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From the Publisher
The Christmas
Promise As the year comes to a close, my thoughts drift to the last holy day of the calendar, Christmas: Christ mass, the annual time people throughout the world unify to celebrate that sacred birth 2000 years past. As I contemplate Christ’s birth, though, my thoughts are more with Mary and the vital role this humble woman played throughout his life. Little is written in the Bible about the mother of Christ, and yet she has always enjoyed a place of honor among her many devotees.
Circumcision
Revisited:
A New Approach
to World Peace
StarWatch
Lenedra Carroll
on Terrorism and Charity:
September
11: A Holy Day
Symbolically and physically, we remain blinded by clouds of misinformation, continue running from our responsibility to make personal and national amends, remain about the horrors of continual killing, and are left wondering how it will shake out. Yet, symbolically and physically, we are being awakened, challenged to deal with old energies of fear, anger, intolerance, injustice, brutality, war, religious difference (and indifference), and, ultimately, our inhumanity to each other so that we may all shape our lives and world anew.
Burden Basket:
Yes, his is the figure of the hunchbacked flute player carved on the pink and purple cliffs of southwestern mesa and canyon land, from Casa Grandes in Mexico to the San Juan basin, from the California desert to the pueblos of the Rio Grande. Petroglyphs of Kokopelli (carved into the dark surface patina to expose the lighter rock below) and pictographs (daubed on with a brush of pounded plant fiber soaked in earthen pigment) date back to A.D. 200 and earlier, recording his influence on far-flung cultures over a long period of time. He's most often found with what appears to be a horn or ant-like antennae, a hunched back and a flute in hand, knees in the air as if dancing: a pied piper of things wild and free, ecstatic and unruly. More often than not, he'll be found with an enlarged phallus, attesting to his role as seed-bearer and fertility god, as guarantor of new crops in the spring, new life in the bellies of the village women.
Journey Beyond
Fear On September 8 I left Seattle on my first train trip ever. On my last birthday I’d made a list of things to do that I have never done before; at age 53 I had never been on train, so there I was at Union Station with my sister and son saying goodbye like a kid on her first day of school. My very loving sister insisted on giving me some "streetwise instructions," which included martial arts defense moves and how to carry myself with empowerment. I had no real sense of danger or fearfulness, but I listened and was grateful for such a caring and realistic soul looking after me. On September 10, I arrived in Denver, Colorado full of wonderful train experience and excited to see my friends and family. On September 11, everything changed.
Synergistic
Spiritual Growth
On Taking
Responsibility and Healing Like all of us in this country and the rest of the world, I have been struggling with making sense of recent events and the issues raised in the aftermath of September 11. Allow me to express some thoughts, while attempting to offer a spiritual perspective on this situation.
A Greater
Silence
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We’re
on the verge of something big. With this issue, The New Times
has been produced and distributed every month, on schedule, for
199 consecutive months. To celebrate our 200th issue next month,
we are printing a special keepsake edition. It will include works
especially written for the occasion by nationally known writers
such as Dan Millman, Dr. Judith Orloff, Edgar Mitchell, Marion
Woodman, Daniel Quinn, and Jean Shinoda Bolen; local writers
that have often been found on these pages; and founding publisher
Krysta Gibson. Collectively, we’ll remember our past and
look to our future. We are also upgrading the quality of our
printing for this issue. This will be an issue that you won’t
want to miss, so remember to watch for it. Better yet, 
This article
was prompted by numerous calls, letters, and e-mails following
The New Times’ October 2001 publication of "
Jerry Falwell, Louis Farrakhan, Dan Quayle, the
chief rabbi of Jerusalem, and the Rev. Dr. Sun Myung Moon are
not people you would normally expect to have much in common.
However, from October 19-21 in New York City, all of them, along
with 450 other world and religious leaders, were all in one place,
talking about the same thing: peace on our planet and interreligious
and interracial harmony.
By adding the universal year 2001 (2+0+0+1=3),
to the 12th month of December, we come up with the vibration
of 15/6. The 6 month asks us to tune into how we can be of service
to others through expressing the healing power of love. The challenge
this month is to learn how to tap into our love of beauty and
harmony so that we can come into balance. Take some time this
month to work on beautifying your environment. By doing so you
will feel more harmonious and balanced and others will feel healed
solely by being in your space. Try to see yourself as a channel
for unconditional love flowing through. As you tap into this
love yourself you will be able to give it out to others without
feeling burdened or drained.
Since the arrival of her album Spirit,
I’ve been curious about Jewel Kilcher’s brand of spirituality.
I wondered just what her ideas were, and how she came to them.
In particular, I noticed her close relationship with her mother
and manager, Lenedra Carroll, and decided that Ms. Carroll must
have a fascinating story all her own. With the recent release
of her book The Architecture of All Abundance, I found
that I was right.
Within the thick cloud of horror choking us into
stillness on September 11 were woven recollections of why we’d
all incarnated upon Earth at this time. The smoke and soot that
blinded people’s sight, the mass confusion of running throngs
seeking escape, the mute incomprehensibility of so many purposely
perpetrated deaths, our wonder at how and why this could be,
still remain the backdrop of our lives.
Kokopelli! Kokopelli! His is a most melodic
name. It rolls off the tip of the tongue like a child exiting
a slide, its consonants forming notes that rise and fall as the
laughter of rivers. Go ahead, say it aloud: Ko-ko-pel-lee. He
comes from the south, the direction of intimacy and trust, and
among the many gifts he brings is a particular lesson, especially
for us.
I am struck lately by how synergistically
the universe responds to us in our strivings for spiritual growth,
understanding, awareness, and even physical and spiritual safety.
We talk about the teacher appearing when the student is ready,
and we speak of our spirit guides helping us. We also notice
that sometimes we seem almost magically to be somewhere at just
the right time to discover a perfect "next step" in
our lives. Admittedly, we sometimes like, and other times very
much dislike, where we find ourselves, but always we can gain
from the experience if we will.
The day was cold and wet, the ocean roar a constant
drone in the background. I had been two and a half months at
Great Ocean’s edge, living in an old three-sided log shelter
built by the Civilian Conservation Corps or the Works Project
Administration; I can’t remember which now. By afternoon,
the drizzle had given way to broken clouds with sun breaks. Finally,
I could gather firewood without getting drenched. I appreciated
these moments walking the beach, having nothing but time to contemplate
and observe life happening in a place so remote the animals weren’t
even afraid of me.