Doctoral Dissertation


January 17, 2022:  Update
    So I am now officially Rev. Dr. Denver NeVaar.  The hope is that this will be a major game-changer for me, but for now it’s still a time of waiting, to see who will sufficiently appreciate this accomplishment to extend new opportunities and resources in my direction.  In the meantime, there are several ambitious video projects and a couple of book manuscripts in process.  Perhaps it’s just as well, considering how insane the world has become in its responses to threats from public media and politicians and the verifiable uncertainty of the information and responses thereby offered.  My personal guess is that threats are 70% scam and only 30% truth, but I have had close friends included within the smaller percentage--and percentages mean nothing if one happens to be among the relatively small number of persons directly affected.  I remain nonetheless outraged at the abuses of power this generation of public hysteria is facilitating, enabled by the unwillingness of the majority of the population to say or do anything in opposition.  It is not a new observation and one that has been repeated by many, that “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good to do nothing.”   So I persist in doing whatever I can.  Humanity must ultimately remember that it is far more important to create high-quality lives than to merely earn a living by sacrificing virtues and qualities that should never be sacrificed.  It is not so much that future generations will judge us, but rather that we judge ourselves by what we say and do.  The fact of evil, however, will never be sufficient reason for not doing what we can, nor will it ever prevent wisdom and love from ultimately being victorious.  

February 15, 2022:  Possible pearls
    Why must there perpetually be bigots and bullies (of all descriptions), to which it appears no individual is immune, yet of such diversity that no single answer will put an end to them?  I strive to remember that they too are individuals with particular stories and specific unresolved mental and emotional wounds, but without knowing their stories, I am powerless to transform their violent expressions.  I try to stay out of the line of fire, but am not always successful.  Does my pain accomplish anything, for them or for me?  Are such experiences actually necessary to comprehension of compassion?  
    I wonder if that might be so, considering how lacking in compassion persons met within past periods of time were, who had also known relatively trouble-free lives.  Perhaps there is something about trouble and pain that forges enduring relationships--or at least has the ability to do so.  There have equally been encounters with those who never rose above their pain, but instead allowed such momentary experiences to define every moment of life that followed.  
    So I strive to remember that life is an incomprehensibly populated sequence of moments, each potentially unique and absolutely available to whatever personal investments I make.  I strive to have faith that Godde is real and loves me in a way that only makes sense from a divine perspective.  At times, I wonder whether those who insist on divine non-existence might be right.  At other moments, I am absolutely certain they are wrong.  
    I recall the witticism that “the pearl is the oyster’s biography,” and can only hope that will be true of me as well--in which case the moments of my life are poised to create a virtually infinite quantity of pearls.  

February 22, 2022:  The lingering night
    How puzzling to wait in darkness for dawn, certain it will come, but such certainty does little to make the time pass any more quickly.  How often I have heard others describe life as good, but to me it has never seemed so, shifting from one oppressive set of circumstances to the next.  In defiance of such a backdrop, however, sparkling moments continue to occur--almost miraculously, it seems, but randomly and unpredictably.  
    Nonetheless, it is the possibility of such that persuades of perseverance, to avoid the risk of abandoning presence five minutes before any break-through or miracle might occur.  Always the future holds infinite possibility and the spiritual is far more enduring than the material, but in spite of being so valuable is rarely valued.  Without which, life’s forward march through time abruptly halts.
    I look in a mirror and find that in spite of being told the opposite for literally decades of early development, there’s a chance that I too may be valuable if also seldom valued.  Labeling myself “handsome” seems too much and I sometimes smirk that “I couldn’t be that good if no one wants me,” but there have been a few who were thankful that I continue to find space within the world, even if the particular contexts were saturated in unmet needs.  I persist that if a tombstone is raised for me, it should read, “I would have created so much more, if I hadn’t spent so much time and energy merely fighting for survival.”  
    As objective and honest as such descriptions may be, continuous learning, growth, and living depend instead upon reaching for the positive possibilities that have persistently danced just beyond the tips of my fingers.  So I choose to remain in faith--that good will ultimately be rewarded, that I will never regret being true to myself, and that, in time, the world will understand what I persistently try to give--without expecting anything in return--simply because of who I am.  
    I give thanks for the blessings to come and pray for the strength to endure until they arrive.   

March 14, 2022:  Waiting Between
    I have long contended with being valuable but insufficiently valued; striving to persistently have faith in positive developments I have been assured are coming, but which have yet to manifest.  It is difficult to express the chronic psychological pain of the current time--having vision, yet required to live within severely limiting circumstances that additionally discourage anything positive from occurring.  
    Yet none of this is the measure of myself or of my life.  What remains most essential is simply the lingering question, “What sort of person will you show yourself to be?”  My responsive lament is often that of how much one can demonstrate, using only inadequate resources.  
    Part of essential resources, however, are essential symbiotic relationships.  A most difficult focus within that, is finding persons with sufficient vision and faith to strive for love and wisdom within a world that increasingly leans in the opposite direction.  I would nonetheless rather be the last person striving for such things, than be one more individual who settled for less.  I can only hope that Godde will at some point reward my efforts, as well as guiding their further expression and development.  

April 18, 2022:  The Uncertainty of Mortality
may have cancer and some very expensive alternative treatments may be effective in extending his life, but he is already nine years old, so I’m not certain how much longer he’s going to live anyway.  Obviously, I’m thankful for every moment with him that I get.  In all honesty, my life is no more certain, from one day to the next either.  
    The challenge is making each moment count, but that’s difficult to do when resources are minimal at best.  Yet within each moment is the opportunity to most truthfully show who I most truthfully am.  

July 3, 2022:  Ongoing Uncertainty
    Gawain’s physical life continues and as I reread the previous note, I give thanks that each moment is also an opportunity to more truthfully see who he truly is.  Presuming at any point that I have learned all there is to learn or that I know all there is to know, is terribly short-sighted and arrogant--and actually also suggests shifting away from truthfully living.  Within any such conclusion is the suggestion that growth is no longer necessary and, as was suggested within a poster I saw many years ago, growth is the only indication of life.  
    Movement can be mechanically manipulated.  To grow is to become; to shift from one way of being into another, that may or may not have commonality with previous forms and expressions.  Ideally, growth is an expansion of whatever previously existed, but often an unexpected one revealing qualities previously unnoticed or undetected.  If these are welcomed with love, it is likely that even greater forms and expressions will follow, because if life is not growing, it is losing integrity.  
    Perhaps that’s what death is really all about:  integrity slipping away; losing the ability to persist in being and expressing who and what one most truthfully is.  Sometimes that loss is due to choices, but at other times it may be caused by negative environmental influences--various kinds of poison, for example.  If one cannot escape the effects of such, one can still choose diverse ways to best utilize the limited number of moments still creatively available.  
    Every moment is an opportunity to sign one’s name to life in new and unexpected creative ways.  

September 24, 2022:  Perceiving Surroundings and Being Affected Thereby
    I am not the man I used to be nor the one I hope to one day be again.  I am one who perceives and is most often not believed, but such perceptions are not legitimately supportive of accusations of mental instability.  If anything, they offer others more to contemplate, investigate, and integrate.  
    It is nonetheless most troublesome as abilities diminish that others seek to impose clothes that don’t fit and shoes of incorrect size and design.  Sometimes I worry that their devaluation of me may be correct, yet other times I seek to leave my work to a future generation, because the current one is so intolerant.  Life is good because it is divinely created and not because it is understood--because it isn’t.  
    If life must be incarcerated by ignorance, then it has no reason to continue.  Yet if it can be blessed by love and wisdom, it’s value may reside beyond rather than within this time.  Mostly I seek to avoid any loss too great to bear, but the current time comes dangerously close to such manifestation.  
    Gawain has crossed to the Rainbow Bridge, but I still say “good night” to him at the end of each day and have not persuaded myself to remove his harness from its coat hook by the front door.  I long for the sense of home and family to return, which always accompanied him.  I will probably never go jogging again without remembering him.  

September 27, 2022:  Perseverance
    Anyone who thinks Sister Who a.k.a. Rev. Denver NeVaar, PhD, has an easy and cushy life should be here to watch me today.   
    Having finished scrubbing on my hands and knees the floor which is repeatedly soiled by the new puppy, Dunstan, who after several months still refuses to be house-trained, I was then unable to stand due to the neurological damage caused by living too long under high-voltage power-lines and being repeatedly bureaucratically blocked from relocation for reasons of basic health, makes recommending life to anyone incredibly difficult.  In a similar way, a man once commented on my service dog as if being able to take my dog everywhere was a privilege--to which I responded, “Do
you want to live with autism twenty-four hours per day and seven days per week?”  
    So why is compassion in such short supply, especially during times of difficulty?  Perhaps that is exactly why difficult times occur.  Compassion, by definition, is everyone’s job.  

November 1, 2022:  Symbiotic Triad Awareness
    The Symbiotic Triad of Holistic Health measures tension between obsession and being oblivious in relation to psychology, sociology, and spirituality--interpreted as relationships with one’s self, others, and the transcendent.  Within the current time, the majority of humanity appears to be moving toward sociological obsession, suggesting the natural movement of a Sacred Clown would be in the opposite direction:  toward an integration of psychology and spirituality somewhat sociologically isolated, in order to create overall balance.  Although I look for sociological connection, I am unable to embrace the obsession common within others, that simultaneously neglects psychology and spirituality.  
    At the same time, I seem to be striving to come to terms with a puppy originally purchased to become my next service dog, who appears as narcissistic as the common obsession in many ways destroying the world.  Yet narcissism is a curious mental state to define, since it is not truly an obsession with an authentic multidimensional self, but rather with a disconnected projection.  What is conspicuously absent are authentic relationships.  Speaking in canine and wolf terms, if the puppy cannot bond with others, he is unable to be part of a pack, which would be analogous to an individual being unable to engage in familial relationships.  The difference between he and I, however, is that while I am isolated due to exclusion, he is isolated due to failure to connect with others.  The causes are comparatively from completely opposite directions.  
    If only recognizing this pointed the way to its resolution, but I have been unable to determine that it does.  The added complication is the neurological “shut down” impacting my life experience, that has made so much of daily life quite difficult to manage, most probably caused by invisible environmental pollution--confirmed by the fact that every time I am away for extended periods of time, all the negative symptoms begin to fade.  Yet because it is invisible, very few others are willing to believe me--which is in some ways analogous to living according to faith and spirituality, which are likewise predominantly invisible.  I seem to be precisely where I need to be, but without knowledge of specifically what to do.