Monthly Archives: September 2015

The Road to 65, Mile 286: Flexible

11
Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Personal goals

September 9, 2015, Prescott- When I arrived at school, this morning, I had a feeling the day would be different.  Thirty minutes later, I learned that my immediate charge would be absent today.  After about fifteen minutes in the front office, it was decided I would assist the teachers’ clerk. So, my day was spent photocopying, collating and stapling.  Much was accomplished in those areas.  I don’t do well with sitting around idly.

Some people were amazed that I was doing this,but being flexible is one of the things that come with being the eldest of five children, growing up in a house that was originally meant for four people, and there were seven of us.  Being flexible is one of the things that come with being an educator in a state that is only slowly coming to realize that the welfare of children is more important than tax breaks for private prisons, or perks for office holders.  The first example is one I treasure.  The second is one I value, but for the sake of those children,  I wish it were not so.

Flexibility of mind is a definite challenge to ego.  Without it, though, I would never have left alcohol behind, never have pursued, and entered, into wedlock, and certainly would not have settled down. Flexibility of mind, and of heart, is the ground floor of my salvation.

I think these things as we continue into another silly season of electoral politics.  With Aviici, I am wont to say, “Wake me up when it’s all over”.  That wouldn’t be flexible of me though, would it?

The Road to 65, Mile 285: Kombucha and Quixote

4
Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Literary criticism, Personal goals, Slow Food Prescott

September 8, 2015, Prescott- I have a couple of pieces of starter for kombucha.  It is a sort of fermented tea that, combined with organic, unrefined sugar, and mixed with the starter, will be a very strong digestive aid. Penny and I made it, around 2006-7, and used it for both of our abdominal well-being.  I will do this again.

This, and milk-based kefir, were the topics of a Slow-Food Prescott gathering, this evening.  Of course, there were a wealth of GMO-Free and organic dishes, as part of the festivities.  Given the pressure that our U.S. House of Representatives, and various conservative judges, around the globe, are putting on us to force the public to buy Genetically-Modified products, I think we need to have more events like this, to safeguard our health.  Someone asked, not long ago, if I would go to jail for my beliefs.  This is one area where I would do so.  No one tells me what to eat.

I heard on the radio that this year marks the 400th Anniversary of the publication of “Don Quixote de la Mancha”.  Miguel de Cervantes wrote of the consequences of a belatedly examined life, and of how a man’s not living his dream, until late in life, leads to so many bouts of foolishness.  Don Quixote’s idealization of the chivalrous life is not so different from the modern day fascination with Super Heroes. I was surprised, as an adolescent, when none of the Classics Illustrated comic books, which I relished, included a version of “Don Quixote”.  I didn’t read the novel until my third year in university, and I read it in Spanish.

I wonder at times, whether all we do to counteract the power structure in this world is actually a tad quixotic.  My heart, though, tells me “No, keep going.  Our children deserve a better, less materialistic system.”  So, onward I will tilt my lance.

The Road to 65, Mile 284: Treasured Hearts

8
Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals

September 7, 2015, Prescott-

Mild goes the day,

With grilled meats and light rain.

Friends’ hearts beat loudly,

From both near and far.

Some happy, others forlorn,

I treasure all, for none have I scorn.

The wish I have,

To be there for all,

Sits like a chimera,

Fleetingly, atop the wall.

The Road to 65, Mile 283: Grillin’

7
Posted by on in Entertainment, Social

September 6, 2015, Prescott- One of the benefits of being semi-settled is, invitations to gatherings start to pile up.  The three-day weekend has brought me to two enormous, well-stocked and well-attended barbecues, yesterday and today, with a third slated for tomorrow.

Last night’s gathering was a birthday party for a long-time friend, belated by two days, for the sake of holding it on the weekend.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

                               Seasoned musicians kept the energy flowing, for nearly four hours.

This afternoon, after performing a spur-of-the-moment errand, I joined a much larger, community-wide barbecue, aimed at bringing in a wealth of non-perishable food for our county Food Bank.  I noticed a sizable amount of provisions in the barrels, in addition to what i brought in.

Despite the threat of rain, we only got a few drops, and I had a pleasant visit with a few other New England “ex-pats”.

An article in today’s paper talked about somebody’s 1,000 Places to See Before You Die”.  I’m peripatetic, but I can’t see going to that extent.  Give me a plate of ” ‘cue” and pleasant company, and I’m set for a while.

Tomorrow will see me at yet another gathering.  Yes, I had a TrimShake in the evening, then went to Planet Fitness and made room for the next round.

The Road to 65, Mile 282: Destiny

3
Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith

September 5, 2015, Prescott- 

Pregnant with destruction, Madame Death lurks

Taking so many, in a single bound,

Young and old,

Rich and blameless,

Light and dark.

Pregnant with promise, Lady Life follows

Honest and tenacious,

Shaken, but certain,

Strong and persevering.

This is for my friends who mourn, and curse, and wait for a glimmer of hope.

I love you all, so much.

The Road to 65, Mile 281: Misogyny

9
Posted by on in Personal goals

September 4, 2015- I grew up in a very hedonistic decade.  It became second nature for me to first notice the physical attributes of the opposite gender, from the time I was eight.  This was pretty much how it continued for me, until I was married, and noticing other women  struck me as extremely rude.

Even so, I also grew up with a sense of profound respect for those girls and women whose intellectual and spiritual attributes equaled or exceeded anything physical.  My mother, aunts and sister have always been well-spoken and mannerly, which added to the threshold of the type of woman to whom I was drawn, and Penny fit every category.  She assessed me in much the same way, and our marriage was one of equals.

I thought of these things, whilst reading more pages of “The Way of The Peaceful Warrior”.  Dan Millman puts forth a farcical tone, with regard to his attraction to women and, almost like the lead male characters in other ’60’s period pieces, he wanders from one pretty woman to another.  He thus faces one comeuppance after another, despite his spiritual progress.

Awhile back, a reader came on one of my posts and chortled, in a rather hostile manner, about what a misogynist I was, for over-using the term “beautiful”, with regard to women. Objectifying, among people of both genders, is a rather deep-rooted aspect of many people’s lives, but it hardly is akin to hatred.

Nonetheless, I have gone deep into my psyche, to look at this matter and to actively work at building more depth to my friendships, beyond what I was already practicing and to see each friend, regardless of gender, as a person who is far more than what she or he first presents.  This is, after all, what sustained my marriage, and what now must sustain all my relationships.

Misogyny and misandry are harsh words, as is racism.  The three terms, I’m afraid, are bandied about, almost too indiscriminately, both by hurt people and by those, such as my erstwhile critic, who would manipulate them and whip up a reactionary frenzy.  We all have work to do, in both gender relations and race relations. I am making progress, and am delighted by the friendships I have both made, and strengthened, over the past few years.  More than likely, my angel approves.

The Road to 65, Mile 280: Driving in Reverse

10
Posted by on in distraction issues, Matters of Faith, Social

September 3, 2015, Chino Valley- I have thought a fair amount about the whole Kim Davis episode.  For those who have been living their bliss to the full, lately, she is the County Clerk, in Morehead, KY, who refuses to grant marriage licenses to gay couples, citing her Christian Faith.  For this defiance of Federal law, she has been jailed.

Thinking people have responded dispassionately to the matter.  I have friends, both gay and straight, who have said that Ms. Davis is getting what she deserves, period, without pontificating on what has been leaked to the public about her private life. I have read other commentary that disparages Kim Davis as a person- going far beyond what seems necessary to support the rule of law.  A commentary I heard on the radio, this morning, goes so far as to raise the matter of the human environment of eastern Kentucky, being somehow a factor in her thought processes.

I have been to eastern Kentucky, to Morehead, Ashland and Maysville, specifically.  I am not especially fond of Hillbilly jokes, any more than I am of disparaging “humour” directed at any particular group.  A professor at Berea College, interviewed this morning, pointed out that people in the mountains and rolling plains of Appalachia are as complex and diverse as people are anywhere else.  I have found that to be so.  There are informed and ignorant folk in any given community, from Uptown Manhattan and Beverly Hills, to the most downtrodden communities in Appalachia or the Mississippi Delta.

Ms. Davis’ issues seem to spring more from stubbornness and fear that her world is being turned upside down (which it is, in many respects), than from a lack of intelligence, or cultural stuntedness.  In that sense, she has plenty of company, all along the political and social spectra.  Attacking members of a given group, for the behaviour of some in the group, is akin to driving in reverse.  Maybe your points will stick, but the likelihood of unforeseen problems is greater.

The Road to 65, Mile 279: The Sky Is No Longer A Limit

4
Posted by on in Inspiration, Personal goals

September 2, 2015, Prescott- Wayne W. Dyer passed to the Spirit Realm on Saturday.  In my early, and some fitful, attempts to make sense of my then-tortuous life, I read two  books recommended me by a paternal uncle:  Thomas Harris’s “I’m Okay, You’re Okay”, and Wayne Dyer’s “Your Erroneous Zones”.  I might have done well to re-read the latter, during the decade 2000-2009.  It would have saved a lot of erroneous behaviour.

Dr. Dyer never gave up on humanity, or on himself, purging his body of leukemia, via natural toxin-flushing diet and exercise, and a regular meditation and self-accounting, leading to needed changes in his daily routine.  It didn’t hurt that he lived for many years on Maui, but no place is perfect, and everyone needs to take responsibility for him/herself.  Wayne Dyer did so, with a most intense elan.

I choose to remember him with a particular quote: 2. “If you believe it will work out, you’ll see opportunities. If you believe it won’t you will see obstacles.”  This has been the driving force of my life, over the past four years, starting with the moment that I was seemingly left with next to nothing, in September, 2011.  He was right; it worked out, and will continue so.

Wayne W. Dyer approached his impending death, early last month, by saying he was looking forward to the journey.  May he shower us all with waves of opportunity-recognizing energy.

The Road to 65, Mile 278: Not Outworn

3
Posted by on in Matters of Faith, Personal goals

September 1, 2015, Prescott-  I walked to work, this morning, and will hopefully do so again tomorrow, though I will need to get to bed soon, if I indeed am serious about that.  I spent a couple of hours with a friend, this evening, talking about the relative need for a renewal of Faith, to the extent of another independent religion.  Basically, I believe Revelation is progressive.  I also believe each individual is responsible for investigating spiritual truth for him/herself.

It therefore follows that there is no outmoded spiritual truth.  Revelation can only expand on the base of teachings revealed beforehand. Traditions and practices, adopted by Man, over time, however, can prove to have outlived their usefulness.  It then falls, to the discerning person of Faith, to adapt to the needs of the times, without falling to the whims of the times.  Thus, it is unlikely that a Faith community will, for example, become the Holy Congregation of Cocaine, or the Sacred Temple of LSD.

I will become more well-versed in the actual Scripture that spells out the case for Progressive Revelation.  Regardless, I fully stand behind everyone’s right to seek truth for themselves.  Now, it’s time to sleep.

The Road to 65, Mile 277: Every New Beginning…..

9
Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

August 31, 2015, Prescott- I almost used the byline, The Universe.  I have begun reading “Way of the Peaceful Warrior”, Dan Millman’s 1980 book which loosely describes his inner journey to a higher functioning self, using the anthropomorphoses of  Agape and Eros, a spirit guide named Socrates and a whimsical, attractive spirit named Joy.

Like Dan, I have spent a lot of my life following the Prescribed Path- following, first, a maudlin, alcohol-and-marijuana-fueled series of efforts at fitting my square peg into society’s round hole.  When I was 25,  I encountered an eleven-year-old boy named Mickey, who got me to quit smoking dope; in exchange for which, he gave up smoking tobacco.  Five years later, I met Penny, my own spiritual guide, who became my wife, and alcohol was cast aside.  At age 58, after a roiling series of life setbacks, I gave up credit cards- and the habit I had developed of blaming others for our family’s ill fortune.  At age 60,  I saw my wife, my Heaven-on-Earth, transition into the spirit who guides me, day by day, no longer kept prisoner in a body that had been failing.

I have experienced beings, and phenomena, that are not easily explained in human terms:  My maternal grandmother’s spirit visiting me, early one morning, when I was ten; my father’s angry spirit pushing my head into a tile wall, in response to a wayward thought I had, about a year after his passing; Penny’s spirit filling our bedroom, as her body lay dying in a hospice, ten miles away; a bright, multi-coloured light flashing frenetically, at a spot called Sipapu (Emergence Place), on the floor of Palo Duro Canyon, as I sat on a nearby bench; my maternal grandfather’s spirit, regarding me with a stern eye, when I stopped shy of climbing to the top ledge of Cathedral Rock, in Sedona.  These are experiences that many would regard as hallucinations, but they all occurred during daylight, when I was awake, and I haven’t used mind-altering substances since 1981.

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end”.  So goes a line from the song, “Closing Time”, by SemiSonic.  I see this, in terms of each day, week, month and year.  I have seen my own transition from married caretaker to wandering widower.  Now I am becoming a solitary seedsower, concentrating on helping to build a community. There will be other transitions ahead; other tides, rolling in, rolling out.