Monthly Archives: December 2014

The Road to 65, Mile 23: A Very Full Solstice, Part 1

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December 21, 2014, El Morro, NM- I don’t think I’ve made such a big deal about the December Solstice before.    Penny and I would have chai and watch the moon rise, with a group of Phoenix- area or Prescott- area Wiccans, but since her passing, it took me until this year to include the occasion in my life, in a meaningful way.  (I use the term December Solstice, because the longest day is a great celebration for the indigenous people across the Southern Hemisphere, and I tire of seeing them left out of the celebratory messages.)

Today started with a marvelous shower and gradual wakening, by 7:30 AM, in my comfortable cabin, “Deer Cabin”.  I was informed that breakfast would be served from 9-12, so there was plenty of time for me to take a few winter photos and pray for many people and situations.  I posted a few of these on FB, but here are some scenes of the El Morro Lodge and Ancient Way Cafe.

First, here is the interior of Deer Cabin.

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Here’s the exterior.SAM_3257

Ancient Way Cafe was founded by a spiritual mentor who is known as Red Wulf.  He paid us a visit at breakfast, but stressed “I’m not here”, as he is officially on sabbatical, until April, 2015.  Several other local characters also gathered for breakfast.  I selected “Donald’s Breakfast”, a hearty farmer’s breakfast ,which is fitting, since Donald is a self-sufficient organic farmer.  He was present this morning, at the table next to mine, along with several members of Red Wulf’s spiritual circle, Wave Riders of the Ancient Way.  They’ve been here since the 1970’s, as have many counterculture groups, around the Southwest.

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SAM_3261Hanging chilis are a symbol of welcome in New Mexico, and I certainly felt welcome.  The Wave Riders did not wish to be photographed.  Many of them were quite exhausted from having attended an event at a gallery across the highway, until 2 AM. Our cook was one of them but fortunately he was rested enough to do a good job.

I checked out at 10:30, and headed up the road to El Morro National Monument.  The place is distinctive in three aspects:  Geologically, archaeologically and graphically. I will show photos of the geological aspect first. El Morro, Spanish for “The Headland”, is made of largely striated sandstone.  Wind, water and lichen are breaking the sandstone down.  Many, like the NPS film’s narrator, the actor, Edward James Olmos, bemoan this process.  The National Park Service is trying to shore up the ruins, as we’ll see.  The big picture, though, is that nature was here first, and will fulfill her mission, one way or another.  Notice that there are pinon pines, and one-seed junipers, mixed throughout the park.  A smattering of Ponderosa pines have grown on top of El Morro Mesa.  The trees also break down the rock, by sending out roots.

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SAM_3279SAM_3285SAM_3286SAM_3290 So, you can see the majesty of the sandstone massif,  plus the effects of  wind, water, lichen and tree roots, on the great structure.  In the next post, “Mile 23.5”, I will address the human legacy of El Morro.

The Road to 65, Mile 22: Return to A Point of Departure

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December 20, 2014, El Morro, NM-  I set out for Zuni, a bit after noon today, preferring to wait for the last little bit of mail to arrive at my house. It was an inconsequential piece, but better safe than sorry.  Gassing up at Costco, I headed to what I hoped would be a satisfying lunch at a local organic farm stand.  As it happened, the farm stand’s sandwich maker has Saturdays off, so the choice was pastry, or pastry.  I waited until Camp Verde, got a tuna sandwich from one of the chains, just off I-17, and continued on, past Flagstaff, to Winslow, where a delectable acai smoothie, from Mojo Coffee House, re-energized my focus.

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The terrain is low-lying, through the Little Colorado River Valley, past Joseph City, Holbrook and the Petrified Forest National Park, then rises into chaparral forest near Navajo Travel Center.  After taking advantage of good, inexpensive gas, at the Giant in Sanders, I followed HWY 191 to Hwy 61, which leads to the New Mexico state line. At the junction, I looked back and saw this:

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It was getting dark, though, as I approached the settlement, where I met Penny, my late wife, on December 6, 1980.  There was no visible place of accommodations, on the main road and Chu Chu’s Restaurant shut out its lights, just as I pulled into the parking lot.  Getting the message, “Beat it”, I resolved to come back to Zuni in daylight.

My next choice for a dinner stop was Stagecoach Cafe, in Ramah.  It was marvelous- a small, cozy room, filled with Southwestern decor, and offering hearty New Mexican-style cuisine.  I opted for Red Chili Beef Enchiladas, followed by coffee and blueberry pie.  I’d stop again at the Stagecoach, anytime.  The owner told me about El Morro Cabins, so that’s where I headed next, and where I am now.  This is a lovely reminder of the Cabins at Wolf Creek, where I stayed last year, on a return from Denver.  One of these journeys will be spent entirely in one spot, a cabin like this, somewhere. (Photos in the next post).

The Road to 65, Day 21: White Horses, Black Hearts

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December 19, 2014, Prescott-  Much has been said, all over the place lately, about the Congressional Report on Torture, and about the North Korean reaction to “The Interview”, a Sony feature film about…. North Korea.  As is often the case on social media, people are bickering, squawking, yelling at each other, breaking out flame throwers, and just about anything else that can be done to silence those of opposing viewpoints, on both matters- as well as such arresting topics as “What should Celebrity X have named her new baby?”

I have dear friends on both sides of each issue, and some who are on both sides, depending on which cactus patch into which they stumbled, in the dark, on the way to the theater.  My own take on each subject, seriously, is as follows:

IS (Islamic State), is the acronym which I will use to identify the current group of flaming imbeciles who are now practicing to be members of the Society for Creative Anachronism. ( I have a young friend named Isis, and I feel badly for her having to sit through her high school Channel One sessions).  Anyone who beheads, rapes, dismembers or otherwise deprives another human being of his/her God-given rights, purely on ideological grounds, does not deserve to take part in the life of society.  No Prophet of God ever said otherwise, although there are some who believe that They did.  I believe that the death penalty should apply in severe cases, such as mass murder, beheading, child rape and armed attacks on schools.  This penalty should be imposed by the State, not by individuals, and is the State’s bounden duty.

In the meantime, however, torture by individual agents of government is a false means to security.  Here’s why:  Many of those tortured over the past ten or twelve years have snidely provided false information.  Most recently, a bogus tip given the U.S. Government about American and South African hostages in Yemen resulted in the slayings of those hostages.  The tip was a result of torture.  We live in a dangerous world, yes, but lowering ourselves to methods used by Torquemada and Himmler will not prove reliable, over time.

“The Interview” is an inane movie.  I don’t care in the least for the policies and behaviours of the North Korean elite, but the likelihood of regime change through assassination is relatively small.  Nonetheless, our Constitution says that people have the right to express themselves freely.  So, despite the ridiculous content of the film, people, in this country, should be able to watch “The Interview”, if they so choose.  I hope it at least goes straight to video.  Either way, I will ignore it, but I will defend to the death YOUR right to pay it ,some mind.  After all, no one from Texas hacked the studio that produced the film about killing Dubya.

The Road to 65, Mile 20: Now, Then

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December 18, 2014, Prescott-   I found out, early this morning, that someone had pushed the wrong button, in the course of my last financial transaction.  The deposit which should have been posted yesterday, never made it.  This will slightly alter my spiritual journey to western New Mexico, which I had planned on starting Friday night.  No matter, I will get a good night’s sleep here, and most likely be able to set out on Saturday morning.

Zuni, where Penny and I first met, in December, 1980, is first on my itinerary. El Morro National Monument, near there, is next, and I will head, in succession, to Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, where we went crane watching, Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument and Silver City, which we wanted to visit, but never did, Cochise Stronghold (one of my favourite meditation spots), and Tucson, where a few friends await.

Christmas weekend will find me at the Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference, where I have spent each of the past twenty-two years, save 1997.  It is a good place for spiritual regeneration, and coming on the heals of my time in the forests of western New Mexico and the serene desert near Vail and Avra Valley, it represents a double dose.  Of course, the crowds at GCBC are large, but I draw energy from the youth, and regard many of them as friends.  I have watched so many grow up from infancy, in the time I’ve been back in Arizona.  Now, they are taking on the world, on their own terms.

I sat down this morning with several of the Red Cross Disaster Response Team members, with whom I would be working, if chosen for the position mentioned earlier.  There is a plethora of detail to be worked out, each time a disaster happens.  Good thing there is no ‘I’ in team.  I have had a lot of practice, these past two years, both here and in Europe, in being an effective member of a team handling somewhat chaotic emergencies.  There is a reason for everything.

This evening gave me an hour’s worth of study on Essential Oils, vis-a-vis women’s health issues.  It is also going to come in handy, and this area was not something with which I had much familiarity, until now. That goes to show, in this day and age, an old dog had best learn new tricks, and skills, without hesitation.

The Road to 65, Mile 19: Green Chili and Coconut-Fennel Cookies

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December 17, 2014, Phoenix-  I could not really explain to the befuddled police officer why I slightly strayed over the broken lane line, on one of Prescott’s main streets, this morning.  I certainly wasn’t DWI- haven’t had a drink in 33 years, and I’m not on any meds.  I was feeling a bit woozy, though, so his pulling me over, mostly, it seemed, out of boredom, was a good thing.  I didn’t get anything more than a verbal caution, which nonetheless forced me to refocus on the here and now.

I bought the cookie sheet I needed, went home and baked 1 1/2 dozen cookies, made with spelt flour, aluminum-free baking powder, a cage-free egg, fractionated coconut oil,shredded coconut, coconut sugar (unrefined), fennel and lemon oil.  The process of finding the cookie sheet, police encounter included, took one hour.  The mixing of ingredients and baking of the cookies took 25 minutes.

I took the goodies down to a Red Cross luncheon in Phoenix.  It was a well-catered, Mexican food affair, to which the HR director and I were the last to arrive.  No matter; I missed the enchiladas, but had a good plateful of everything else.  I also got to watch the latter part of a white-elephant gift exchange, always good for a few laughs.  Once all was done, I offered my cookies to the group, as they headed back to their desks.  Each one who took a bite said the cookie was fabulous.  Mission achieved!

After ascertaining from the HR Director that nothing more would be done, vis-a-vis the position for which I’m applying, until after New Year’s, I gassed up and headed back to Prescott.  This is the way of it:  The tasks which I undertake might involve driving 100 miles, for thirty minutes worth of , or they might mean walking five minutes, and spending five hours at a small desk.

I’ve drawn the conclusion that it is all a matter of focusing on the what, the why and the who.  The how usually makes itself known, in process.  There is nothing too small or mundane, too grand or exotic.  There is no one too obscure, or overarching, in importance.  There is nothing too simple, or complex, in rationale.  All tasks end up equal in importance, in the end, as all tie together to make this series of events we call a life.

I will, no doubt, make more cookies, before the week is out. There is another gathering on Friday evening, and before that, a friend or two to visit here in town.  Each one counts as much as the other, differing only in the intensity, and nature, of our relationship.  That’s how it is with a widower:  Those who fill the world, after one’s beloved departs for a purely spiritual presence, are loved strictly for their inherent humanity.  Ulterior motives serve no good purpose, and I have thus discarded them.  In the ensuing bliss, green chili is as good as its red cousin and cookies flavoured with essential oils are a joyful contribution.

The Road to 65, Mile 18: Sticks and Bricks

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December 16, 2014, Prescott- Today was a whirlwind, even though there is no work this week, due to the approaching holidays.  Synchronicity, which is a fact of life for most of us, had me at a Slow Food gathering, which I had to leave early, so as to get back home for an online meeting.  Before that, there was laundry to get done, family cards to write out and send, and a bit of shopping to get ingredients for my cookie-baking exercise, tomorrow morning.

How men and women treat one another is much on my mind.  I have known women who were abused by men, men who were abused by women, and those who trade abuse back and forth, like a flaming potato.  The old saw about hurting people who hurt people keeps singing my heart.

Penny and I had differences of opinion, misunderstandings and “cool-down” periods, throughout our 29 years together.  We never, once, struck one another, never spent a day apart, and never slept separately out of hurt or anger.  I guess the whole idea was that nothing individual was more important than the unit that was our pairing, and then the family that started with the conception of our son, in October, 1987, cemented by his birth nine months later.

When there are disagreements between my friends, be they online or real time, I hold back from choosing sides.  I do not, once, favour a person who chooses violence as a way to solve a dispute.  I can’t go along with subterfuge, either.  All parties involved are still in the world, and both have growing to do, as I did when I was a young husband, as my wife did- and all four of our parents, before us.  I will support each friend separately, and all of them collectively- if they work towards resolution.  Sticks and bricks hurt, when they are thrown, rather than used to build structures.

The Road to 65, Mile 15: Validation and Respect

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Sagittarian Seeker's avatarA Sagittarian Seeker

December 13, 2014- I watch my favourite television shows on my laptop, a day after they are aired on TV.   This evening, I  watched a segment of “Blue Bloods”, in which one of the issues was respect between a husband and wife.  Validation of  a woman’s goals and aspirations was a matter of  personal growth for men of my father’s generation.  My mother did that for which she was trained, hairdressing and cosmetology, working out of her kitchen, as part of putting food on the table.  Dad respected that choice, and valued her efforts.

It was a no-brainer for me, that Penny would work at what she loved best, and at what she excelled.  We worked a few times in the same schools, and her efforts often exceeded my own.  I learned to be sensitive, to avoid small acts or statements which could be misconstrued as disrespect for her…

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The Road to 65, Mile 17: The Office Party

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December 15, 2014, Prescott-  Yesterday evening, I attended a Red Cross office Christmas Party, at the lovely home of one of the lead volunteers.  It was about seven miles out in the country, and the home was both modern and cozy.  I haven’t attended very many office gatherings, over the years, but I have embarrassed myself only once, back in the drinking-problem days, when I was first in Graduate School.  Since then, it’s been a nice learning curve of honour and respect.

We had a nice assortment of foods, and I brought my bubbly cranberry (non-alcoholic).  The two dogs present kept us on our toes, vis-a-vis placement of food.  Several photos were taken, and I was not in any of them- being just happy to converse with several people, on a variety of topics.  The party game was “Janga”, of which I opted out, being of not the greatest fine-motor coordination.  I am applying for a position within our office, so hopefully  my not playing won’t prove to be this year’s equivalent of “You didn’t drink the boss’s brand of beer.”

This brings me to the position.  I have looked over the specs for this job, and I have a vision for it, which I will lay out, first on the application, and later, with my wider audience.  One of my siblings once upbraided me for rarely delivering on my promises, in the work world.  He was largely correct, but I did, in the 1990’s, implement and administer a Comprehensive, Competency-based Guidance program.  Sure, it was part of a national trend, yet the teachers and I made it work, tailored to our school’s local conditions. I can do that again. Being much better at playing well with others than I used to be, is a big deal.

The new position would revamp my plans for the next six years or so.  I would free-lance travel a lot less, but the stability would make my eventual journeys a whole lot more comfortable, when they happen.  I would definitely be out and about, a lot, though, in my territory of northwestern Arizona.  A good life involves a series of adjustments, and many of those are self-determined.

The Road to 65, Mile 16: Whose Yule?

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December 14, 2014, Prescott- I skirted the fringes of a Facebook scuffle over A) which December holiday was better and B) who has any right to say Islam should not be practiced in American schools?  Hmmm.  The first one seems to be a tussle over pride of place.  To my way of thinking, there is plenty of room for all celebrations.  Yule, or Winter Solstice, is the oldest, going back to the pre-Christian Celts, at least.  Chanukah came next, in terms of chronology.  Christmas has the widest appeal, and greatest social cache, worldwide.  Modern and values-based, Kwanzaa delivers a viable message that Africans were never, historically, a primitive group of peoples.  Festivus?  Hey, what the heck, let the good times roll.

This is the time of year when people like myself can sit back and honour a wide variety of religious practices.  I still send cards and small gifts to Christian family and friends,  and light the Menorah that Penny, Aram and I kept lit, in honour of her family.  I can’t chant the blessing, as she did, but the respect is there.  I also feel the spark of energy that comes with Solstice, as the days get infinitesimally longer.

Fighting over holidays is as silly as parents fighting at Little League games.  I can only wish one and all a peaceful season.

The Road to 65, Mile 15: Validation and Respect

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December 13, 2014, Prescott- I watch my favourite television shows on my laptop, a day after they are aired on TV.   This evening, I  watched a segment of “Blue Bloods”, in which one of the issues was respect between a husband and wife.  Validation of  a woman’s goals and aspirations was a matter of  personal growth for men of my father’s generation.  My mother did that for which she was trained, hairdressing and cosmetology, working out of her kitchen, as part of putting food on the table.  Dad respected that choice, and valued her efforts.

It was a no-brainer for me, that Penny would work at what she loved best, and at what she excelled.  We worked a few times in the same schools, and her efforts often exceeded my own.  I learned to be sensitive, to avoid small acts or statements which could be misconstrued as disrespect for her work, or for her thoughts, goals, dreams.  There is a lot of subliminal sensitivity among Baby Boomers, stemming from our place as a transitional generation, one of whose tasks was to establish a true equality between genders.

Society is not there yet.  Women, by and large, do get validated, in terms of their aspirations- up to a point.  There remains the Glass Ceiling.  There still exists the disparity in salaries, between genders.  Both genders, to a large extent, regard rape as a victim-initiated crime- even, among some on the far right, a contrived crime, either instigated by the woman, or made up by her-for various reasons.

To be sure, there are those who use rape as a cudgel.  Such women, though, are a very small percentage of the total post-pubescent female populace.  Their acts should neither define public policy nor be the determinant of society’s attitude towards the vast majority of victims of sexual assault- female or male.

As an educator, as an uncle and as a friend, I regard the aspirations, the efforts and the boundless intellectual and ergonomic gifts of women and men on an equal level.  As a fellow human, I regard a person’s body, space and well-being as inviolable.  Each of us has had to struggle with emotional and spiritual baggage.  I have disposed of much of my own, especially in the past dozen years.  I have imparted to our son, the imperative of being at eye level with any woman he wishes to bring into his life.

Being in the world, living a complete life, means extending that right to all others.  Slowly, and steadily, the human race will realize that gender equality brooks no leeway.