I wanted to believe that this might be the only blog in town this week not about Osama or Obama. That I wouldn’t write a tome about “to kill a killer” or “to gloat or not to gloat.” Yet, in the end, it’s all really about the meaning of life, anyway. I’m talking about BIG stuff, here. I’m talking about THE POINT.

What’s the point?

And I’m not coming from that nihilistic, black nail polish kind of place. I’m coming from that stare into the mirror and sigh sort of place.

It seems like back “in the really old days” people had basic survival to contend with more than anything. Hunt, gather, and/ or grow food and do ones best to protect the family from marauders and generally bad people. Also likely was the added concern with the fate of one’s body, mind and spirit in the assumed or hotly debated afterlife.

Today, we’re still concerned with the procurement of food ( I mean, who doesn’t like a cold Coca Cola) and self-protection (could I ever build a wall high enough), however these basic needs are often overshadowed by the pursuit of new technology (patiently, peacefully waiting for the IPhone 5), preparing for retirement (what does that really mean in this day and age) and where and when we will take our next vacation (when did we need a fancy term for staying home instead of going somewhere else).

Back in the day when folks were primarily concerned with the survival of self and soul, do you think they felt an overarching sense of meaning in their lives? Do you think they felt connected to the rest of the planet; a kinship with other humans? Even without CNN? Makes me wonder…

When faced with my survival, is there really significant emotional and physical space to worry about the existential nature of meaning and purpose?

Today there are surely billions of people who are still concerned with their souls in the afterlife and who derive a sense of meaning from their respective religions or beliefs. Yet, I am unsure as to whether there is a unifying, universally coherent, common purpose for us all; something that draws us all together. Was the notion of the Tower of Babel (one of my favorite parables) merely about language or was there a deeper, existential notion of DIFFERENCE?

One would think the condition of our environment would have accomplished a unification for our species long ago yet the fact that the nations of the world can’t seem to work together to solve global warming is an indication of our state of affairs. We still remain scattered across the earth doing our own thing. Some countries still consider global warming an Other issue as a matter of public policy.

Then there is, of course, the issue of doctrine, dogma and subjective truth. The marauders attacking my village thousands of years ago believed they were justified in attacking my village even though I strongly disagreed. I mean, I REALLY disagreed with the essential premise of their approach to life.

Many of us today are in favor of free speech and democratic process until someone threatens us for real. When marauders come rolling through my sense of peace and calm, I want to stop them by any means necessary because I’m still basically a human being who doesn’t care about you until you make changing me and altering my agenda, your agenda. Then we have a problem, man.

The notion of that primordial tower was for all the nations of the earth to band together for a common end and build a structure so amazing that we could reach God, thus becoming Gods. However, that scoundrel God “confounded the language of all the Earth.” (Genesis 11:5-8) and set us back a ways. Now look at us.

I used to live on a small ranch in New Mexico where my neighbors and I enjoyed plenty of room between our respective properties. A gorgeous rock cliff served as demarcation to the north and then there was just land everywhere else sprinkled with some houses, horse corrals and the train tracks to the south. Each morning I’d open my front door and my dogs would take off into the sage brush and chamisas, doing their business as they saw fit. No leashes, plastic bags or parks. In fact, no one seemed to care what my dogs were doing or where horses pooped or how deep into my land the neighbors’ llamas grazed.

And yet, I was very aware of an unspoken code of boundaries. An understanding existed, floated, between all of the land-owners out there in the high desert. Centered on respect, folks out there beneath the big sky understood that we all lived out in the hills because we wanted the privacy, freedom and peace to live our lives without much interference.

Floodlights were put on motion sensors so as not to disrupt the natural beauty of the night sky for anyone else. No radios spewed unwanted music across the succulents and pinon trees. Our road remained unpaved year after year in order to keep traffic at a minimum. It was quiet and simple enough to focus on what was happening internally without many external distractions.

Many people thought I was off my rocker when I voluntarily moved to the heart of Chicago. And yet, city life isn’t terribly different from rural living. Not terribly…

People still like their freedom, peace and privacy they just go about it a bit differently. Less of an unspoken code here, folks seem very committed to the written laws in place and are often rapidly on board when it comes to their enforcement. People seem resolved never to see the night sky so who cares if you leave your lights on all night or if your car alarm goes off three times a night? Living on top of and beneath people day in and day out, it also gets hard to avoid being in other people’s business. I can easily distinguish when the neighbors are fighting and when they are making up…Hey, that’s city life, right?

Boundaries are a funny thing in the big city. We love our freedoms but we’re willing to do all sorts of things in order to make sure other people are following the rules properly. We love our peace and quiet but we can only attain real peace here by consciously choosing to be unconscious. While I don’t mind living in the city now, I do miss the unspoken commitment to live and let our neighbors live.

When I was a little boy we periodically visited our cousins in Long Island.

I had no older brothers or sisters so I was on my own to determine what was “in” and how to be cool from the media or by observing other kids in school. I would like to say I was better at this vetting process than I was but unfortunately I was rather confused by it.  My two older cousins were the best reference point I had as to what was lacking in my public persona. What is more, they lived in Long Island where everyone was cool.

My oldest cousin was a sultry, smart, aloof young lady who stayed mostly in her room with the door shut or would be “out with friends” during our visits. The first time I was granted access to her room was momentous on many levels. Her walls were coated with posters and images, yellow paint poking out here and there.

What struck me most was the enormous skull on her closet door. I forgot my manners and stood staring at its dark eyes until my jaws hurt.

“You like the Dead?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” How do I remain cool and not blurt out a million questions about satanic worship and whether she was part of a satanic cult.

“I’m really into the Dead. You should check them out.” The nail was in the coffin, so to speak. She must be into some dark things that a little boy would do well to avoid.

I was soberly aware that my cousin knew things and thought about things that were entirely out of my field of understanding.

Her younger brother was several years older than me and seemed much more tapped in to what was in and out. For starters there was the enormous color rug of Farrah Fawcett at the foot of his bed. I was certain this would not fly in my own room, but was even less sure if I would have even wanted it there. I would sit on his bed and watch him crunch barbells in front of his mirror, always shirtless.

His brazen masculinity awed me.

My cousins were both living in a world that felt very different from my own and they only lived in Long Island. It was one of the first aha! experiences I had in my young life when I realized that there were circles of thoughts and experiences that were outside of my own. While there were moments of overwhelm that tempted me with the urge to decide that they were too different for me, I learned a great deal from my cousins. I learned a great deal about differences. I learned a lot about myself because they were different from me. Or was I the one who was different?

I believe we become conscious in early childhood about the way we feel when we encounter difference. Does it frighten, intimidate, or aggravate me? Do I feel insecure? Curious? Ah, curiosity, yes…

How we make our personal judgments on things based on the limited experiences and knowledge we have at a given moment in time and space in many ways determines the world we share. As a small child with no positive connotations for skeletons (yet) I was convinced that the skull on my cousin’s closet was a bad thing; a scary, dark thing. I mean, it was a skeleton!

And yet, down the road, with more life experience and insight, things change. At least they can change if we allow ourselves to be open to new information and insights about the world.

I was turned on to vegetarianism in college at my co-ed, co-operative living situation. There were 30 of us living at the “Peace House” and we took turns cooking communal meals each night, all veg. I liked the idea of communal living and with tensions brewing in Iraq (it was 1990) the thought of a group of students aligned around creating more love in the world was very appealing.

I grew up eating meat (chicken, beef, bacon, fish)  just about every day of the week and was super attached to it! The idea of a vegetarian diet was more romanticized than an easy switch. I found myself eating big, whole foods dinners at the co-op and while I no longer felt hungry, I still craved roasted flesh. I was programmed (like so many of us) to believe that a meal was not complete, couldn’t be satisfying, without some type of animal protein.  It was more than a little embarrassing but I sometimes found myself drive to Burger King after house meals to grab a cheeseburger. Yet, the “seed” was planted and I was already more open to non-carnivorous alternatives.

However, I still resisted the “full monty” until I went to the Middle East for a year after college. I was walking down a cobblestone street in the Old City of Jerusalem when a religious man in white stopped me and gently touched my arm. He peered deep into my eyes with his bright, blue Paul Newman’s and slowly shook his head with great concern.

“Brother, you’ve got to stop the dairy. You’re killing yourself!” And here I had figured my big problem was simply cutting out meat. Thus was my introduction into self-directed Macrobiotics. I started to run with the dangerous crowd of macrobiotic, Orthodox Jews. Who knew there was an even tinier sub-group of the sub-group?!? I found there were hundreds of  observant folks in Jerusalem who took their religious adherence to include a healthy, sustainable diet that is in sync with the rhythms of nature.

That year I learned a great deal about how my relationship to food is deeply connected to my emotional life, my socio-political world and even the metaphysical. When I returned to the States, I brought with me a new sense of my connection to food and an affinity for Tamari roasted pumpkin seeds.

Lots of friends and family did not (and many still don’t) understand the point of removing animal products from my diet. There were times when I argued and fought about it, provided supporting materials and links, and yet in the end, I find the most peaceful approach is simply smiling.

One of the things I have learned in my life is that whenever I feel the need to convince someone else about something, I am already on shaky ground within my own being. Whether it is politics, social justice, faith or even food, if I need to convince you that I’m right, I’m wrong. If someone is interested in what I feel or what I believe, they can ask for more information.

So, I smile at the comments, breathe deeply and continue to enjoy my seitan. As the savvy vegetarian suggests, I’m counting on the hundredth monkey effect in the hope that more and more people will just consider removing meat from their diet one day a week!

Macrobiotic actually means “big life” and it seemed consistent with my intention for the type of existence I wanted. Since my time in Jerusalem, now more than two decades, I have delved deeply both into Macrobiotic living as well as the  McDonald’s Life. I have been lean and fit for some time, as well as soft and obese. Periodically,  I am able to maintain a macrobiotic diet for one or two years, amassing an array of jars filled with seeds, seaweed, dried shitakes, and grains. In fact, I have never felt more alive, more energetic and more healthy than those periods on a primarily macrobiotic diet and lifestyle. I love the rigidty of it! I love knowing that there is a very limited array of foods I can eat. Like Temple Grandin and her cattle chute, I feel contained by it…

The problem has been that it can be so restrictive and extreme that I find myself eventually resenting it and craving chocolate cake, pizza ( I mean, a whole pizza) or even barbecued chicken. Yet, as it is once again a new year, I broke out the brown rice and seaweed in the hope that this is my year. Back to basics. Right?

A great resource for the macrobiotic  lifestyle is anything by Michio Kushi and Jessica Porter’s Hip Chick’s Guide to Macrobiotics.

Being a vegetarian isn’t considered as far “out there” as it used to be: according to a 2008 study from Vegetarian Times, 3.2 percent of Americans are vegetarian, .5 percent are vegan, and 10 percent say they follow a largely vegetarian-inclined diet. Whether you are interested in eating less meat and animal products (or cutting them out altogether) for ethical, health or environmental reasons, here are the basics of vegetarianism:
1. Vegetarian: This term basically describes a person who does not eat poultry, meat, seafood or fish.
2. Pescatarian/ Semi-Vegetarian: A person who eats dairy products, poultry (including eggs) and fish, but does not eat any other animal flesh or products.
3. Ovo-Lacto-Vegetarian: Someone who eats eggs and milk, but doesn’t eat any other animal products.
4. Ovo-Vegetarian: A person who eats eggs but no other animal products or flesh.
5. Lacto-Vegetarian: Someone who eats milk but no other animal products or flesh.
6. Vegan: Vegans do not knowingly eat or wear any animal flesh, products or by-products. Some vegans also don’t consume yeast or honey, and often opt not to wear clothing and accessories made from animals, although a recent piece I stumbled on suggests (rightfully) that it isn’t really feasible to be a vegan anymore in this day and age…I have been vegan for several years of my life and it is in many ways more challenging for me than being macrobiotic. Vegans don’t have an easy time eating out and I LOVE eating out.

If you are considering a change in your diet that excludes or limits animal products, be sure to take appropriate supplements that can supply essential vitamins, minerals and fats that are typically provided by animal-based sources.

Want to Eat Less Meat? I’m sure you’ve all seen the photos that Manhattan artist Sally Davies captured of the same McDonald’s Happy Meal photographed each day for 6 months without any visible change.

Whether you want to minimize your consumption of animal products or eliminate it altogether, there are hundreds of alternatives to fast food and even over-produced, genetically modified slow food. In their place? Completely satisfying alternatives, from beans and legumes to whole foods.

I’d be a big (fat) liar if I said that I eat a perfectly healthy diet every day and that I haven’t enjoyed any meat from time to time. In fact, it has been a tremendous challenge for me in the past two decades as I have learned so much about the food I eat and still make unhealthy decisions sometimes. I have to be one of the most well-informed overweight people in the world. However, the dialogue is in place and I tend not to stray for too long if I find myself on a bender.

For now, even choosing healthier alternatives a couple days a week not only makes me feel better, it is better for the planet.

I believe that history has a funny (not always ha-ha) way of repeating itself, both personally and globally. It makes me feel better when I catch myself seemingly repeating the same behaviors over and over again to think that it isn’t just me slipping into those old patterns. You do it too, right?

History repeats itself because we often (usually subconsciously) seek out excuses in order to justify acting a particular way:
*Well, because I only quit smoking for a year last time, the likelihood is that I won’t really make it that far this time.
*I always eat too much over the holidays so I assume I’ll do the same this year.
*I’m typically weak when it comes to that ex-him or her, so the likelihood is that I’ll sleep with them again if they come knocking.

Let’s take this simple concept that most of us would agree upon a step further. C.G. Jung suggested that there is a direct correlation between my personal process and the process of humanity as a whole. Somehow the decision tree whereby I calculate the choice not to sleep with that person because I can choose a better path now as opposed to before is indeed a universal progression not limited to my own little drama. Isn’t it yours as well…?

“An archetypal image transmutes our personal destiny into the destiny of humankind” (Collected Works of C.G. Jung, 15/129). A common symbol, idea, experience, even a common dream, has the ability to connect my inner and outer world with your inner and outer world, linking my personal journey to the path of humanity as a whole. There is a certain magic to this concept that makes the world an even more fascinating, more alchemical place to live.

Alchemy is the ancient study (some adepts would suggest practice) whereby putrifaction leads to the transmutation of matter, most notably of metals into gold. The notion that we can seemingly convert static objects and states like stone or metal into a state of change and transformation was a process that intrigued many people before we were given the brain-numbing answer to free time and boredom, reality television. People living only a hundred years ago used to pursue the alchemical mysteries like folks today chase dreams of creating an internet start-up company or a new app for a smart phone.

It was commonly believed that for a person to attain the knowledge whereby an alchemical conversion was possible, a deep process of self-realization and personal development was essential. In this technologically advanced age, video games, Facebook, Twitter and TV in general, not just the reality kind, are things one would arguably need to suspend during the intensive, introspective, transformational process. Creating gold out of old Matchbox cars and cell phones takes focus. Some would say it requires a degree of enlightenment.

The Latin definition of Alchemy, Solve et Coagula can be translated as separate and come together, dissolve and coagulate. Those are VERY intriguing words for a psychotherapist, and I imagine for many others as well.

Jung suggested that the alchemy of the Self is a process whereby the individual exfoliates, even burns, layers of the self away to reveal the truest, most enlightened, version of our being. Alchemists of the Middle Ages believed that the person who could turn common metals into gold would need to have discovered a panacea, a veritable elixir of life, because it would necessarily be the universal solvent that when mixed with whatever form of matter, creates a metaphysical play dough that can be shaped into whatever the Alchemist chooses.

Following this so far? It’s the key to eternal life (and a reduced need for psychotherapy) so stay with me.

In order to transform the self I have thus far manifested in my relationships, my thoughts and in my life story, I need to uncover a personal elixir, a universal substance (or idea) that allows me to dissolve the places I am stuck and then draw together my broken pieces into a new, more empowered and enlightened form. That’s what I do when I do the work on myself to change old patterns that create harm or hurt for myself and others: I dissolve the old and form new ways of relating. It is also the process I personally strive to facilitate for clients each day in their therapeutic discovery and psycho-analysis.

Which brings me back to Time. I have a tendency (as do many good humans) to view my life historically, through the relationships I have created, maintained and dissolved. I conduct this self-analysis by understanding those connections through the context of time and space as well as my judgment of how I conducted myself in those situations. Hopefully, I view my past in terms of events and behaviors I want to learn from and improve.

For example, “I was a real jerk to that person in college, but I was just a kid trying to figure things out…”

“I ended up having that affair back then because I was longing for love and partnership but I wasn’t fully capable of committing so I chose someone who wasn’t truly available… “

“I chose to marry my husband or wife because I had done enough work on myself, dissolved and coagulated, and felt capable of creating a new version of who I am throughout time and space that, like gold (and Frosted Lucky Charms), I perceived to be magically delicious.”

There is a recursive regression that occurs in and for my self out of my own alchemical process whereby I transform myself in this moment as a result of a series of similarly transformational but static moments in my past. Like Bill Murray in “Groundhog Day,” recursion suggests that I am able to define my present state of conscious awareness by relying on a series of moments from the past when I believed I was indeed fully conscious. And yet, like two mirrors facing each other, I am able to see the mirror exactly in front only combined with a series of reflections of the same mirror somehow projected within the image.

Is it possible to perceive the changes I am making right now in the way I do “me” outside of or separate from the moments in my past when I was also conscious of change happening?

Is this possible without a universal solvent? Is there a panacea that allows me to solve et coagula?
There must be some common denominator throughout time and space that allows me to view myself as a self-aware person within a process of transformation. Relying upon this element, I build each moment of transformation upon itself, erecting a metaphysical slinky that when stretched and pulled forward enough, eventually snaps all of my past experiences and internal movements of consciousness forward in an instant. It soars through time and space and slams into the present moment at a grand, alchemical intersection of evolution, transformation, and perhaps even enlightenment. It changes us forever.

As we begin another year in the life, I’d like to invite you to take some time in the coming weeks to consider what constant has existed throughout your life that has helped you dissolve and coagulate. Perhaps it is not something you have ever contemplated and yet it might be something worth identifying, appreciating and nurturing as you move forward on your personal path to self-realization. What idea or belief, physical place, activity, relationship, etc. has truly served as a catalyst for growth and transformation in your life? Are you aware of your universal solvent? Perhaps it is time to become aware and pull the slinky of change forward…

Happy New Year!!!