INVOLVE HER

A lovely yoga teacher mentioned how important the breath was during her class. The phrase she used caught my ear, and led me to this prose. 

Restricted, constricted, we hold back the power

We hide, we’ve lied, we cling and then cower

We hold on, we hold on – waiting for that perfect space

We hold on, we hold on – grasping for something safe

We’re blind to the bliss, the grand state of glory 

We repeat the lines to some old, worn-out story

What have we forgotten, what don’t we consider? 

It’s the power of the breath – shall we include her? 

 

She is expansion, she is the heights, the breadth 

She is the inhale and exhale, she is the breath

The urgency of her sustenance is met when we must

The depth of her being is explored when we trust

The gift she brings originates from a haven high above 

The gift of her giving comes from a pure state of love

No longer do we fear her, no longer do we spite her 

It is the magnificence of the breath – let us invite her

 

Nowhere can we go where she does not go along

Nowhere can we flow where the melody misplaces the song

Nothing can invalidate her, nothing can replace her 

It is the beauty of the breath – we can only embrace her

The effortless grace found in the interweaving fabric of life

The dark turning to light, before again the day turns into night 

The mysterious puzzle, something to behold, we cannot solve her

It is the power and the wonder of the breath – let us involve her

Yes, in the end, as it was in the beginning – let us involve her

 

Meanwhile...

So many reasons to be in fear in this world. So many more to know peace.

Worry washes over you like a rainstorm without cover

So many slings and arrows – you take yet another

Crimes of the past haunt dark crevices of the mind

When all you needed was gentility – soft, sweet, and kind

Knocking on the head, post-trauma appears to never end

When all you wanted was the voice of a true and trusted friend

We crash hard – if not into fate, then into our own denial 

Even though so many other realities arise … meanwhile …

 

Meanwhile the sun rises in the east and sets in the west

Meanwhile the moon signals a time for peace and rest

Meanwhile the earth keeps spinning, bringing opportunities at every turn

Meanwhile the stars keep shining, an eternity impossible to discern

Meanwhile the perfection of karma, ensures all promises are kept

Meanwhile you carry on … taking the next indicated step

 

The world is unfair, just like it’s intended to be

Forcing us to search for our transcendent destiny

The sojourn can be arduous, the pathway often steep

We pray to our Lord … for our souls to keep

And if we look skyward, we shall never be let down

We pray to our Lord …for our souls to be found

Though bodies and buildings collapse – ash to ash, dust to dust

We climb the stairway before us, taking the actions that we must

So many reasons not to laugh, dance, sing or smile

Even though so many other realities arise … meanwhile …

 

Meanwhile …  Meanwhile …

 

Not to diminish all of the sorrow and all of the pain

Nor the hits your hummingbird heart must constantly sustain

Yet to recognize and celebrate the existence of another side

One whose perfect presence we need not ever hide

The presence of light, levity, brevity, certainty, and love

The presence of every angelic guide reflecting from above

The presence of our daily bread, taking care of our basic needs   

The presence of prayer to the Lord, for our souls to be freed

So much to be seen as bad, wrong, and indifferent … all the while

Even though reasons, infinite, give us cause to pause … meanwhile

 

Meanwhile the sun makes its journey, all the way from east to west

Meanwhile the moon reminds us of our nightly needs to rest

Meanwhile the earth keeps spinning, round and round evermore 

Meanwhile the stars keep shining, urging us towards heaven’s door

Meanwhile your beauty, truth and heart can never be denied   

Meanwhile you carry on … with a view of the other side 

Hello Friend

Ah, relationships in their many forms… how shall we greet them today…

A cat meanders through the door during a yoga class 

A dog approaches you on the couch, paws upon a lap

On a stroll outside, a hummingbird speeds by through the air

A trip to the zoo, every imaginable creature living there

Sharing a globe with the animals, in the wild and in the pens 

The depth and beauty of a boy’s and girl’s best friend

Hello friend, hello friend

How are you today, how have you been?

Oh, the grandeur of relationships … how shall we greet them today?

What words come to mind, what is there to say?

For the barista working hard to prepare that right drink for you

For the waiter and waitress placing orders for your chosen food

For the loved one in partnership, making this circle of love complete

For the man, woman and child simply passing by on the street 

As in the beginning, and then all throughout life, until the end

As we hold this sacred heart – in order to offer, share, heal or mend

Hello friend, hello friend

How are you today, how have you been?

How are you? What is new? What can we do?

With this life – to make it matter, to make it real, to make it true?

We welcome the morning, with a bow, a prayer, a knowing nod

We embrace the universe, the angels, the spirit guides, and God

As in the myriad of classic books we store upon the shelves

We see within others as we see within ourselves 

Husband, father, son, mother, daughter, wife

If you lived strictly on your terms, you may have missed out on life

Yet if you found the free, dancing energy encircling, you were indeed blessed

In-between the give and take: a mind at peace, a soul at rest 

There is nothing that can make this existence any clearer or dearer

Than learning to appreciate, love and honor the one looking back in the mirror

And so, what words come to mind, what is there to say?

Ah, the wonder of relationships … how shall we greet them today?

The pets, the patrons, the clients, coworkers, bosses and more

The random humans we bump into at the soccer field, bank or store

The ones who have held us up as perfect, the ones who made us all wrong

The inner self that has beaten us up for so long

The ones who challenged us, the ones who made everything a flow

A dear friend dog or a cat … peeking around a corner … hello 

We faithfully take a stand for a totality of life we can finally defend

As we reframe everyone as companion, searcher, Child of God and friend

How are you today, how have you been?

Hello friend, hello friend

Hello friend, hello friend

A Eulogy for My Dad Who Passed One Year Ago

 

For my dad.

Who passed away one year ago to this day.

March 15, 2021.

For my dad.

I just want to come along here and say how much I love him.

I love him still.

Of course. 

When I was growing up, it was pretty much common for us to talk about the other worlds, the other realities, the higher realms, not just the physical world but the spiritual world … as if these realms were as available as going outside of a house. Because of this, the idea that I would not still love him or have a relationship with him or be close to him is ludicrous.  

We had many, many psychic and metaphysical experiences that would become commonplace.

It was not outside the realm of reality to be able to have a psychic connection, speak without words, speak even with the physical distance. We had many experiences.

One of my favorites involved a friend of mine from high school back in 1981. In a conversation about her in our kitchen around 10 p.m., my father and I were silently attempting to connect with her, secretly wondering if she would call at this time. Now, having never called me before or after at my house, it would be impossible that Isabel would call at this late hour. What would be even more impossible would be her saying right after I answered the phone: “You have to stop thinking of me; I have to get some sleep.”

Oh, my dad.

He also loved to tell the story of Leviticus 5. He would talk of the time he was in deep prayer requesting an answer to the quandary regarding the world's cultural problems and environmental messes. He took a nap and awoke with the thought “Leviticus 5.” He knew which Bible to go to in order to see what it said. At the top of the page were the words: “Remove Unconscious Pollution.”

My dad told a lot of stories. And he knew he repeated a lot of them. I knew he knew because he shifted the way he would start one of those repeats. It went from “Did I ever tell you the time …”  to “Hey, I told you the time that …” Now even though he had told the story previously, it would not mean that he wouldn’t retell it. He loved his stories. I think they comforted him. They brought him joy.

He did enjoy certain aspects of life...

• The trips with the family in the summer months, to the likes of Sea World, Knotts Berry Farm, Marineland and Disneyland.
• His family … though he would most likely not tell any of us directly but brag to others outside of the family. 
• The rooting on of the Rams, Red Wings, Tigers, Lions, Dodgers, Lakers, Angels. 
• The “picks” where he would enroll all the family members to guess which football teams would win each week. 
• The lottery and trips to Vegas, and his winnings there. 
• His bowling and the winning there. 
• The dining outings with his wife, my mother. 
• His meditation and the peace that came from this practice. 
• The Home Prairie Companion radio show, and all the cassette tapes he’d make of that show plus the talk shows that touched on the political and the metaphysical. 
• The talks about the synchronicities in life.  
• His work with Farmers Insurance when he got to use his intuition to work in the Fraud Department.
• His work in helping to uncover the murderer of a daughter of famous author Lois Duncan. 
• The adventure of investigating the mysteries of the untold.  

Over his life he would dig into a few of those “conspiracy theories” that weren’t really “theories” but coverups he had to uncover. I think he had to do such research just to be released from the rotten emotions that arise when you are being lied to. 

The JFK murder was his big one. I was 19 days old when JFK was assassinated in broad daylight publicly, in Dallas, Texas. That would mean for my entire life I would be taught two major lessons:

1. Do not trust the government or the media.  
2. Search for your own truth.

Now, even with his inspiring and uplifting times, there were certain aspects of life he didn’t seemed to like. He hated conflict, any kind of conflict.

He so disliked conflict that he would eat the wrong food that was mistakenly served to him at restaurants. He didn’t like taking too long in a drive-thru since he didn’t want to take up other people’s time. He couldn’t stay for the ending of those real nail-biters of sports games; too much to take! He also freaked out a bit about having a Christmas tree in his trunk on the way home from the lot, thinking some calamity might happen. Not sure what bad could befall Christmas trees in trunks. But he was concerned about it.  

With all his fears and concerns, the amazing thing was how much faith he still held. He knew the good was so much bigger than any bad. It was a faith built on experience; a faith built on spiritual connection. At one point in late 1959, he had no clue what would happen after losing his job and learning that his wife was expecting their first child. He would think “How is this going to work?” 

But he knew it would work out, and with his famous phrase “The universe is perfect,” things would fall into place for him. As they would for his family for as long as they are family. 

My dad.

This was written for my dad.

He is the most generous man I’ve ever met. He gave without needing anything back. And he gave even without the need to feel good about giving. It was just that natural for him. The most selfless person I know.

Last year, we would have no service for him. I’m sure that’s how he would have it. No big fanfare. No big presentation or focus. 

It would be enough to continue with this never-ending, always-expanding life, discovered in the higher realms, beyond the physical, of which he already knew, so well. 

It would be enough to have lived a life, living on his terms, embracing his beliefs as he did, cheering on his teams, picking his picks, watching from a distance the progress of his children, telling his stories, and leaving behind a legacy of three blessed ones, who he just wanted to be happy. 

On so many levels, I am happy.

But I wouldn’t have that happiness, nor have this drive, nor this identity as a searcher, if it weren’t … for my dad.

My dad.

I love my dad.

The House That We Called Home

The new owners of my childhood home are very sweet people. In February 2022, in honor of my parents' birthdays, my wife and I took a trip to Huntington Beach and got to walk through the newly upgraded house on Cambay Lane. I choose to write the below for the new family members so they had some history on a home that will always mean the world to me. 

Oh yes, so many memories. Honestly, too many to list.  

Really, it was a simple house, on a regular street, with friendly neighbors and an innocent childhood. At least that’s what it looked like from my point of view. 

It’s the house on Cambay – 15422 – where I grew up.

My folks – Jim and Patricia Ellis - bought the home in 1962, one of the original owners on this street. My dad used to tell the story how he wasn’t even interested in purchasing a home when he was invited by some friends to take a tour of a new housing track in Huntington Beach. Though he went along with a couple of friends just for the ride, my father would be the only one to purchase a house on this track, locking in an at-the-time whopping 30-year loan for a monthly mortgage payment half of your what you'd pay for a car today. 

By the time they moved to Huntington Beach from Redondo Beach, by way of Detroit Michigan, they would be bringing with them a daughter, Mary Lynn, who was two years old at the time. I would show up a little over a year later in November 1963. And another sister, Kathy, would make her appearance in August 1965.

This would be the home for these five Ellises. After originally setting in, my parents would live here for the rest of their lives – my mother up until 2014 at the age of 82 and my father up until 2021 at the age of 93.

In between there would be a lifetime of memories, ups and downs, joys and sorrows, personal growth, and family love.

• The wonderful Cambay block, with neighbors who knew each other’s name up and down the lane, with the children who would have fun with games on the Ellis’ front lawn, standing in as a baseball diamond, track and field arena or football field, after the parents’ call to action: “go outside and play.”  
• The same field where I would get knocked out after hitting my head on Mary jo’s knee, and where Keith would break his leg and then crawl all the way home when we didn’t believe he was really hurt. 
• The front yard where the white light pole would be claimed to be the “free” base during hide and seek games.
• The front yard that had bushes and plants and white rocks in front of the house, in a distant memory, before the clearing and arrival of the cement truck in 1973.
•  The house that saw many, oh so many, a sporting events on TV, where neighbor Dan would walk over those Sundays to catch the latest LA Rams game. 
• The rounds of “catch” in the backyard as sister Kathy honed her softball pitching skills, with more than a few times of having to ask the neighbors on either side, “Hey, can you throw our ball back?” 
• An avocado tree back there, planted by me from just an avocado pit I threw into the ground, while helpful neighbors told me it wouldn’t grow, and if it did, it wouldn’t produce any fruit. 
• The bags and bags of avocados we would have to give away, since we’d be overloaded with such a hefty harvest. 
• The avocado tree that would be taken down, per my mother’s directive, after I moved from Cambay Lane. 
• The farmers field that went for miles just beyond our backyard fence, and tractors that would plow along every now and then, preparing way for the likes of lima beans. 
• The fence we’d look over towards the northeast so we could watch on as Disneyland had its nightly fireworks show in the summer. 
• Mom doing her garden back there, before the arthritis took it away. 
• The O'Keefe and Merritt oven with the light that would be used to help mom trace our countries for our book reports … since we waited until after dark, missing out on the chance to trace it over a sunlit window.  
• And of course, Rags our dog, Fidrych our bird, one hard-to-catch Chinchilla, and then the dozens of cats Lucy, Nicky, Ragamuffin, Blackie, and the litters born in Kathy’s closet. 
• The end-of-the-year holidays that somehow were routinely accompanied by the annual colds, soothed only by rest, soup and more rest. 
• The holiday celebrations – colored ribbons around the poles separating the dining room, and the Christmas trees in the living room, where Kathy and I once announced we’d remain there so we could catch a glimpse of Santa Claus.
• The hilarious Halloween when all of us were too shy to answer the door to trick-or-treaters, providing the way for the loudest, longest and perhaps scariest laughing attack.
• The Thanksgiving dinners – starting in the dining room, and then on subsequent Thanksgivings spilling over into the living room where we’d be accompanied by the Cowboys and the Lions.  
• The living room that was somehow the sleeping quarters for everyone but me – ma on the couch, Kathy on another couch, dad in one chair, Mary Lynn in another chair and niece Emily nestled somewhere on the floor. 
• The times the family practiced the sounds of silence, unable to bridge gaps of misunderstanding and miscommunication – resulting in a hole in a door … or two. 
• And on the other side of the pendulum – two sacred weddings, one in 1987 with Mary Lynn and Michael in the back yard, and the other me and my wife Jennifer in 2012 – just me, her, a minister, my dad and my bed-ridden mother. 

So many memories. Too many to count actually. But reside they do … and reside they will. Forever. 

They will be there because we were all able to live and grow, in a wonderful neighborhood, on a picturesque street, and within a house we called our home.

15422 Cambay. May it continue to be blessed … and may it be a blessing for families, friends and memories to come. 

 

The Greatest Impact Of All

Driving one day, I thought of how much I loved some of those I have lost, and how much this world seemed so meaningless compared to the truth underneath it all. I pictured the impact that politicians and Hollywood stars have on our lives, and then juxtaposed that against the impact of true friends and family. I just had to laugh and start envisioning a piece of prose...

The ultimate, the highest, the greatest impact of all 
It is not found upon this planet, so very small  
The building of Atlantis was really no big deal 
With everything now underwater, even pillars of steel
Pyramids still stand, yet they bring power in from the sky
Indeed, where is the value from birth until we die?
Where do we point towards a great influence, a grand plan?
Could it even originate from what is built by woman or man?
Arenas for epic competitions hold the theater of the day
We watch on through commercials to see the grown men play  
News and entertainment are fed to us, hungry lizards that we are
Towers fill downtowns, a great wall visible from the stars    
And yet, another invincible skyscraper could surely stumble and fall
What is the ultimate, the highest, the greatest impact of all? 
 
Like the off-key found on an out-of-tune song
A loved one collapses, breaks a hip, and is too soon gone 
A loving pooch must be put to rest on the saddest, saddest day
There are no words for such heartache, there is nothing really to say 
A void remains where once grace promised it would last 
Earthquakes of loss leave buildings and bodies burned – ash to ash
So where is the worth; why do we live; what is the use?
God’s mysterious way? God’s secret will? Just another damn excuse 
But carry on, I guess we shall, I guess we must 
Looking for purpose through the trouble and rubble – dust to dust
Those making the rules, control the masses and wield all the power
As politicians rise, the populace divides, reacts, attacks, and cowers
Until the pendulum swings, and the people remember the silent call
Perhaps from the ultimate, the highest, the greatest impact of all
 
It is born of creation, as below so it is from above 
Forever to come from the source that is love
It is born of creation, as below so it is from above 
Forever to come from the source that is love
 
It is love my friend; it is love that ushers in all the meaning
Giving presence and life to every single human being 
From a foundation of rock, invisible to the naked eye
To the building of a true home … a haven in the sky
The infinite discovered as we pull on that inner thread
Dipping down into the heart, moving away from the head 
Entertained not by actors feigning passion, as in a show
But rather amused by family and friends who we truly know
No sports trophies or academy awards hold any value now
No standing ovation, no curtain call, no curtsy or bow
Just eternal sweet memories that gently float on by
Just the halo aura bright and the glimmer in the eye
In a Garden of Eden after genesis and before the fall 
Now we come to embrace the absolute, the greatest impact of all 

Born of creation, as below so it is from above 
Forever to come from the source that is love
Forever to be seen from spirit’s highest view
Where no one and nothing dies, and where everything is new
Where towers are not built on sand, but on a steadiness sublime
Where powers do not come from man, but from the sacred divine
The true celebration, the force from above 
Forever to flow from the source that is love

Final Reunion

After a poignant conversation with my wife about our dearly loved pet Hennessy, and the loss experienced there, I had this sense of longing for reunion. I imagined being able to run towards each other again and remain there. Is there such a reality where we never have to part with loved ones? 

A farewell song as we all march along

Once a waltz, a dance, a chance to move from me to we  

Now walking aimlessly in the street

So incomplete

Kneeling, a heart bleeding for thee

Looking skyward as the rain thumps down

Tears mixing with drain water on the ground

You were here, but now you’re gone

A final goodbye as I move along 

Alone

Desperate for the memory of union

Searching for … the final reunion

We laughed, we played, we knew the way

We talked about nothing, and it made sense

Jokes made at our own expense

It didn’t matter – nothing that we could say

Could ever take away

Or replace 

That which we held sacred every day

Only death, the final farewell

The veil, the curtain, hiding heaven and hell

Stripping us of our home in union

Destroying all hope in a final reunion

The final reunion

The last time we have to part

The final reunion

The backtrack to the very start

The final reunion

No more leaving, no more grieving

The final reunion

No doubt remains in our believing

You run back to me as in a dream

It’s just like it has always been

A dance, a chance

For love’s curtain call … a call for faithful stance

Like a puppy greeting the wayward traveler at the door

I rush eagerly towards the love of my life

I recall what this love and this pain are for

The loss, the longing, the union

The cost, the belonging, the reunion

The sweetest of reunions

One that is, alas, final – the last of its kind

As we reunite in heart, soul, and mind

Finally knowing what was yours and ours … is mine

As everything dissolves in the mist of space and time 

In a final rhyme 

A farewell song as we all sing along

Now a grand waltz, a dance, a chance to truly see 

Now joining in celebration in the streets

Whole and complete

Kneeling, in prayer, a heart open to thee