A BIG BIRTHDAY APPROACHES

In this photo, I am obviously a little toddler.
I used to love talking on the phone - for many

years, actually - but in my old age, I would

rather pray.

I am turning 65 years old this week, and my thoughts naturally turn to a review of my life and of life in general, which is looking much more fraught with difficulties than I'd imagined for my golden years.

I am about 3 or 4 in this picture. I LOVED my rocking horse,

and I later became an expert horse woman.

~~~

At the same time, I have been watching an Amazon miniseries, The Man in the High Castle, and throughout this dystopian vision of an America that LOST World War II and became subservient to both the Germans and the Japanese, there are references to the casual, matter-of-fact incarceration and euthanasia of disabled people, which hits far too close to home for comfort, as you can imagine. In one scene, a surprisingly sympathetic Nazi chief is faced with his teenage son's sudden diagnosis of some wasting disease and the prescribed euthanasia he is expected to perform himself. The doctor is matter-of-fact about the whole thing. This is what one does to the disabled when the prejudices against people become institutionalized. It is a fearsome warning of the future.

I am 6  years old in this picture, hunting for Easter

Eggs at my Grandmother's house in Auburn. I think

we were staying with her while our parents fought

over their divorce.

~~~

You know why, of course! I was reminded of Donald Trump's very vocal prejudices and how he mocked the jerky motions of a disabled journalist, as well as the fat body of one of his supporters. Unattractive women are regularly disparaged and maligned with his filthy language. You will remember the clerk at Smith's Grocery Store on Constitution and Carlisle telling me that he "believes in Trump's law" and that, because I didn't have two arms cut off or two legs cut off, I wasn't really disabled and did not deserve to use my handicap placard. I had hoped that by the time I reached this distinguished old age, the world would have improved, but in Trump's transactional world view, America is a land where very few of us have any value.

I am somewhere between 7 and 9 in this photo.

~~~

Earlier this week, I saw a special edition of "Carpool Karaoke" with James Corden and special guest Paul McCartney, and I was struck, once again, by the love and positivity that radiated from all those old Beatles songs, and which characterized my world view when young. I had anticipated a better world, a kinder world. I thought that by the time I reached this age, the arc of the moral universe that Martin Luther King Jr. referenced would have bent a little bit closer to justice than it has. I remember when he was assassinated. It was an omen of times to come, apparently. Anyone who preaches radical love and forgiveness is the enemy of the powerful and wealthy.

My graduation picture. I was only 16, but

graduated high school a year early.

Note the peace sign around my neck!

I have always been committed to peace.

~~~

Just yesterday, an old man in a giant red truck deliberately smashed into the bumper of my car in a shocking display of parking lot rage. I had gotten into the drive-through line before he was even in the parking lot, but he evidently had his eye on that spot in line, so he rammed my car with his giant bumper and kept ramming it until I called the police. Here I was, a single old woman in a battered 23 year-old car with one window missing, and all kinds of religious bumper stickers on the back end. I was obviously harmless, which is likely the point. When the police officer asked me what the man looked like, I turned to see a short old man whose head barely came up over the dash board.

This was my prom picture. I think it was the junior

prom. I took my junior and senior classes in one year.

That was Chris, with his arm around my waist. (He

was a very nice young man. I always wondered what

happened to him.)

Yes, I had hoped for more progress on the peace front, but, instead, the monetization of people has gotten worse. Prejudice, bigotry, xenophobia and misogyny have grown worse. Cruelty abounds. Free floating rage is endemic.

My son was about 2 or 3 in this picture.

He died when he was 40 from a combination of things.

Diabetes, alcoholism, drug addiction.

Very sad.

~~~

Of course, Trump didn't start the monetization of people as commodities. He is just coarser and more blatant about it than others.  Human beings have long looked down on poor people, people of color, old people, the fat, the disabled and the frail. I have experienced considerable discrimination and cruelty as a large woman with big feet and eyeglasses. There was a continual drumbeat of insistence that I conform to the visual image that others wanted me to present so that I would please them. During my fat years I was tormented horribly. I was a bit thin between the ages of 16 and 24, but I STILL got comments from people that I would be pretty if I lost even more weight. Did they want me to disappear altogether? Maybe that is the point.

We like our women to waste away. We hobble them with high heels and ridiculous tight fashions that keep them bound up. In personality also, I noticed that the weak, passive,  female voice was preferred. No loud mouths, please! We want our women to be subservient. In movies, no matter how smart the woman, she always ends up weeping when the going gets tough - needing to be rescued because she is just so frail and tender. Then, when one is old and is REALLY frail and tender, the world has no use for us.

After the whole Nixon debacle, I was under the mistaken impression that our government was fine enough and good enough to eliminate any bad egg that might come along. I mistakenly thought that we were safe and that no president would dare to be so corrupt. The current occupant of the Oval Office is far worse than Nixon. Not only that, but the Republican Party has become infected with his love of power and is making his reign even worse. They enable him. It is horrifying. And I really didn't expect it.

This as taken about 1975 in San Francisco. I was with my

grandmother, and we were eating at my favorite restaurant.

~~~

My son was about 6 in the above picture. He and

I were meeting my father at a favorite restaurant

on Melrose Avenue in Hollywood.

~~~

The class structure that displaces so many categories of people is taken for granted by the privileged. For instance, when your birthday approaches, Facebook asks you what charity you would like your friends to support instead of sending you a present. People who don't have difficulty stocking the refrigerator probably welcome the opportunity to deflect unnecessary monies to those poor wretched people over there somewhere. It makes them feel good.

My friend, Richard Desiato, took a series of photos

for an anticipated foray into acting. I decided against

it, but the photos were grand.

~~~

The media and social platforms never speak to poor people. Forty million Americans are routinely ignored, not from some deliberate effort to exclude them but because the subconscious, underlying assumption is that they are not part of the audience. Only people with money constitute the audience. Why? Everything is monetized: poor people have no worth because all worth is determined by personal resources that may be useful to other people. Youth, beauty, wealth, power, connections - all have their perceived value. If you possess something that someone else may want, then you have value.

I was about 32 in this picture, enjoying the company of

my guru, Swami Swahananda. This was when I became

very serious about my spiritual journey and joined

the Vedanta Convent in Hollywood.

~~~

This picture was taken just before I joined the Hollywood

Vedanta Convent. My father was in the background, but

he is cut out of the photo.

~~~

Americans find many ways to discount the plight of the poor by claiming they are not poor at all. Either we have too much stuff, or we are not poor unless we are the poorest on the planet. We are required to appear to be poor to the casual observer, but since we live in an affluent culture, American poor people are often the recipients of castoffs from those who are better off. Consequently, we do not fit the mental image of what poor people are "supposed" to look like. My pink leather couch is a perfect example.

This was about 1994, when I moved back to Northern California

for a while. My health wasn't great, and I was having trouble

supporting myself. Salaries being offered were much lower

than in years past.

~~~

These are my sannyas pictures from 2003. My knees had

given out on me, exercise wasn't possible, and I packed on

the weight really fast. Later, I took much of it off.

~~~

I have a 40 year-old pink leather couch that was given to me by a fellow parishioner. A leather couch is considered to be a luxury item, but it is not even possible to sell the damn thing, even if I wanted to. I can not safely invite strangers to come into the apartment of a disabled, single senior lady and risk being robbed or killed. In the alternative, where should I sell it and how could I transport it there? And, after paying for transport, when I get my $100 for the darn thing, will I be able to buy a couch to replace it? No, of course not. I would have to buy someone else's old couch, and it won't be as suitable as the hand-me-down 35 year-old pink one that I have and that I love.

The famous pink couch.

This was in about 2015

~~~

But that pink couch that some may cite as proof of my fabulous wealth doesn't pay for dental work, which Medicare does not cover and costs thousands of dollars. All of your grandmas and grandpas are worried about their teeth because the average monthly income for each of us is about $1,000 a month! When dental work will cost three times a person's monthly income, what are they supposed to do? 3/4 of seniors have serious dental needs by the time they retire. Only the bottom third of poor people qualify for Medicaid, which pays for certain TYPES of dental work. Basically, it will pay to have your teeth removed. That is it. They may help with dentures after all your teeth have been lost.

This was about 2014, 2015.

The weight is starting to come off, bit by bit.

~~~

Another popular idea is most of the 40 million poor people are crooks with larcenous hearts and drug and alcohol addictions. This is a lie. There are no more drug addictions among the poor than among the middle class and wealthy.  The wealthy do a better job of hiding it.

If you have inherited a smart phone and if you have been given a computer, then you are likewise told you are not poor - but neither of those things would pay for that $3,000 dental work.

Facebook became my friend in my years at home after disability.

Being an artist at heart, I loved playing with the photo frames!

~~~

Compare this situation with what happens in all the other industrialized countries, and one has to wonder WHY, exactly, the richest country in the world cannot do what all the other industrialized countries do, despite those countries having far less wealth overall. Our corporations make gigantic profits. American corporate executives make 400 times what the average worker makes. Our entire system is designed to keep millions of us poor and a few people at the very top rich beyond the wildest dreams.

As I approach my 65th birthday this week, my sympathy for my brothers and sisters who belong to this HUGE class of people has been increased. I have a depth of understanding for what seniors, the disabled and the working poor are enduring because I am experiencing it myself.

This is me at age 60. Disabled for 10 years, but still

SMILING.

~~~

As a nation, we need some honesty and integrity to return to the political and social discourse. Prejudice against the poor and vulnerable is just one of the popular lies that is being employed by the wealthy to justify their own criminal, selfish intentions. If we do not turn this trend around, we will end up in a very bad place. Those of us with a serious spiritual life must remember that the bulk of Jesus' message was in favor of the poor. It is harder for the rich man to enter heaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle. Our value structure must be based on His criteria - not Donald Trump and men like him. Not the transactional attitude of big business and corporations.

With regard to this issue in general, I would ask you to consider supporting government programs that give health care to everyone. It is shameful that Americans are sometimes actually DYING from an inability to get dental care. Ignoring dental issues can and sometimes does result in heart problems and death. This does not happen in the other industrialized countries, even though they have far less wealth than the Americans do. Haven't you ever wondered WHY this is? If you do not believe what I have written here, please do yourself and all of us the favor of investigating and researching original sources and legitimate journalists.

For myself personally, I ask that you consider donating to my Paypal account so I can get some dental work. The eyeglasses for which I went through such agony to find the money six months ago have now fallen apart and need repair. My service dog himself needs dental surgery, amounting to between $500 and $800, otherwise he will have to be euthanized much sooner than otherwise. My personal papers and projects are in boxes all over my house because I need storage furniture, a writing desk, some filing cabinets, in addition to the aforementioned electric bed.

See the link to the right, above. I also have a BIRTHDAY WISH LIST on Amazon that includes a bed. Amazon has my address and will ship to me direct.

During the 33 years that I worked and supported myself, I never dreamed I would have to ask for help, but I do it regularly now because I am both disabled, senior, and without resources. What little family I had stole the inheritance my father arranged for me by changing his will after he got Alzheimers and after I became completely disabled. The man who signed his death certificate was a quack who went to jail for giving prescriptions to people he had never met and in amounts that would kill. My father's death was suspicious, but by the time I knew he was dead, those closest to him had quickly disposed of his body by cremation. These few facts tell you all you need to know about my little family. I leave them to their fate - in God's hands. In the meantime, what can I do? Just as others around the world, I must ask for help from the world at large. If help comes, I praise God. If help does not come, I praise God.

If you are able to help, I thank you in advance. If not, you may be one of the 40 million poor people who are struggling to make ends meet, and I will continue to pray for you. Or, you may be one of those people who disparages the poor and blames them. I pray for you also. I pray for everyone.

One day, I hope all Americans learn to treat others as if they were made in the likeness and image of God, instead of just mouthing that biblical platitude.

In the meantime, despite the multiple difficulties, I find meaning, joy and lessons in all of it and I still maintain an overriding sense of gratitude for my long life, which I hope continues for some time. Life is still good, and I still feel blessed. I hope you do likewise.

May all people have peace and happiness. As the Indian sages chant;

Shanti, Shanti, Shanti. Peace, Peace, Peace. May Peace be unto all people.

Silver "Rose"
Sannyasini Kaliprana

NATIONALISM VIOLATES ULTIMATE REALITY

Dalai Lama, giving a talk

HOW I CAME TO MY UNDERSTANDING

OF ONENESS, RELIGION, AND NATIONALISM

Ultimate reality, which is loosely termed "God" in the English vernacular, is called by an assortment of names by other religious traditions. The Vedantists say that God is one, but sages call it by different names.

God, the all-powerful, all-pervasive, cannot be limited by anything else, so one naturally wonders "what about me?" Am I separate from God? Yes and no. The stories that we tell about God and man shift when we touch various parts - and especially when we draw close to Him.

There is a parable about a group of blind men who are tasked with the job of describing an elephant. To one man, the elephant is long and thin, like a snake, with a tuft of hair on the end. To another, the elephant is like a tree trunk. Another says that it is a long, cool and hard thing, shaped like a curved cone.

There is reality, and then there is the way in which we speak about Ultimate Reality, which forms the teaching vehicles of the various religions. Each religion arises from and naturally addresses the personality of the culture in which it is birthed. Different personalities and different cultures respond to various religious vehicles in harmony with their lived experiences and their cultural environment.

When you touch the Divine, the holy ground of all being, one naturally wants to explain it, express it, teach it. The practices that lead to that Divine Oneness, such as meditation and prayer, are remarkably similar across the different religious traditions. I would venture to say that none is "perfect" from an absolutist perspective, but nothing outside of God IS "perfect" in the way that we imagine that term might manifest. It is actually ALL perfect when viewed through the lens of a good God that is creating all of it. God, being perfect, creates outward from Himself in a constant stream of love, and there we are.

If God is omnipotent and you can't limit him - what about all of us? That's the question - and it is worthy of study, thought and spiritual practices in order to find the answer.

I have been fortunate enough to experience an array of these religious teachings. When I was 17, I joined the Scientologists, who had a psychological bent, and went to Portugal on their flag ship. Thereafter, I dabbled with a Buddhist prayer path that involved a lot of chanting.

When I decided I wanted to learn how to meditate deeply and found Vedanta (a Hindu-derived group) I stayed with them for many years and learned a lot, but the cultural accretions, though beautiful and worthy, grew to feel like a suit of clothes that did not fit quite right. This mostly had to do with unfamiliar cultural norms and expectations, some of which were quite sexist.

Obviously, it is nothing like what we are used to in our country, nor could it have been expected to be, but it remained a key sticking point in my development. I had to be willing to ignore the misogyny I felt and to practice more cultural appropriation than was comfortable, and it finally got to be too much for me.

While in the convent, I sat in rapt attention during the very intense series of talks that Bill Moyers had with Joseph Campbell, based upon his book, "The Power of Myth" which drew parallels between many of our world religions that was part of what he perceived as a common paradigm - a framework in which to examine deep Truths common to all the major religious traditions.

At the same time, I was studying the mystical teachings of some of the saints of the Catholic faith. It felt much more familiar to me, being revealed wisdom in a western context. I was very drawn to it. 

Eventually I left the Vedanta convent and began my journey with the Catholics, where parish life has been a horror. Very few people seem to be interested in the mystical life. There is all this political junk, and a near obsession with divorce and matters having to do with sex. I was most interested in the Byzantine Rite, but the new priest from the Ukraine ridiculed me in public and made loud, ribald jokes about my body parts. It was appalling.

When Donald Trump came on the political scene and I objected to his cruelty of locking up more than 5,000 babies, toddlers and children in tight little cages, the group of Catholic women with whom I'd made friends immediately shunned me. They blocked me on Facebook, and when I saw them at church, they sneered at me, tilted their noses in the air, and turned their backs on me. Evidently, their type of Christianity says that it is perfectly fine that little brown innocents should be tortured if it would punish the parents who dared to walk over our border seeking asylum.  The fact that doing so amounted to nothing more than a misdemeanor didn't seem to factor into it. Only one of these women remained friendly with me, but, for the most part, the Catholic venture into parish life has been a disaster.

Some Catholics are oblivious to the life of a contemplative. One woman, who was bringing the eucharist to my house for some time, suddenly started showing me highly inappropriate photographs one day of a teenager dressed in skin-tight, flesh-colored dress that was so low-cut and so short at the same time, it was a wonder it covered anything at all! I recoiled in horror. Honestly, I thought she was showing me a picture of a prostitute. She was insulted because, evidently, they were pictures of her granddaughter, and the flesh-colored dress was her prom dress. I was wide-eyed in shock, to tell you the truth. I hardly knew what to say, but I am sure I was not diplomatic. Inwardly, I was flabbergasted that anyone would let that child out of the house looking like that. The woman told me that "all the girls" are dressing like that - but this isn't something I am used to. Clearly, I am out of step with modern society, but I am surprised that this woman was so clueless that she was proudly showing off these pictures.

My prom photo

Nevertheless, drawing closer to God, becoming immersed in the Divine Oneness, is still the goal, albeit in a more familiar form of a Western religious tradition. It is couched in terms that speak to a person raised in a Western culture, with its own saints and sages that lead the way down a more familiar path. But the God that waits for me at the end of that path is the same God of the Hindu, the Buddhist, the Muslim, etc. By definition, there can't really be more than one God, when one distills it to the ground of all being.

Are there "mistakes" or "errors" in the different religions? Some might say so. But I would say that adulterations of pure essence are actually part of the design of the thing, the further from the oneness of God one goes. Differentiation, itself, is an adulteration. In the Divine Oneness, there can't be differentiation, otherwise God is limited and is not omnipotent. It is difficult to speak around the topic of spiritual "oneness," since, if one is looking at a thing, differentiation is at least implied. If there is oneness, there can be no "other."

Sometimes I feel as if we are all actors in a soap opera meant for the amusement of God. Every good drama has some very evil villains that make us yell at our television screens and cry to Heaven for justice. When "the good guy" rides in and saves the day, we feel so good, don't we? Is God looking at us like this? I wonder.

Some people believe that if you don't belong to their particular religion, you will go to hell! Many of us seem to be already in Hell, we are so unconscious of the Divine Presence in our lives. Likewise, the Kingdom of God is among us, according to Jesus. Heaven and Hell are an inside job, apparently. However, I do not pretend to know with certainty what happens to any of us when we die. That's God's bailey wick, and I won't opine.

What does all this have to do with nationalism? In Catholic terms, I would say that God is omnipotent, he created the entire world from his being, including us who are made "in the likeness and image of God" and therefore there is no "nation" that is more beloved by God than any other. God probably doesn't recognize "nations." A nation is an artificial construct designed to organize people who live on a certain piece of dirt. There are common understandings and agreements that solidify it, and rules (laws) about how to apply the underlying philosophy that binds the people together. It vaguely speaks to our relationship with God, but nationalism is on one of the furthest rings of consciousness - far from the ground of all being, far from Ultimate Reality.

I am quite sure of one thing, and that is that our all-loving God loves the native person who lives in the Amazon just as much as He loves the Pope in Rome or a poor brown child in one of those cages on the border. God doesn't care where they live. He cares about them.

If we are to be perfect as our Father in Heaven is perfect, we need to at least mimic the love God has for all His creatures, loving the English, the Dutch, and the South African as much as we love our American compatriots.

We are meant to bring this understanding of the deepest spiritual realities into our day-to-day lives. This is what Jesus was all about. If we only enjoy ourselves diving into the ocean of endless bliss and do not bring it back into our lives and give its fruit to others, we are exercising spiritual masturbation and missing the entire point of the realization of the Oneness of God and all creation. The entire Bible speaks of how we are to do this. In it, we are told to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the prisoner, be kind to the stranger. Jesus ALSO advises us to go off alone, by ourselves, and pray to God.

I am grateful to be living in America, a fairly wealthy country that is naturally beautiful and offers a certain amount of freedom to its inhabitants. But I wouldn't say I love Americans more than English people or Welsh people or Scottish people. All of the people are God's people, and I love them accordingly, which is why I have been absolutely bereft and have cried many times when I see the poor refugee children being abused at our borders, snatched away from their parents in Donald Trump's vile attempt to torture the refugees into thinking twice about coming here. Those children are my children because they are God's children, and I love them every bit as much as if they were born of me.

Likewise, the children of the 680 people that were arrested at the chicken processing plants in one of the Southern states. They arrived home to find the doors locked and NO provisions made for even where they were going to sleep that night or what they would eat. No after-school snack for them! Seeing at least one of those children, weeping and shaking uncontrollably, expressing the deepest torment, and begging Donald Trump to give her back her dad, who is "not a criminal," just busted me up. Even now, remembering that video, brings tears to my eyes.

These current events do not exemplify the timeless truths of the love of God. They are the evil part of the soap opera, and we must find a way to stop it.

If you are interested in topics suggested by this post, feel free to contact me and I can refer you to some good literature.

In the meantime, God bless us all.

Silver Rose

(Sannyasini Kaliprana)

Silver Cottage Ashram Hermitage

Albuquerque, New Mexico

Copyright © 2019

All rights reserved.

PREJUDICE AGAINST "BABY BOOMERS" IS NOT OKAY EITHER

Me in my early 20's

When I was young and knew nothing, I had scores of people clamoring for my opinions, my friendship, and my heart, especially when I was a young, fairly pretty screenwriter, selling my work to a major Hollywood studio. But now, despite years of experience, education, adventures and wisdom, I am fighting a general tendency of others to treat me as if I am a dunce or a mental patient, simply because I have reached a certain age. Being poor, disabled and needy probably has something to do with my sudden status as an imbecile. Too often, I am the recipient of the unwarranted rolled eyeballs. You know what I am talking about.

I am aware that, in the spiritual realm, this treatment is supposed to be good for me, and I try to bow my head to it as much as possible, but it goes against the grain, having been an entirely independent woman from the age of 17, when I walked out of my natal home with nothing but the clothes on my back and South Indian hippie purse that contained little more than a hair brush and some lipstick. It is my life experiences that have taught me to speak out against injustice and prejudice, otherwise the next gal will get an even worse time of it. I owe it to her to put the brakes on, if only just a little bit.

In the wake of the Trump era, I have experienced incidents of discrimination having to do with my disabilities, which is made worse by ageism and fat prejudice. You may remember that grocery clerk at the Smiths store who told me that he believes in "Trump's law" (whatever THAT was) and that, unless I have had "two arms cut off or two legs cut off," I am not really disabled and don't deserve to park in the handicap parking, despite being actually disabled and having a legitimate, state-issued parking placard.

Many people in our culture are making these decisions about the worthiness of others, based only on what a cursory glance tells them.

Last Friday, I had a horrible experience with a passport agent at the post office who was unreasonably nasty, personally offensive, and condescending to me in a way that I never experienced before the addition of wheels to my life; wheels on my walker, wheels on my electric scooter, and wheels on a car I cannot live without because walking has become impossible. I had nightmares for two days afterwards.

Today, I endured the sneers, rolling eyeballs and tsk tsking of fellow shoppers at Whole Foods, as I tried to maneuver down the aisles in the electric cart that is far too big, the dimensions of which were blatantly ignored when the clerks placed their food displays in the narrow corridors. One woman was so keen to circumvent my little parade, she pushed her cart with great force from the checkout line to the far wall. It neatly clipped my shuddering vehicle. She glared at me, as if it was MY bright idea to send a grocery cart careening across the waxed floors, unmanned.

When my groceries were finally rung up, I discovered, to my utter chagrin, that I'd left my debit card in my other purse, something I have never done in my life, and thereby earned a withering glance from the cashier. It was then that I learned that Whole Foods does not take checks and, though owned by Amazon, has no method of getting payment from you if you leave your card at home. It's cash or plastic, and that's it. I seem to remember it being very easy to read someone's check, in day's gone by, but apparently, that is too simple. The cashier was completely devoid of empathy. He said he could put the groceries aside for me to pick them up later or they could put them all away. He and the packing clerk exchanged ugly glances.

One of the reasons that my apartment is not suited to my needs is that I live in a food desert. There is one very small neighborhood market with highly suspect, extremely expensive fruits and vegetables. Expiration dates are very near or actually expired and I suspect that the storage in the back room is not air conditioned properly because the fruits and vegetables wilt within a day of buying them. ALL of the grocery stores that carry healthy foods are MILES away from where I live, and shopping trips are very hard on me. I was a long way from home, with no debit card. I just couldn't come back.

I couldn't see myself driving 20 minutes home to get my card, 20 minutes back to the store, 20 minutes home again. I could not do that extra hour and also put away groceries that would be half ruined from sitting out for so long. I opted to have them put it all away. Neither the cashier nor the packer uttered a single kind word. I don't know why I was apologizing, but I did - probably because they were making it clear that I had wasted their very precious time. I received no sympathy or fellow feeling or recognition that I was still a customer. No. Just those ugly glances.

I was in so much pain by this point that I was unable to walk, and when I tried to take the electric cart to my car, the stupid "sensors" did not want to let me through the door - not because you're not allowed to take the carts to your car, but because the sensors have been installed so that you won't run into the towers of groceries that I previously mentioned were placed in the aisles of the store. As I worked furiously to try to get the cart to go through the exit doors, an indignant man stood inches from me, his face black with rage. I was inconveniencing him. There was another exit door a few feet away. He could have used that, but no, he wanted to make it clear to me just how mad he was that I dared to interrupt his flow through life.  If I had been my former 21 year-old self, he would have been falling all over himself to help the pretty young disabled lady, I would bet. I finally got out the door and drove home wondering what the hell I was going to eat, since my cupboards were bare and I was hungry.

This hostility toward older and disabled people is really disturbing.  It wasn't until I'd read a sullen and resentful diatribe against "boomers" written by a Facebook connection, that I began to comprehend the strong sentiment that is being generated by our progeny and their kids. They blame all of us that were born during certain years for somehow not leaving them a nice enough world to live in, completely missing the fact that only the very wealthy among our generation had any realistic power in which to operate, and the comparative ease of the older boomer's lives was dictated by economic factors that no longer exist.

As in all ages, it is the people who have money who hold the power in the society. The rest of us just scramble to hold onto the edge of the bowl so we don't fall in. As much as I tried to educate my Facebook acquaintance about this reality, her hostility and bitterness toward all people in that generation came gushing from her in a torrent of resentful words, and I had to walk away from the negativity.

I am having a curious ride, between the ageism and the sexism and the disability prejudice and the fat shaming and the misogyny. Being a member of several vulnerable groups can be exhausting. Of course, people of color are the experts on this sort of thing, as the prejudice that is thrown at them constantly is often life threatening. At least no one has made a move to kill me when I got in their way in the grocery store.

Recently, a member of my former parish started circulating an anti-boomer meme that was couched in the form of a comic cartoon. It was really only a pretense of humor. It was bitingly mean and the kind of thing that has a corrosive effect on society, if left unchallenged. When I explained to him that it was insulting and inappropriate, he coolly told me it was a joke and that he found it funny. I tried to reason with him, but his smugness let me know that he considered this particular prejudice to be okay to cultivate and it didn't bother him if anyone was hurt by it.

I found it an odd attitude for a well-churched young man to take. Frankly, I had expected better from him, given his education, but one can't force enlightenment on anyone.  Ageism is wide spread in America. I have heard that this is less of a problem in other cultures where they revere their elders and treat them with respect, but here in the U.S., many take it for granted, assuming their prejudice has some basis in fact.

The baby boomers aren't the first generation to experience discrimination. I remember when my father hit his 40's and he was constantly telling me of the ageism that he was experiencing. He began to have trouble finding work. People dismissed him as an old hack. I discounted his constant carping and assumed that he had earned this treatment because he really did have an unpleasant personality, with no appreciation for social norms.  Clearly, I was missing some information that only experience could provide.

The prejudices expressed by those entitled young people on Facebook aren't even logical. The fact of the matter is that each generation contains all sorts of people. Some are selfish and couldn't care less about the kind of world they leave to their children and grandchildren. Some spend all their time and money on worthy causes. Some are in their own world and live for whatever hobby horse has captured their imagination. Many people - perhaps most people - just struggle to stay ahead of the daily grind.

Wages for the middle class stalled from 1970 to 2005, basically the baby boomer working years. At the same time, however, corporate profits and CEO wealth skyrocketed. Whatever value the baby boomer created by her effort benefited only the company and the executives, leaving her desperate to feed her kids and stay ahead of the repair bills on the car, which is probably why her kids resent her so much. Mom was always working. If she wasn't at her full time job, she left the kids alone in the apartment at night and on weekends while she worked her side hustle.

The kids are blaming their boomer mom for leaving them to their own devices much of the time, but it's an unfair complaint. Life got harder and harder during those working years, from 1970 to 2005. From my personal perspective, I ended up making less money in real dollars in my 40's than I had in my 20's. The economic machine was sending all the value of my work to the bank accounts of a few people at the top of the pyramid, leaving me scrabbling for table scraps that fell from above. Who can build a world for the next generation when you're survival is at stake? It is a rigged system. This is the fault of capitalism, which MUST be regulated, or it naturally results in all the money being concentrated at the top, shared with just a few people.

Older people can be repositories of great wisdom, information and inspiration. That isn't true of all elderly people, of course. You know the saying, "with age comes wisdom, but sometimes it comes alone!" To pretend that every gray haired granny is a wizened old sage would be just another type of irrational prejudice. One must recognize, though, that the wisdom of many years is certainly a latent possibility in every person of a certain age. By very definition, they have more years of experiences than the young and, even if they DO start to become a little addled, don't they deserve simple human kindness? Jesus would say so.

It would be wonderful to think that writing a blog would disabuse scores of people of the notion that older people are all losing their minds and have nothing to offer the world. I don't have a prayer of changing the entire culture, but I will do my bit here. I am the perennial advocate for the misunderstood and maligned.

If you consider yourself a spiritual person, a religious person, or a person of honor and integrity, then you must agree that prejudice is evil. Condemning someone or ridiculing anyone, based solely upon some general group to which they belong, is an injustice to that person and shouldn't be tolerated. Pretending that comical character assassinations are benign is, likewise, dishonest. Don't encourage the incorrigible by laughing and then passing on the sentiment!

Jesus clearly wanted us to be kind to one another, and that doesn't include expressing contempt toward your elders in the mistaken idea that they are somehow less than you and that therefore it is alright to be prejudiced about anyone over the age of 40. There is no prejudice that is "allowed" or is culturally acceptable. Just stop it!

My postal carrier commiserated with me today, making the observation that, "it's a very strange time in America. People are so MEAN." This is true, but we have to fight this tendency as hard as we can. This meanness is not a holy stance to take, and it is incumbent upon Christians to follow the commandments of the Lord to the best of our abilities - and that means that we are to love everyone.

Read the Beatitudes again. That's a good place to start.

God bless us all.

Silver "Rose" Parnell
"Sannyasini Kaliprana"

SET THAT ALARM CLOCK, HERMITESS!

Hermit Girl Shakuntala

by

Sudeshna Ghosh

Many devout women who find themselves alone after retirement are enthused to become hermits or informal lay religious persons. You see whispers of them in little-traveled blogs, and some write me. In the midst of the allurements of the modern world, there is still a deep calling of the spirit for this ancient, solitary and silent path. Old age naturally lends itself to it.  In fact, it was common that, at the sunset of their lives, the Hindus would take up the life of what was called 'sannyas," which only later became a state of life that could be embarked upon while still young. I took sannyas vows in my 40's.

If you are not looking to be supported by any religious institution, and if you do not pretend to any official status in the church, it is perfectly fine to embark on a dedicated life, sanctifying everything you do, every hour you breathe, and every joy you experience, to our Lord. You do not need anyone's permission. After all, you are already living alone, in some apartment or a house that has been left to you through some lucky chance or for which you worked when you were young.

There are many opinions about what constitutes a hermit or contemplative, but there are really only a couple requirements. Primarily, of course, one must be single, unmarried and unencumbered with children, otherwise your time does not belong to you alone. Hermits, or "solitaries" or whatever you call them, live alone. They are celibate and, for our purposes on this blog, the purpose for living that life is a spiritual one. There are people for whom the solitary life is a lifestyle or an escape, and it always bothers me when they are lumped in with the spiritual seeker in magazine and newspaper articles.

Modern hermitess, Rachel Denton

(Washington Post November 16, 2015)

Typically, these women are not leaving to walk into the desert or the forest, though some have done so. No. The modern mystic must pray in place, usually, because everything costs dearly these days, especially anything approaching an "inspirational" atmosphere. There are no free houses in the forests or free water in the desert, and few seniors are healthy enough to be too far removed from the medical establishment and the pharmacy, in any case.

It used to be common for the citizens of a village or town to support a local hermit or anchoress, and there were many patrons, in gratitude for their wealth, who would sponsor these virtuous individuals, giving them food and shelter and attending to their other needs, but faith and Christian charity are not what they used to be, and most tycoons of today are too busy erecting gigantic mansions and other testaments to their own importance to give thought to the needs of the humble seeker.

Didi Anuprabha

Even the common folk are contemptuous of the efforts of the contemplative. While searching for photographs to break up the text of this blog post, I was saddened to see a number of hostile comments left on the Washington Post's article about modern hermit Rachel Denton, a former Carmelite who lives as a hermit in a small village in England. The degree of ignorance about and resentment of the life of the spirit is quite high just now. Westerners are living in a period of extreme antipathy to genuine religious sentiment, and the kindness and compassion of Jesus are rarely found. Several of the commenters found fault with Rachel's simple house. They expected her to be living in a dirty shack or a cave in the forest, evidently. I would just say that, not only do we have to make do with what is available for our hermitage, we must also do our best to ignore the bitter rancor of the uninitiated and to pray for their enlightenment.

The article about Rachel can be found HERE

What is most concerning is that faith in the power of intercessory prayer is so weak, that the value of hosting a religious solitary is no longer appreciated, in general. Particularly now, we have entered an age in which the poor are vilified and, despite the blatant and continual "preference for the poor" expressed throughout the old and new testaments, prejudice against them is very intense. This increases the difficulty of the dedicated life, but when the call received in the soul is too strong to be ignored, we must respond and do the best we can to put ourselves at the disposal of our beloved, using modern means to assist us in our efforts.

Saint Ita, the Hermitess of Killeedy

In most cases, you will not take vows, though I did take the vows of a female swami ('sannyasini'), years ago, thanks to the auspices of my Vedanta teacher, Swami Swahananda. I carry these forward through my current religious life. I don't pretend to perfect adherence to all the precepts, but I take care with the traditional values of poverty and chastity which are the externals of a life lived in concert with the Divine.

First of all, as mentioned above, one has to be SINGLE, not a married woman living with husband and children. That would defy the intrinsic nature of the hermit life, which is solitary. Very occasionally, a husband and wife, with no living children, will retreat "into the forest" as did some of the Indian mystics of ancient lore and, though rare, this does happen. Before attempting it, I would recommend gaining the advice of a spiritual director, though. It is almost impossible to obey the dictates of a celibate life when living en famille. Monastic life is already difficult for most people, but there are exceptional sorts who are equally yoked with another who get on famously as a sort of miniature cenobitic monastery, a deux.

But even those of us who are single and free to give all our life to God (since no human has any claim on it) have difficulty, at times, in keeping a schedule because of the press of day-to\-day business. In my case, I am disabled, and it takes forever to get even the simplest things done. Even though my ailments prevent me from adhering to the acetic practices typically enjoined on a swami, they provide their own pains and torments that probably far outweigh the little fasts and uncomfortable sleeping arrangements and what have you. Each of us needs to find our own way, given our own unique circumstances, while ignoring the carping critics.

Swamini Vishwagodavaari Mata

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One advantage of living in community is that there is a framework of time into which one can slip oneself. You don't have to remember that meditation is at noon, nor do you need to keep your eye on the clock, because there are several outside prompts. Simply seeing your other sisters walking to the temple for noon meditation is enough. When I was a nun in the Vedanta convent, I would grab my chaddar (prayer shawl) and follow them. In some institutions, there are lovely bells that chime to announce all the "official" prayer times.

Gradually, over the years, my schedule got lost. There are numberless impediments to a meditative life when one lives in an apartment, for instance, as I do. A house is well beyond my means, but even a freestanding house is not necessarily quiet and tranquil. Friends tell me of having to endure a cacophony of jarring music, fighting neighbors, barking dogs, and the shrieks of rowdy, inebriated party guests at nearby homes.  My residence of the last 14 years has grown increasingly chaotic and boisterous, with many intrusions. Peace and quiet seem to be the dearest attributes of any habitation, and contemplation is often nearly impossible. Even reading can be a challenge, at times. These conditions are not conducive to spiritual life, but we have to try to move through it, using whatever few aids are available in the modern era. The first is ear plugs. The second is a cell phone.

Cloistered Catholic Nun

Where Catholic religious women live alone, together

Using as a model the Hollywood convent schedule from my time with the Vedanta Society of Southern California, I programmed into my phone the following skeleton schedule. [Yes, I have a smart phone. It was given to me and has become another essential tool in the arsenal of the modern hermit.]

Keep in mind that this is a skeleton schedule, meditation periods are an hour, but they can be shorter or longer, practically speaking. It just depends on what is happening that day. If I am in horrible pain, I may spend the whole day in prayer, as I am unable to do much else, physically speaking.

My schedule:

4:00 a.m. Rise
6:00 a.m. meditation
7:00 a.m. breakfast
11:00 a.m. Elevenses (tea & bisquits)
12:00 p.m. prayers & meditation
1.00 p.m. Lunch
3:00 p.m. Divine Mercy Chaplet ( on Fridays and special feast days)
4:00 p.m. Tea
6:00 p.m. prayer & meditation (108 on my prayer rope)
7:00 p.m. dinner
9:00 p.m. bed

Keep in mind that one's entire day is supposed to be conducted in the spirit of prayer, so that even periods of work, the fruits of which are offered to the Lord, become part of the overall meditative endeavor. Mindfulness must be carried through all of it.

Now, there is a lot that I have to squeeze into that schedule, but I don't want an alarm for absolutely everything, so I am writing down the other items and will keep the full list somewhere near my living room altar. I need to apportion my work time between my writing and my painting which, in addition to the housework necessary to maintain myself, constitute what would be recognized as "work" by secular society.

The amount of time you will be able to dedicate to prayer will vary, according to your station in life, but every one of us has SOME portion of time that is free. Just do the best you can, and remember that brother Lawrence used to say that he was as much with the Lord amongst his pots and pans as he would be in the choir stall.

Brother Lawrence

To the other mystics among us, I encourage you not to lose heart. You can partake of the mystical life, even if beset with many duties and barking dogs. I have been living this life since 2003 and have probably made all the mistakes and have had all the setbacks. Feel free to write me for encouragement. In the meantime, try setting the alarm clock and see if that helps you.

God bless us all

Silver Rose