Inspirational video

One of my caregivers shared this video with me – she said it reminded her of me. I find that I usually don't like to watch stories about others with ALS, but since this guy is a screen writer I decided to give it a look – I'm glad that I did. I'm certainly not as successful or talented as this guy, but I'm just as grateful to be alive and to have the craft of writing to keep me feeling productive. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. "... Continuing..."
http://vimeo.com/49352654

Earth Day

To honor Earth Day I offer one of my favorite chapters from the revised Dolphins Dance, second edition – hopefully published very soon.

Chapter 14: Lessons Lost

Late in the fall season of my fifth year, while Wave Rider and I were out deepwater fishing with several other smaller groups of adolescent males, we heard news that Old Scarred Flippers was ill.  Everyone knew that the patriarch was slowing down.  He had lost a noticeable amount of his blubber the past few weeks.  My mother had expressed her concern to me just the day before, saying that perhaps her brother was getting too old to make the annual trip to the northern range.

"After fishing this afternoon let's go find Old Scarred Flippers and see how he's feeling."  I clicked to Wave Rider as we sped along side-by-side after a school of fleeing squid. 

After filling our bellies with the hot blood and flesh of deep ocean delicacies, we found him at the outer reefs where he had taught us how to eat sea urchins.  He was not alone, two strong adult males kept a watchful eye on him from a distance.  For the last several months, he always had a protective escort that made sure he was safe and that he never ventured too far from the family pod.  In the last year he had become quite forgetful and often wandered off, getting lost, sometimes for several days before the anxious pod found him again. 

He greeted us cheerfully, "Good day Strong Nose and Wave Rider.  Do you remember how to select, prepare and eat sea urchins?"

"Of course we do, Uncle.  Would you like us to catch some for you?"

"Yes, that would be lovely," he said with a smile.  "These days lifting the heavy stone to break the urchins' spines is tiring and not worth the effort.  But today I have a great craving for their tasty meat."

Wave Rider dove deep to look for the appropriate type of stones, while I escorted my uncle slowly around the reef, looking for the largest and most delicious sea urchins.

"How are you feeling Uncle?"  I asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know the truth.

"I am at peace.  I will not make the trip to the northern range this year.  I will stay here where it is warm and I can enjoy calm waters." 

He stalled in the water and pointed down to our left.  "There behind the Brain Coral, where the large moray eel lives, I think I see a good catch of sea urchins.  Where is your nephew with our stones?"

A minute later Wave Rider appeared.  With two good-sized, heavy rocks in his mouth he mumbled, "Uncle, on the far side of the reef, near the sea grass meadows of the sandy bottom...I spotted what looked like a net from one of the surface vessels.  I think there were some dead turtles and other heavy objects in the net.  Should we go and investigate?"

"Let's eat first, explore later.  You must have your priorities in order Little Big Splash," our uncle said with a laugh, after intentionally calling my nephew by his childhood nickname.

We laughed with him fully and easily, understanding the special bond that we had with him.  He watched with gleeful anticipation as we smashed the heavy rocks on to the sea urchins.  We made sure the round fat bodies were clear of all spines before we presented them to him. 

Old Scarred Flippers may have been getting weaker at the ancient age of nearly thirty-six years, but his jaws were still strong and he easily crushed the sea urchin bodies to pieces.  With great relish, he expertly separated the orange and pink flesh from the urchins' hard shell.  He devoured all of the catch that we brought to him in a few short minutes.

"Now, let's see what you have found Wave Rider.  Lead the way," he said with a satisfied whistle and belch of bubbles.

As we neared the tangled net of floating objects, known and unknown, we heard shallow breathing and weak struggling.  Using echolocation, I was able to identify three large loggerhead turtles tangled in the net.  Two of them were dead, but one was still alive.  Without talking, we immediately began to pull away the net and other strange things tangled around the turtles' limp bodies.  Some of the stuff sank directly to the bottom, some floated to the surface.  Many of the objects were hard and colorful, and some were oil-soft, brown or green like kelp. 

"What is this stuff?"  I asked to no one in particular.

"It comes from the human beings.  It is their waste and they leave it everywhere they go.  Remember when I told you about the large sea of waste to the north of the Hawaiian Islands, this is what it's made of," he said as one of the dead turtles broke free and gently floated away in the coastal current. 

"This waste has no value to us.  Do not eat any of it.  It is foreign to our world and when left to rot, it sits for hundreds of years before it can be reclaimed by the ocean."

The barely alive turtle looked at us with fear as we broke the last few pieces of net holding it in the tangled pile of waste.  When free, the turtle began to struggle weakly towards the surface, but it soon gave up and began to sink to the bottom with its dead brothers.

"Push it to the surface so that it can breathe.  Then escort the turtle to the shallows where he can recover in safety," our uncle commanded us.

Without question, we carried out our uncle's orders.  The turtle was able to breathe and as we pushed it slowly towards the shallows, it gained some strength.  We left it in a protected cove with ample rocks and sea grass where it could hide.  We didn't feel any great joy or reward in helping the turtle to survive—it was natural behavior for us.  We were taught by our mothers and fathers "to respect and care for all the creatures of our world.  Do not kill for sport or out of carelessness, we kill for food only, and when we do we say a prayer of thanks."

A few days later, Old Scarred Flippers requested a small group of males and females from his immediate family to take him to the deep ocean to say farewell.  My mother, Wave Rider and I, were asked to be part of the procession.  We swam slowly and quietly keeping pace with our uncle.  He led the way confidently, knowing exactly where he wanted to go.  As he led the group, he asked us one at a time to swim with him privately.

"Do you think the turtle we helped the other day understood our intentions?"  He asked me as I swam next to him. 

It was a difficult question that I had pondered myself.  I thought carefully for a moment and then replied, "I think so.  There seemed to be some recognition in his eyes when we left him in the cove."

"All creatures in our world, the ocean and the surface world, have some intelligence and recognition of their place.  Some of course, are more intelligent than others.  Our cousins the great whales are the most intelligent of all, but intelligence is not that important for life," he told me as we swam together.

"What is important—is the connection to the universe that each creature, rock, and wave possesses.  Everything is constant and connected through the energy of our world.  With that energy, life is created and peace can be found," my uncle explained to me as we continued on towards the deepest part of our southern range.

"What happens when your energy is gone?"  I asked him, not wanting to use the word, death.

"Your physical energy is given back to the world, and your spiritual energy lives on," he ended as he gestured to me that our conversation was over. 

A short time later, we reached a place where the larger pod often went night hunting and the upwelling from the deep was cool and full of life.  Even during the brightest time of day, the sunlight only reached a few hundred feet and after that, darkness prevailed.

The procession halted and my uncle, Old Scarred Flippers, the patriarch of our family and the master of ceremonies for the larger pod, turned and faced us proudly.  There was no sound, just the quiet rhythm of the ocean.  He smiled at each one of us and said farewell with a gesture of his head and a wave of his scarred pectoral fins.  He rolled over, pointed his body vertically and powerfully started to dive into the deep. 

My mother, his younger sister and only surviving sibling, whistled sadly as he swam away.  The rest of us stayed solemnly and respectfully quiet until he faded from sight.  No one moved for a long time.  I half expected my uncle to reappear suddenly with a large squid in his mouth.  I wished that I had spent more time with the patriarch.  I lamented the untold lessons that were now lost to me.

"It's time for us to go back to the family pod and get ready for the journey north," my nephew Wave Rider said with some authority.  He was now one of the older males in our small family pod, still too young to join with the alpha males in the leadership of the larger pod, but responsible for representing us when they were not present. 

My mother nodded in agreement and we made our way home, each of us lost within his or her own thoughts and memories of the great Pacific Bottlenose dolphin that we all had loved.  I wondered what he felt as he rejoined the cosmos in the depths of our ocean.  I hoped that it was peace and joy.

"Dolphins Dance" the Final Chapter

"Dolphins Dance" is almost finished. This is the draft of the last chapter – I hope that it's not to much preaching...

A final word

 

This is the second edition of Dolphins Dance.  The story is the same, but the voice and the writing, I hope, have been greatly improved.  The words are more solidly crafted, the characters more developed, and the message, I believe, is stronger.

This second edition is self-published.  It is the only version of the story that is authorized by me.  The first edition, Dolphins' Dance (note the apostrophe), was published under contract with a vanity press publisher.  My disappointment with their pricing and services is well documented.  It took nearly four years before they would sell the rights of my book back to me.  Please don't purchase any of the original books.

I wrote the first draft of this book, five years ago, out of love and wonder for the fantastically diverse creatures of the ocean and their habitat.  I have always loved the ocean.  I have lived most of my life on islands.  I have always believed that dolphins and whales are intelligent and social animals, and that they are irrevocably connected to the life of the planet, and ultimately human kind. 

I did not have much knowledge of the dire plight these animals are facing and the cruelty that humans have inflicted upon them over the centuries.  I was not aware of the degraded condition of the world's oceans —70% of our planet.  As I floundered through the writing of the book, mixing fiction with facts, I realized that there was a possibility I would become so enamored with these animals and their ocean habitat that my perspective would become biased—it did... 

I now have even stronger feelings about the protection and conservation of our planet, the oceans and marine life.  If ALS had not altered my life, and I had not begun the therapeutic pursuit of writing, I would not have become the "bedridden environmentalist" that I am today.  I believe that if we save the ocean habitat and we protect the dolphins, whales, and all of the diverse life found in the seas and on land, we are saving ourselves.  Chief Seattle is right—we are connected to the Earth, and what we do to the environment we do to ourselves.  If we preserve and protect the oceans and all of the creatures within, we ultimately save ourselves.

It is my hope that some readers find the dolphins' story enjoyable and perhaps educational.  I hope that you will become your own brand of activist and join a movement, any movement that seeks to protect nature and our planet.  You don't have to be a radical or extremist, or a millionaire philanthropist.  Find your own level of activism.  Do what you are comfortable with, whether it is making a small donation to a nonprofit organization, "liking" an environmental cause on Facebook, or writing a letter to your government representative, just do something.  Add your voice to the growing chorus.  Tell your family and your friends how important it is to save our oceans, preserve our environment, and respect our fellow creatures on this planet.

Five years ago, while writing this book I was overwhelmed by the complexity of the issues facing us, and the planet.  I was appalled at the misuse and abuse of the oceans, watersheds, forests, and all of our precious natural resources.  Climate change was everywhere in the news.  I couldn't believe that in the 21st-century, we were still treating the Earth and the ocean as if they were inexhaustible resources—resources to be plundered and used without careful thought and focus on preservation and sustainability.  That was five years ago... Just recently, the UN produced another report on climate change in the status of the planet—things have not gotten better.

I know that often for complex problems to be resolved, clear and simple solutions have to be presented.  Many good people are offering solutions, and finally people are beginning to listen and take action.  I believe there is hope.  I am positive.  I have listened, and my action is sharing this story and distilling what I have learned into a handful of thoughts that I give below regarding the protection and conservation of our oceans and the creatures that live there.  These are my opinions only and not necessarily based upon scientific fact or data.  I'm sure there are much more qualified people to make these suggestions, and my few topics are by no means a complete list, but I present them to you honestly and freely, hoping that you or others will investigate further, and be moved to support organizations, policies and individuals that promote these ideas. 

Create Marine National Parks and conservation areas: These are sometimes called Marine Sanctuaries.  Hawaii, California, Florida, Louisiana, Massachusetts, and a few other states have marine sanctuaries.  We need more.  They make perfect sense to me—a place safe from the overfishing, pollution, and the overzealous recreation of humans.  Marine sanctuaries are set aside and protected by humans.  They are a place for the ocean and its inhabitants to heal and thrive.  They are easy to create and manage.  Please encourage your government officials, local fishermen and businesses, to create more of these sanctuaries.

Reduce the use of plastic:  We need to reduce the use of plastic, or come to a point where we recycle 100% of what we create and use.  Do not throw plastic away, recycle it.  Encourage your town, city and country to introduce recycling programs.  We need to encourage business and government to find biodegradable materials that can replace plastic.  We need to encourage everyone to recycle 100% of the plastic we use.

Reduce storm runoff and the dumping of waste into our rivers and oceans:  This means that we have to upgrade our city sewage systems.  Farmers and businesses who live up stream must realize that what they put into the soil or dump on their land, eventually flows into the ocean.  We need to plant more trees.  We need to revitalize watersheds so that they can naturally filter the water before it reaches the ocean.

Regulate international and domestic commercial fishing: Fishing and its byproducts should not injure marine life that is not being harvested.  Incidental deaths, also known as by-catch, caused by bottom trawling, long lines, and drift nets are not acceptable.  Pressure your government to regulate commercial fishing and other fishing activities that can destroy entire ecosystems or over fish species until they are extinct.  Support international fishing regulation and encourage sustainable fishing.  Only buy fish and other seafood that is harvested using sustainable fishing practices.

Dolphins and whales should not be kept in captivity:  Stop the capture and consumption of whales and dolphins throughout the world.  Only dolphins and whales born in captivity should be used for research and educational purposes.  All rescued dolphins and whales should be returned to the wild.  Encourage your government to regulate marine parks and aquariums.  If you go to marine parks or aquariums, ask where the animals come from.  Learn as much as you can about these wonderful creatures and their habitats.

You can make a difference.

RK Raker

April 2014

The Scent of Ginger – version 2

I'm pleased to announce that the second version (V2) of "The Scent of Ginger " http://www.amazon.com/The-Scent-Ginger-R-Raker/dp/1494880415/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1397860445&sr=8-1&keywords=The+scent+of+Ginger is now available on Amazon.com. Thanks to several friends who gave me detailed feedback, I was able to go back through my manuscript and make some additions and corrections. I always enjoy getting feedback – I believe it helps me to become a better writer. The story and the characters are still the same, but the reader will find the book more enjoyable with these few changes. Please check it out if you haven't already, or if you have thank you very much for your support.

Sharing some nice feedback for "The Scent of Ginger"

I finished  your book a few days ago. The second half was so captivating that I could not put it down. You have done an amazing job keeping the excitement. Great job!!! All the details you give - from the issues the natives feel about the abduction of their lands to your knowledge of high-tech gear - make the read very rich. I could see the fun you had while writing the James character basing him on your experiences, as you had him doing all those amazing things confined in his bed. It is clearly apparent you understand story and character, both natural talents one is born with. I will be writing a review at Amazon in the next few days, so keep an eye. Will let you know.

In the stillness of nothing

I received a lovely e-mail from a good friend. It sparked this short essay, which I thought I would share with you. My friend wrote:

In the stillness of nothing happening, I have thought of you.  It seems to me that communication with you is just the thing I would like to have at the moment —even if it means waiting a while to year from you. 

I responded:

Dear friend, I really like this phrase "in the stillness of nothing." Thanks for reaching out to me. I'm sorry this has to be asynchronous communication. It's definitely not as satisfying as face-to-face conversation, but it does have its advantages across the miles. Technology definitely does have its pros and cons—so goes the 21st-century.

The stillness of nothing brings forth positive and negative connotations. I hope that you are grounded in the positive concepts the phrase conjures. This is where I try to travel each day, but I often find myself slipping to the darker, negative side.

On good days, I understand that "Stillness" and "nothing" or "no thing" are desired states of mind and lifestyle choices that are often found in meditation practiced by Buddhism, Hinduism, and other religions. Disciples are taught that if you can still the mind and embrace nothing, the spirit is then not cluttered with every day issues and stuff that get in the way of finding deeper spirituality. Through meditation, there's the promise of a peaceful, calm and balanced mind—A way to get closer to God.

This sounds good to me. I would like to be able to push aside my daily struggle with ALS. I look for that deeper spirituality when I can.

Recently, I learned about a former NFL player with ALS, I forget his name, but he is quite popular these days for the good that he is trying to do, his spirituality, and his inspirational outlook on life and living with a terminal illness. He has been on national news, and CBS 60 minutes did a special on him. His thoughts are that ALS has brought a "silver lining" to his life—I'm paraphrasing quite loosely. He believes that although the disease has brought struggles and suffering, it has allowed him and others like him, to view the world differently—to embrace the stillness of his body, to be more spiritual.

I don't particularly like the phrase, silver lining, but I do see his point of view. I addressed this issue in the blog post that I shared with you several weeks ago, regarding yin and yang. If I could find his e-mail address, I would send the essay to him. I do believe that by accepting the devastation and immobilization of this disease. I have found sensitivity, abilities, and a spirituality that I would have not noticed before. This is not a new concept. The idea of finding grace through suffering has been around a long time.

I hesitate to share my negative feelings, but the stillness of nothing makes me think of the middle of the night when I wake up, and I realize I'm frozen inside my body. It's dark, it seems like nothing is there. The only light comes from a digital alarm clock on the table next to my bed and the ambient light from outside my window. Shadows play tricks on the ceiling. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, out of the corner of my eye, I imagine large cockroaches crawling across the wall. A mosquito buzzes by my ear. Fear begins to grip me.

I'm still—stillness surrounds me. I cannot move. I can't scratch that itch on my elbow, or rollover to relieve my lower back pain. My neck hurts. I can't move the pillow to the left or the right. I can't wipe the sticky drool flowing from the corner of my mouth. Blood moves slowly through my body. My feet feel swollen and numb. My breathing is labored and my heart races. I begin to feel the onset of an anxiety attack. I want to scream for my wife. To wake her up, but I don't...I know she needs the uninterrupted sleep. I tell myself it's just a dream, it will be morning soon. This works for a while, but then I realize it's not a dream or a nightmare. It's reality, my reality. Then, my mind goes to very dark and depressed places. It's quite scary. I try to not stay there very long.

"Darlin', sweetheart, darling...," I wake her up.

"Scratch, flip, water, drool," I request in the after-midnight cryptic language that we have developed.

"Yes, okay..." She answers quietly, and she brings me back from the darkness.

Happily, this dip into depression doesn't occur during the day when there are things going on around me. When I have my computer, my writing, my family, my caregivers, the television, and various distractions and activity to fill the time—when things are not still, dark, and laced with nothing, then I am quite all right. My spirit remains strong in the daylight. However, in the middle of the night, when there's nothing to fill the dark stillness except my own thoughts, that's when depression, doubt and negativity creep forward. That's when I think, "There's no silver lining in the stillness of nothing."