Special Places

Many of us have special places in our lives. Places that hold deep meaning, places that we return to again and again either in reality or in our minds. For some that place may be our real home or neighborhood. Maybe we have lived there our whole lives. The history of the place and our part in it coupled with the memories associated with various locations provides comfort and a grounding to our lives.

But for me, home is just a place I hang my hat. I have lived for at least a month in 21 different places on this earth in houses and apartments. Still, I too have a special place. Actually, my family does though I think only my cousin Chris and I hold it dear.

In the 1930's My Grandfather George H Thiele or "Daddo" as he was know to me, began to visit a place called South fork Colorado. A small logging town located on the south fork of the Rio grand in Southwest Colorado. He went each year for the trout that swam in the river, surrounding lakes and streams. Every summer he and his family would spend a week or two in a log cabin at one of the various small lodges that dotted the area. By the time I made my first trip in I think 1956 they knew the area well and were friends with many of the local residents and merchants.

There was a sawmill near the center of town and they burned the sawdust in a large cone like affair and the sweet smell of woodsmoke permeated there area for miles around. . We always knew we were close to town when we could smell the smoke. I can still smell it and even now the smell of sawdust and woodsmoke takes me back there.

My father was not much of a fisherman so it fell to my grandfather to teach us to fish. Daddo was a fly fisherman but he knew the value of live bait; and that worms, cane poles, and boys go together. He taught me how to dig for worms in the soft ground behind the lodge. No store bought worms for us! He would place my brother and I on the bank of the river with the admonition NEVER to enter the water or we would surely drown. And we never did. Later when I became a fly fisherman he would caution us to stay out of deep water as we could easily slip, our waders fill up with water and you guessed it, we would drown. I did not fall in until I was in my forties, and surprisingly did not drown but floated nicely down the river. But I digress. My brother did not take to the fishing but I was hooked and would spend hours on the bank. Later, my grand father bought me my first rod with a push button spinning reel, a Zebco 66 and I could cover far more of the river..... I was always on that riverbank. We went to Colorado almost every year through age 15.

You remember that movie "A River Runs Through It" with Brad Pitt. The scenes on the river uniquely capture what its like to be a trout fisherman, to be one with river. Look, not to get metaphysical or anything, but fishing is NOT about catching fish, It is about hope and faith and connections to another world. If you are lucky you eventually learn to become one with the water, and to get "fishy". To learn to read the water, to sense where the trout would be and eventually to catch some. When I first hit the water, I couldn't catch anything. I had to let go of all my eagerness, all of my anxiety, I had to slow down, to wade the water carefully, slowly quietly. To focus my complete attention on the water in the anticipation and intimation of what lies beneath. I did not know it then but I do now that fishing was my initiation into meditation and mindfulness. To unify the mind, the body, and the river and the moment towards one simple goal. To fish and fish well.

The town is changed now, there is no more burning saw dust and it has lost its rustic nature. It is has become a vacation town with upscale homes and a chinese restaurant and yet the river remains the same. There are places on the Rio Grand at South Fork that I have fished since I was 7 yrs old. When I wade the river, I meet boulders that are old friends, that I have know for over 30 yrs. I may have been gone for 3 yrs, 5 yrs, and now 10 yrs but when I return the river is still there , the rocks are still there and the fish are still there...and I am still there. It is home to me, the one unifying place in my life.

Everytime I drive towards Southfork an anticipation builds. I start into the mountains at Walsenburg, Colorado, and hit the high country plains at Ft Garland. I cross the plains to Monte Vista and I suddenly find myself doing 80 MPH, My heart starts to pound and a pressure builds in my chest. There is no woodsmoke smell to call to me now, but I can still smell it. Old landmarks rise up and pass by; new landmarks are noted. I first cross the Rio Grande at Alamosa and see it intermittantly off the right hand side of highway 160. It finally becomes my constant compainion just west of Del Norte, And then I hit the Railroad tracks that mark my favorite place on the river just out side of South Fork and then I am home.

Birding

What about birding you ask? Good question.

When I went into treatment for alcoholism in February of 2003 I was off work for 6 months. I spent many hours working on my recovery and in Alcoholics Anonymous. But I found I needed something else. In recovery I realized that I had lost connection to the world and that while I needed to reconnect with people, friends and family, I also needed to reconnect with the world itself. And this involved, as Thich Naht Hahn states so eloquently, developing a sense of "deep looking"

For me "deep looking" involves not just seeing but also hearing and feeling as well. It is an attempt to discern the authentic reality of the world at that very moment of observation. But it is more than that. it is for me an attempt to become one with the world.

more to follow

God

Of necessity and purpose this blog will speak clearly about "god".

I have no preconceived notions of god and when I speak of god

I do so in the broadest and most general of terms.

I am not in anyway promoting or criticizing any ones perception

or any religion's conception of god.

I speak only of the spiritual power that is greater than ourselves.

How one defines that power is a purely personal choice.

It is yours and yours alone.

I only ask that the reader to acknowlege the possibility that such spirituality exists in the world.

It exists for me and my ultimate acceptance and recognition of that spirituality

has made all the difference.

It changed my life

It gave and gives me purpose

And hopefully it will allow me to live a life of meaning for whatever time I have left on this earth

Peace

Phillip

Touch

I have been thinking a lot about touch. Touch is one of the 5 primary senses, It is our physical connection to our environment. We touch not only with our hands but also with almost every surface of our body. (the only thing I can think of that doesn't have superficial nerve endings is our teeth). Touch provides us one of our most important connections to the world, it tells us about texture, density, and so much more.

But, what I am interested in exploring is our need psychologically and spiritually to touch and be touched.

When I was younger, much much younger, I use to talk about the "The warm body principle"; which means 2 warm bodies would rather be together than apart. And that line occasionally worked! But even that is a learned response. When I first started to sleep with others as a young man I couldn't sleep. The presence of the other person(a woman) was disconcerting and I couldn't sleep. Now, after 2 marriages over 25 yrs, I do not like to sleep alone. I need the presence of someone else to truly relax and let go.

After I was divorced the last time, I went a long time alone and I became increasingly lonely so much so I welcomed my cats when they occasionally slept on the bed with me. The occasional hug at work was a blessing.

When I was younger the psychological need for touch was primarily associated with sex, it was about taking much more than giving. But in my work I was also learning about therapeutic touch; the power of touch to comfort and heal in a non sexual way. The giving aspect of touch. They actually did studies on therapeutic touch but the results were inconclusive. This may be true for physical ailments but I think that therapeutic touch may be helpful in some psychological problems though I have no data to support this notion.

Since I entered recovery I have rediscovered touch, particularly non-sexual touch. It was initially about shaking hands and hugs both with men and women. I learned how reconnecting with others was important. It felt great particularly early on in my recovery to shake hands, to give hugs, to get hugs as I was also recovering from the desperate loneliness of active alcoholism. Incredibly, that was almost 5 years ago.

Touch is one of the many ways we connect to each other both physically and spiritually. I think it is also something we need on a regular basis, like air and water. I know that that is true for me. And it is not just about receiving but it is also about giving. Early on in recovery I would force myself, when feeling low, to get up before the meeting and shake the hands of people coming in and give hugs to those who wanted them. I remembered how important it felt to me to be greeted and welcomed when I entered a meeting room and I wanted, needed, to give back as it lifted my spirits as I hope it did theirs.

I am also learning how touch connects me to the people I love. I am talking about non-sexual touching. I am talking about touching that comforts, and connects us to others and expresses to them in non-verbal ways how much they mean to us and how important they are.

As I intimated in a previous blog, I find god in the connections we have to each other and that each of us contains a spark of "the god within". Those connections are both spiritual and physical. When we touch to comfort, to be comforted, to reassure, to be reassured, to express love and to receive it in return we are "touching" god.

So today, reach out, touch someone, Spend some time touching the one you love. Try to transmit to them through touch how important they are to you and how much you care for them. Let your fingers do the talking.

Peace Phillip

Purpose

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

from T.S. Elliot "The four quatrains" from part 4 "the little gidding.

I have, and perhaps you do as well, continued life's journey in a search for meaning. Looking for truth, and purpose in the present and perhaps the future. But I have learned as TS Eliot so eloquently states is that we are really looking to explain and understand and find meaning in our pasts. To know it, to truly understand it for the first time.

And in that understanding ( or lack of same) we find a deeper truth.

Whether we "know" it or not, we cannot change where we started. We cannot change the past.

Which brings us back to the present.

And in our new knowledge "All shall be well and all manner of things shall be well"

Particularly if we can merge the fire of our past with the rose of our present.

..into one