CHAPTER ONE: The World Used To Be Flat

I’m curious what it would be like if everyone in the United States of America woke up tomorrow morning and there were no political parties. (So, of course, nobody would be affiliated with one.) When this “random thought” first popped into my head a few days ago (I’m sure it wasn’t really random, but it felt like it), I mentioned it to someone I love very much. That person’s initial reaction, which was apparent on their face, was one of discomfort. I’d say extreme discomfort. “But there is so much history with political parties – they have great meaning for people. How could that work?” And, then, “How much leadership experience do you have? How many people have you managed?”

In other words, from someone I love very much – and who loves me – you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.

Let’s make clear here I’m not saying I think eliminating political parties in the United States is a good idea or the way we should go right now. I am curious about the idea of it, though. Curiosity is one of my favorite words. Curiosity equals an open mind, eager to learn new information and perspectives. A closed mind equates to thinking you already know everything there is to know, you’re an expert; the fork’s been put in already and it’s done.

What a freakin’ boring way to live. Already knowing everything.

I’ve observed, also, that political parties can make us lazy. (Lazy, not crazy, but that might happen, too. Ha, ha...?) I’m referring to the USA here; it’s the only country I’ve been a citizen of in this lifetime. When in doubt, just vote a straight party line...right?

I’ve never affiliated with a political party, and that was an intentional choice. Somehow, even at the age of 18 when I voted for Ronald Reagan (Republican) for President and Tom Daschle (Democrat) for the Senate in my home state of South Dakota, I knew I didn’t want to have a political label. I was raised in a conservative Republican family. Most of my friends are Democrats. The more time that passes, the more left I lean. Yet, looking back, I’m proud of my 18-year-old self.

Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, and we think of him as the President who personally opposed slavery and managed to lead a country into not having slavery anymore. Since then, US political parties have drastically changed.

We have a broken and bleeding political system now, seemingly becoming more and more filled with hatred with each passing day. Wise decisions can’t be made coming from a broken, hate-filled system.

No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.

-Albert Einstein.

I don’t want a religious label either. I was raised Christian, and I loved my Presbyterian church in Raymond, South Dakota. Population 58. (It was 117 when I was growing up.) I was very active in my church, teaching Sunday School and singing and playing piano in services. I felt most close to God in nature, riding horseback and being with the cats and our dog, Lucy. But I also felt close to God in that church. The stained-glass windows are some of the most beautiful I’ve seen anywhere – an artistic triumph. I don’t know what will happen with those windows now that the church is defunct.

Since Raymond was such a small town, we went for stretches without a regular minister. I’m sure the pay wasn’t great and the minister had to handle two different churches, the other a Congregational Church in Clark, where I graduated from high school.

The day a minister I will call Lawrence came to town...everything changed.

Lawrence was vibrant, bright, fully alive, and...handsome. Oh, he was cute. As was his wife (not as cute as him, in my mind) and three young daughters. He got us new, updated hymnals and new red carpet in the sanctuary. RED! It was gorgeous. He started a youth group and confirmation classes. The church came alive under his leadership. (Although I do remember some of the old ladies wagging their eyebrows when one Easter Sunday Lawrence came walking down the aisle dressed as John the Baptist, singing Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord. I loved it! Although, admittedly, it was weird even to me in that small town church.)

I admired and respected Lawrence so much...probably even had a little bit of a crush on him. Until one Sunday when I was home from college over the weekend. This would have been in the early to mid 1980’s. The Presbyterian church at the time was considering allowing gays to be married in the church and to join the ministry.  

Lawrence stood behind the pulpit and publicly voiced his opposition.

My heart sank. Right through to the bottom of my shoe soles and straight into hell. Right there in church.

My minister didn’t understand the meaning of unconditional love.

That’s how I interpreted his statement at the time.  

To me, that is hell. The separation from Divine mind and unconditional love.

I don’t remember ever feeling more disillusioned. I mean, I might have expected that of my parents and grandparents because of the time and place in which they were raised. I didn’t expect it from my minister.

I never told Lawrence how I felt. It wouldn’t have occurred to me at that age to question an authority figure. I may have misunderstood somehow. Even if I didn’t, he may feel differently now.

I will be quoting Neale Donald Walsch’s book THE NEW REVELATIONS from time to time, because those pages include some of the most clear and succinct messages I know of to help undo the underlying beliefs that cause people to think and act in the insane ways that they do. That we do, that I do. Also, A COURSE IN MIRACLES, which – while off the top is less easy to understand – brings the words of Jesus Christ and his message to the world now in a clear manner. To me, it’s far clearer than the Bible with all the different interpretations and changes by white men over the years. I may not delve into Buddhist or Native American spirituality as much, or other spiritual traditions I know less about. Please simply know, as you continue reading, that I recognize all of humanity is one entity, regardless of the different, individual spiritual or cultural paths of an individual wave in the ocean of humanity. (I first wrote humanery – maybe not an accident; it’s rather humorous.)

I loved to sing as a young girl. Sing, walk in nature, play with animals, ride bike and horses. Read books and learn new words. I was filled with joy, love of nature, and natural self-esteem. I held myself in high regard.

Until I didn’t.

Someone must have told me at some point that I should focus more on playing piano than singing, that it would be more “useful” for me down the road. Grandma Handke also loved singing in church, but no one else in my family really did. Mom had a good voice, but she didn’t seem interested in using it often.

I don’t remember where the initial thought came from that I should focus more on playing piano...or clarinet in concert band, bells in marching band, and try and improvise on the electric keyboard in jazz band when I had no idea how to do that. Somewhere along the way, despite singing in multiple choruses and small groups, I began to feel that I wasn’t a good enough singer. Or that singing wasn’t a worthy pursuit, somehow. The mere thought of being assigned a solo filled me with anxiety.

I didn’t meet Linda Brice, founder of  the Transformational Voice® system and training institute, until I was in my 40’s. Then a whole new world opened up to me. I learned how the body creates sound and what breath and resonance truly mean, vocally. Where the four different registers fall along my vocal tract. And so much more. I eventually became a certified Transformational Voice® teacher, quit my well-paying day job, and started teaching voice and piano.

Two of the biggest problems that had plagued me as a high school singer were my pitch tending towards the flat side and a shaky middle voice when going back and forth between chest and head voice. Once I understood what was happening within my body when these issues happened, I was able to correct them. The mental aspect, and getting my confidence back as a singer, took longer. A lot longer.

The mental aspect. Confidence. That’s a tricky one. We tend to think of people we perceive as power-hungry, greedy and abusive as having extreme confidence and hubris.

It occurs to me the exact opposite is true. People who think they have to trample over others to get what they want must live a scared, lonely and haunted existence. I can’t imagine waking up the morning thinking that way. Feeling that way. It must be awful.

Have you seen Tom Shadyac’s documentary, I AM? Shadyac “discovered” actor Jim Carrey and made several big budget movies with him. At that point, Shadyac’s films had grossed more than $2 billion, he was worth close to $50 million, and had purchased a 17,000-square-foot mansion.

He said he looked around that newly decorated, huge, gorgeous home – and realized it meant nothing to him. He had expected to feel differently. More happy. But he didn’t. Shadyac made a radical lifestyle change, gave away most of his money, and found a simpler way of being that aligned with his soul.

It’s interesting how hoarding is considered a “bad” thing in our society, except when it comes to money. Hoarding money can be considered “good”, even if you have to manipulate and coerce people to have more. And more, and more and more and more. That’s a head-scratcher. It’s like there’s a lack of money in the world, only so much to go around, and some people think they have to fight others to have their share. Or more than their share.

That’s one thing I’ve never noticed in the world...a money shortage. I remember gasoline shortages. The ocelot population is down to less than 100 in North America. Orchids are among the most endangered species in the Amazon rain forest. Toilet paper during COVID, anyone?

But I’ve never heard a public service announcement that the world is running out of money.

There’s plenty of money to go around.

I’ve been everywhere from not being able to pay to my bills to having quite a bit more money than I need. I far prefer the latter. Lack of money, in this culture, equals stress and people acting under stress can make very bad decisions. Money is great. Money is a wonderful tool. I love money and what it does for me. In fact, for many people, it’s important to realize your financial potential – to not put a mental limit on what you can earn or think you deserve. Or to feel that being financially successful requires too much work, or is at odds with being a spiritual person. What a load of horse shit. It’s important to feel worthy of having lots of money. We all are worthy.

Yet in the end it’s just money, an energy exchange. It’s not the key to the mystery of life. And having three times more than you need isn’t going to change how you feel about yourself.

In our western culture, we are trained to join a political party, to have a religion, and to make as much money as we possibly can. Many of us were taught that money equals success.

What if none of this was true in the first place? What if we don’t need a political party, or a religion, and we simply know that there is plenty of abundance to go around and we’ll always have enough?

Settle into that idea for a bit.

Does it feel good?

Scary?

A little of both?

For many years, after first voting at the age of 18, I was apolitical. The world felt like a relatively safe place to me and I trusted in the leaders other people elected. When that started to change, I started voting again. I took it all very seriously. Eventually, when in doubt, I started voting a straight party line without doing much research. Who has the time, right? I know I’m not alone in this.

Spiritually, I’ve kept my mind open to traditions from all over the world and am always eager to learn more and to feel and understand what resonates with me.

Now, I’m remembering a particular moment during my  health crisis, in the ER. There I was, waiting for approval to get a CT scan that would determine whether or not I had diverticulitis. Deep in my heart, I already knew I did. But it would have taken two or three months to get a CT scan through my regular insurance and medical avenues.

I was laying on a transport bed in the hallway as they’d run out of regular rooms. I heard a word in my mind, “Surrender.” Not only the word, but a great Cheap Trick song a former roommate, Billie Jo, used to play on her stereo when we rented an apartment together in Phoenix. LIVE AT BUDOKAN.  

Surrender.

That was my start. The first step I had to take in that moment of my health journey.

I had to surrender.

I had to let go. To part ways with everything I knew to be true. My human ego was not in control of my life. Some thing or someone else was. And it wasn’t the doctors. Or my husband. Or even our cat.

It was God.

I had to surrender to God.

By surrender, I don’t mean “giving up”, as in waving a white flag to notify your enemy that they’ve beaten you and you surrender to their armed forces.

By surrender, I mean realizing that you are not in control and you need to part ways with the kind of thinking and beliefs that formatted your life before the moment of surrender.

That was a turning point, the moment when my healing began in the midst of my health crisis, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

We can do the same thing, collectively, as a human species in the midst of this spiritual crisis.

We can surrender. And not to the “enemy.” We can surrender our old beliefs, outdated systems and inhumane behaviors that led us to this crisis in the first place.

By “we”, I don’t mean all the people you think are doing awful things in this world.

I mean you. (And me, of course. I’m writing this; I have to, ha ha.)

Yes, you. You reading this. You basically good, decent human being who has never set out to intentionally hurt anyone in your life. And those times when you have lost your temper, or acted in anger, you regretted it.

Yes, it’s you I’m talking to. Not all the awful, despicable people of the world, the terrorists and corrupt politicians. You. It’s you who is our hope. You and me.

Yes, you are our hope.

Around 30% of Americans have diverticulosis (pockets in the intestinal lining) and remain asymptomatic. Noone knows for sure why some of us end up getting as sick with diverticulitis (the pockets have become inflamed and filled with infection) as I did, but the general consensus is Americans overall have crappy diets – so much of our food is processed and pre-packaged before we even get to it. A colleague recently spent several weeks in Thailand and said it took her body two weeks just to detox from the American diet. Not many of we Americans have the space, time or energy for a massive garden and assortment of fruit trees, and most of us live on very separate properties firmly divided into “this is mine” and “that is yours.”

So, there’s that. But there’s also this massive culture of microbes that live in our guts, that we aren’t taught about in school, coming from what appears to be an extremely limited general knowledge about how these microbes work to digest what we eat in the first place. This wasn’t a problem when we were hunters/gatherers, but as we’ve added more and more unnatural (not from natural Earth) products into what we ingest, it’s become one.

Let’s take just the word “probiotic”, for example. You’ve probably been hearing a lot about probiotics in regards to supplements that you should buy for gut health, right? Just in the last several years?

But you probably haven’t heard about what probiotics need to survive, the kinds of prebiotics they survive on, or what “good” gut bacterial strains you want to encourage in your system or the “bad” ones you don’t.

None of my medical doctors had any of this information to share with me.

So, that information, which is actually lack of knowledge, needs to be surrendered. The lack of understanding and knowledge about how microbes truly work is not helping us to be healthy.

It’s the same with this spiritual crisis we’re living through right now, which on the surface appears to be political.

We have to first surrender our belief that our political system works. It doesn’t, and it hasn’t in a long time. Something different needs to be put in it’s place. I get the sense pretty much everybody is realizing that these days. (NOT regarding Democracy or the Constitution.)

Yet it goes so much deeper than that. We have to surrender everything else we currently believe is true about the way our country operates.

And how we can best contribute to the higher vision and version.

What we need is more empathy—a culture of empathy—but that takes being uncomfortable, and it’s what most people are afraid of today. –James F. Twyman, I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE, I LOVE YOU

What can we do about all this? This idea of our being “better” than the next person is pretty deeply ingrained. I don’t know how we can get rid of it.

Actually, the illusion of superiority is an easy one from which to step aside. A simple look at your behaviors when you think you are superior will reveal you to be acting inferiorly. The bigger you think you are, the smaller you become. The better you think you are, the worse you act. The evidence of your own eyes will lead you to this truth. -Neale Donald Walsch, THE NEW REVELATIONS