Save Gas Money; Save Our Planet

I have to admit I am so blessed.  Just as I was about to blow a gasket about the astronomical rise in gas prices over the past weeks, I get an e-mail at work.  I am lucky enough to work for a healthcare company that cares about its employees and the communities in which they work.  The subject line on the e-mail was "Let's Build Healthy Communities."  In the e-mail was a link to a website that gave information on how to reduce fuel consumption.  Just what I needed when gasoline prices have gone up to over $4.50 a gallon in my neighborhood. It's a great site.  Some of the tips it gave are for reducing fuel consumption are:

• Avoid vehicle trips when possible, especially for shorter distances; walk or ride a bicycle instead.
• Carpool, vanpool, or use public transportation once or twice a week.
• Improve fuel economy by:
  1) Accelerating and decelerating more slowly
  2) Driving within the speed limit
  3) Removing unnecessary weight in your car to lighten resistance
  4) Turning off the ignition when your car is standing still
  5) Maintaining proper tire pressure.
  6) Following proper maintenance of your vehicle
• Linking trips together

Sure, some of the tips are plain common sense.  But how often do we drive around the corner to the store or post office?  I don't know about you, but I am so tired of paying exorbitant prices at the pump.  I'll try just about anything to save a buck or two.  Maybe I'll even lose a few pounds by walking or bicycling a few times a week.

Farewell to Brother Jamal Ali

His death came as no surprise.  For years, cancer had coursed its awful way from his lungs to the rest of his organs.  All through surgery, chemo, radiation, Jamal fought gallantly like a wounded soldier never complaining about the toll the treatments took on his mind and body.  When he finally passed on November 4, 2011, his last breath was a sigh.  Having spent his last days sitting at his bedside, holding his hands, massaging his shoulders, whispering love songs in his ears, we all sighed, relieved that his Spirit had ascended. 

Since the disease had ravaged not only his body, but his checking account, a proper burial was never an option.  His remains would be cremated.  But where would his ashes be scattered?  We puzzled for days.  Jamal had been an avid hiker who loved to scale the heights of the Sierra Madre mountains that shoulder the San Gabrial Valley.  So in the end it was a no brainer.

Jamal was a follower of Ifa (a Yoruban religion). So, it would have been sacrilegious to even consider holding his memorial at a Christian church.  Thanks to three beautiful angels who hovered over him during his ordeal (Elaine, S. Pearl, and Hasani) arrangements were made for his Going Home Celebration to be held at KRST Unity Center of Afrakan Spiritual Science in L.A. 

On Saturday, Feb. 4, as I sat in the back pew of the Unity Center, my eyes taking in a golden ankh, Egyptian sculptures -- Afrikan symbols of life and death, I couldn't help but think how pleased Jamal would have been to have his celebration held in such a sacred circle.  Jamal was a great scholar, poet, engineer, culinary artist, jazz aficionado. And his Going Home Celebration was truly a reflection of his higher consciousness.  Gathered in the room that day were doctors, spiritual advisors, authors, engineers, astrologers, teachers, musicians who came to pay their last respects.  Hearing their music, eulogies and wise spoken words was like having a great light of consciousness radiate from a sphere.  After the ceremony in the dining hall, plates of Thai food (his favorite) were dished up and the deep thunder of a recording of his voice reading from his trilogy, "HeartFire Rendezvous", filled the room.

The next morning, Sunday, Feb. 5, (the day before what would have been his 59th birthday) the sun rose a fiery orange ball in a clear blue sky.  It couldn't have been a better day for releasing his ashes.  At about eleven a.m. seven of us (Elaine, Jean, Tchise', Hasani, Angela, John and me) caravaned through Altadena up to Chaney Trail.  We parked at the top of the hill and hiked through the forest searching for a good resting place for his ashes.

Since all the women except Angela and Tchise' are over fifty, I thought we would hike for only a short distance, but leading the pack, Elaine and Tchise' kept moving deeper and deeper into the forest.

Finally, after hiking for over a mile over steep mountain cliffs, we heard Elaine's voice, clear and strong.

"Here it is!" 

We rounded the bend and lo and behold, there it was -- a sturdy metal foot bridge crossing a  steep ravine of emerald green sloping downward to a waterfall on the other side of the hill.  Exhausted, we rested a moment in silence before Tchise' and Elaine began breaking the strings that held his precious Ifa beads.  After scattering his beads over the bridge, they climbed down the slope and sat near the dried creek bed.  We sang, prayed, laughed, cried as they scattered his ashes, which drifted like ghosts through rays of sun. 

"Farewell, Jamal," I said.

"We love you," someone else said.

Now he was truly free.  And in some ways, so were we.

Funny, how Nature has her way of communicating. As Elaine, Jean and I stood in the driveway of my house saying goodbye, Jean pointed at a tree overhanging the driveway and said, "Look at that." 

Searching in the direction in which her finger pointed, our eyes fell on a black monarch butterfly (a symbol of metamorphosis and transformation) sitting on the Y of the tree trunk.  I've seen many monarchs in my yard, but never a black one.

Jamal's trilogy, "Heartfire Rendezvous", is available through:

heartfirerendezvous.wordpress.com
amazon.com