John Calvi Notes

Goodness Workshop Feb 4 Wellesley MA

2012-01-16T08:53:00.000-08:00

Dear All,

An invitation to a workshop I'll offer next month. Thanks, John

John Calvi
calvij@sover.net
www.johncalvi.com

Goodness with John Calvi  

A One day Workshop at Wellesley Friends Meeting 

Saturday February 4, 9:30 - 3:30

This day will include simple energy work for healing, a life chart to explore lessons thus far, and deep relaxation for cleansing. That's how we will deepen our understanding of the self for deeper spiritual life by using wonder and deep relaxation. Gathering the sense of our own goodness is key to deeper spiritual life. The growing of gifts, sensing a call, making compassion pragmatic- all shine more brightly with a clearer sense of our goodness and how we are aspects of the Divine, the fingers and breath of the Light. Wellesley Friends Meeting 26 Benvenue St. Wellesley MA 02482

781/237-0268. More info - http://www.bhfh.org/qsp/

John Calvi's Year End Letter 2011

2011-12-02T09:45:00.000-08:00

2011 Year End Letter – John Calvi

Dear Friends,

It’s been a year full of wonderful invitations and good work. I’ve been welcomed into beautiful teaching opportunities all across country. And for this I am very grateful. A life’s work is a gift to keep learning, more and better.

I began my work of healing trauma in 1982 and began to receive invitations to travel and teach in 1985. For me it’s been a study in reverence and self-disciplines that has taken a reluctant student and mercifully shaped a teacher and healer. A gift for releasing pain is useful for many different kinds of hurt.

Among the wonderful invitations this year, was to speak to a gathering of North American Quakers on healing America by ending torture. It’s available here -
http://www.quakerbooks.org/to_go_where_there_is_no_light.php

In many ways this felt to be a culmination of 30 years work with torture survivors and as founding convener of The Quaker Initiative to End Torture. I recommend this to you as representing an essence of my life’s work. There is also a recording of a radio interview on healing and torture here-
http://www.northernspiritradio.org/index.asp?command=showinfo&showid=569667511687

This has also been a year when friends in need have been plentiful. I am not a primary care person, but often I am helping a dozen people to transition in their dying or healing of trauma. Much good work has also happened here.

2012 also has some great invitations. I’ll be speaking to Pacific Yearly Meeting August in California. My calendar is enclosed. I hope to see many of you in the coming year. This is another joy built into this particular life’s work.

It’s almost 30 years now since I began to live mainly on gifts. I can’t say it’s always been smooth, nor easy in today’s economy. Your kindness has been key to my being out in the world working. Your help makes it possible for me to continue. I am asking you to help now again, to keep me, and my work, on the road. In the Light, John Calvi

PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346 www.johncalvi.com calvij@sover.net
John Calvi’s 2011Completed Calendar
February 1-2 Senate Meetings with Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT Washington DC
March 11-13 Powell House – Peace Within, Goodness Throughout workshop Old Chatham, NY
March 20 New Orleans Friends Meeting – QUIT Update New Orleans, LA
April 1-3 Guilford College Sexuality workshops - QUIT Update Greensboro, NC
April 3-4 Durham Friends Meeting Goodness workshop & Sessions Durham, NC
April 4-5 Raleigh Friends Meeting Goodness workshop & Sessions Raleigh, NC
May 6-8 Pendle Hill Washed in the Light by Tender Hands workshop Wallingford, PA
July 3-9 Friends General Conference Evening Plenary –American Torture Grinnell, IA
July 15 Vermont People with AIDS Coalition Retreat workshops Stowe, VT
August 6-11 New England Yearly Meeting workshops, journal readings Smithfield, RI
October 7-9 St Louis Friends Meetings workshops, QUIT Update St Louis, MO
October 18 Queens College Social Studies Teachers Seminar- American Torture New York, NY
October 31 – Nov 1 Dragonfly Transitions workshops Klamath Falls, OR
November 4-6 Quaker Center The Goodness workshop Ben Lomond, CA

John Calvi’s Incomplete Partial Calendar for 2012 – (as of December 2011)
February 4 Quaker Studies Program Goodness workshop Beacon Hill Mtg Boston, MA
March Doylestown Friends Meeting QUIT Update Doylestown, PA
May 18 – 20 Pendle Hill Healing Wallingford PA
July 1 – 7 Friends General Conference workshops Kingston, RI
July 20 VT People w/Aids Coalition workshops stress reduction Stowe, VT
August 4 – 9 New England Yearly Meeting workshops Smithfield, RI
August 13-18 Pacific Yearly Meeting Plenary Walker Ranch Petaluma, CA
November 6 – 8 Powell House Healing Hands Healing Self Old Chatham, NY

PLEASE SEND A GIFT TO MY ADDRESS BELOW, THANKS!
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed. A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as –
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.
P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

Goodness Workshop Quaker Center Ben Lomond CA

2011-10-21T13:49:00.000-07:00

I'll be teaching at Quaker Center in Ben Lomond, CA Nov 4-6. This is the Goodness workshop and it's a good way to deeply relax and learn more of your own goodness - http://www.quakercenter.org/programs/goodness-workshop/

QUIT Nov Consultation CANCELLED

2011-10-16T20:41:00.000-07:00

The QUIT Consultation November 11 & 12 2011 in Durham NC has been postponed due to lack of response. Future activities will be posted.

New Recordings

2011-07-20T05:54:00.001-07:00

Dear Friends,

I recently gave a plenary on American Torture at a national Quaker conference. This talk was recorded and is now available. It is an mp3 audio file called To Go Where There is No Light. I discuss America’s use of torture and the Quaker Initiative to End Torture's (QUIT) call to end it.

To hear a preview of the talk, go to-

www.fgcquaker.org/gathering/social-media/john-calvi.

To purchase the whole talk as an mp3 audio file go to-

http://www.quakerbooks.org/to_go_where_there_is_no_light.php

Also – here is a link to a radio interview I did in July on Healing and Torture with Northern Spirit Radio-

http://www.northernspiritradio.org/index.asp?command=showinfo&showid=569667511687

The FGC plenary mp3 file is $5. The radio interview is free to download, but a CD is $10. The money goes to these organizations- not to me or The Quaker Initiative to End Torture – QUIT!

I think both turned out well and I hope you will share this news with friends.

Thanks, John

27th Beethoven Letter 2011

2011-06-20T05:41:00.000-07:00

The 27th Beethoven Letter by John Calvi

Dear Friends,

I am still here, still on the road, still at work – not brave so much as stubborn and happy for it all.
I am seeking your support to stay at work. As many of you know, my life work has been to help heal trauma as a certified massage therapist and a Quaker healer with a spiritual gift for releasing pain. I’ve been at work on this now since 1983- that’s 28 years of experience, travel, and seeking on behalf of survivors of all manner of hurt. First I learned about the rape crisis and did lots of work with survivors. And I still do since the sexually abused constitute the largest group of wounded on the planet. Next I did lots of work in the AIDS epidemic, even before we had the word AIDS or knowledge of transmission. Then I began work with refugees who had survived torture and inmates and others. A very busy 28 years (stories on my website) & I’m only 59 in May!

As my calendar shows, I am often on the road teaching by invitation to places and topics diverse and important. The healing of trauma is vast and I am a devoted tho slow learner. Sometimes I can help make small changes. Sometimes I can help make large changes. The gift that comes through me tends to be a gentle quiet shift to peace and calm and new understanding. This may not seem like much to many, but for someone who’s survived the worst that can be imagined- it’s a very large gift indeed. Calm for any survivor is very good medicine. A break from despair and glimpsing a future with less pain has power. Sometimes a change is larger than I have words for.

In 2005, I gathered with five other Quakers to form The Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT! We have been engaged in education- informing people that US torture abroad hasn’t ended and has migrated to prisons at home. This too is my work and a leading that has given me much Light to continue, even though it’s burden is great. I still learn pacing and disciplines to be at my best. Even my husband Marshall Brewer after 25 years together says sometimes I don’t work too much.

Imagine such a thing- I have been able to travel and teach and get my hands on many people each year because of the support that comes from people who’ve seen this work and understand it’s important that it continue. I didn’t know I was going to live and work mainly on gifts. I wasn’t planning on quite this much suspense in my life. Nor do I find a dragging world-wide recession convenient. But I have found that support has come come each year with this letter, enough to go on and say- Yes, I can come teach maybe sometimes even if you can’t pay me because I have help.

There’s one question- Will you help me this year? Will you help me keep on and teach and touch in this time of great need from all corners? Brutality seems to be on an upswing. Compassion seems to be in danger of exhaustion. I work at ground level- a gracious way of saying cheap and easy. I would very much appreciate your kindness and generosity. I would like to stay in the fray and make more years of service. Can you help me please? I would like to be of use and I’m good at helping. And there is so much good that needs doing. Here we go again this year, are you with me?

John Calvi

In the Light
April 2011

PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346 www.johncalvi.com 802/387-4789 calvij@sover.net

WWW.JOHNCALVI.COM
New! Engagement dates, photos, journals and writings.
My thanks to Sehoon Ahn & Sean Conley for expertise and generosity.

John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete 2011 Calendar (as of April 2011)

February 1 Senate Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT! Meetings Washington DC

March 11-13 Powell House Peace Within, Goodness Throughout weekend workshop powellhouse.org Old Chatham, NY

March 20 New Orleans Friends Meeting – QUIT Update New Orleans, LA

April 1-3 Guilford College Spirituality & Sexuality, QUIT Update, Staff/Faculty Avoiding Burnout Greensboro, NC

April 3-4 Durham Friends Meeting Goodness Workshop & Individual Sessions Durham, NC

April 5 Raleigh Friends Meeting Goodness & Healing Talk & Individual Sessions Raleigh, NC

May 6-8 Pendle Hill Washed in the Light by Tender Hands weekend workshop pendlehill.org Wallingford, PA

July 3-9 Friends General Conference Evening Plenary – To Go Where There Is No Light- American Torture, Journal Reading, Deep Relaxation workshop, fgcquaker.org Grinnell, IA

July 15 Vermont People with AIDS Coalition Retreat plenary, workshops Stowe, VT

August 6-11 New England Yearly Meeting workshops, QUIT Update Smithfield, RI

October 31 – Nov 1 Dragonfly Transitions avoiding burnout training, deep relaxation sessions
dragonflytransitions.com Klamath Falls, OR

November 4-6 Quaker Center Goodness weekend workshop, QUIT Update quakercenter.org
Ben Lomond, CA

November 12 QUIT Consultation Durham Friends Mtg Durham, NC

PLEASE SEND A GIFT TO MY ADDRESS BELOW, THANKS!
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed.
A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.

P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP!
I need to reduce paper mail to actual live Beethoven Letter readers.
I am happy to keep you on my Beethoven mailing list. Simply send word.
Please help by sending your e-mail address to calvij@sover.net or a postcard.

Meditation for Letting Go

2011-01-11T20:05:00.000-08:00

Here is a meditation I've used over the years to help myself and others let go of a particular difficulty, to stop focusing on the problem, and feel ones true healthy essence. I hope it may be useful.

Rest, Sugar, & Light – John Calvi

I am lying comfortably and relaxed.
Every muscle is resting and still.
Each breath becomes slower and longer and deeper.
I feel my body sink into the floor/couch/bed.
My thoughts slow to listening to my own breathing.
I feel my fatigue and am grateful to be still.
The lines around my eyes relax.
The muscles in my back and shoulders relax.
My jaw relaxes.
My feet are happy to be off duty.
My hands lose their tension and are loose.

Out of the sky falls a light snowfall of sugar.
It falls all over and covers me.
The sugar hardens and forms a coat, a crust.
I am more still and quiet.

Soon, a warm rain falls.
The warm water soaks the sugar.
The warm rains wash the sugar away.
And below the sugar there is only bright Light.
The Bright Light of our essence is all that is left.

I breath and rest as a being of Light still and quiet.

Year End Letter 2010

2010-11-15T10:26:00.000-08:00

Year End Letter 2010– John Calvi

Dear Friends,

A good year of teaching and hands-on work is ending. I am closing in on 30 years of traveling since beginning my healing work in 1982. This year was another layer of time with wonderful invitations to teach about healing from trauma, avoiding burnout during hard work, and the on going task of ending American torture. I’ve been deeply engaged in all three of these works throughout 2010 as you can see by my calendar.

The healing of trauma continues to have great need in our times. Old wounds and new are carried until some safer ground is reached and then the work of inventory begins and hopefully some source of help identified and used well. Then change comes. Similarly, someone exhausted by ones inner work or work in the world faces the challenge of burnout. Again, finding a place of safe sharing and a resource begins the work of unburdening. When wars are raging and the economy is scary and the general tone of media is vitriolic, all tender hearted people wounded by life become more vulnerable, even those we thought to be fearless.

American torture is sometimes mistakenly thought to have been a problem beginning with President Bush and ending with President Obama. In truth, modern American torture began with the formation of the CIA and the decision to study and perfect torture in the late 1940’s. American torture continues today in our prisons abroad and at home, contrary to general media coverage. So the work of ending this continues also.

I’ve more notes on my blog on my website at www.johncalvi.com, please check it out.
Here is a connection to a video of me teaching about American torture for half an hour in Burlington VT this fall. There are no horror stories about torture, though there are some serious questions raised about democracy. I hope you will view and share this-

http://www.cctv.org/watch-tv/programs/burlington-friends-meeting-discussion-john-calvi-quaker-initiative-end-torture

These are particularly difficult times for mercy and compassion. While the needs are greater, a tone of meanness and suspense, including a sense of scarcity, grows within our country and our culture. This can place doubt in our considerations of giving. I want to assure you that my decades of service continue with my personal attention to good care in the deep waters of need and your help is vital.

I am grateful for the years of help I’ve received. It’s meant a life work of compassion and service done in various ways in numerous places. Your help now is needed for all this to continue. Please make a gift. Thank you for all you do.

In the Light,

John Calvi

PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346 calvij@sover.net 802/387-4789 www.johncalvi.com

John Calvi’s Completed 2010 Calendar

March 13 Quaker Initiative to End Torture & Healing Energy Work Meeting School Rindge NH
www.themeetingschool.org
April 17-19 Lake Forest Friends Meeting Retreat Leader Lake Forest IL
June 20-24 Pendle Hill Washed in Light by Tender Hands www.pendlehill.org Wallingford PA
July 4-10 Friends General Conference Abandon All Weariness QUIT Update Bowling Green OH
www.fgcquaker.org
July 16 VT People with AIDS Coalition Deep Relaxation www.vtpwac.org Stowe VT
July 18-24 New York Yearly Meeting QUIT Plenary w/QUNO www.nyym.org Silver Lake NY
August 8-12 New England Yearly Meeting workshops NEYM.org Smithfield RI
September 18 Missoula Meeting QUIT Update, Goodness & Healing workshops Missoula MT
September 20-22 Dragonfly Transitions staff & students workshops Klamath Falls OR
www.dragonflyadventures.com
September 24-26 Quaker Initiative to End Torture 4th National Conference Quaker Ctr Ben Lomond CA
www.quit-torture-now.org www.quakercenter.org
October 3 Pima Meeting Goodness workshop QUIT Update Tucson AZ
October 7 Santa Fe Meeting QUIT Update, Goodness talk Santa Fe NM
October 9 Albuquerque Meeting Healing workshop QUIT Update Albuquerque NM

October 23 Burlington Friends Meeting Talk on Torture & Healing Burlington VT
http://www.cctv.org/watch-tv/programs/burlington-friends-meeting-discussion-john-calvi-quaker-initiative-end-torture

November 16 Taft Institute Annual Seminar for Teachers American Torture Queens College Flushing NY
November 18 QUIT Steering Committee Future Planning Old Chatham NY
November 19-21 Quaker Initiative to End Torture Conference www.powellhouse.org Old Chatham NY

*John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete 2011 Calendar (as of November 2010)*

January 14-16 2011 Eisenhower Anniversary Military-Industrial Complex Warning Healing Torture
www.mic-at-50.net/ Guilford College Greensboro, NC
January 17 2011 Durham Meeting Healing workshop Durham, NC
March 11-13 2011 Powell House – Peace Within, Goodness Thruout powellhouse.org Old Chatham, NY
March 17-20 2011 New Orleans, LA
April 1-3 2011 Guilford College Sexuality and Friends Greensboro, NC
May 6-8 2011 Pendle Hill Washed in the Light by Tender Hands pendlehill.org Wallingford, PA
July 3-16 2011 Friends General Conf Plenary Healing American Torture fgcquaker.org Grinnell, IA
August 6-10 2011 New England Yearly Meeting neym.org Smithfield RI
November 4-6 2011 Quaker Center Goodness workshop quakercenter.org Ben Lomond, CA

PLEASE SEND A GIFT TO MY ADDRESS BELOW, THANKS!
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed.
A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.

P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

On The Road - Work Travel West Sept & October 2010

2010-11-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

On the Road - Montana, Oregon, California, Arizona, & New Mexico Sept 13 – Oct 16 2010 John Calvi

Friday 9/10 Preparations Towards the West
In a few days, I will leave Putney, VT to drive across country to host the 4th Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT at Quaker Center in Ben Lomond, CA September 24-26. I would very much appreciate it if you could during this time hold this effort in the Light and keep this important work in your prayers. It is our hope to begin turning a tide and in time, with much good work, save some lives. Thank you for your every peaceful moment of keeping us in mindful reverence. In gratitude, John Founding convener, QUIT

Sunday 9/12 Packing It All
I’ve been wearing too small underwear for a week and socks that don’t match and shirts with wingspan lapels. Why? Because- I’m going away for a month and have to save all my good clothes for traveling. I got the car checked out. 17” tires cost a lot more then 16” tires. Would never have guessed that extra inch cost so much. And two trips to the Laundromat. And now I’ve chosen favorite luggage, bedding, and cleared my desks of all the traveling parts, and the trunk hasn’t the room for an ant to pee. None. A computer bag, an office bag, a box of handouts, a bedding duffle, 4 suitcases each with 5 days worth of clothes, a shoe bag full of sneakers, a nice clean waste basket full of toiletries, a box of snacks, a lovely leather bag with journal & water colors & stationary & favorite pens & - it just goes on and on. This morning while packing clothes I was doing OK right through t-shirts, sox, underwear, robes, bathing suits, belts, and shoes. Tidy, well chosen, my best, such as it is. But when I got to pants and shirts cracks in my systems broke down for true. I had laid the various suitcases out in the bedroom and was stacking clothes there in piles of 5 days each. The shirts began to confuse me right away. Looking at the suit cases I say to myself- you only need a few in each suit case, a few long sleeve for evenings and a few short sleeve as it’s still warm everywhere you are going. But I’ll probably see snow in Bozeman. Fine. But then I walk across the balcony to the closet and I’m suddenly sure I need to bring my favorite shirts to look my best. So I begin to sort out my shirts by type. Why do I have 25 white shirts? Well, because I don’t like much to choose what I’m going to wear every day at home. So, years ago I adopted a “uniform”- jeans and a white shirt. I get up, I put them on, I don’t have to think about it- simple, tasteful, think 4-H/GAY, a Neanderthal fashion rut. Every time I see a white shirt on sale, it’s mine. Then of course I want to wear my blue shirts cause they bring out my eyes and when you have NO eyebrows because you took after your eyebrow-less mother, anything that sets off the eyes is very good. Besides, I love blue. So, OK the best blue shirts have to come too- the two dress button downs, that fabulous navy silk one. And then of course since I’m going to be in some very warm places I’ll need to bring the linen shirts too- that fabulous blue one, the 5 white short sleeve ones, the 2 or 3 long sleeve ones. And that’s how it went until the suitcases looked like stuffed pigs leaking sleeves and cuffs. I did put a few things back. But then I decided that instead of wearing schlock to drive in and save the good stuff for when I’m teaching, I just had to look like a gentleman while driving. Suddenly white shirts were put into position along with those wonderful silk/linen pants and the stylish Puma sneaks. Yes, I would look the part of a gentleman, a big old queen gentleman with a big black leather purse overstuffed with sunglasses and hankies and cell phone and maps. Marshall watches this like an anthropologist observing a new tribe- what might they be called? Marilynwannabes? Bigolqueensilk&linens? Can’tdecidetakeitalls? I’ve seen Marshall pack for 2 weeks work in Europe in 20 minutes, using one bag, and looking fabulous the whole time, natch. I will schlep enough suitcases for an airliner, wear 1/5 the stuff, and look nearly passable.

How has this happened that I’m going away for just over a month to work in 5 states and driving at least 8,000 miles? Usually I get an invitation to teach and travel for a weekend or a week and then come home. And I often make 20 or more trips a year this way. This was different. First there’s the QUIT conference in Ben Lomond, California. And when I’m out west I like to work at Dragonfly Transitions in Oregon and they are happy to have me whenever I happen to be in the neighborhood. And Marshall was going to have a week vacation at the end of the QUIT conference. Could he join me in California and we go south to see his folks? But that would mean renting a car and buying airline tickets and all this would cost so much, too much. Could I get work on the way going west and coming back east? Yes, 4 Quaker meetings- Missoula, Tucson, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque were very welcoming, way opened.

Monday 9/13 A Visit to Began the Journey
It was difficult to leave Marshall this morning in Putney, sad. A long hug and kiss good-bye only made me want to stay home more. But we both had full days and weeks ahead, cooking hot on the front burner, so off we went, he to his college and me to the interstate. I went over 400 miles today and the last person I saw driving the speed limit was Marshall.

Late in the afternoon the inter-net map failed to direct me to a retirement home where an old friend now resides. I wandered several towns in the area, having to back track some, stop and ask directions twice, and finally arrived hours late. She is a grand dame in the best sense- scholar, teacher, philanthropist, and pushy old Quaker lady. She had been a great mentor to me. Her recollections of her debut into society are of a time far past.

I was uneasy in making this visit, as I had not seen her since her mind began to leave. It was going to be difficult to see a razor sharp mind and energetic peace worker let out to pasture earlier than others due to mental and physical health. What would my old friend be like when not herself anymore? Would she remember me and us being friends for nearly 40 years?

Partly it was a delight and joy to be with her again- the smart naughty rebel from high society of decades past- still loved a good story, still remembered much of the past, still eager to know what is shaking the world from the bottom up. Her own court case almost made it to the US Supreme Court, but for the lawyer who choose the wrong defense, as she told him beforehand.

But the visit was also sad. Here she was hobbled, no short-term memory, easily tired and lacking intellectual vigor, and in one single room with a half dozen antiques. Her many rooms house gone now. Her charge into justice and peace work halted. Her finances, at one time lush, are now taken up with doctors and medicines and aides in an old people’s rent- a come down for true. And while she puts on a brave face and says how grateful she is for this and that, it’s clear that she is feeling somewhat demeaned by how life is turning out. She is well enough to feel how the diminishment has been sudden and without choice, though done as gracefully as possible. I tell her the best stories I can think of to make her laugh. She remembers more than I expected though she also covers well, pretending to remember sometimes.

The visit is a mix. I love seeing her again and what is still vital. It’s also sad, because she did not want a dotage. She wanted to work and struggle and help until it was over. Now she spends a lot of time sitting by the window.
Back in the car for another couple of hours going west. I sup in a bar with a sports network blaring and the guys at the bar doing regular guy talk. It reminded me of the years growing up with my father and older brothers and how utterly boring straight white boys can be when there is only talk of cars and football- yawn, yawn. I learned from two uncles that there was such a thing as a life of the mind where one wondered and sought to know more and understand how things are connected. My mentors have been seekers with great intellect who worked to untie the knots of pain and confusion in the world in various ways- strong minds, large compassion, disciplined and graceful- that has been a great gift, Light showing a way.

Thursday 9 September The Best Case

I suppose it began with the daydreams of running away. I dreamed about what I’d take with me, some sparse collection of things I could carry, and what would I put them in. That’s when containers first interested me- the sack, the suitcase, the large basket, the leather bag. When I left home at 18, I had an old wicker basket my grandmother had repaired with a piece of clothesline. And that was it. Soon, as I traipsed about from rent to rent while working in the bowels of Yale University’s Science Hill, I had a backpack and a very large basket that carried all my clothes- even when I lived in that first VW bus.

Then old suitcases began to show up, mostly Samsonite. One would appear and felt as though it would speak to me of a trip I was about to take, though I didn’t know it. I had about 20 of them and a traveling work before I gave most of them up to an AIDS auction.

It was maybe a decade later that my real addiction began to show- leather bags. It was a yard sale in Boulder, Co. A woman was selling a small leather backpack that was made of beautiful supple brown leather. I loved the feel of it and how it collapsed when empty and was so beautiful when full. Now I have a dozen leather bags and my favorite kind of trip is where I can pack all of them and load the car with them.

This makes no sense, least of all to me. I can’t even imagine what could have happened in a former life to make packing into beautiful leather bags such an extreme delight. It’s somehow akin to playing with Barbie dolls or trucks in the sand box for that matter- some object is infused by it’s possessor with a projection making it important beyond measure and thereby giving great joy. I do something similar with Joni Mitchell music, antique cars, and fine writing paper.

And now I am about to drive away for a month, enjoy several climates, and will need to dress for both work and play and heat and cold. Eh, viola- numerous leather bags are necessary. Today I packed 3 leather shave kits to go into 3 leather suitcases- all second hand found in numerous thrift shops across the land. I’ll probably use the small brown garment bag- good for a few shirts and pants, and the large black garment bag- good for a week of clothes with room for shoes and towels. Plus one more so that I can pack 3 bags for 5 days of clothes- I’ll probably use that oversized doctor’s bag- tan with long loop handles. Then a shoe bag- the big red tote with snaps that will hold more shoes than I own and a bag for jackets- sport coat, silk bomber, denim jacket and another to hold linens and pillows and blankets. There’s that great oversized black brief case for the laptop and other electricals. Other itinerant teachers/preachers worry about what they’ll say. What I’ve been given to teach is more certain in me than my bones. And so I am left wondering if I choose the best cases for this trip.

Tuesday 9/14 Best Parts
A favorite part of driving cross-country is the large open space where one's mind can wander. One is away from all routine and schedule. I love to have some time with no music, all the windows open, and just allow thoughts to blow through. I began preparing a plenary speech this morning as I drove through the Alleghany Mountains. The views of open wide valleys and long ridges were beautiful. And soon the landscape opens up to the wide beautiful farmland of Ohio. Saw several Amish carriages this day- it made me drive slower and wonder about life at such a pace as a horse and wagon. I wondered about old friends whereabouts unknown and how some news on neurology might be part of my understanding of torture, particularly sexual abuse. I saw many barns over the last 800 miles and find I like the old stone barns best. But if I ever build a dream house, it will be a wooden barn, grand and simple.

Hosted in Ohio this night by a friend who gives excellent hospitality- this is a gift that is so special on the road. She's made a small cottage house into a whirl of color and beautiful spaces and full gardens and a kitchen bursting with wonderful foods for catering and friends. And the rescue animals feel safe and loved here, as do I. She's made a life and a home that has all the parts and pieces that causes admiration and delight- a good balance of community, giving/receiving, and well connected/well used. No one would ever know the college chaplain used to be a Harvard professor of the history of science.

Tomorrow 9 hours on the road, more beautiful farmland, avoiding Chicago, and on to Madison. And a visit to 2 men I've never met but have been in touch with for almost 30 years via the Beethoven letter. My car goes too fast sometimes- 90 feels like 60, this is not good. Must learn restraint- at least until I get to bigger states.

Wed 9/15 An Adventure in Madison WI
A hundred years ago in 1981, I decided to leave being a Montessori teacher of young children after 10 years and go to massage school. I put a notice in the gay Quaker newsletter saying I’d appreciate any help. And lo, out of the mid-west came 4 bottles of massage oil from a gay couple. They had begun a business of soaps and lotions and oils and were very kind to me. There was some correspondence over the 30 years but we’d never met or spoken. Now I’d written asking to sleep on their couch as I rocketed through to work in Missoula. More perfect hosts were never known. They met in 1969 and have been partners in romance and business since. They are kind and sweet and fun. They feel like old friends very soon. They make me very welcome and give me a house tour after some visiting on the kitchen terrace overlooking treetops and the city. From the outside, the house looks like a very modern brownstone, a city house mostly vertical. Inside, the core is a stairway that continually brings you to new spaces on new levels. I lose count of the rooms, but it’s one of those houses that is so beautiful that you hear a voice in your head saying- I don’t care what they say, I’m not leaving. The care and attention to detail is beyond what I’ve ever known. I’ll just say that the built-in desk in the guest room is made of onyx- yes child, pure black quartz polished like a mirror. And for one accustomed to peeing outdoors, the guest bathroom with marble sink and granite shower made a lasting impression. Does one visit again with adoption papers in hand?

Friday 9/17 Beauty and the Beast
The Great Plains running across southern Minnesota and through South Dakota are beautiful. I can imagine Black Elk and a large group of Sioux moving along the horizon or great herds of buffalo. The land is so large and seems to go on forever off into the horizon. It is at once intriguing and overwhelming to me. Like the ocean without land, I want to see it and know it but with some sort of tether connecting me to something familiar. It would help to be 20 feet tall or to be able to fly. There is so much to take in and it calls one to go off the main roads and into new places. The scale makes me feel small, very small. It’s a good humbling. In some ways I feel like some gawking Yankee from the tiny, cozy Northeast lost in the spaciousness. The hours of driving pile up into half days and long evenings. The spaces are so much bigger here and the possible stops are few and far between. Doing 90 mph in South Dakota and in the slow lane.

The check engine light came on about 10 PM in the tiniest of towns with another 100 miles to Rapid City South Dakota. Made it fine. Maybe the light is nothing. Closest Saab dealer in Billings MT is 5 hrs away. Car runs fine. Need to get to Missoula by Saturday noon- on I-90 west for Billings, then friends in Bozeman, then Missoula. Car runs fine. How strong is Quaker Light around engine stuff? Pretending not to be anxious.

Sunday 9/19 Mountains, Snow, and Warm Welcome
What are the odds that one can be 2,000 miles in to an 8,000 mile trip, have a serious car repair needed, still able to drive the car before the repair, that the only Saab dealer in 3 states was on the way to my next stop, that they would have the part I needed and the time in their schedule to make the repair, AND I lost no time in my schedule of making 21 stops to teach in 5 states in 33 days? What are the odds? I think maybe a gazillion to one. But that's what happened. Car’s fixed, I'm on schedule, credit card is in shock, and I'm back on the road.

When one is going up a mountain pass and the temperatures suddenly drop and one wonders if the mist is going to be snow and ice at the top- this is a great time to reach into one's big old queen purse and pull out a Liz Chocolate Chip cookie!

A quick overnight in Bozeman where it began to snow as I entered the home of Marshall’s dear childhood friend. She and her husband have made a detailed and scholarly study of the geology, plants, and animals of Yellowstone National Park. They know tons of things about the history going back thousands of years and various stories about people as the land moved from exotic wilderness to a much visited site of awe. They are a delight to be with. I am made very welcome and my bedroom views a range of mountains that are just gathering snow. Yes, they say, I might run into more snow on the top of the “hill” on my way to Missoula- top of the “hill” indeed. In Vermont this would be our highest summit. I try not to take the snow as an insulting form of personal rudeness, but it is only the 3rd week of September for goodness sakes.

I’m now in Missoula and hosted in the most wonderful fashion with a lovely dinner and a great group from Missoula Meeting for 2 workshops + a QUIT Update this afternoon and evening. My host is a newish friend who has always felt like an old friend. Her home is very homey and I’d like to stay longer. So good to be in Missoula again. The welcome here is very warm. Coming from far away as a guest is treated as very special. When I attended North Pacific Yearly Meeting here last year, the setting of the town between peaks with several rivers washing down slopes and valleys seemed a perfect place to settle in from the open Great Plains. I can envision living here easily. And all the good people make it more so.

Missoula Meeting has a small former church in a sweet neighborhood of little ranch houses. The meeting room is almost square with 3 or 4 rows of benches facing in from each wall. The sense of good people meeting reverently is clear in this room with a high ceiling. Friends in the large western states, especially those states of low population, have a more reverent sense of the value each Friend- unlike very crowded brotherly cities where you can't throw a brick without hitting some mainliner. Yearly meetings in the large sparse states can feel more small town than other yearly meetings and this can make for a more intimate personal setting in seeking the way forward. In some ways it's similar with FLGBTQC in that we don't get to have meeting with "our own kind" in a large group until summer gathering or mid-winter. When Gypsy encampments were broken up by locals, the wagons were lead to crossroads and directed to go in multiple directions so as to break up the concentration. They always knew they'd meet later on down the road. But they also knew how precious time together was. There is something in the nature of small groups scattered that reminds us how sparse and fragile life is and how good to be together when we can.

Yes, took some pics with my iPhone but don't know where they disappear to. The phone is new and I haven’t had time to see how it works. I wish I were taking more pics of the wonderful people I meet along the way. Idaho tomorrow.

Monday 9/20
There's been a study in high contrast for me this trip. Certainly in the landscape as I've gone from Vermont to Oregon in a week. But there was also a deep contrasting chasm between two generations of gay men, which was striking and disturbing.

I stayed with 2 gay men in their 60's who met and fell in love 41 years ago. Their love is obvious and their partnership in all things has been a blessing for their professional lives, their community, and all manner of charitable good.

Days later I stayed with friends including a gay man in his 80's. He is in the closet and has had a lifetime of deception. While it may have been obvious to any gay man carefully watching, his family was shocked when he was caught him soliciting sex from a cop in a public restroom last year. There was little mercy for him among friends and family, no understanding that his generation and life among church people in the mid-west made secrecy a necessity and loneliness his constant burden. He married late in life to a woman heart broken and disappointed by losing first a daughter and then a near perfect husband in the prime of his life. She is embittered and carries this with arthritis deforming her hands and feet- a hardening of the emotions, inflexible and a hardening of the joints, inflexible, not an uncommon pairing. He is more bowed and carries his shame like a full load of bricks on his back. But nothing is said as they are mid-west Protestants of a reserve close to their British forebears.

I felt uncomfortable with him. On the one hand I had worked behind the scenes to push for understanding of his condition when news broke. But now seeing him a year after his court time and his attempt to be overly friendly and enthusiastic at my arrival, mostly I am aware and put off the oozing loneliness that pervades wherever his is.

I felt this loneliness too with the uncle I was named after. And as young man after I had some gay community and understood his plight, I made sure to always give him a big hug upon greeting and leaving. But initially his loneliness scared me. And here I was again, put off by the vast loneliness of a guy caught in a mostly boring life of nothing much and his biggest life headline was an arrest and subsequent shame that his secret was no longer secret.

The mercy I had for him was used in his absence with family and friends to help lessen the impact initially. But now face to face months later, I could only be cordial in shared conversation. I am accustomed to pain in others. But this combination of loneliness and shame was disturbing. And I had only a brief chance to see it and then be off. The task of healing such would be exciting work to do together but there is not time and no sense of willingness or possibility- witnessing a car accident and then no first aid sought or offered, ie hell. Blessings on the many generations of silent people who couldn't tell about their love, their rape, their longing, their lost child, their broken heart because the culture is silent on the topic. Maybe I can now give up the idea that I talk too much about anything as I am making up for all these others who never got to say who they are and how they felt. I will continue my personal opera to say quite loudly who I am and how it feels and take the consequences as ribbons offered from a species still learning how to live after all this time. By the way there is no direct route from Missoula MT to Klamath Falls OR but the scenery is gorgeous!

Monday 9/20 Best Travel Day
It was a perfect day completely all day today. First- my favorite playlist of personal favorites of Joni Mitchell was restored this morning to my iPod so my favorite traveling music was available. And it was a gorgeous day. And I only had to drive 250 miles. And the young man pumping gas into my car was handsome and was longing for a trip like mine to go far away. And I drove through desert and then abundant farm fields in south central Oregon. And the sky, sun, and clouds were beautiful and lush all day. And the landscape was extreme and beautiful and kept changing. And I had the best Bacon Cheese Burger at the Burger Queen in Lake something Oregon. And am now happily ensconced in my favorite cousins home here to work at his treatment center for young adults- Dragonfly Transitions. Tonight he told me I was one of 3 adults who mattered most in his growing up life- so good to have that love returned. His were the first diapers I ever changed. And now he and his wife have built a center that succeeds in saving lives of young people who are in last ditch efforts. It’s great to be of use here. Next weekend is the QUIT conference that I've been planning with others for the past year- finally the time has come! I love talking shop with this cousin- how might so and so be helped? My hands are already getting warm. Yes, it's very dangerous to drive and take photos of the landscape when one is driving near cliffs and scaring yourself and everyone in cars around you, very dangerous. I got some good shots.

Wednesday 9/22
Two days at a treatment center for young adults with addictions and other mental health issues and I got my hands on 15 people and taught anti-burnout work to a dozen staff. So good to visit a place over the years and watch it grow and the great welcome and anticipation of good things coming help the work to go smoothly. Mostly the young people needed deep relaxation, a break in the patterns of anxieties and depression. Energy work is surprisingly good at this. Hands-on work with staff was also very good. I love working with therapists. They carry a difficult witness, knowing so much intimacy, so many secrets shared. They need a special space to rest and feel only themselves and lay down the intake. Although the details and particulars are different with each person, in general, everyone has pain of some sort and everyone is in need of some extra help once they slow down enough to have some stillness and get more honest when there is a good possibility of relief in sight. Once relief is felt then some hope may be restored that more relief can be had, learned, stocked up for getting down the road. I am looking for everyone to have a good ride, a better ride- since we are going on the ride anyway, we might as well make it a good ride. Our lives are the masterpieces of all our efforts. And more Light makes for better rides. I'm so happy to be a big old queen with this life work- much work & much Light, what more might a Quaker want?

Now in California heading south to fetch Scilla Wahrhaftig of Pittsburgh, PA AFSC & Chuck Fager of Quaker House in Fayetteville, NC as the work horses of the steering committee of QUIT - The Quaker Initiative to End Torture from the airport Thursday afternoon and go on to Quaker Center in Ben Lomond, CA. After a year of planning, we come together for the 4th QUIT conference.

Sunday 9/26 The 4th QUIT Conference at Quaker Center in Ben Lomond CA
Thank you for all your notes and for holding the QUIT conference in the Light. The conference was excellent! All 4 presenters outdid themselves in presenting current information from their fields. Terry Kupers, author of Prison Madness, gave us clear information about how the use of torture in American prisons results in deformed people unable to live as whole humans. Fr Roy Bourgeois explained the history of the School of the Americas and the torture training for more than 60,000 Latin American military and police that continues. Scott Horton, lawyer and Harper's magazine writer of the No Comment column, explained the legal context in which Obama not only continues Bush policies but in some instances makes things worse regarding torture. And Hector Aristizabal, Columbian torture survivor and therapist, showed us how movement and play can help us integrate all the information and subsequent emotions after learning so much about torture. California has good and active groups working against torture and we heard of several actions taken in recent years- everything from clown protests to legislation. Friends from Durham, North Carolina and Bosie, Idaho and Eugene, Oregon along with mostly Californians attended, plus several non-Quakers joined us.

Tuesday 9/28 Rest and Restoration
Marshall was able to schedule a vacation to coincide with the QUIT conference and the week following. He brought 2 cameras and shot all the presentations at the conference- much patience and work. We left Ben Lomond for 2 days at the beach. I am quite tired from the travel and work and the QUIT conference is the culmination of hundreds of hours put in over the last 12 months largely by 3 people with me pushing all along the way. Now to be with Marshall and suddenly without schedule nor public demands is a delight with the Pacific surf pounding in our ears during long walks along the beach and all night long. Long beach walks are really my idea of heaven. Some year I must live at least part of the year where I can take these walks each day. To rest in his arms listening to the surf is a luxury beyond all I ever hoped for and for the level of output I’ve been doing, it’s the balance I need to restore and go on. Elephant seals crowded one beach like a parking lot of fat buses. The beach where we stayed had a continually rolling surf whose sound came in our room day and night like a comfort and cleansing at the same time. We had some long walks along this beach and studied the houses there to see how more and more light could be let in and might it be possible that each room have a beach view. Day dreaming about houses on grand sites is a favorite old pass time of mine. We napped a bit and went slowly. We were both restored with this time in a little quiet beach town to go slowly. Along with being luxury, this is also spiritual discipline because it means I can now do more, lots more.

Friday 10/1 A Short Visit in a Nice Town
John Pixley has a sweet little home in one corner of Claremont, California not far from the Friends Meeting House. Claremont is one of these ideal Southern California towns set up by Ivy League alums from the Northeast with streets like Yale and Harvard. It's beautiful, well governed, and has 5 colleges right smack in the center of town, plus a famous theology school. Two large retirement homes are full of clergy who are still very busy shaking up the world towards justice.

I got to visit John briefly the other day, maybe too briefly. John showed me his new talking machine. It looks to be a life-changing tool creating a better bridge between he and others. It seems almost magical that the tiny bit of silver on the bridge of his glasses directs a cursor on a computer screen to choose words or phrases. He now composes sentences and paragraphs with the careful movement of his head rather than needing to use his entire body towards the effort of clicking one letter at a time on a keyboard. I am only half way good at understanding his speech and when we struck an impasse John seemed to go still, almost trance like, but I soon realized that he was not in prayer for increasing the size of my brain but rather focusing on getting the word or phrase spoken by his Dynavox. It was a treat and made me feel giddy to see this liberation of his "voice", of his mind. It's a delight to be so happy for another's sudden freedom.

Friday 10/1 Going East into the Southwest
Now we've had a few days with Marshall’s folks in southern California and about to leave for Arizona. M will fly home and I will continue on to teach in Tucson, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque. Email has been spotty here- mostly we have to go over to M's sister's house. And we took his dad out to see if his failing eyesight might like to use an E-reader as books and newspapers no longer work well. After several stores and machines, he tried an i-Pad from Apple, which is far and away the best tool for him. As his technology experience is no more than a flashlight, this is not an easy transition. Marshall did a great job of making it all less foreign.

After a few stores I got bored and wandered around. M's 16 year old nephew wandered with me. He is taller than me and built like a large refrigerator. We had a bit of fun when a salesman tried to sell us a Flip camera. I said this was my grandson- well, says the salesman if he does sports this camera would be great to make movies of his team. Well, does it work inside because he'll be doing a ballet concert of dances next weekend. The salesman's surprise, the absurdity of this dumptruck-sized full back in tights, and our bursts of laughter brought the game to a sudden end, but all were laughing. I reminded this nephew that he has to learn to lie better so he and Aunt John can have more fun out in the world. Responsibility for young people is a serious work and I'm so glad others are doing it.

There is something about large long trips that suits me. After the maps have been surveyed for routes and the packing of best things and the vehicle checked and washed and readied, the open road that goes out and a way engages me in ways I can't explain. Maybe some past life of wandering or being held captive makes for this excitement in me now. I'm about to pack up after a few days stay and go to the next stop- there are 21 stops in this 33-day trip. At least that's the plan- all plans should be in pencil, of course. The universe is very busy and can't always accommodate one's best schedule no matter how large the tantrum thrown.

Driving cross-country lets me see how really big the land is and how much it changes. Coming across the Great Plains I recall the memories of this land in Black Elk Speaks. In the Northwest the thick forests remind me of stories of all the great ships and barns built from trees larger than Europeans thought existed. The shapes of the land, the changes in the air and light, and how much land there is without human structures and how the open land runs on to the horizon free of our infection of civilization.

And richest parts of the trip are the encounters with people. Old friends, new strangers, co-workers and collaborators, and the waitress at the diner telling the busboy that his hangover is the result of dumbness and not studly are all a great show of humanity. In some ways, each day is so rich with people that it's almost like eating too much. One needs to give the belly a day of rest, of fasting. But the next day has many of it's own people and there is no off switch. The loss is mainly that I have no time to ponder or roll about in my affection for so and so before a whole new batch of lives comes into focus and contact. It's a richness I can live with. But part of me yearns like a painter to halt the loss of sunlight towards the end of day so that I might catch the light just right before it fades.

I have always loved my cars beyond my understanding. I had the same feeling of my first bicycle. Cleaned it, oiled and tightened the chain, adjusted the seat and handle bars. And road the poor thing more hours and days than metal and rubber could bear. All with huge delight and wanting to go farther all the time. Maybe it's the way Roy Rogers loved Trigger. Trigger came when called, broke Roy out of jail, spent more time with him than Dale- maybe I shouldn't go into that, and was an all round a good friend mostly taking him away and back home over and over.

Each of my cars has felt like more than a purchased machine. More like a co-conspirator making plans for some adventure, stepping out and away from the restrictions of civilized society, over busy schedules, and against staying in one place. Is all my Attention Deficit Disorder mere Gypsy longing to never be stuck in one place? And that makes the car the antidote, the medicine and relief? And what others thought of as mere squirreliness actually needed wandering a whole continent for calm?

3 VW buses, 3 Saabs, and an heroic stint by a VW Rabbit has had me on the road since I left home at 18. Oddly, I have gotten to beautiful places and even made a home in a small paradise but the draw to go is no less after 40 years of packing and going. I can't explain the affection I have for my car. I love that it runs so well, that's it beautiful, that it's safe, and that it takes me so far so comfortably. One loves a tool of ones work and life. But really, this is true love.

Sunday 10/2 Various and Misc.
Marshall's niece is in college. We go AZ and take her out to sup. The waiter is young, very cute, and friendly. I ask her opinion. Yes, he's cute but she's thinking more about her degree. A young Marine broke her heart last year and she now prefers control and practical realistic possibilities over flinging herself into adventure. She is tall and beautiful and smart and strong. A good man to match her will not be easy to come by. She'll be an architect in a few years and is a very interesting person with wonderful creative powers and a family devoid of pathologies- such a deal.

After sup we went to Frank Lloyd Wright's Biltmore Hotel to view the beautiful building and have a drink at the bar. It is a stunning work of art and feels gracious just to walk inside. We stroll a bit trying not to look too much like tourists. A drink at the bar is a lovely way to view details and relax after a long trip across the deserts. The barmaid asks if we are traveling and before I can stop myself I explain that we 3 are on our way to LA to buy an old family circus- lots of clowns and acrobats, no animals since that is too much trouble- bales of hay, de-clawing the tigers, etc. Marshall & niece laugh on the inside but hold the straight faces of conspirators. I filled in content much too easily. There's no excuse for this behavior really. I can tell a good story but I am not a good liar, too worried about being caught to be good at it. I'd like to claim I'm moral but really lousy liars should just stick to telling exaggerated stories and leave deceit to used car salesmen and politicians.

Marshall flew home this morning. I love traveling with him. He's so good at spontaneous. I traveled alone for 10 days. Then we had a week together. Now I'll see him near the end of October, our travels crisscrossing. It's always a bit sad to separate. I teach in 3 more cities on this trip and then head east. I will make stops to visit more dear old friends and this is always wonderful. I'm 4,000 miles into this trip and more people than I can recall easily- things begin to blur in my wee mind. Marshall will work in Korea next and then I’ll see him at home for a day before he work on the west coast for 3 weeks. We’ll be done with travel by Thanksgiving.

Sunday 10/3 The Very Big Desert
Pima Meeting in Tucson AZ has a lovely meeting house, an old brick house that is a bit grand, faces a park, and holds a wonderful meeting doing good works in the world. The people are friendly and I'm always surprised to see old friends transplanted to new places I wasn't expecting. And then there's the wonderful experience that I come into a large group of mostly strangers and leave a few days later knowing many names and recognizing all the faces of new friends I've come to know via teaching and touching.

Tucson in early October seems to cool down at night into the mid-80's and still heats up to high 90's and more in the day. My first afternoon there temps went from 106 to 86 today during the rainstorm. This Vermont child is melting and sweating like a pig while the natives don't even notice the 106 temps. They talk about winter gardens planted in January and how silly it is to plant in June as the new plants can't take the heat. They say the river runs sometimes after a rain and waterfalls are unheard of in these parts.

Mostly it feels foreign but in a way that intrigues me and makes me want to see more and go further into the desert to feel the miracles of growth and life that seem to come out of rock and sand and the rare rain drop. Both the north and south poles are more akin to Vermont than this outpost.

I love seeing the very old men and women here whose skin has been worn by the desert air into craggy wrinkles and small tight bodies that have no spare water in them. In my mind, it's a desert type here and the meetinghouse held several of them today as we worked together on both Goodness and Deep Relaxation. I envy their feeling of being solid and comfortable in this desert land. I can imagine visiting here, maybe coming in the winter to write, but living here seems beyond my imagination.

Tomorrow an old friend in Truth or Consequences New Mexico will make me welcome. And I'll have a bit of rest before going on to teach in Santa Fe and Albuquerque. This is such a luxury to see so many wonderful people and places. It's a luxury to feel so well used in the ministry. And a luxury to enjoy the work even though it drags me out of my shy person, which I sense is more original and organic than my in-the-spot-light teacher persona. It's the Light that made me do it!

Marshall is home and says the color is amazing and the fog from the river drifts up the valley in the mornings- all signs of autumn. So grateful that John Meyer stacked the last of the wood in the woodshed and that the new roof is in place for winter. And that our home is so good at cozy come the first snow- all a different world from here, weeks and miles away.

Tuesday 10/5 The Spiritual and the Material
An interesting question during a recent teaching- does the depth of my faith determine the depth in my healing work? Good question. Seems obvious in some ways that the answer should be yes, of course, yes. But here's what I think the real answer is- since the healing is a spiritual gift of grace it is not in the least dependant on me and my perfection but rather the experience of grace that moves through me engages me in a way that strengthens my faith. My imperfections make me the perfect student for conversion to deep belief in the spiritual. Better to use the fool who can move into ministry proper than the "holy" man who’s already convinced. At heart I am a rascal and bad boy, but the Light is so strong I have to go and see what's there and to do that there are disciplines that have to be learned and followed, as the waters are deep. But being "qualified" or entirely ready ahead of time is not an accurate look at me. I am better at preparations now, almost 30 years since beginning. But if all were built on my faith, there would not be a full calendar to show for it each year.

On the more material side- About noon today my right eye's sight suddenly had spidery lines across it. When I looked in the mirror and saw the external eye was clear I decided I'd burst a blood vessel inside my retina. I stopped into an emergency room off the interstate between AZ and NM and was referred to an eye doctor who confirmed my diagnosis- normal aging, no sight damage, no pain, will clear itself, more floaters will appear as the blood clears from my vision. I was trying not to be scared and had almost convinced myself. But the doctor's clarity was good news that brought great relief and made me very happy. I am not good at suspense. Reading a mystery is out of the question. Not knowing if I had something much more serious going on drained me of energy and made me weary. But all is well. Travel goes on and I'll be fine after some sleep. Fear while waiting in the hospital was made less by being in prayer for those around me clearly in more pain and danger than I was. I do so well with other people’s stuff. For myself, I’m a complete coward. Thank goodness for cute young doctors who need to be very close to see into ones eye. All distractions welcome. And the mercy of a simple diagnosis was an immeasurable relief. Makes me grateful for all life.

Next stop- a dear old friend in Truth or Consequences NM- she makes the best chocolate truffles in the country! www.sweetlifechocolates.com/. This dear friend I’ve known since I’ve been several people- the young gay hippie school teacher and now several people later the old married Quaker healer anti-torture crusader. She is talented and adventurous in some shared ways and in ways very separate. She’s mastered many things while I’ve polished one stone mostly in the 30 plus years we’ve known each other. We laugh a lot, mostly at ourselves. It takes a whole evening to remember all the times and places we’ve come into one another’s lives over the years. All of this makes life feel less extreme and slightly more logical.

Wednesday 10/6 Enchanted by Light
I don't know what it is about New Mexico but I always am so enchanted when I first see it. It causes me to wonder why I don't live here- this has happened with several visits now. It's beauty and feel and light, the spaciousness and land forms all speak to me of some unknown home in time that I recognize.

There was a time yesterday crossing the Arizona-New Mexico border where I was surrounded by flat desert lowlands for miles with high mountains in the far distance in all directions- amazing. There was a sense that my home state could be tucked up into one corner for storage.

I arrived in Santa Fe and got lost with the help of maps. This city has lots of roads and few straight lines. I only got a little lost for a long time, some sense of where I wanted to go but didn't find it right away. Ended up at the Santa Fe Friends Meeting where I was graciously let in and given a lovely couch to nap on. I slept about 2 hours, waking up more awake then I had this morning. Later found my lodgings across town.

It is so beautiful here. I-25 takes in much of the view from low and high- one can see all of Albuquerque coming from the south like some huge sprawling city gone low and green. And always mountains are in view in more than one direction. The scale and the light combine to create a constant show to engage the mind. I'm in New Mexico for 4 days and then off to Colorado- the ride up Rattan Pass is always a thrill- too thrilling in snow, but I should be safe as a heat wave has been through recently.

Wonderful to get the many good notes of folks enjoying the shorts bits of writing on this trip- much appreciated. I wish I could write the confidential stuff. Would like to describe what if feels like to see obsessive compulsive disorder leave a young person free for half an hour for the first time in years after a short session of energy work. Would like to say what it felt like to work on the incestuous rapist in his meetinghouse and feel all the self-hatred take a break from crippling his spine. Would like to talk about the torn rotator cuff, the broken heart from the old boyfriends suicide putting her back out, the gifted young healer who had no idea of such in herself. All this might be recent information or from another year, but is not to be shared because it's confidential. And so I tell you about what I can- a few people but nothing too over the top, how the trip feels, what the land looks like. But of course as seekers hungry for Light and as the mystical end of Christianity (which is where all the comparative religion books put us) you know that there are other travels going on for all of us and as my travels are often other people's travels, I can only say so much. I suppose I could do a book of stories and send it out 50 years after I'm gone. But in my heart of hearts I'd love to share it now and sit with you in awe of what Light makes possible even with mere schmoos like me who are the least important part of such transactions. When any person gets even a glimpse that their stone can be rolled away, that's a moment of awe, teaching them healing is possible and the worst doesn't have to stay as it is. Now that’s TV worth watching! Other than that, not much else is new. Weather here is more moderate than in the south.

10/8 Thrift Store Addiction
I’ve new levels of madness today for true. When I was packing for this trip, I brought too many clothes. I knew it and couldn't change. So here I am- over loaded trunk, freshly laundered clothes stuffed in suitcases preparing to go from Santa Fe to Albuquerque meetings and lo- the Goodwill was on the way to lunch! Now I've been hearing about the Santa Fe Goodwill for years- a tad pricey but good stuff and lots of it.

I don't need a thing. And I've too much of lots of things. But nature called and I was a magnet caught on steel. The only way to compensate was to be extremely picky. Any shirt must fit all criteria completely to be considered for purchase. First- only my colors: blues in medium to slate to navy not too dark or bright, red, some greens, bold not fine patterns. Next- only natural fibers and button-downs preferred, no knits- my tits are too big and I look like a wet nurse pulling overtime. Plus- no spots, missing buttons, or worn collars/cuffs. Last- I have to really love it and not already have two! This makes it a pretty safe bet even for me. (Marshall says I don't have to go to 12 step if I only buy from thrift stores once a week.)

So the navy blue silk shirt was just too wonderful. And the heavy hunter green cotton shirt had to come with me. I love heavy cotton. And the Hawaiian blue cotton too was just too fun to leave. Also Woody Allen's book - Without Feathers is good light reading for traveling. I scoured the place like Sherlock Holmes looking any nice leather bags or wallets- nada, zip, schmatz.

There were some jackets and sweaters that were good buys, fit, and were good materials. But I really didn't need them and the trunk is already overfull. So, I did show some discipline, a tad little bit. And that was a relief. My own madness has some limits- always a nice surprise.

I am staying in a new co-housing group with several buildings and some gardens and a common house with a big kitchen and dinning room with a fireplace, an office, and a guest room. I’ve two friends living here. They are the kind of old Quaker ladies that makes one happy to be getting older. Their lives have been full of adventures and travels. And now somehow, though they are each very different from the other, they both, along with several others in this adventure, are settlers in a new proposition- a very green shared housing planned neighborhood where they decide as a group their culture and lifestyles here amidst 10 buildings. I enjoy that they are strong, old, and clear of vision without the ambition of youth and with great care for their impact and intention. It’s feels very good to be here and to be with them. I do a bit of work in the neighborhood, but mostly I am left to rest, mercifully. I get my hands on one friend who melts into comfort and rests deeply. The lack of touch, the absence of hugs and kisses is a kind of starvation that comes easily to some older people in sneaky ways and hurts like hell in quiet ways. This must be guarded against. Be generous with hugs especially with the old, hold on, and make that moment lush.

Santa Fe Friends were wonderful in their welcome and careful listening tonight as I held forth on The Quaker Initiative to End Torture and then Goodness. I have to write about Goodness and get it out. It was a wonderful group of almost thirty people, good questions and deep seeking. I felt washed in Light as I preached. I probably say Fuck too much which I think is a sign of me being tired. But I did explain ideas well, at least by their feedback- enough humor to teach some serious stuff and enough medium stuff to not be overwhelmed. I received many kudos for the plenary I gave at their yearly meeting 5 years ago too. I feel held, well used, and appropriately tired.

Albuquerque tomorrow and that will be the end of scheduled teaching out west for this trip. I feel it's a great luxury just to be here surrounded by mountains and big sky and wonderful people. Hoping New England doesn't feel too small, already some feelings of missing New Mexico.

Friday 10/8 Santa Fe to Albuquerque
I had a long late breakfast with my favorite Santa Fe lesbian Quakers- Rebecca, Pelican, & Shelly (missed Martha this time). We talked for a couple of hours as friends must do when not seeing each other for a few years. I hadn't seen Shelly since Ghost Ranch Mid-Winter 2003 and Inter-Mountain Yearly Meeting at Ghost Ranch with R&P since 2005. So much goes on! Martha's folks visited for 3 months! Rebecca's doc changed his mind and said she'll live 5 - 10 years with a rare blood cancer and not 3-5 years. Which I think is much more than polite on his part. And how does she feel about a long slow cancer which only 1 in 2,000,000 people get? Well, she says, it's OK that I'm dying and mostly I feel OK and things will come up and we are all dying (it's actually not rude to point that out given the conversation, but the reminder at breky feels a tad bracing). Actually, I've never seen her Lights brighter all around her. Shelly is doing wonderful work with young couples newly parenting- teaching 16 year olds about taking care of kids is important and amazing work. They are blessed to have her. And she and Martha continue to rehab their old adobe home an hour outside of Santa Fe. Peli had stories about the womyns land and how the trust is now run by lesbian Native Americans (in Canada these are called First Nations People instead of Indians) who hold the Sun Dance sacred and annually. And Rebecca is writing and is about to reveal how Iowa Quakers have all been mistakenly branded Wilberites when actually a large number of them would have nothing to do with such uptight fuss budgets as they were Norwegian and knew about pushy people via the Lutherans they escaped from back home. And Shelly gave me a teeny tiny pumpkin to bring home. It's on the dashboard. So good to visit and hear what is new and how it's going as we each find the day a beautiful if difficult set of challenges and gifts.

Just now I am sitting at the SAAB dealer in Albuquerque getting an oil change. When one travels more than 6K and it's another 2 or 3 K to get home, the synthetic oil must be made anew. I'm getting 30 mi/gal and about to teach my last scheduled group tomorrow at the Friends Meetinghouse in Albuquerque. Then heading to Denver to see friends. (Marshall is in a Korean hotel and can't figure out how to flush the very modern toilet)

Monday 10/11 A Beautiful City and a Great Highway North
My time in Albuquerque was very wonderful. I was given a guest room that is the kind of room one hopes for. A wall of sliding glass doors looking out across lawn to a pool and not far from the table on the terrace where breakfast is served. Again I am thinking I should offer my adoption papers immediately. My hosts are gracious and welcoming. I had been hoping to see some of the hot air balloon festival but it happens at extremely early hours. But, my host says, if the wind is right they will come over the house. I can’t quite picture such a thing in my minds eye but try to believe her. Well, the next morning, immediately as I was out of the shower comes the call- quick, walk with me to the golf course the balloon are flying overhead. And there we are striding before I’m actually awake towards the more open area of the golf course. Up in the air every so often is a gigantic explosion of color looking more surreal than can be explained. Yes, the balloons fly over the houses and quietly seem like elephants or tear drop boulders the size of a small house just floating by like smoke. This is the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen. It makes me laugh. I wonder what it’s like from up there. It’s like a circus playing in the air. It’s silly and odd and friendly somehow. Wondering about the first guy who said- I know let’s fill up a bladder with hot gas and fly on the wind! Whom could one say this to back then? My host indulges my childlike delight and we stroll back for breakfast. She is a wonderful person to be with and the way she talks about her kids, one can feel she’s a good mom.

The Albuquerque Friends Meetinghouse is a lovely building with two walls of windows shining the bright New Mexico sun into the room and a stage along one wall with a piano. Something about a stage in a meeting room makes me feel something large will be revealed by and by. The people gather slowly on this warm sunny day and some have come from afar. Some are from the university and others have come in from the desert. As always, seeking is done in various manners with similar hopes.

I spent the first hour or more teaching about American torture and the work of QUIT – The Quaker Initiative to End Torture. Again people had some vague sense but didn’t really know that American torture began long before George Bush and hasn’t ended with Barack Obama. Their questions are good. And I trust some actions will come of this.

Then I teach about deep relaxation and it’s importance to a deeper spiritual life, that to lay down the noise of popular American culture is important to being open to messages and guidance of Light. I’ve a few old friends in the crowd and it’s very good to be with them. One old Quaker lady has a come hither look in her bright blue eyes that I’m sure has numerous stories to tell amidst other stories of loftier seeking. I get my hands on one old friend with serious illness and this is a comfort to both of us. Having friends all across country and some of them quite ill means that my touch is too limited unlike my heart, which stretches and reaches like some hound hot on the trail. This is frustrating. And so now, in the same room, I have the luxury of hands-on and we both bask a bit in the comfort of direct helping in person. One old friend breaks down into weeping from all the sad stories she’s heard from work. I hold her and encourage her to weep and be washed in her grief’s release and mostly, she is. Later she looks younger and not so tired and clear as a bell. We do get afraid of letting it go and the burden grows. I can see how opera is so easily done in Italian where they are used to being loud and big drama and no emotions are secret but rather compete in a crowded field- the tradition I know.

Soon after we are done, my car is rocketing along I-25 going north. I had hoped to get farther but I am too tired to reach Raton. I go not as far and am asleep soon after dark. The drive along I-25 is stunning to me at every turn. Especially in the north there are wide, open fields that go on for miles and miles that seemed golden in the afternoon light and behind them tall pines and beyond that rocky mountains looming higher and higher. This is too beautiful and makes me want to stay.

The long drive north, passing Santa Fe, and leaving New Mexico is a bit sad for me. I know soon I'll turn east and I will miss the drama of the landscape, the very large forms, and the light only New Mexico has. About an hour from Raton Pass along I-25, there are rolling plateaus going off into the distance just golden with hay and edged by higher plateaus of rock and trees and behind them mountains- always these layers of differing forms, always catching the eye, intriguing.

Scheduled work is now done and the travel is looser. I have work at home awaiting me and there are more visits along the way to make. But now that teaching/touching work is done- I am feeling the kind of tired you don't allow yourself to feel until after finals. I am physically tired and a bit peopled out. I need some solitude and rest alone time to recover- but none was in the plan. Memo to self- old queens who are itinerant teacher/preachers needs more time between weeks of work in a row.

I was to stay in Denver with a dear friend, but in truth I’m peopled out. I need some immediate solitude and alone time without even the kindness of good hospitality of a sweet person asking my favorite foods for breakfast. I drove on to Boulder feeling guilty that I would not see this friend. But I choose rightly as a grouchy John really is best put alone for naps and refreshment lest anyone see how truly awful I can be. I pass Denver and come to Boulder ahead of schedule. I was here for the largest changes in my life. From 1982 to 1985 I was in massage school and also beginning my work with rape survivors and people with AIDS before we had the word. It's here that I learned about my spiritual gift to release pain and here I surrendered my life to this blessing and here I began to live on gifts.

As I drive through town a flood of memory comes- faces without names, names without current idea of what's become of them, and memories of my own transitions from numb-nuts to a beginning healer thrilled and terrified of what was next. And my own healing from lonely skinny angry horny to empowered in all the same areas- deep friendships, normal body weight with new muscles from doing massage, a better knowledge of the anger I would study for years, and a full dance card- yipeeee!

I think I have the same feeling for Boulder that people have for their college towns when that time was good. This time of change and growth for me was very good, tho I arrived at 30 years old. I was a late bloomer, came of age here, and charted a new life. I have many friends in this part of the world. But just now, after all this work, I want some alone time and some rest.

I have some fear of turning east. It means leaving the mountains and by and by it will mean more crowding civilization and all the work that awaits me at home, and finally- winter soon, too soon.

I shouldn't be writing the obit of this trip just yet. I won't be home for almost a week. I suppose it's the fatigue of lots of good work and the many miles. It's also that the QUIT conference and this trip took months and months to organize and do. And now, these tasks are done. I am feeling full and good and needing a nap before bed.

I've had great delight in seeing so many old friends. And in reaching into the lives of many new people too. And I've seen the country in a way that let's me rejoice in its beauty and take great pleasure in its size. There are only 5 states I haven't been to, mostly in the south, and another road trip could take care of that. Not sure there are enough Quakers in Louisiana to get an invitation to teach there, but I could drive through.

Tuesday 10/12 Is this disaster or not?
Well, so there I was going into Kansas when the CHECK ENGINE light came on in the evening. The car was running fine but light spoke some unknown truth. Driving across much of beautiful Kansas going slowly as the car insisted, I am now on 2 days enforced hotel rest while car is repaired. I'm happy to not have been stranded and towed off the highway. And the repair is free. And I can use the time to rest some more after a slow day in Boulder. So I am more relieved than anything else. It does appear that I will miss seeing an aunt in St Louis who was going to give me a wood carving by a favorite uncle who died 2 years ago. The family asked me to give the eulogy, which was in the Catholic church where I had first communion over 50 years ago. And I probably will not see a friend in Ohio either as my current placement on the map and driving days to get home are now off kilter from original plans. I am wanting to get home efficiently so that I can really and truly be back after 33 days away before I pack the next Sunday to teach away from home, tra la.

So things are not always as we plan and everything should be written in pencil with erasers looming- the cosmic plan has more authority, in general. I'm going to do some thank you notes tomorrow and make some calls, but generally go slow. Since I wanted some slow alone time, here it is- just not where I intended.

Watching the Rocky Mountains disappear in the rearview mirror was sad for me. The great plains are beautiful, but I'd been so taken with the drama of mountains and deserts. And the whole east-bound part is a kind of farewell- to an adventure, to big beautiful landscapes, to the heat of summer, to friends far from me, to the freedom of travel and wonderful work and people in new places.

In Boulder I spent some time going through the phone book to see if some men were still alive. The time of AIDS early on in the wars meant many missing might be gone away or actually dead. Such memories come with wondering what became of .... And...... And...... Should I look at the AIDS Quilt website for them?

The SAAB service hotline 800# was kind and courteous. But when it comes to helping me get help along I-70, they don't hold a candle to Liz Keeney. She had map, Google, and numbers for me to call in mere moments. The nice SAAB lady couldn't use her computer the way I needed her too. I suggested she ask her boss for a map and paper list of SAAB mechanics. Meanwhile, Liz also makes cookies- which we all know is the real key to the pearly gates! Oddly, I called her while driving through Wakeeney!

There is an odd box here in the hotel called a TV. I'm going to investigate it and report on its contents. It will be hard to improve my low opinion. I have a hard enough time being open minded about people, let alone colossal productions of numb-nuts ninney-brained foolishness. But I'll take a look.

Wednesday 10/13 Belief and Faith
A quick note as I am off computer during rest days. Just wanted to make a note on the material and spiritual worlds intersecting in my slow ride across Kansas yesterday. I've been teaching about the two differing perceptions of "God" Friends often experience. The one is the Big Daddy God, old white guy on the cloud with beard who is the cosmic landlord who owns everything and is a real grouch, do not piss him off- Old Testament, a simplistic idea learned in early childhood and the early development historically of human seeking. The other perception is when we are in a deeply covered meeting and feel the presence keenly and become aware that the divine is more than any one concept and completely beyond language and much more pervasive than picturing some guy and not at all with anger or meanness. There’s an ocean of Light which we can rejoin any time and let go the noise of popular culture and enter into a flow that is on going. And yet when the shit hits the fan we commonly go running to Big Daddy God to fix it all forsaking all we know, all our power, and all our experience of being aspects of the divine. How might we stop responding like children and take the time to observe as well as we are able and seek understanding and join with the Light to have feelings and wonder in balance and not take it all so personally as only a child will do- me, me, me, me.

So, here's me yesterday driving across Kansas. Things to fear- breaking down and stranded on the interstate, cost of tow and repair, missing visits with dear ones, having to get a dozen of my favorite leather bags home without my own car, and the toll this fear takes on me physically- especially after a month of travel work. (And were the 2 storms to my NE & NW just rain or tornadoes?) But I didn't lurch into Oh Please Save Me, Spare Me, Help Me and hand over all my power to the childhood image similar to Michelangelo's painting of God and Adam- talk about an old boys network. Instead I asked for understanding and patience and wondered what I could know about what I needed just then. Yes, there was a SAAB dealer far from here. Was there one closer? What were the symptoms of the car telling me? Going slower helped a lot. 60 not 70 meant the car kept going and didn't lose power. The hard part was that meant hours more on the road in the state of fear and trying not to hand over reverence, seeking, wisdom, and power to fear and hysteria of which I am so very capable. It was exhausting. It was another experiment/trial in keeping with ones best and I am slowly better at it each year. The Light gives calm and understanding and this gives power to our divine connection and makes less use of fear. Wish I had known this better during early childhood violence and the loneliness of adolescence. It's a good thing life is long- there's so much to figure out and practice.

Thursday 10/14 Wondering
Late night musings - I've had fantasies of living in a hotel for years now. There are romantic stories of writers living in hotels and working while enjoying being anonymous in a city and the luxury of amenities without housework. My home is a bushel of distractions from writing and I can imagine a beautiful room in some lovely place with only writing to be done. That idea has a lot of order and simplicity to it, complexity alleviated. I imagine being productive and single minded and few things going on. Maybe I've made a life of too much. Even good choices can gather into a heap. Always a dozen undone projects, good ideas left in stacks that nag at me even though I am busy getting to some of them. I daydream going from my desk and office with its history and complexity to a room larger than needed and mostly empty with big windows and only one thing I am writing. No phone calls. No calendar and rushing to other places with tons of people and things to teach. No interruptions at all. Is this more luxury than I'll ever see? Or just some whining I have time for with the luxury of travel? Is it craving less due to age, wanting more depth in fewer venues? I remember in the early days of the epidemic coming home to Boulder from doing massage on dying men in Denver. I'd sit wearily on the back porch and watch the neighbor, Thelma Maydew, who was at least in her 90's doing the chores around her tidy yard and house. She was always in motion, but in a finite measurable world that was just her own. I envied her simplicity. Is my life such that I've gone waist deep into all I wanted to seek and now feeling a tad too old or tired to be this engaged? I am thinking this is a common feeling among seekers who have the time to wonder about this in their late 50's early 60's. Adjusting to another period in life- more mastery, less energy. Am I just selfishly wanting to have more time to write so that I am leaving more behind, wanting to be remembered and well remembered? That's kind of ego silly and kind of true. What's left behind of a life? My father built our house and now it's crumbling. My mother leaves nothing behind but 3 boys each in varying success of making lives they want to live. My mentors built good and great lasting things- books, institutions, departments of universities that carry a tone and direction they began- but mostly they left students who take the mentoring and turn it into beautiful parts of life. It's the making of Light that they share. Is the wanting to write more just selfish desire to leave something behind, to be well thought of? Some idea of more quiet seeking and less work in the field? Is this maturation? Is it an obligation of a seeker whose gone a different path to go out to the edge and come back to report in some way that helps those who come later? Or am I seeing myself larger than I am? Pretending some scale that is nonsense. What are my illusions of self? I suppose acting from the gut and making choices of passion and Light is all one can do and hope to learn from all the mistakes and how it all hangs together we'll see later on. Meanwhile, I'm going to do what brings more Light and that seems to have worked well, mostly, thus far. Today I answered the question- If one has a Krispy Kreme sugar-glazed lemon-cream-filled doughnut after a late lunch, will one need an afternoon nap?

Friday 10/15 On the Road Back
Departed Kansas City yesterday with a good working car. The repair part put in in Montana had to be replaced- same trouble as before but now fixed, again, we hope. Stayed in Terre Haute, IN and today drove to Erie, PA. Hope to get home late tomorrow to little Putney.

Along the way I am feeling the claustrophobic effects of leaving the large spaces of the west where fewer people live and coming into the increasing density of the NE. I am remembering that one of the things I love about VT is the few # of people per sq mi. Feeling a bit guilty that my basil in the garden is probably frost dead but ever so grateful that John Meyer stacked the last of the firewood in Sept.

My silk bomber (which is the most excellent shade of purple/blue found in a thrift store in Palm Springs) was splashed last night big time by the tray of juice holding the roast beef at the Mongolian Barbeque in Terre Haute. Took a shower with it tonight in Erie. Hoping for the best. Signs saying Dust Storms May Exist the Next 20 Miles so common in southern Arizona are unknown in Vermont. Must remember to tell people I tend not to eat beans or fish.

I saw two Adult porno store billboards side by side with billboards from the local church yelling about sin. All old signs. I think the switch from the 1950's of most porno being the province of the Mafia to currently being much more contracts of independents and most women only choosing this work for under 2 years for big bucks, while men are paid much less, and that porno makes only slightly less than Hollywood proper, in the billions, would be news to the hinter lands. With the inventions of the VCR and now the internet it has largely escaped the trap which currently snares US pop music which involves much more whoring and corporate control.

With the car back to full energy and rocketing along the interstate, I find my mind drifting between two thoughts- the many deep interactions with people during work this trip and the work awaiting me at home. I was especially happy to recall that one of the QUIT speakers, psychiatrist Terry Kupers, said that my description of mental health effects from torture was the most accurate he'd ever heard- overwhelming & underwhelming the senses to the point of deconstructing the personality. And a woman breaking down into deep grief from simple energy work. She finally relaxed enough to let go and let it rip, which I encouraged cradling her head as her beloved looked on. And the young massage student deeply in love and seeing how this love makes all his touch work deeper in it's power- amazing. And getting my hands on an old friend with serious illness as a demonstrator model during a workshop- sneaky yes, but what am I to do? Favoritism? The Light made me do it! I got my hands on a number of young junkies in OR and could feel that simple contentment was a missed floor of their elevator trips up high and down way low. And the work at home- presenting at another torture conference in 7 days, bring a box to the post office to get all the mail and sort it out and completely unpack and do laundry and a trip to the cleaners before M gets back from Korea and call the dears over the line in MA to see when I might get my hands on her as her breathing slows. And plan a QUIT steering committee agenda for November. Wonder if I have to build a fire tomorrow to warm the house? And what kind of gift shall I find for the couple next door who just got married and don't want things?! Chocolate? Feeling very blessed that all this work and home life, even when it's too much, is of my choosing and all of it good and worthy of all efforts.

Mostly I'm just ready to sleep in my own bed and so glad that this trip has been so good. I deeply appreciate that so many held the QUIT 4 conference in the Light that special weekend. It seems a meeting of torture opposing organizations met in DC and it was clear that our direction of education is the way to go.

Saturday 10/16 Home
After 8,476 miles over 33 days, it's good to be home. Built a fire in the woodstove, closed a few windows, unloaded the car of 15 pieces of luggage, and made a grocery list for shopping tomorrow. Most of the color in the Northeast seems to be gone. And coolish in the low 30's tonight, haven't felt that in a bit. Lovely moon. My eye sight has really improved in the last few days. Noticing our little house isn't as "nice" as the homes I've stayed in over the last month. Also noticing that it's very difficult to be "public" for an entire month and good to be home and let down. But mostly noticing how good it is to work hard and a lot and come home- gratitude. Thanks for sharing the ride with me.

A lecture on torture I gave is on TV

2010-11-08T16:09:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to let you know that a talk I gave to Burlington Friends Meeting in VT made it's way on to community TV. This is a QUIT Update (QUIT - The Quaker Initiative to End Torture). There are no explicit horror stories here about torture, only the questions about our democracy since American torture continues.

http://www.cctv.org/watch-tv/programs/burlington-friends-meeting-discussion-john-calvi-quaker-initiative-end-torture

Please share this widely.

Thanks, John

4th QUIT Conference - Quaker Initiative to End Torture

2010-09-27T09:39:00.000-07:00

Dear All,

Thank you for all your notes and for holding the QUIT conference in the
Light. The conference was excellent! All 4 presenters outdid themselves in
presenting current information from their fields.

Terry Kupers, author of Prison Madness, gave us clear information about how the use of torture in
American prisons results in deformed people unable to live as whole humans.

Fr Roy Bourgeois explained the history of the School of the Americas and the
torture training for more than 60,000 Latin American military and police
that continues.

Scott Horton, lawyer and Harper's magazine writer of the No
Comment column, explained the legal context in which Obama not only
continues Bush policies but in some instances makes things worse regarding
torture.

And Hector Aristizabal, Columbian therapist and torture survivor,
showed us how movement and play can help us integrate all the information
and subsequent emotions after learning so much about torture.

California has good and active groups working against torture and we heard of several
actions taken in recent years- everything from clown protests to
legislation. Friends from Durham, North Carolina and Bosie, Idaho and
Eugene, Oregon along with mostly Californians attended, plus several
non-Quakers joined us. Meeting for worship in the Redwood forest was
as amazing as one might imagine

Thanks again for your good care and support, John

Mapping

2010-09-07T21:20:00.000-07:00

Mapping – John Calvi September 2010

I’ve a box full of maps. Going through the box to find maps I might use, I find odd sorts of things. Here are 5 postcards bought in Spain and one written out to me but unsent- Marshall had some work in Salamanca Spain. And there’s a map of the solar system- now that’s a hell of a drive. Mostly it’s state maps and various beach towns- vacation to me generally means beach. But these are mainly maps from work. Here’s a Denver/Boulder map from when I was in Massage School in the early 80’s. Here’s a map of Costa Rica from that international torture conference in 88. And under it all are old notices of the ferry schedules across Lake Champlain, Vermont to New York, from several years.

When I teach in a city I haven’t been to before, I try to get a map and keep it. I’ve always loved maps. Some parts travel worry me, but as soon as a map is laid out in front of me I get a familiar itch to just go. Buying the new Rand McNally road atlas each year is a delight I cherish. I love driving to new places, seeing new landscapes. Since I’ve been in cozy little New England most of my life, almost everywhere else looks and feels different. This time I will drive a northern route across country I’ve never seen, including the Badlands and Eastern Oregon.

I am packing for a 33 day trip driving through 22 states, almost 8,000 miles. I’m teaching in 5 states, 6 cities. I’m looking over maps and making lists of things to bring, things to get, things to do before leaving in one week. I haven’t been away for a whole month in years and years. Do I own enough underwear? Will packing 3 suitcases for 5 days each make it easier? Is there enough music in the car to carry me through the long mid-west twice? Will there be snow in Idaho? Will there be sandstorms in Arizona? Will my 4 year old car be patient with me and show mercy? Do I have the names, phone numbers, and addresses for each of the 21 stops I’m making? Where am I staying in ID? Where’s the meetinghouse in Albuquerque? And what time do I begin in Missoula?

I want to do a bit of blogging each day and let people know how the trip is going. I may not have internet access each day but often enough to give some feel for what’s happening. I am just now beginning to get away from the computer and stacking things in piles to put in the car. I’ve one more laundry to do, plus some things at the cleaners, and most importantly my mechanic is doing a special check on everything to help my Saab cross the Rockies, go down the west coast, and brave the Southwest deserts before returning to quaint little Putney, VT. I am thinking that the hard part will be the too little time to linger and enjoy a new setting, but rather charge on in a schedule created to get much done in several places. Some day I will do a similar route with more time and Marshall by my side, I hope. (He will be working in Korea much of the time I am gone.)

For now I am cleaning my desks to be sure I haven’t misplace a vital cell phone number for California. And that’s all before my favorite part of travel- choosing luggage. Oh dear, no matter what I do, some weirdness leaks out.

The 26th Beethoven Letter April 2010

2010-04-03T14:49:00.000-07:00

The 26th Beethoven Letter by John Calvi

Dear Friends,

There is a particular discipline that comes with my duel works of healing trauma and ending torture. It is a discipline of attending to the immediate particulars while keeping an eye on the far horizon. While attending to the moment of right now, I keep in mind the time to come and bridging the two with great possibilities. I listen to the story of pain in one person while hearing what can be lifted and washed. I teach yet another group about continuing American torture, careful to set a tone that a time is coming when there will be no torture. This discipline has gotten steadier within me over the last 28 years. It is as necessary as breath and water. It is a tone as well as a posture, a perspective as well as a philosophy. Hope is not some random feeling of optimism but a tool, a great torch to be carried into places without Light.

And so spring comes and I am on the road. Marshall and I were legally married in Vermont a week after our 20th wedding anniversary and the town clerk asked if I was sure about this man. Since my work began in 1982, invitations to work and gifts to live have been my growing regular schedule. This year I am honored to be an invited speaker to New York Yearly Meeting as the founding convener of The Quaker Initiative to End Torture. And to be joining others for QUIT’s 4th conference taking place September 24-26 2010 at Quaker Center in Ben Lomond, California. I continue to teach healing at Friends General Conference, Pendle Hill, and Powell House. And I’ll make several new stops as invitations and my calendar grows- updates on my website. Both works continue with great need and few changes.

I need your help this year particularly with replacing my car. My 10 year old Saab insisted on retirement and a wonderful 4 year old Saab took the challenge thanks to my honest Mennonite mechanic, Al Scott. He keeps me on the road in safe affordable winter cars. Your help with this new debt would be a wonderful support I’d be very grateful for. Your generosity will be carefully used and deeply appreciated.

Many parts make my work possible. First there is the leading and spiritual gift to release pain. Then there is you- from you come the invitations to teach and the support that make work and living possible. It’s not easy to live on gifts- suspense is more than interesting. But it’s a dance we’ve been in now for 27 years. And I am very grateful for your part and mine. Please help me to continue a life work in these times.
In the Light,

John Calvi, April 2010

PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346 www.johncalvi.com 802/387-4789 calvij@sover.net

WWW.JOHNCALVI.COM - new website at any moment now!

New engagement dates, photos, and writings at my website- also a journal blog.
My thanks to Sehoon Ahn & Sean Conley for website expertise.

John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete 2010 Calendar (as of April)

March 13 Quaker Initiative to End Torture QUIT Update Meeting School Rindge NH www.themeetingschool.org

April 17-19 Lake Forest Friends Meeting Retreat Leader & QUIT Update Lake Forest IL

June 20-24 Pendle Hill Washed in Light by Tender Hands Wallingford PA www.pendlehill.org

July 4-10 Friends General Conference Abandon All Weariness Bowling Green OH www.fgcquaker.org QUIT Update

July 16 VT People with AIDS Coalition Workshops Massage Stowe VT www.vtpwac.org

July 18-24 New York Yearly Meeting QUIT Plenary Monday Silver Lake NY www.nyym.org

August 8-12 New England Yearly Meeting NEYM.org Smithfield, RI

September 20-22 Dragonfly Transitions workshops Klamath Falls OR www.dragonflyadventures.com

September 24-26 Quaker Initiative to End Torture Quaker Ctr Ben Lomond CA
www.quit-torture-now.org www.quakercenter.org

October 23 Conference on Torture & Healing Burlington Meeting Burlington VT

November 19-21 Quaker Initiative to End Torture Conference Old Chatham NY www.powellhouse.org

Please send a gift to my address below, THANKS!
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed. A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.

P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

THANKS FOR ALL YOUR HELP!
Postage is prohibitive. I need to reduce paper mail to actual live Beethoven Letter readers. I am happy to keep you on my Beethoven mailing list Email or paper. Simply send word. Please help by sending your e-mail address to calvij@sover.net or a postcard to P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

Year End Letter 2009

2009-12-08T07:55:00.000-08:00

John Calvi’s Year End Letter November 2009

Dear Friends,

2009 has been a full and wonderful year of travel work following my 2008 sabbatical. I worked with 24 groups in 12 states. From planning meetings for The Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT in DC to the main plenary at North Pacific Yearly Meeting in Montana to the Dragonfly Transitions young adult treatment center in Oregon, I was well used in the right places. 13 of these were return invitations, a good sign that I am useful in on-going work and continue to be well received. The new invitations were a delight.

I’m often asked did sabbatical change things, was it good, how was it to re-enter? Yes, sabbatical was very good- right on time, life-saving. I am refreshed and glad to be back. I did/do more writing- see my blog via my website – Both prayer and work are deeper than before. I was also shocked to discover how old I’ve become – if you are too busy to notice that decades have passed, that’s TOO busy! 60 is 2.5 years away and I cannot for the life of me comprehend how this happened. And it was surprising to love being a hermit- my solitude and quiet needs have grown with the years and the work. Tons of people contact with re-entry was both welcome and challenging.

Work has changed a bit over the years. More groups have me in to help them heal conflict. While trauma survivors still attend all workshops and speeches, there is also a large draw from clergy, health care professionals, and various kinds of leadership. I think in part this is due to the state of the world being in so much pain and many many people overwhelmed by the their work. While there is hope, there is also exhaustion, despair, and some doubt about doing ones best for the long haul. My path has been very particular in learning and teaching such things. I also did QUIT Updates on every one of my stops this year. I’ve learned to work in places where reverence is valued.

The scenario of working by invitation and living mainly on gifts would appear risky. And after 27 years I confess to looking over my shoulder now and again wondering if I am still aloft. One leaps expecting a net and is wonderfully surprised to discover flight. My work – healing for trauma survivors, teaching and mentoring to healers and others with ministry, convening The Quaker Initiative to End Torture - QUIT, and writing – has been made possible by the generosity of many. And by your trust, for which I am eternally grateful. There is much good that needs doing and I have plans for some of that. Thanks to you more will be possible.

I ask you please to give generously. You know I am tried and true and the need is great. I go on, knowing that you and I are doing our best, that has always been what’s needed.

In the Light, John

John Calvi PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346 www.johncalvi.com calvij@sover.net
WWW.JOHNCALVI.COM
New engagement dates, new photos, and new writings at my website- also a new journal blog.
My thanks to Sehoon Ahn for website expertise.

John Calvi’s Completed Calendar 2009

March 12-13 Quaker Initiative to End Torture- Planning Mtgs Wash, DC
March 28 Mountain View Meeting of Quakers- Healing www.mountainviewfriends Denver, CO
March 29 Colorado Regional Spring Gathering of Quakers- Speaker Denver, CO
April 24-26 Woolman Hill Abandon All Weariness woolmanhill.org Deerfield, MA
May 30 Pendle Hill Lay Down the Burden & Rest pendlehill.org Wallingford, PA
June 14 Putney Friends Mtg Quaker Initiative to End Torture Noon Putney, VT
June 15 CONTACT International Peace Conf School for International Training Brattleboro, VT
June 27-July 4 Friends General Conference Abandon All Weariness fgcquaker.org Blacksburg, VA
July 15-19 North Pacific Yearly Mtg Plenary Speaker, wkshps npym.org Missoula, MT

August 3-5 New England Yearly Meeting workshops QUIT neym.org Smithfield, RI
August 9 N. Sandwich Friends Meeting QUIT Update N Sandwich, NH
September 18 Friends House QUIT Update www.friendshouse.org Santa Rosa, CA
September 19-20 Redwood Forest Mtg Healing Community, Meeting for Healing Santa Rosa, CA
September 25-27 Quaker Ctr Restoration/Preparation/Light w.quakercenter.org Ben Lomond, CA
Sep 30 -Oct 2 Multnomah & Bridge Ctiy Mtg Energy Work, QUIT, Mtg for Healing Portland, OR
October 1 West Hill Friends Church QUIT Update www.westhillsfriends.org Portland, OR
October 3-4 Willamette Quarterly Mtg Plenary Speaker, QUIT Update, Healing Mt Hood, OR
October 6-7 Dragonfly Transitions Students Healing www.dragonflyadventures.com Klamath Falls, OR
October 7 Klamath Falls Friends Church QUIT Update Klamath Falls, OR

Nov 6-8 2009 Powell House The Body as Temple Old Chatham, NY
Nov 14 Wellness Works Holistic Health Center Glendale, CA
Nov 14 Santa Monica Mtg On Healing off site Santa Monica, CA
Nov 15 Claremont Meeting QUIT Update Claremont, CA

2010 John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete 2010 Calendar (as of November 2009)
February 13 Quaker Initiative to End Torture QUIT Update Meeting School Rindge NH
April 17, 19 Lake Forest Friends Meeting Retreat Lake Forest IL
June 20-24 Pendle Hill Washed in Light by Tender Hands Wallingford PA
July 4-10 Friends General Conference Abandon All Weariness Bowling Green OH
July 16 VT People with AIDS Coalition Workshops Massage Stowe VT
July 18-24 New York Yearly Meeting QUIT Update Silver Lake NY
August 8-12 New England Yearly Meeting workshops QUIT Update Smithfield, RI
September 24-26 Quaker Initiative to End Torture Quaker Ctr Ben Lomond CA
November 2010 Healing from Life Wounds Powell House Old Chatham NY
November 19-21 Quaker Initiative to End Torture Conference Old Chatham NY

PLEASE SEND A GIFT TO MY ADDRESS BELOW.
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed.
A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.

P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

IMPORTANT!
Postage is prohibitive. I need to reduce paper mail to actual live Beethoven Letter readers. I am happy to keep you on my Beethoven mailing list Email or paper. Simply send word. Please help by sending your e-mail address to calvij@sover.net or a postcard to P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

World AIDS Day - memories

2009-12-07T22:31:00.000-08:00

All day I've felt a bit sad. I've been remembering the arc of AIDS in my
life, what I usually think of as the AIDS WARS. I remember hearing a little
something in August of 83, an article in Time magazine perhaps, about gay
men getting cancer in San Francisco and New York. I was teaching in a
summer camp and quite isolated.

But when I returned to massage school in.Boulder, Colorado, I began to learn
more and seek out more information. I
remember in October going to an informational meeting by the Colorado
department of health and learning what little information they had. Maybe
it was a virus. AIDS as a word had not yet happened. No one was sure yet
how it was spread but probably by body fluids. Not sure about kissing,
except gay men kiss their grandmothers and grannies did not seem to have
AIDS, the doctor said.

I called that doctor soon and offered to give
massage to anyone in Colorado with AIDS whether or not they could pay.
Fortunately, the numbers were still in the single digits and I did massage
on 4 people very soon. 3 became long term clients. 2 were dead in a few
years. Many more were diagnosed and died quickly as we had so little
understanding of the new diseases and none of the existing medicines worked.

Back in Vermont in 85 I taught AIDS 101 at Quaker meetings and in NY
prisons. I became part of the Vermont People with AIDS Coalition and did
tons of massage and teaching there. In 86 my best friend got swollen lymph
nodes and though he wouldn't die for several years, my heart began to break.

I met Marshall and moved to Los Angeles, began to teach with AIDS, Medicine,
and Miracles and did massage with Michael Callen over the years. And then
we moved to Washington DC where John Meyer got me hooked up with AIDS
services and I was hands-on in several hospitals, teaching buddy teams, and
just beginning work with tortured refugees for a change of pace- it was good
to work with people who were not dying.

About this time, my best friend
began to be seriously ill. And that long vigil of support and saying
good-bye began. More friends became ill. Any illness I felt was
terrifying. I was now deeply in love and married in all senses but the
legal one and feared greatly that one of us would become ill and we'd be
among the many sinking low and disappearing and then part of the great flood
of memorials.

I was doing grieving circles at night at Friends General
Conference because there was a need from more grieving than usual life
allowed and these circles were crowded with amazing stories and so many
people.

When we moved back to Vermont, I was relieved of doing regular
hospital visits and the density of memorials. But became part of the rural
work of education and service. Bill, my best friend, began a decline
slowly. He would have a rally and stay strong for a bit. And then some
other infection would bring him low again and his true love did an amazing
job of care, beyond what I could do, I am sure.

And by the time Bill died I was nearly numb to the great pain of the world in this pandemic. It had
become my coming of age in my early 30's and now had squashed my heart and
hope almost two decades later. I still teach about AIDS when I'm invited.
And I still lay hands on people with AIDS as a massage therapist and energy
worker. And a couple of friends, still living, are among the very first
people diagnosed in NYC in the very early 80's.

Recently I worked with a young doctor from Rwanda whose life work has become pediatric AIDS in a
children's hospital. He told me he felt numb and had no emotions left. We
discussed avoiding burnout, the advanced form. And we did some hands-on
work that felt full of Light and well guided from on high. He told me that
in Rwanda he had not seen the worst. I was afraid to ask what that meant in
Rwandan terms.

And this summer I'll return to an AIDS conference I have
been teaching at for more than 20 years. I'll see old dear ones and laugh
and clap my hands as I walk to them calling out in a loud voice Oh For God's
Sake, Are You Still Alive?! And we'll hug and laugh to still be here, still
be doing the work, still be grateful for so many things. And I'll talk
quietly with the newly diagnosed- young girls and boys and some grandmothers
- and find some ways to help them relax and maybe to laugh and maybe dare to
hope that as bad as the news is, they can still do life and do it in a big
way with this new family as an anchor.

I am so honored and exhausted and
proud of what we've survived. I can't imagine a life without this education
that I never signed up for. And I'm so happy to have learned how to get up
each day and work in hell and that to go in smiling created the best chance
to carry Light as far into those dank corners as possible.

I still miss Bill, especially on this day, and listen to his speeches on tape and get
teary. But I remember his living more than his dying and his laughter more
than his tears. I was so dearly looking forward to getting old with him.
Now, I just remember how it felt to be with him and when I see some handsome
man walking down the beach, some part of me smiling inside says - hey Bill,
look at that! It's life itself that draws us on, that bright Light and hope
that we'll see how lovely life is.

Simple Complexities

2009-08-17T10:52:00.000-07:00

It happened again recently and while it is not frequent, it is also not unusual. I’m at a yearly meeting and a woman comes up to me. She says that in the past few days she realizes that when ever she is standing near me that her neuropathy stops hurting. She laughs and says that since she can’t take me home that I will just have to give her extra to last as long as possible. We both laugh and I give her a long hug while humming a deep bass line perhaps like a very old refrigerator or maybe a dump truck pretending that I was delivering the extra requested. We laugh again. She says thank you and I say it’s my pleasure or it’s my honor.

In this simple exchange a few givens are acknowledged. She feels less pain when near me and we both know this is neither talent nor technique but a spiritual gift that comes through me. I have some responsibility, but ultimately I’m a mere tube some Light is coming through. I have the task of being a good tube. And this includes acknowledging that this gift is not from me. It is not mine, but rather a blessing with origins beyond me. And, like much of spiritual life, beyond words of simple description. It is my lot in life to learn and use and be faithful to this gift.

Some people will hear just that much and conclude relentless ego or he thinks he’s divine. Others will say it’s illusion, imagination, or simply bizarre- beyond their own deep spiritual experience. Part of what will be missed with such dismissals is that I understand the hard work involved in the discipline of such a gift and that I am not important in the transaction, by which I mean the great thing here is the Light itself of which we are all aspects. But I am as separate from that Light as anyone, even as I work to learn more.

Likewise a number of disciplines in the work are not understood. The first being solitude. The intimacy and intensity of having another’s pain pass through you is common among doctors, therapists, clergy and other crisis workers. Solitude to recover and refresh from the work is a common tool. For me it means I need to rest away from others, even during a conference. This can appear to some as a prima Dona taking oneself too seriously. But without an office or office hours how else does one stop work? Once I am up and out in whatever village I am working in, I’m on. I don’t stay in the village and say no to all work. Saying no is work too. Rather, I live and rest at the edge of the village and come into the center when it’s time to work. It’s the living at the edge and it’s imperative that is even less understood by others than the gift itself. The disciplines of opening, closing, washing, and resting I am still learning after all this time. Once grace withdraws, it is only me trying to do my best as just another person, as lost and found as any.

25th Beethoven Letter April 2009

2009-04-15T08:28:00.000-07:00

The 25th Beethoven Letter by John Calvi

Dear Friends,

I am back on the road after a year of sabbatical. In 2009, I’m teaching in some of my old favorite spots- Pendle Hill, Quaker Center, Powell House, and Friends General Conference. Plus new places- North Pacific Yearly Meeting, Colorado Regional Gathering of Friends, Wellness Works in CA.

I return to work from the luxury of rest. To do something for a long time and work hard to get good at it is a blessing. To rest from the work, wonder at it’s meaning- brings focus to doing more. I am so very grateful for this. Sabbatical brought the inspiration of overview and the gratitude of accomplishment for balance and continuance. Also clear from sabbatical is that spiritual life is cumulative. I may not move as fast at 56 as I did at 30, but I do more with less effort and fewer missteps, thank goodness.

In addition to my usual, I’ve been at work on 2 opposites. The first is the cleansing of the noise, fear, and rush of modern life from individuals by teaching simple massage and energy work. The second is to continue the work of ending American torture that is practiced in US prisons and military training involving doctors. To this end, I join with others of the Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT. These two are similar opposites-to be clean of fear brings Light and to end torture is to stop the worst humans do. These, among other works, keep me very busy. A new journal blog on my website offers new and old writings to you-

Life with Marshall in Vermont is better than ever- 20 years married now. But can an itinerant Quaker healer/teacher continue in a worldwide depression to work by invitation and live mainly by gifts? So far, yes. I began working in the rape crisis in 82 and then with AIDS. Work with inmates and tortured refugees followed. A spiritual gift of releasing physical and emotional pain following trauma grew with my work. The life pattern of work by invitation and gifts also grew. I trust I’ve been brought this far to continue. Your support makes this possible. To live on gifts in a manner of service is an old idea, simple and basic. To do so now fights the gravity of financial and cultural fear. I need your gifts to continue.

In the Light,

John Calvi April 2009 P O Box 301 Putney, VT 05346 www.johncalvi.com

WWW.JOHNCALVI.COM
New engagement dates, new photos, and new writings at my website- also a new journal blog.
My thanks to Sehoon Ahn for website expertise.

John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete Calendar – 2009 (as of April 2009)

March 12-13 Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT Planning Mtgs Penn House Wash, DC

March 28 Mountain View Meeting of Quakers- On The Light Within Denver, CO

March 29 Colorado Regional Spring Gathering of Quakers- On Spiritual Deepening Denver, CO

April 24-26 Woolman Hill- Abandon All Weariness woolmanhill.org Deerfield, MA

May 29-31 Pendle Hill- Lay Down the Burden and Rest pendlehill.org Wallingford, PA

June 14 Putney Friends Meeting Quaker Initiative to End Torture Update Noon Putney, VT

June 27-July 4 Friends General Conference- Abandon All Weariness fgcquaker.org Blacksburg, VA

July 15-19 North Pacific Yearly Mtg Keynote/Friend in Residence npym.org Missoula, MT

August 3-5 New England Yearly Meeting workshops neym.org Smithfield, RI

August 9 North Sandwich Friends Meeting Quaker Initiative to End Torture Update N Sandwich, NH

September 22-23 Dragonfly Transitions dragonflyadventures.com Klamath Falls, OR

September 25-27 Quaker Center weekend workshop quakercenter.org Ben Lomond, CA

Nov 6-8 2009 Powell House The Body as Temple for Spiritual Work Old Chatham, NY

Nov 14 Wellness Works workshops wellnessworksglendale.com Glendale, CA

PLEASE SEND A GIFT TO MY ADDRESS BELOW.
Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed.
A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as
my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 26, or a Christmas gift.

P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

IMPORTANT!
Postage is prohibitive. I need to reduce paper mail to actual live Beethoven Letter readers. I am happy to keep you on my Beethoven mailing list Email or paper. Simply send word. Please help by sending your e-mail address to calvij@sover.net or a postcard to P. O. Box 301 Putney VT 05346

Vermont Gay Marriage Hearing March 18 2009

2009-03-19T09:29:00.001-07:00

The Vermont State House Montpelier Vermont Public Hearings on Gay Marriage Bill Wednesday March 18 2009- John Calvi

The drive north form Putney is sprinkled with spring rain. The sky is shades of blue grey as the interstate moves between the Connecticut River in the East and a ridgeline of low mountains in the west. The temperature drops from 50’s to 40’s and snow melts on fields and mountainsides. I find a parking spot directly in front of the state house as though I’ve come home from work and found welcome. As I approach there is a guard at the entrance and I wonder if the long slim object carried at his shoulder is a rifle. But it seems to thin. Is it a large taser? Coming close enough to say hello, I see it’s an umbrella. When hearings were held here in 2000 on civil unions, Vermont had never received so many threats of violence nor filled the state house to capacity. The then governor refused state police requests that he not attend outdoor events, as his safety could not be assured. Instead, he attended many events wearing a bullet-proof vest for months.

Now years later the debate has changed- shall Vermont move from civil unions to gay marriage. The noise around this is less. The crowds are less fierce. But the feelings are still strong. The percentages have now shifted to pro marriage in the polls. The old scare tactics have lost their punch. Often weddings are cited as good business and we need to compete with Massachusetts.

I’m here two hours early and the crowds are small. Our local representative kindly invites me to tea in the cafeteria before the hearing starts. But I make a beeline for the best seat in the house- a large red velvet armchair just to one side of the podium in the House of Representatives. From here one faces the witnesses chair at the end of a long table where the senators sit listening to each witness giving testimony. I face the main door and can see almost every seat on the main floor plus the entire balcony. To my left will be security and I can overhear them discuss their operations. Soon after I sat down, the all the best seats are filled. 1 hour before show time, most of the room is full.

Familiar faces drift through the crowd. A small crowd from Putney has come by bus- Tim, the wonderful painter and his husband Philip the whale researcher have come with Eva our local Quaker lesbian commie and their neighbors Bari & Diane. Netflix says the most rented DVDs for our zip code is the L word- need one more proof of Putney’s bountiful lesbian population? There is also MaryAnn, a wonderful lesbian therapist who had a daughter in my classroom 30 years ago and Bill, a gay Vermont senator who brought me in to sing at the gay coffeehouse not quite 30 years ago. Vermont is small and neighborly. We’ve fewer than 700,000 people in the whole state and only one small almost urban area. We are also small geographically- one could drive the longest diagonal from the northwest corner to the southeast in about 3 hours on our one interstate- watch out for moose. Until recently, the governor answered his own phone.

Witnesses sign up to speak on either the pro or con list and the senators call each forward alternating back and forth, each with 2 minutes to speak. I signed in at #40. This means 80 people would have to be called for me to have a turn. Looking over the crowd and listening to each witness, there is a sense that Vermont’s burgeoning evangelical churches have made a strong showing with pastors and older congregants. They put forth similar ideas to what was heard in opposing civil unions 9 years ago- this is unnatural and against God’s law, the change in the definition of marriage is the beginning of the homosexual agenda to destroy civilization, science and morals don’t support the idea, etc. There was less fire and brimstone which cost them dearly in the last vote- the claim that frogs would fall from the sky and we’d be punished with AIDS just like Africa for going against God’s law ruined their efforts to gain support. The undecided people in the middle said- I may not be comfortable with civil unions but I don’t this it’s going to rain frogs! The pastors come in mainly two flavors- threatening God’s wrath or smarmy and smiling with all the warm of a hungry used car salesman. Both carry on with the most insulting declarations and all deny that any of this is meant to be personally insulting. How, I wonder, can I be accused of plotting the end of the family in American life and not hear something negative being cast upon me? Such is the magic of “Christianity” in its most un-Jesus-like forms.

The pro side includes more young people. There are fewer clergy but they tend to emphasis a loving God rather than the grouchy landlord who will fry your butt with just one step off the path. Also the pro side speaks about their lives and personal experience. There is little in the way of theory or abstractions. There is mention that this law is on the way to gay couples and their children receiving the 1200 or so federal benefits such as social security in the future. The con side describes theology and legal theories that feel as though they mask a huge fear of some unknown monster. Throughout, the senators face the speaker, listen and make notes. There is no sign of favoritism or opinion among them this evening.

There is not as much insult as there was before. One unfortunate man probably in his 40’s came forward to say he was a rape survivor and equated his wounding and the current bill as legalizing male rape. This brought the only loud response, a moan from the crowd making a clear statement that this was unfair testimony. It was a sad moment of hurt being used to blame and hurt others and the crowd wouldn’t stand for it.

In general, there is no understanding among the cons that describing gay people in the most insulting manner is their assumed privilege while they are under no threat of votes on their marriage. And believe me, I’ve got a few marriages I’d like to vote on!

This went on for 3 hours. Mostly everything had been said. Gay zoology, Adam and Eve, kids needs, proud Vermont history of progressive thought, God’s authority. I was just beginning to think I should leave when my name was called to testify. I immediately had a panic attack with my heart in my throat. I can’t imagine why- I’ve spoken to larger crowds easily, I’m a popular invited speaker, I had thought about what I’d say on the drive up, what’s the big deal? I tried to calm myself using prayer and straightening my posture, which was weary after 5 hours of being chair bound. I sat in the batter- up chair listening to the speaker before me.

This poor guy was in horrible pain. He came from some evangelical church and confessed that he had been an alcoholic and womanizer and that he was wrong and his sin shouldn’t be legalized and this sin of gay marriage shouldn’t be legalized either. He finishes up with his arms in the air yelling Jesus Christ Exalted Forever.

Now the odd thing is- I couldn’t wash myself of my tension while waiting to speak. But upon hearing his pain, I immediately settle down into deep prayer in body and mind to reach his layers of sadness and panic and lighten his load. It was as though I’d gone to the cosmic car wash because I was able to stop shaking and feel completely grounded. Oh service, be thou my savior.

I took the chair and spoke briefly from memory what I had planned to say. I was able to keep eye contact with the senators and treat them as though they’d had a long night too. I did forget one line I meant to put in the middle of my statement- I think the opposition we’ve heard tonight does not reflect the teachings of Jesus, which are kind and generous.

Here’s what I said-
My name is John Calvi from Putney Vermont. My husband, Marshall Brewer, and I were married by our Quaker meeting in Putney 20 years ago. Quakers have been marrying gay couples for 40 years now. I have a ministry among Quakers. I am an itinerant preacher. When I look at the issue we are discussing tonight, I think mostly it is caused by a mean nasty old rumor that gay people are not good. You have a wonderful opportunity here. You have the opportunity to make an improvement, to make history. I hope and trust that you will do the right thing.

Nothing memorable, but I sounded so good after the fellow in so much pain and confusion. I wished I’d remembered the part about Jesus, but there it is. There was one more speaker after me, then generous applause from the crowd thanking the senators.

I had some sense that the opposition feels beaten, unheard, their theological warnings unheeded. And it seems the votes are there for passage. The Republican governor has been unclear about signing or vetoing. He tends to wait and have his expensive pr consultants do a poll. I am hopeful and after the sadness of California’s vote I’d really like a victory of common sense. I also trust that in 50 years or less, people will shake their heads and say- what was that noise all about? www.johncalvi.com www.vtfreetomarry.org

/Users/johncalv/Desktop/GayMarHr3:18:09.JPG

The Old Way

2009-03-06T09:55:00.000-08:00

When did this become the old familiar way to be? I am taking the steps to lay my hands on someone and the work has already begun- my posture changes to very upright, my pace goes down to very slow so as not to scare a skittish horse, my hands land on the surface of that other person like heated air coming to warm a chill, and my breath becomes deep and slow. All this is without conscious thought, simply the way it’s done.

I can recall the first weeks at massage school and none of this happened- no awareness. Even second semester was not much improvement on my intention and tone. My kindness was evident but too many false moves, too little grounded-ness, and lots of un-sureness making trust difficult. I think it was the continuing work with rape survivors that taught me to go slowly, say little, and make firm contact in all ways.

There is something in showing that I will not be afraid of that ones pain no matter what I see- to hold steady and bare witness simply as a way of being with someone unfolding their worst. I remember in Swedish massage class that first I had to learn to work more quickly to make each massage stroke more sure and certain. Once I learned the form then I could consider pace and depth.

Thinking back to that time, I seem to be cleaning out all my own obstacles to my own best touch. I was learning how much came between myself and another when I was being unconscious, not being aware, not deliberately trying to join in being present.

There was also the work of listening. Now, without thinking about it, I am listening inwardly for what I might know from my own life experience, and listening outwardly to what is being told me and perhaps what is not being said, and thirdly I am listening for spiritual guidance that offers messages about what’s needed. I know I was completely numbnuts on this and had to be bludgeoned into noticing the obvious.

I recall a particular moment when I began work in the AIDS wars. I was doing massage on a man named Mikel. He was in decline and I was worried that I would not be good enough to help him die well. In a moment my being was filled with Light and I heard clearly that I do not work alone, that I was never alone, and I would be guided. This tender message washed me in comfort, the delight of knowing I was not working alone, and opened my heart to listen for more as time went on.

So many pieces now in place, so regular- all of them really hard fought and each learned over years and miles and many many people with long hours of hearing, seeing, feeling the worst. I feel like an old monk who goes deep soon, or an old baker that feels the rightness of dough without measuring, or maybe I feel like myself coming back around to myself after so many detours and distractions. It is a comfort to be really good at something after doing it for so many years. Maybe the changes that come will be small, maybe large, but the shift in tone, the peaceful quiet that comes at least is a rest from the worst for now.

Early Morning Light

2009-02-11T08:17:00.000-08:00

Early Morning Light – John Calvi

I haven’t put this story to paper before. I understand it differently now, maybe in ways I couldn’t have decades ago. It was early morning when the phone rang. A woman I’d taught with in prisons was calling. She’d just come back from the hospital with a young friend who’d been raped earlier that morning. Could I come do healing work at the survivor’s house now.

I shower, dress, and leave in haste of bodily motion. But in my mind I am quiet and prayerful. Be thou with me as I do this work. May I be a vessel of Light. It’s a long drive, giving me the time to go over what I’ve heard and then set the details aside to reach my deepest calm and feel the heat grow in my hands. No worries. No fear. Don’t interrupt the given flow of Light with mere human obstructions. Ride the high tide to deliver the best.

She’d been out late at a party. Walking back to her car in a dangerous part of town, this small young woman was literally picked up and carried in to an abandoned building by a much larger man. She struggled and was beaten. And when he was done, he just walked off leaving her in the dark and cold. From the police station, she called her friend. They met with the police at the hospital. And now they both were at the survivor’s home.

I come in slow and quiet. I need to see and feel her response to this assault before I begin any work. Is she tired and weary into calm or fretful? Is she still or pacing? Are words still too much to process or can simple conversation going slow happen without too much pressure. She is in pajamas in the living room. Showered and weary, she’s been given a sedative but hasn’t slept really. We don’t discuss particulars. She feels best close to her friend and not talking very much.

She lies on the carpet and we begin. I keep my hands soft and my touch firm. I only touch her head and limbs and do not approach the areas of trespass. I’ve done this work more times than I can count because sexually abused women make up the largest group on the planet. But always the work is years after the assault, not fresh like this.

There are not words to describe how it feels to open yourself to feel another’s pain come in to your body. There can be no flinching or wincing or partial acceptance. It’s beyond story or listening to the wailing or witnessing desperation. It’s a wave of knives forcing their way through. And any resistance catches like fishhooks. The task is to come in calm and strong. Stand and face the wave. Feel all of it’s meaning and dimension. And let it go through- the bull under the red cape, the car sliding sideways on ice, the grief of trespass, brutality, and disrespect without filter.

I touch her head and shoulders. I hold her feet. I hold her hands and draw down her arms. Each of these is a hello and can we connect essential energies. Mostly it feels like an empty garage, only a shell. But by and by comes that feeling of yes, I am here and soon a flood of that essence of her pushes to the surface. I draw this out as one would unfold a large tablecloth underwater to find the stains that need soap and scrubbing. More and more comes to the surface, show me all there is.

She is still lying quietly with little expression, no sound. And I am working up a sweat doing simple touches, all the heavy lifting is felt and not seen until- towards the end of the work I am sweeping my hands over her as though I am gathering up all the Light around her body. I am scooping up her most immediate and intense self to raise it upward, heaven-ward, for cleaning. And this is when tons of grief lift from her body, pass through mine, and are released. My face crumples with terrifying sadness, my arms stay aloft, and a rage and deep sadness washes through and is gone in moments. The friend sees this and identifies it accurately later. The survivor goes off to bed to sleep peacefully.

I have a long drive home in which to be in awe of those moments and the task of being faithful and doing more somewhere soon. I’ll see her a decade later at a funeral. She will thank me again and I become teary to hear her gratitude and remember that early morning Light.

And now it’s more than 20 years gone as I write this. Looking back I can see this miracle not of my making is what I wanted for the first battered woman I knew, my mother. To live with the unrelenting violence and no one making protection put a longing in me. How this longing became connected to warm hands to lift wounds out of the body is beyond my understanding. It’s a horrible gift- horrible and beautiful. Horrible because there are no gloves save focusing on the Light. And it cannot be done except in the war zone of that persons trespass. It’s beautiful because relief is witnessed over and over in the most splendid geometry of balance and rightness. It’s changed for me over the years, but the basics remain the same. Gathering enough reverence before is crucial. Rest and quiet afterwards are important too. I’ve made a small beautiful life so I can dip into gruesome. The older I get, the more beauty I need.

January Sabbatical Journal 2009

2009-01-18T19:08:00.000-08:00

Some travel these last few weeks, out of the New England winter. As this sabbatical closes, I find more and more moments of pondering this past year and seeing so much more of myself. It’s clear that I am a nicer person when I am working- something about the disciplines of work, setting the self aside, and not so me involved. It’s also true that I haven’t been this rested since I left working on the loading dock and had a long break before becoming a Montessori teacher in 74.

One of the more shocking revelations this year was to understand that I am old. Now, you may say that 56 is not old. But what I sense is that I was too busy to notice how hard I pushed over the years to get it all done. Each year I’ve had to push a little harder. This year of not pushing made obvious that my body is worn from the pace and the intensity. And I make myself laugh as I ponder simultaneously how can I make my life less intense and would it be possible to get to every yearly meeting in North America to teach about torture in the next year or two.

Other opposites present themselves to me. I have a growing sense of mercy in myself and my work over the years. I had so little of it early in life and have learned about mercy very slowly. Having mercy for rapists in my prison work when I was in the midst of my own incest work was a turning point decades ago. And that arc has increased. I can feel when I have no mercy on those impatient days when each moment seems fraught with the too-much of life. And I can feel the relief when I take a breath and become a wiser self that wants to be differently in the world.

Another opposite is feeling stronger and more alive in my body after these months of physical work, but saddened not to have lost weight. I remember a year ago thinking that 12 months was infinite and all manner of things would be possible. (I could even be tall and blond if I put my mind to it.)

To feel the relief of accomplishing some goals and the disappointment of feeling my limits gives me a more rounded view of myself. So often I’ve found myself blazing some necessary trail and insisting that something could be done, probably as a way to fend off my own fears of its impossibility. Stubbornness has its place as all progress comes from unreasonable people. And of course stubbornness is a personal obstacle to my own necessary changes. I want routine and avoid all structure. I crave peace and quiet, but am bored by stillness. I am intrigued by how trouble can be deconstructed.

Another change I've noticed: in Putney Meeting in Vermont and Claremont Meeting in California, I have noticed that I went deeply and quickly into the depths of the silence in meeting for worship. The hour flew by and left me hungry for more. The time was too short. Am I becoming a Buddhist? I am delighted to feel the depth and ease of spiritual entry. But I also notice I am dissatisfied with much of the spoken ministry. There's too much thinking, not enough sense of the spirit coming through. Am I becoming a grouchy old Quaker who wants to yell, "If you can’t improve upon the silence, then hush up! If you’ve only been here 15 years, keep listening! Quakerism is cumulative!" I am becoming exactly the person I would flee from as a young person.

Sabbatical has also given me time to go slowly enough to see that I need to be more careful with who I am. Often people ascribe power to me that is either news to me or I assume we all share equally. It’s not a pedestal so much as it is some sense that I do take up a lot of space and hopefully I will put this force to good use. It’s good that people in trouble are hopeful that someone else might be helpful. It’s a delicate balance to maybe be helpful without being seen as a solution. At the same time, there is a cultural reluctance to own the power that is given in the Light. In that moment of grace when healing comes, I know it’s a gift from above that only comes through me. I also know that to surrender my life to making this gift is to live a powerful life, a life in which my own innumerable imperfections are lessened in the midst of that Light.

One of the difficulties in a lifetime of healing work is that connection to the Light -- that moment when messages come and hands get warm and changes large or small are made and literal, linear thinking is overridden with new understanding for which words are insufficient. This moment can be such a bounty of peace and calm, an escape from one's deficits so as to make one a grace junkie. Yes, let’s go back to that place and stay longer. It also means that this on-going experience sets one apart from others who may have this sense only a few times in their life.

Because it is cumulative, going back to this well in any regular way makes life different. In some ways, this can make a life of healing work lonely. There is lots of connection to grace, not through any difference in me, but by calling, obedience, and duty. This makes a life separated from people who have less of it, not unlike having lots of money, being very attractive, or possessing artistic skills.

This is the hardest thing to describe without being misunderstood as arrogant. I know I’m not important. I also know my path is not shared by many. Is it arrogant to name this? Some will say, "Yes, who do you think you are?" Others will hear what I mean. And I know it’s easy enough to misunderstand, so I try not to get into it.

Here I am at the end of a time of rest and restoration. I’ve gotten done much of what I set out to do, but haven’t done all I’d hoped for. Now, I come back into the fray with some sense that I have a lifetime of experience which I can continue to make use of with people in the pain and confusion of trauma. As someone older in the work, I can’t do as much as I did when I was younger. It’s also true that as an elder in the work, I can do more with less effort. My overview and rest habits are better. While I have less patience with foolishness, especially my own, I love good, hard work, as when things are cooking hot and movement towards resolution of a long-held mystery is finally possible. Can the grief come out of this shoulder? Can we understand that torture is being done as a system and bring democracy to bear on ending it? Can I teach a large group how to reach their deepest quiet by relaxing their bodies and prepare for larger spiritual work?

That seems enough to me. Enough as a life work, enough as a faithful response to gifts given and calling heard, and enough to go on as I am able without stopping, finishing, or over-doing.

Meanwhile, I’ve begun editing transcripts of speeches for a book. Yesterday, I cleaned out a closet to find my winter coat. I found a dozen leather travel bags, all beautiful in their age and wear. I suppose as I look in the mirror I look the same: well-used, ridden hard, tough around the wrinkles, and buttery soft to the touch.

I am coming out of sabbatical incrementally. I am reluctant to return to listserves, but I am back to reading 6 newspapers a day. I have stacks and lists of things to do at my desk and have given most of the morning to the luxury of writing this. How do I get work done, keep balance and humor, and know that it’s enough? I swear off all guilt, rushing needlessly, and my tendency to feel a nap coming on before all large work.

Perhaps the most profound experience this past year is that enough people financially supported this rest. Enough people valued my work to grant me the luxury of time to rest. Imagine in these economic times that someone who lives mainly on gifts and works by invitation would ask for some time to lie down. Enough kindness and care came forward so this could happen. This is gigantic in my life. So, too, I must say is the love and care of my husband, Marshall Brewer, who helped me with QUIT work plus all my travel work these many years. And even now as he does his own job while finishing up a second masters degree, he still makes sure that I am on track for rest, nutrition, and being my best. 2009 is our 20th year married and I’m sure this accounts for my good work as much as any heaven-sent gift.

More than this, I’m not sure how to tell you what is new here in this snowy little corner of the world while awaiting the changing of the guard in Washington, and getting ready for my own busy year, and hoping this new man in DC remembers why he’s been chosen and all the good that needs doing.

2008-11-08T13:13:00.000-08:00

John Calvi’s Year End Letter 2008

Dear Friends,

A year ago I was finishing up another year of travel work and was quite weary. I said good-bye to several people with chronic conditions I’d been working with over the years, stepped aside as founder and convener of The Quaker Initiative to End Torture- QUIT, and began my sabbatical. My intentions were to rest and restore my body and mind for another 25 years of compassionate work. I separated myself from work entirely- no teaching about trauma or torture, no touch work healing trauma. I stopped reading 6 newspapers a day, got off listserves, and had an auto-reply for email- gone fishing.

At first I did much resting, always needing more than I knew. The torture nightmares ended and I slept through the nights. After some travel, I was painting the small upstairs of our little house, discovering that I had neither talent nor skill for such but had chosen the most wonderful blue. Various corners of the household got cleaned out- my archives got put into dryer, more useable space, linen tablecloths from years of thrift store finds became many pillow cases. It was a winter of resting and nesting.

With spring came outdoor work- mowing the field twice, moving tree limbs and collecting kindling. I hauled a thousand pounds of rock, soil, and flagstone. I created 2 new vegetable beds, a flowerbed, outdoor steps for our 3 south-facing doors, and began a rock wall. The goal of restoring my body with physical work was being met. I am stronger in body, toned muscles, clearer of mind, and grateful.

A couple of interruptions held sway. A diagnosis of osteoporosis in the spring was a shock and discomforting. A “heart event” this fall seemed to show what I thought was an inherited trait of an occasional slight cardiac arrhythmia needing only rest. But the cardiologist says no, it's unclear what happened and I am fine. Blood pressure is better but I have failed to lose enough weight to stop meds. Amidst all this, please know I am very well, active, happy, and glad to have rested now.

All in all, I am a much more healthy person- rested and cleared of accumulated body and mind fatigue. But the years, or actually the miles, are being revealed in my body during this long hibernation. I trust that my spiritual disciplines of rest and cleansing will mean years of good works to come. My leadings continue, well tested and honed, from years of being faithful, constant learning, and gratitude.

My work calendar begins in February 2009. I am feeling a renewed delight at the idea of being on the road and being of help once again. I’ve new appetite for teaching and touch work. I’ve warmed up my hands a bit this fall, which I’ve written about on my blog - see link from www.johncalvi.com

Working by invitation and gifts for 25 years has been miraculous. Now to have had a long rest supported by the grace of your gifts is a blessing beyond good care and respect. I am more grateful than I have words to share for this wonderful gift of sabbatical. As I set to work on a book of speeches in these last sabbatical months, please consider sending me a gift. Your good care and kindness has made all this possible for me to reach so many over time. Please help me continue.

In the Light,

PO Box 301 Putney VT 05346

John Calvi’s Partial Incomplete 2009 Calendar (as of Nov 08)

February 27- March 1 Powell House Deeply Relax to Deepen the Spirit powellhouse.org

Old Chatham, NY

March 29 Colorado Regional Spring Gathering of Quakers- talk on Spiritual Deepening Denver, CO

April 24-26 Woolman Hill Spiritual Disciplines for Healing woolmanhill.org

Deerfield, MA

May 29-31 Pendle Hill Lay Down the Burden and Rest pendlehill.org

Wallingford, PA

June 27-July 4 Friends General Conference workshops fgcquaker.org

Blacksburg, VA

July 15-19 North Pacific Yearly Mtg Keynote/Friend in Residence npym.org

Missoula, MT

August 3-5 New England Yearly Meeting workshops neym.org

Smithfield, RI

September 25-27 Quaker Center weekend workshop quakercenter.org

Ben Lomond, CA

Please send a gift to my address below.

I need your gifts during sabbatical to rest and prepare for another 25 years.

Definitions- tax law says a donation carries the expectation of work for which I am taxed.

A gift is given out of respect, affection, or charity, such as

my birthday- May 14, my wedding anniversary- August 28, or a Christmas gift.

“Chief among the sabbatical luxuries is solitude. I have always, all my life, needed more time to myself than anyone I know. It’s difficult to explain. Often it feels as though I am not sure what I am feeling until there is no one else around- as though others feelings clog my radar until what is mine is unclear. I did not consciously learn the discipline of solitude as a pragmatic professional and spiritual practice for someone of my gifts until I was in my 30’s. And then what might be possible unfolded in bright colors after years of yearning for goodness knows what. What was all this feeling and sensitivity for? Why could I feel where the trouble was in the room or in one person’s body? Why did I know the questions to help sort out confusion and pain but was too shy to speak or believe I might know something?” - sabbatical journal November 2008 - Blog via Website.

WWW.JOHNCALVI.COM

New engagement updates, photos, and writings at my website- Please see my journal BLOG now.

My thanks to Blake Arnall and Sehoon Ahn for website expertise.

John Calvi PO Box 301 Putney, VT 05346 calvij@sover.net 802/387-4789

November Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-11-08T13:00:00.000-08:00

I knew I was missing teaching. The whole dynamic of observing someone and offering something that might be of help is just so ingrained in me. I began teaching swimming to non-swimmers at a 4-H summer camp when I was 14 years old. And began my training as a Montessori teacher at 22. After 10 years of teaching in schools and summer camps, I went to massage school and was teaching massage for trauma by the time I graduated. So this sabbatical time of not teaching has been restful. But once all the naps were taken and I began to feel restless and longing for traveling, I just got this itch. I needed to teach something, even just a little.

We had driven to Keene, New Hampshire for Marshall to choose new glasses frames. I was sitting waiting impatiently as I so often do. I really shouldn’t be allowed to be bored. I turn into one of those kids at the back of the bus up to no good. I was watching a mother and daughter trying on new frames, asking each other how do these look. The daughter found a pair she really liked, put them on, and asked her mom- how do these look? I said, “I don’t like them. You have very beautiful eyes and the frame should surround your eye socket to frame your eyes and those frames just block us from seeing you and your beautiful eyes. Try that round pair.” They both looked at me dumbfounded. Then the mother said, “John Calvi! I’d know that voice anywhere. I’ve taken workshops with you at 3 different Quaker meetings.”

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I was lost in a large supermarket looking for something I couldn’t find and not sure what I would substitute for this recipe. I was also feeling a bit lost on one of those gray days when you wake up and not sure what you are doing in your life and one seems neither as cute or smart as yesterday and what disaster might be on it’s way coming and I don’t feel well but maybe I’m just worried but not sure what about kind of days. That’s when a woman made her way up to me in my befuddleness and said, “I know this is not the place to say this but I just want to say that your work with me all those years ago saved my life and I will be ever grateful to you for your gifts in healing work.” It was a balm to my unsteadiness.

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Sometimes when one is lifted out of the water, there is no sense of place or purpose. I’ve had some of that this sabbatical. I’ll be out into the day and with free time I might get to worrying what am I doing with myself and my life. Sometimes this comes in a voice of doubt and impatience, which completely ignores all I’ve been doing. It helps to remind myself of another time- I was exhausted and resting at Pendle Hill the Spring term of 1990. I had traveled to teach to 30 groups in one year and helped several friends with AIDS to die. I was really pooped. And by and by as I rested but had no work of my usual healing trauma topic to tend to, I came to wondering who I was and what was I doing and where had gravity gone now that I had stepped out of my work harness. I was feeling particularly lost one day when someone said to me in passing, “I didn’t know you wrote that wonderful song. That’s great”, she said with a big smile. “Yes”, I said trying to be casual, “I was so happy when Meg Christian recorded it.” “What?” she said, “I was talking about A Little Gracefulness by the Short Sisters. What song did Meg do of yours?” “The Ones Who Aren’t Here”, I said. Now she had big tears in her eyes and said, “You wrote that?! That is my most favorite song ever!” It was just the little boost I needed to remind me who I was amidst my drifting.

Of the many wonderful aspects of sabbatical- unscheduled time, release from duties, self-care- I find the most luxurious to be time and space within my own mind to wonder. Maybe I am waking up late or stacking firewood or driving to visit a friend. As I leave the patterns of work and over-work and choose more simple tasks, there is a softening of focus. Instead of keeping track of multiple projects and keeping a hard focus on sequence, information, and quality of mind and touch- I am doing some physical motion simple enough to allow ideas and thoughts to come and go as my mind wanders. And the longer this becomes the new practice, the better I am at noticing when something important comes along or some thought is just a delight and a lift to my being, just being. As I wonder about my life, how’d I come here to this now, what is it I know and understand, and what are the parts I haven’t a clue of and might I know more than I think I do- all safely wondered and gazed at in slow motion. And in some wonderful quiet and still moments comes news of what I now can understand of some knot that has been tied tightly for so long. It’s as though a deep breath has come at last to the thirsty lung.

Chief among the sabbatical luxuries is solitude. I have always, all my life, needed more time to myself than anyone I know. It’s difficult to explain. Often it feels as though my clearest sense what I am feeling isn’t possible until there is no one else around- as though others feelings clog my radar until what is mine is unclear. I did not consciously learn the discipline of solitude as a pragmatic professional and spiritual practice for someone of my gifts until I was in my 30’s. And then what might be possible unfolded in bright colors after years of yearning for goodness knows what. What was all this feeling and sensitivity for? Why could I feel where the trouble was in the room or in one person’s body? Why did I know the questions to help sort out confusion and pain but was too shy to speak or believe I might know something?

As sabbatical has gone on I’ve grown used to the vast luxury of time and not pushing. It feels like the rest of a lifetime, an island of calm I only dreamed of. Part of me wants to live here as a contemplative and live in the quiet. An equal part of me wants to use this immense gift of time and restoration to reenter the fray of trauma and torture work. I will have to toss the salad carefully in the future as these are not opposites within me but rather dancing partners needing each other for balance. The quiet and stillness and wonder and solitude bring all my best self, all my strength, and all my learning forward. And the work moves all the learning and readiness into a dance. The task again and again is to be graceful. Not to stay at rest nor to live solely in work but to have each refresh and inform the other in every cycle, at all levels.

How odd to understand this now when maybe half my working years are done. On the one hand my mentors gave me just what I needed all along the way. On the other hand, I spent the first 18 years surviving and didn’t begin to inventory the damage and wash the wounds until later. Like each of us, I am right on time- no matter how much in my impatience I would like it to be different.

October Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-10-11T06:08:00.000-07:00

October Sabbatical Journal 2009

I really wanted to help. Any mother who has lost two children needs help and in her particular culture grief is done in very restrictive ways. To lose a spouse, a sibling, a parent, a dear friend- all can be very sad. But to lose a child is the worst burden of grief known to humans. And to lose two- once as a young mother and later as an old woman, this called for the wailing and screams not permitted. She is short and cheery. An immigrant of many years, she speaks little English. She’s heard only a little about me and seen me just a bit but when someone in her family says he might help, she says yes. As soon as my hands are over her, I want to run away in terror. If you’ve smelled death and thought you might retch, or seen too much blood and thought you might pass out, well, think of feeling so much grief that your heart would break forever. That’s what I felt and there are no gloves in this work- only allowing the feeling to wash over me and move through. No flinching, no cowering, stand facing the wave and feel every bit of myself joining her experience as though it were my own feeling. My face breaks into weeping and my mouth is contorted though I am silent. I know anyone with any measure of antenna can feel this down the block and around the corner. Marshall felt it in the kitchen- ultimate sadness he called it. I am a bit out of practice. Eleven months of sabbatical with no hands on work and no teaching has lessened my preparation disciplines. So when I enter the work her wave of grief feels larger than it would otherwise. I am not removed by focusing on the Light nor swathed in reverence as I would usually be. As I moved my hands above her and slowly touch her neck and shoulder and belly and feet and knees and hips, I wonder if my guidance is less or my capacity to hear it is less because this witness happened while I was tired and spontaneously without preparations. I wonder if the heart troubles I’ve been having, which have tired me, will be touched by exhaustion. Mostly I am with her and yearn with all my heart for her relief. I’ve asked her to say her favorite prayer while I work and I can’t quite feel if her spiritual connection is working so as to move the work along. On the one hand, all this is familiar and regular- I have my hands on someone in terrible distress again and I am as completely present as possible and know what will come is not up to me and I will be grateful for any blessings. I hope some grace for her learning will make the way smooth or smoother. On the other hand, I am 11 months into a 14-month sabbatical and some of my muscles, as they should be, are slack. What tension is necessary for full attention? What of my own stuff obscures? I don’t know how long we worked- time seems so unlikely as a measure or something unreal during work. But I feel I’ve touched all places I’ve been led to and it’s time to close. I remove my hands from her feet and stand above her. I swoop my hands in the Tai Chi move of Big Cloudy Hands gathering up all her energy and raise my arms to the ceiling, heavenward, with feelings of thanks and here she is and please give what’s needed. And as I lower my arms hoping some gifts are washed over her, I step back and raise my hands again asking to be washed and to say thank you for this opportunity to love and as I bring my hands down I cross my arms in front of my torso and finish standing straight my feet in good balance position holding my whole body without stress, palms down. I ask her to rest a while and this is translated to her. She nods without opening her eyes. It’s time for me to leave. It was a very large witness. Later at home, I drink a large glass of something very cold and lie down for a nap where I sleep deeply and gratefully the rest of the afternoon. I hear later that she laughed for the first time in a long time. So much here that is beyond words- the gifts, the disciplines, the Light that washes, the reverence.

August & September Sabbatical Journal 2009

2008-09-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

Sabbatical Journal August & September 2008

It wasn’t very dramatic or even scary really. Just waking up on a Saturday and feeling like I’d slept on something wrong which now needed to be stretched out to restore circulation- an arm maybe or just a hand. But it was my heart. I could feel the rhythm was off and I felt a bit light headed. I wasn’t in pain, no nausea, no sweats- just some sense that something important was a bit off regular. I had a shower, felt more light headed, sat on the couch and told Marshall, and then called my cousin Annette- Super RN. Time for a clinic she says. We are on Cape Cod and the EKG at the clinic shows things are a bit off. I take the suggested ride in the ambulance because it seemed unfair to Marshall to drive me, and my possible heart attack an hour to the hospital, though I didn’t feel sick enough to warrant an ambulance. With oxygen, all symptoms disappear. 3^rd and 4^th EKGs are normal. It seems that some backside of my heart didn’t get quite enough oxygen but other than that I don’t have enough illness to show what’s wrong. A stress test with my hospital later on at home shows only a normal 57 year old over weight who seems stubborn enough to go longer than needed to show he’s fine.

I did have a moment or two in the ambulance when I set aside the idea that I was really OK and opened to the idea that maybe this was serious and I was in trouble. What would I do about open-heart surgery? Or not being able to work or go upstairs? Of course, I didn’t take the middle road consideration, which is order the chicken Caesar and 86 on the next 10 bacon cheeseburgers. I had a sad deep moment about surgery and large life changes/limitations. And then I got back to the moment and felt badly that Marshall had to drive alone on a beautiful morning when we should have been at the beach while I got to enjoy a very perky EMT and be in an ambulance going very fast without being in pain or scared much.

I had been working outside most of June and July. I schlepped about 1,000 pounds of soil, lumber, and flagstone into the back yard for garden beds and placed the flagstone outside the 3 south facing doors. After planting the garden and mowing the 3 acres of slope, I began making a stonewall. I got a stairs mostly made and laid some very large rocks as the wall base. And then I stopped.

Something inside had shifted. Instead of going outside to work, I thought of things to do in the house or errands to run. I was anxious, restless, and couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t bring myself to return to the discipline of daily outdoor work, which I’d arranged for my own health. Instead I’d sort a linen closet or clean a desk or oil the dining room table or shop a secondhand store for some bargain (a $90 Sabatier cleaver for $4- oh ye of little faith keep shopping!).

So, I watched this tension and fear moving in me and wondered at its source. It took a few weeks but on a long drive through beautiful Vermont farmland on a gorgeous summers day, it became clear. As I worked outside I could feel my body change. Muscles were more flexible, blood pressure lower, and my posture shifted from fat out of shape person to fat stronger person preparing to lose weight. And very quietly deep within me I could feel the young child sexually abused not wanting to lose the protection of being fat and unattractive. Some moments of sadness, some quiet grief for this young part of me. And then sorting out the puzzle.

The puzzle- I am on sabbatical to become more healthy and return to work. Part of more healthy is losing weight. My blood pressure requires it- I might be able to get off medication if I lose 30 pounds. I’ve osteoporosis (I’ve testosterone therapy stories that shouldn’t be told in public!) and the weight lifting helps bone retain calcium. My sleep disorder of not getting down to REM sleep is better with physical work. How then to tend to this young resistance within me and get back on the path? Patience, calm, and reassurance- in all ways, at all times- this is what I learned as a Montessori teacher of young children for 10 years.

Today I spent the morning and afternoon mowing our field. It was my first day back outside working hard. My heart was into the work and I never got winded as I did mowing back in June- so my body must be getting better. Resistance came only in hints and calm reassurance seemed to be enough. It will take me another 2 days to finish the mowing. And then there are 3 cords of wood to stack. And I’d like to paint at least the south side of the house before it gets cold. And I’ll also need to clean out the tool shed and collect kindling before I move the wood shed. Back in a groove, it seems. Oh yes, the stone wall should get done in there too along with emptying the night soil from the outhouse. Plus bring in the tomatoes for spaghetti sauce. 10 pints of pesto already in the freezer.

In my spare time, I need to convene a clearness committee to ponder re-entering my work opposing torture. I’ve some questions to ask others and seek their questions to increase my understanding, broaden my horizon. Other than that, not much else is new.

22 Years Later - September 14th

2008-09-14T19:47:00.000-07:00

22 years ago today, Marshall and I met for the first time. It was the last warm day of summer. I was at the gay swimming hole in the area, the Rock River and he came along. In all this time what amazes me most is that we love each other more. Over time the surrender to deeper love has become greater. I had no inkling of this in the marriages I saw coming up. And up to that time I had never known a gay couple for any length of time that were long term. I’ve always seen marriages that don’t feel quite right to me. There seems more separation than joining, more not quite knowing one another as deeply, and not noticing when the breath around the other changes. Our marriage is my greatest teacher about myself, the world, and observing the dance we enter into with another at any level. I wonder at times why this miracle has been granted me. I think of others I’ve known who never got a chance for true love anywhere in their lives that I could see. I remember the poverty of that state for myself. And from that former vantage point I could never have envisioned the tenderness and togetherness I experience now. One does not learn swimming or driving or sex from a book. And the blending with another life to know all of one another is a path that can be learned, but I can’t imagine it being taught. I remember my first response to knowing I have come upon something very different from what I had ever known was fear. YIKES! This had more power than I’ve seen before. What might this power mean? More chance to be hurt? More need? More work? Yes, all of that and more. I think the thing about great love is that it asks more than we can give and gives more than we can receive. And that balance of too much is a teacher in giving and receiving that goes on and on. Can we increase our receiving? Yes, thank goodness. Can we increase our giving? Yes and hooray for that too. But for me the learning has been slow. I think it took the first 7 years of being together for me to really begin to let in this other life. And by now we have a much more graceful dance. We’ve just had a few days on Cape Cod for vacation. Marshall came down with a cold, which limited our time out and about. I woke up on the next to last day with my heart not quite feeling right and had an EKG at each end of an ambulance ride- more on that anon. My main point being that we did our dance of meeting change, maybe disappointment or fear, in maybe the most graceful we’ve ever done. Sure the vacation was changed, but how we were with one another only increased in care and meeting the other where we were. Had these events happened 10 or 15 years ago, I don’t think it would have been as smooth. And like spiritual life, romantic life is cumulative- the more you show up and do the dance, the better one becomes at the dance itself and understanding what the dance is and how to be most graceful. And this shows you who you are at essence- something nearly impossible to find in the midst of noisy American popular culture. I know there are all kinds of teachers and learning situations. Disasters, great gifts, huge change, small learning adding up to larger visions- all are teachers when used well. But I am especially grateful that in my 56 years I’ve had these 22 years of learning in a very specific classroom of life called true love and that together we are acing the surprise quizzes thus far.

Switching Reverence

2008-09-01T20:31:00.000-07:00

Here is a problem/puzzle I am wondering at these days. In the very early days of my work a wonderful healer, Jean Schweitzer, suggested that I needed to engage more directly with practices of reverence to keep myself clear as I touched trauma clients and witnessed absurd amounts of pain. This was very helpful. Over the years a number of ideas, practices, and disciplines have been used. My capacity to be with others pain grew and my own fatigue in the work lessened. The spiritual gift of being able to sense another’s pain and to release it became encased in tones of reverence, a practiced discipline. A second skin comes in proper sequence for balance and clearing.

Now here’s the hitch. One goes on sabbatical to rest from the work and reassess how to proceed after 25 years of good works. One stops touching and teaching and following the sense of pain seeking to be of help. And so where does that wisdom of the second skin come into play? Where in the daily living is one to find what has been associated work when no work is allowed?

Rest goes well. I feel much of the physical fatigue has lifted. I can read about torture with interest once again and even allow myself to wonder how long would it take me to teach about to torture at every monthly meeting in my yearly meeting- but not allow myself thought beyond wonder.

I’ve always taught that gratitude is the prow of being/becoming graceful. I can feel my gratitude increase with rest and space and time without schedule. But I need to find some ways to implement moments, breaks in the rhythm of the day, and routine-ize some reverence where in the care for myself during sabbatical has the same quality of Light and grace as my former work in the world. Is that right? It seems so but I am still wondering about this.

Does the intention of being spiritual for the self carry different qualities? Does all my learning have to be vicarious? I learned of my own learning disabilities teaching children to read. I freed my own body of years of old fear as I changed my body in preparing to work on others’ bodies. Always teaching becomes simple reminders of what I know but don’t always do- do I learn so reluctantly? Changes, shift of routine, learning to trust mid-air – these are always my biggest learnings. That and not taking betrayal so personally. Life long teachings for me that seem to come in various forms over and over.

There does seem to be a blessing with non-verbal physical work. What feelings, ideas, wonderings that need to float up do so better when simply stacking firewood, building a stonewall, or painting the bedroom.

The grace or Light that comes upon me as I go into work washes all worry, clears posture, eliminates doubt, and makes a full sense of well-being and that all good possibilities are within reach- such a deal.

Watching Bill - July 1995

2008-09-01T15:55:00.000-07:00

I recently found this journal page about my dear beloved & departed friend Bill Kreidler when we were roommates at a large Quaker conference. His death with AIDS in 2000 brought me the largest grief I have known. This journal was the beginning of loving him against the rush of time and illness, and feeling the lush joy of loving someone so completely.

Watching Bill- July 1995

He slept until the alarm rang and took a large handful of pills after breakfast. His clothes and things were scattered all around the room. He always said goodnight before putting his earplugs in and went to sleep on his side. It was never longer than two minutes before his breathing was deep and slow. There were all sorts of people who wanted to have the pleasure of his company, to be with him and feel his smile, his quick wit, his generous humanity. He never took a mouthful of food before praying and he only said wickedly funny things about people when he was with one good friend or a few select ones. He understood that messages and leadings came at any time and in many ways. Some part of him was always listening for the next ideas the Divine would send him. He danced with a four year old in the dance contest on Friday night. She felt confident and beautiful the way only children awash with care and comfort can. I wept as I watched them, wondering how in the world had I been so fortunate to have this dear friend so many years in my life and how many more would I have this outrageous luxury. All that was good and tender about him showed in the careful way he held her hand and led her in a simple tap dance. It was the respect and joy that we wish and pray for each child. It was the peaceable kingdom revealed in a fun little dance. He dressed up in my new silk pants and kimono and strode down the hall to the full-length mirror flowing and rippling like the delighted child he was. He is more beautiful now than at any time in his life- and in all ways. Can that be? Is all life so? Does everyone, or everyone who's trying, make their life so much better that by and by it has a glow to it? There were times when I watched him just for the joy of feeling all my love for him. Can it be only sixteen years that I have known him? There isn't anyone in my family that I know as well. His long lean body is more toned now than ever. And his love of the irreverent and of sexuality has only grown deeper. From our dormitory window, we watched a young man tending the grounds. As his muscles heaved the wood chips from the cart to the evergreens, Bill was clear that we were witnessing one of the many cathedrals God had made. We watched a long time with the breathy appreciation of young girls and made the comments to each other of not-young men beyond the reach of such beauty laughing at themselves. He talked about his love of sex outdoors with the same passion that he talked about his revelations during prayer. He loved laughing more than most things and good stories or sharp one-liners delighted more than words can say. He could talk about people and their lives with care and mercy even, or maybe especially, if they had hurt him. His understanding of forgiveness was large and articulate. He saw it as the crux to resolving conflict and to making life worth living, particularly for the wounded. He felt a duty to share what he knew that took him beyond comfort and into tasks of great work. He spent the time before bed telling me what he had seen and heard that day while he set certain things in place for the next day- his papers and bible, his clock, his briefcase, his AIDS pills. He wore his regular sort of Land's End/ LL Bean-ish kind of outfits and never looked unready.

July Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-09-01T15:49:00.000-07:00

July Sabbatical Journal 2008 - John Calvi

Marshall and I have just had a week vacation at home, a decision of budget and simplicity. There was much need of rest, deep rest, spontaneous rest, and some fun- but no planning or effort or schedule. His work this spring reached 70 & 80 hours a week with counseling graduate students applying to his college, teaching English as a second language to community college immigrants, and taking classes towards his second masters, a masters in teaching. Insomnia, which has plagued him since doing some work in Ireland in 1988 and his body clock never quite fully returned, made for further wear and tear. Plus a decision at the upper levels of college administration to decrease and probably eliminate the program he recruits for includes bad politics, some slander, and a growing dishonesty. Yes, a big rest- empty the mind, be surrounded by favorite possibilities. So, some lovely dinners with friends, catching up with people he missed in busyness. And a solid rule that a nap could be had any time. Helping a friend to move gave us a lovely teak coffee table too big for our house. Replacing the outdoor gas grill and making some favorite foods and some time with his colleagues leaving the college in a political migration was great fun. And an adventurous removal of trash and recycling that brought spaciousness to the tool shed. The list of what didn’t get done is long. We kept saying someone should mow the lawn. Rest and time together as a first priority was achieved.

When I was a school teacher, a Montessori teacher of 3 – 6 year olds, there was a month near the end of my 10 year career when I was really tired of being in the classroom. It was June and the beautiful summer days in Vermont beckoned as I remained in the church basement classroom with 24 kids. I called a circle and all came and sat on the big green and blue braided oval rug. “Let’s go to the park.” I said. “No, we want to stay here and work,” they said. There was no escaping it, too much success.

I’ve had similar discussions with myself of late. I spent a month doing lots of outside work each day and then retreated indoors. It was some combination of heat and lack of discipline. My body would say- let’s go build that stone wall! And I’d find something else to do inside. But I could feel my body was right. After lots of work I was sleeping better and my body was tightening up, my clothes were looser. But now this procrastination stymies progress. So I began the stonewall. How odd that all the disciplines I have for work to serve others seems so elusive in serving myself. I am wondering how it is that what I need and know to be good for me seems to be just beyond my decision to reach. How odd human beings are. How odd I am in knowing myself and not knowing.

Years ago, Marshall removed a stonewall at the entrance to our little house. Huge rocks were tossed on the slope south below the greenhouse. I began to move all these rocks down to the terrace. Some of the rocks are much larger than I can lift. So, I roll them downhill a bit and hope to stay out of their way. This creates a showroom of rocks to choose from and frees up the slope where the wall will be. I have to prepare the slope by ripping out weeds, chasing out snakes, and making straight lines of earth where none exists. I’ve never made a wall before. But I am thinking it’s in my blood as a first generation Italian immigrant. I am hoping it will lean back just a bit as a retaining wall, be parallel to both the greenhouse, which is above the wall, and the raised garden beds I built last month that lie below the wall. I’m hoping to make more garden beds once the wall is done and to place the heat loving plants like tomatoes near the wall. As the sun brought over 80 temps, my resolve melts. As I begin building stone steps I try to listen to the stone as I listen to someone’s body when I place my hands on them to hear what should happen, how to help or place hands. Stone are more difficult to hear for me somehow or maybe I just need more practice. I stand on the house roof, take a photo of my progress, and see I’ve a long way to go. Sometimes the placement is just right.

I am interested to watch my thoughts wander as I work. Ideas, memories, songs, poems, quotes, people I miss- all seem to waft through as I try not to pin my own foot under some small boulder. I am noticing, at 56, that life seems long. How many people have I known? How many circles of people have I moved through of friends, Quakers, healers, teachers, kids, musicians, family, etc? I find myself wondering where is so and so now? Did he die? What was his last name? How did I end up living with those people in that house in Boulder? What was it Elizabeth said about writing that I meant to remember that time we went out to Thai supper? As my body and one part of my brain lifts and moves heavy rocks, another part of my brain wanders and shifts in memory and wonder. I can feel strength return to my posture as I work. I can see our home change and become better. I can feel the space within and without as I release myself into the work and a there’s contentment nothing else brings.

June Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-09-01T15:23:00.000-07:00

Sabbatical Journal June 2008 John Calvi

It took a month to get the annual Beethoven Letter out- much longer than usual. Partly because my office systems were not kept up over the last few years with all my QUIT work, so address updates delayed me. Also I’ve 3 different computer programs for Email, paper mail addresses, and bookkeeping so it’s hard to find and keep complete records. The return to desk work cramped my brain with details and deadlines. Amidst this was a death in the family and giving the eulogy before my large family in my hometown small Catholic church where I had first communion in 1958. Sabbatical was derailed getting out the annual letter and as I cared for beloved cousins and waded through my own history of family in hometown.

Now it is early June and I am back working outside and it is a tremendous relief to both my body and mind. At the edge of my thinking is how will I return to the work of ending torture. What are the parts I am lead to and best at, what parts wear me down, and how to reenter the dance. But all this is only wondering without deep seeking or research , so as not to interrupt rest. But each day it comes to mind. Mostly my mind is removed for this but not entirely, not for long.

We’ve a few acres of meadow on a south-facing slope surrounded by pine, hemlock, and hardwoods. The meadow lies below the house where the slope continues into the woods down to a beaver pond and further downhill to a college for learning disabled young adults. Our field is being taken over by an invasive species of shrub called Buckthorn- a European import used to make hedgerows. We’ve rented a walk-behind brush hog that will cut small trees and I’ll take 2 days to schlep this noisy thing up and down hill and force back the onslaught. I remember hearing tales of Findhorn and certain plants asked to thin out or become more plentiful- would be lovely to work at that level. My spiritual communication is less than that.

I’ve been clearing a triangle of land above the house between the driveway and the road where two trees were taken down. I’ve gathered the logs for firewood and now am hauling the branches off into the woods hoping the deer will use them for windbreaks in the long winters. But I’ve started too late and each branch is entwined with briars, vines, and more Buckthorn making each move a tug of war until I find my footing, summon all my stubbornness- never really an issue as some know, and haul off another limb to be stacked. It would be lovely to put all this through a chipper and spread it below the 30 high bush blueberries we have at the bottom of the field, but that’s not a choice for now as this must be done quickly.

This afternoon I began to clear the old garden bed where we grew vegetables before 3 things got in the way- 1- a woodchuck who ate everything, including jalapenos, but the tomatoes and basil. 2- Marshall’s second masters meant he had no time for anything but working, eating, and sleeping. 3- I took on the QUIT work and gave up the gardens and yard. The whole outside around the house looked so abandoned that the deer began to live right up next to the house and thought it rude when we came out the door. The crack in the outhouse framing causing an updraft is another story, soon to be history.

I found 2 snakes who preferred I not retake the garden and I uncovered a pile of rocks that I will make into a stonewall if all goes well this summer. As my energy ebbed I settled into painting some plywood for an outdoor table and taking down 3 wind chimes for repair. Yards of fish line and a couple hours later, they’re ready to go back outside. One chime is particularly wonderful- it plays the chord outlawed by the Catholic church called the Devil’s tri-tone which evokes doubt, questions authority, and brings one out of settled patterns- quite subversive for a few notes!

I’ve two challenges at this point half way through my sabbatical- first - keeping the disciplines of physical work each day, staying hours outside and working my body hard. And the discipline of eating less heavy to lose weight, regain muscle tone, and lower blood pressure. While I can claim more capacity for stubborn when I decide to do something, I have a hard time changing patterns. I spent half my life underweight. And now to have to work to regain my body is more or less a shock as though I suddenly find myself in Japan and having to find a way home- quite odd. Second is finding ways to keep reverence before me in palpable ways. I’ve spent decades surrendering to spiritual guidance to do hands-on healing work. This process has meant being washed as I seek to make a gift to another. And now, without the urgency of another’s pain, I am having to find the stillness to bring this washing upon myself and interrupt the daily noises of life in the world. Really, it’s sort of like doing something left-handed for the first time- not impossible, but takes some thinking, some thoughtfulness, and some patience. Both these disciplines are so out of pattern to the life I’ve built over these past 25 years of healing work that I’m having to navigate new waters and set new ways of being. Instead of having just enough energy to do the work of healing/teaching/on-the-road/QUIT, now I am working to rest as much as I need and then work as much as possible but none of the previous work and none of the previous ways. Keeping all this in mind always is a push.

I made good progress on this while painting the upstairs, loss some of this while getting out the B-letter, but now I am back in the groove and hoping to stay groovy. It helps that summer is my favorite time and that my body is responding so well as I do work. I can feel my posture shift and muscle tone restored more each day. I’m feeling very blessed to be here now.

May Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-09-01T15:22:00.001-07:00

Sabbatical Journal May 2008- John Calvi

Getting my annual letter out was very difficult. Sabbatical since Thanksgiving spoiled me- staying away from my desk, not even thinking about my trauma or torture work. I’ve been very successful. But now face the office mess- 10,000 emails from the last 30 months have to be culled for new addresses- yes, 10,000. 80 pages of street address labels have to be gone over to note who has died, moved, etc. Oh, merciful heavens- grant me in my next life a secretary and computer literacy! Changes for the website need to be edited and sent to the new daddy with less website management time. Envelopes have to be printed and can I get all this done before the rates go up? No, a phone call about a death in the family changes everything- no matter. As I go through each persons name and address I have memories of this ones face and that ones story and the other ones pain- 25 years and thousands of people. I am awash in revisiting my own journey of helping others. Some part of me aches to stop sabbatical interruption. And there is also an ache to know what is now happening with this one and that one who I know are in crisis but working without me so I can rest. Life can be so rich in love and healing and not enough time to feel even half of it as the noise of the world pushes us each along- not enough reverence or time.

Once upon a time I was upstairs making the beds with my mother when she said, “I found a pistol in your fathers dresser drawer. I’m afraid he will come home drunk one night and shoot us all in our sleep so I’ve given it to your uncle to take away. If Daddy asks you anything, tell him I told you I threw in it the river.” Decades later I’m retelling this memory during therapy and wondering if I am remembering right. I call this uncle one evening and explain. “No”, he says, “I don’t remember any gun. Maybe it was another uncle.” We talk for a bit and hang up. But 10 minutes later he calls to say my aunt has reminded him of the gun and yes it did happen, it was a Beretta. He didn’t remember it because he got rid of it- it was broken and could have gone off accidentally. I asked what year that was and he said he was just back from a trip to Okinawa so 1960- I was 8 years old. This was the madness, violence, and stupidity I waded through in my parents’ house as a child. That uncle died today in surgery as they tried to mend his heart, but it was too late, too far gone. He’d just celebrated his 50^th wedding anniversary with his family all around him two weeks ago. When I reach back to recall this new man married into the family, I see a tall handsome young man so happy and strong, who loved children and was so clear about right and wrong. He made me feel safe whether he was teaching me to swim, use a microscope, or explaining the lives of insects. He was a bright light who did some kindnesses along the way to save a life here and there. I did have 2 moments of repaying his kindness. Once when I told him he was the only adult who ever acknowledged how bad things were in my house and offered to take me to his house whenever I wanted, forever if I chose. He was very happy for my gratitude. Several years later, when he had lost a leg to disease and was newly walking on a prosthetic, I did some massage and energy work on him in his home. He was not easy to get to sit still in that big easy TV chair but somehow I was able to sneak up on him and soon found out he was particularly susceptible to energy work. He lapsed into a trance of calm and quiet he hadn’t known even in sleep for a very long time. It was a gift of peacefulness, a loss of pain and worry beyond his understanding and very beautiful for me to see- a tiny bit of payback, of returned kindness for him that washed me also. Giving the eulogy in the big Catholic church was odd and familiar. I named his essence, made people laugh and cry. Ministry feels second nature. But with my large sprawling family with whom I am largely estranged, few of whom know my work, felt like doing the usual in a past life setting. I was a comfort to his family who are dear to me and know me well. I was very grateful and happy to do hard work and be of use.

May 24th Beethoven Letter 2008

2008-09-01T15:11:00.000-07:00

The 24^th Beethoven Letter by John Calvi

Dear Friends,

Sabbatical is very wonderful and different. Each month I find a lower gear in resting from overwork. It began with a trip west to see Marshall’s family in Southern California- some time in the desert, some time at the coast, and the start of abandoning my desks, computers, emails, and phones. My sabbatical task is to move all my energies in caring for others towards my own well being. This is odd and I recommend it. I began a news/newspapers fast and focused on painting the upstairs of our little house. A deep blue now makes all the wood trim glow golden in morning and evening light. Remind me to tell you about the wall falling down. I’ve no talent for painting or repair, but delight in every improvement.

To not take care of anyone has been an adjustment. I resist the urge to call any number of people to check on their trauma recovery and instead care for myself- nap, read, or begin the next house project. I changed the toilet seat in the outhouse. This new discipline prepares me for work to come.

Spiritually, sabbatical restores my humor, gratitude, stillness, a quiet mind, and a clean connection for seeking. I can feel my ragged edges reshape to the dovetail of knowing and learning. I have good things to wonder about- how has my leading grown since 1982, can I keep my improved wellness beyond sabbatical, how will age contour my work, what am I learning that others may want to know? One gift of sabbatical is that I can keep the questions, refine them, and await the new learning patiently.

Sabbatical is not only time out. It’s also a health necessity. A hormonal imbalance has been implicated in my struggle of the last dozen years with chronic fatigue, weight gain, and recently a diagnosis of osteoporosis. This discovery is a surprise and a relief. It is the beginning of good resolution with treatment. This sabbatical came right on time! I am feeling better than I have in years, assuring me of good energy and a fit body for the good work of the future. My homework is happily increased.

My plan is for more physical work- stacking firewood, reclaiming the field from an invasive brush species, restoring the abandoned vegetable garden, and painting the downstairs and the exterior. As blood pressure and weight continue to improve, I hope to begin a slow return to my desk to edit a collection of my speeches into a book and CDs. I return to my teaching and touch work in 2009 and include a developing calendar. More information and soon a new journal/blog will be at my website.

I am grateful for all your good care. Your generosity has made this possible. I would greatly appreciate your support now to continue to restore myself. I need your help. Thank you for your gifts.

In the Light,

John Calvi May 2008 PO Box 301 Putney 05346 www.johncalvi.com

April Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-09-01T15:07:00.000-07:00

Sabbatical Journal April 2008 John Calvi

There is a gearshift in this sabbatical that I am learning, though very slowly. It’s the question of reverence for the self rather than for service. I learned over many years to kick into a spiritual gear of attention for guidance and cleansing whenever work came to me either in teaching or touching. This became a second skin over time, a dance in response to another’s pain. I am slow to learn and slow to discipline, but over two and a half decades I got to a very comfortable place of spiritual weight lifting before, during, and following witness of another’s pain.

Now comes the task of removing the old stimulus, another’s pain, and keeping those disciplines of reverence for my own well-being. Can one rest the body and wash the mind and keep the strong back, head up, and careful listening for the continuing spiritual feed that comes? What is unplugged and what is not?

In receiving messages to help others, I’ve learned to listen for those parts that I need to learn in my own life. Now the whole task shifts from mutual and vicarious to sole and direct. What is being given that brings me to my brightest shining light? Can I hear this over the noise of the world, the noise in my own thinking, the clutter of life?

In this new paradigm, I think I’ve rated perhaps a C- where I used to consider myself a solid B+ student or better. As the physical body rests and my mind steps out of the traces of constant chronic tasks, as space opens and there is the time to feel what is, I can see I don’t spend enough time in wonder but am still of a task orientation. As the body rests more deeply, the mind needs more washing, the psyche pulled out of old patterns and refreshed. Mostly this used to be done via the disciplines I surrounded work with. I am having to recall and refit these disciplines without the work. And so I am having some learning, some confusion, and some trying to be patient with my own learning style, which appears most often as my brain squinting and mumbling, “huh?”

Amidst this the last of the firewood is brought in, bookkeeping for taxes done, and now I prepare to do the Beethoven Letter before stamp prices go up. Each month brings a lower gear for me to move more slowly. The stillness and quiet necessary for wonder seems to be a vital part in all this unfolding. How not to hear the noisy self? How to be at attention without the tension of a work posture? How to be given more to delight?

I try not to list everything I want to get done. But this keeps creeping in – paint the outside of the house, repair the air vents near the roof and drive out the squirrels, re-establish the vegetable garden, tear down the old wood shed, super clean the tool shed, build a stone wall to warm up the tomato patch, prune the blueberry bushes, edit a book of speeches and self-publish a book and recordings. And how will Marshall and I settle on a color to paint the downstairs of our little home? Goodness only knows!

March Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-08-28T06:05:00.000-07:00

Sabbatical Journal March 2008 John Calvi

I don’t know why I have a small excitement for shopping at thrifts stores. Maybe it’s the long shot of finding that lovely old thing that has somehow survived until now and isn’t too broken or worn for me to enjoy at some ridiculous price. As this sabbatical began I found a small stuffed Bugs Bunny positioned as though flying through the air with a big smile on his face. Bugs has always been a hero for me- very important teaching, spiritual teaching, that Bugs is never afraid, keeps his sense of humor, and enjoys adventure. I have him flying through the air (fishing line from the ceiling) near one of my desks. A reminder that I too am in mid-air, having an adventure, and will eschew fear.

As I cleanse myself from trauma and torture work, I am noticing-

- I choose music that is more upbeat and less sad

- I rest more easily and sleep more deeply

- My thoughts are not stuck assuming the worst possible outcome to any scenario

- My appetite for people is slowly returning

- I can clean out a desk in my office unattached to slews of undone projects

- My prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude are returning

- I spent 3 weeks painting the upstairs, enjoying newly flexed and sore muscles

- I’ve begun to think creatively again on teaching about torture, but not too much

- More than tired, I am happy and grateful to be resting, washing, restoring

I have begun a new adventure, unexpectedly. I’ve been diagnosed with osteoporosis. I am reluctant to discuss this and still somewhat in shock. No sign of illness, except on the bone scan. No pain or symptoms, just some caution on ice etc. I am just learning what this means and how to respond. I hadn’t expected this part of being an elder at 55. I am still finding the handles on this new reality to eschew fear.

I did some hands on work with a friend and felt the rush of Grace and compassion with some longing and warm familiarity. To enter into the dance with Divine energies even for a few minutes washed me with delight and the other person felt better too.

The return of light as spring pushes through, moving the glacier on our roof, is a time of some struggle coming to hope. Our little home in Vermont, embedded in snow and ice, begins to hint at the end of frozenness. The woodpile is low. The biggest change comes soon- we go from ice to tons of mud to green growing things. And it all seems so fast. But first another ice storm tomorrow that we’ll try to see as character building rather than the cause of some slouching and being disheartened. Spring has always come before, hasn’t it?

Of course, the great spiritual discipline that suggests maturity is to behold the most wonderful with the most difficult and to be in awe of all creation. And failing surprise quizzes only means one is more ready later to do better, one hopes.

February/January Sabbatical Journal 2008

2008-08-28T06:01:00.000-07:00

Sabbatical Journal February 2008 – John Calvi

I’ve begun to paint the interior of our house. In so many ways this is a 3 dimensional metaphor of the sabbatical itself. When I think of how wonderful it will be as it’s accomplished, I’m delighted. But when I think of moving, cleaning, repairing, organizing, sorting, learning how to fix, etc- it’s almost too much to begin. Organizing this sabbatical took one year. Preparing the bedroom to paint took one week, the painting itself- 4 hours. One wall falling down is another story altogether.

In my life at this time I need to stop all desk work- all work related to trauma and torture and use my body physically and fill my mind with simple everyday life. And so I’ve come to know the paint guy at the hardware store. I found a huge drop cloth at a second hand store that covers everything and then some. Marshall and I settled on the color of a deep blue with a touch of purple- think of the kind of blue that would most set off a gold frame around a wedding certificate.

In the midst of much non-verbal work, ideas and thoughts come forth like a parade. There are so many people whose health and well-being I want to know about. But I must keep a disciplined firewall and not inquire, return that inquiry and care to myself and choose the salad over the bacon cheeseburger. I wonder about my 2009 work calendar and contact 2 Quaker conference centers to confirm dates.

But in a deeper quiet, I realize that torture is particularly difficult to learn about and work with because it involves such malice more or less absent in other justice efforts. My first thought is that I will have to continue this work as so few people can be with such malice and I’ve already learned so much. And as I am thinking this, I am also thinking why should it be me that wades into such darkness and pain. Torture is the worse thing humans do to one another. The capture and willful hurting of another is the worst. Is it really my work to reveal how deeply woven this is into American policy and ask Quakers and others to oppose this practice? Is this leading continuing, concluded, changing?

When I began work in the crisis of AIDS, I remember learning numerous aspects of medical knowledge as it slowly became known and doing AIDS education. At the same time I was helping many people to die. It seemed overwhelmingly huge. In retrospect and considering the AIDS work I do these days, it is finite- dreadful and horrendous, but still there are limits and borders, less ignorance and meanness.

Can it be that all I have done in my life from Montessori pre-school teacher to songwriter/singer to work with AIDS, rape, refugees, and prisoners is all preparation for a great work the second half of my life or is ego speaking? Am I not strong enough to do more on torture? My leadings in the past have all been fierce, without question. I’ve experienced them as shining Light that informed and prepared my body, mind, and spirit clearly. I’ve been too tired now to feel fierce and so my usual barometer to discern leading is switched off. The sabbatical in some ways is the luxury of time to rest and restore, pose questions that don’t need to be answered right away, and to feel how it is I am changing in my awareness in how I am to be used, remembering that the Light is strong and we who hope to carry Light are fragile. Today I’ll begin painting the balcony with my desks and bookcases on a frigid winter day and wonder some more about what has been, what is, and what will come. Education- necessary, luxurious, and only mildly frightening today. Wonder, gratitude, hard questions, rest, paint.

Sabbatical Journal January 2008 John Calvi

So, what would be a good beginning to a sabbatical, a sabbatical for rest and to change highly productive and very unhealthy habits of over-work? Travel. So, best to marry someone from a warmer place and go home for the holidays and someone in the midst of his second masters (tuition-free) who has to bunch his vacation time together so as not to miss classes and internship teaching. Marshall has been working 70-hour weeks. He grew up riding his bike through the orange groves in the small towns east of Los Angeles. We slip out between 2 large snowstorms for 3 weeks in California.

I had pushed very hard to get my Year End letter out. My last work trip, Oregon and California, was the week before Thanksgiving. We both needed deep rest. Marshall’s folks live in a suburban ranch style home. They are both avid gardeners so as I sit in the backyard to write in my journal I am surrounded by roses, vegetables, bird of paradise, but mostly camellias entering flowering time. In that setting I can finally stop rushing- the to-do list is done, the schedule gone, and email & phone far away. I begin the let down physically, emotionally, mentally.

We have a few days at the beach. Our room allows the sight and sound of the ocean surf to pound our senses. We leave windows and doors open all day and night to be washed by sound and sea air. How wonderful to be humbled by something so much larger than the self. We walked 2 hours each morning on the beach watching seals and dolphins.

For me there is the slow awareness that all the learning I’ve done on torture the past 3 years burdened me. As I had foisted myself into leadership I had postponed much of my emotional response for later. Feelings from my early life arose brought on by the study of torture. I’d been wondering why I was feeling restless, like a 2 year old resisting a nap. In the quiet, I could now remind myself that the time of my own violence was over as it was for the numerous torture survivors I’ve come to know. This brought deeper sleep each day and night.

The large family Christmas was loud and fun and best were the nieces and nephews who have grown so and are reaching for hopes and dreams. Uncle Marshall and Aunt John had brought the right gifts from afar. We verge on coolness. Soon we travel to the desert with Marshall’s folks. We pass Palm Springs and Joshua Tree for a smaller town more removed. Crossing over badlands where nothing grows and coming into the most remote area imaginable, we have a few days viewing a vast landscape where life has a tiny rainfall.

Here there was more deep sleep and two feelings come clear for me. The first is an assumption from grade school- that things generally get worse. This idea has been washed by years of healing work. I thought it had disappeared. But learning of torture as a world-wide system had brought this up again- my own dance between hope and fear. Again I’ve the need to be open to listening to deep stirrings, to embrace whatever aspects are revealed, and to cradle all with some tenderness and the Light of a broad overview showing things do get better with work and time. Again deep sleep. A second feeling came entwined in all this- that of grief for all of humanity, grief that we wound ourselves and each other with such meanness, violence, and poverty. We are in times of great meanness and all people are part of a parade of consuming greed bringing injustice. The payment for this awareness is simply staying awake to make careful choices and not loose track of the real story. I can see why the desert features so prominently in so many religious stories of seeking.

And now we are home. Vermont has just had more snow and more is on the way. The wood box is filled and refilled and the woodstove brings us cozy heat when the greenhouse is dark and cold. I’ve some letters to write but next week I’ll start to paint the bedroom and remove myself from desk, computer, email, & phone entirely. It’s mid-January and I’ve set sail on sabbatical leaving port after a year of organizing for rest and refreshment. All made possible with good help and care from many.