In Memory of Author Gregg Sanderson & Holiday Poem

In Memory of Gregg Sanderson

We are crestfallen to announce that Transformation Coaching’s longtime contributor and great friend Gregg Sanderson passed in September 2021 from Covid-19 and other complications. Gregg was an integral part of the Transformation team from its beginnings, and we have had the pleasure and honor of working with him for more than a decade. Gregg’s spunky sense of humor, knack for poetry, and uncanny ability to describe in writing the Infinite (which he called B.O.B., the Being of Bliss) with clarity and relatability endeared him to our community and made him one of our most popular contributors. As another long-time author said: “He not only will be missed in the magazine, but his vital energy and keen insights on the human condition we all share is a light gone out. Indeed, Gregg was a shining example of a teacher who lived his message: Gregg always exuded joy and demonstrated how to live in a state of gratitude. He had a magnetic, humble wisdom that is captured perfectly by the title of the very first article he wrote for Transformation Magazine, back in our bygone days of print: “That’s the Way It Is (Unless It’s Something Else).” While Gregg is no longer with us in the physical, his spirit will live on though his many articles in our online archives. Two months ago, we began publishing his series “The 12 Pathways,” based on Ken Keyes’ Handbook to Higher Consciousness, and in his honor we will continue until completion; this month is the Fourth Pathway. We also are sharing Gregg’s favorite poem, Family, as a tribute to his witty banter.

Family By Gregg Sanderson

One thing everybody knows is Family ain’t a bed of roses. When we all would get together, don’t ‘cha know When we differ in many ways Criticism’s trumping praise And harmony’s a tricky row to hoe.

Witness the dysfunction At the holiday luncheon. When family assembles from afar All have their own delight And they know their way is right No matter how opposed their viewpoints are. Grandma’s cooking up a storm At the stove at night and morn She knows a woman’s place is in the kitchen. Mama says it’s overrated Gender roles are so outdated Grandma just says “daughter, quit yer bitchin’”

Sister Susie won’t eat meat. She calls watercress a treat. She’s a militant crusading vegetarian. Grandpa Henry sprinkles sugar On his bloody rare hambuger That’s how he became octogenarian.

Uncle Arty is a smarty Joined the Democratic Party And loudly he puts down the SUV That belongs to cousin Joe Who thinks that Arty is a shmoe. So naturally he joined the GOP. Brother Georgie is athletic And he thinks it’s just pathetic That younger brother Ritchie is a nerd. While Georgie gets the praise Little Ritchie gets straight “A”s And each one thinks the other is absurd.

Cousin Willie is successful But his life is over-stressful With his business always calling him away. Yet the most disturbing call Wasn’t businesslike at all It was just son Bob, announcing he was gay.

Then there’s uncle Jack Who somehow came out black While all the rest of us are lily white. We couldn’t ask his mama Who was down in Ala bama But I’ll bet that southern belle got quite a fright.

Some folks have to criticize They think they’re very wise And that they’re on their way to self-esteem. When judgment is their lot Sometimes that’s all they’ve got. A happy life for them is just a dream. Little Lucy is a looker And she became a hooker. We all have different ways to get life’s lesson. Putting righteousness aside And letting love instead abide We each can be ourselves without suppressin’ All that yucky “stuff” we wish’ll Go away is superficial While the love inside is aching to express. Beneath everybody’s game We’re really just the same. All we want is love and happiness. We all are sisters and we’re brothers There aren’t any others To induct into the brotherhood of man. So when somebody’s opinions Make you call out all your minions Try loving your fellow human if you can.

So now I say to you It’s all in point of view Perhaps we just might clear away the fog By thinking when we see A dog that has a flea That maybe it’s the flea that has a dog.

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