Relatives:
My new mini e-book  “Stop Your Sh*t Shoveling” has just been released, it’s about how we repeat behaviors that make us unhappy. We may talk about making changes, but never quite seem to do it. I call this sh*t shoveling… Are you a sh*t shoveler? Take the quiz at and find out. It will make you smile (if not collapse in hysteria), and you’ll get to see me in a video that priceless.

If you like what you see, please post it on your Facebook wall (you’ll see a direct link after taking the quiz) and send it to your friends. Just for taking the quiz you’ll get you a free download of my CD “Horsefeathers” and your friends will thank you. Let’s spread the word and share the healing journey

I say this to all of my relations, Mi Takuye Oyasin.

Medicines to treat Attention Deficit Disorders are in short supply in the U.S. Hundreds of patients are complaining daily to the FDA that they can’t find pharmacy’s that carry enough pills to fill their prescriptions (NYT, Jan.1, 2012). The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry has joined the clamor saying shortages will be “devastating” for children.

The truth is, there is no shortage of pills; there are plenty of the high-priced brands available, it’s only the generics that are in short supply. Pharmaceutical manufacturers like Novartis, make both a branded and a generic version of Ritalin, Shire does the same for Adderall XR; both companies have assured suppliers that their stock of branded drugs is adequate.

This is not about availability of ADHD drugs; the critical underlying issue that needs to be addressed is that doctors are prescribing too many drugs for children. In 2010, doctors wrote 51.5 million prescriptions for ADHD drugs, with a total sales value of $7.42 billion. This represents an increase of 89% from the $4.8 billion sold in 2006. Doctors are diagnosing ADHD with such frequency that 1 out of every 7 kids in America is currently classified as developmentally disabled.

This increase in diagnosis is of course accompanied by the rise of drugs to treat the symptoms. Psychiatrists and psychiatric research is dependent on the pharmaceutical industry; their enormous profitability allows them to buy a lot of direct to consumer marketing. Their message is that if you are feeling anything other than wonderful in every moment, you could be suffering from a disease. If you’re feeling sad, shy, unfocused and over-active, tired, or angry you better call your doctor, because you could be suffering from depression, social anxiety disorder, ADHD, narcolepsy, or an emotional expressive disorder. The list of symptoms is endless, and we are creating more and more diagnoses for which there are always new drugs, and it has become customary for adults and children to take more than one.(see Schlagbytes, 7/10/05; 5/7/08; 2/21/10; 12/3/10)

We can solve this market driven crisis not by manufacturing more drugs, but by prohibiting direct to consumer marketing by pharmaceutical manufacturers.

I talk about this subject in detail, in my new book mini E-book, Stop Your Sh*t Shoveling. (shitshoveler.com)… among many other self-defeating behaviors… I think you’ll like it, and if it speaks to you, or if you know others who needs to make changes in their lives you’ll want to tell them about it.

This year instead of our traditional trip to a faraway place, my wife and I stayed home and our children and grandchildren gathered in Phoenix. Some went skiing, others went elsewhere, but we had a chance to spend some quality alone time with our three-year-old grandson Arlo. It was a fantastic holiday.

Arlo wasn’t quite potty trained, and his first day was one of over indulgence. Before going to bed, he had an accident on the carpet outside our bedroom door.  He was quite miserable and I promised to tell him a story the next day when he sat on the potty. He loves to listen to stories, and the next day he took me by the hand went he had to go potty.

While Arlo sat on the toilet, I sat on the floor in front of him and started… when Indian boys his age learned how to become warriors they were taught how to shoot a bow and arrow; how to hold it steady, and most importantly when to let the arrow go so that it would be sure to hit the target.  When those boys got bigger they learned how to shoot straight even when they’re riding fast, they knew just when to let the arrow go to shoot that buffalo.

I told him becoming a warrior, was all about learning when to let things go. If he could learn to let his poop go on the potty like an arrow that hits the target, he could become a young warrior.

By the time I finished the story he had dumped, which I took as a good sign but my kids said it was a tribute to my ability to talk shit endlessly. He had no accidents the next couple of days. It just so happened that a few days later there was a dance performance at the Heard Museum where my Apache brother Ken Duncan would be performing with his family, the Yellow Bird Dancers.

I told Arlo that since he’d been hitting his target in the toilet that he was now ready to be initiated as a young warriors society. Would you like that? I asked him, and he jumped at the chance. Arlo was entranced by the performance; especially when Ken’s six-year-old grandson performed the hoop dance.

Afterwards, I introduced Arlo to the family and later asked Ken if he would bless the boy as a young warrior. Ken took him to a quiet place, spoke to him, touched and blessed him as he sat on his grandmother’s lap; Arlo was mesmerized. When we left we celebrated his blessing ceremony by going to the store to buy warrior underpants; which he chose.

That was the end of his pooping in his pants (or on the floor). This may be the most effective induction and immediate change that I have ever done… no shit!

P.S. Speaking of no more shit, you’ve got to take a look at my newest e-book Stop Your Sh*t Shoveling. Take the hysterical quiz and find out if you are one and you’ll get a free download of my stories in Horsefeathers.

Happy New Year to all of you, Relatives….this is the season of new beginnings, and I’m announcing one myself. It’s been clear to me for a while that if I want to tell my stories to another generation, I’m going to have to learn how to do it on a computer.

To get an audience today you have to grab their attention with a sound byte and a 2 minute video. I have resisted doing this because I can hardly clear my throat in 2’ much less leave a message, but my resolution for the New Year was to stop making excuses and give it a shot. Can I capture the essence of what I have to say into byte-sized vignettes (my family assures me 2 minutes is generous),

I believe those who tell the stories define the culture, and since we rarely gather around campfires anymore, I want to see if by gathering around this new fireplace, we can create a global healing community.

My New Year’s resolution was to launch my new E-book Stop Your Sh*t Shoveling. In 45 pages it’ll show you how we get stuck in old patterns of behaviors that leave us feeling unfulfilled, unhappy and sick.

We shovel sh*t in relationships, we do it at work, with our parents and our children. Everybody does it at some time; we get stuck in old thinking/ behaviors that trap us into repeating dysfunctional crap. Fortunately, most of us most learn after enough suffering to move beyond the pain. But there are some people who moan endlessly about their misery; they think talking about it is the same as doing something to change it. All they’re doing is moving their crap from one pile to another, this is Sh*t Shoveling..

Neuroscientist’s explain how repetitive patterns of behaviors become more and more deeply embedded in the brain. Those old established neural pathways become such deep ruts that they’re hard to get out of. The good news is the brain has the capacity to reprogram itself… it’s called neuroplasticity. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been shoveling, you have the capacity to change, it requires only that you learn how to give your brain new instructions.

Find out if you are a Sh*t Shoveler… Take the quiz, I’ll send you a free download of Horsefeathers (my stories about deceptions and preconception). If you like this, let me know, and tell your friends.

Happy New Year Relatives and Thanks for sharing the healing journey with me.
I say this for All My Relations., Mi Takuye Oyacin

Tis the season to be jolly…families gathering, Christmas caroling, Chanukah menorah lightings, parties unending; it is also the season of renewal, new beginnings and farewells to the old days.

It has been my custom to get away from the commercial hype of this season, and take a long trip to faraway lands. This year the whole family is gathering in Phoenix and the party has already begun.

My granddaughter (a 19 y.o. college sophomore), just got home and we spent a Happy Hour in my library loft. This is my most private place; the place I write, and the only people with unrestricted access to this sanctuary are my wife and grandchildren. My grandkids (ages 3-19) have been playing here since they were old enough to climb up the spiral staircase. Then it becomes a place of basketball tournaments, music, games (Jack’s, pickup sticks, pin-the-tail), lots of stories and clowning.

But this evening we just shmoozed…talked about everything from choosing a major, and a junior year abroad; to the life we choose to live. With my gifted, literate, fiercely independent granddaughter, we talked about the life we live, and the one we dream about.

I’m in the winter of my life, and in my feisty, funny, freethinking granddaughters presence, I find the power to face the rest of my life joyfully. This is the season of cheer; celebrate the true meaning of these holidays while you still have the chance. Surround yourself with those you love, from the beginning to the end it all comes down to loving relationships.

The most common regrets of people before they die is that they wished they hadn’t worked so hard, expressed their feelings more, and had the courage to live a life that’s true to themselves, and not the life others expected of them ( HYPERLINK “http://inspirationandchai.com” http://inspirationandchai.com). Don’t look back on your life and see only dreams that went unfulfilled. This is the season to say goodbye to whatever keeps you from living the life you want to live.

I’m deliriously happy to be home for the holidays, surrounded by all my children and grandchildren. As I look at my life… I want to say Thank You, Great Spirit for the goodness, beauty and blessings that surround me.

To all of you Relatives, this is the season to love the ones you’re with. I send you my blessings for a healthy and productive year.

I say this For All My Relations….Mi Takuye Oyacin.

It’s finally over! Two years after he was found responsible for the deaths of three young adults in a Sedona sweat lodge ceremony James Arthur Ray was sentenced to a two-year prison term and ordered rate to pay $57,000 in restitution to the families of the three victims.

The victims’ families did not feel as if justice had been served. American Indians at the sentencing expressed outrage at this misuse of their sacred ceremonies.

Ray was hoping he wouldn’t have to serve any prison time, his lawyers said he had no prior criminal record, was a man of good character, and did community service. James Ray addressed the jury and the relatives of his victims asking forgiveness and promising never to conduct a sweat lodge or any other physically dangerous activity again. He said not a single day passed that he didn’t re-live the moments of that night, asking himself what he could have done differently…” I just didn’t know. I didn’t know that anyone was dying or in distress. I wish to God I would have. I would’ve stopped immediately”.

He still doesn’t get it; he wants to be forgiven for his ignorance that was responsible for the deaths of these 3 young people. Ray didn’t say… I knew I had no training or expertise to be taking these people lives in my hands, I am a great pretender.

Ray just settled civil lawsuits with the families of his victims for $3 million; which his insurers paid. I thought they should have garnered his earnings for as long as lived. James Arthur Ray will get out of jail in two years, and like all pretenders he will be hard to keep off the market, Ray will come out of jail with a book and a movie deal about everything he’s learned, and find a way to make more money than he ever has….The Great Pretender

At the soul level, I’m a hopeless romantic. I believe that ritual and ceremony have a power that kindles the human spirit. On rare occasions I have, performed weddings for close friends whom I love, Several weeks ago I officiated my third wedding. I incorporated into the ceremony lots of personal elements to create a multi-religious, multi-cultural ceremony that brought a diverse audience together, and evolved into a communal love-fest.

I got more kudos for those 25 minutes than any speech I’ve ever given. People came up to me in droves at the reception to tell me how touched/moved/appreciative they were, and by the end said, “ I’m sure you’ve already heard this enough”… I told them one can never hear enough applause because they could be sure that by the time I got home to the family, whatever smoke inflated me here would quickly be evacuated.

It turned out I didn’t have to wait until I got home to get deflated. I was standing at a urinal when a boy (couldn’t have been older than 7) sidled up to the stall next to me. I’d already been there a couple minutes, and was still standing there when the boy finished. He looked up at me as he was zipping his fly and asked “do you need any help unzipping your fly”. I laughed and thanked him for the offer but assured him I was OK, just a little slow.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt a greater act of loving kindness, because this kid was ready to do it. It was the perfect balance…moments before I was lauded for an inspiring performance, but what this boy saw was an old man who could spend an afternoon in the toilet.

The great blessing for me was the warmth in my heart inspired by a little boy didn’t care who I was or what I did; he only saw an old guy who might need help, and reached out. That boy restored my hope in a future for our civilization…I am a hopeless romantic.

Dr. Nassir Ghaemi, the Director of the Moods Disorder Program at Tufts Medical Center, has just written A First Rate Madness; a book about the links between leadership and mental illness.

Dr. Ghaemi, a psychiatrist, says Abraham Lincoln was depressed, Winston Churchill was bipolar, and both JFK and FDR were manic. He goes further to find sickness in business leaders (CNN founder Ted Turner), social activists (MLK, Mahatma Gandhi), and military commanders (Union Army Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman).

After diagnosing them as mentally ill Ghaemi goes on to say that we should stop stigmatizing these people as sick or healthy, and even acknowledge that a little bit of peculiarity and color could be an asset in leadership.

I say let’s stop diagnosing our colorful peculiarities as diseases, because this is why 25% of all Americans are diagnosed with a mental illness. Psychiatrists have succeeded in labeling peculiar/unusual thoughts and behaviors as diseases; this is ridiculous.

Lincoln, Churchill, Martin Luther King and Gandhi were exactly what we needed in great leaders; they found a way to mobilize their unique talents, got us through hard times, and lifted our spirits. If they were alive today Dr. Ghaemi’s diagnoses would have resulted in their being subdued with drugs.

Stop the pervasive psychiatric labeling of unusual styles and behaviors as mental illnesses and let’s start celebrating the nobility of our weirdness.

I am a storyteller, but until now, I’ve never told stories dressed up as the characters I talk about. My only costumed performances happen when I am in my clown persona with Patch Adams or at Oregon Country Fair. I did it for the first time last week at a benefit performance for my friends at Alwun House ( HYPERLINK “http://www.alwunhouse.org” www.alwunhouse.org).

I told a Native American story dressed as an old, hunched-over Indian grandfather in traditional clothes and a mask with skins and antlers. Supported by a wooden staff. I shuffled onstage singing in a higher-pitched, scratchy, labored voice. Then I sat on a stool, my hand shaking with a tremor. I spoke about my life. When I recalled an experience as a young warrior; I slowly rose up to my full height and with deep-voiced passion, danced in ecstasy.

Telling the story this way intensified its power for my listeners and me. Storytelling is the oldest form of entertainment, and the need for narrative is deeply embedded in our brains; we are hard-wired to be turned on by stories. When we listen to a captivating tale it transports us into the highest consciousness. Stories create visual images in our conscious minds, and also awaken us at the unconscious level; that place where we touch our fears, dreams, and locked-up passions.

The most compelling stories have three critical elements; challenge, struggle, and resolution. If a sympathetic character can captivate our imagination, it allows us to experience things that we would never be able to squeeze into a lifetime of direct experience.

Becoming that old man was a transformative experience for me. It was not my practiced platform presentation; instead I became a channel through which words flowed effortlessly. As I write this, and try to capture the power of the moment, I find that words cannot convey its magic. For the first time I owned the dramatic power of that story in a way I’d never experienced before. Performing the story this way simply made it more believable, and I want to do it again.

I wish I could show you some pictures but photos weren’t permitted so you’ll have to wait for the video.

The prestigious New England Journal of Medicine just reported (September 29, 2011) that 20% of all nursing home patients with Alzheimer’s and other advanced dementia are sent to hospitals for questionable reasons in their final months. Once hospitalized, patients end up with tube feedings, IV’s, and intensive care that prolongs their lives, and at a cost of $4 billion per year.

Why are these people referred? Because Medicare pays three times as much to nursing homes that take these people back after a brief hospitalization. The fault does not lie with the nursing homes; lots of them operate on narrow margins so there is a tremendous incentive to hospitalize dying people. We share responsibility, because as a culture and as families we say life at any cost is worth it.

Advanced dementia is a terminal illness. If you love someone with this disease do not hospitalize him or her at the end. The hospital is the worst place to put dying people. These patients are unable to recognize relatives, confined to bed, and can’t swallow. In the hospital tubes and machines may keep them alive for weeks or months. Is this the care and dignity you want to give to your loved one?

Get together as families; make an advance directive before the nursing home makes the decision, and be sure it’s clearly charted Do Not Hospitalize.

Let your loved ones die where they are surrounded by the familiar; let them go in loving peace, rather than sustain them in mechanical life.

I say this for all my Relations, Mi Takuye Oyacin

If you’re in the Phoenix area this weekend come to see me at a premiere benefit performance of The Healing Doc Meets The Mask Maker. Check it out on my website.