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Alan speaks in a very symbolic and esoteric manner in some parts of his books. Although they can be read anthroposophically, passages speaking of Atlantis, archangels, gods, etc. do not need to be taken literarily to be meaningful. The more you read, the more you will realize he uses many different religions to express ideas in a symbolic manner and not in a religious manner. His writings are not religious. In some places his writings are meant to refer to religious events in a historical way. In some places he is using religious figures (from Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Paganism, Ancient Roman and Greek Religions, etc.) in a symbolic manner. However, at no point is he promoting a specific religion or speaking from a religious point of view.
I have kept the writing as close to one-hundred percent original so you will also find that he speaks of Australia often and some spelling or manners of speaking may be cultural. Any words I have changed are presented like this: <word>.
Also keep in mind that these books are written by a Waldorf teacher with decades of experience who also studied with a Steiner student himself, so he speaks to an audience that is dedicating their lives to the Waldorf method without exception.
Because of this, all of his views are not reflected in the Earthschooling curriculum and not all of them may be ones you want to embrace or are able to use. In all of Alan Whitehead’s writings the opinions are his own and may not align with Earthschooling or Waldorf Books. In some cases, we will be updating some of these chapters in the future with additional and/or updated information.
Ultimately, however, as I read through these passages I find I can distill wisdom from even those paragraphs that do not resonate with me.
We invite you to read with an open mind and heart and with eagerness to learn and discuss…
FIRST WEEK IN MARCH
Seniors’ Week
Again, celebrating such an event as getting old might seem odd; but as the demographic gradually changes in the West from a young to an aged dominance, heed must be taken of the special place society’s· Elders have in our community. As the saying goes: the· death of an elder is equivalent to the burning of a library!
In the spirit of self-interest, I am one of these Elders, being born in 1941, as I was. In fact, the following article for Senior’s Week is – unashamedly! – all about moil One of the main problems associated with old age is lack of physical well-being. With effort and intelligence, it is possible to have a quality of life not noticeably worse – in many cases better – than that enjoyed by the equivalent young. A major problem is overweight leading to a raft of health issues.
A couple of years · ago I was given five – yes five – death sentences by my doctor. But first, flash-forward two years. What price weight loss? Twenty-three million dollars, it seems. This was the obscene sum paid recently at auction for a “lost” Picasso painting. The anonymous former owner then generously donated the entire sum to the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Sydney for research into obesity, and its shadowy fellow traveler, type 2 diabetes.
In an age where consumption is king, especially of the gastronomic variety, this disease group is increasingly costing society more than almost any other, extending, as it has rarely done in the past, even down into childhood. The good news is that the solution. unlike for so many other life-threatening illnesses, is ridiculously simple – eat less, exercise more. Now back to the five death sentences. Actually, I have done considerable research of my own on this subject – and I didn’t need the proceeds of an overpriced Picasso to do it.
Just after my 68th birthday, I visited my optometrist for a new pair of glasses. Her extreme-close-up frown alerted me that something was amiss. “You have a cataract in your left eye.” she informed me, “This is often a sign of type 2 diabetes onset.”
On her advice, I checked in with my GP, who ordered several tests. These indeed confirmed that I had the disease; even though I felt fine at the time, though considerably overweight. The doctor, in his most dolorous delivery, then pronounced my five death sentences. “If you do not go on medication, or change your lifestyle, your blood-sugar imbalance… will eventually kill you.”
“That bad!?” I gulped, “But that’s not all; your tests show that you have fat build-up around the liver. If you continue with your current eating habits, this will one day kill you.” I opened my mouth to protest about his tactless bedside, manner, but he continued. “Type 2 also inhibits kidney function, and if untreated will in time poison your system – and kill you.”
For a moment I felt like dying right there in his surgery. Then he delivered his fourth blow. “That is if the cholesterol build-up in your arteries doesn’t kill you first.” “But I’ve heard that there is good cholesterol and bad cholesterol?” I pleaded. This he ignored; after all, would he be mentioning it if it were the good one? He then pronounced the fifth, and thankfully the last, death sentence. “Your weight, especially around the midriff, has exacerbated a hernia in your groin. If this gets worse, it could pop out and pinch off, causing blood poisoning and …”
“Yes, I know, and kill me!” I was indeed a dead man walking, times five! But he was unstoppable. As he drew breath to continue, I interjected. “No more killing!” I demanded. “No worries, this one will only send you blind. That’s what will happen if your cataract/s go untreated; probably before the others kill you.” Perhaps he noted the despair in my body language at this final blow as he went on, this time his tone more conciliatory. “There is a reprieve to all this, you know.”
“Tell me, please!”
“We have a raft of effective medications to deal with most of these problems; of course, you will be on them for the rest of your life. But there is a simpler answer. You could lose weight – and exercise.”
He then gave me advice on how to shed one kilogram a week. This was without abandoning any of my favorite foods, just eating less of them. No, I did not have to give up butter for margarine, just eat less butter. He also said that the weight-loss program should be assisted by a regular exercise regime. This is not because calories are burned in any significant amount by modest energy output – you’d have to walk about three miles to offload the calories taken in with one donut – but because all organic systems function better with the added blood-flow generated by exercise.
My subsequent one-hour, pre-breakfast walks included a suggested hill climb, where my cardio-pulmonary system provided evidence of its existence at the top by racing heart and heavy breathing. If this did nothing else, it sure made me feel good – afterwards, at least. Today, a few short years later, I find that hills that once reduced me to jelly legs and desperate gasping are today taken with relative ease.
The paradox in all this is that in my seventies I feel fitter than I did at sixty. Research also indicates that increased blood-flow to the brain can even mitigate those Grim Reaper senescent diseases, such as Alzheimer’ s, Parkinson’ s, and the like, though I can’t confirm this by experience!
The doctor also told me to weigh myself every week on the same day, and diligently record the data. Because weight-loss has so many variables – emotional, societal, and environmental – “And you have to commit to this for the rest of your life.” he added gravely.
“Better than popping pills for the rest of my life.” I thought.
He went on to describe how recidivism is the enemy. If the scales edge up a little, I eat less the following week; if they’re steady, I relax – even enjoying a little culinary indulgence, if it presents itself.
“It’s not too hard to lose weight.” he intoned “The hard part is to keep it off” He then explained that the best intentions are often foiled by a period of stress in one’s life. This can be domestic, vocational, whatever, where the attitude of “Hang it, what do I care – another piece of pie, please!” seems to ease the pain, for a short time, at least.
I was then prescribed my optimum weight, 85 kilos, which I proceeded to attain, one kilo a week. Within a couple of months, I was there. But I still kept losing weight, till I reached 80 kilos. Then it stopped? Was this my genetically ordained normal weight? Whatever, it feels right, as I have no desire, or need, to shed any more. Because of its modest objectives, I found the whole process not onerous at all. In fact, especially with the walking, it was rather enjoyable. If I lived/ in a more benign climate I would have added swimming to my exercise program.
I then returned to the doctor, where he ordered more tests. The results? No more type 2 diabetes; no more liver fat; kidneys fine; cholesterol down. Oh, and I had both a hernia and cataract operation – both these conditions beyond self-healing, of course: though both unlikely to return, due to weight-loss and exercise.
Because of my doctor’s twenty-three million gilt-edge advice, my five-fold walk down the Green Mile led to an escape tunnel of good health and physical well-being, wholly unexpected for this world-weary” geriatric”. Though, the final confirmation of success came later; this time from my ever-alert optometrist.
“And what medications are you on?” she asked routinely, as one does with older patients.
“Um, none.”
“Hmmm – you must be in good shape, then.”
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