Tai Chi – Qi Gong

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Around 60 years ago, I studied karate (gung mao gung fu) at the old Duncan YMCA on Chicago’s West Side under the tutelage of 7th degree master – Walter Borkowski. After pushing myself (and being pushed) I attained a green belt. I bordered on brown but I quit.

Fast forward some 30 years. I signed up for classes in tai chi and qi gong. I did this for about a year. These gentler disciplines were much easier to handle. We have probably all seen the gatherings in Chinese gardens of (often older) adults moving slowly from side to side – in synchrony – moving out and moving in. Tai chi is considered a form of “moving meditation.” Slow breaths and gentle movements that are arguably patterned after movements found in nature. Tai chi can be practiced by anyone – even those with disabilities. There are health benefits – for mind, body and spirit. Tai chi helps with balance as well.

Qi gong (pronounced chee-gong) is more of a mental exercise that does not require a lot of movement but does require a lot of concentration. Qi gong involves a repetition of movement – usually (in my experience) hand movements which capture energy, visualizes strength and enhances breathing, calm and relaxation.

These days, when I go to the local fitness center, I sometimes practice a few – very rudimentary – blocks and hand movements (my legs ain’t what they used to be) and then some gentle qi gong breathing. I do this at home as well. It helps with balance – though each day is a new day. Since there’s a lot of “aging” going around, there may be benefit for those reading this to check out these disciplines — tai chi and qi gong. There’s literally no downside. . . . .

Edward Everett Hale

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[A repeat from June 3, 2018] Edward Everett Hale (1822-1909) was a prominent Boston theologian and author.  He penned the classic narrative – The Man Without a Country (1868) — the story of an American Army Lieutenant who renounces his country during a trial for treason.  The lieutenant is sentenced to life at sea — never again to hear news about or the word “America.”  The story was designed as an allegory about the pains of the Civil War. 

From 1901 to 1909, Hale was the Chaplain of the United States Senate.   While Reverend Hale was serving as chaplain, he was asked if he prayed for the Senators.  “No,” he said. “I look at the Senators and I pray for the country.”  Given the current chaos, perhaps we might all profit by extending similar petitions. . . .

As a collector and dealer of historic autograph material, Edward Everett Hale was long a focus of my collecting.  Over the years, I acquired nearly 400 of Hale’s original letters and signed first editions.    How I started collecting Hale’s original letters is a story in itself.  Among the letters were perhaps a dozen small cards – each carefully handwritten – with Hale’s favorite advice – “Look up and not down. Look forward and not back.  Look out and not in.  Lend a hand.”  Good counsel for each one of us . . . . . 

The Lottery of Birth

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[While we’re on the subject of faith, an oldie from April 9, 2015] I’m fortunate.  You who read this post are probably fortunate as well.  We were born into a relatively stable environment. Decent parents. An education.  Job.  Family.   Friends.  A religious tradition.  We can travel. And if we get sick, there are doctors to take care of us. The twinkling spark that suddenly became YOU arrived just in the right place.  At the right time.  It was a lottery.  Of birth. 

What if that spark had come to life a hundred years ago. A thousand. For many in those times, they just endured.  Day by arduous day.  Struggling with the things we take for granted today.  Yet even now there are those who are born into a life of abysmal poverty, suffocating hunger and crippling disease.  Raised in countries ravaged by violence, hatred and injustice.  Where every single day may be a strenuous, painful and frightening saga.   Do you ever think — that could’ve been me.  Do we have a duty to help resolve issues like poverty? World hunger?  

And what about faith traditions that deny salvation to those not exactly like them.  Can a little boy help if he is born in Totonicapan, Guatemala?  Or to a Hindu family in Rajahmundry, India?  Can we help that we are born Lutheran? Episcopal? Catholic, Jewish?  Buddhist?  Moroccan? Pakistani? Chinese? And if the little girl in Zimbabwe never hears the message of [pick your faith tradition] what does that mean for her eternity?  Her hope of salvation? Is it a closed door?   I wonder how the Archangel Gabriel might answer that question (please see post of 1/30/12).

The Four Chaplains – A Commentary

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[A follow up from November 10, 2021] I am touched by the story of The Four Chaplains. By the heroism, the sacrifice and the amazing constellation of circumstance that brought these four men together. At that hour. At that place. What are the odds that four friends – clergy of four different faiths — would be together on that dark night, when a torpedo changed their world.

Question. Do you think the fellow who got the priest’s life jacket was first asked “are you Catholic?”  Do you think the rabbi inquired – “are you Jewish?” Or the Methodist or Reformed Church pastors asked- “are you Methodist? Reformed?” I suspect not. Four men died so that four men could live. John 15:13 states “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Could it be that there is a higher message? When these four heroes died, what was important was saving the life of a fellow human being. Yet knowing that they were sacrificing their own. Might God’s benevolence be similarly ecumenical? Is the criteria for salvation that one be Methodist? Lutheran? Catholic? Jewish? Episcopalian? Or another faith? I’m just askin’. . . .

The Four Chaplains

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[A repeat from November 6, 2021] On January 23, 1943, the SS Dorchester set sail from New York en route to Greenland. The Dorchester carried 900 civilian and military personnel as part of a convoy of three ships. During the early morning hours of February 3, 1943, the ship was torpedoed by the German submarine U-223 off the coast of Newfoundland. Four chaplains were on board: George L. Fox (Methodist minister); Alexander D. Goode (Jewish Rabbi); John P. Washington (Catholic Priest); and Clark V. Poling (Reformed Church Minister). The four had met at the Army Chaplains School at Harvard University. All had served as leaders of the Boy Scouts of America.

As the ship began to sink, the Chaplains helped organize the evacuation of the ship, they hurried men into the lifeboats and when the supply of life jackets ran out, the Four Chaplains each gave theirs – to another. As the bow began to raise, the Four Chaplains linked arms and began praying and singing hymms. A survivor – Grady Clark – said “As I swam away from the ship, I looked back. . . The last thing I saw – the Four Chaplains were up there praying for the safety of the men. They had done everything they could. I did not see them again. They themselves did not have a chance without their life jackets.”

The story was received back in America with considerable emotion. Each of the Four Chaplains was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and the Purple Heart. They were nominated for the Medal of Honor but were found technically ineligible as their deaths did not occur in combat.

On May 28, 1948, a stamp was issued to honor the legacy of the Four Chaplains. I still have my stamp collection and my examples of this iconic stamp.

The Jack Horner Pie

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I suspect that most folks have some family tradition(s) at Christmas. It may be where you go, what you do, who you see, what’s for dinner, and so on. For the Petersens, the Machcinskis (Donna’s family), the Bluethners (her mother’s family), it was always the Jack Horner Pie.

The Jack Horner pie idea originated with Little Jack Horner – the nursery character – who put in his thumb and pulled out a plum. Started in generations past – for us – the Jack Horner pie is a small box in the center of the dining room table. The box has open sides and is covered with a small tablecloth or Christmas napkins – with decorations on top (Donna’s grandmother with a skating scene; Donna’s mother with plants and foliage; and our tradition of small wooden Swedish figures). Hidden inside the box is a small wrapped gift for each person at the table topped by a single one dollar scratch off lottery ticket. It is the last gift of Christmas Day. The gift is tied to a long red ribbon that snakes across the table to a small sparkly nutcracker place card holder for each person at the table. When dinner is finished – it is TIME!! The ribbons are pulled – starting with the oldest person at the table down to the youngest (who must wait with patience).

Inserting the gifts so that they come out in the appropriate order (without toppling the box) requires a degree in engineering. And the Jack Horner pie becomes an integral part of the magic of Christmas.

Christmas 2024

On By scottpetersenIn Christmas, Isaiah 9, Luke 21 Comment

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given . . . . and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.   Isaiah 9:6

And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem (because he was of the house and lineage of David). To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.   Luke 2:4-7

Here we are again! Christmas 2024!   There is an old expression that the days are often long but the years go quickly. How true. . . . .

Best wishes to everyone for a Happy and Blessed Christmas, New Year and Holiday Season!!

My Favorite Day

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[A timely repeat from 11/16/11 and 10/18/22] I had breakfast at Lou Mitchell’s Restaurant with a client some years ago.   It was winter.  Freezing.  Snowing.   Out of the blue, he looked across the table and asked “Scott – what is your favorite day in the year?”  Hmmmmmm. . . . . I had to think about it – but not for long.  “Thanksgiving” I said “because I leave work early on Wednesday, Thursday is a family day and I eat until I keel over, I get Friday off – and I still have the weekend to recover.”  My friend nodded solemnly and was silent.  Chewing his English muffin. I looked at him. “Sooooooo Chris” I asked “what is your favorite day?”  He responded immediately “December 22d.” 

Now I am not the brightest light in the box but I do have a handle on the major holidays – and even a few minor ones.  December 22d did not ring a bell.  “Why, pray tell, do you like December 22d?”  I asked.  “Because” Chris said “that is the winter solstice.  When the days start getting longer.”  (See  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winter_solstice ). Ahhhhhh. . . .  

The winter solstice nearly always occurs on December 21 or 22 in the Northern Hemisphere and June 20 or 21 in the Southern Hemisphere.  The sun is at its lowest maximum daily elevation from the Earth. And from that moment, the days begin to lengthen.   There are many festivals and celebrations that surround the winter solstice.  For many of us, the dog days of winter are still ahead. But think about the next couple days. I still like Thanksgiving. But December 22d is moving up the charts. . . . .

Aristophanes

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[An oldie from August 28, 2011] In my post on “The Best Medicine,” I mentioned a favorite jokester — Aristophanes.  A few years ago, I was asked for a biographical sketch what famous figure I would most like to have dinner with.  My answer?  Aristophanes.   Nicknamed by his contemporaries “Old Baggy Pants.”  He was my kinda guy. . . . .

This Athenian satirist, was probably the world’s first stand-up comedian (I would love to be a stand-up comic but I don’t have the legs for it).  He was well-educated and began writing satire in his teens.  He wrote more than 40 plays of which only 11 have survived.  The first play penned under his own name was The Knights (424 B.C.).  It was a scathing satire about the Athenian politician and military leader Cleon – the arrogant demagogue who succeeded Pericles.  Cleon is aptly depicted in the play as a bloated and intoxicated lout – whose face and toga are always smeared with wine.  As mentioned in my prior post, Aristophanes sometimes played the part of Cleon – lurching onto stage, staggering around and mumbling – because he wanted to make sure the part was played “properly.” The spoof was wonderfully popular with everyone in Athens — except for Cleon who sent messengers to Aristophanes suggesting that he “cool it.” 

In the world of literature, the satiric works of Ben Jonson and Henry Fielding were influenced by Aristophanes.  Examine the comedies of Shakespeare and you will find the tongue-in-cheek humor of Aristophanes swimming beneath the surface. If we sat down to dinner, I’d order some Greek crab cakes, moussaka, spanakopita and pastitsio — with a bottle or two of agiorgitiko.    Then we’d start telling jokes . . . . .  

The Fork in the Road

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[A repeat of October 10, 2020] The last public event that I attended was on March 6, 2020.  It was the annual joint meeting of The Chicago Literary Club and The Fortnightly of Chicago.  About 200 folks gathered at the famed Lathrop House – home of the Fortnightly.  Two members of each organization (including yours truly) were invited to deliver a twelve minute paper to those in attendance (the paper is online at http://www.chilit.org).   The topic for each presenter was – “The Fork in the Road.”  Little did we know. . . . .

There are many things over which we have no control – the calendar, the lottery of birth, the tyranny of the clock, gravity, physics and biology all have their way with our lives whether we like it or not.  But there is an abbondanza of decisions for which we have a hand on the wheel — at least somewhat.  There are big decisions (should I ask her to marry me?) and little decisions (hmmm. . . chicken noodle soup or beet salad?).  

Every day, the decisions – the roads and forks – keep coming.  And while we may see the fork in the road, we don’t always see what lies beyond. And as each one of us knows – life can turn on a dime.  We all have a narrative about how in the world we ended up where we are today.  An agglomeration of forks, bumps, twists and turns.  “Poof” – here we are.

Covid-19 has been a painful fork in the road over which the world has had little control.  Little did I know the irony of the topic on that evening of March 6th.   And what the road would bring.  And as I sit here today – I wonder how long that road will last. . . .  

Postscript – Today, Covid is pretty much in the rear view mirror. Yet there are new forks in the road looming in the distance. This post was penned four years ago. How will things look four years from now?