I remember being a teenager wanting to hide in the branches of a maple tree. There were many to chose from in the place I grew up, but there was one in particular that was far enough away from the house that still held a commanding view of anybody going in or out—anybody who might be looking for me.
The tree was near the wall which ran alongside the road, so it also had an interesting view in that sense—letting me see from its vantage point the coming and goings of the neighbors. (We had very interesting neighbors but I’ll get to that some other time.)
What I’ve been thinking about is the kind of power I felt being up near the top of the tree. I even surprised myself how far up it was possible to climb in a maple tree. There were branches that were less than an inch in diameter, fresh, strong green branches growing vertical, at the top of the tree which easily held my weight—although my weight was not great, probably about a hundred pounds. I was a fairly skinny child.
Climbing to the top would happen in stages. I’d wait to become comfortable at a certain height, and then after awhile, want to go farther up until there was nowhere left to go.
The most exhilarating part of the experience was simple to be up there, as high as the physics of the tree would allow. What I still remember clearly, was the feeling of the wind swaying the branches to which I clung. It could get fairly exciting up at the top when the wind was strong—the branches bending extra much with my added weight. But I don’t ever remember the tree letting me down, even when I managed to climb the point where my head was almost above the leaf line.
This whole scenario is, in the scheme of my life, not a huge thing but for some reason it is something I think of often. I’m not sure what it was about being up there at the top of the maple tree in the wind that made me feel so good. But the fact is, that it did—especially when the wind was bright and strong.
He sits--the old man sits
in a straight up wood chair
somewhere in the woods
He is comfortable in this
kind of chair--the kind of chair
they have in school
The old man is too old
to remember school--
He has Alzheimer's disease
He doesn't know where he is
in the woods--at the moment
it doesn't matter
There are a million leaves
on all sides of me,
is what he is thinking
A million? Or a billion?
Or a trillion?
Or a zillion...
The old man runs out of numbers
big enough to count all the leaves
Thousands?
Green Wallace, he knows his name
Wallace Green?
Green Wallace?
A tear rolls down beside the old man's nose.
The old man feels something fall
on his leg.
It made me happy to see my son Andrew lying on the living room couch yesterday reading a book. It was "The Sun also Rises" by Ernest Hemingway.
Later, as I passed through the room and MTV was back on the television, I told Andrew that Hemingway was one of my favorite authors. "Mine too!" He sounded happy to have that piece of information. Then, I think just because I wanted to remember the joy I’d gotten reading his words, as I headed into the front hall and walked up the stairs, I listed out loud all the titles of Hemingway’s books that I could remember.
The other day, something I wrote something in my blog brought back the memory of Albert Camus. Something about the thought of me as a young student thinking I had all the answers and discovering Sartre and Camus. On the way back from my Vet’s meeting Tuesday night, I stopped off at the library and found a book that I hadn’t read by Albert Camus—in English—one that had been published after his death. It’s called, "The First Man."
When I settled myself into bed and began to read, I was once again—as thankfully happens every once in awhile, swept away by the incredible power of words. Since the book was written in French and this is in English, credit has to go to the translator, David Hapgood, as well.
"Above the wagon rolling along a stony road, big thick clouds were hurrying to the East through the dusk. Three days ago they had inflated over the Atlantic, had waited for a wind from the West, had set out, slowly at first then faster and faster, had flown over the phosphorescent autumn waters, straight to the continent, had unraveled on the Moroccan peaks, had gathered again in flocks on the high plateaus of Algeria, and now, at the approaches to the Tunisian frontier, were trying to reach the Tyrrhenian Sea to lose themselves in it. After a journey of thousands of kilometers over what seemed to be an immense island, shielded by the moving waters to the North and to the South by the congealed waves of the sands, passing scarcely any faster above this nameless country than had empires and peoples over the millennia, their momentum was wearing out and some already were melting into occasional large raindrops that were beginning to plop on the canvas hood above the four travelers."
It happened in a lawn chair, this past weekend, beneath my favorite tall white pine. Perhaps the tree is some sort of lightening rod, which attracts messages from heaven.
What I saw was a path through the forest. The floor of the path was covered with pine needles that reflected the pure white light coming from the distance—the place the path was leading to. The path was surrounded by trees; it looked like a tunnel with foliage on three sides and then the pine on the floor. The trees were of a golden hue but very light, lighter than autumn leaves—just a kind of glow.
I don’t know what this image meant or means except that it made me feel like the path is a good and beautiful place to be.
The discussion was about God—or our Higher Power—two words for the same thing. Which is the lesson I learned today…everyone has a different image of God. Even if you and I think of Jesus is God, I’m sure he is a different being to both of us. But beyond Jesus, are Mohammed and Moses. And for the Hindus alone there are Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu and Krishna and Sarasvati and Lakshmi and many, many, many other aspects—and names—of God. There is Buddha, who to me is a kind and wise and forgiving God—maybe the most "human" of all the gods.
Something became clear to me today—and that is, that God is a lot like whoever it is that is imagining Him. Which makes perfect, simple sense to me. Since we are all likenesses of God, why shouldn’t He (or She) be just like me—or you?
The older I get, the wiser I get, the more I see that God is really everything. God is what we are. God is what we see—imagined or real—all around us. The truth is…the Truth is: that God IS us. In other words, we ARE God. So how we picture God is up to us, it’s true.
I get nervous when people say that God told them to do this or that—which is not at all what I’m getting at here. I don’t hear voices from God, or God’s voice. I just know—when I look out at a forest of trees and am overcome by the beauty of the sun’s rays shining through the branches, that I feel this beauty I am seeing is a gift from God, and what I am seeing is really God revealing a small part of himself.
And one more thing: The eyes that are seeing the sun’s beautiful rays shining down through the tree branches, are God’s eyes too.
I remember being in prep school, the New Hampton School for Boys in New Hampton, New Hampshire, walking through the falling snow after dinner to the library. And when I was supposed to be studying algebra, I was reading Albert Camus and Jean Paul Sartre knowing—without a doubt—that I was the only person in that school in that small town who had found the answer to the big question, "What is?" The answer, of course, was "nothing is."
I’ve lived a whole life since then—maybe a couple of lives. I’ve been married, had children, gone to war, come back from war, gone on some spiritual quests, held several jobs, had some heart operations, written some books… and, strange as it might seem, I’m thinking of late, that Camus might’ve been right. I see his point, anyway—it’s very Buddhist.
In the end, does it really matter what I’ve accomplished? I mean, I think of my book Beneath Buddha’s Eyes, of its flaws and how I could’ve made it better. I think of my parenting…not great. My work career—the best thing about that is that I quit it at a high point. I don’t know, what if I hadn’t done any of this stuff? What if I’d remained in Switzerland working for Maharishi and done nothing more than meditated each and every day for the past twenty years? Or not even done that. Just remained a fisherman on an anchovy boat in Santa Barbara.
Now that we’re packing up the family and heading for the boondocks, all the stuff I’ve supposedly accomplished seems irrelevant. Hopefully, we’ll leave here with a few dollars in our pockets, but I’m thinking what I should really do is clean out the clutter of accomplishments from my attic as well as all the boxes of books I’ve read…except of course, "The Stranger."
One weird accomplishment I don’t need to be proud of any longer: I remember back at New Hampton, reading Camus’ book "L’Etranger" in the original French. Wow—wasn’t I cool! I can leave that behind as well.
This is the most difficult thing in the world for me to do. I almost always feel like I have to be in motion. Maybe that’s what makes me feel alive! And I mean that in a very real sense; it’s as if, I don’t feel myself moving I might think I was dead or something.
This means that it almost doesn’t matter WHAT I DO, as long as I’m doing something. And the faster—the more motion involved—the better!
Today, I’ve vowed to practice doing less. Maharishi always says, "do less to accomplish more." Which is a revolutionary thought. The idea is that if we learn to act from a more powerful place within ourselves, at a deeper level of thought, our thoughts, and thus our actions are more powerful.
For myself, I have to practice being brave—to dare to just do less or do nothing. Slowly I am training myself to follow my bliss, but wouldn’t it be very cool to be able just to follow nothing at all…to just be.
How to do this? I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on this. For now, well…
I believe there is an innate human need within each of us, to find what is essentially real and true about ourselves. The stronger realization of this need becomes within us, the more it becomes a direction we must follow. Most likely, it is a direction we are already moving in, which we, at some point, through some event, suddenly becomes something we are able to see, to recognize.
As our true direction becomes clearer, other less important things start to blur and fade away. To me, it feels like I’m riding in the passenger seat of a car, which is picking up speed; I’m looking out the window and seeing things outside become a blur.
I have faith that the road I’m on is leading in the right direction. I am happy. I feel such relief that I sigh, feeling the muscles in my neck relax until I am sitting back enjoying the ride!
It was fairly simple: All I had to do, all along, was to turn my head a bit and look out the window. And to remember that somebody else is driving.
"THE SOUL FOOD CAFÉ" –A WONDERFUL WRITER’S WEB SITE
"I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried in my heart." – Anne Frank
This pearl is just one of many I found when I dove beneath the surface of the "Soul Food Café one of the most beautiful web sites I’ve seen. Being there, in the site, is something like being under water, looking up at the sun’s rays reflecting off the blue liquid.
There is a lot about Lemuria, the ancient civilization that is said to lie beneath the Pacific Ocean. Since my family and I are moving to California, somehow there is this draw of things having to do with the Pacific and that part of the world. I’ve lived in California before—shortly after returning from Vietnam and being discharged from the Army. It is where, while working on an anchovy boat in Santa Barbara, I first heard about Transcendental Meditation and began a spiritual journey that took me to Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and the knowledge of the Vedas.
I hope to find what it is that this westward draw has to offer—why it is happening.
Heather Blakey, creator of the Soul Food Café said she found my site by accident--although I don’t believe anything is purely by chance! She gave me the opportunity to write something, which appears on the site now—"A Tale of Two Trees" —about the experience of meditating under a pine tree in my yard in Connecticut and dreaming about finding a tree to meditate under in California.
I mention this so that you will pay a visit to the Soul Food Café and have the blissful experience of Lemuria—it’s really very beautiful there!
"I picked up your book and began scanning it. I called Ken over and said, 'Ken you have got to see this book.' He began reading it and wept. Thank you Tony for entering our lives."
-– Diana Spencer, Pascagoula, MS.
"Professionals can learn something from this little book and can recommend it helpfully to help guide the survival of combat veterans."
-– Arthur L. Arnold, DVA Outpatient Clinic, Superior, WI
"I am writing to convey how much pleasure I derived from reading your book. I am familiar with several of the 'preachy books' out there. By no means do they compare to yours. Yours was the first to express how we're all in this together. – Clement J, Ross, Jr, Former Army Airborne Ranger
"I'm 15 years old and I guess I'm writing because I'm scared. Your book has helped me a lot. Thank you for offering hope." – Meaghan Holland (15), student, Baltimore, MD.
"A little treasure." – Mary Lou Block, host of "Woman to Woman" a nationally syndicated radio program.
"I know that LIFE IS WAR" will help a lot of people. – John Hollenhorst, Network news anchor, Salt Lake City, UT
"I think that everyone with symptoms of PTSD, should read your book." – Enristo Flores LMSW, Team Leader Vet Center, McAllen, TX
"I am working at the PTSD inpatient unit at the VA hospital in Boise. Every guy who goes through the 6-week program gets a copy of your book! LIFE IS WAR helps bridge the awful gap between the teenager in the black hole of the Vietnam jungle, and the adult civilian today. Read it!" – Linda Reinberg, Ph.D., Author of In The Field: Language of the Vietnam War.
"A pithy little book of inspiration and sustenance – gutsy and sometimes as grisly as war itself." – Mike Maza, The Dallas Morning News.
"I liked it very much. It's full of growth and understanding. It's full of acceptance but not excuses." – Grace Landon, EFO Group.
"What a gift… the words, sketches, the intention, the touch of the soul."
– Jeremy Jones, Wyndmoor, PA
"For all the 'newbies' I meet daily, I give them the book. It works… My Mom reads your book and goes to meetings (PTSD) and now she's more understanding." – Jeffry L. Junkins, La Jolla, CA
"My wife, employed with the V.A. in the Women's Sexual Trauma Unit, brought home your book LIFE IS WAR and consequently I thought I'd write. My life has been a series of intense peaks and valleys since Nam ('68). I have pretty much led my life along the path you write of in your book." – David L. Cornwell, Former Member of Congress, Co-founder of the Vietnam Veterans Caucus, first Vietnam combat veteran to serve on the Veterans Affairs Committee, member of the President's Vietnam Veterans Policy Group. Indianapolis, IN
"A great book. I use many of your principles in business."
– Harvey Auger, President PHH Homequity, A Fortune 500 Corporation
"Enjoyed your book! I plan to use it in our PTSD workshops." – Steven A. Janke, Point Man International Ministries, Garfield, NJ
"As a three-tour vet who experienced some deep mental and emotional problems, all now behind me, I find your book "right on target." – Stanley "Pete" Meston, Jupiter FL
"Of everything I have read about Vietnam, nothing hit home more than what you said and how you phrased it." – Daniel L. Hobart, Moriva, NY.
"Thanks for putting in print many of my own thoughts along with those of thousands of other grunts." –Ken Fisher, Little Rock, AR.
"Lovely book, -really powerful and helpful in a lot of ways." – Anya Rosen, Seattle, WA
"Tony Anthony's account of what he learned under fire inspires us all to take control of our lives, to move forward with greater awareness and courage." John Gray, Ph.D., Author of Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.
"So many of us have been wrestling with our demons from the past in the last few years, Not to mention those of us in one kind of recovery or another. We admire your courage in discussing your issues and writing about them! It really is supportive to the rest of us who are dealing with our ‘stuff.’" Thank again for helping some of us heal our blisters!" – Dr. and Mrs. Thomas Gunne, New Haven, CT
"I was at my end when someone gifted me with your book. Now the fight is on again. I gave up, got drunk and was going to end it. Then your 'book." Damn man! I was lost, but I changed my thinking and am again moving on. I will read your book over and over and over…" – Michael Schaefer
"I come from a small town in Ohio where the word Nam is not spoken. Well I guess I held Nam inside me long enough. I loved the book and pics too. Keep doing what you do, more vets like me are out there waiting for that parade without the rain." – Michael T. Fetter, Lockland, OH
"Your book added much-needed inspiration to my journey of recovery. Semper Fi!"– Larry Turner, Formerly1st Marine, Division, Martinsburg, WV
"Thanks for putting in print many of my own thoughts!" – Ken Fisher, Little Rock, AR
"Thank you for writing LIFE IS WAR!" – Thomas N. "Tommy" Bills, formerly 3rd Marine Division, North Palm Beach, FL
"A classic!" – William Tailyor, Colonel, Royal British Marines, Retired
Thank you Stanley Thompson of Puppet Press for publishing my book "LIFE IS WAR BUT YOU CAN WIN". And thank you Lee Fleming "design genius" of Infopulse LLC for doing such a nice job with the ebook!
This was my first book. I wrote it while in therapy for PTSD with Dr. Linda Reinberg who helped countless Vietnam Vets. LIFE IS WAR became an instant success when it was purchased in bullk by Veteran's Centers and VA Hospitals around the country. But most of the readers have been civilians--not vets at all. Men and women, even young men and young women, find that the book helps them. My son Evan who's 21, says it's his favorite book.
Then Morrie Krickun, owner of Morgin Press retired so the book was never reprinted. During the ensuing years, many people have asked for the book mostly to give to friends.
Dr. John Gray, author of "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" says of LIFE IS WAR. "Tony Anthony's account of what he learned under fire inspires us all to take control of our lives, to move forward with greater awareness and courage."
You can purchase it on this web site or at puppetpress.com. Why not buy one, and tell a friend!
This morning I had the unexpected pleasure of running into my representative in Congress, Christopher Shays. We were appearing on the same news show Daytime on Channel 12 a Cablevision program hosted by Rebecca Serran and David Smith. Shays was on just before me, talking about his eight-hour visit to Baghdad. I think he was interested in talking to me because I had been there for five days.
He was full of questions for me, which I had no real answers for. My opinion is that at the moment in Iraq there is a definite communications problem. The U.S. and the Iraqis are not speaking the same language.
Shays waited until I’d finished my segment. We chatted awhile in the green room and then walked out to the parking lot together. When we reached our cars he stopped and looked me in the eye. "You know…" He began a thought which seemed like part of a train he’d been on for some time. "Does it ever seem strange to you that we are the ones in charge now?"
I told him I really wasn’t sure where he was going with this. "It used to be our parents," he continued, "but now it’s us. We’re the ones in charge."
"Oh, I see what you’re saying," I said. "Yes, I do know what you mean. It’s all up to us isn’t it?"
The most freeing feeling there is.
The opposite is true too. If we think of what is wrong with somebody, there is always an excuse to feel that good old familiar sensation of righteous hate. Sometimes it feels good to dislike.
But when I give that up, and decide only to love you for all your faults, in all your humanness, I feel way better, way lighter.
It’s so easy to love, it’s harder to love thy enemy. But, the strange thing is that when you love your enemy, you no longer HAVE an enemy. You’ve won them over because nobody can fight the power of love!
So to any and all of my enemies, and for all anybody who might have a problem with me, let me just say one thing, "I love you, Babe!"
And I really do…even if it is only because it is so much easier.