Letter from Jimmy White

Monday, Sept. 20, 2010

Greetings brothers!

It's hard to believe that already one week has passed since our time together. I've had a few challenges this last week health-wise in trying to fight off a sinus infection which seems to be lingering into its 10th day now. Luckily I have some tools that have helped me not stay isolated (my usual m.o.) and suffering alone (also my usual m.o.)

And it got me to thinking... how are the rest of you? Have you "landed" from the retreat experience? Have you had LIFE flood back in? Are you "Rising and Shining?"

Three tools I've used this week that were introduced at the retreat have been extremely helpful, and I just want to encourage you to remember to utilize these (or others from your spiritual toolbox).

1) The Spiritual Buddy - having Patrick M. there as support has been a benefit without comparison. I get cranky and isolative when I don't feel well, and his cheerful demeanor and caring nature helps lift me out of the doldrums in these circumstances. We both went to help John Palmerlee for a few hours in tearing down John's retaining

Connecting In the Social Hall

Men from Manspirit who attend services at the Center for Spiritual Living, Santa Rosa get to hangout together between services and maintain the connections made at our annual retreat and monthly breakfasts.

Palindrome Haiku

Haiku placed backward

Boggles meandering mind -

Ukiah results 

By: Blair O'Neil

Father, Be!

Man of trust, of past, feel of love
how can you mix with this bed of death?
Our touch, our hold, it has an end,
Oh, please, to my palm a miracle lend!

Strong hand, marked by life's creativity
Tear on nose, on cheek, in ear
When gone how can I grasp the know
Of these, your unique fingerprints.

Tear drop, a two-edged shower to feel
Oft at night alone in fear
Or giving birth to that held near
I yearn to share, your tale to hear

Father, what was life that you, at it's end
Find such pleasure in the little things
Of heart and soul, shared eye, shared smile?
Wondering, I ponder with puckered brow

I hold your hand, passing hours
Where do you go? How can I give ease, take pain?
I walk with helpless panic till I see
In helping not I give the most, in your close company

The tumbler's make is but simple stuff
Which banker, thief turn to bread
But it never under force unbinds
Its hidden securities.

So my Father's life unwinds
To deeply moving simple tasks
All life's complex pretense betrayed as feints
by this man's gaze, smile, grip, fears, tears.

-- In Memory of Charles Seward Palmerlee
Written 3/10/90 by John Palmerlee and read to Charles in his hospital room. He kept it by his bed throughout his last month here.

Consumed

i entered life a hungry boy,consuming more than most
denied the comfort of a breast, the bottle was my host
throughout lean and active boyhood days i swam and climbed and ran,
but most of all i ate alot....that was my major plan
i was blessed genetically, i never gained a pound,
that wasn't lean and full of go, i was never soft or round
i was obsessed with getting mine, a second helping if you please
a picky eater... no not me, i even ate my peas
the hunger that i felt inside, it never went away
how long until the next repast was how i marked my day
as years flew by and i grew up, new pleasures came around
i soon discovered alcohol....Nirvana had been found
the knots i didn't know i had in body mind and soul