Stories of Love and Courage:
Same Saesing, US Navy
Story by Stephen W Emerick PhD
The man you see pictured above is Same Saesing of the US Navy. And he is my brother. Just how he became my brother (and I became his) is an incredible story. I will from time-to-time post aspects of that story.
My father was the first Chairman of the Board of Habitat for Humanity. His love for others always came through, and this story is no different…well, except it is. During the Viet Nam War my father formed a committee to bring refugees from Laos, Thailand, and Viet Nam…to the United States. The man you see pictured above was five years old at the time. He and his family had fled Laos and crossed the Mekong River on a long and harrowing journey. They ended up in a refugee camp and got on a list of families seeking to go to America.
This is a story of the recognition of suffering and the journey to manifest the possibility of liberation, even in the time of war. It is a story of a small group of people who followed their individual hearts and found “like a caring mother holding and guarding the life of her only child, so with a boundless heart of loving kindness” they held themselves and all beings as “beloved children”.
Just as was done by the Buddha.
Stay tuned for more!
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Little did Samuel know that one day years later, now living in a retirement center, and his wife Patsy in the memory unit with dementia, that Same would visit Samuel to thank him in person.
Same showed up at Southport Retirement facility in Port Charlotte, Florida, the very town in which the Saesing family landed after their fleeing Thailand. Same was smartly dressed in his US Navy uniform and surprised Samuel. They had lunch together, Father and son. Son and father. If you asked Reverend Emerick how it could be he called Same his son, or how Samae called Samuel father, he would say: “There are no coincidences in life. This is how the God of the Universe works.”
The Feather Dance
This is my grandson, Maxwell. Age 9 and much more. His visit here was wonderful. And that included a dance he learned this year at Drumming on the Hudson in New York city. He learned the Feather Dance. A Sacred Feather (not to be shown) is placed in a sacred bundle and placed sitting vertically within the bundle. The feather does not touch the ground, as the medicine bundle holds it. When the drumming starts, Maxwell dances, and the dancer is directed to pick up the feather as he dances…however, he may not use his legs, feet, hands, or arms to grasp the feather…
What you see above is Maxwell focusing on the lodge, fire, music, the cairn, and the flag-draped entry to the lodge. Then you see him, full of assurance, turn and head towards where he will dance, and yes, he can bend over so far; he picks the feather up with his mouth!
In celebration, the men enter the lodge…Maxwell first, then his father Geoffry Enriquez, and then me/grandfather. We spend time telling him how much he is loved and what his father and grandfather hope for him. Then, held within a red velvet bag, Grandfather gifts Maxwell an Alpaca robe with a wolf woven within its fibers…gifting, to be worn whenever he needs to remember this day.
Embodied gratitude – Is it possible to feel gratitude?
By Shawna Emerick
How can I feel gratitude? What would it be like to be in embodied gratitude?*
These are beautiful questions that I was inspired to contemplate. What follows is what flowed through me when I paused to wonder…
*Note: The questions came from an incredible ‘Sunday Morning Special’ dharma discussion around gratitude. If you want to be a part of these discussions, please join myself and Patrick Heffernan inside our online yoga immersive platform called “Journey to the Peak”! Try it for 2 weeks free, just click here!)
I believe I have experienced embodied gratitude. It evokes a memory of being in Thailand and traveling solo as a young woman who was eager to continue to learn the ancient practice of Thai massage in its country of origin!
I had just landed in the north, Chiang Mai, and had only secured my first night in a hostel, open to possibilities! The scents of the famous street market were so robust. The sweetness of the lychee was so mouth-watering. The colors of the skirts were vibrant yellows, oranges, and reds, accented with small ribbons of gold that completely captured my heart. The smell of the deep colored teak wood in its beautifully carved embodiments were breathtaking. The sounds of street musicians playing their traditional music was so moving. I felt so alive!
Continue reading on ShawnaEmerick.com
The Story of Mr. Reecie and his sudden death, and his eternal love.
I am working outside with my beloved Reecie, a rescue dog who had been with us for 15 years. My wife had fallen and broken her leg three weeks before, and I heard her call for help from the back door. I turned to go toward her voice when I hear a terrifying cry of pain from my Mr. Reecie. His voice vibrated with suffering.
I find it interesting how in the hearing of certain sounds the heart automatically prepares us for grief.
Mr. Reecie
Reecie had never in all our years gone near the fire pit that is ringed with stones and a hill of dirt. But there he is, writhing in pain in the embers. How he got in there I do not know. My beloved Reecie, who would sleep with us, cuddle, play, nap, eat, and drink of sacred waters, was burning.
Living with the Disciples
Following the will of God
by Stephen W Emerick PhD
Following the Arc of the Star of Bethlehem is a lot easier if you already have a disciple you know. It is a clearer path that is illuminated by their example, behaviors, and love. And so it was that I followed him. And the others, seen and unseen. Ever present since my birth and my earliest companions. Disciples taught me how to follow God’s will by following the Arc of the Star of Bethlehem. To this day I have continued traveling with them. And I found the Arc illuminating my path all the way to the continent of Africa.
I grew up following a disciple of Christ, whom I knew as “Dad”. Now I am standing on the earth in a place called the Democratic Republic of the Congo that was formerly known as Zaire. While it is called a Democracy, when I was there it was controlled by Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu wa za Banga, a Congolese politician and military officer who was the president of Zaire from 1965 to 1997. A dictator, during the time of our visit. I learned then that disciples of Christ go places most would prefer to avoid. But Habitat was one of those organizations that would go almost anywhere in the name of Christ, and my father was that kind of disciple.
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