Reading The China Study by T. Colin Campbell, PhD

The China Study by T. Colin Campbell, PhD. and Thomas M. Campbell II. This book is giving the evidence, solid scientific studies performed over many years, that demonstrate the connection between eating animal-sourced foods and cancer, heart disease and strokes, diabetes and obesity. [So far.] If you had given me this book three or four years ago, even if I read it, I would have said, "Boooring." I would probably have either discounted the evidence or thought, "Oh, well, that's okay for people who can eat that way [plant-based whole foods] but, poor me."

I have spent the last three years initially changing to more natural foods and whole grains, then attempting to change to a vegetarian diet, which has given me a basis to build on. My mind is like that. I have to assimilate information and apply it slowly. Any lifestyle change with me is complicated by my emotional attachment to food and the process of eating and the way it affects my mood. Perhaps I'm more ready for enlightenment from praying in the Shrines. But for whatever reason, the light has turned on for me. Oddly, once I get it, change can happen rapidly.

My initial reaction to listening to a brief discourse on this subject on April 21st was, "Oh, no! I can't change!" But in my heart I just knew that whether I felt ready or not emotionally, if I am to live the way I want to, I must change.

To quote the author of The China Study, "Yes, changing your lifestyle may seem impractical. It may seem impractical to give up meat and high-fat foods, but I wonder how practical it is to be 350 pounds and have Type II diabetes at the age of fifteen . . . I wonder how practical it is to have a lifelong condition that can't be cured by drugs or surgery; a condition that often leads to heart disease, stroke, blindness, or amputation; a condition that might require you to inject insulin into your body every day for the rest of your life.

"Radically changing our diets may be 'impractical,' but it might also be worth it."

This is the conclusion I have come to. But I had to come to it on my own, hearing and then reading the evidence myself. If it had been forced onto me, I would have rejected it. In America, our lifestyle has become so warped and extreme, that to abandon animal-sourced foods seems extreme. In other parts of the world, and at other times, this would fall well within the bounds of moderation.

I want to share this book with all my friends, with Homeland's medical director. I want to open a nursing home for people which serves a whole foods, plant-based diet [but not if it means any work.] I want to run out and save the world.

A Day With My Daughter

I spent the day, a Holy Day, with my daughter. Last night she was soaking the beans I gave her; today I showed her how to get them cooking on low, while we spent an hour with her practicing handling the car, driving around and around a housing development. Then I drove to Trader Joe's hoping to find some good protein sources. In Asian restaurants they have pre-sauteed tofu. They did have baked tofu at Trader Joe's. And some papaya mango salsa, and Pearl selected an orchid for me for Mother's Day.

At home again I showed her how to make the quesadillas I'd been making with corn tortillas: because the tortillas are brittle, it's necessary to make them like tostadas and fold them over when you put them on the plate; after they cook they become flexible. We used her cooked beans, the salsa, and some of the pound of Colby I bought just before I turned the corner and resolved not to eat animal products. She had them with cheese, I'm having them without. And not feeling sorry for myself, either!

My copy of "The China Study" just arrived last night and I'm at least a third of the way through it. I love the way it doesn't preach, nor does it whine about all the poor dead animals we kill every day. It just gives the facts.

Off soon to celebrate the Ninth Day of Ridvan in Northeast Tacoma again, and I hope Jay and Kristina are there so we can talk more. I can use some classes, although getting together with Kristina might be problematical. And I arranged to drive with Pearl about an hour most days until she has her six hours driving time homework done. And I sent away for an owner's manual for her car.

Hobbling Along the Vegan Trail

Well, vegan or even vegetarian eating for me can't be piecemeal. I can't be sorta vegan. I have to go whole hog, in a manner of speaking. The reason I say this is that in my life I have spent years flirting with changes, but ending up with the same habits I started with. If you're fairly healthy, you have a lot of room to play. I can see some signs that my time for that is up. It's because of the way my mind works. People addicted to substances know what I'm talking about. That little voice. Let me tell you, every hamburger I've eaten in the last two years was the last hamburger. This will not work for me.

This is amazing. I'm finally making up my own mind how to live, after a lifetime of allowing other people to tell me. I mean, they can talk, but it's just them talking. The clarity I'm feeling right now is astonishing. It really doesn't matter what other people think. They're not in my shoes. I'm not sitting here telling anyone else what or how to eat. Just myself. Once you recognize the truth, that's it. Clarity.

I have to cling to my decision, though. There are going to be a lot of temptations to eat things my mind knows better than to eat. Old habits die hard. 'Abdu'l-Baha once said, "When a thought of war comes, oppose it with a stronger thought of peace." When a thought of my daughter's leftover Hamburger Helper, seen in the kitchen after work, comes, I have to oppose it with a stronger thought of healthy eating. I'm having to pray and pray and pray some more about my decision to stop eating animal products, because of my habit of making exceptions all the time. This time, for my mental and physical health, it's necessary to be extremely strict.

Today for the first time I went to the Vegan restaurant, Quickie Too, a real anomaly and, as far as I know, the only Vegan restaurant in Tacoma. In the heart of the Hilltop area of Tacoma, with plenty of diversity and also rich in African American culture, is a wonderful restaurant owned and run by African Americans. So in walks this Wonder Bread girl, and I'm met by an elderly gentleman with dreadlocks and a colorful crocheted cap who hobbles out with a menu.

What choices! Every entree has a multitude of choices of preparation. So I eat a delicious Seitan Submarine sandwich with a flavorful side of rice and beans, a white linen napkin in my lap, the walls lined with Bob Marley posters and Bob Marley [I presume] playing. Too bad I had to hurry up and leave for work, ending up ten minutes late. Boy can these folks cook!

A Fate Worse Than Death

I've always thought that somewhere out there is a Mack truck with my name on it. But then I figured out that since my name is not Mack, I'm probably all right.

The other day we celebrated the First Day of Ridvan with our friends Jay and Kristina. Jay is a physician and Kristina teaches nutrition. In the last few months, I guess, they have adopted the Vegan style of eating: no foods which come from animal sources. A terrible thing happened to me when I listened to them--I came to recognize that nutritionally, no good comes from eating foods whose source is animals. Not just meat and fish, but dairy products. My mind says, Yes! My emotions say, Help!

I just knew this is the truth.

Lately I've come to realize that there is a truck headed straight for me, whether it hits tomorrow or in twenty years: the name on this truck is Heart Attack or Stroke. The way my diet has been all my life, this is a fact. I see people stricken this way every day.

A heart attack or stroke is okay if it kills me. But it won't kill me. It will ravage my life. It will steal my ability to swallow thin liquids without breathing them, or to eat foods with a normal texture [see how I zero in on the important thing, food?] It will rob me of my sight, my memory, my mobility.

The comfort foods I am attached to seem to all involve cheese, butter, meat, eggs, and sugar. That animal fat and low-density cholesterol isn't comforting, it's scary. Nevertheless, I'm terrified to cross that line. I'm abandoning my food friends.

Kristina says that it's easier for people to change their religion than to change their diet.

I'm becoming a Pagan Vegan.

My fear is that I will not be able to find anything to eat. It feels like jumping off a cliff. It feels like wandering out into the wilderness with no provisions. Wandering out into the wilderness to fight dragons with several weird, short bearded guys in hoods, and forgetting my pocket handkerchief. No, wait, that's that other story.

Wish me luck. And health. Pray for me.

One Bang

I took my daughter for a driving lesson today, drive time with a trained, and brave, professional. On the way home we passed a school playground with small boys and large inflatable balls. I started laughing.

"Remember the time we walked to the local playground with a new ball? I kicked the ball to you, and someone's dog, off the leash, ran and snapped it, growff, and it exploded in a bang. One kick, one dog, and that was it."

The Top of My Head

"The limbs of my body testify to Thy unity, and the hair of my head declareth the power of Thy sovereignty and might."

~Baha'u'llah, Copyright Baha'i Publishing Trust

Whatever the hair of my head declareth, I can never trust what comes off the top of my head in terms of facts, especially when I am blogging and my enthusiasm outruns my fact-checking. What can I say? The level of accuracy in this blog has become deplorable. What I need is a disclaimer to have the reader always look up whatever quotation or fact that I cite.

Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life, and no one cometh unto the Father except by me."

Baha'u'llah declared His mission publicly in 1863.

And my forehead is becoming dented by dint of my striking it whenever I discover my errors.

Perhaps when my friend George returns from Pilgrimage he can help me tune up my blog and add a disclaimer.

Frog Holy Days

Happy First Day of Ridvan.

Early this morning I took my daughter Pearl to her driving test appointment, where she learned what to work on next. Later I signed her up for more driving instruction time. I'm thinking, lots more. Then I took her to breakfast where we ate things that tasted good but will probably give my gall bladder and pancreas, not to mention my arteries, things to talk about for awhile.

Pearl is clearly feeling better. Her husband Charles has brought her frog back over, which he took along when he moved out. Perhaps he thought that in her depressed state she might not take care of it. I said that they may not have custody of children to work out, but just frog custody. She talked about the visiting parenting plan and what holidays the frog might have to share with the parents. I said, "what are holy days for a frog?" She said, just as quick as that, "Good Flyday."

Later, just in time for a nap but not getting one, I drove up to Northeast Tacoma, a thirty to forty-five minute detour across the tideflats to a portion of Tacoma annexed to it, but in no way physically connected. Our friends Jay and Kristina hosted a celebration of The First Day of Ridvan, an event celebrating the time period when Baha'u'llah was about to leave Baghdad under exile to Constantinople, and accomplished two things: he gave all his followers and townspeople time to say their farewells, and he announced publicly for the first time his station as a Manifestation of God for this day, the Founder of a new faith, the Baha'i Faith.

Baha'u'llah spent 12 days in April, 1853 [what passes for April in the Muslim calendar] on an island in the river, a garden he named "Paradise," or Ridvan, where the roses from adoring friends piled up and the nightingales sang all night. We had some music, prayers and chanting, and some history of that time read. It was enchanting.

Kristina teaches nutrition, and she and her husband are "experimenting" with a vegan diet; she referred me to a book named "The China Study." Intellectually I agree, but emotionally I still feel tied to meat and dairy products. I never ate so many hamburgers in one year as when I tried to break away from meat. But wouldn't it be nice to be free of this compulsion? Free to eat completely healthy food all the time?

The nightingales of Eatonville on the muddy shores of Lake Ohop: a frog chorus. They sound good.

The True Station of Christ, Part Five

So, "I go, and another will come." Inconceivable there should be another perfect mirror, another bearing the Message of God, another Messenger of God. Another human with a divine station, one who makes the qualities and attributes of God visible and understandable to the rest of us, who makes the light and truth of God manifest. A Manifestation of God. Inconceivable. But, there it is.

"I go, and another will come." "He will come with a new name." Absolutely incontrovertable. [If only I could spell!] Irrefutable. Christ Himself said it.

Suppose, therefore, that during the eons of human history, revealed in different ages, there is not just one Christ, one perfect Mirror, but several. Suppose, as Baha'u'llah put it in "The Book of Certitude, [copyright Baha'i Publishing Trust"]:

"Inasmuch as these Birds of the Celestial Throne are all sent down from the heaven of the Will of God, and as they all arise to proclaim His irresistible Faith, they therefore are regarded as one soul and the same person. For they all drink from the one Cup of the love of God, and all partake of the fruit of the same Tree of Oneness. These Manifestations of God have each a twofold station. One is the station of pure abstraction and essential unity. In this respect, if thou calleth them all by one name, and dost ascribe to them the same attribute, thou hast not erred from the truth . . for they one and all summon the people of the earth to acknowledge the Unity of God . . . "

"If thou wilt observe with discriminating eyes, thou wilt behold them all abiding in the same tabernacle, soaring in the same heaven, seated upon the same throne, uttering the same speech, and proclaiming the same Faith. Such is the unity of those Essences of being, those Luminaries of infinite and immeasurable splendour. [ibid.]"

Many Mirrors. One Light. One Way. One Truth. One Life. One God, and many Manifestations.

The True Station of Christ, Part Four

And not only did I get the quote wrong once, but twice, as Christ said "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life!"

Fortunately, it isn't Arlene, the Blogger, that we trust: it is God that we trust! The rest of us are mere mortals, always subject to error. Fortunately, the Word of God is always there for anyone to read for themselves. Whoever has an eye, let him see; whoever has an ear, let him hear. That is why the principle of individual investigation of truth is taught.

The True Station of Christ, Part Three

So for Christians, Jesus Christ has two stations: the human, "Jesus", the individual walking the rocky roads of Palestine over two thousand years ago, and the divine, "Christ", the spiritual mirror perfectly reflecting the attributes of God, the message of God: "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light, and no one cometh unto the Father except by Me." [Yes, I did mix up the quotation in the last blog entry: this is why it is usually wiser not to proceed from memory.]

So: is it inconceivable that the Holy Spirit should ever again be reflected in another perfect mirror? To people attached to the human, "Jesus," it is.

When Christ said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Light," who among us asks, "who is the 'I' that is speaking? Is it really Jesus, the man? The Aramaic-speaking, dusty traveler?" After all, Jesus Christ made the ultimate sacrifice, His life, that the message of Christ could illuminate the world with God's Holy light.

Who is the speaker? Jesus or Christ? The human individual, or the Divine Messenger?

Christ Himself tells us that the Holy Spirit could again be reflected in another perfect mirror. "I go, and another will come."

Baha'u'llah says that another will come. And another and another and another. And praise God for that.

The True Station of Christ, Part Two

Just as I mentioned a few months ago that in life everything has an inward and an outward reality, Jesus Christ really has two stations: the human, and the divine.

Just as I gave the example several months ago: On the last Thursday of November, in the United States, I can eat a meal of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, and finish with pumpkin pie; that does not mean I just experienced "Thanksgiving." It is Thanksgiving if I eat with gratitude and in the fellowship of my friends and family, remembering the sacrifice of the early European pilgrims to this continent and the assistence of and their reliance on the Indian natives who helped them to survive; with whom they gathered in a meal of unity and fellowship.

The human station of Jesus Christ really is that of the individual, Jesus. This is the man that walked the dusty, rocky roads of Palestine, sleeping on the ground, the man who had his individual name, "Jesus"; who lived in a certain time, spoke a certain language [Aramaic], dressed according to the times, had certain racial characteristics and facial features, ate certain foods, and lived among a certain people. Baha'u'llah says, ["Book of Certitude" copyright Baha'i Publishing Trust]:

"Thus Jesus, Son of Mary, whilst seated one day and speaking in the strain of the Holy Spirit, uttered words such as these: 'O people! My food is the grass of the field, wherewith I satisfy my hunger. My bed is the dust, my lamp in the night the light of the moon, and my steed my own feet. Behold, who on earth is richer than I?' By the righteousness of God! Thousands of treasures circle around this poverty, and a myriad kindoms of glory yearn for such abasement! Shouldst thou attain to a drop of the ocean of the inner meaning of these words, thou wouldst surely forsake the world and all that is therein . . ."

But even this quotation shares a glimpse of the other station of Christ, the divine.

Viewed in the light of Jesus' human station, "the station of distinction, differentiation, temporal limitations, characteristics and standards," Jesus would manifest "utter destitution absolute servitude, and complete self-effacement. Even as He saith: 'I am the servant of God. I am but a man like you.' "

However, were Christ, the divine station of Jesus Christ, to declare: " 'I am God!' He verily speaketh the truth, and no doubt attacheth thereto."

So what, for the Christian believer, makes the difference? Jesus was the individual: Christ is a perfect mirror, reflecting the Holy Spirit, the words of God for humanity, revealing the Revelation of God, connecting the heart of the believer with her true beloved, God.

Again, great news for Christians: for people who are not Christians, hang on!

The True Station of Christ, Part One

The theme of inward reality versus outward reality is no more profound than when we look at the true station of the Manifestations of God.

The following quotations on this subject are from the writings of Baha'u'llah, from "The Book of Certitude", i.e. "The Kitab-i-Iqan,", copyright Baha'i Publishing Trust.

Baha'u'llah points out that what we describe as "God" is really an Unknowable Essence, and, as the Creator, cannot be directly perceived nor directly understood by humans, who are created by God. I grew up as a very critical thinker, and had a hard time believing in God: my senses could not directly perceive God. Any "God" I could think of, would just be a product of my imagination, and bound by its limitations. Thus,

"These Prophets and chosen Ones of God are the recipients and revealers of all the unchangeable attributes and names of God . . . The knowledge of Him, Who is the Origin of all things, and attainment unto Him, are impossible save through knowledge of, and attainment unto, these luminous Beings who proceed from the Sun of Truth . . . From their knowledge, the knowledge of God is revealed, and from the light of their countenance, the splendour of the Face of God is made manifest."

This is why Christ said, "I am the Way, the Light, and the Truth, and no one cometh unto the Father except by Me."

If you are a Christian, this is encouraging news indeed. If you are not, bear with this discourse for another couple of posts, for things will be looking up.

Changes

After about six months and over one hundred posts I got heartily sick of the brown wallpaper look of my blog and chose another template for the look. I hope the change is not too jarring. I tried to lighten it up a bit. I also tried to keep enough contrast between the background and the lettering to keep the posts legible. If this is too hard to read for anyone, just yell.

The Mushroom Nurse

Yesterday, bearing in mind that staff at Homeland are still actively restricted from any overtime hours, I gave away over an hour at the beginning of the shift to a meeting. Coming out of that, I briefly got my ducks in a row and took report from the day charge nurse in the Solarium. Then I gave some attention to Dr. Wildman, here to see a new admission from the other day; a resident who, since he persists in removing his WoundVac negative pressure dressing, was reasonably deemed to no longer need it.

Meanwhile I set up to receive an admission later on, noting the orders, arguing on the phone with the Pharmacy to send the IV antibiotics and a pump sooner than oh-dark-thirty--the Pharmacy claiming that this specialized medicine designed to combat multiple-drug-resistant bacteria, which was going to be running directly into the Superior Vena Cava of the heart, could be administered just fine with a primitive device called a Dial-a-flow, in the absence of a pump. A position with which I disagree, but the Pharmacy pretty much holds all the cards.

So I was noting orders for the new admission expected about 5 PM, hoping he got to Homeland while the very excellent treatment nurse was there to assist with the skin check, and giving my attention also to Dr. Demure who needed to see two people and their medication records. I was also receiving the facility's phone calls while the receptionist gave a tour.

Fast-forward two hours. Up to the desk comes the daughter of Mrs. Dunnfore, who was admitted about two months ago with severe liver failure, the color of a spaghetti squash and never very lively, and on Hospice care; now persistently dying for the last two weeks and the color of a pumpkin. Mrs. Dunnfore's daughter, out of the blue, calmly informs me that she has just called the mortuary for her mother. My jaw drops.

It turns out that this resident, at the very time I was receiving report from the day charge nurse, who confidently reported on her oxygen saturation, vital signs and so forth, was actually dying at that moment. I never got around to doing rounds. In two hours, not one person had informed me that Mrs. Dunnfore had expired: not the treatment nurse, who was there; not the Hospice nurse, who was there; not the medication nurse, who knew; not the two CNA's from my shift who prepared the remains for the mortuary after her passing. Each person had assumed that I knew.

So I was expecting the new admission to come in on one gurney, and the mortician to come in with another, and hoping like heck the two gurneys did not get mixed up.

Mushroom Nurse: kept in the dark and fed "nonsense".

Moral: always do your rounds first, no matter what.

Light and Mercy, Part Four

Yesterday it rained and hailed. Driving from Tacoma to Eatonville after a very involved day with my daughter and fixing her car, in the middle of the rain and hail, there was a sunbreak.

A rainbow!

Fire and Vengeance, Light and Mercy, Part Three

Baha'u'llah teaches that tests and difficulties are a gift from God, designed to further our spiritual growth in a most efficient manner, and to teach us what we most need and desire to learn as fundamentally spiritual beings. It takes a lot of trust to believe that we will be taken care of, even as the maelstrom of tests swirl around us.

Baha'u'llah, as the Founder of a new Faith in the 1800's in Iran, was not a popular figure with either the Shah of Iran or with the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. Between them, with encouragement from many enemies of the Faith, they conspired to imprison Baha'u'llah and exile Him and His family from Tehran, to Baghdad, to Adrianople [Edirne] and to Akka, near Haifa, Palestine. This treatment engendered an enormous amount of suffering over a forty-year period.

At one time Baha'u'llah revealed a long and intense prayer named the "Fire Tablet." There are multiple layers of meaning, inner and outer meanings, in everything Baha'u'llah reveals. He writes,

"In the Name of God, the Most Ancient, the Most Great.
"Indeed the hearts of the sincere are consumed in the fire of separation: Where is the gleaming of the light of Thy Countenance, O Beloved of the worlds? . . . Where is the shining of the Morn of Thy reunion, O Desire of the Worlds?" *

After a long and beautiful series of verses, God answers Baha'u'llah:
"Were it not for the cold, how would the heat of Thy words prevail, O Expounder of the worlds?"
"Were it not for calamity, how would the sun of Thy patience shine, O Light of the worlds?" . . .
"by Thy banishment the land of Unity was adorned. Be patient, O Thou Exile of the worlds." *

Then Baha'u'llah responds:
"When the swords flash, go forward! When the shafts fly, press onward! O Thou Sacrifice of the Worlds." * and,

"Verily I have heard Thy Call, O All-Glorious Beloved; and now is the face of Baha flaming with the heat of tribulation and with the fire of Thy shining word, and He hath risen up in faithfulness . . ." *

And we wonder if we are loved! But this is what we must do: rise up in the midst of our difficulties, and turn to God.


*All quotes copyright by the Baha'i Publishing Trust.

Light and Fire: Mercy and Vengeance, Part Two

Baha'u'llah teaches that, not only does life have both an inward and outward reality, a material and a spiritual reality, but this is also true of what we often call tests in our lives. Baha'u'llah writes, speaking for God:

"O Son of Man! My calamity is My providence, outwardly it is fire and vengeance, but inwardly it is light and mercy. Hasten thereunto that thou mayest become an eternal light and an immortal spirit. This is My command unto thee, do thou observe it."

When I was on Pilgrimage, on the bus approaching the Holy Shrine of Baha'u'llah [called Bahji, the place where He lived the last years of His life and where His remains were interred], I felt as if all my faults were magnified as if by a giant magnifying glass. Approaching the Shrine on foot, crunching on gravel made from roof tiles, my greatest wish was to have all my faults incinerated. This was my prayer. As Baha'u'llah also says, to die to this world that I may live in God, live in the world of the spirit. I had the feeling: God is everything, and I am nothing.

In this materialistic day, the day of Self Esteem and Doing Your Own Thing, this is not always a popular sentiment. In "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," Terry Gilliam's animated "God" says, "Oh, stop grovelling! If there's anything I hate, it's people grovelling!" I appreciate the humor, and it is no doubt freeing. On the other hand, God is bigger than us, and there is no getting around that fact. To approach God, if we choose to do so, takes humility.

This dying to the self is what Christians call being born again, that is, born to the world of the spirit. In my rebellious persona, I always wanted to say, "What? Didn't it take the first time?" This spirit of humility is Submission to the Will of God. "Islam" means surrender to the Will of God. Baha'u'llah teaches that Christ and Muhammad, the Bab and Baha'u'llah are all one Spirit, each a reflection of One Essence. That subject is for another day, however.

Anyway, I didn't know what I was asking in that prayer, to allow all my faults to be incinerated. It has meant the deconstruction of many of the components of the life I was building. I often wonder where all this craziness is leading. I guess inquiring minds will just have to wonder!

Fire and Light: Vengeance and Mercy, Part One

I like to focus on two basic themes in Weaner Pigs: inward versus outward reality, and my journey as a Baha'i. Lately I've written a lot about the various crises I'm experiencing in what seems to be a crossroads in my life. In 2005 I was divorced after 29 years marriage with a person not enrolled in nor interested in the Baha'i Faith.

That year I lost my marriage, lost my job, and my father was moved to Tacoma into a dementia unit and later died. I took the course, "Clara Dunn Academy", which is very intense. I also hooked up with a friend from my childhood who convinced me he was the love of my life, even though he is an atheist, bipolar, alcoholic and suicidal. [Thank God that is over!] The same year, my cat died, taken apart by pit bulls. Also, my daughter was married and I sold my house and bought a new one together with my daughter and son-in-law, who were in college.

This year I'm in my second year of marriage [I think; actually, I've lost track!] to the actual love of my life; I'm in my second Charge Nurse job since I lost my job at Gentiva, my daughter attempted suicide in January, we went on Pilgrimage in February, my daughter's marriage just broke up, the economy has tanked, and I now hold two interest-only loans worth more than the current value of our house. Whee!

Sometimes I think, not only am I on a crossroads, I'm in the crosshairs.

People sometimes wonder that I just keep on going, in the middle of this maelstrom. I couldn't do it without prayer, the love and support of my friends and family, and the knowledge that there really is no alternative. And also the knowledge that tests come from two main sources: my choices, and God.

Compulsive Computing

I took my daughter to the library today, where she goes online. I've forbidden her to use my computer, because I believe she has become compulsive in her online activities, and not all of them have been savory, by my standards. But I figured if she has the gumption to go to the library, at least she is getting out of the house, and go for it.

Driving around to find this particular library on her bus route took some time; then I needed to deposit a check, then I stopped at Subway for a sandwich then and one for work. Just had time to turn around, put on a uniform coat over my clothes and go out the door. I usually take my computer along and lock it in my car, where I have to hide it to keep it from being stolen. I didn't have time today.

So, I created a test. Like one of those cheesy suspense novels where the hero puts a hair across the door to see if someone breaks in. When I came home, I could easily see the test had been failed. Not only that, but my online connections were all fouled up. Now, I'm starting to get resentful. So I emailed my daughter to let her know that my computer is off limits, and why; that I am disappointed but not surprised, and that my online connections were messed up.

I guess it's back to locking up my computer when I'm not here. Martyred sigh. ; >

Tatting, Teaching, and Light-filled Beings

We arrived at our friends George and Bonita's front porch at 7 PM sharp for the Thursday evening Devotional Meeting, even having taken a few minutes to drive around Robin Hood's Barn finding a gas station so I wouldn't have to gas up later in the dark. No George or Bonita, no van with the colorful wildlife stickers. Since I had neglected to call first, I wasn't disturbed. We agreed to eat dinner at one of our favorite dives, "Greek To Me" near Wright Park, which Enayat always translates into "Greek In Us", and stop by later.

Watching the exquisite sunset out the glass door and windows, and halfway through a Greek Garden pizza, I realized that since George phoned me on Sunday, I had his number on my phone. It turns out Baha'i Feast was tonight, in Tacoma, anyway. Out in Spanaway Feast was last night, when I was working, so I figured I had missed it.

Having blessed George and Bonita on their upcoming Pilgrimage, Enayat having finished the pizza and now heavily engaged in the heavenly green beans, I pulled out my tatting. There was another diner nearby, a lone woman, one of these people who seems light-filled. She asked about the tatting [and knew what it was] and we had a lovely conversation about her teaching work in this region, her having lived in Scotland, Turkey, and Greece, and her planting an organic garden in front of her house to help feed her neighbors. We talked about Iran, Sobhani Meditation, and mentioned the Baha'i Faith, though not in detail. We have her contact information, and a place to start to build a new friendship.

I guess that's where we were meant to be tonight.

God's Surgery

I'm sorry for the negative content today, but I'm devastated. My son-in-law moved out; today he enlisted help from his family and moved out his turtle, with the 50 gallon tank. I'll miss watching Mr. Turtle basking in the pretend sun. He took their dining room table the other day. The breaking up of a marriage, like the splitting of chemical bonds, releases a lot of energy, even if it's not expressed in anger, yelling or screaming. It's hard to just bear the grief. Today I avoided his mother: too much to say, and I didn't want to listen.

At the same time, it's time to habilitate my daughter. I'd say, rehabilitate, but I don't think she was ever habilitated to start with [thanks, H. Stephen Glenn for the term and the concept.] My shy but incredibly talented daughter was allowed as a teenager to spend hours online playing on sites such as Neopets and Gaia, which are innocent enough. [ According to her husband, there are some much less healthy activities available online.] Anyway, it's time for her to break out of fantasy land and learn to deal in the real world.

We actually had a real conversation last night. She asked for permission to use my computer, as her internet access has "mysteriously" been cut off. I'm actually taking my laptop with me when I go out of the house, to help break the Internet habit. But already she's starting to look a little more focused. We need to dialogue more, and come to some agreements. She needs to participate in life here. Do chores. My soon to be ex-son-in-law: "Good luck!"

I slept, trying to get over whatever Aphus of the Glaphus I've got; woke in time for midnight prayers. Realized I'm always clinging to my job, clinging to things as I want them to be. God seems to be cleaving me from those attachments, and I need to be attached to God, instead. With God's knife separating my heart from my life, I'm glad He is a better surgeon than I am.

That Foreigner

I stayed home from work today with a fever and headache. The rules have changed at work, due to Medicaid cuts plus chronically low census: no overtime. I work like fury until 11 PM and drop the work in its tracks and clock out.

Last night Homeland admitted a lovely lady from the Philippines, who speaks only Tagalog, although her family helps out with English. Since she has anxiety and dementia, as well as not speaking English, it will be challenging to meet her needs. One of the CNA's it turns out, speaks Tagalog, or she would not have taken her evening medications. Anyway, her arrival turned out to be deeply disturbing to her roommate, "Sally."

Sally came storming out of her room, "I'm not sleeping in that room with that foreigner!!" I said, "My grandparents were foreigners." She said, "My grandmother only spoke German, and we never let her out in public. We didn't let her out of the house. It's just how I was brought up." I swallowed my astonishment and introduced her to the lady's daughter. "Huh!" said Sally, striking the ground with her walker. She refused to even use the same bathroom and spent the evening in the TV room, angry and ranting.

My response to this was not very positive. I figured if she was unwilling to share a room with another human being who looks and speaks differently, that was her problem, and I would have let her stay up all night. The night nurse took pity on her, though, and was rigging her up with a different room as I clocked out, leaving my charting behind.

With these cutbacks, I keep saying prayers for protection. With two admits to do, and several family members to speak with, a few doctor's orders, and it took until almost 10 PM to finish the admissions, the time wasn't there to finish my Medicare charting. With administration adamant about no overtime, this is a no-win situation. All I can do is do my best, work as efficiently as I can, be as polite and assertive as I can, and pray.

Sobhani Folk Art

Sunday was blessed with meeting, not only with so many friends at the Devotional Meeting, but with our old friends Robert and Lynda Carpenter, and Elrico Evans and his daughter Tanika. Tanika is now eighteen; when they came into our community, and our hearts, she was about two, toddling around. Both families had moved out of Tacoma and we had lost touch for awhile. What a pleasure it is to have them near again.

We heard, in more detail than I remember before, the story of how they left Shiloh Baptist Church, a very strong and vibrant African American spiritual community. [They asked if I remember attending Shiloh once. I said, "Oh, you never forget a service at Shiloh!"] Both Robert and Elrico had been pastors there, and actually split from the church on philosophical &/or theological differences before they joined the community of Baha'is, thus enriching the cultural texture and knowledge base of our community immeasurably. Many pastors who do this give up their livelihoods, as there is no clergy in the Baha'i Faith.

In the midst of this study, caught up in the Holy Spirit, I saw Elrico digging into his backpack, and pulling out a prayer book to show me. To my pleasure and astonishment I saw the hand-sewn cover, which unmistakably I had created years in the past, and completely forgotten about. It was as if some stranger-Arlene had made this. [Soon I'll probably be hiding my own Easter eggs.]

On the cover with applique and machine embroidery I had made a figure facing away with arms upraised in a "Y" shape, as the initial letter of the phrase, "Ye are the angels." It is an example of what I was just getting into before my divorce; the concept of "illuminating" words, specifically, the Baha'i and related writings.

In the middle ages the monks hunched over the manuscripts they were lettering by hand, making the initial letters wondrous works of art, and surrounding the piece often with other art such as trailing leaves, and so forth. So I conceived the idea that this could be done with fabric, as I did with the Mountain of the Lord tapestry. The prayer book cover was also a very nice example of folk art.

My dream is to accomplish the impossible: to establish my company, Sobhani Folk Art, in the midst of the turmoil of my life, and at the height of my excruciatingly challenging career as a charge nurse. Inshallah.

"Ye are the angels if your feet be firm, your secret thoughts pure . . . "

William Sears Part 2

The meeting hall in Nelson, B.C. where William Sears was speaking was heated and packed. I only remember a couple of details of what he said. One was that he said, "Some of you may have told your family or friends you were coming to see a 'special Baha'i.' A Hand of the Cause is not 'special.' " Then he explained the role of service of that institution. It was as if he had been in my parents' house, listening to me explain to them my limited understanding of the Hands of the Cause of God. William Sears was always a humble soul.

On the blackboard he wrote a list of words; to the best of my recollection, "Service," "Steadfastness," and "Sacrifice." Below them, he wrote the word, "Saint." He said, "Service, steadfastness, and sacrifice. Without them, a saint"--erasing the S in front of each word with one swipe--"you AIN'T."

After the passing of the Guardian of the Cause in 1957, there will be no more Hands of the Cause of God appointed in this world. So it was explained to me the importance of meeting members of that institution while they were still around, not to put too fine a point on it. Everyone else in that crowded hall had the same idea. Being naturally a loner, when I saw the noisy throng surrounding William Sears I headed the other direction, out onto the porch, where it was blessedly quiet, cool and damp.

Suddenly I turned to see William Sears out there to greet me, shaking my hand. [Now I realize that probably someone told him, "hey, there's a new Baha'i out there."] Anyway, the fact that he came out there and sought me out to greet me, has always stayed in my heart.

William Sears' photograph was on a table at the front of the meeting hall this afternoon. Near the close of the meeting, a shaft of sunlight illuminated his picture and the flowers next to him. How appropriate.

William Sears, Part 1

This new Intensive Program of Growth starting with the Cluster Reflection Meeting in Tacoma this afternoon was dedicated to the memory of the Hand of the Cause of God William Sears. Wonderful music was played, readings from the Baha'i Writings were read, we had three short skits, and near the end, we met in groups to plan for teaching work organized by geographic area. This morning it was sunny and warm, and Enayat had some involved work he was trying to lead at the barn he is renovating, and it was hard to leave to spend the afternoon indoors. Yet, once we were there, I felt warmed by being with the Baha'is.

I remember the first year I found out what Baha'i love feels like. It was 1974/1975 and I was with the community in Pullman celebrating a holy day in the middle of the night. Candles were lit and people were singing Arabic words signifying "God is Most Glorious." I felt this warmth and closeness I'd never experienced quite that way before. This was the same year I met William Sears, Hand of the Cause of God.

I told my parents I was riding up to Canada with Baha'i friends to meet "a very special Baha'i," as I didn't fully understand the station of service of people appointed to this institution. I stayed overnight in Spokane to ride up with the Hoffs early in the morning to Nelson, B.C. [the town where the movie "Roxanne" was later filmed.] Toni Hoff, the Mama, mixed up egg salad for sandwiches in the car, and when we arrived in Nelson we stayed for a couple of hours in the home of some Baha'is, until it was time to attend the meeting.

The Teaching Song

Cluster Reflection Meeting tomorrow, ushering in a new Intensive Period of Growth in the Illustrious Cluster Nineteen. Leafing through my notebook the other day I came across where I had recorded my impromptu teaching song the last time I stood on the porch with the Prayer Team last summer, ushering out the teaching teams with prayer and songs, and drumming them back in with enrollment cards in their hands: new Baha'is who were not proseletyzed, or converted from one thing to another, but merely found; connected with their Lord at last.

The Teaching Song*

Ch: None have I sought, nor any will I seek save Thee,
No path have I trodden, nor any will I tread
But the path of Thy love.

1] There go my friends, they're heading out the door; There go my friends, they're teaching more and more.

2] There go my friends, they're teaching 'cross the lands; Here come my friends with signed cards in their hands.

3] Baha'u'llah says go out there and teach; If we do as He says, there's no goal we can't reach.

*Chorus quotes from a prayer by 'Abdu'l-Baha printed in the copyrighted "Baha'i Prayers," published by the US Publishing Trust.

One Day Off

Two late admissions at "Homeland" last night, one day off today and a charge nurse meeting at ten. Since I was awake, I decided to go. Turns out the bad news from government cuts in Medicare and Medicaid mean cuts in staff hours at Homeland. I now have permission to go home early. Which, on a quiet weekend, is sometimes a possibility. I went to Office Depot for a box of my favorite pens, then Ruby Tuesday for a salad, and back to Homeland to speak to the DNS with my ideas for cutbacks.

It turns out that giving one of my shifts [when I only have one day off by itself] to one of the Unit Managers probably won't work, as they're clear about not wanting to do Charge. I also thought that the night shift, which is traditionally thought of as kind of a finger-in-the-dike position, could do some other useful things such as some of the tasks from admissions and faxing routine labs to MDs. Faxing can be done any time as long as the receiving machine is on.

I also offered to donate a voice recorder; rather a silly gesture, but we'll see. Since at this place the report to incoming nurses is given in person, it would save time if the charge nurse is able to leave early, to record report for the oncoming nurse.

When I got home my daughter was up and making macaroni and cheese, so I took her out for fried ice cream. Last time I took her to dinner, she had wanted dessert, but there is never room for it. So this time we just had dessert. Charles wanted to talk with Pearl, then I took her out to Eatonville to see my sewing room, as she had helped in the initial stages of cleaning it out and sanding the floor last year. She was suitably impressed. We also had more of a chance to visit, and she agreed tentatively to take the driving test the next date we both have off work.

Now to nap, perchance to dream, wake, and drive to Eatonville.