Monday, August 31, 2015


Are tones embodied in people?  Could the same feelings which I found in that note or music be incarnated in a person?  What about love? Is love beyond the single tone? What is a conversation? The tone of a voice moving a heart?

"Mountain Folk Strong" - Fleeing the 2013 Colorado Front Range Flood - and battling "the powers that be".

COMPASSION LEADS TO FREEDOM:  "It is right to make ourselves as strong as possible, but the question is, can we really become strong without love?" -- Rudolf Steiner

We are all on the border. We are all moving from who we once were and where we have been into the future. That puts us all on the threshold, or border. We will all confront Guardians as we approach borders - a struggle is to be expected.

A remix of wisdom from the past and the present – contemporary lyrics adding a dimension to the through-line message of Steiner’s lecture.


LYRICS BY: Paul Simon, Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, The Band, Eric Clapton (“Cream”), The Beatles, The Wallflowers. Bruce Springsteen, and Tom Petty.

I am Dick Cheney’s brain. I have been in confidential discussions with the 1% of the 1% (wealthiest of the wealthy) and we have decided I will run for President if the opportunity presents itself. I have volunteered to be harvested in order to be the first cyborg-enhanced President.

     Dick said, “Over my dead body!” and we said, “Of course.” (Yuk, Yuk! And you thought Dick Cheney didn’t have a funny thought in his head!)

June 4, 1989 - CHINA - In the quintessential photo of the Tiananmen Square stand off, one man stands in front of four heavily armored tanks and he is holding two shopping bags. The tanks are real and symbolic of technologies and power systems used by Communist Party elites in China for control of their World - the earth, the economics, cultural and the rights life.
     June 4, 1989 - U.S.A - If there was a quintessential photo of the American "Tiananmen Square" stand off, it would be one woman standing in front of a series heavily armored Agro-industrial Corporate tanks holding two shopping bags.
     Perhaps in some weird reverse way, China and the U.S. consumers may both be longing for greater accountability from our power systems - Socialistic and Capitalistic. In addition, we may both be demanding freedom of speech - such as labeling GMO products - freedom of the press (in our case a press not controlled by Agro-industrial related corporations.)

© Copyright 2014, Jean W. Yeager
All Rights Reserved

Friday, August 14, 2015


     We are all on the border. We are all moving from who we once were and where we have been into the future. That puts us all on a threshold, or border.
     Between being trapped or threatened to being free.
     Between addiction and recovery.
     Between failure and success.
     Between unemployment or underemployment and meaningful work.
     Between being denied and being encouraged.
     Between illness and health.
     Between doubt and death and hope and life.
     Between being a child and growing up, or mature and dying or between death and a spiritual world.
     We are all on a border.

     Crossing borders is never easy or without confrontation. There are always Guardians for that new place we want to go and their job is to challenge us and keep us out if we are not "qualified" to be there.
     The first “guardian” – called the “Lesser Guardian” of the Border" - is ourselves. When we begin considering crossing a border, are the first one holding ourselves back or protecting us from taking serious risk is our own doubt, fear and hatred.
     “I doubt I can do this!”, “I’m afraid of what they’re going to do to me!”, or “I hate them for doing this to me!”
     First we must realize that our "problems" at the border are directly related to our likes and dislikes. To overcome this Lesser Guardian of the Border means changing ourselves inwardly. Resolving these three challenges is required before we approach the actual, outer border. The more time we spend exploring what this “guardian” likes, dislikes, and so forth, we learn about ourselves.  Border crossing “problems” are always as a result of ourselves as the problems seems to rise up to meet our shortfalls.
     Next is the Outer Guardian of the Border who is the keeper of the outer “rules” and “regulations” required by the realm which we are seeking to enter - which we are now "foreign" - (national, legal, social, health, etc.) - the Outer Guardian is an “objective” judge who looks you, your background and the situation over with a penetrating sense of discernment and wants you to prove who you are?, why are you here? and what you want?
     This is the next level of confrontation we experience on any border.

About 25 years ago, I tried to go to study at Emerson College in Sussex, England and was confronted by a Outer Guardian of the U.K. Border who looked over my documents and said “No!” to my request for “leave to enter the U.K.” and issued me deportation papers back to the U.S.
     In an instant, my hopes, dreams, self-image, months of preparation, etc. were literally crushed. The problems rose up to meet my great preparation.
There is a “Mission of Stuckness” about which I have read in “Zen And The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”. In these moments when the border has you stuck, you MUST be able to control yourself (your Lesser Guardian) and STOP. Get rid of the past hopes, thoughts, fears, emotions, dreams, plans, EVERYTHING must be crushed in order for you to be able to move into the future in a new way – maybe not your way at all.
In the Gatwick situation, the Guardian of the U.K. border overturned his deportation ruling on appeal.
If you’ve ever had such an experience of being denied at any border: national, employment, health or otherwise; by your own Lesser Guardian or an Outer Guardian, you know that you are thrown back upon yourself and it is a VERY, VERY lonely place.  This also happened to the Christ on  Golgotha. As He did, you also may have sent a prayer for help to the unseen powers you hope can help you.
     I wish that all the prayers and silent pleas for help from all who are struggling at any border – inner or outer - could be colorful and visible. That way the rest of us who, for the time being may have some emotional, intellectual or experiential band-width available, might be able to recognize the situation and at least be available to accompany those who feel so alone in their stuckness on the border. This is something we all need from one another.

© Copyright 2014 Jean W. Yeager
All Rights Reserved

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Tuesday, August 11, 2015


A remix of wisdom from the past and the present – contemporary lyrics adding a dimension to the through-line message of Steiner’s lecture.

LYRICS BY: Paul Simon, Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, The Band, Eric Clapton (“Cream”),  The Beatles, The Wallflowers. Bruce Springsteen, and Tom Petty.

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“The Boy In The Bubble”

It was a slow day
And the sun was beating
On the soldiers by the side of the road
There was a bright light
A shattering of shopwindows
The bomb in the baby carriage
Was wired to the radio

These are the days of miracle and wonder
This is the long-distance call
The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
The way we look to us all
The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby don’t cry
Don’t cry.

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Why do we need comfort, consolation in life? Because we may be sad about a number of events, or because we suffer as a result of pains that afflict us. It is natural that, at first, man reacts to pain as though he is rebelling inwardly against it. He wonders why he has to stand pain. “Why am I afflicted by this pain? Why is life not arranged for me in such a way that I don't suffer pain, that I am content?” These questions can only be answered satisfactorily on the basis of true knowledge concerning the nature of human karma, of human destiny. Why do we suffer in the world? We refer here to outer as well as to inner sufferings that arise in our psychic organization and leave us unfulfilled. Why are we met by such experiences that leave us unsatisfied? (6)

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"Redemption Song"

Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.

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By far the greater part of our pain and suffering is sought by imperfections that we have brought over from previous incarnations. Since we have these imperfections within ourselves, there is a wiser man in us than we ourselves are who chooses the road to pain and suffering. (9)
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"Gotta Serve Somebody"

You may be an ambassador to England or France
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls.

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody,
It may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody.

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It is, indeed, one of the golden rules of life that we all carry in us a wiser man than we ourselves are, a much wiser man. The one to whom we say, “I,” in ordinary life is less wise. If it was left to this less wise person in us to make a choice between pain and joy, he would undoubtedly choose the road toward joy. But the wiser man is the one who reigns in the depth of our unconscious and who remains inaccessible to ordinary consciousness. (9A)

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"The Weight"

I pulled into Nazareth, was feelin' about half past dead
I just need some place where I can lay my head
"Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?"
He just grinned and shook my hand, "no" was all he said

Take a load off, Fanny
Take a load for free
Take a load off, Fanny
And (and) (and) you put the load right on me
(You put the load right on me)

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He directs our gaze away from easy enjoyment and kindles in us a magic power that seeks the road of pain without our really knowing it. But what is meant by the words: Without really knowing it? They mean that the wiser man in us prevails over the less wise one. He always acts in such a way that our shortcomings are guided to our pains and he makes us suffer because with every inner and outer suffering we eliminate one of our faults and become transformed into something better. (9b)

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I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the Lord above for mercy, "Save me if you please."

I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by.

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Little is accomplished if one tries to understand these words theoretically. Much more can be gained when one creates sacred moments in life during which one is willing to use all one's energy in an effort to fill one's soul with the living content of such words. Ordinary life, with all its work, pressure, commotion and duties provides little chance to do so. In this setting, it is not always possible to silence the less wise man in us. But when we create a sacred moment in life, short as it may be, then we can say, “I will put aside the transitory effects of life; I will view my sufferings in such a way that I feel how the wise man in me has been attracted by them with a magic power. (10)

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Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be
There's a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, I yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go I don't know she wouldn't say
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday

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We may now move on to another step in our experience. The anthroposophist should be determined to take this other step only after he has comforted himself many times with regard to his sufferings in the way just described. The experience that may now be added consists of looking at one's joys and at everything that has occurred in life in the way of happiness. He who can face destiny without bias and as though he had himself wanted his sufferings, will find himself confronted by a strange reaction when he looks at his joy and happiness. He cannot face them in the same way that he faced his sufferings. It is easy to see how one can find comfort in suffering. He who does not believe this only has to expose himself to the experience.  (11)

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"One Headlight"

So long ago, I don't remember when
That's when they say I lost my only friend
Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
As I listened through the cemetery trees

I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn
The long broken arm of human law
Now it always seemed such a waste
She always had a pretty face
So I wondered how she hung around this place

Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

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While our pain and suffering lead us to ourselves and make us more genuinely ourselves, we develop through joy and happiness, provided that we consider them as grace, a feeling that one can only describe as being blissfully embedded in the divine forces and powers of the world. Here the only justified attitude toward happiness and joy is one of gratitude. Nobody will understand joy and happiness in the intimate hours of self-knowledge when he ascribes them to his karma. If he involves karma, he commits an error that is liable to weaken and paralyze the spiritual in him. Every thought to the effect that joy and happiness are deserved actually weakens and paralyzes us. This may be a hard fact to understand because everyone who admits that his pain is inflicted upon himself by his own individuality would obviously expect to be his own master also with regard to joy and happiness. But a simple look at life can teach us that joy and happiness have an extinguishing power. Nowhere is this extinguishing effect of joy and happiness better described than in Goethe's Faust in the words, “And thus I stagger from desire to pleasure. And in pleasure I am parched with desire.” Simple reflection upon the influence of personal enjoyment shows that inherent in it is something that makes us stagger and blots out our true being.  (13)

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"Glory Days"

I had a friend was a big baseball player
back in high school
He could throw that speedball by you
Make you look like a fool boy
Saw him the other night at this roadside bar
I was walking in, he was walking out
We went back inside sat down had a few drinks
but all he kept talking about was

Glory days well they'll pass you by
Glory days in the wink of a young girl's eye
Glory days, glory days 
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But inasmuch as we experience pain and suffering, we must recognize what man has made of the world during its evolution, which originally was a good world, and what he must contribute toward its betterment by educating himself to bear pain with purpose and energy.

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"I Won't Back Down"

Well I won't back down, no I won't back down
You could stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won't back down

Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down
Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down

Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground
And I won't back down

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Clearly this is a “generational” version. If you have interest in creating another version, let me know at and I will see if we can get it posted.  – Jean Yeager

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“FACING KARMA”,  by Rudolf Steiner, Vienna, February 8, 1912, GA 130

The specific paragraph quoted is numbered at the end of the segment.


© Copyright 2014, Jean W. Yeager

All Rights Reserved

All Lyric excerpts © Copyright the authors.

“Facing Karma”, Copyright Rudolf Steiner Archive

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A slippery double bass riff. A whining blues-harp. A backbeat, fair and lovely with its own kind of truthful spine upon which the heart of a woman could recline. Her head nods slowly in time. In time. In time with her heart and the feelings in the music. The 7th chords open the captured heart, the obligations, duties, anger at bosses, slave masters, kings and shift leaders. The rhythm moves her fingers. What is unlocked in the heart of woman, or a man, and makes the flesh respond? Something intimate. Something human. When I brush her neck and down her arm, she chills and turns with a shiver and a “don’t do that” smile. Sometimes the human touch is too much. The music, for a moment, replaces the reality in which the human spirit lives.
Once alive, kings, queens, tribal leaders, slave masters, bosses, parents, family bullies were humans with hearts and hands and heads. They “ruled” people personally. “Their” people. They had power in their hands. They angrily raged against enemies who opposed them. They struck fear in our hearts, brutalized and, betrayed. They were alive. They were the mortal face of power. Evil, strong, good or bad they were not anonymous power. They were not distant, indiscriminate. They commanded and we obeyed. You knew whose face looked out of power eyes, who wore the crown, earned or privileged.
Your labor was due to them, you worked for them day, night, round the clock, work until you dropped, no time off unless the Lord or Master took a break. Compensation? What is the compensation for obedience under threat? They gave you enough, or let you keep enough, to stay alive. Slave wages, indentured, indebted, tied, work was not freely given. Freedom did not belong to the worker. Had justice been invented. You’d never know it. Justice and rights were for the ruling class.
But, power shifted. The rights of man arose. Despots died at the hands of the common folk in uncommonly brutal ways as their despotism demanded. The king is dead. Their Power was released. Was it shared?

Kingless times and the “rights of man”. Which men? The “rule of law” made by the privileged put the privileged on the thrones. Gave the privileged the rights. Kingdoms were transformed and the once human despots operated behind corporate veils. Then science gave them economics that showed how profits were to be made. Profits, is what were the power was renamed? Power measured by profits still measured blood.  What is the cost of slave labor? Corporations joined their power with politics and freed the workers. Then workers had freedom without power. They paid the old slave wages, never enough to live on, take it or leave it. The same old nickel and dime now costs more.
Power now: dehumanized, industrialized, and corporatized. Computers, robo-calls, answering machines, media are all human-less agents of power. The same power. No specific person does me ill, but I am harmed by chains of corporate actions. Bound by chains. And, the human being has not changed. Still breathe, still bleed.
Deed are visited upon us all, and what is there to do? How can I swear vengeance for an uninspiring corporate heart? How can I make a defective product, or a chain store pay in blood? The chains have bound more, captured villages, hold communities back. Pay no taxes. Move the money to their castles. Hire few. Rob many. There once were kings who ruled our lands who could be hanged. But how in the world can vengeance be had when corporate amorality unfurls? Corporate faux-kings plot against us, inhuman faces over international lands, evil, strong, good and bad. No corporate face, no human eyes. Anonymous power in thrall o’re the world.
Corporate strategies are not about virtues, only what can be measured in quarterly profits. Outsource every expense. Damn the quality, cut the costs. Offload all responsibility, to whom? People? Let the people pay for toxic waste. Let individual residents, citizens – the humans in a place - pay to clean up what corporations leave behind. That’s just the cost of having corporate jobs! Corporate adultery? Of course, undulating behind the corporate veil with legislatures. Corporate sentimentality? None. Love? Compassion? Musicality? Not possible. Not human! What reigns in the heart of a corporation? Fear of being found out for the crime. But, even then, the individual corporate leaders are protected by the law. Let me go bankrupt and someone else pays. Golden parachutes.  Hidden.

The slippery double-bass riff, the whining blues-harp. The backbeat, fair and lovely, a truthful spine upon which the heart can recline is the product of a human group not motivated by economic opportunism. Our community can be that band blowing sweet. A band, restauranteur, gardener, shop keeper, barber, bookkeeper, carpenter, handy man, the self-employed, the healer, the farmers markets; independently outside the secret hand of Adam Smith, not buying into corporate greed, seeking only to meet our local need. Not hidden by corporate veils. Not anonymous. You know them. Creators of the family’s 7th chords which open, open so much, open the corporate-minimum wage doors, unlock the corporate chains and chain stores that otherwise bind our hearts, hands and brains. Makes life livable for the human spirit here, and competes against the anonymous corporate slaver selling cheap because he’s stolen from another over there.
Hubris, power, anonymity, and greed are what the corporate Board must feed. But the human-sized, the locally based mom’n’pops operate on things called virtues, human values, remember those?  That’s what binds us to us and us to them. Do unto others. Golden Rules. Corporations suck capital from our local lands and feed giant banks in banking centers where conglomerates amass riches to fund bigger projects, create bigger profits, bigger waste, bigger collapses. Too big to fail. What a threat? As if we don’t already have hard times. Hard scrabble. Hard luck.  Really? The bigs needs the bigs and the bigs crush the littles and ignore the locals.
We have collisions of the moral and the amoral. Friction of self-interest. How can a company have morals without a conscience or a soul? In the confluence of the grocery store we see the battle waging. The bankers, the morbid profiteers, the bigs versus the locals. Let’s choose human-sized. Let’s choose the local. Let’s choose the eyes into which we can look. Those who leave their capital locally, in local banks, to pay local workers, fairly, not minimum, another motive – not only about profit.

© Copyright 2015, Jean W. Yeager
All rights Reserved