RIP Belton "Buzz" Milonich, b. ~1954 - d. 2019

I was not able to find an obituary online, but Buzz was and will always be my dear friend. It seems prudent to take some time to remember him.

I have never met anyone quite like him - he taught me a lot about life. Buzz knew a hell of a lot about life and was a damn good man. We both lived in the same apartment building in Loveland, Colorado. I talked to him outside his residence and told him I would come visit. I didn't (justified with "life gets busy" bullshit we all pull). When he saw me again he gave me a piece of his mind. I got mad, he got mad, and we ended up crying together over this shitty thing we call life. He was looking forward to meeting. I realized my shallowness.

Buzz and I got pretty close and we talked about all kinds of shit. He told me about his life and the hell he had been through (I don't know if I've ever met anyone who had been through as much as he had - which I will keep confidential for his sake - but he'd been through a hell of a lot). He gave me his pocket watch which I still have to this day, and would occasionally give me a piece of his mind. When I met this cute little girl, I blinded myself to her flaws and praised her unconditionally. Buzz told me what he thought of her. I viciously defended her. He turned out to be right. My heart was never the same after that relationship ended. Buzz told me about his time in prison with famed poet Jimmy Santiago Baca, his publication in "A Joint Conference", and his participation in the prison with a group learning Transactional Analysis techniques with Ram Dass, whom he developed a friendship with.

One night not long before I left Colorado, Buzz told me some things about life and my situation that I will not be able to forget. I was furious, but he was right in what he told me. It hurt to hear the truth. None of us want to hear the truth. Most of us spend our entire life running from it, from ourselves - trying to outpace fear or make some sense of it. Most bury their heads in the sand, carving out a little hole to quell the pain and fear of the unspeakable horror that pervades and pulses behind human pursuit. I don't know if I will ever be able to accept what he told me that night, but I will certainly use it to try and become a better, more mindful human being - as painful as it may be - and be a compassionate one, at that.

Buzz was a man of honor and of love - I witnessed this kindness and honesty and can attest to it. It was quite refreshing. Someday when the end is near, I will still remember the time we spent together as some of the best in my life.

Rest in Peace my wise and kind friend

-Pat

On Mysticism

There are experiences that most of us are hesitant to speak about, because they do not conform to everyday reality and defy rational explanation. These are not particular external occurrences, but rather events of our inner lives, which are generally dismissed as figments of the imagination and barred from our memory. Suddenly, the familiar view of our surroundings is transformed in a strange, delightful, or alarming way: it appears to us in a new light, takes on a special meaning. Such an experience can be as light and fleeting as a breath of air, or it can imprint itself deeply upon our minds.

One enchantment of that kind, which I experienced in childhood, has remained remarkably vivid in my memory ever since. It happened on a May morning — I have forgotten the year — but I can still point to the exact spot where it occurred, on a forest path on Martinsberg above Baden, Switzerland. As I strolled through the freshly greened woods filled with bird song and lit up by the morning sun, all at once everything appeared in an uncommonly clear light. Was this something I had simply failed to notice before? Was I suddenly discovering the spring forest as it actually looked? It shone with the most beautiful radiance, speaking to the heart, as though it wanted to encompass me in its majesty. I was filled with an indescribable sensation of joy, oneness, and blissful security.

I have no idea how long I stood there spellbound. But I recall the anxious concern I felt as the radiance slowly dissolved and I hiked on: how could a vision that was so real and convincing, so directly and deeply felt — how could it end so soon? And how could I tell anyone about it, as my overflowing joy compelled me to do, since I knew there were no words to describe what I had seen? It seemed strange that I, as a child, had seen something so marvelous, something that adults obviously did not perceive — for I had never heard them mention it.

While still a child, I experienced several more of these deeply euphoric moments on my rambles through forest and meadow. It was these experiences that shaped the main outlines of my world view and convinced me of the existence of a miraculous, powerful, unfathomable reality that was hidden from everyday sight. -Albert Hoffman