While our society is mostly governed by white Christian males, I feel it is useful to examine some of the text by which they claim to live. In my experience, it doesn’t take much study of The Bible to discover that this is a book written by men, not God. As such, there is beauty and inspiration, as in the words of a gifted philosopher named Jesus. There is also explicit racism, sexism, sanction and encouragement of genocide, and explicit approval of slavery.

Here is one shining example, from Leviticus:

However, you may purchase male or female slaves from among the foreigners who live among you. You may also purchase the children of such resident foreigners, including those who have been born in your land. You may treat them as your property, passing them on to your children as a permanent inheritance. You may treat your slaves like this, but the people of Israel, your relatives, must never be treated this way. (Leviticus 25:44-46)

Children, too? What a lovely passage. And only one of many. Note that the author states though you may enslave children, men and women for life, you must never treat your own this way.

We may find this parallels well a tacit notion of today’s world: that Western state atrocities are wholly permissible, while their atrocities are a vile crime.

It is patently evident that The Bible was written not by God, but by men, and much as they do today, these men clearly imposed the most pitiful, ugly, and base human qualities onto a god they created in their own image.

They do not speak for God.

I have been at the threshold. More than once. There aren’t gates but there is an entrance, a doorway. There are the most wonderful creatures inside. People I recognize. People I have never met, but feel instinctively drawn to. It is a very earthy place; not sterile and white at all. There is dirt and mud and funk. The sun shines. Plants grow long and lush.

But for some reason, many times I have resisted walking through. Maybe because I was afraid it wouldn’t be as good as I had hoped, but I think mostly because I enjoyed the anticipation. I like to sit just outside the door, maybe chat with some of the people inside. There is a shiny black Labrador there, and she seems to recognize me. She wags her tail when she sees me, jumps up and lets me scratch behind her ear. We play around, but she always wants me to come in. I can rarely coax her out.

So I wait here, at the threshold. It’s comfortable enough, and I visit with people on their way in. They seem to accept me as some sort of unofficial receptionist. I look up and smile hopefully, and some of them chat for a while. Some ask why I don’t cross over. Others just smile and walk through. They leave me.

Other times people actually sit down and visit. The view is pleasant, the earth smells good, and it’s really not such a bad place to be. Just outside of heaven is not hell. Far from it! There’s some residual heaven out here; it’s just inevitable. It spills out.

Sometimes I think they have the same issues as me, though, the ones that stay. They’re afraid too. Some even want to draw me further away, and that is where I can get myself into trouble. Mostly, I’ve gotten better at keeping myself close to that source.

This waiting around outside the door, though, it can become an occupation. I get used to it. I sit down, eat a meal, I get sleepy. I say to myself, It’s not so bad to wait here, is it? Besides, It’ll be there tomorrow… and then I fall asleep just outside paradise, like Dorothy did within view of her Emerald City. I sleep through the night.

But when I wake up the next day, the door is gone! Branches and vines grew up and covered it. Or maybe I wandered a little too far last night and got lost… I don’t remember. I could swear I laid myself down right near the entrance. But somehow I lost it.

So here I go, running, desperate to find the door again. I cut myself on a branch, twist an ankle, but I don’t care. It’s one thing to live just outside that door with the promise of what’s inside so close to me. To lose it entirely, that is another thing, one I can’t live with.

Then I find it.

I stop, lean forward to catch my breath with my hands on my knees. But I’m already calming down, getting my confidence back. I recognize the doorway, the view inside, the earthy smell. The vibe I get when I’m out here, close to this beautiful place. There’s a woman this time, just inside the entrance. She is brown skinned, with features that suggest she is Indian, or maybe Pakistani. She smiles at me.

“You’re Tristan.”
“Yeah… . This is still heaven, right?”
She laughs.
“Yes. When are you coming inside?”

It’s a great question, and the truth is I almost bolted right through the door in my hurry. But I’ve found it again. My heart beat slows, relief floods my body. There’s no reason to hurry…

“I can still come through anytime I want, right?” I ask her.

She smiles, shakes her head.

“Of course. But why not today? We’re having a party tonight and we want you to play music for us. Plus I’m going away tomorrow and I need someone to take care of my place for a few weeks. Maybe longer.”

“Really?” I ask her.

“Mm hmm. Dolphins swim up to the dock every day outside my house, and I need someone there to visit with them tomorrow. They like sardines in the afternoon.”

My heart jumps.

“You live on the ocean?” I ask her, breathlessly.
“Yes.”
“I could feed them?”
She smiles again. “They would appreciate it.”
“Do they like… chirp and stuff? Make those sounds?”
She laughs.

“Of course.” Her speech has that effervescent quality I recognize when Indians speak English. It’s like she’s laughing when she talks.
“Could I dive in and swim with them?” I ask this one anxiously, afraid she might say no.
“Sure!” She says. “They would love that. As long as you don’t forget to feed them the fish.”

Something about the way this woman smiles. Or maybe it’s because she gave me an actual job to do, something tangible.

I walk through.

The first thing I realize, as soon as I get in and start making plans, meeting people and starting a life, is that waiting outside was silly because stepping inside is not an ending, it’s a beginning. It’s a process and it’s relationship driven, so the sooner you get started the better. This place isn’t lily white with everyone floating around with inane expressions on their faces; it is a buzz of excitement, fresh ideas, inspiration.

So here I am. There is much to discover here, and much to learn. Heaven is a hilarious place. Everyone here makes me laugh. I find I am fascinated with the real story behind things, the degrees of connection between everyone and every thing, and this is the place where I can get it. I meet people I knew from my life before, and we marvel at how in the worst moments of our former lives we had the answer the whole time, right there in front of us. We agree that the times when we laughed were the closest to where we are now. Most people focus on discovering their hidden talents, like raising baby parrots, jumping off a sheer cliff to soar down just over the ocean and fly back up again, and creating objects by speaking them into existence.

I’ve been working with some people, designing instruments that respond to thoughts, and key on changes to the electromagnetic fields around your body. I’m a drummer so I still need to run my fingers over the instrument, hit things and make noise. I still want the tactile pleasure of getting my hands on things and laying into that physical surface in three dimensional space. Still, it’s pretty magical to feel something, imagine it, and hear it streaming back at you with no loss in the translation between the music of your inner world and the sound that comes pulsing out.

I’m still here at Sajani’s. I spend a fair amount of time at that beautiful old Steinway baby grand in the room with the gently whirring ceiling fan, the windows open to the beach and wild ocean outside, the brick fireplace and exposed hardwood beams in the walls and old barn wood ceiling above. She travels a lot, but I like when she’s home because we trade stories and make chocolate smoothies. I slept a lot at first, but once I started meeting people and making connection after connection in my new life, I found I got swept up in the excitement and projects that unfolded from them. A lot of these are based around reaching new people who aren’t ready to walk through that doorway yet.

Sometimes I go back and find the entrance, only now that I’m on the inside, I have such a different perspective that it literally looks like a different place. It’s a little dull: not as vivid and exciting as the life inside. I’m in a unique position to speak to the people hanging around, if there are any. They’re a lot like I was. I tell them: it’s okay to be afraid. I was afraid, too. I tell them that once you step in, you’re lifted up on a rush of energy. You get carried off by it. I remind them that if they choose to walk through, they can walk back out anytime they want to, although of course I know they won’t.

The one thing I find common to almost everyone hanging around outside the entrance: they’re a little blurry. Their colors aren’t as bright, their eyes not as brilliant.

I tell them what I have learned: that the conditions do not have to be perfect in order for you to walk through. You begin improving them as soon as you step in. The party is happening now. To hold back is like saying, Well, I’ve been starving for close to a month now and someone just invited me to dinner, but I think I should put it off for a day or two… get myself ready. It doesn’t make sense. They invited you tonight for a reason, and you are hungry. Go.

God is here right now. God is the animal suffering horribly in a bioweapons lab. God is an Afghan woman, an Iraqi child who’s legs were blown off in a US bombing raid.

Jesus said, “Whatsoever you do to these, the least of my brothers and sisters, you do to me.” And yet we have the torture of prisoners, we have systematic, dreadful cruelty to animals, we have economic exploitation of developing countries as a matter of policy. We have corporations and politicians who profit from the same senseless, illegal wars they create. Americans live in a nation in which those who have risen to the highest ranks of supposed authority perpetrate the lowest acts of degradation and atrocity human beings have ever been capable of. If they only knew that the things they imagine as so far off are available to us now. We have shown that by living in fear and competition and separation we can create hell on earth. As bad as we can make it, that’s how good it can be. I think the responsibility rests with us.

In my opinion, that baby cow suffering so horribly and alone in the veal crate is God. This is your chance. This is the test. You will not get closer to God than to open that crate, cradle that fragile creature’s head in your hands and say, “I am so sorry. We will never do this to you again.” and then lead it back to its mother.

To me, this is it. This beautiful blue pearl of a planet that we’ve ground into near total pollution and destruction. No one behaves this callously, this arrogantly, this viciously to the beautiful plants and animals of this exquisite planet, dies and goes to heaven. That is just not possible. This is where it happens, starting with me and starting with you: here and now, or not at all.

Tristan L. Sullivan

Broken Arrow
Are You Funny?
25 Things or less About Me

“There’s only one institution in the world today more powerful than American government, and that is American civil society.”

Arundhati Roy

Do you watch Dr. Phil?

Dr. Phil comes to me via FM, from a station in Albany, NY, I believe.

My concerns about the good doctor:

I guess my first concern is that I have not yet heard Dr. Phil say one positive or encouraging thing and sound genuine. Not one. It sounds to me (and to be fair I have probably only heard four or five hours of his show), as if Dr. Phil’s people go out and find guests convenient for him to talk down to and objectify.

Clearly, his producers have little trouble finding the right people in the right circumstances on which he can perform this little trick. But that proves very little, and it amounts to a pretty empty meal to serve up to the masses who tune in.

If you happen to catch the show, notice how he does it. You can almost hear music cue up, a tiny pause after the guest says something and then whack- the patronizing zinger. This gets applause from the audience, ego gratification for him, a cheap fix for the viewer… voila.

But that’s not hard to achieve when it’s your turf, your show, your context, your audience primed for your program, and your producers bringing in the guests who are in a vulnerable position from the start. It doesn’t impress me much when a man in this position speaks from ego and condescends to people. It’s a cheap trick. Any marginally competent human being could do it.

My question is, do people feel good about themselves and about this human condition after watching?

I have walked away several times now with more appreciation for the troubled guests than for the host. The forty-one year old marrying an eighteen year old girl. The addicted teenager. The friend of a deceased celebrity drug addict who didn’t step in soon enough to rescue her. They all sounded more genuine to me than the man up there grilling them.

In one case I saw Dr. Phil invite for an interview the producer of a show called “Bum Fights.” The producer of this show convinces homeless people to fight with each other: punch, break bottles over each other’s heads, etc. He films it, and makes money off of them. They showed an interview with the guy, who said something like “People look at bums and they see something disgusting, they see a derelict… I see talent.” Dr. Phil made a big show of how exploitive this was, how repugnant. Then, when the guy walked out onto the stage for the interview, Phil immediately and with dramatic flourish kicked him off. Didn’t even allow him to say a word. It was moral grandstanding of the most obvious kind. As a psychologist, Dr. Phil should be smart enough to know that he sees himself in this producer, and that his indignation is for his own gratification.

From what I have heard, our friend Phil usually finds an opportunity to deliver some sort of grandstanding platitude, the kind of cheap wisdom you find hanging in someone’s kitchen after they’ve been through AA. He leaves me with doubt, though, as to whether he has the insight, intuitive feel, or compassion needed to actually help these people or inspire them to make changes in their lives. I don’t know that he helps his audience either, or anyone else, except his network and investors. In short, I think he focuses on the negative, and the cheap gratification associated with it.

But, there is always hope. Who knows, maybe I will turn on the radio tomorrow while I’m out running errands and Dr. Phil will impress me with his acumen and his sincerity. This is my hope.

Dr. Phil, I’m going to do the thing for you that you fail to do for your guests: I want to believe in you; I believe you are a good man at heart. I am expecting your very best.

Show us that you can inspire and lead by example. Your guests are vulnerable; don’t go for the kill. Speak from your heart, from generosity and compassion.

Demonstrate your understanding of this unshakable truth:

You can try to motivate people by talking down to them, or you can try to motivate people by believing in them. You always get better results when you treat people as if you believe in them.

For the rest of us, my suggestion is that we shine the light of our attention on those who can imagine something better for this world, who see the beauty and potential in humanity, not look for the worst and exploit it for profit. You could do either with the same guests and the same audience. It all depends on your perspective and where your heart is.

I like Dr. Wayne Dyer. I find Dyer insightful, and his words resonate.

I feel Waynes work would be a great antidote to the toxic spectacle we dealt with above. You just might find yourself feeling hopeful afterwards.

Tristan L. Sullivan

www.tristanluke.com

It is on its way.

Do you like science? I find it fascinating. I love it. I’m attracted to scientists, too. Especially if they look like Debi Mazar in The Insider. No, she didn’t play a scientist, but she could have.

But what’s going on? It is my perception that throughout history, scientists had a kind of humility and wonder at the laws of nature and the natural world. They had to prevail against the tyranny of monarchs, the vanity of their patrons, and more than anything of course, religion. It was a scientist who first suggested the earth revolved around the sun (heliocentric), rather than the other way around, and he suffered for it.

But this is a techno age, and the whole thing has been reversed. Scientists have begun to see things as revolving around them again.

Actually, I don’t think it really is the hard core scientists that are the problem, not the really brilliant ones. Some whom I admire and follow as best I can are: Candace Pert, Edward Witten, Fred Allan Wolf, Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking, John Hagelin.

I think the problem is more the hangers on of scientists: those who have a background in science for their work, but don’t really practice it or conduct research and haven’t since they graduated.

There is a debate, well not much of a one really but there is a debate raging at this YouTube video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxanQCuXvhk

If the video is no longer available, just know that basically, self-help guru James Arthur Ray, one of the stars of the popular new DVD The Secret, defends his ideas and methods against Psychology Professor John Norcross’s attack.

Now, one of the things Norcross states, and what lots of people down below in the text comments are contending, is that Mr. Ray’s claims are not scientifically valid. James Arthur Ray explains how the teachings of the above mentioned movie, and those of his own website and program, have resulted in major turnarounds in people’s lives. He cites a specific case and gives a woman’s name.

When prompted by the host to respond, Mr. Norcross actually follows this with, “Well of course, but we don’t know that’s causal…” and, “Cases are not science. We need randomized, clinical trials…”

I fear Mr. Norcross has mistaken the map for the terrain.

In this realm, there can really only be anecdotal evidence. This is not a fault of Mr. Ray’s methodology. We’re talking about actual people and their lives here; and if after applying Mr. Ray’s methods this lady greatly improved her life, then wouldn’t there be too many variables to apply the kind of controlled clinical study Mr. Norcross refers to? If it was possible, for example via the kind of trials conducted with control groups to validate antidepressant medications, would it really be necessary?

If the lady Mr Ray speaks of truly went from taking twelve medications a day to none, got back to doing meaningful work and is clearly doing much better; if someone actually did double their income or find the relationship they wanted, et cetera, then my friends it would seem to me that this is the idea.

These are the things that all people want in their lives. Including Professor John Norcross. Science is here to help with that, not the other way around. If a form of spirituality, or the study of certain ideas about universal laws i.e. The Secret works for people, well then… it works.

In my opinion, science is meant to aid our lives, to enhance our lives, it is not in itself the end.

If Mr. Ray gets the kinds of results he claims and his system is working, this is in no way diminished by the inability to force it into some kind of prefabricated scientific mold.

In my experience, the world always responds to our expectations of it. It could be that whichever we decide is true, Mr. Norcross’s position or Mr. Ray’s, we will find out we were right.

www.tristanluke.com

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