Capital Spirit

In May of 2005, I attended a seminar by The Reconnection, a system of alternative healing. There’s a link to them under “Other Sites of Interest”, but nobody ever clicks it. It got brought up on the Capitals message boards, and naturally, the skeptics had their usual field day with the whole thing. Given the general nastiness of the boards, I expected no less, and the boards didn’t disappoint.

Having skills in alternative healing can be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it’s truly a blessing to be able to bring Light into people’s lives. But if you’re like me and have a bit of a save-the-world complex, it can be somewhat of a burden. One reason I’ve pretty much beaten my news addiction was that I kept seeing so much suffering, and, in 10 of Wands fashion, kept taking all those burdens on myself. Not long after the seminar, I very seriously kicked around the idea of picking up an emergency scanner–police, fire, EMS–so I could monitor the emergency frequencies and send healing to those that needed it. I haven’t written that idea off completely, but the $500 price tag on a good trunking scanner is a bit of a disincentive on that idea.

I lost my father to cancer last year, and it took me several months–and a lot of talkings-to by several senior angels–to allay my guilt. That I had done all I could, that it had been of some benefit, that no one lives forever, that it really had been Dad’s time–you know, the basic stuff–I would hear none of it. All that mattered to me was the result. I couldn’t save my own father–how good a healer could I possibly be? After a couple of months of going back and forth with more familiar angels, Azrael finally showed up.

Azrael is the angel of death, and I’d done my best to stay out of his way. Same reason most people have, I should think: they think meeting him means it’s time to go, and that he’s really, really scary. (Grim Reaper sterotype, etc.) Well, I’m still here, for one thing, and as it turns out, Azrael is one of the gentlest angels I’ve ever worked with. He let me know, gently but firmly, that Dad left at the right time, and that that was not a failure of healing. If anything, it was for the best: Dad’s now healthy, happy, and full of life, and not wasting away in a hospital bed. It was an emotional conversation, but it set me straight about my father’s passing.

But some people never learn, and last time I looked, I am part of the group “some people.” Right now, there are about half a dozen Capitals on the shelf with various injuries, and, once again, I’m blaming myself. Why? Well, for one thing, it would be very, very easy for me to send healing energy to the Caps as a team, even without being present. I know how to do distance healings, and it would be very easy for me to do a distance session that’s intended for the entire team. So it wouldn’t be complicated or burdensome: if anything, it would benefit me, as well. But I’m not about to do this against the team’s wishes, and I hesitate to ask. I know I’m welcome as a fan, but as a healer? Even at a distance? I doubt it.

So I keep watching the Caps play, and playing well despite the injuries. And I know quite well that, even if I did do distance sessions for the team as a whole, that it wouldn’t necessarily bring anyone back any sooner. But, as a healer, I still wonder sometimes what would happen if I did do distance work for the team. So, there’s that. Then there’s this: with all the Caps have given me in these last three years and change, I want to do all I can to help.

Maybe it won’t make any difference to the team’s health. That’s fine. At least I’ll have done what I could. But not doing anything, even when perhaps I could, is troubling.

With all the injuries the Caps have right now, I’m twice burdened–both as a fan, and as a healer. Maybe I could make a difference; maybe I can’t. But right now, I don’t even dare to try, because I’m not sure it would be accepted, and I don’t even have the courage to ask. The best I can do is what I’m doing right now. And yet, I still wish that I could do more.

CAPITAL SPIRIT
TWICE BURDENED

Marybeth Hicks had a thought-provoking column in a recent Washington Times. Give that link a click, and read all the way through the column: the rest of this post assumes that you’ve read it. I’ll wait right here until you get back.

Read it? OK, onwards.

Like Ms. Hicks, in years gone by, I would have been the first to bah-humbug about Christmas decorations coming out earlier and earlier every year. And also like Ms. Hicks, I’m done complaining about it. I was seeing a few peeks of Christmas decor before the end of October, and quite frankly, I was happy to see them. There are several reasons for that.

Let me get the goofy one out of the way first. Humor me here–it gets more down-to-earth (literally) after I’m done with this one. I’ve already said elsewhere that I don’t like Halloween: at best, it’s a celebration of the macabre, at worst, it’s an elevation of the demonic. October is the one month of the year when Darkness gets a pass, if not an outright celebration. And from what I’ve experienced when it comes to the Darkness, it doesn’t need any more help than it already gets. Take it from someone who’s been there, and has the spiritual scars to prove it: you don’t want to help the Darkness. Ever. There is enough negativity, enough Darkness, enough–I’ll say it–evil in this world, that we don’t need to be encouraging it by giving October over to skeletons, ghouls, vampires, and assorted creepy-crawlies. So if Christmas decorations start fighting with Halloween decorations in October, more power to ‘em: Darkness won’t then have a monopoly on the month of October.

Now, about those bus ads. It is fallacious to humanize Christmas. You can’t banish God from Christmas without demolishing the whole meaning of the observance. Being good for goodness’ sake is not the reason for the season. Because, in the end, who gets to say what’s “good” and what’s “evil”? If God doesn’t exist, then who or what, and I want names, is the final authority on goodness?

Let me put this in hockey terms. I live in Washington, and I’m a fan of the Capitals. (Duh.) Being a good fan of the Caps, that means there are teams I don’t much like: the Sabres, the Penguins, the Flyers, the Hurricanes, you get the idea. In the world of Capitals fans, Caps=good, and, let’s pick one team, Penguins=evil. But Pittsburgh fans obviously don’t see the world that way. Now, sports fandom really is a matter of personal preference, and there really isn’t a moral dimension to what team you root for. But if there were a moral dimension, who would have the final say on which of the two teams were “good” and “evil”?

And real life does have a lot of moral questions that need to have some authoritative answer to them. Take murder: most Westerners would tell you that killing another human being is always wrong. Yet there are some in the world today who genuinely believe that killing another human being is sometimes justifiable. Who’s right, and who says so?

What about stealing? Consider the Artful Dodger’s words in “Oliver Twist”: “If you don’t take pocket-handkerchers and watches, some other cove will; so that the coves that lost ‘em will be all the worse, and you’ll be all the worse too and nobody half a ha’p'orth the better, except the chaps wot gets them–and you’ve just as good a right to them as they have.” Yet, “the coves that lost ‘em” would certainly maintain that it’s wrong to steal their watches. Who’s right, and who says so?

Is it always wrong to cheat on your spouse? Is it always wrong to lie? Opinions differ. Who’s right, and who says so?

“Being good for goodness’ sake” inevitably means different things to different people. How, exactly, do you define “being good for goodness’ sake”, and who, and again I want names, is the authority for that definition?

To those that would name themselves as the final authority on “being good,” I have a question by way of sincere inquiry. If you are your own final authority on “being good,” how do you respond when someone who is their own final authority has a completely opposite view on the meaning of “being good?” Who is right in that situation, and why?

“Being good for goodness’ sake” is not enough. It’s too vague. What does it mean, in practical terms? Why does it mean that? By whose authority? And where, exactly, did they get that authority?

Just asking, because I genuinely don’t know.

I remember an old video game called “Actraiser.” Some of you might have played it, I don’t know. For those of you who didn’t, in the game, you played a God-like being called “The Master”, and your objective is to fight evil on one hand, and get your people to advance as a civilization on the other. Think of Sid Meier’s “Civilization” mixed with a platform game, and you’re on the right track. I have to give a spoiler here, but there’s no way to avoid it. At the end of the game, after you’ve finally defeated all the forces of evil, and after you’ve advanced your people as far as you possibly could, you go into the temple and find…nobody there. The people haven’t had to face evil, and they’ve advanced so far that they think they can make it on their own. We don’t have to worry about evil, and we have all this fancy technology…why do we need The Master anymore?

That is so, so spot-on for the times we live in. Panem et circenses, as Juvenal put it. We are incredibly blessed here in the United States: for most Americans, most basic needs are easily covered, which frees us up for other pursuits. What are we doing with those blessings? On the one hand, America is one of the most generous countries on Earth, both on an individual and a societal level. But on the other, we do seem to be heading for the end of Actraiser: so blessed that we end up dismissing God.

So, if Christmas decorations are coming out around town–and I see more of them by the day–then bring ‘em on. My Trans-Siberian Orchestra tickets have just shipped out, and I’ll be seeing them on the 14th. I’m not to the point of “need a little Christmas right this very minute” yet, but I will be hauling out my tree pretty soon. It’s an artificial tree that’s pre-lit with white lights, and the only thing I add to it are even more lights–colored ones. It’s essentially a tree of nothing but light, and I love having it up in season. Decorating it is a major pain in the neck…and arms, and shoulders. There are so many wires that it’s ridiculous. But the end result is something to see.

I agree with Hicks’s conclusion that we need all the Christmas we can get. I’m reminded of a lyric by Trans-Siberian Orchestra: “If you want to arrange it, this world you can change it, if we could somehow make this Christmas thing last.” Christmas has a magic to it that has inspired people for centuries.

“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”–John 1:14, NRSV

It doesn’t get any more magical than that, folks.

So as we celebrate Thanksgiving later this week, and officially begin the Christmas season, I want to wish my readers all the joys of the season.

Here’s to giving thanks to God for all the blessings we hold so dear. Here’s to family, no matter how imprefect it may be. Here’s to friends, those kindred souls who stay by our sides out of no other reason than love. Here’s to life, that greatest blessing of them all. Here’s to love, to being able to receive it, and more importantly, to being able to give it. Here’s to liberty, and having the freedom to enjoy it all.

And finally, here’s to dirty dishes! Wait a minute, what…?

Thank God for dirty dishes;
They have a tale to tell.
While others may go hungry,
We’re eating very well.
With home, and health, and happiness,
We shouldn’t have to fuss;
For, by this stack of evidence,
God’s very good to us.
–Author unknown

In case I don’t get to post between now and Thursday, you all have a happy Thanksgiving. And it’s not too early to say it, I don’t think: Merry Christmas.

Because it really is the season, now more than ever.

CAPITAL SPIRIT
BLESSINGS TO YOU

This will be Post #100 for me, and I can think of no better way to roll over the odometer than to recount all my instant reactions to my night in the owner’s box.

Mom and I got to Verizon Center around 4:30 for the Caps Fan Club meeting. That was fun–George McPhee came in for his annual grilling and endured it quite nicely. Given how little of his thinking he puts out on the record, I’d hate to play poker with the guy, and I was tempted to ask him what his biggest win has ever been at the poker table. There were a couple of fairly heavy questions–one about Brian Pothier, the other about Alexei Cherapanov–that got a little awkward, and that might have been a good question to lighten up the room. Those were more than a little somber. The rest was mostly respectful shop talk about various players and deals swung in seasons gone by.

From there, Mom and I went straight down to the Owner’s Box. We were the first ones there, and I remember being absolutely blown away by the place. There’s a recliner in there for Abe Polin, and not even Ted himself gets to sit in that one, I’m told. Couches, padded table, bar and stools, an intimidating (to me) table of hors d’ourves, programs, DETAILED game notes…to an upper-concourse fan, the place is awe-inspiring. I could only drink Diet Coke up until the first intermission–I was so humbled by the place that my stomach would probably have rebelled had I fed it solid food. More guests arrived, and I think there were eventually something like three dozen people in the box, most of whose names escaped me.

I had brought with me two different “thank-you” items for Ted: the brand-new DVD re-issue of the movie “Baraka,” and two of my spinner balls from last year (and I’ll get to those in a moment.) Ted initially wanted to send the spinners home with me after the game, and wait for the ones I had ordered, but I insisted he keep the ones I had brought with me (they almost left with someone else at the end of the night, but that’s another story.) Given how special those two spinners were, I’m surprised I didn’t break down–more on that in a minute, I’m trying to remember the “wow” stuff and get it down before I forget.

At the first intermission, everyone in the box went down to the suite’s dining room. (Private elevator–man, I was out of my depth on THAT one.) Dinner was delicious–penne with vodka sauce, I think, and some bowtie pasta primavera that settled well, stayed put, and got rid of the butterflies for the balance of the night. (Although I could only be so at ease with Dick Patrick sitting at the next table over.)

Second intermission was mingling and saying hi. I talked to Dick Patrick, who said he’s seen my light show (current issue) before, and thanked me for coming out. I frantically waved Mom over and introduced her to one of the most famous families in hockey. Mr. Patrick quipped that when they renamed the NHL’s divisions geographically, he was wondering how he’d ever explain to his kids why he was changing the family name to Atlantic. I thought that was funny, but I can’t remember whether or not I laughed: the sheer scope of that joke reminded me of my place. It wasn’t meant as a put-down, I didn’t take it that way, and I don’t want to give you the impression that it was. It was just very humbling to be in the presence of someone who could actually tell a joke of that magnitude.

A couple of other random memories I want to record: the suite has a private powder room, and on the wall behind the commode, there’s a large collage of great moments that have taken place in Verizon Center. For so many great moments to be enshrined in a powder room, of all places, was quirky. And on the wall as you come in, there’s an enlarged story from the Post from several years back–I want to say 1998, when the Caps were making their Cup Finals run. I didn’t read it all, but I remember Olie’s picture was in there. And doesn’t time just fly?

Ted sat next to me a couple of times, and was cheering just as enthusiastically as any serious fan would. He really is a fan first, and we Caps fans are extremely lucky to have him as an owner. I didn’t–check that, I couldn’t–say much, and I pretty much kept my eyes on the game. I wasn’t trying to be anti-social or ungrateful, and I really hope Ted didn’t get that impression. But if I had tried to hold an in-depth conversation with him, my nerves would have eventually gotten the better of me. True, there was a game to watch, and that was some security right there: the familiar, if unpredictable, ebb and flow of skating, passing, shooting, and scoring. But the rest of the night was just so far beyond anything I could have expected. It was a tremendous privilege; it was an extreme honor; and I want to give Ted a very public “Thank you!!!” for inviting me to share such a wonderful game in such unforgettable fashion. This is a night I will cherish for as long as I shall live. Ted, thank you, and God bless. I wish I knew how to say more than that, but alas, I do not. I hope that a sincere and grateful “Thank You” will suffice.

As to the spinner balls I brought with me, there’s a story behind those. I bought those in the middle of last season. I want to say early January at the latest, but it may have been earlier. There are a lot of important moments, both for the Capitals and for me personally, that those spinners were there to light up. Those spinners were the ones that shone down upon Olie Kolzig’s final home game in a Washington sweater. Those spinners were lit to celebrate Alex Ovechkin’s 65th goal. That magical run down the stretch last year, when every game was a must-win–those spinners were there for all of it. And when the season was over, and the Capitals completed the most historic comeback in NHL history, those were the lights that celebrated that victorious moment–a magnificent moment that had been four months and change in the making. Alas, they have known defeat: they were there for all four home games of the playoffs last year, including that heartbreaking moment when it all came to such a catastrophic end. And tonight was the first time those spinners returned to Verizon Center. As for me personally, those spinners were the ones that I brought to the Rangers’ last visit to Washington–which was the game during which they filmed the Superfan segment on me. Those were also the exact spinners I was holding in that picture of me that ended up on DC Sports Bog.

Those spinners served me well; I can only hope that they served the team anywhere near as well in my hands. Ted, they’re in your hands now; and I hope and pray that they may serve you just as well as they served me. Be blessed.

As to the game itself–wow. 2-0 after two periods, and then all of a sudden, it was 2-1. Ted had said that I would never get invited back if the Caps lost tonight’s game, so as you can imagine, I was quite the basket case when that late penalty got called in the third, giving the Rangers a 6-on-4 power play. The penalty kill worked, however, and merely nine seconds removed from the sin bin, Alexander Semin golfed it down the rink towards the empty cage, and booked the insurance marker with six seconds remaining. It was a spectacular ending to a night that was already filled with memories to last a lifetime.

Anyway, it is now quarter to one in the morning, and if I don’t get to bed, I will have nothing left for tomorrow. Good night, folks–see you at the Phone Booth on Monday night.

CAPITAL SPIRIT
ETERNALLY GRATEFUL

Yesterday, I took a look back at October, and today, I’m going to take a look forward at November. You regulars will know the drill by now, so I’ll spare you the pointless jibberjabber.

Deck: Tarot of the Angels (Scarabeo)
Spread: Celtic Cross
Question: “What does November 2008 hold for the Washington Capitals?”

First impression: Not a lot of good news here. In fact, a lot of this looks just plain bad. But if it’s any consolation, some of this could have been much, much worse. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being “a minor setback” and 10 being “that’s it, season over, we’re playing out the string and it’s not even Christmas yet”, this is about a 4 or a 5. There are a couple of bad-news cards here which have been softened by reversal, so this isn’t a horrible outlook. But what concerns me in no small regard is the complete lack of Earth energy on this layout. There are no Pentacles to be seen, and the 3 Majors here are two Fire and one Air. And there’s only one Swords card out there, leaving a distribution of 4-4-2-0, which I’ll comment on at the end. What I see here is a warning against imbalance, and signs of trouble ahead.

BASIS: 8 OF SWORDS. The 8 of Swords is a card of interference, of constraint, of not being able to accomplish what you hope. The image here is of a woman tied up and blindfolded in a barren place, with eight swords thrust into the ground all around her. Two putti are starting to free her: one is untying the rope that binds her, the other is removing her blindfold. That lends a slightly optimistic note to a very challenging card: even though you are constrained right now, help is on the way. Just don’t struggle against it. As the Basis card, the 8 of Swords speaks to being in a place you don’t want to be, and seemingly trapped in unfavorable circumstances. Despite that, this card portends Divine assistance right by your side–if you’re willing to accept it. So even though 5-3-1 isn’t quite where the Caps wanted to be right now, Divine help is available, if they care to accept it.

CROSSING: VIII, STRENGTH (Element: Fire) (A housekeeping comment: starting with this entry, I’m going to try to make a habit of giving the numbers of the Major Arcana.) Based on the rest of the layout, I’m going to interpret this in a way I don’t often do. This is something that looks good, but which should still be avoided, and you’ll understand why I take that line of interpretation as the rest of this unfolds. Strength has to do with overcoming everything by sheer force of will. Go ahead and silence that lion, because the power to do so is all yours. You have the power to overcome any obstacle in your path, so carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe everything-em. So why avoid that? Because for one thing, it may in fact be illusory: the strength may be false, and if you overplay your hand, you’re going to get burned. Consider an example from the poker table: it’s the very first hand of a tournament, you’re in middle position, and you get dealt pocket kings. Wow, great start! You decide to flat-call your way to the flop, and make sure no one chasing an Ace gets lucky on the first hand. You’re the second of four players that see the flop. The flop comes 9-7-2 rainbow, and the guy in front of you checks. You bet the pot, hoping to take it right there. The players behind you fold, and the guy up front calls. Turn is a queen: he checks, you bet the pot, he calls. River is another rag, and the board is uncoordinated and offsuit. Suddenly, the guy up front bets the pot. You assume your kings are good, call, and are stunned when the guy turns over Sunset Strip and busts your pocket cowboys with a set of mullets. Your kings were dead on the flop, you overplayed them, and got burned. Good luck climbing back into this tourney. Yes, that did happen to me once, and I actually ended up recovering and finishing in the money. But that’s what happens when you embrace strength that’s not true, which is what this seems to be, given the rest of the layout and its position within it.

DISTANT PAST: KNAVE OF CHALICES REVERSED. If this is a player, they have two years or less at the NHL level, and may be in the minors. They have a watery, emotional element to their game, but they have trouble using that emotion productively. They are prone to taking stupid penalties when they’re agitated, and could drop the mitts–and get their clock cleaned–at exactly the wrong time. The good news is, this player is in the distant past. The bad news is, they’re still in the picture. And given everything else, they could be a factor in some of the more challenging cards I see coming up. This could also indicate a bad emotional beginning of some kind. Perhaps this may be a reference to the Opening Night hairball in Atlanta. If so, then perhaps that Thanksgiving Eve date we have against the Thrashers may be one to circle on your calendars.

RECENT PAST: XI, JUSTICE (Element: Air) The key concept here is “Decisions, decisions,” and when Justice is face-up in this position, that usually means good decisions have been made by the people who need to make them. Now, that is in the past, so I’m not sure that correct decisions are going to be the order of the day going forward. But this is an acknowledgement that good decisions have been made in the recent past, and those will work to the advantage of the Caps in November. And they’re going to need all the help they can get. Here’s where the bad news kicks in…

GENERAL DIRECTION: 10 OF WANDS REVERSED. The 10 of Wands is about oppression, about being burdened with too much of a good thing. Reversed, it’s not much better: you’re actually taking others’ burdens on yourself, and stressing yourself out as a result. There’s jealousy. There’s treachery. There’s deceit. The road ahead is hard. You can’t really do much with the stress–it’s there regardless of which way the 10 falls–but you CAN double-check to make sure everything is all wool and a yard wide. I want to say beware of trades that look too good on paper, but I just can’t believe the Caps would be making trades in only the second month of the season. Watch out for sneaky play by the other team. Essentially, know that it’s going to be a stressful month, but be aware that there will be some deception in your path, as well.

IMMEDIATE FUTURE: KING OF CHALICES REVERSED. That’s cute. We put one case of bad emotions in the rearview mirror, and all of a sudden, here’s another one coming down the pike. If it’s a player, he has 10 or more years of NHL experience, and is emotional to a fault. I’m thinking, however, that this may indicate something concluding in a very emotional, and challenging, way, which will have a significant impact on the next few games. I’m not sure what that is, and I want my impression here to be wrong. I will not disclose what I’m getting here–I don’t want to be accused of anything.

QUERANT: 6 OF WANDS. A good day’s work, and now it’s time to come home and celebrate. That’s the general message of the 6 of Wands. Well done! Good job! Here’s a good home-cooked dinner, and afterwards, don’t forget the regulars are coming over for poker night, so make sure… (You get the idea.) Right now, the Caps did a decent (not great) job in October, and have been given a slow stretch of schedule to rest and heal up. They need to make good use of it, because the rest of the news here is really, really challenging.

OUTSIDE INFLUENCES: 5 OF CHALICES REVERSED. When face-up, the 5 of Chalices is an emotional loss. Reversed, it’s still not exactly good news, but it does soften the blow a bit. Instead of an emotional loss, it’s more like “worry, worry, worry,” with a little bit of bad luck thrown in for good measure. It’s not something you want to see, but it could be worse. There may be some off-the-ice concerns that end up affecting the team as a whole. This is strengthening the impression I got with that reversed King a couple of cards ago, but again, I’m going to keep what I’m seeing to myself. If I’m wrong on this, I don’t want to have given bad information; and if I’m right, I don’t want to be blamed for causing it. Moving on…

HOPES AND FEARS: 9 OF CHALICES REVERSED. The warning here is one against complacency, vanity, and failure to recognize faults. October was hit-or-miss, and November looks like it could be a lot more misses than hits. And since the Caps are currently 8th in the conference, that’s bad. Really bad. The warning here is to shut your mouth and let your game do the talking. I know Alex Semin has been all over Home Ice the last couple of days with his comments about Sidney Crosby, but this applies to everyone in the room: don’t give anyone any more ammunition than necessary. Play the game on the ice, not in the press.

OUTCOME: XVI, THE TOWER REVERSED. (Element: Fire) The only way this could have been worse would have been if this had been face-up. As is, this is still bad news. It’s not exactly Mass Hysteria time, but it does signal a negative outcome. With all else I see here on the layout, I have to predict more losses than wins, and hope to God I’m wrong. If there’s any silver lining to this, it’s that after the Tower comes down, there’s usually a new beginning, and you start the next chapter of your life older and wiser. So even though it looks like November may be a bad month overall, there is a very slight hint that things may look up in December.

DISTRIBUTION: Fire 4, Water 4, Air 2, Earth 0, Majors 3. The number of Majors isn’t remarkable: 2 or 3 is about what you’d expect on a ten-card spread. The imbalance is in the elements present: no Earth energy at all, Air less than it could be, and Fire and Water both above normal at 4 cards apiece. Fire and Water is a very, very volatile mix. Fire turns water to steam; water puts fire out. When that’s not countered by a moderating force, it can mean a lot of trouble if it’s not harnessed properly. It’s going to be a very explosive month for the Caps, with a lot of ups and downs, but it looks like it will be more downs than ups. I really want to be wrong here, but it looks, by all accounts, like we’re not going to be at our best in November.

Our first test is in less than an hour, as we square off with Buffalo. Here we go…

CAPITAL SPIRIT
NOVEMBER BEGINS NOW