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Christmas Trees, Paganism and Messages from Angels

Christmas trees have their origin in paganism. The Christmas tree tradition emerged from the “sacred trees” of Northern European mythology such as “Yggdrasil,” the giant ash tree at the center of the Norse cosmos that holds all the worlds in its roots and branches.

Some people believe that trees have a unique life force of their own. In the book, The Hidden Life of Trees, the author, Peter Wohlleben summarizes the complexity of arboreal life: Trees communicate, feel pain, form complex communities, create microclimates, seem to have individual agency and are even known to keep relatives alive that can no longer feed themselves.

Some of the first tribes to occupy the North American continent add a spiritual dimension to the hidden characteristics of trees … they believe trees pray. Mary Siisip Geniusz, the author of the book, “Plants Have So Much to Give Us, All We Have to Do is Ask” explains that in the Anishinaabe tribe of North America, the balsam tree is named Ingiigido’aag, meaning, “She Stands at Prayer for Us.”

To the Anishinaabe, the tree’s beautiful fragrance is her prayer. The tree, from this perspective, is not merely a symbol but a being that enacts the effect we all notice: Families and communities uniting in the presence of a Christmas tree in a new way.

Eventually, Christianity took license over the Christmas tree. The tree is even referenced in the Book of Revelations, Chapter 22, Verses 1 – 2 wherein it states, “And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.”

Nonetheless, the pagan roots of the Christmas tree cannot be denied.

When Patti took me into her home seven (7) years ago [that is after she finally got past her initial inclination that I was a blowhard and that you could measure the depth of my soul with a thimble], I discovered her home was a repository for hundreds of books and writings on spiritual matters. Numerous books on Kabbalah were spread through many rooms. The Koran was present as was the Torah. The Book of Mormon. A 23 book series on the Zohar. Prayer books, Bibles both Christian and Jewish. There were Mezuzahs on some of the doors. Studies on faith, on the soul, on spirituality and religion.

My contribution?  Wanting to bring a pagan originated green tree ripped from Mother Earth into her pristine home every early December. Yes, since Patti is so much nicer and soulfully much more substantive than me (as all of our friends will attest), she allowed my request.

I have previously written about the significance of Christmas trees for me. I was raised in a family where artificial Christmas trees were not a consideration. The scent of the tree quickly filled our tiny house. But it was much more than that. The tree elevated not just our sense of smell, but it brought joy, love and light to our other senses as well. Glorious Christmas was near. And at Christmas, anything is possible!

As the years passed and the dreams and fantasies of childhood were left behind, our adult years came upon us. But still, for me the Christmas tree was eternal. It had to be real. It remained my symbol representing the endless possibilities of greater futures.

Then, little strangers a/k/a children came into our life. With ever growing numbers of friends and their Little Strangers, we would pile into first our cars, then onto full sized buses, and travel to Christmas tree farms to saw down our very own trees. The look of absolute wonder on our children’s faces were a time portal allowing us small glimpses into our past childhood. And for brief moments in time, we remembered.

The ravages of time took its toll … work, divorce, misplaced priorities … all life lessons teaching us that life is not easy. And it is not meant to be.

And yet, the Christmas tree remained. Decorating the tree became “a thing” for Morgan and me. Each year we strung popcorn and cranberry strands. Even as her eating disorder began to ravage her bodily organs, the tree remained our last vestige of a childhood that was gone … for both of us.

And then, she was gone.

That first year, less than 2 months after Morgan was taken was gut wrenching. As for a Christmas tree? Forget it! Why go through that pain? But sometimes decisions are removed from your control. Surrounded by pushy siblings, nieces and nephews, a tree found its way into my place … and remained in my life. I still recall the hours which elapsed, tears on my face, looking at the tree. And questioning life.

For the first time, I felt that a Christmas tree was mocking me. What did I have to be thankful for, or hopeful about? And yet, the tree remained, calling me, trying to get me to remember … to not give up all hope.

And so, I brought into Patti’s world, the disorder and dirt from those pagan Christmas trees.  The tree drops needles. It is dirty and messy… and worth every second and every adversity. It helps you … feel. It helps you remember that there are far greater things than your own existence.

And then, there was the special day when Satan’s Shrub made its appearance. On the day Patti and I were going to pick up a young lady who was being checked into ERC, just 2 hours before her flight arrived, the Christmas tree fell. Ornaments I deemed precious, shattered. I ranted about how it was NOT a Christmas tree, but it surely must be “Satan’s Shrub.” And then, a valuable life lesson was brought manifest. The only ornaments which broke were those purchased at stores. The precious ones hand made by my children… all survived. Precious memories. A truer message of Christmas, of love, of our children was brought to me. And yet, Satan’s Shrub had one last message to deliver in a future year.

Last year’s version of the Christmas tree was … alarming. Not because of the work that went into it, but because of the incredible ease every step of the way.

The tree was the very first tree we saw. No bad side which would need to face the wall. Perfect height. It was full. It was perfect. We got it on top of the car with no issues. Brought it home. The stand fit it perfectly the first time. This tree stood tall and straight. After cutting off the netting, the branches settled into perfect harmony. I put on the lights with no issues at all. Ornaments adorned the tree. And then, I found a perfect “tree topper.” A beautiful, Victorian looking angel. Naturally, it fit precisely.

All was right with the world. Or so I thought.

The next morning when I went to check how much water the tree had taken in, I was surprised to see the stand still full of water. The “perfect Christmas tree” was drying out. And quickly at that. The “perfect Christmas tree,” the easiest one I had ever had, was anything but perfect. With still almost two weeks before Christmas, this now fire hazard had to go. And so, it did.

I replaced the tree of course since Christmas was not yet here. It was the smallest tree I have had in years. And yet, somewhere along the way, just as it happened in a Charlie Brown Christmas, the tree began to transform.

Memories of Christmas tree farms, of the sweet innocence of children, the shouts of joy, the pure laughter from these soulful, little strangers, the sharing of the almost sacred ritual of decorating the tree with my daughter rose to the surface. Its scent was pure … and sublime.

And once again, another valuable lesson manifested. The Christmas tree which I had held so dear for all of these decades, was indeed merely a symbol, important yes, but just a symbol. Most importantly, it was the love surrounding the tree. The shared dear, precious time spent with loved ones. Spending time together.

This year, humor and perhaps the Deities conspired to make the 2024 version of the Christmas tree unique.

Once again, I induced Patti to allow me to destroy other aspects of the house by bringing into our lives… a Vizsla puppy.  Now Patti has not been a dog person as an independent adult. But, I had 2 Vizslas. Which means … I should have known better. But … NOOOOOOOOOO.

So, with Beauregarde being 11 months old in December and with Vizslas being high energy, I had a plan! Patti has a very sturdy small, square table. I would buy about a five (5) foot tree and place it on top of the table. In that way, the wood-headed dog could not micturate on the tree and perhaps the ornaments would be out of reach.

I immediately found the tree, poured two (2) Mambo Taxis down my gullet, went home and was determined to get the tree in place immediately. Well… there I go again.

I got the tree in the stand, got it up on the table, filled the base with water and as I was trying to anchor it… it wobbled, began to fall, the fall was partially impeded, water was spilled on the floor, I let loose with a tapestry of profanities that until this day is still hovering over the Trinity River, and the dog quickly yelped and ran into a different room.

A shot of tequila helped steady the nerves and calm the savage beast, the tree was more properly placed in the stand and stood up.  As Patti caught up on her slumber, I put the lights on the tree while the horrible Christmas movie, “Red One” was playing the background.

And then … I remembered.

I previously wrote about the young lady suffering from eating disorders who was being checked into ERC during the infamous Satan Shrub year.  The past week, she reached out to me.  With her permission, I can set forth what this incredible soul wrote:

“3 years ago today I landed in Texas and met you and Patti. The morning of The Great Christmas Tree Disaster.. which was a disaster and a headache for you but one of the most genuine acts of kindness anyone has ever done for me to this day.”

“I’ve spent my morning reflecting while I sit here at work and I just can’t help me feel emotional about how something much bigger than you or I was at play when you were brought into my life and then all the sudden I was in Texas at ERC.. basically losing my mind and hating all of existence.”

“My life is so amazingly different today and my time in Texas was the pivotal moment.. where the scales finally tipped for me was sitting at your dining room table with Patti.. she told me that I needed to become the CEO of my own life.. that if anyone was going to make my life better it would be me.”

“I took those words and ran and I have not stopped since. I have not needed to admit to treatment, I have maintained a healthy weight, I don’t struggle with mental illness nearly to the level I did, I work two jobs, take care of a home on 5 acres and raise my boys all by myself— I work at a treatment center for teen girls and in the counseling center at a high school.”

“My life is dedicated to helping really cool teenagers and I’ve found my passion in life. I’m back in school pursuing my degree, and my boys have their mom back and never have wonder if I’m going to show up for them.

“Your interaction in our lives may have been brief, but it was the most pivotal time in my entire life and I truly do not think I would be here today if it wasn’t for your kindness and willingness to help me at my lowest. I hope you both are doing so well. I think of you guys often! Thank you for everything 🤍.”

Symbols of Christmas. Books. Trees. Christmas movies. Gifts.

This year, all of these symbols cannot begin to touch my heart and my soul as this young angel has done.

I received my Christmas gift early this year. A gift that is a reminder that my beloved daughter, Morgan is still doing great work and is making this world a better place. I am just a place marker for her, for her acts of strength, of compassion, acts of love, of how her sacrifice is still guiding me to help others as I can.

What a precious, precious gift Allison gave to me. 

Thank you, Allison. Hug those boys of yours and keep inspiring others through your strength and courage.

Merry Christmas Allison.

And to all.

The Winds of Change

In the past few weeks, iaedp’s “Board” released an announcement advising its members that changes were coming and that the Board was launching a new initiative and strategic plan for the organization.

When I first read this, I equated this “major announcement” with the “major award” won by Old Man Parker in one of the best Christmas movies ever released, “A Christmas Story.” Visions of a fishnet stockinged leg lamp danced in my head.

However, the announcement, when it comes, will end up being quite significant, if not different than what the Board initially intended. Although iaedp has not yet issued its official announcement, the subject has become known in certain circles of the eating disorder community. And that is …

Bonnie Harken, iaedp’s Managing Director is … “retiring.” 

It is unknown whether she will also be stepping down as Chairperson of the Boards of Directors of all the “independent” corporate chapters. It is logical to presume that these positions will be included in her retirement.

Most people in the community know that I have significant issues with Ms. Harken and that we are in an adversarial capacity. But that should not diminish the accomplishments Ms. Harken achieved in the past.

According to her LinkedIn profile, Ms. Harken has been in the eating disorders treatment field since 1987. She states she was a founding officer of Remuda Ranch Centers serving as its Vice President until February 2002. Since February 2002 until two days ago, she served as the Managing Director of The International Association of Eating Disorders Professionals Foundation (iaedp). Certainly, twenty-one (21) years far exceeds the reign of any other leader of all other eating disorder organizations. Ms. Harken stated that she served many major eating disorders treatment facilities as a consultant.

In the past, she had a vision for eating disorder board certification. Under her leadership, this certification program was built. For that she should certainly be commended. She was instrumental in helping to bring information about eating disorders to the mental health community. 

However. 

After issues were brought to the attention of Ms. Harken and before the lawsuit was filed, Ms. Harken and iaedp’s attorneys attempted to deflect attention away from iaedp’s issues and stated their belief that the Morgan Foundation was operating illegally. This is generally known as a “straw man fallacy or argument.”

A straw man fallacy is the fallacious practice of attempting to refute an argument different from the one under discussion, while not recognizing or acknowledging the distinction. Ms. Harken failed to consider that in early 2020, I intentionally let the Foundation lapse.

Through my investigation and research, I found that there were people in the eating disorder community who instead of helping families, were hurting families suffering from this disease. I knew that to expose their conduct and get them out, I had to be aggressive and utilize social media and the court system. I had to become almost hated. I did not want my daughter’s name sullied with that which had to be done.

So, the Morgan Foundation does not, and has not solicited donations, accepted donations or co-sponsored any events since it closed. I regarded Ms. Harken’s attempt to use this to deflect attention away from her own alleged questionable conduct as a sin that cannot be forgiven.

To me, there are very few things/people beneath contempt. But, in attempting to take issue with, and besmirch the memory of my daughter is beyond all decency.

My daughter died after fighting eating disorders for seven (7) years. She possessed more courage, resolve and heart than people like Ms. Harken could possibly envision. However, Ms. Harken crossed the Rubicon of decency. For that, there can be no forgiveness. And that knowledge, that reality, hurts my heart.

Before the current situation, I was on a cordial basis with Ms. Harken. In fact, in one email she wrote:

“I have read Morgan’s journal entries several times.  I feel very honored that you shared those pages with me because I imagine the contents of her journal are so very precious to you.

My mother left me a diary that journaled her health issues for over a year before her sudden death.  She did not share the issues she was having with me or my brothers.  She did not seek medical help which I believe was due to the fact that my father had died four years prior and she didn’t want to go on.  Her diary was both a comfort and –sometimes– an agony for me.  So many feelings…  I am not comparing my experience for any other reason than to share that I know how precious those words on paper are and am so deeply touched that you shared them with me as someone you do not know.

I can’t even begin to fathom what feelings Morgan’s words stir in your father’s heart.

I have no context for her thoughts in terms of when she wrote them or how close it was to her death or the pages that precede or follow those you shared.  I do not need to know because the pages I read spoke to me of her journey from a “higher power” to the revelation that our Savior is real and a comforter who loved and cared about her even if she didn’t understand her own circumstances or feelings.

I read the pages repeatedly and thought about my own journey to Jesus and all I have learned since I began my imperfect journey nearly 40 years ago with a Savior who is real and present daily in my life.  I asked Him to guide my words to you.

My prayer is that my words comfort you. 

I do know this with certainty:  When Morgan closed her eyes here on earth, she opened them in the presence and love of Jesus.   Heaven is beautiful with colors beyond our imagination.  She is with God in perfect peace. 

God loves you and I believe He has a call on your life and your journey.”

One statement in that message is particularly poignant. “I can’t even begin to fathom what feelings Morgan’s words stir in your father’s heart.” No, Ms. Harken, you can’t. Consider yourself lucky that you can’t.

I wonder what happened to that person. The person who crafted those words. The person who crafted that message. It is that person I want to remember. That person who at one time strove to help others.  That person who made a difference. And yet, I fear that person no longer exists.

That person who could have remained an icon in the community … instead of an outcast.

iaedp’s crucible

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, what are you doing for others?” 

— Martin Luther King, Jr.

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” 

— Winston Churchill

Iaedp’s Symposium 2024 has begun. As per its custom, this year it is being held in Orlando, Florida. To say the Symposium is completely engulfed by controversy and discord is an understatement.

Some BIPOC iaedp members chose to boycott the Symposium because of the Florida Board of Education changing the state’s standards on African American history in July 2023.

The iaedp petition calling for Ms. Harken’s resignation and revising the certification process, which was started by concerned iaedp members in December 2023, has reached 277 signatures. Until very recently, a reasonable inquiry would have been whether Symposium attendees would exceed the number of signatures on the petition. Purportedly, the numbers are close.

The on-going lawsuit. Complaints filed with state and federal administrative agencies and taxing authorities.

Iaedp corporate chapters demanding dissolution. Ms. Harken demanding that those chapters pay over to iaedp national, any monies those chapters may have in their meager bank accounts. Demands for the resignation of Bonnie Harken.

Iaedp’s Board of Directors have no members with any business or legal experience and did not even place Ms. Harken on Administrative Leave while they conducted an investigation. For that matter, did the Board conduct ANY independent investigation?

There is no doubt that iaedp is under increasing pressure from many different sources. It finds itself in a fiery crucible where irrelevancies and subterfuge are burned away thereby exposing questionable conduct and the flaws of human nature.

And above all, we as a community, cannot and should not be looking upon the inevitable dismantling of this organization and Ms. Harken with any satisfaction or pleasure. Schadenfreude should be so remote from our conscious thoughts or feelings as to be non-existent. 

Whether you agree or disagree with the lawsuit. Whether you have positive or negative thoughts or feelings directed toward me for pursuing this matter. Whether you believe or not believe that iaedp and the certification process needs substantial revamping … the sparsely attended 2024 Symposium should serve as a stark example of what could happen when we, as a community drift away from the sacred trust placed with our medical and mental health providers who treat eating disorders.

When NEDA was sued in December 2020, I pushed for an early mediation. My sincere hope was that improvements and positive changes could be made and that NEDA, yes would go through some difficult times, but would emerge more vibrant and stronger than before. In addition to the attorneys appointed by the Directors & Officers insurance company, NEDA also had an experienced, wise attorney who had been involved with NEDA for a number of years. That attorney understood the importance of an early resolution. And in less than six (6) months after filing, the NEDA case was settled. NEDA served and serves a purpose.

In past writings, I mentioned the great Chinese General, Sun Tzu. He believed that when you have your foe surrounded and their defeat is inevitable, you should offer that foe an honorable exit. And so it was.

With iaedp, an early resolution will not happen. Settlement offers have been made, the latest as recently as last week. Each offer has been met with silence. Iaedp also does not have an experienced attorney independent from the insurance providers to lend wisdom and knowledge of eating disorders. NEDA had and still has experienced business people on its board. Iaedp does not. NEDA had a semblance of oversight over its officers by its board, oversight which resulted in its former CEO and the person who mainly caused the damage to be let go. Iaedp does not.

Brantley is Whitfield. Whitfield is Brantley. Iaedp is Ms. Harken. Ms. Harken is iaedp.

I do not believe iaedp can, nor will, survive the investigations which may be conducted by state and federal authorities.

In this matter, a road to redemption was offered. And was not accepted.

The consequences for that lack of vision will inevitably lead to the conclusion from which Ms. Harken and iaedp are desperately running.

In litigation as in war, you achieve victory by engaging in a relentless, aggressive, well-orchestrated and carefully designed plan to obtain victory and deprive your opponent of the initiative. You make your opponent pay a price higher than it expected for choosing the path of war. In litigation, an attorney has the power of the legal system at his/her beck and call. Issuing subpoenas for relevant documents not just from the named parties but also from third parties and witnesses. Deposing people who may have information of relevant facts. Uncovering lies. Exposing fear, arrogance, greed and collusion. Discovering facts which support long held suppositions. Where necessary, including third parties as possible liable parties. Hundreds of hours spent on the process. The uncertainty.  The unexpected. For example, did United Behavioral Healthcare dare to consider that in the Wit case, it would lose its ability to control its own claims process and possibly must pay attorneys’ fees exceeding $3o million dollars?

The greatest truth to embrace, the truth that keeps one focused through this mighty process is the reality that people who suffer from eating disorders will undoubtedly benefit from this challenge. Families who suffer from this disease may find comfort and greater opportunities to heal. Fraud, and those who perpetrate it will at long last be exposed.

We must continually be looking forward, always forward. We must place our families who suffer from eating disorders first and foremost. As a community, our nondelegable duty must be to help those who are suffering. Somewhere on the path, iaedp lost that vision. It lost its way. And those who are supposed to be overseeing iaedp have lost iaedp’s mission… if not its very soul.

THAT is what the iaedp lawsuit is about. Trying to salvage a broken system so that more lives can be helped. To burn away the falsehoods and nonsense in the crucible.

That is the absolute reality which keeps one focused, which guides one through the turbulent days, weeks, months and years which lie ahead. Saving lives.

And so, as I previously plagiarized from Willie Bob Shakespeare, “Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more …”