MOVING ON.....2024

A Note From The Author: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I am so happy to welcome in the new year, 2024!!! My Blog is changing-up a bit....mainly because I am evolving. Travel will always take precedence in my life and, my journeys will be shared with you. This 2024 version will offer a variety of new stories and personal ideas, as well. This is all about having fun and enjoying this Beautiful Journey called......Life!!!

Thursday, April 25, 2019

WISDOM SEEKERS




A series of essays....

 
 "THE VIETNAMESE BUDDHIST MONK, THICH NHAT HANH'S
FINAL MINDFULNESS LESSON: HOW TO DIE PEACEFULLY......."
 COURTESY  VOX


....as seen through my eyes!







By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Every culture has its Guru, Thinker, Sensei, Mentor, Philosopher, Sage, Savant......

These Wisdom Seekers are people who are curious about the world and desire to learn and grow both emotionally and spiritually. They live with a passion for truth and devote the necessary energy to reflect on what it truly means to be wise. They make the decision to embark on a journey to discover and learn life’s lessons in order to become the wise elders who will lead their people forward into a brighter, more purposeful world. Because they live in the present, they grow stronger by changing the stigma of past regrets and earnestly seek to eliminate an anxiety ladened future.

I have had a lifelong fascination with three areas of beliefs that include deep thinking, a focus on the inner self, and a nomadic inner wisdom of survival based on common sense and practice. It has been a hope of mine to learn, grow, and prosper from their teachings, with the ability to live a more enlightened life.



"IT'S BETTER TO DIE ON OUR FEET
THAN TO LIVE ON OUR KNEES."

























As a freshman in high school, I became captivated by a book entitled Uhuru written by a remarkable author, Robert Ruark. In Uhuru, freedom has come to Kenya in East Africa after the Mau Mau Uprising that lasted from 1952 to 1960, a war between the Kenya Land and Freedom Army (KLFA), also known as Mau Mau, and the British colonists. Ruark describes what Kenyans (both black and white) do with it and how they celebrate and adapt to freedom. Ruark captures a country in flux and brilliantly catches the strong, colorful nuances of the trials and tribulations of a country in turmoil attempting to find its way into the future.

I was hooked. 

Devouring several more of his novels the summer before my sophomore year, I had learned every detail about the tyrant, Jomo Kenyatta, who ruled the Kikuyu people, the largest ethnic group in Kenya, without justice and with profound greed as his goal. In the meantime, I discovered a writer who believed in himself and understood the power of the written word. At the same time, he opened up my world to an indigenous people fighting for their freedom from both the white colonists, as well as their own selfish black leaders. 



ROBERT RUARK
          COURTESY WWW.RUARKSOCIETY.ORG



My desire and need to write had been reinforced and, long before ‘bucket lists’ had been established, a yearning to see as much of the world as possible and be introduced to her people and cultures became my goal, my obsession. I was ready to change the world and make it a better place to live...

Sometime around my final year of college at Michigan State University, mindfulness, meditation, and Buddhism were swiftly becoming a part of my daily practice and general train of thought. 


HERMAN HESSE PAINTING
BY SERGIO PAUL IANNIELLO
                                                    COURTESY  WWW.SAATCHIART.COM







A dear friend gifted me the book Siddhartha, a novel by Hermann Hesse, originally published in German in 1922. It deals with the spiritual journey of self-discovery of a man named Siddhartha during the time of the Gautama Buddha, around the year 563 BCE to 483 BCE. He was a monk, sage, philosopher, and wise teacher and a leader on whose teachings Buddhism was founded.

Listed as Philosophical fiction, Siddhartha was translated from German into English and published in the United States in 1951 and became influential during the 1960’s. It was a slim book. Only 152 pages. But fully charged with “experience, the totality of conscious events of a human life, that is shown as the best way to approach understanding of reality and attain enlightenment. It is the completeness of all of life’s experiences that allows Siddhartha to attain understanding.”  - Wikipedia.

Mindfulness is the psychological process of bringing one’s attention to experiences occurring in the present moment, which one can develop through the practice of meditation and through other training.

The Vietnamese Buddhist monk and peace activist who taught the world Mindfulness awaits the end of his life at a Buddhist temple outside Hue, Vietnam. At 92 years of age, Thich Nhat Hanh awaits liberation from the recurrent nature of existence after suffering a stroke in 2014. He has been quoted by Presidents and praised by Oprah as “one of the most influential spiritual leaders of our time.”



THE VIETNAMESE MONK
AND PEACE ACTIVIST,
THICH NHAT HANH

 






A pioneer in bringing Mindfulness to the West, Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh has taught that we can all find happiness in the simple things in life such as peeling an orange or sipping a cup of tea and we can learn to live with peace and joy, fully awake to the present moment. Nominated by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1967, Thich Nhat Hanh teaches us that the way to peace and happiness is through personal transformation, and that Mindfulness is the key.  - Mindfulness and Meditation

Through Nhat Hahn’s many writings I have learned that, “A Buddha is someone who is enlightened, capable of loving and forgiving.” I believe we are all a Buddha in our own right at certain times in our lives. I love the simplistic teachings of this beautiful and honorable man. I wish him well.

Within the last couple of decades I have been learning more and more about the history, habits, traditions, and culture of our own indigenous people. Native Americans, American Indians, Indigenous Americans and other terms, are the original peoples of the United States, with the exception of Hawaii. There are over 500 federally recognized tribes within the continental United States today.


MOON BEAM AND STRONG ARM OF THE
POTAWATOMI TRIBE THAT SETTLED
AROUND LAKE MICHIGAN


Growing up with black and white television shows in the 1950’s such as Broken Arrow, The Lone Ranger, and Gunsmoke, we had become familiar with ‘Hollywood Indians’ and formed preconceived ideas as to who and what the American Indian was all about. It wasn’t until later, and after much library research and reading various novels, such as Native American Wisdom by Kent Nerburn and Pushing The  Bear: A Novel of the Trail of Tears by Diane Glancy, did I begin to truly understand more about our Native Americans and the major role they continue to play in our nation’s history and development. 

I soon became enthralled by their nomadic lifestyle, sense of honor and traditions, natural medicines and herbal healing, devotion to family and their tribe, and connection with the spiritual world and how it honors and protects the knowledge and beliefs of their ancestors.  


THE AMERICAN INDIANS GIVE PRAISE TO THE SPIRIT
OF ALL THE SACRED ANIMALS WHO GIFT THEM
WITH FOOD AND PROTECTION


Spoken by someone who believes that animals have souls, I know that many of us have experienced the oneness we have with the spirit of an animal. Our indigenous population value our natural world and it is included within their views regarding the importance of life, death, nature, The Creator, and their experiences with white culture today, as well as throughout history.

The tale of sorrow, struggle, and betrayal suffered by the Cherokee Indians is told in their forced walk in 1838-39 from North Carolina to their ‘new territory’ of what is now Oklahoma and is called the Trail of Tears. 

Even after a peace treaty had been signed between the Cherokee people and the U.S. Government securing their homelands prior to his election, President Andrew Jackson believed that all American Natives were savages and had no rights to their own land. He signed the Indian Removal Act in 1830 and set in motion one of the most horrific acts toward the Cherokee Nation when in 1838 they were forced out of their lands and marched shackled in chains and at gunpoint over 1,200 miles over rough terrain. Over 4,000 of the 16,000 Native Americans died from hunger, exposure, and disease.

The Trail of Tears is yet one more example of the blight on the history of our country and its relationship with her people. The United Nations underscores the need to celebrate indigenous peoples, not confine them, and has organized the annual United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues with the idea of acting to recognize indigenous people all over the world and defend their collective rights.

Patience, however, has never been my forte. If I feel the need for positive change to be made, it is difficult for me to have to wait too long to have that change happen. When people have been so blatantly wronged, it is imperative to set things right as swiftly as possible. Even in this, our country fails at....miserably. 

Native Americans have always been Wisdom Seekers. They seem to have the patience of saints. Their quotes regarding nature, healing, and living a life filled with kindness and hope are being used more and more today due to their positive connection between nature and mankind. With global warming, being brought about by man’s disregard for Earth’s fragile makeup, and looming so large ahead of us, we should all listen to our Wisdom Seekers. If we make the necessary changes within us, both emotionally and spiritually, this will help guide us in making the physical changes we need to make in order to save our planet for ourselves and for future generations.







Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved




Thursday, April 18, 2019

HAIL MARY, FULL OF GRACE....





A series of essays....


THE PEOPLE OF PARIS SING THEIR PRAISES TO THEIR LADY,
THE BLESSED VIRGIN AS THEY WATCH THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL BURN
             Courtesy of Chicago Tonight

....as seen through my eyes!






By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Waking up this morning, the morning after the fire, my nostrils are filled with the acrid smell of empathy smoke and my eyes are swollen by the tears that continue to be shed. It is so simple to identify with all of Paris, all of France, the entire world, today.

How resilient the French citizens of Paris are! After all of the suffering they have been forced to endure at the hands of trained terrorists, they kneel, illuminated by the orange glow of angry flames that devour their Lady, and sing their praises to her with great sadness filling their hearts! Like soft spoken tributes set free on miniature clouds of glory, their words rise above them and collectively float over the Seine to touch her soul with their Love.

No other violence occurred at this time, to my knowledge. No looting. No other fires set. No senseless damage done to anyone else’s property. Only the unified beating of hearts that believe in something greater than themselves can be heard. Their Beautiful Lady, along with all of her familiar relics and adornments, is reflecting powerful strength and courage in the distance; a Middle Age wonder caught up in the Modern Age of Martyrdom. How apropos that Joan of Arc was canonized a saint within Notre Dame’s hallowed walls.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

“Say three Hail Marys as your penance and may the Lord be with you, my child,” the priest would say before sliding the petite and fragile, curtained window closed. I would step out from the confessional feeling blessed and slide into the nearest pew, press my knees into the slightly cushioned kneeler and devoutly say my Hail Marys while gazing, lovingly, at the statue of the Blessed Virgin holding the baby Jesus. She has never let me down and has always been there for all of us.


THE BLESSED VIRGIN
HOLDING THE BABY JESUS


According to CatholiCity, the practice of reciting the Hail Mary three times, dates back to the 12th century. One of the first to practice and recommend it was Saint Anthony of Padua (1195-1231). His purpose was “to honor the spotless virginity of Mary and to preserve a perfect purity of mind, heart, and body in the midst of the dangers of the world.” Lest we forget, ours is not the only time period that danger and hate have infiltrated the world.

Stephen Colbert’s ‘Midnight Confessions’ segment on the Late Show With Stephen Colbert, where he makes light of the deeply personal Act of Contrition, allows Catholics to smile, be our vulnerable selves, and not be ashamed of our personal weaknesses.

The Notre Dame Cathedral has always been a relevant part of French history. To be able to save her shell of stone and mortar, her melodic bells housed within the iconic twin towers (bell towers) that have rung out historical notes of victory and hope for centuries, and her flying buttresses that are, even now, reinforcing her heavy, stone walls, we acknowledge the fact that her future rides on the capabilities of mankind. We remember her humble beginnings nearly 900 years ago when mankind mapped out her iconic beauty and gave her life in the heart of Paris.                                                  

We see her as being beautiful. It has now been determined that she is savable. She is so much more than just a pretty face. Notre Dame Cathedral is a symbol of the good that lives within each one of us. She is worthy of every ounce of our defiance and determination. God bless the firefighters who knew exactly how to do their job in order to keep her glory and symbolism alive. And, we are relieved to know that this precious gift of all humanity will rise once again!

My personal memories of Our Lady and the Notre Dame Cathedral are many. I have two visits that stand out the most for me. First of all, I remember watching our eleven-year-old daughter demolish a jambon et fromage sandwich for lunch while we stood admiring the The Bronze Star, the reference marker from where all road distances from Paris to other French cities are calculated, and was embedded in the paving stones of Notre Dame Cathedral square in 1924. We felt as though we were standing smack dab in the heart of the world! Secondly, Dan and I were able to attend vespers, a service of evening prayer, while we joined others who happened to wander into the Cathedral at dusk. The singing voices, amplified by the incredible acoustics, sounded like the angels singing their praises to God and we were fortunate observers of this melodic miracle.


THE BRONZE STAR 
                                              Courtesy paris-walking-tours.com


Our Lady’s personal prayer, The Hail Mary, serves us all in that the Lord does look upon her, his Mother, with favor and considers her a blessing among women. He has sought her out for consultation, believes in her every word, as we, sinners all, implore her prayers to save our souls at the hour of our death when we will then be judged by God. She is a powerful figure and the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris will rise once again to physically represent our human need and desire for grace and beauty while meeting our spiritual needs and answering our prayers for salvation.

Continuing to say my three Hail Marys each day, I feel grateful that the French will carry out the mending of their Beautiful Lady. I will hope and pray that its completion will take place in my lifetime, not to compare the original with the new, but to revel in her survival.


Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved






Thursday, April 11, 2019

FEELING RIGHT AT HOME WITH JACK RIDL





 A series of essays....




"THE CAKE WAS DELICIOUSLY SWEET AND SATISFYING."


....as seen through my eyes!






By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

I wish, growing-up in the 1950’s, that Jack Ridl had been a part of my life. 

I wish he had been there when several neighbor kids, along with my older brother and me, decided to dig a deep, earth cave out in the empty corner lot under the single, gnarled mulberry tree. Jack would have enjoyed the freedom we all felt in that haphazard cave right before the parents discovered us deep in the worm infested soil.

I wish I had been there to hold his hand and weep together when he and his family lost a baby boy (brother) at birth. The ‘50’s were often cruel and insensitive years.

I would have built cardboard turrets and lofty lofts in our backyard clubhouse in honor of Jack if we had been childhood friends. My ‘gang’ settled for large appliance boxes supplied by parents who were fortunate enough to be able to upgrade their kitchens and we cut tiny push-open windows on both sides and drew a version of the skull and crossbones above the door; youthful landlubbers dreaming of pirates and adventures at sea or a reminder of our own mortality?




JACK IN TEACHING MODE

JACK EXPLAINING HIS CONCEPT
ON WRITING MEMOIRS
 


I first met Jack last year. It was April of 2018 when he gave prompts for writing about our personal history (memoirs) and examples of his own writings that spoke volumes about his youth and growing-up and what circumstances helped to make him the man he is today. 

This was one of the best writing classes I have ever had the opportunity to enjoy and learn from! 

Marsha, a longtime friend of Jack and his talented wife, Julie, and I decided to treat ourselves and drive to the Douglas Congregational United Church of Christ located in Douglas, Michigan,about an hour’s drive from Kalamazoo, to study under the guidance of Jack Ridl at his three hour writing workshop. The quaint, white clapboard, and handsomely steepled venue fit all of us perfectly and by the end of our session my heart knew I was part of this welcoming  family.

You see, Jack Ridl is a writer, poet, teacher, mentor, family man, and......friend to so many of us! 

Jack is a former professor at Hope College in their English Department where he taught for 37 years. He and Julie founded the visiting writers series at Hope where his students named him their Outstanding Professor and Favorite Professor. The Carnegie Foundation named him Michigan Professor of the Year in 1996.

Jack retired from teaching in 2009 and is the author of several poetry collections including Broken Symmetry, Practicing to Walk Like a Heron, and Losing Season, all having won numerous national awards.


JACK'S LATEST POETRY COLLECTION


His latest collection, Saint Peter and the Goldfinch, brought us back to this little church last Friday where a gala celebrating the launch of his new collection was to take place. I could hardly wait to purchase my own copy of Saint Peter and the Goldfinch, whose cover had been beautifully illustrated by his daughter, Meridith, and be the proud recipient of his personal signature somewhere on its title page. I was not disappointed.


JACK CREATING A 'MUSICAL COMMUNION' WITH THE JOHN SHEA TRIO


The little church was bursting at the seams with friends, fans, former students, and family. The cake was deliciously sweet and satisfying. Crystal clear musical notes wafted out from the sanctuary in various ways during the festivities that evening beginning with songs sung by the Persisterhood Choir and the jazz beats of the John Shea Trio who performed with Jack in a ‘musical communion’ between poetry and jazz.





The highlight of the evening, of course, was Jack reading selected poems from his newest collection up at the podium when he sent chills of joy through all of us while he expressed his personal history and thoughts regarding the mystery of love and how he imagines love to be via personal experiences set in poetic form. A brilliant performance!


JOHN SHEA TRIO PERFORMING
AT THE 'AFTER PARTY'

BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS
ACCENTED THE GALA


Smiling boyishly while crinkling his eyes, which happens often, Jack pours out the deep respect and kindness that flows from within his heart and blesses everyone with his love. We all become a part of this long journey in life that Jack began so many years ago while growing up in Pittsburgh. Now, having lived and worked for many years in Michigan, he  conducts his workshops and readings while continuing to delight his fans with new material based on his loving and gentle lifestyle.

I love this sweet man.

The concept of love can be quite simple.

As if he had been my neighbor (playmate and chum) for years and we’d shared digging an earth fort or creating a clubhouse out of appliance boxes together, with each Jack Ridl poem I read, I discover more and more about the author and his intimate curiosity connected with everyday life, loss, discovery, love, and the passing of the seasons. Jack has helped to create an interesting journey that most of us can relate to and feel right at home with but, ultimately, includes Jack's personal history and deepest thoughts. 

My appreciation goes out to Wayne State University Press, Julie and Meridith Ridl, Pastor Sal of the Douglas Congregational United Church of Christ, the people of Douglas, my dear friend, Marsha Meyer, who introduced me to Jack, and last but foremost, to Jack Ridl himself.

Remember...April is National Poetry Month!  


JACK SIGNING COPIES OF
'SAINT PETER AND THE GOLDFINCH'




Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved


Thursday, April 4, 2019

UNSETTLING FEELINGS: PRETTY LITTLE BOXES







A series of essays....


   Courtesy of Webpackaging

....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Occasionally, certain prompts bring about reasons to share past stories with all of you. Several days ago I received a new comment on a story I’d written and published in June of 2017, shortly after the all too real nightmare our nation was abruptly thrown into began: The placement of a very strange and harmful man in the White House. 

Truth be told, the nightmare began late in the evening of November 8, 2016, and it has not diminished (in fact, it has only intensified) since then. 

I recalled a story I’d been told when I was quite young that instructed me to place each unsettled feeling or negative emotion in its own ‘pretty little box’ and confront each one separately and only when I felt the time was right to do so. It’s important to open each box and comprehend the importance of its contents within your life and deal with it completely before moving on. This is the origin of my story and I would like to share it with all of you once again.



Pretty Little Boxes
June of 2017


Life seems to be charging towards me in fragments.

They are small, broken pieces that float in the air like tiny feathers at the mercy of an afternoon breeze; sunshine enhanced bits of reality and imagination intertwining with each shift and subtle nuance of emotion. They are multi-colored cotton threads of fact and fiction that float along in a suspended state, oblivious to the passage of time or thought or movement. They are waiting, waiting....for me? Shrugging my shoulders abjectly, I attempt to carry-on as a functioning adult.

It is imperative that we set aside the time to assess our lives, take a personal inventory of our emotional possessions, even when (especially when) the fragments feel more like shards of glass rather than innocent feathers. We are human. We bleed. The lifeblood from our wounds spills down upon the soil at our feet and gravitates to the small streams and rivers that flow out to the sea....from whence we came. We have traveled full-circle.

I spend many days collecting my life’s fragments and placing them in tiny boxes. Some of these boxes hold dozens of pieces while others may be limited to only a few, even one, single piece. If the shard is an enormous challenge for me, it might remain in solitary confinement within its cardboard prison until I can, finally, come to terms with it; It’s label of importance scribbled in crimson with the blood from a recent wound.

Am I good enough?
   Will this major change in my life be for the better?
      How well do I deal with people who hate?
         When is it time to try harder or time to give up on something?
            Why do I allow self-doubt to control me?
               Self worth...
                  Am I strong enough to handle conflicts with my adult children?                                    
                     Instead of wiping out your pain, I should have sat with you and helped
                        You get through it! Life is learning how to suffer and survive, as well
                            As sharing life’s happiness.

Issues, issues, issues. Yes, there is a box here for everything!

If I am lucky, the containers are neatly stacked and labeled. Over time, they begin to resemble hand-painted, wooden blocks tucked away in the far corner of a child’s nursery, sometimes neglected but never forgotten about. How does one forget about his own soul?

Spiritless, often cruel, and unsympathetic examples of soulless figures do exist throughout history and the melodic tempo of time. 

When a prime example of this behavior happens to be a major political leader who guides the people down a winding and certain path of destruction with open notes of malice and contempt being his preferred Pied Piper's melody, we must become deeply concerned! We must become aware of the long term, negative consequences attached to his current actions and how they will affect all of us within our own emotional and physical capacity.

History has a way of proving that it is possible to exist without possessing a soul, without a personal check and balance system that, normally, comprises our individual emotional and moral standards. Some people exist to nourish their bodies, alone; their souls, having been sold to the highest bidder for shiny, earthly trinkets, have been professionally extracted and replaced by blank eyes that define the non-existence of rational behavior. 

Standing high above us on the mountain’s peak, he spreads his arms and surrounds himself with inhuman, callous, and hateful trolls that have been cut from the same cloth. Looking down upon the living souls groveling below, his ambition is to draw them deep into his fold by rejuvenating the hate and bigotry that has been bubbling right beneath their feet since the beginning of time.    

 It is important to be able to counterbalance such hatefulness with wisdom. With a ‘Sword of Damocles’ hanging right above us, it is even more important to be able to sort out the contents of our ‘pretty little boxes’ and, in turn, weaken the power of hatefulness that tends to dilute our wisdom.

The collective fragments form larger pieces as they settle within the boxes. Will time and purpose allow my thoughts to unite and form their own boundaries and shapes like puzzle pieces waiting to be snapped back together in order to recreate the original and loving picture they were cut from? 

It is important that the multi-colored threads of my life reunite into manageable sizes that, with my help, will complete a coherent tapestry of the journey I will continue to follow while marching to the cadence of:

Patience. Time. Understanding. Joy. Happiness. Hope. Balance. Spirit. Desire. Healing. Wisdom. Love.

And yet, the fragments keep coming. They are not shy.      

Learning how to manage the contents of each box with continued enlightenment, I open each one as if it were a little gift to myself. While tucking an emptied box aside, I am one step closer on my road to understanding that our dreams, hopes, and desires really can come true.  If we work hard, love one another, and remember to believe, we can empty our ‘little boxes’ and gradually fill our hearts with the kindness and love we all deserve.



Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved