04.21.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:14 pm by rolf
By Sven-Erik Paloheimo
It is a distinguished honor and a great privilege to be given the daunting task of capturing in words a little of Jyri’s character and history. Words are inexact creatures in conveying the depth of the experience felt by those who knew Jyri well. Shortly after being asked to give the Eulogy I wrote down a few words which immediately came to my mind –wise, patient strong, loving, disciplined, friend, father, playful, stubborn and humble. Simile, metaphor and eloquence rest upon a commonality of experience of which each felt to be singularly unique in my father’s presence. But these words fail in light of the man I knew. So please bear with me as I recount a few impressions, antidotes and experiences my family and I have had with this a most remarkable man.
Before I begin, on behalf of the family I would like to extend our deepest gratitude to all friends, neighbors and spouses. The support and caring have been extraordinary in this one of our most trying of times. We honestly could not have pulled through this without your help, love and support. To my knowledge there were at least 3 vigils sitting for my father in his final hours here and in New York. This incredible outpouring is overwhelming in its heartfelt sincerity. Thus, I would like to say a humble and profound thank you to everyone.
* * *
Jyri Erkki Paloheimo was born on July 7th 1932 in Kuhmo Findland. Kuhmo is a small city located in Eastern Finland close to the Russian border. Finland itself is a country whose landscape is littered with scenic lakes, woods and fiercely independent people.
Born to Major Erkki and Sirkka Paloheimo, Jyri was to be the eldest of three boys. The Paloheimos were an esteemed and proud family that traced its lineage back to the 16th century.
Some of Jyri’s most formative years were marked by the Second World War. Not only were his father and uncle fighting on the Russian Front to defend Finland but the family suffered through the hardships of a country under siege. As he reflected in the last few months on this period he felt that the war taught him a sense of responsibility he would not other wise have had and hence learned skills he otherwise would not have acquired. One those rare occasions Jyri would recount stories of these difficult times to the family gathered around the dinner table. One of his favorite stories is a Paloheimo classic involving our great uncle.
At the end of the war the Finn-Russian Armistice stipulated the repatriotazation of foreign soldiers to Russia. My great uncle was in charge of a trainload of Estonian soldiers who were to be shipped to Leningrad. After the train left Helsinki, my great uncle went to each car unlocked the door and proclaimed, “The Finnish woods are wild and free.” When the train arrived in Leningrad of the 1500 Estonian soldiers only 2 remained. The Russians demanded that our great uncle be reprimanded and discharged from the army, however as our father liked to point out he was but with the highest army pension in Finland.
In the post-war era, Jyri developed a fascination with mathematics. A largely self-educated man, he would spend his mornings skiing and his afternoon’s studying. It became evident after a time that to progress further in mathematics Jyri required a teacher and mentor. After an exhaustive search he became enamored with this one particular teacher, however the teacher had 2 demands. One that Jyri not play chess and two not to become involved with persons of the opposite sex as both could potentially corrupt the mind. My father the consummate empirical scientist tested this theory. Well looking back 7 children and one professorship Emeritus later I think he made his point.
He would go on to complete his degree on abstract mathematics in 1953 at the University of Helsinki. Soon afterwards he arrived in Canada and married his first wife Anna. For a few months his experience was one of the quintessential immigrant, unable to speak the language he worked as a general laborer in construction until he was able to muster enough English to navigate daily life.
He sought to continue his studies on Hilberts Space and after completing his MSc at the University of Toronto received grants from the three most predigeous universities in the United States to work toward his PhD, he chose Columbia University in New York. However, practicality had knocked on his door in the form of his first child, my brother Rolf. In need of securing better financial stability, a kind Maritimer by the name of Lloyd took Jyri under his wing and procured for him a position with the Fisheries Research Board of Canada at St. Andrews New Brunswick as a statistician. As Jyri remembers the interview for the job he was ushered into a room and sat beside Lloyd. Across from them sat a man behind a desk, my father proceeded to watch as for the next hour as Lloyd and this gentleman engaged in a lively discussion on what he could not understand at the end of which he was offered a job and so began his career in Zoology and a life long friendship. It seemed particularly appropriate for this displanted Finn to work in Zoology. A love for and connection with nature was rooted in not only his childhood environment but also the very Finnish blood, which coursed through his veins. He settled in St. Andrews with his wife Anna, Rolf his first child and soon on his heels the second son Martti. He returned to complete his doctorate at U of T in 1967 and was immediately hired as an assistant Professor in both the department of Zoology and Mathematics. Within 3 years he was given tenure
It was at around this time that he met my mother Linda - who unfortunately could not be here today due to illness. She brought to the marriage two children - Lisa and Roland. As my sister has eloquently stated “I feel as though I was the most fortunate of the children because Jyri consciously and deliberately chose me to be his daughter to love and to raise.”
An accomplished academic and known around the Department as the “Fish guy”, Jyri published prolifically – writing or co-authoring close to 70 articles and writing or contributing to at least 5 books. His career was always guided by a love of nature and the pragmatic reality of humanities effect upon it. A pioneer in his field, Jyri worked on a number of pressing environmental issues from whaling, to the diminishing fish stocks in the Atlantic to the effects of sport fishing on fresh water ecosystems.
And yet more than an academic to me he was papa. And what a dad he was –as my sister Lisa said “he had a way of teaching us as his children not so much by the words he spoke but rather how he lived his life. You can imagine with 7 children there were a lot of lessons to teach. He lived his life with grace and truth more than any other human being I know. He had a way of exuberating integrity with no effort at all.”
Speaking with the other siblings the admiration and respect we all had for a man who was and will continue to be the strongest influence in our intellectual emotional and spiritual growth is breathtaking. He was always a man of his word and expected the same of us.
However, in all fairness he did have a number of faults- he was a lousy cook and irrespective of his profession a horrible math tutor. It must also be said that his volumous eyebrows and heavy accent did lend a mad scientist’ kind of air to him. It did not help that he was always in the basement tinkering on his latest contraption whether it be his infinite gear transmission or his infamous Murphy beds. All of his projects bespoke of a search for utility, exactness and efficiency.
As a grandfather, he rejoiced in teaching life’s simple lessons to each of his grandchildren. Just recently one particular granddaughter came to my father perplexed about a question she had been asked on a test. She asked him “what was the same about the beginning and the end?” He replied with out a pause. “The end is always the beginning of something new.” It is this simple yet profound wisdom which he lived by. And it is this simple yet profound wisdom we all admired him for.
A later theme in Jyri’s life was healing. This arose primarily from his 15 year struggle with cancer. In true Jyri fashion, he turned himself into a laboratory in which he would systematically and with the utmost discipline examine each and every available cure. However, he took this micro study and applied it to his surroundings seeking to heal the common ailments of the human condition – namely our tendency towards vanity, egoism and our inability to see ourselves as we truly are. The lessons he learned from his struggle he would pass on to all who would listen and work.
It is remarkable even in his last moments of life he managed to teach all of us something about grace, dignity and love. As my sister Jasmine observed Jyri communicated to us all what we needed to hear then quietly slipped into the night.
Well Papa we will miss you terribly but wish you the sweetest of Dreams
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:13 pm by rolf
By Thomas Paloheimo
My father was a gentle soul. Over the years he taught me to be the leaf that floats on a raging river, instead of trying to be the rock that cleaves it. I have definitely inherited my father’s calm nature, and I think it is in large part due to the number of storms we endured together, and the number of storms he appeared to float through, always maintaining that sense of calm and gentleness. When my father did speak out, he only needed to say little to command attention, the act was a rarity, and as such, enough to command your full attention.
My father also taught me, as I am sure he has taught many of you, to live a life in contemplation of the self. The wandering and untamable mind was my father’s greatest adversary, and it was only through a defined effort to refine thought, and to refine self-awareness, that he gained ground in this war. His bookshelves hinted at the work that was taking place within, and they inspired, simply through their sheer enormity, the same spark within me. I am a writer not just because I love great stories, but because my writing began and continues with the fundamental questions and observations in my own life, experiences which are both universally human, and intimately private. Looking at how my father lived I see that my writing very much reflects his character, it is a combination of the mathematician and the monk, the scientist and the poet; a rumination on where divinity meets the realm of reason.
In the period of time before my father’s death, he taught me much about courage, not only through his struggle in these final weeks, but also in the tales of his boyhood in Finland, living life in the shadow of war. He taught me about being an independent soul, for in his teenage years he preferred the atmosphere of solitary study in his grandmother’s home, to the cramped conditions of his family’s small apartment, and high school’s bustling classrooms. He taught me about bravery and faith, as he told me his story of coming to Canada, unable to speak the language, and having to provide for a new family. And he taught me about responsibility, nobility, and love, as he had to reconcile his own dreams of becoming a famous scientist, with the responsibilities of being a father and husband.
One of the most important lessons my father taught me, however, was through his death. A week before he passed away, I had the opportunity to ask him some burning questions concerning his life, which I very much wanted to know before he passed on. One of the biggest was, “what did he feel his greatest achievement in life was?” I was being neither critical nor complimentary, I simply wanted to know what my father was the most proud of; where had his dreams, in any way, met reality.
After I asked him this question he paused for a long period of time in contemplation, I assumed he was mentally pouring over the contents of his lengthy resume, but it soon appeared apparent that he was not going to come up with an answer anytime soon. I interrupted him and added, “Well, it could still be yet to come.” Without missing a beat he responded with “I believe it is still to come. My greatest achievement would be leaving this life with no debts, spiritual, karmic, or financial, although I don’t think that last one will happen.” He laughed. My father passed away only one week after that moment. So, I do not know if my father ever believed he had left the earth debt free. But in the middle of the night, while I sat on his bed, and we were alone together I shared some of my own observations.
I told him that it was amazing to see all of the love in this household, all of the love that was both focused on him, and centered around the family. All of the people who felt compelled to come and be with him, to see him, help him, feed him, hold him, and kiss him before it was too late. I told him how amazing it was to see the family care and help, and provide for each other, the hugs, the kisses the support and the understanding. How amazing it was to witness the parade of lives he had touched in a profound way. All of this love he had created by being a father, and working hard all of those years, forgoing his dreams for the well-being of his family. All of the people he had taught to be more aware, more conscious of their selves, their minds, their hearts, and their spirituality, simply by observing him live with those goals in mind. He appeared to respond as I said my goodbye and gently stroked his hair. He opened his eyes and appeared to smile, it was brief, but enough.
In the end I do not know what my father personally believed to have been his greatest achievement, but I feel it is obvious, the love and awareness my father has created in this world, surely overshadow any debts he may have felt were left unpaid. His death taught me what it meant to live life well.
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:12 pm by rolf
By Rees Hughes
The Shark
A treacherous monster is the Shark,
He never makes the least remark.
And when he sees you on the sand,
He doesn’t seem to want to land.
He watches you take off your clothes,
And not the least excitement shows.
His eyes do not grow bright or roll,
He has astounding self-control.
He waits till you are quite undressed,
And seems to take no interest.
And when towards the sea you leap,
He looks as if he were asleep.
But when you once get in his range,
His whole demeanor seems to change.
He throws his body right about,
And his true character comes out.
It’s no use crying or appealing,
He seems to lose all decent feeling.
After this warning your will wish,
To keep clear of this treacherous fish.
His back is black, his stomach white,
He has a very dangerous bite.
Lord Alfred Douglas
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:09 pm by rolf
By Anna Carling
As Jyri spirit soars toward the lighter sphere,
May cosmic music be mathematics for him there,
The way mathematics was music for him here!
In the early days when young,
Jyri spoke of abstract mathematics,
As if some magic was carried in those words.
The way he made the sounds, he made me listen,
And without understanding with my mind,
His equations of “The Hilbert’s Space”
Made mathematics into music for me as well.
I then heard how the Universe speaks,
Grants perception for the asking.
Through flash of inspiration It gives insight,
Kindles the spark of inner fire, whispers
Its knowledge as music of the higher spheres.
- The abstract mathematics Jyri spoke of,
Was his way to express that music.
- But he also spoke of the warnings from his teacher:
“In order to pursue the knowledge
Of the perfect equations of cosmic relationships
Applicable to all levels of existence,
You must stay focused on the quest.
Therefore, stay away from chess boards,
They are more intoxicating than wine.
Even more dangerous, devastating to our cause
Is to be entangled in women’s love”.
Well, Jyri fell for us women
As our family will happily assess.
- There has been little talk of Hilbert’s Space.
But look what he left, for us, this country and the planet.
As he was enlightened by deep inner study
He left us wisdom, his silent love,
His quiet way of listening, and truly hearing,
- His wry humor, which still brightens our days.
Seven wonderful children with offspring he left,
Who for sure, in unity and respectful love
Will make this Firetribe a force to be reckoned with.
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:09 pm by martti
by Howard Levitt
I was brought through Martti into his family circle where Jyri presided as a sort of benevolent patriarch over monthly or so dinners
where copious amounts of wine and food were always generously
flowing, and he struck me immediately as warm caring open and in many
ways remarkable in his search with people in an authentic and genuine manner.
Invariably Jyri would challenge us with questions concerning our
inner lives in a way I haven’t seen before or since. To give a sense
of the flavour of these exchanges, one in particular can serve as a
good example.
After initial grace and toasts had been drunk, he posed the question
to each of us:
“If you could change one thing in your makeup, in the way that you
are or what you do, what would it be?”
And invariably, when we first came up with things that we needed to
change, something we thought was wrong with ourselves, through a kind
of socratic process with everyone participating, we were opened to
the fact that what we thought was wrong was not at all wrong but
perhaps a strength and our weakness was quite different from what we
assumed, and perhaps yet unseen.
In many ways through Jyri’s warmth it became a family that I never had.
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:08 pm by rolf
By Jasmine Paloheimo
Do not forget how Jyri has lived, whose breath has not yet vanished from this place, how he behaved unworthily for a man, and did not accept the fact that he, as well as all others, must die.
O ye holy God almighty and immortal spirits of our ancestors, help us to keep death always before our eyes, and not to succumb to temptation.
Silence
It would be desirable for all, for God, for the deceased, for you, for me and even for the whole of humanity, if, at this death of Jyri Paloheimo, the process of the real grasping of all of our own forthcoming death takes place in us. Only the complete realization by us of the inevitability of our own death can destroy those factors, implanted thanks to our abnormal life, of the expression of different aspects of our egoism, this cause of all evil in our common life.
Silence
If all men had a soul,
Long ago there would have been no room left on earth
For poisonous plants or wild beasts,
And even evil would have ceased to exist.
Soul is for the lazy fantasy,
Luxury for the indulger in suffering;
It is the determiner of personality,
The way and the link to the Maker and Creator.
Soul is the residue of education,
The prime source of patience;
It is also testimony of the merit
Of the essence of eternal Being.
Leader of the will,
Its presence is “I am,”
It is a part of the All-Being,
It was so and always will be.
Silence
The Buddha said that reality is the Void itself and that ultimate existence issues from Non-existence. All we can try is to bring the idea of death to the very heart of life, for to know that everything will finally sink into the Void is a great relief. We work with a smile and a feeling of freedom only if we know that nothing will last forever. Then we are like children building castles of sand on the shore of time.
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:07 pm by rolf
By Lloyd Dickie
Following a reading from “The Sermon on the Mount’
The extract from the ‘Sermon on the Mount’ (Mathew 5:1-12) that was just read is part of the sermon that Jyri and a group of his friends were undertaking to study in the last 2 or 3 weeks before his death.
It is important to us today, because it gives us an example of a principle which, as his associates, we have all tried to understand and apply, even in the midst of our failures. It is the principle of questioning, and contemplating the opposite sides of everything that always appears so automatically in our lives. What for example is really meant by the statement, ‘ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’? This contradiction of our expectations about those that we think are the ‘poor in spirit’, is a case of the opposites that calls on us to be aware of the need for something more in our awareness. In effect it calls for a glimpse of a remarkable force that we have learned to call the reconciliation of opposites. This reconciliation, that we can sometimes see is so necessary in real life, often seems to arise only in retrospect, and only in its form as a mysterious Third Force, one that is quite difficult for us to recognize in the moment of need for it, and one to which we are often quite blind.
We come to this here, after the last few weeks of special efforts, trying at first to help Jyri with his bodily needs, and also reading and studying together from some of his and our favorite literature in ‘All and Everything’. This work together, in small groups, in various places in Toronto, New York, Ottawa and Halifax has actually helped to sensitize us to the finer energies that are aroused by the efforts themselves.
It is this state of ‘being more sensitive’ that we can bring to this invitation and opportunity offered in the Trinity Chapel of the University of Toronto. Here we are specifically invited to devote attention to the Spiritual Side of all of our undertakings.
Of course, in our ordinary lives we scarcely understand the meaning of the word ‘spiritual.’ But when, as now, we can be in a more sensitive state, we can at least feel clearly the contrasting opposites between the joy of association with Jyri, his knowledge, his understanding, and his sense of humor, and its opposite, the sadness and loneliness we feel because, as he himself put it, he has ‘gone away’. Recognizing this, we can see the need to enquire further.
We can see the need to actively find ourselves a place where we can hold our limited understandings of these opposites of life and death, at the same time. We must not, indeed there is no way in which we are able to dismiss or hold one or the other of our sensitivities to these things separate from the other one. There is no possibility in normal people for an escape into a kind of isolation of one from another of these feelings – either in us, or between us.
Just a few weeks ago Jyri wrote in a journal that he kept to remind himself of these facts the following:
“Live your life leaning against the vault of the sky with feet well planted on the earth. Move constantly between the one and the other, remaining aware of the movements of Great Nature. It is this constant movement that is to create the matrix of the void in which you will find yourself face to face with yourself. It is then up to you to formulate your own discipline. Above all, ‘wipe out the past’.”
In this note Jyri reminds both himself and us of some of the teachings that have been brought down to us in various ways in all of the world’s great religions.
For example, al long ago as the time of Moses – nearly 4 000 years ago – the book of Exodus tells us how, when Moses realized that it was his duty to lead the Israelites ‘out of the Land of Egypt’, he asked his God, Jehovah, how he could tell the people who it was that had sent him to them. To which Jehovah is said to have replied, ‘I AM is who I AM’. This abrupt statement is a stark reminder of the fact that any undertaking to experience the Spiritual in our own lives is not a matter of merely thinking or imagining ‘about’ the Spirit and the Spiritual!
Instead, it is a matter of finding a practical way for our heads, our hearts, and our active bodies to come together and to thereby give us the miraculous strength of Spirit that is needed in us, even to attempt such a practice. Madame de Salzmann once put it the following way:
“We can see that we have not experienced deeply enough something real in ourselves – something not to be explained – an inner event – something I can not doubt, a moment when I know with all the consciousness of which I am capable, that I am present here. I need to experience this, first, more than anything else.
To come to this I have to separate myself from everything in my ordinary way of thinking, of feeling, of sensing. I have to find a new perception of myself. If I cannot do this I will never be convinced that there is something in me, someone, who is a different being from the one I usually know in life. I have to know that this reality exists, not only as a possibility which I can sometimes touch, but that it really exists and could have an independent life. I can come to this. I can come to this if I draw my attention towards the inner sensation of my presence here. It takes as much time as it takes, sometimes more, sometimes less. You have to give it time, enough time for you to get there…’
We need this, if we are ever to detect in ourselves the glimmer of light of that suprational reality that St. Paul spoke of when he said: “For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)
I wish to end this short reminder of our spiritual possibilities by reading, in Jyri’s name, one of his favorite writings of Michel de Salzmann, - a short reading that he had among his papers. Michel wrote it 5 years ago, in April 2001, shortly before his own Death, but Shortly after he knew of his own impending death from cancer:
Now, at the end of this encounter,
We may realize once again
That what reanimates in each of us
The sense and meaning of our work,
So needed on the earth,
Is only the blissful, wonderful action of
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS.
It is not the clever words that are spoken
That will make the impossible become possible…
But only the deepening
Special education of our school, that is, its specific initiation into
SELF-REMEMBERING.
May it be, more than ever among us,
Our powerful task
To recognize and serve
The immanent, immutable, immovable, immeasurable, immortal
And unique source of being
And hence discover the realm of true action,
The action that the world desperately needs.
Truly it is up to us to cultivate that special taste of a wish for ‘being’
Permalink
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:05 pm by rolf
By Martina Paloheimo
We see a dog chained to his kennel and barking, but the dog itself does not know that it barks. It is only fulfilling the function for which it is there. Animals have consciousness, but not self-consciousness. The heart of the problem that interests us is the following: ‘Have an eye open on yourself, observe yourself.
In life you are, in fact, like the barking watchdog; you are always watching others, but you never look at yourself with the same keenness.
Perhaps we are praying automatically; perhaps we are tranquillizing ourselves automatically. Both of these are worthless for the future. It is even a crime for your future. Our prayer should not be automatic. We must pray, really pray, like Christians. We must pray with your whole presence, and with all three of our centres concentrated on the same thing. We must pray with our head, our feeling, our sensation. Do not pray to tranquillize yourself. This prayer will not tranquillize you, it will tire us. But, afterwards, we will succeed in doing - attain what is necessary for ourselves.
The Christian prays with his whole presence. Man, in general, prays only with his thought… The state of the feeling and the presence should correspond to the movement of the prayer.
Permalink
04.20.06
Posted in Uncategorized at 9:45 pm by rolf
This is the first post. It will gradually move to the bottom.
I will edit it once the blog fills up.
Permalink