction...as we have seen today. It
did bring to light, all at once, how pitifully worthless I felt as I sat at my desk after
standing in front of a large screen TV in our building's lobby for a half-hour just
after the second plane crashed into the second 110-story death trap. It brought
such perspective to my job...my life. There must be a way to awaken the minds of
those who plant the seeds of the parasites - or at least I pray that there is.
Love, Verner
September 16, 2001
Still having a hard time concentrating on anything but the tragedy in New York
City. Spent much of today cutting up wood - playing lumberjack. Using the
chainsaw and then splitting the wood with my maul kept my mind and body busy.
Listened to some talk radio for a while yet found it predictably annoying and
hateful. I did take a few pictures this morning - it was a beautiful, sunny
morning with nothing but blue sky. I took a couple pictures of the small lake - the
trees so perfectly reflected in the still water. Then I saw a jet extremely high in the
sky...the two trails of smoke coming from its huge engines...I snapped a picture of it,
and its trail...as if it were the first time I'd seen a jet flying across the sky - yet, it
was the first time I'd seen a jet with my new eyes, the eyes that were provided to me
this past Tuesday. I looked down into the water and saw the reflection of the jet
and its trail and snapped another picture...the gentle ripples reminded me of
shattered illusions. I did think about a lesson that Wayne Dyer has spoken
about. What happens when you squeeze an orange? What comes out? Orange
juice is what comes out...why? - Because that's what's inside. What comes out of us
when we are squeezed? Listen to the discussions all around us...listen to the
President...listen to the out-of-control radio talk show hosts (no...never mind, don't
listen to them) - we've been squeezed real hard and what had been inside is now
overflowing everywhere. There is a lot of fear and hate, feelings of revenge,
stereotyping - don't get me wrong I want this to never happen again and I hope
there comes about a way to put an end to it without the need to sacrifice thousands
of more lives - our sons and daughters...as well as theirs - yet my being squeezed
has not resulted in hate - most do not understand, and yet I am relieved for not too
long ago, I would have been one of the ones saying "nuke those bastards...all of
them" - now I see them as part of me - just an accident of birth...me here, them there
- I could be them, given their conditioning - robots carrying out the commands of a
God that was so precisely planted within the space that could have cultivated a
friend, a messenger of understanding - yet never had a chance.
Love, Verner
March 21, 2002
The wind is blowing - actually howling - outside my window, here in my "child’s"
room. The winds have been doing the same in my head and in my world and the
ride has been difficult lately. My mind has been playing tug of war with the
paradigms that once were and those that I thought might be...and now...I'm just
not sure.
Joan and I have decided to sell our home, although we haven't decided where we
want to move to, and so much of that decision falls on me...and my job. I see a
direction in my workplace that I just don't see myself ever being in harmony with.
The demands they want to place on my time I just cannot relinquish - I will not
relinquish - and so I find myself looking for the exit door - and I see it, and it is so
close that I can almost taste it, which tears at my heart even more.
I can no longer work for a house that contains more rooms than I will ever have a
need for, and I no longer want to commute and pollute my earth. All that I love is
already debt-free and mine. All I need to do is rid myself of the clutter that I've
accumulated over the years - both the materialistic and psychological clutter -
that has clouded my vision. I want my "work" to be in harmony with "me" - the me
that has come to be.
Joan and I have been taking rides in the car - looking for what is calling us. I hear
mother earth calling me, trying to get my attention away from mother culture that
had blinders on my head for so many years. I hear the messages - that she is sick
and that she needs my help, as well as the help of so many others.
I too am a believer in the Matrix - the dream that people sleepwalk through day in
and day out. I cannot get it out of my head - the way people take such nonsense so
seriously. Are they blind to the reality of what is going on outside their "comfort"
zone? I sit in meetings - two and three a day lately - listening to my co-workers
argue and passionately submerge themselves in meaningless bureaucratic "data".
I find that it is hard for me to hold my concentration on such garbage - I'm wasting
my time - my world is in crisis and I know that I am needed, because I am a part of
the world - a part of it literally...a part that hasn't been performing - that hasn't
been participating - that hasn't helped to make it whole.
Yet...that moment has passed and a new moment stares me in the face - midway
between the upper and lower chambers of the hourglass, and my pain comes to be
when I choose to spend another day amongst those lost in the matrix...instead of
exploring the moment that calls to me from the center of the hourglass, and a tear
comes to my eye as I watch the moment enter the bottom chamber - never again
will that particular opportunity be there for me to explore. This is what has been
eating away inside of me for quite some time now. I am in-between two worlds and
they are both pulling me in opposite directions...and it hurts.
I want to take the blue pill (or was it the red...) and yet all those who love me - or
think they love the "me" they believe that I am - say I would be nuts to give up all
that my job offers, both now and in retirement. ...And all I can think of is what I
will be giving up if I stay where I am - to come to the end of my life and realize that
I have never lived...that my part was never played out and as a result we all lose.
I want to become a part of this world - the real world. I want to help to open eyes
and ears to "thus". I am learning more each and every day and sometimes the
lessons are painful. Peeling away the layers of our onion causes our eyes, as well as
the eyes of some of those closest to us to burn...and sometimes to cry. The wind is
blowing - it is calling me to follow - it is showing me the direction to flow - it is
asking me to become one with it. Confused...looking for purpose...for meaning...
for...?
Love, Verner