Breadcrumbs: A Collection of Spiritual and Philosophical Essays by Francis J. Shaw (ebook voice reader txt) 📖

Through the twists and turns of life, we face many dilemmas on which road to take when we encounter forks along the way. We place pressure on ourselves to make what we believe are the best decisions, and as we stumble along, worries creep in. Our energy becomes focused on what’s around the next corner or hiding in the shadows. Our perceptions blinded by what we agree to fear, lead us away from the awareness of who we truly are, to a place of unknowing, with only one conclusion we are sure about—we’re not in Kansas anymore.

It’s tempting to feel we made a mistake. Took a wrong turn or were led along the wrong trail. When something goes wrong we struggle to make sense of our experiences, and feel the need to apportion blame, most often to ourselves, to find solace. It’s easy to be miserable and find others on the path, like the lion, tin man and scarecrow who understand, because they chose to believe the same story. The solution isn’t found by seeking or fearing a wizard or a witch, but by simply reclaiming one important memory—we are here on a spiritual journey.

Once we acknowledge that truth, there is no need to focus on the destination because we already know there is no place like home, because we have been there. The key to our journeys is to recognize what we have, before we seek what we think we need. The silver shoes Dorothy wore could take her anywhere she wanted to go and she had them on since the beginning of her journey. The lion, who wanted courage, the tin man, a heart, and the scarecrow, a brain, all came to realize that they already had what they sought, and so do we.

The choice to embrace the gifts we came with changes how we approach our journey. Faith reveals there is nothing to fear behind the curtain or in the forest. The awareness that choices are not hurdles, but necessary steps for us to grow in our understanding of what we need to learn. Hope reminds us, although the road may be unfamiliar, the surroundings are not. In the majesty of towering trees and bright butterflies feeding on beautiful blooms, there are the familiar gifts of home that protect us from harm and surround us with love.

There is no need to fear on our spiritual journey for there are many roads, but it’s all one path; where we are held, supported and loved all the way. Just like so many fairy tales, the hero must enter the forest and so must we. Danger is the lesson we need to teach us trust. Perhaps, resting at a crossroads in a clearing, we will remember the heavenly kisses of protection we received before we came and those lovingly imparted by our earthly mother to carry us forward. Feeling the bright white light within, come to realize what we are here to accomplish—to trust we are already half way home and clicking our heels twice, consider—that through the forest and over the rainbow is not that far to travel after all.

The King’s Gambit

IN 1999, GARIK WEINSTEIN FOUGHT a battle against overwhelming odds. One man versus 50,000 people in 75 countries and he triumphed. Fittingly, his first name, a variant of the name Garrick, meaning spear and ruler, banished the opposition over a four-month period. No one died in the conflict—at least no deaths were reported and although some egos may have been bruised, the victory was hard fought. Garik successfully ruled his kingdom for 15 years and most of his setbacks stemmed not from the tenacity of human foes, but from the mysterious domain of binary code. The 1999 contest introduced a new complexity into a game already full of huge variables, making it perhaps, the greatest game ever played.

Importance is best viewed with hindsight, as another game launched in 1999. Led by a Jordanian, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, and adopting the black standard battle flag of Muhammad, the board is still in play. The roots of conflict are seldom as black and white as chess pieces; the goals cloaked behind rhetoric, deception, and misdirection. Interwoven in the match of 1999 and current events, is a story of a chosen people, the role of a king and rule of a kingdom. It begins, not with the nobility of achieving personal change through choice and endeavor, but with a catalyst that impacts the world we inherit from our ancestors—Garik was no exception.

He was born in Baku, Azerbaijan, to a Jewish father, whom he lost while still a child, and an Armenian mother. Prejudice is a burden many carry, driven by the roots of ancestors we have no control over. The child, Garik, faced uncertain prospects in chess, even if his light shone bright, because of a name and settled notions of heritage. The millions who left Europe for the shores of America confronted a similar problem—the desire to fit in. To be part of a new world, without baggage of past associations, whether they be race or creed, made for changes their great-grandchildren may be unaware of, even today. As the Irish, Italians, and Scandinavians desired to be seen first as Americans, so Garik sought a Russian identity. Adopting his mother’s maiden name, Gasparian, aged twelve, and modifying it into Russian, he became Garry Kasparov.

In 2007, having retired from chess and embarked on a political career seeking democratic change, he reflected on his early years. In a 2007 Interview with David Remnick from the New Yorker, he said, “When you have to fight every day from a young age, your soul can be contradicted. I never really had it. Today, I have to be careful not to become cruel, because I became a soldier too early.” There is sadness in these words. It’s the same horror encountered at the sight of young children forced to join groups such as al-Zarqawi’s, ISIL. The loss of formative years to follow a mortal king can destroy a piece of the future and limit many, sadly, to the life of a pawn. That Kasparov rose above the storm and conquered is an achievement to be recognized. There is much at stake in a battle for a king or a kingdom and religious faith is at the heart of the journey that connects chess, seekers of conquest through perceived divine guidance, and a covenant people.

It’s said, a good story has a beginning, middle, and end. Chess also has three stages—opening, middlegame, and endgame. The most popular theory places its roots in Eastern India, but the earliest evidence is located in Persia, where it became part of educating the nobility. If India birthed the concept, it was the Muslim conquest of Persia that solidified the game. It came of age under their guidance. They developed the rules and it enabled a means to test military tactics without violence. They also provided the origin of terms we use in English. Both check and chess have their roots in the Persian word, Shāh, meaning King.

As the Muslim empire expanded, the game traveled along. Filtered on trade routes, one of its first stops was Russia. A perfect companion on long, cold, winter nights, its early exposure may be one reason for the dominance enjoyed by the people from the Land of Rus. Spreading into Europe, largely through Moorish Spain, Christians embraced the game. No doubt they saw the same benefits as Muslims and inevitably when cultures and spiritual worlds collide, there are casualties and change.

Before the bishop of Christendom appeared on the board, the role was held by the elephant. In Buddhism, a symbol of mental strength, where the gray elephant symbolized an uncontrolled mind and the white, a tamed mind. As the battle for souls and territory continued, the white bishop of Rome as head of the Holy Roman Empire was seldom tame.

The piece beside the king, originally an adviser or Vizier, with limited moves, became the Queen, with powers to leap across the board. The change may have reflected medieval Europe, where the role of women had evolved. When powerful queens were not ruling in their own right, they were often a strong presence behind the reign of the king, or as daughters, married into the houses of nobility to build alliances. Despite these apparent gains, the game can continue without a Queen, but not the king, as King Henry VIII of England demonstrated on several occasions.

In 1209 the white bishop, Pope Innocent III, ordered a crusade to destroy the Cathar heresy. Within the stronghold of Béziers a mixture of Cathars and good Catholics sought shelter. Walls breached, how would they know who to kill? Arnaud Amalric, the Papal legate, allegedly uttered, ‘Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius.’ - ‘Kill them all, God will know his own.’

Although conflicts between Christians and Muslims continued, the battle for the heavenly King turned inward. Eliminating the Cathars and the Knights Templar signaled a new struggle. When Martin Luther played a bold move and pinned his 95 theses to All Saints’ Church in Wittenberg, igniting the Reformation, the Christians separated into Protestants and Catholics. The king castled—a bystander, as the people of one faith pit rook against bishop; knights charging…pawns dying. Perhaps, God no longer recognized his own.

By the age of enlightenment, the battle on the board shifted to empire building and introspective thinkers focused on invention and self-improvement. Benjamin Franklin said, “The Game of chess is not merely an idle amusement; several very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the course of human life, are to be acquired and strengthened by it, so as to become habits ready on all occasions; for life is a kind of chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competitors or adversaries to contend with, and in which there is a vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in some degree, the effect of prudence, or the want of it. By playing at chess then, we may learn foresight, circumspection, and caution.”3

As the 20th century launched, Franklin’s dream of prudence became a nightmare of terror, as the world embroiled in bitterness, lost its sense. For the Jews, persecution was the shadow relentlessly following their every move. A people, chosen by God, without a homeland, hounded by an old hate that hindered every hope of finding acceptance. When the Nazi’s told Jews they had to wear a yellow badge to identify themselves, their ancestors must have cried out in anguish. Whatever disagreements leaders and countries had with each other, they always made space to create time to persecute everybody’s common enemy and historical scapegoat.

In Europe, 1090, light and dark squares were introduced to the chess board. The crusades raged—to the Christians there were those of the true faith and dark ones, separated from the heavenly light. In 1215, Pope Innocent III declared, “Jews and Saracens (the generic term used for Muslims in the