After my encounter with the angel Christopher last week, I had another opportunity to interact with the saintly this weekend past. I got to serve dinner at the Sister Mary Rose house in Florence KY. From 4 until 6 pm on Saturdays, hot meals (with seconds and thirds) are offered to anyone who needs one. I don’t know what I was expecting. I was trying not to expect anything per se, but what I found nearly broke my heart again. Can you imagine your grandmother having to eat in a mission, because it helps stretch her budget, and, it gives her an opportunity to enjoy a conversation? Your grandmother. Can you imagine young working families who come here to make sure their kids are getting enough to eat, because jobs are scarce and money is tight, and at least this one night, their kids will get some hot soup  and cold milk? These were not homeless people. They are about a half a step up. They have a place to sleep, but often times have to choose between eating and medicine. Between eating and utilities. Where have I been?
In the next couple of weeks I will be investigating this area to see what I can do to get engaged and help. I’d say make a difference, but frankly I think this problem is larger than any of us can possibly imagine. We are looking at the tippy toppest point of the iceberg. How does this happen in a country like ours. Did we fail as citizens, or, did we fail because we listened when our government leaders said, “hey, we got this”. What really irritates me about myself, is that it took this long to even notice. It’s not like the signs aren’t all around us. And you know, people need help all year round, not just at Christmas. Today I want to encourage us all to think about a couple of things. Where can we take used coats, and good used blankets to help those who truly need them? Where is the nearest soup kitchen where we can get involved to be blessed by the angels who eat at these places? I’ll be working to compile a list of opportunities around the Northern Kentucky area, and I hope those of you reading at a distance can find some place close to you to pitch in. I have been blind for so long to the suffering all around me. May God forgive me.

Thanks for listening.

My daughter sings with a choir that practices at the University of Cincinnati on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We carpool with another family and Thursday is our day to take the kids. Nancy is off at a retreat for women and so taxi duty fell to old dad. Because it’s an hour and one-half practice, I always go to a Bruegger’s Bagel close by to enjoy a cup of hot coffee and work the crosswords. Last night as I was about to go in, an angel stepped out of the shadows. He looked like us, but I knew that something was different about this guy. He was humble. I had the sense that he was not particularly happy about having to speak to me. When he did speak, he said, “can you possibly spare a dollar to help me out”? He lacked the confidence of other people who ask for help, people I am convinced make a  living being”homeless”. He seemed a little embarrassed. I consider myself a pretty keen observer of the human condition, and I was convinced he was sincere. I said, “sure, let me just pop in here and get some change, and I’ll be happy to help you out.”. He kind of followed me in, and when we were inside he said, “if it isn’t too much trouble, could you spare something to eat, I’m really hungry”. I said of course. I ordered him a panini, a cup of coffee, and got myself a cup. I was curious to see what would happen once he had the sandwich and coffee. Would he just walk off, would he say thanks, what would he do? When I handed him the bag, he followed me to where I was heading and sat down with me. Here’s something. He ate like he’d been in public before. He fixed his coffee like I did and engaged me in conversation while he ate his sandwich and drank his coffee. As we talked I found out that his name was Chris. He’d been homeless for about six months and was sleeping on a porch. He was grateful because at least he didn’t have to worry about getting wet if it rained at night. He was wearing three hoodies and some insulated sweat pants. He had a ragged old pair of gloves and I knew he was fairly new at this, because he did not have a collection of all his personal goods in a bag or cart. As I listened to what he had to say, the central theme that kept coming up was what it was like to be invisible. He kept saying, “so many people who have some money, just can’t see people like me, who have nothing”. He excluded me, of course. We talked about rock and roll, growing up in the military, and what it was like to sleep outside in 40 degree weather. He asked me if I happened to have a blanket in the car I could do without. As it turns out, I did and was happy to give it to him. I also threw in a jacket that was a windproof shell, not so good for warmth, but superior for keeping the wind off.
I only tell you all that to say this. When I was walking in Spain, I read the book in the Bible written by the apostle James every night. I wanted to have an idea of what this guy was like whose cathedral I was walking to. One of the things that really stood out every night was this snippet: “If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day and  one of you says to them ‘Go in peace, be warm, and eat well but you do not give them the necessitates of the body, what good is it'”? This came up and sat right across the table from me. The time came to go. We shook hands and went our separate ways. Later last night when I climbed in my queen sized bed with a comforter on it, I laid in the dark and wondered what it would be like to sleep on a porch in weather that is just above freezing. Are you kidding me? I can’t imagine that. That has never been a part of my reality. I realized how blessed I truly have been for my entire life. Did I work hard to make sure I wouldn’t be that guy? Yes. But we all know that in this day and age many of us are only one catastrophic event away from being in a world of financial manure.
Winter is coming. While we enjoy our holidays, would it be possible for us to find some coats in great shape, make sure they’re clean, and get them to drop in centers. Can we buy some affordable blankets and get them there also. How many junk toys do we buy our kids every year for Christmas? Maybe this year, with our kid’s permission, we could take the money we use to buy gifts that have virtually no value other than being a gift, and use that to help some of these angels who are walking among us. If you know your sacred writing, you will recall that we are cautioned to be good to strangers, for many have entertained angels unawares.
In case you’re curious, I insist on calling this man an angel, not because of anything he possessed or “magic” he did, but because he reminded me of how blessed I am, and how important it is to be a blessing to others. As we were talking he actually said to me, “I wake up every day glad to be alive. I thank God”. Sounded very familiar to me. I call him an angel, because after the last couple of weeks, I am convinced that ‘He who cannot be known’, sent him to bless me, and remind me that while I am alive, I am expected to be helpful.

Keep your eyes open. they are all around.

Thanks for listening.

It’s Wednesday and a perfectly dreary afternoon here in Cincinnati. You know, the kind of day where the sky looks like a blue screen minus the color. A light drizzly rain is falling and all these days are really good for is taking a nap, or curling up in front of a picture window with a good book. I’ve just finished three of the toughest weeks I’ve had on chemo since I started. I wasn’t going to whine about it here, but a lot of people have said to me, “keep writing even if it isn’t about anything particularly pleasant” … here goes.
The last couple of days as the effects of the last three weeks wear off (mouth sores, sore throat, loss of appetite, severe tiredness, and bone and muscle fatigue) I began to wonder how sincere I am when I start my days off with my grateful heart mantra/chant. Am I doing it because it’s what I do, have I sold myself on the idea of doing it, or am I full of cow manoob, as Amanda’s mother used to say. I think the answer in this case is a little of all three. I do want to be sincere, but it’s hard to get pumped up when every cell in your body is being poisoned (for my own good of course). When I asked Dr. W if there was something I could do to minimize side effects, he said, “you mean other than not pumping you full of poison”? Guess not.
I am committed to and will continue to fight this battle until I drink the bitter dregs (remember the Micky’s big mouths in high school), but I have to say at one point last week, I fully understood why someone would decide, screw this, I’d rather die. I get it. That started another whole daisy chain of thoughts that wondered if I would feel this way if I didn’t have confidence about my dying process. I realized at the end of the day, that while I have no answers on what is going to happen the moment after i close my eyes for the last time, I do have a peace about it. I expect to come face to face with that which is beyond our understanding, which we are incapable of knowing while covered in clay. What happens after that has been envisioned by every group of people throughout time on this planet, but we still just don’t know. So in my moroseness let me just say that while wrestling with these things is never fun, it is necessary to at least have an idea of what you think is going to happen and how you see life unfolding at the end of your path. It is highly likely and possible that someone reading these posts will “expire” before this cancer gets me. Have you decided to what it is that you open your heart in gratitude in the morning. Who or what is it that you rest in when times are tough. Name it, Look at it. Pull it into your heart. Own it. Live it.

Thanks for listening

On Thursdays, I address envelopes at the hospice center. These envelopes are going to people who have recently lost someone. Dr. Ellis, the Director of Grief services, likes to have the envelopes hand addressed, because it gives a more personal feel. Today, instead of the regular “address and stuff”, I had a little project that had to go immediately. It consisted of a letter and a sheet of paper that had to be tri-folded by hand before being put in the envelope. NBD.
For perspective on what I’m about to say, you need to know that I spent 38 years in the printing business, a great deal of it with companies doing top shelf printing, requiring an effort that gets as close to perfection as humanly possible. That said, as I’m folding these flyers and inserting them into the envelopes, I can’t help but notice that they aren’t all lining up the way they’re “supposed to”. After a couple of these, I caught myself getting irritated. Not because I was dong something wrong, but because I realized the image wasn’t imposed on the paper just right and that was why it wouldn’t fold correctly, and that’s why it looks horrible (to me), and I’ll bet nobody will pay any attention to what this flyer says, because the fold is so terrible. Any of that feeling vaguely familiar?
The fact is, 38 years ago, I was trained how to see printing the way it is, not the way it appears. That skill let’s a good printer deliver a quality product. The customer says, “Ooohh, Ahhhh” not really knowing why they think it’s “so beautiful”. It’s not a skill you can be without if you’re in the printing field, or I imagine many others. The thing is, I’m not in the printing field anymore. So I had to chuckle when I caught myself giving myself the third degree over something that at the end of the day, not one person is going to notice. No one. Ever. I’m not saying there’s not a time or a place, it’s just not all the time, everywhere. Ever. As I sat laughing at myself yet again, I started to wonder how much time I’ve wasted in my life trying to get something perfect that’s never going to be perfect? How many projects did I make someone else crazy over, because of my “idea” of what was acceptable? How many relationships have I soured because he, she, or they didn’t behave, say, or do what I thought they should? Do I try too hard sometimes? What do I do?
I don’t know what your answer is, but my answer is to get up everyday and remember what I am; dust. Once I get my head around my true nature, then I can properly give thanks for all the blessings in my life, and look at how I can make someone else’s day a little brighter.

Chapter 33 of the Tao says:

Knowing others is intelligence.
Knowing yourself is true wisdom.

Mastering others is strength,
Mastering yourself is true power.

I know that “the heart is deceitful above all things, who can know it”… but somewhere between not trying, and trying too hard, is a place where we can sit quietly, gather our breath and move the heart to a little more openness and compassion.

Thanks for listening

I just finished five days with the Bobjuan. He flew in from visiting family in Virginia last Friday, and we got to spend some quality time together. I was enjoying his company and he was digging all the trees and grass (he lives in Phoenix). On Saturday morning he and I, along with our friend TD, drove to the Abbey of Gethsemani which is in Bardstown KY. We spent about three hours walking on the trails taking in the sunshine and perfect day. After we got done, we tried to catch one of the seven services in the chapel but just missed it. We did sit in the chapel for about twenty minutes just absorbing the silence. It’s always  amazing to me how powerful silence can be, especially when it’s concentrated in a space that is set aside specifically for it. People have very different reactions to that type of quiet. It’s not uncommon if you’re the type of person who is really busy all the time, to go to sleep when you sit still in a silent space. And that’s OK. The heart has a tendency to take over in those spaces and do what you need, even if you don’t realize what it is.
One of the things that really blew me away was when I heard on a video that they keep on a constant loop, that the monks work half a day and they get to spend the afternoon pursuing individually, those things which they feel draw them closer to God. Think about that. This monastery is about 2,500 acres, has dairy cattle, fields under cultivation, and a complete cheese and candy making operation going on. If I heard this tape correctly, they manage all that working from about 8:00 to noon. I’m not even going to think about or suggest this as a course of action to be followed, but I do find it interesting that it can be done. Of course, their real work is not making cheese, or fudge, or dairy farming, or agriculture. Their real work is praying and singing the Psalms. They gather seven times a day in the chapel to sing the Psalms, 365 days a year, and have been doing so since 1848.  Whenever I hear this I can’t help but think about other religions that pray five times a day. Pikers. JK.
I realize that to many people withdrawing from the world, dedicating your life to prayer and singing the Psalms probably makes no sense. As someone who has sat in silence for a while, I can tell you this is not an easy life. They aren’t on vacation. They are very aware of what they give up in order to pursue this lifestyle. To many it may seem like a wasted life, but giving up one’s personal life in order to sit quietly in meditation and contemplation for the benefit of all others is a very sacred calling. I can’t prove it, but I suspect that it’s men and women all over the world who engage in these practices that keep us from absolutely blowing the planet to pieces.
If you ever need or want to get away for a couple of days to be silent for whatever reason, look around if you’re not in the Cincinnati area and find a monastery nearby. Most of them welcome visitors and you’ll be renewed and refreshed by any time you spend with them. If this is not possible, perhaps you could find some time every day (ten minutes) where you sit at the kitchen table, or your cozy chair, with no one around. The idea is to sit there and whatever thoughts come, let them come without chasing after them. Hear the birds outside, the stirrings in the house, the traffic, whatever is happening, again without attaching to it. Well, what is that going to do for me, and how does it work? I don’t know how it works, but it does. I don’t know what it’s going to do for you, but I promise you, something good will happen if you do it and give it time.

Thanks for listening

Tuesday morning. An especially good day because I get to go to Hospice and help. A good day because after Hospice I will go and get a treatment. Hospice went as expected, although I got to spend some time with patients that I don’t always get. I like when I can just sit and visit with someone for a minute. No heavy counseling, no advice, just visit like regular folks.
After I got done with hospice I had about forty-five minutes to kill before I had to be at the clinic, so I went to a nearby pizzeria because they sell by the slice. I got there, ordered a slice and a Sprite, and sat there enjoying what is to me, a perfect fall day. About 70 degrees, clear sky, and low humidity. I enjoyed my slice and about half way through, the guy behind the counter comes over and says, “that was a small slice, I’ve got another one in the oven for you”. Yes. As I’m enjoying the second slice, I happen to look up and to the left, into a wall sized mirror that takes one whole wall in the place. I saw an aging, balding gentleman chewing. I thought, “is that me”? Turns out it was. I gave myself a small wave, and thought “he’s turning into a pretty decent guy”.
Have you ever looked in the mirror and felt as if you were looking at a stranger? Like you were detached and separate from the reflection looking back at you. I hope so, because it happens to me all the time. If I’m the only one, I may have to seek counseling … I like when it happens because it gives me a moment to see myself without  the preconceived baggage that we carry, about who we are. Sometimes it feels like I’m looking at a complete stranger. Other times I’m simply surprised that I’m not still eighteen with a full head of hair, and other times, it’s just me.
How are you getting along with the man/woman in the mirror? Do you like the reflection of the person looking back at you? Not the actual reflection, but who that reflection represents. Maybe the next time you check and see that person, you can just give them a wave and a smile, because we can’t be good for anyone else, if we’re not in a good relationship with me.

Thanks for listening

I spent part of Saturday afternoon with a friend of mine. He’s a guy who wears many hats. He’s a regional manager for a national book store chain, a massage therapist, an athletic trainer, and the resident teacher at the zen center I attend. He handed out a sheet of paper that was about changing deeply held beliefs. As I read over this I started to get excited because although it was intended to challenge a persons thinking about fitness and our reluctance to stay with a fitness program, I realized immediately that it had infinite possibilities.
Here’s what it said in as close to a nutshell as I can manage. We all have deeply held beliefs that we may have had since we were young that guide and manipulate at a very deep level our behaviors and attitudes. This is called the “Old False Agreement”. It’s defined as: … usually subconscious but can be brought to consciousness with introspection and inquiry; powerfully drives behavior when it remains below consciousness; often starts with “I can’t,” “I need,” “I must”; limits happiness, success, fulfillment, energy and health; often agreed to in childhood when we are less powerful and are concerned with survival; often adopted passively from the family, clan and culture; sometimes agreed to in response to pain, difficulty, threat and trauma; will be believed at some level unless consciously replaced by a new, truer agreement.
“New Truer Agreement”: made fully consciously, fully intentionally, more in line with reality and natural law, so although all agreements are beliefs, it is more true than the previous false agreement; because it is closer to reality, it is more powerful than it’s related false agreement; through the conscious process of introspection and reframing can replace the old false agreement in the subconscious; expands happiness, success, fulfillment, energy and health.
An example of an Old False Agreement, would be the attitude that many of us carry so automatically that we don’t think about it that says, “I cannot fail or make mistakes at work. Whatever I am doing has to be done right, at all times.” In writing it looks a bit silly doesn’t it, but I lived like that, and I  know many people who approach their everyday life, just like that. The New Truer Agreement sounds like this, “I can and do make mistakes, which are natural in the process of trying new things, growing my abilities and taking risks. Mistakes are great vehicles for learning, and many of my successes and strengths have grown from mistakes I have made. When I acknowledge my mistakes and what I have learned, I have the opportunity for more feedback, which further supports my success.”
This is not permission to go out and throwing common sense to the wind, make mistakes willy nilly. What it does do is create a mindset that when we do make a mistake, we see it for what it is, and not the end of our career, the sovereignty of the United States, or the collapse of the free market system.
This morning, my friend looks at me and says, “we need to sit down and explore your OFA’s about your disease and see if there are any NTA’s we can come up with.”
Uh oh.

I want to start off by recognizing the extraordinary efforts of all the people who came out to PeeWee’s restaurant last weekend and walked for the benefit of St. Elizabeth Hospice Center. FYI, approximately $3,100.00 was raised over the weekend. I am at the same time, stunned, impressed, and so so grateful.
Back on treatments since getting home. This past Tuesday was the second in the series of three. I have three weeks on, and then get a week off. They seem to get a little tougher every week, until the off week, but what are you gonna do? Yesterday I was having one of those days that aren’t “terrible”, but aren’t high energy either. I was poking around inside, when I decided to go out to the garage and get my chair out. I have an old green chair, that I will sit either right inside the garage or just outside the garage door depending on the weather. One of the side effects of this treatment is a sensitivity to cold, so I had that bad boy right in the sun. As I sat there, feeling a bit like a bag of broken glass, the school bus pulled up and some elementary school kids got out. They headed into the cul-de-sac to their house. They were out of sight but I could hear them laughing, screaming, and carrying on. Overhead some geese were doing a flyby complete with honking, and there were the various neighborhood noises. As I sat listening to all of this without focusing on any one particular thing, I began to realize that the more I focused outside of myself, the less I was aware of how “poopy” I felt. Then I thought back to earlier in the day (Thursday) and thought “you know, I didn’t feel bad while I was at hospice”. Made me realize/remember two things I already knew. One, whenever you feel weighed down by the circumstances of your life, raise your head up and look around. Find someone else to help, because there is always someone worse off than you. Two, make sure you have an old beat up chair you can use to sit in the garage and watch the rain and lightning storms.
A lot of people have encouraged me to keep writing. I am all for it, but not sure that people actually want to hear about an ordinary life fighting to remain. A friend of mine said recently, “some people write books to make money, and some people write a book because it needs to be written”. He and I are in the process of writing a book that needs to be written. Yes, I am afraid. Yes, I took it out and mailed it to the rocks in Finisterre. Comments, questions, and scathing remarks can be sent to me at ericmiller723@gmail.com. To the best of my ability, I will answer anyone who writes. Here is a photo from the morning of PeeWee’s walk. Our sunrises are just as pretty as anybody else’s.
Thanks for listening.

Yesterday morning I was speaking with a friend of mine, and he says to me, “you know, one of the things I really like about you is that you just seem to say yes to life. I wish I could be more like that”. The statement itself didn’t surprise me, but what did, was that I remember a time shortly after I had started my first round of chemo, when I had a conversation with myself (and didn’t mention it to anyone), and decided I was no longer going to exclude good things from my life. Now to be sure, I have a little more time than the average bear, but I think most of us have enough space if it’s important enough to embrace this idea.
I’ve really been struck by the lesson on the rocks of Finisterre. I’ve continued to think about it, and I am convinced that at least in my life, I spend a great deal of time in fear. Now I’m not saying there isn’t a place for fear. There is. If you stomp up on a big old mama bear with cubs in the woods, and she stands up, fear and the following adrenaline charged running away are an acceptable response. No doubt. But what about the subtle ways fear enters our consciousness. We are afraid for our children’s future, so we micromanage their lives to the point where we may actually become the cause of their giving up and embracing a dark path. We are afraid of the quality of our relationship with our spouses, so we try too hard to insert ourselves into their business, having to approve or deny every action they want to take, rather than say, “I trust your judgement. What can I do to help”. We are afraid of losing a job, so we work too much and take time that is meant for our families and give it to masters who don’t even know what we’re doing. Fear.
I like sacred texts that are the oldest that can be found, because for me, they seem to hit the nail right on the head. Here is a passage from one of the earliest Christian texts.
“Fear is not in charity (love): but perfect charity (love)  casts out fear, because fear has pain. And he that fears, is not perfected in charity (love)”. I submit again, that we get to perfect love, one day at a time, through awareness.

Below is the schedule for the first annual walk for Hospice in my name. The owner of PeeWee’s restaurant, Tim PeeWee Reese has put together these starting times. I will be walking the first leg and the last, and will be at the restaurant as much as possible Saturday to wish everyone well. The schedule below is only so you can see the starting times. You don’t need to sign up, just show up when you want to walk. We’re asking for a $10 gift per person walking. All the proceeds will be donated to St. Elizabeth Hospice.
Thanks PeeWee. And thank you for supporting this cause. BTW, if you have a walker, and you’re not going to walk, there’s plenty of good food inside.

Well, the dreaded jet lag hasn’t happened yet. I got home around midnight, and was up at 7am, ready to go for a walk. Which I did around 9:00. I walked to the local Panera, had a power sandwich and an espresso and walked home. I didn’t want to send my body into espresso withdrawl the first day back. I’m going to have to ease into less “go juice” and more cafe Americano. After sitting in airplanes and airports most of yesterday, it was nice to stretch the legs and breathe some fresh air.
I spent a great deal of my time in the airports and while walking today, trying to get the “Almighty lesson” from this pilgrimage to gel into a concrete idea. What finally emerged was how the walk, starting in Astorga, and ending at Finisterre corresponded perfectly to not only my life, but our lives. My life, and yours. The first couple of days were very difficult, but hanging in there and not quitting, eventually I got my trail legs and the walking became easier. Every day had a sameness to it, even though they were all quite different from each other. I woke up, packed my bag, ate breakfast, went to work if you will (walked) enjoyed a little leisure time in the evening, lights out. Wake and repeat. Sounds like our ordinary non-pilgrimage lives doesn’t it. Here’s the interesting thing about my journey. I was not particularly thrilled about going to Finisterre, but, that was the place where it all came together for me. When I got to the hotel, I seriously considered calling a taxi and riding out to the end. Then I decided that wouldn’t be “cricket”, so I suited up and hauled my butt to the lighthouse. Glad I did. The pace of traveling on foot changes the whole perspective of arrival. You see it coming long before you actually arrive. You have time to prepare yourself for arrival.
Once I got there, and out on the rocks and was able to sit there quietly for a while, I began to see a connection. Why pilgrimage is not just a reflection of ordinary life. How it helps you put all the puzzle pieces into place. I suspect that it’s different for everybody. I can only share what I thought, felt, and experienced. Maybe there’s some universality, maybe not.
What finally sank in for me today, was how the pilgrimage on El Camino de Santiago, reflected my entire life. When I was young, I struggled mightily to establish myself in a trade. I knew that I had to work hard if I wanted to have any of the things that constitute “the good life”. A house, car, savings, etc. But after a while the hard work started to pay off, and I got my trail legs for walking through life. I learned how to “pull” the uphills and not go “runaway” on the downhills. I could see the end of the road coming. Then, life took an interesting twist, and instead of arriving at the cathedral with a couple of more days walking to get to the end, I was thrust suddenly to the end. I stood on the rocks looking out over the Atlantic and understood how people could think this was the end of the world. There is nothing but blue water for as far as the eye can see. It has a quality of the eternal in that you almost can’t conceive of how much water you’re really looking at. If I could have gotten 2,000 feet higher, all I would have seen was water. No end in sight. Figuratively I’m somewhere on “the Road”. I don’t know where I am, or how far I have to go to get to “Earth’s end”, but I know it’s coming. The difference is when I actually arrive, the water won’t be a stopping point, but a new beginning.
Quite a few people have asked me to keep writing, which I am happy to do as long as I have something to say. I have been transparent about my personal journey since it began, and have no problem continuing to be so. My personal goal, however, is to hang around for a little while longer, and I can’t imagine anyone really being interested in my ordinary days. That said, I will be posting for a little while longer as I am still working with the St. Elizabeth Marketing Group to promote the Hospice Center in Edgewood. I’m sitting with Pee Wee tomorrow evening to make sure I understand the walk this weekend, and will post the details for that Thursday. If there is anything anyone would like to know about my medical condition or anything relating to it, you can write me at walkwithe@gmail.com, and I will be happy to reply here for anyone else who wants to know. I think it’s good to be curious about that which is inevitable in our lives. Far from being a downer, preparing for what is inevitable is the best way I can think of to free yourself to fully live your life. Fear is a lie. An open heart cancels fear. Open your heart and truly live.
Thanks for listening,

Buen Camino