Les Phillips Blog

Sunset of an Era.

Twilight has been gathering for decades and now the sun sets on an era of reason. We are entering a period of ignorance and fear. It has taken us time to understand that we are on a long journey to restore Democracy, Enlightenment, Justice, and Truth. Noble goals require that we dig deep within ourselves to uncover the strength and courage that sleeps in each of us, waiting for the moment when they are needed.

Our culture uses myths and archetypes to define who we are, our ideals and core values; the humble, self-sufficient pioneer, helpful to others, and reluctant to fight but willing to when family and community are in danger. Myths are stories and the archetypes the characters; healer, mother, teacher, warrior, priest and so on.  Each of us is a collection of these archetypes that we use subconsciously to define ourselves. Occasionally, intentionally, we draw on these idealized selves to face challenges.  Now is the time to go deep and wake our heroic selves.

We all know the hero’s tale; the dark forces are lined up against her/him and all looks bleak, it gets worse as everything is taken away from the hero. But it is in this crucible of loss and despair that our valorous champions are created and inspired. In these myths, the hero doesn’t always make it out alive, but always, the cause survives and succeeds.

How do you conjure up your heroic self?  Like in the story, each of us must come to a moment of reckoning in which we face our fears and despair, see through them, and behold a future of equality, justice, and prosperity.  You become a hero when you give yourself body, mind, and spirit, to a higher purpose that seems unattainable. Sacrifice and courage.

When the first colonists arrived on the Atlantic coast, they had a dream of building a shining city full of honest, hardworking, pious people. Their goal was a myth that they created and then used as a beacon to direct them towards that ideal city.

We must do the same. I see a time when there is no fear, everyone is economically secure, we celebrate our differences and our similarities, we provide quality education for all Americans, we embrace health as a right and not a privilege, we are respected around the world for our generosity, and we protect our land, air, water, and climate.

When I feel all is lost, I sit in my backyard and watch life. What can be more amazing than life itself. The odds for life becoming and evolving are small, and yet, here we are; from disassociated atoms to self-awareness. If that isn’t a wondrous tale I don’t know what is. I remind myself that the history of our species has been rough, but the trend has always been upwards, toward the light of compassion, justice and reason.

We will overcome.

Who are we? Are we noble or savage? Do we honor the best or the worst in us?  How we treat the little children at the border tells us exactly who we are.  It is a shame that our nation will wear for many years into the future.

Here is my comment to a New York Times opinion piece about the atrocity occurring at our border.

What kind of country have we become when we terrorize children as part of our national policy? The fact that there is even debate about this shows that we have fallen very low.

It is common knowledge that tearing children away from their parents leaves permanent emotional and physical scars. But it isn’t only the trauma of separation that hurts these child prisoners. The dehumanizing effect of being placed into a prison environment and the use of bar-codes to identify children, numbers instead of names, resurrects frightening memories from the past. Are the American people so debased that brutalizing children is acceptable?

And lastly, what about the personal responsibility of the ICE administrators and agents in this tragedy? Don’t they share the same responsibility to report child abuse just as teachers, doctors, and social workers are mandated to? Recent history is full of examples of good people doing terrible things because they were following orders.
This is one time, following orders doesn’t cut it.

So, what kind of people are we? Are we going to let this continue? Are we just going to follow orders?

I was having coffee at my favorite place, Patisserie 46, accompanied by a few friends and sitting in my favorite spot, when my friend Virgil comes to the table.

He says, “Anthony Bourdain is dead.”

“No.” says I.

“Killed himself.” says Virgil.

And with that, a compassionate and brilliant mind sets like the summer sun. I only knew him through his show and occasional interviews and what he was willing to share. When he laughed, it was reflexive and real. He enjoyed himself. On occasion, he displayed an edge when confronted by bullshit. It seemed that he was genuinely open, first with himself and second with his journalism. His candor is desperately needed right now, it will be greatly missed.

Now the personal details will come out and some of those areas he left blank will get filled in.  The world is a much richer place because of Anthony Bourdain. Now, he ceases to be a star and becomes a man who is loved and missed.

Thanks for taking me to parts unknown.

The photo is, Plane Trees at Sunset.

Crocus are blooming in my yard. It is a spring day to remember.  Translucent, electric green life explodes through the mulch of last year’s abundance. Lilacs add a faint little old lady scent to the breezes. Sunlight dances, as the trees’ leaves unfold and swell with life.

I sit on my backyard steps watching two chubby squirrels gorge on the sunflower seeds I’d put out for a variety of birds, a ferocious chipmunk, a pair of ducks who appear towards late afternoon, a family of rabbits that appear towards dusk, assorted small things living in the yard, and a tribe of squirrels who wintered over very nicely.

I haven’t listened to the news today. I have no idea if we are attacking Iran or North Korea; or Canada for that matter. The President of the United States is a completely self-absorbed madman. His followers are angry that the old America is evolving and their social status is changing. They feel threatened and are destructively lashing out.  The President plays to his supporters by stoking their fears with lies and then promising to protect them.

Most of the news media, contributes to the chaos by chasing easy stories that titillate rather than tackle the more difficult issues requiring understanding, nuance and time.

The absence of news let’s me contemplate in peace.

I’ve been fond of history since 5th grade. Through these books I’ve visited our distant ancestors roaming the savanna, the first cities along the Tigress and Euphrates as urban culture and laws are invented, ancient Rome as its Empire grew and then withered, the Renaissance with the explosion of creativity that would lead to science, the Enlightenment with its light of reason, and much sooner, the springs of 1914 and 1939.

When I read the accounts of life just before the eruptions of two the World Wars, I am confused by how life just continued on normally, while most people knew, that something terrible was going to happen. How could they let disaster overtake them? Why didn’t they do something to save themselves?  Scientist and author Jared Diamond asked the same questions in  his book, Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed, when he recounted the story of the collapse of Easter Island. The Easter Islanders slowly stripped their forested island until nothing remained Even though the trees were a critical source of materials for survival, the islanders slowly chopped them all down. Couldn’t they see the calamity they were bringing on to themselves? Apparently not.

As I relaxed in the scented warmth. A chill made the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. I realized that I did know how the islanders and the Europeans felt. Sitting here looking at the crocus I realized that it was no longer a theoretical question.  I am looking at the last trees on Easter Island.  I am listening to the drum beat to war.  I can hear the chanting, “Make America Great Again!”

On this spring day, there is a poignancy, a special light that makes me want to remember each and every moment, and a feeling that time is both motionless and hurtling forward into an ominous unknown.

Looking at the crocus in my backyard; it might as well be 1914.