Imploding or Exploding? Pick your Poison
Written by Donald Hughes, 2016

Recently, I had the opportunity to visit a remarkable, historically significant site called Cahokia. It is a landmark that was the home to a pre-Columbian culture, most notably for building mounds within their village site, some reaching 100 feet in height and containing some 22 million feet of cubic dirt. And I use the term “village” loosely, because this particular site located just a few miles east of St. Louis, had a population at its peak of nearly 10,000 people. That was larger than any European city of its time, including London. The people who lived there, from around 400 BC to 800 AD, were a highly successful society. The mounds were used for a variety of purposes, including burial, religious, and social needs. They were well versed in architectural engineering, farming, and astronomy. They had abundant resources, including game, wood and timber, water and land. They flourished for hundreds of years along the Mississippi Delta, and the Ohio River Valley along with many of their mound-building cohorts, known today as the Hopewell Culture. Then they disappeared, leaving only the mounds and a few artifacts, and some of their bones.
What happened? We can ask the same thing about some of the better known civilizations like the Romans, Greeks, Egyptians, Persians, Aztecs, Incas, Mayan, and so many more. We see how they thrived, and what they accomplished, and what they left behinds: amazing art, architecture, science and culture. And yet, they are gone. Some covered by thousands of years of sand and earth. And we peer into the past and try to figure it all out. Of all the factors that resulted in their demise, one that is noticeably insignificant is outside, hostile influences. In other words, outside enemies or conquering forces were not the main reason for their downfall. Even with the Aztecs and Incas, the Spanish invasion was only aided by the fact that their respective cultures were already in significant decline. All of these once thriving, rich cultural centers imploded under their own weight, and as a result of their inability to keep balance with their resources, societal needs, and political agenda. As the ruling class tried to keep control of food growth and distribution, fuel needs, military and defense needs, health issues and population growth, the masses simply out- paced the resources.
Contrast that with societies that have been “exploded”, or attacked and wiped-out. They often times will completely rebuild. I think of Europe after World War II, how cities, countries, and even religious groups were destroyed and yet thrive today under new brick and mortar. Churches and synagogues completely rebuilt, cultures and traditions re-established, and new ones born out of the ashes. Or the Japanese after the atomic bomb. Or so many other peoples that have survived even the most brutal assaults from outside forces. Some emerge weaker or different, but none the less, they emerge and continue as a people.
My conclusion is that more often than not, an imploded culture has longer and more likely permanent damage than one that has been exploded or attacked. The resolve to continue is much stronger when the latter happens, but when a civilization gives up or gives in to internal pressures, it is likely to die a slow, agonizing death.
As I stood atop of the tall mound in Cahokia, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness for the vast emptiness of the once thriving metropolis below. If I could board a time machine and travel, not back but forward in time, would I witness the same desolation that was once us? Are we doomed to repeat the same scenario, of wasting natural resources, out spending our ability to repay, out taxing the working class, poor political decisions and lack of true leadership? Will future archeologists scratch their heads and wonder how such a culture, rich with everything they possibly could want or need just waste away? Are we on that long, sad path of imploding too? Only the winds of time will tell.

The X Files
Donald Hughes, Feb 2016

With the return on the popular television series, The X-Files, we are again faced with the question, “are we alone in the Universe”? Or, as Mulder would say, “the truth is still out there.” And, indeed, he is correct.

The split, split second we make contact with an otherly-world visitor, our world will be changed in an instant. Regardless of the alien life-form’s intent, capabilities, technology, characteristics, or communication skills, our world will never be the same from that nano-second on. Not because we might become food, or be a focus of intense study, or just a resource for fuels, but because we will no longer be classified as Americans, Europeans, Africans, Asians, etc.; but in that instant we make “first contact”, we all become humans. That is the real truth.

Astronauts that have had the opportunity to view this big blue planet from space often comment on the fact that they are looking down on a planet inhabited by humans, and don’t immediately classify anyone into race or geographic boundaries. That only happens when we look at a man-made map from down here. From up there, when viewed from the heavens, we are simply humans.

When we finally realize that our similarities far outweigh our differences, than we will have crossed over to a mind-set of being human. It may very well take a visit from another planet before that epiphany sets in, as we may suddenly be faced with a “we verses them” situation. But, it may not take that kind of cosmic event to realize the same opportunity already exists, to view one another “as equal humans” and not particular races or nationalities. It’s been the goal and effort for centuries by the minions of the heavens, otherwise known as religion.

Whatever the inspiration may have been, the world’s great religious movements began with the same vision of humanity: everyone is equal in the eyes of God (whom or whatever that may be defined as). It has been man’s foibles that has divided that view up into sects and movements, sometimes with peaceful results, sometimes not so peaceful. Either way, like the lines on a map, our limited “earthly vision” of things is too defined and narrow. When viewed from the heavens, there is little distinction between our peoples.

The salvation of the human race and the path to rise above our differences lies in the realization that we are all humans. The gods understand this, and envision our progress as a whole –race with each one individual soul rising to his or her potential regardless of physical boundaries and borders. Our limited human experience since the dawn of man has taught us that, with great souls rising from all walks of life, even from the most dire of conditions. And, we have all been humans much longer that we have been Americans, Europeans, Africans, Asians, Etc. And once the gods decide to have us visited again, either by themselves or others out there, we will all be humans again, instantly.

The truth is still out there, and it’s right where we are.

Dance Steps

The rhythm of the dance cannot be practiced, cannot be staged,
It is only the steps themselves rehearsed at the start;
Once the music plays, and the beat begins, a war is raged,
Between the feet and the soul, the mind and the heart.
Donald Hughes, 2015

Even the best laid-out plans are often changed, often rewritten or discarded all together. As a dancer prepares for the dance, learning over and over again the steps necessary to carry out the routine, it is only after the music begins that the true interpretation of the dance is executed. The soul follows the rhythm of life much differently than the feet. We think we know what steps to take, which direction to go, or what pattern to follow, but once the journey begins, it is the desires of the heart and the emotions of the soul that begs us to follow.
How often I have thought something through, counted out the measures and the angles, only to change direction and follow the promptings of the spirit, the “music” as it were.
Early man knew this better than modern man. The Earth moves with incredible rhythm, and early man moved with it. They understood the seasons, and so danced following its lead, its changes. They were never vain or foolish enough to suggest that they were in control of the music, but only how they could connect to it. Somewhere along the way, we’ve become too confident in our feet and well planned-out steps rather than to follow the rhythm and the music, much less even hear or feel it. If we did, our dance would indeed be much different.
As the New Year begins, let us learn to listen to the music again, to adjust our own individual steps to be in- sinc with the heart and the soul. When we do, our dance will be smooth, our lives well balanced, and our motion flawless.

The Ankerwycke Yew
Written by Donald Hughes, 2015

I walked an imaginary walk today, in old Runnymede,
And could feel the soft damp grass beneath my feet;
Along the snowdrops and the river’s reed,
I stopped to rest, and took a seat.

I leaned against the ancient Ankerwyck yew,
And listened to the green woodpecker’s tap;
With the reverence of sitting on a solemn pew,
I folded my hands upon my lap.

Suddenly, a voice whispered upon the wind,
Carried atop the wings of an emerald dragonfly;
Could it be King Henry proposing to the flirtatious Ann Boleyn,
Or her soft acceptance, expressed by a prophetic sigh?

Like flashes of lights dancing on the walls of St. Mary’s priory,
The nearby River Thames sparkled like diamonds and pearls;
Upon further reflection, my mind’s eye could see,
The gathering storm of armies of bishops, barons and earls.

There! In the distance upon royal pavilions they waved,
Three golden lions, embroidered in bold defiant display;
When his elder brother, “the Lionhearted” could not be saved,
John, “the tyrannous whelp” was made King and ruler that day.

On a warm June afternoon in Runnymede meadow,
A relentless, cruel king was forced to meet his ultimate destiny;
The impact of his royal seal upon Magna Carta he did not know,
Nor how it would become the foundation of laws to make men forever free.

I open my eyes, and see the ruins of the Benedictine priory,
And I reflect on the foibles and folly of mankind, both old and new;
I wonder if the rule of law will fall into ruins like that old abbey,
Or withstand the winds and storms of time, like the Ankerwycke yew.

The Magna Carta was a treaty signed on June, 15, 1215, limiting forever the rights of kings to place themselves above the law and creating the most famous constitutional document in the English-speaking world. Legend has it that it was signed under the Ankerwycke yew, and tree near Wraysbury in Berkshire, England and is estimated to be 2500 years old.
(See Smithsonian Magazine, July/Aug 2015 Issue)

“And though there be on earth fens and dense afflictions, he who hath light feet runneth even across the mud, and danceth, as upon well-swept ice.” from “Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book For All and None by Neitzsche

A Coin Toss
Written by Donald L Hughes 2015
Walking along a parking lot, it is not all that uncommon to come across a penny lying, oft’ times face-down, in the grime and dirt. I always stoop to pick it up, brush it clean with my thumb, and put it in my pocket. But for a brief moment, I close my eyes and say a quick prayer of thanksgiving, not for the good fortune of finding a penny to add to my net worth, but for the reminder to put my trust in God that day. That reminder comes from the motto written on it, “In God We Trust”, and indeed it is there just for that purpose.
Secretary of the Treasury, Salmon P. Chase received many appeals from people all across the nation during the Civil War urging the U.S.to recognize the Deity on the coins. As a result, he instructed James Pollock, Director of the Mint at Philadelphia, to prepare a motto:
“Dear Sir: No nation can be strong except in the strength of God, or safe except in His defense. The trust of our people in God should be declared on our national coins. You will cause a device to be prepared without unnecessary delay with a motto expressing in the fewest and tersest words possible this national recognition.”
“In God We Trust” first appeared on our coins in 1864, and on paper currency in 1957. In July of 1956, Dwight Eisenhower signed into law declaring this to be the national motto of the United States.
It is clear to this author, at least, that it was never meant to force a person to believe in God. That is up to the individual religious sects and clergy, and indeed many of them are finely apt to the task. It was meant for a much different purpose, to express that this nation, and its citizens, should be reminded where to put their trust. Especially during turbulent times. It is always abundantly clear that putting trust in another man, or men elected to represent other men to do what’s right is misplaced trust. We cannot rely on the character, or moral compass, of mortal men to do what is right on behalf of someone else. Invariably, men will look out for their own cause and agenda before that of the people, and the founding fathers of this nation worried a great deal about that. They formed a republic based on divine-given rights of individuals, but knew it was to be governed by mortal, imperfect men. So checks and balances were put into place. But alas, so few actually put their trust in God to carry the day. Mark Twain, in his usually poignant way, said it best, “ In God We Trust was a fine motto, simple, direct, gracefully phrased; it always sounds well – in God we trust. I don’t believe it would sound any better if it were true.”
We have such disrespect for not only what the coins say, but what the coins represent. Each time a coin, or other form of currency is used in a transaction, it is a promise that the people of the United States fully backs the value of that transaction. It strengthens us as a nation, and as a people. Once while living in Thailand, I saw a man arrested for stepping on a coin to stop it from rolling onto the street. Why? Because he stepped on the face of the King, and that nation won’t tolerate disrespect of the King! Theodore Roosevelt once thought about taking the motto off of our coins, not because it was a secular concern, but because he did not like the phrase, “In God We Trust” showing up in disrespectable places such as speak-easys and gambling parlors! He understood what that motto represented. May we learn to put our trust in God, and not in the government, someone else, or even ourselves. Next time you pick up a coin, remember that and say a quick prayer of thanksgiving for the reminder.

Ah, April. She comes on with a bite, but really is a lamb at heart. She teases with her hint of warmth, but keeps an edge to be wary of. She starts out with a fool’s snare, but ends with an earthen beauty of nature and birth.

And then comes May. All things gentle, nurturing and motherly. She honors the mother and shows us what that means: beauty, color, life-giving and easy temperament. She is consistent and dependable, and ushers in the warmth of summer with open arms.

June. She is summer all the way. Bright, and hot, but stormy and dark when the winds are right. She has her own temperament, and as unpredictable as the days are long. She honors fathers, and shows us what that means: be strong, but mindful of the delicate and defenseless like the newborns and young. Provide the moisture, but be ready to pour out the rain in torrents to wash and renew if necessary.

The three Ladies. We look forward to their visit every year.

Written by Don Hughes, April 2013

Give Them No Regrets
Written by Donald L Hughes, May 2014

A cold, bitter night in the rain and sleet,
A hot, blistery day of wind and sand;
A sea, rough and harsh against the fleet,
A beach, a harsh and desolate land.

These are the landscapes of the soldier,
The places no one wants to see;
Here, with no fanfare or overture,
They face their dark, bitter enemy.

Wherein lies the courage, and the will?
Where lies their strength to go on?
How do they rise to take yet another hill,
To fight on until the threat is gone?

It is the thought of us, in our comfort chair,
Where we sit in peace and live so free;
It is knowing their fight is not in vain, and that we care,
That spurs them on to that final victory.

It is the pride of knowing they do what’s right,
And draw that line to keep the evil at bay ;
With conviction, courage and honor they face the fight,
So that We, the People, may live our lives each day.

As Kipling so aptly said, “Lest we forget, lest we forget,”
Let’s keep our soldiers in prayer and thought,
Let us not give them sorrow or reason for regret,
By not living up to the standards for which they fought.

Total Eclipse
By Donald Hughes, April 2014

This month, I was able to witness a total lunar eclipse. Early in the morning of April 8, 2014 a “blood moon” was visible in the night sky as the earth’s shadow passed over its face. It was something worthwhile to see, and to add to the show, Mars was highly illuminated as it was near the moon and closest to the earth in many years. A wondrous sight to behold.

Our world, and the universe around her, is in constant motion. Nothing stands still, nothing is motionless in nature. And so it is with us humans. Even in sleep, our minds and bodies are still in motion. In death, we are changed and continue to move forward in our eternal progression. So it is with everything in the universe. And, as in the lunar eclipse, paths cross and eclipses occur.

In the human story, civilizations and cultures would often cross paths and after some level of confrontation, one would over-shadow the other. Sometimes they would merge, other times one or the other would be totally overcome and annihilated. All that remains is scattered remnants or ruins of their existence. One world ending, and another beginning. In the case of the Roman Empire, which lasted several millennia, an obscure religious movement was introduced and although originally rejected, persecuted and driven out, eventually over took the empire, its leaders and culture, and Rome became the headquarters of the Christian Church. A total eclipse.

In the case of the American Indians, advancements in the world’s explorations and quests crossed paths with an ancient culture, and in just a few short years totally overcame their way of living. Although not annihilated, their cultures merged with the new and learned ways to survive the change, but not without tears and bloodshed. A partial eclipse.

In today’s world, cultures of all kinds are in constant movement and conflict. Parts of the world are so engrossed in cultural differences and struggles that it has become a way of life. Nations like Israel wake up each day to a new threat, surrounded by other nations whom want nothing more than to annihilate them. African nations are in constant struggle as war-like leaders and groups kill over power, land, resources and political views. A “blood moon” is indeed visible in many parts of the world today.

As the world spins on, with all of her six plus billion people, another total eclipse is happening. As the conflicts escalate, the world’s inhabitants rapidly approach a point of cultural evolution that will not be able to sustain itself. Like civilizations before, the pressures of self-inflicted wounds to cultural core-beliefs and moral standards will eventually implode, and leave little trace of our existence. A new world will rise, just as before. To the wise, it will be a culture of diverse nationalities, cultures and languages, but with one testimony of its divine nature. It will have one internal governing structure, with the leaders serving the masses rather than the opposite. It will be established with strict moral codes, not from force but rather from choice and a natural desire to serve one another. It will be a world of intense activity, a force that will move mountains (figuratively or otherwise) with tremendous energy. It will be established amongst all nations, peoples and places and although relatively few in numbers it will influence the whole of mankind, linking all generations. A total eclipse. A wondrous sight to behold.

My son and I recently purchased tickets to see the wonderful Canadian performer, Gordon Lightfoot. As a part of the generation that grew into maturity during the 1970’s, Lightfoot (like so many others) became a voice for us, and their song-writing skills reflected what was going on in our culture. Many of the songs were about the protest of the Vietnam War, encouraging peace and love, and pushing the anti-establishment movement. The great anthem, American Pie by Don Mclean, spoke about this shift in the seemingly innocent era of the 1950’s, to the turbulent times of the 1960’s. By the 1970’s, the movement was collapsing into an era of hard living, hard rock and hard drugs. But the singer-song writers continued to speak to us, and produce an amazing catalogue of music, with emphasis on acoustic melody and harmony, and lyrics that were simple and spoke to the heart. From John Denver’s soaring tenor lines to James Taylor’s rhythmic licks, each performer brought their own unique style and vision of the world. I am happy to see my son, who is a Generation X child, embrace the music and enjoy those great, timeless songs from the 1970’s. Once such song, speaking of Gordon Lightfoot, was “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”, a lengthy tale of a cargo ship that sunk during a storm off of Lake Superior in 1975. The melody is haunting, and the story that Lightfoot weaves with his baritone voice keeps the listener riveted. It became a huge, world-wide success for Lightfoot, and really shed light on an otherwise distant news story. I am sure that for the crew’s families left behind, it was a wonderful way to express their loss and grief and share with the world their loved-ones tragic tale. Without it, perhaps few but those in that industry would have known of the event. Such is the power of music.

As I heard the story of the Fitzgerald, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons to other tragic tales, such as the Titanic. In fact, the Fitz (as she was known) was also dubbed, Titanic of the Great Lakes ! But more than that, I compared her voyage, as I did with the original Titanic, to the seeming “successes” of man. Here were ships (in both cases) that was the pride of their fleet, the best that man could offer. They had unsurpassed luxury for their crew and passengers, top of the line equipment and current technology, and an attitude that dominated man’s greatest accomplishments and success: “full steam ahead!” And, like many of man’s endeavors, the over-confidence of industry over common-sense ends in tragedy with mankind scratching their proverbial heads in wonder, “what just happened?” And perhaps it is more than a lack of common sense, maybe it is putting trust in the flesh, and not a higher power and admitting we aren’t as clever as we think. After all, the inspiration for all of our accomplishments comes from somewhere, or someone greater than ourselves. When man realizes that simple truth, things turn out a bit different.

As I explored the tragedy of the Fitzgerald, I was surprised to find one theory as to her demise. She was a huge ship, 730 feet in length, 75 feet wide, and 39 feet tall. She could carry 26,000 long tons. And she was a record-breaking workhorse, often beating her own milestones. She logged an estimated 748 round trips on the Great Lakes and covered more than a million miles, a distance “roughly equivalent to 44 trips around the world.” In July of 1977, the USCG Marine Casualty Report suggested that the accident was caused by ineffective hatch closures. The report concluded that these devices failed to prevent waves from inundating the cargo hold. The flooding occurred gradually and probably imperceptibly throughout the final day, finally resulting in a fatal loss of buoyancy and stability. As a result, the Fitzgerald plummeted to the bottom without warning. Wow. What a metaphor for mankind. A common adage today is, “don’t sweat the small stuff”. It’s ok to allow gay marriage, it’s just a small minority. Or, it’s ok to legalize marijuana, it only has a small effect. Or, it’s ok to add a little sex to prime time TV, we’re all adults. But allowing small leaks in our culture, or personal lives, to go unnoticed, or worse not caring, than eventually it over takes us, floods us and we are drowning.

Thank you Gordon Lightfoot for taking on this tragic tale and giving us a great song, and for making me think. After all, that was the gift of the singer songwriter, making us think and motivating us through the magic of music.