August 22-23, 2015, Prescott- I have read a few posts online, and pondered some situations in real time, this rather busy weekend, and have shed very real tears. Mostly, they come from regarding the genuine kindness shown to suffering, frightened children, or from reading of the very real emotions felt by those who have lost loved ones, so far this year, and there are so many such friends. My tears come when I am alone, and can focus on things like the pain of other human beings.
Saturday was largely celebratory, in my Prescott circle: A mesquite flour pancake breakfast reminded me of how we would function, if the stock market crashed and took many people’s jobs, and life savings, with it. We would learn to forage, and we would have to get along better than many of us have chosen to get along with others. Mostly, though, my breakfast companion and I enjoyed the delicious repast and talked of a plan she has to start a sustainable community in east Texas, somewhere.
I left her to take her first tour of Arcosanti, and went to an American Legion picnic, where lunch, mercifully, was not served until nearly 1:30 PM. I had to contrast the atmosphere with the earlier event. Legion folks tend to welcome one another to sit down, talk and pass the time convivially. (The mostly upper class folks who attend Slow Food events tend to frown on anyone they don’t know sitting anywhere near their table. Fortunately, my friend and I had a section of the long table, where we would be far enough away from the well-dressed woman who recoiled in annoyance, as we took our seats.)
Anyway, I got up and danced with a few of the ladies, during the live music portions of the picnic, both before and after the meal. I am a passable dancer, when it comes to the steps we all learned as teens and young adults. The easy conversations we had also made the event more worthwhile.
Sunday morning, after the customary Legion breakfast, our area Baha’is gathered, and discussed matters of living and sharing our Faith, and serving the larger community. As we talked, a heavy downpour, which not everyone had expected, blessed our consultations. The sky cleared later, long enough for us to get to our after-meeting lunch. Then, during lunch, there was a second downpour. I think the spirits cried tears of joy.
My mood right now is pensive, because the whole matter of my mother’s safety, this coming winter, remains unresolved. It’ll get figured out, soon, and either I will do my filial labour of love, or actually stay in the Southwest, for the bulk of the next twelve to sixteen months. I am grateful, though, for my varied and widening circle of friends.