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.

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Gender roles are so outdated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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