Yes and No

18

November 15, 2017, Prescott-

A fellow blogger posted, this afternoon, that no one is entitled to rights, by decree.  Yes, and no:  Yes, a child has the right to a healthy diet, a safe and warm place to live, a solid, fundamental education and above all, loving adults by whom to be raised.  No, one does not have the automatic right to a mate, a good paying job, a full refrigerator and pantry or a large contingent of friends.  Those are things one earns by dint of character and hard work.

I was raised to know that my parents were  there for me, that I had responsibilities that went with being part of a family, that boys and girls were equal in the sight of God, and that didn’t go away when we reached adulthood.  As much as my immature, flawed self disliked it, I had to wait, a long time, to meet the love of my life.  My mature, flawed self does not regret the wait.

Sometimes, the price of the good in our lives is paid up front- through suffering and seemingly innumerable setbacks  Other times, the good comes first, and, as with the Biblical Job, torments and sorrows follow.  I have learned, especially from my Native American ancestors, that hard times make one stronger and good times make one secure enough to withstand the next set of hard times.  After 600-800 years of collective difficulty, Native Americans are still here.  After 500 years of oppression and distrust, African-Americans are still here.  Woman, collectively, has endured millennia of being regarded as a subordinate being.  She is more present than ever.

Those who say each individual must earn certain rights and prerogatives are correct, to a point.  Let them also, however, consider what rights each man, woman and child has already earned, by dint of character, suffering and, yes, hard work.  To dismiss this, is to affirm the claim of the tyrant, the supremacist.

If

10

November 14, 2017, Prescott-

If I am chosen to serve as a co-ordinator for international students,

I would work to make their time here a cornerstone of the rest of their lives.

If my son safely completes his time in service,

I know he will make a huge mark in the world,

in the time afterward.

If it be God’s Will, I shall not be moved aside

from generous acts of service,

both here and far afield.

If there be a clear sense of reality,

the good people of the world

will find a way,

to end imbalance,

for Puerto Rico,

Kurdistan,

Rakhine Province,

Sri Lanka,

Syria,

South Sudan,

Rockport- Port Aransas,

central Appalachia,

the Navajo Nation,

Uyuni,

Haiti,

Chicago.

If  justice prevails,

those being marginalized

will see solutions,

that honour their

creativity,

their intelligence,

their dignity.

Dreams in a Ceramics Dome

4

November 13, 2017, Prescott-

(The idea behind last Saturday night’s Dream Gathering was to generate somnolent energy, in one small space.  It’s not certain just how much this happened, but here are some dream-thoughts, that came my way, in a quiet Ceramics Dome, a little ways from the disrupted gathering.)

Kathryn Heaton,

a child of eight,

somehow lost

on the way

to the home

in which you’d

lived,

since age three.

You had never

seen me before,

but took my hand.

My GPS memory

led us to

your grandmother’s house.

At the walkway,

a teen she-wolf

stood and told me

not to trust you.

The snarling girl

had issues with you,

who was half her age.

I turned towards

the front door,

and you were gone.

Having slipped past,

and gone- somewhere.

I followed the werepup,

down a gypsum trail.

My shoes had disappeared.

As I recalled,

where I had left them,

a fifteen year-old,

another girl I had been

helping,

confronted me,

saying that my advice

was bogus.

She was with her

new boyfriend,

who said he knew

which way she should

turn.

I told her,

“You will find your own right.”

Have you found right,

and peace,

Kathryn Heaton?

(All characters in this piece are fictional.)

 

Convergence, Night 2 and Day 3

7

November 12, 2017, Arcosanti-

Conflict, like anything that exists, can only do so, when fed.  Among the foods of conflict are ego, emotional imbalance and inattention to one’s surroundings. There were several opportunities for conflict to be nourished, over the past fifteen hours.  No one chose to do so, and the most irritating behaviours of some among us, merely passed to review, for consideration in planning the next Convergence.

The Dreaming session did not proceed as planned. Suffice it to say that an activity antithetical to meditation and focus was placed immediately next to us.  The Dreaming session’s organizers chose to carry on, in spite of the noise next door.  I moved to a quieter area and spent the night in blanketed comfort and in intense dreaming, if alone.  Arcosanti is vortical, in that respect. Those who stayed in the original site reported that the noisy group stopped their interference, right at midnight.  They did not, however, dream as deeply as they might have.  It is interesting, though, that no one persisted, beyond an initial protest, with regard to the noisy neighbours.  Such conflict would have been the undoing of Convergence, which was hardly anyone’s wish.

This morning, breakfast took longer to prepare, than expected.  No one raised an unnecessary ruckus, despite the lateness of the morning.  This was even true when the mesquite flour pancakes proved a particular headache for the cooks.  Those of us who really WANTED the pancakes accepted a batch that were a bit mushy in the middle.  Elevation has its culinary drawbacks, extended time for baking being among them.  Again, conflict didn’t happen.

I made several new friends, these past few days.  Standing out among them are this morning’s breakfast companions:  The men, women and children of Dharma Family Farm, who were visiting from their abode in Paulden, about an hour north of Prescott.  It’s been awhile since I’ve had the joy of observing babies and toddlers, in serene parental hands, experiencing several aspects of their world. There are some very bright and caring folks coming up the ladder of life, in this generation named, by the Media, i-Gen.  I will surely take the families up on their invitation to visit the farm, in the next few weeks.

This brings up one last point.  At least three mothers openly nursed their babies. Not one of  the five of us men, who were at the  two tables, gave so much as sidelong glance.  Our conversations involved the women, with eye contact-period.  (For the record, I believe nursing is the most natural thing in the world, and one of the best health practices.)

Yes, conflict requires feeding, in order to exist.  It’s time for a starvation diet.

Convergence, Days 1 and 2

13

November 10-11, 2017, Arcosanti-

The past two days have taken this loving wanderer far deeper into my past and how it has affected my subconscious, than any prior event in which I’ve been involved.

In between volunteer sets in the Cafe, I joined one of the workshops in the Healing segment of Convergence.  A session entitled Re-Patterning addressed the very issue that was weighing on me, yesterday afternoon.  My feeling that I was not trusted by people, very much, even in the context of the workshop participants, was allowed to be brought into focus.  After establishing that a few breaches of trust  on my part, mostly online, over the past few years, were still playing and replaying in the background, there was an exercise in which deep breathing and muscle resistance were used.  This brought to light that, when my family moved when I was four, I left someone behind, who I considered a good friend.  Somehow, in the fullness of  life in the new neighbourhood, this never entered into closure.

I have largely spent my energies in two divergent ways, since that time.  On the one hand, I am always open to new experiences, and visiting new places.  On the other hand, when off work, especially since Penny passed on,  my tendency is to occupy myself alone.  I have inherited the “comfortable in my own space” mindset of my mother and maternal grandfather.  Yet, there is more to it than that.  Yesterday’s session established the role of unresolved loss in the course my life has taken, all these years.

I feel like a great weight has been lifted, and am not as tense, in this large gathering, as I was yesterday, before the session.  I worked two long shifts in the Cafe, last night and early afternoon today.  I still find myself alone this evening, but that is more a function of having left Convergence this evening, to attend a Veteran’s Day dinner in Prescott, then returning here, after dark.

As indicated earlier, being at a large gathering, overnight, is new to me.  I won’t retreat into my own space and shut out the world.  This change is mainly for the sake of taking part in a group meditation and dreaming event, which will be more easily explained after the fact than now.  No, I will not be using psychotropic drugs.  Where I go will be where the universe naturally takes me, much like any other night..

Stay tuned.

 

In-Crowds and Outliers

7

November 9, 2017, Prescott-

For most of my life, I’ve not made much distinction between groups of people:  Neighbourhoods, social classes, occupations, educational levels, generations, nationalities.  None of those have kept me from interacting, wandering about, learning what I could from, and about, each and all.

This has led to a rich set of experiences- occasionally with the loneliness that comes from not being too close to any one group.  That aloneness has been altered, somewhat, since I entered the Baha’i Faith, with Penny’s encouragement, in early 1981.  I don’t strictly adhere to socializing only with Baha’is.  That is not in keeping with our Faith’s tenet to “associate with all peoples, in fellowship and harmony”, a trait with which I was born.

It is no surprise, then, that the Universe should be bringing, to our area, the Convergence at Arcosanti.  For three days, a large number of people will gather at the cooperative community, 45 miles northeast of Prescott.  There will be symposia and smaller breakout groups, all manner of people camping, socializing and forming new bonds, across all manner of divides.  There will be, I expect, conservatives as well as liberals; craftsmen as well as scholars; Christians as well as atheists and agnostics; the clear-eyed and the wide-eyed.

I will be there, at least through tomorrow night, and again on Saturday. If it feels right, I will pitch my tent and stay the night.  As a volunteer, I will be able to get a keen sense of  how well the stated mission is being achieved, and establish new bonds of my own. Besides, when Woodstock happened, I was a bumbling Private, in Army Postal School, at Fort Harrison, IN.  This is a more sober, focused variation on the theme of transformational gatherings.  I want to do my part, to help get it right this time.

Why I’ll Go Back Again

12

November 6, 2017, Prescott-

I’ll go back to Viet Nam, about five years from now.

Nothing I  remember is likely to be there.

Yet, I like to see how a nation grows.

I’ll go back to central Maine, in a year, or three.

The people to whom I caused some pain,

are mostly gone away.

Yet, it will be good to make some sort of amends.

I’ll go back to Israel, within the next ten years.

The places I visited, thirty-five years ago,

will be there for centuries to come,

yet, I need to approach them,

with greater reverence.

I’ll go back to Massachusetts,

at least once a year,

until the time comes for

my first angel to take flight.

Yet, I suspect that will be

some years in the future.

I’ll go back to Korea,

sometime in the near future.

Yet, I will be a prodigal son,

both atoning for breaches of manners

and honouring the roots that

my own seed might put down.

I’ll return to the American Southwest,

each time I need to pick myself up.

As  here, the desert and mountains

inform as to the way to renewal.

(Note to the nervous ones:  I’m not moving anywhere, any time soon.)

Jewel of The Creek

6

November 4, 2017, Cave Creek-

I was due for another visit to SunFlour, today, but the notice was clear:  Closed for Vacation.  I wish the ladies a special, relaxing time-off.  Today is Wild West Day, in Cave Creek, and there is much that’s joyful about a visit to Local Jonny’s, especially in the evening, so off I went.

Looking for a trail, to get back in the groove, I followed Spur Cross Road, noticing a trail that hugged the road for about 1/2 mile, before veering off towards the mountains to the north of town.  I wasn’t going to take on a lengthy route, so on towards Spur Cross Ranch it was.

About 1/4 mile shy of the Ranch, I came upon Jewel of the Creek Preserve.  This 26-acre unit is owned by Desert Foothills Land Trust, which is dedicated to augmenting the conservation efforts of the State of Arizona and Maricopa County.

Dragonfly Loop turned out to be perfect, for what I wanted to accomplish.  I chose to stick with the eastern half of the Loop, and thus got some good vibes from the dry Cave Creek.  The trailhead is here, and I encountered a family of four, who were having a professional photo shoot, not far from here.

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The mountains to the west are part of Cave Creek Regional Park, which also has Go John Trail, a moderate trail that introduced me to Cave Creek, two years ago.

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The area that is drained by Cave Creek features Gray Basalt steps and short walls.

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Here, the Dragonfly has a mild ascent, before going back down to Cave Creek, crossing the dry wash.  It’s not always so, but Aug-tober saw zero rainfall.SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

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Swallows and other desert-nesting songbirds have left for the season.  They left a couple of last season’s domiciles behind.

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After passing by another hiker, who was reading passages from the Bible, I came upon this little cave, in the creek bed wall. No animal seemed to be using it as a den, but I didn’t examine the facility too closely.

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An abode of a different sort beckoned, just beyond the trailhead.   I believe this is the old Spur Cross Ranch House, now a caretaker’s residence.SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

I will be back, over the next several months, to further explore the Preserves and Regional Park, as well as to give Local Jonny’s more business.  The slaw sliders, accompanied by mellow guitar tunes, were a perfect little ending to this exemplary Fall outing.

Sutherland Springs

2

November 5, 2017, Prescott-

My post about a visit to Cave Creek will be up soon.  In the meantime, another Sunday, and more mayhem.

Upwards of thirty people may be dead,

and 30 others with life-threatening injuries.

All they set out to do, was worship.

Someone else had a different plan.

Bring on Armageddon.

Others responded to his act,

predictably-

blaming the Government,

blaming Trump,

blaming the Democrats,

even blaming anyone who

showed outrage at the horrific act.

This last, shades of post- Sandy Hook,

post- Las Vegas.

“It can’t be the shooter’s fault.

Maybe there was no shooter at all.

Maybe the Government made it all up.

Maybe it’s just a hologram.”

Tell that to the wounded.

Tell that to the families

who will be burying

their dead.

Tell that to all those

who have INDEED

lost their children,

parents,

siblings,

neighbours,

friends.

Denial means continuity.

 

 

Day of the Dead

4

November 2, 2017, Prescott-

Hispanic families, in Mexico and elsewhere, observe this day as a way to honour their departed ancestors and strengthen the ties between this world and the hereafter.

As I looked out the window, this morning, I swear I could see Penny’s image, and that of her father, looking back at me, in a tree across the way.

Some have gone on, this past year, who had roles, large and small, in my life.

Uncle George Boivin, one of my last surviving father figures, gave me a paving stone from Boston’s old Scollay Square, which was transformed into Government Center, when I was about 12.  He was ever available, when I was in Colorado, to set me straight, in the difficult  2 1/2 years, immediately following Penny’s passing.  His mind was sharp, until the end, and those doll houses live on.

Al Tercero served our American Legion, at the post and district level, for over 30 years.  Now he is in what we call Post Everlasting.  The Honour Guard he helped establish is still the finest in Arizona.

George Marchessault, also a Past Commander and Honour Guard stalwart, stayed true to the Legion code and was ever present at our gatherings, on almost a weekly basis, until his last illness confined him to rest.

Bea Cronin, a grand-aunt’s sister-in-law, was always outside watching the Saugus High football team, from her back yard. There was an open door and welcome to the kids who knew her sons, and to us, her far extended family, when we were in the neighbourhood.

Ivaloo Mac Vicar was always in the hall, when I was passing to classes in seventh grade, admonishing us boys to WALK down the stairs, ONE step at a time.  She made it to the Century Mark, and a bit beyond, as did-

Evelyn Porter Anderson, who gave my mother a shot at success as a hairdresser and cosmetologist, in the uncertain days after World War II.  She never stopped doting on the five of us, until blindness and infirmity kept her confined to her last home.

Bernis Hanlon taught me, in fifth grade, to rely on my own wits and to start building  layers on my thin skin.  It took twenty more years for that lesson to really stick, yet less time for her next life lesson, appreciation of fine drama, to be absorbed, six years later, when she was the  High School Theater Advisor, who didn’t mind my being on the periphery of that club’s efforts.

Firuz Kazemzadeh was a high-level scholar of the Baha’i Faith, and one of our most accomplished mentors, serving in so many capacities, legal and educational.  His was always a bright and friendly face, at national and international gatherings, as well as at “our own” Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference, held annually in Phoenix.

So many others have come and gone- and some day a person or two will write of my time on this Earth.  There is much to do, as yet, so let it not be too soon.