This year is coming to an end; it’s been a hard year, personally and politically. I lost my mother, and the current political climate, the war in Iraq, have left me dispirited. My confidence, that with persistence and hard work, things will work out, is slowly ebbing.

Then something happened that restored my confidence. At this year’s National Caring Awards, one of the youth winners was a 13-year-old seventh grader named Jhordan Ryan. Her history of volunteerism and community service began at age three when Jhordan started making fruit baskets and distributing them at her great-grandmothers retirement community. Later, she collected food for the Salvation Army and blankets for the Humane Society. Then she began distributing books to hospitals, nursing homes, preschools, and Indian reservations.

At age 10, she was the youngest person in her town (New Castle, Indiana) to have the mayor proclaim a day in their honor. She founded Y.E.S. (Youth Embracing Seniors), a program where kids visit, send letters, and make relationships with seniors living in assisted-care facilities. Her latest project is Adopt-a-Soldier, which pairs soldiers fighting abroad with students in her hometown. She wants to support the troops’ morale, but also to give students a better sense of what it really means to be a soldier in wartime.

In my losses, with a nation at war that recalls my old Vietnam reminiscences, I listen to a 13-year-old who still believes there will come a time when we will make war no more.

God bless the children, God bless the parents, and God bless the warriors, if not the war. In this season of new birth, may this be the year we cross the Jhordan to the Promised Land.

Happy New Year, and to all my relations, mi takuye oyacin.

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Every time I hear about prison guards, my association is that this is going to be a story about abuse or torture (too much Abu Gharaib and Guantanamo). Here’s a story about a prison guard that changed my whole perspective.

Carl Cannon is a 44 year-old decorated corrections officer who works in Illinois for the US Bureau of prisons. Ten years ago he had an epiphany that struck him like a bolt of lightning. He was invited to make a presentation at a middle school during Black history month and chose to talk about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad.

To make the presentation more engaging he wore his prison officer’s uniform. When the talk was over he opened the floor for questions but the only thing the kids wanted to hear about was about prison life. Many of them thought it was a “cool place” to be, a kind of survival school for gladiators. Carl Cannon knew that most inmates, if they could do it all over again, would make different decisions. After that presentation he found a new mission. He was good at keeping people inside prisons, but he wanted to keep them out.

In 1995 Carl Cannon founded C.H.O.I.C.E.S., a nonprofit organization that targets young adults, with special emphasis on middle schoolers (www.Truth4youth.org). The program teaches students about the importance of making responsible, positive life decisions. Cannon has spoken to as many as 1,200 students for 90 minutes, and at the end you could hear a pin drop. He talks about the seduction of the “unguarded moment”, that fraction of a second when we get a chance to do the right thing or the wrong thing. Before you get sucked into the downward spiral, he helps them make better choices.

C.H.O.I.C.E.S. has an outreach program; in participating schools, teachers and administrators pick 2 students who have made the most progress in developing outstanding decision-making skills during the school year. Winners get to go on a shopping spree, receive school supplies, a computer, future tutoring and a two-year scholarship to Illinois Central College. Carl Cannon just received a National Caring Award, he said “it doesn’t get any better, than when a young person looks at you and says “thank you for believing in me”.

Here’s a prison guard Santa and his story embodies the Christmas spirit; where you start has nothing to do with where you can finish. Merry Christmas all.

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A holiday package arrived from Cape Cod filled with goodies. It was clearly from a friend, because it was filled with things like fishing flies and a homemade fruit brandy. The enclosed card was signed, but I couldn’t place a face with the name or when we’d seen each other last. Was it just the ordinary fog of a mid-sixties brain?

I’m forgetting more stuff, need to write down reminders, and it’s harder to remember names. The fearful thought crossed my mind that these lapses might just be the beginning. I found myself wondering if I should look into it further.

Scientists are developing new drugs and genetic modifiers that might preserve brain function. Nobel laureates are doing fundamental research on how memory works. We have identified the specific parts of the brain that govern memory. A small, sea horse-shaped structure deep in the brain called the Hippocampus is where we store long-term memories. The prefrontal cortex is where short-term memory is stored. Soon, scientists will be able to identify the nerve cells responsible for specific thoughts and behaviors.

There is a piece of me that thinks if there is something out there that is going to keep me sharp, why not go for it? And then I think about the ethical issues: if we get into the business of improving the memory of a 65-year-old, then what about a teenager who can’t do well on math exams or the SAT? Do we help him as well?

If we were to discover the gene that makes you more sensitive to piano lessons, or one that improves math skills, don’t you think people would be standing in line to buy it? Genetic engineering will increase the divide between the haves and the have-nots.

I’ve decided not to pursue the testing. I’m still doing well and hope to come to this time focused not on how much has been lost, but on what I’ve gained. And I pray that age might also bring perspective, insight, and acceptance, because these are the cornerstones of wisdom.

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Two weeks ago I conducted in a workshop with my friend and holy brother, Rabbi Gershon Winkler. Intended for healthcare professionals, it was entitled, The Torah of Healing. In it, we explored the healing mystery using the languages of the medical science of psychoneuroimmunology (PNI) and that of Old Testament wisdom. We talked about how to create environments in which the balance between body and soul could be restored.

Gershon, ordained as an orthodox Rabbi, is the grandson of the Grand Rabbi of Denmark, whose father and two brothers are also Rabbis. He was initiated into Jewish mysticism by the late Kabbalist, Eliezer Benseon. Fluent in Aramaic and Hebrew, Reb Gershon teaches at colleges and spiritual retreat centers across the US, Canada, Europe and Israel.

I met him more than a decade ago, when he taught at a Jewish Renewal retreat. I sat in awe of his learning and irreverent borsht-belt comedic routine and dubbed him “Reb Gershon the Winkler.” He founded a retreat center, The Walking Stick Foundation (www.walkingstick.org.), in rural New Mexico, where he combined traditional Jewish spirituality with Native American and other Earth-honoring traditions. We liked each other, and he asked me to become a founding member of the board.

We had long talked about doing something together and finally coordinated our calendars and did it. It’s hard to describe the intensity of the experience except to say “you had to be there.” The flow was magical, and I could have listened to his stories the entire time. This was one of them:

Gershon spent time with a Navajo Roadman (a spiritual leader and healer). During a ceremony, he watched him take out a small vial and sprinkle a few drops on a patient. Later, he asked the Roadman what the stuff in the vial was that he sprinkled on the man. The Road Man said it was very powerful medicine and the subject was dropped. Gershon was camped near the Roadman’s house. When he awoke in the morning, he found himself surrounded by lots of kids who watched him as he washed up at the outside spigot. Filling his water bottle, he took a drink when The Road Man came up to him, took the water bottle, and poured out a few drops into a teaspoon. Holding the bottle in one hand, the teaspoon in the other, the Roadman looked at the bottle and said, “If you drink this when you’re thirsty, its water.” Then, looking at the teaspoon he said, “When you need it for healing, its medicine.”

Gershon said that, for the first time, he fully understood the ancient Talmudic wisdom which taught symbols only have meaning when what you bring to them supplies them with power. Healing is a partnership between the person being healed and the symbols that open up the channels for the healing to happen.

We told these stories in the language of Torah and the modern medical science of psychoneuroimmunology. We loved working together, and we’re going to do it again next year. You don’t have to be Hebrew-literate or even Jewish, to have appreciated this extraordinary event. It’ll happen again next year. Join us!

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