Monthly Archives: December 2018

Integration of Masculine and Feminine, and That Solstice Thing

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Posted by on in collaborating, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

December 21, 2018, Prescott-

I love balance. Today featured several imbalances in the wider world, not the least of which is what happens every year at this time, with regard to day and night.  The  Winter Solstice has power to heal, though, by initiating a gradual, minute-a-day increase in daylight and by summoning so much collective spiritual energy.  It is no accident that Holy Days based on hope and resilience:  Hanukkah and Christmas, occur during this time.  It is also no accident that those whose concerns are primarily material suffer so many setbacks during December.  This last month of the year has been tough on the governmental and financial sectors, for four of the past five years-with 2016 being an anomaly, for the world of finance.

Let me get to the main point of today, however.  This evening, I spent ninety minutes on a conference call with four women.  The topic was the integration of masculine and feminine energy, which exists in each human being.  As we concurred in the discussion, this is not a gender matter nor is it a question of sexual orientation.  I am happy to be a man, have never been sexually attracted to other males and have always valued my nurturing energy as much as I have my building energy.  Every other person on Earth has both, and those who have experienced the most lifelong success are those who have tapped into both, on a regular basis.

I pondered my current friendships, as I listened to the women and offered some of my own thoughts.  Of the ten people I regard as my best friends, outside of immediate and extended family, four are women who are in committed relationships.  Three others are single women, to whom I am either not physically attracted or who are not so drawn to me, and three are men.  So, romance is not a factor in my present circle of friends.  This, in one who has been bonkers over the female of our species, from the age of eight-and probably earlier, is quite a self-revelation.

The other thing that occurred to me during this discussion, is that I have arrived at a point in my life where my only concern, regarding others, is that I am prepared to do everything possible to help them advance.  This is true  regardless of any physical, mental, or circumstantial status of an individual.  Many, if not most, of the two rising generations are already at this level of understanding.  Perhaps this is why I feel such a psychic closeness to the young.

It all boils down to intuition, and to self-awareness. I credit Dr. Mona Lisa Schulz, whose book, “Awakening Intuition”, started me on this path of self-examination; Ms. Corina Luna Dea, whose online group has offered boundless insights into the process of self-awareness; Ms. Medea Bavarella Chichik, who co-moderated this evening’s call; and a person, who shall remain anonymous, whose challenges of  two months ago led me to a long-overdue self-examination, as to the level of my presence in day-to-day interactions.

The work of integrating feminine and masculine energy is ongoing, and as I said above, it is independent of  both gender identification and sexual orientation.  It is about the total human being.

 

 

 

 

A War On Main Street?

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Personal Values, Striving

December 20, 2018, Prescott-

Is there a war against Main Street?

I have read some commentaries to that effect.

The financial sector is headed towards a period of decline.

This always gets turned into “The Big Boys are out to get us,

and right in time for Christmas, yet!!”

It happened in 2008,

and many small investors lost a fair amount.

This largely was blamed on the Federal Reserve Bank,

and on fearful large investors,

who took their money and ran.

It happened in 1929,

and everyone got clobbered.

This one will likely last two or three years,

and so I will keep on working,

for two of those years,

and will largely behave,

as if I have nary a dime.

Behind the scenes,

many people,

including me,

will be working with people

smarter in these matters than I,

and safeguarding our portfolios.

Money is like water.

It seems to disappear,

but where does it actually go?

I will find out,

and get my foot in that door.

Money is like water.

It never really dissipates.

It just shifts form,

and changes locations.

This, too, shall pass.

Open your eyes,

Main Street,

and don’t worry

about the Big Dogs.

You can beat them,

at their own game.

 

 

Some Spinach Meal Ideas

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Slow Food

December 19, 2018, Prescott-

I get tired of the arrogance of the high and mighty.

This makes me look to simple and joyful things,

as a diversion.

Spinach has always been one of my favourite foods.

I will not offer recipes and cooking instructions,

but spinach goes well with:

Feta cheese, especially when baked for 20 minutes,

in a steel or aluminum dish;

Peppers and onions, in a skillet;

Filleted fish, wrapped inside the greenery;

Ground beef, lamb, bison or elk, green onions, sweet peppers,

in a soup, prepared in a crock pot;

As a layer, in a five layer lasagna;

Diced and combined with ricotta,

as a manicotti stuffing.

In summer, spinach is a fine staple,

in any hot weather salad.

Spinach:  Not just for Popeye, anymore!

 

 

Season’s Greetings

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Posted by on in children, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 18, 2018, Prescott-

So now, my full days of school, for 2018, are in the rear view mirror.  Three abbreviated school days remain, before we all take a break for the period which, for many, is a time of celebration and revelry.  For others, it will be a time of remembrance of a Great Being, Whose sacrifice and teachings are fully intended to bring peace to those who understand them.  For still others, it will be a time of lying low and making do with very little.  Then, the Gregorian clock will reset itself, and we will have 2019 AD/CE. (I am old school, and prefer the former, in figuring time since the Birth of the Christ.  Further disclosure: We Baha’is determine our place in time, dating from the Declaration of al-Bab, in May, 1844 and thus will refer to next year as 176 Baha’i Era, or B.E.  For general social purposes, though, I will continue to date my posts by the Gregorian system.)

During this period of  revelry, rest, reflection and resilience, I wish these things, to the following:

Seniors (75 and onward):  May your curiosity continue and may it bring you the recognition and relevance that ought to come with accrued wisdom .  The elder among you raised our generation and can take large credit for the best that we have been able to offer the world, through your parenting.  The younger among you are our older cousins, siblings and mentors.  It would have been harder growing up without your shared experiences and occasional babysitting. You remain friends, and vital presences in my life-Mom, Uncle Jim and Aunt Jackie, Aunt Janet, Aunt Carol, both Aunts Helen, Aunt Gail, Uncle Jerry,  and my online friends and older cousins, (you know well to whom I am referring).

My Contemporaries (55-74):  My siblings, many cousins, classmates, immediate elders and juniors, and a good many of my friends-We have gone through many of the same experiences, hard times, great celebrations, triumphs and tragedies, victories and losses.  We have seen Woodstock and the Men on the Moon; the gradual “shrinking” of Planet Earth, and changes that we never anticipated. Considering that my first phone call, to my late Aunt Hazel, was aborted by a shrill voice telling me to get off the phone, as it was a party line “used  by grown-ups, for important matters”. I did as I was told, and remember my mother’s eyes rolling, as she quipped, “important matters, like everyone else’s business!” Now, the picture phones and calls between vehicles, of which I once dreamed, are de rigeur.  May our days not be hamstrung by health-related woes, to the extent that we can use natural remedies, exercise and a well-varied diet, to keep us going.  May we continue to love those older and younger than we; and because we first know to love ourselves.

Millennials and Generation X (20-54):  You have brought many of the ideas of which I once dreamed, as a child and teen, into being.  Many of you were my students and counselees.  I helped a fair number, confused some and let others down, but loved all of you.  Among you are my nieces and nephews, and my own beloved son and daughter-in-law.  You grew up in my hometown of Saugus; or in the woods of central Maine;  or in the elite families who sent you to  a boarding school in the midst of the Sonoran Desert; or on the Navajo and Hopi nations, reared by loving, but often struggling extended families, who gave me more than I could ever repay; or in the western Sonoran Desert, a string of communities that gave newcomers a wary, if cordial, welcome-even when several were newcomers, themselves; or you grew up, as our son did, moving from town to town and making the best of life, even when it felt lonely.  I wish you a future far better than the recent past has shown you, and know that you have it within, to make wondrous things happen.

Generation Z (Newborns to 19)- I am thrilled to see the older among you come of age, shed the misgivings of your elders and take on the challenges that the Universe has sent your way, either because of the nature of life or because of what the rest of us have managed to create.  Every generation hands down both blessings and banes to its progeny, so do forgive us and know that you are also very much loved.  You have come into my life, as my working years are winding down and you have given me the confidence, the sense that my volunteer, travel and, quite possibly, grandparent years will be as bounteous and fulfilling as all that has gone before. May we all greet and nurture the generations  that come after you, as well.

To all, I treasure my time among you and may it long yet continue. A Merry Christmas, Bountiful Kwanzaa, Joyful Solstice and Healthy, Prosperous and Happy 2019, to each and every one.

 

Foreshadowing

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Personal Values, Striving

December 17, 2018, Prescott-

This time of year always seems to feature a battle between those who just want to celebrate and share the good things in life, and those disquiet, greedy people, whose only satisfaction comes from depriving others of their possessions.

I’ve already spoken of the larger entities in our midst, and how they are robbing hard-working people, as we speak.  There are also scammers-among whom are those whose outstretched hands appear on our screens, wanting money for one questionable cause or another.

In 2011, while I was still reeling from my loss, someone got the drop on me and appealed to my sense of compassion, getting a small portion of my available funds,  This ended up inconveniencing a couple of family members, who ponied up what I needed.  I was glad to reimburse them, in relatively short order.

This sort of thing is damaging, both to my credibility and to my sense of fair play.  So, it is with the utmost caution that I am rejecting any requests for funds, without first doing uber diligence.  The season is rife with both deserving and rapacious people. 2011’s difficulties, still unpaid by the “borrower”, foreshadowed what could happen again, if that lesson had been lost on me.

It hasn’t been.

Boomer-Rang

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

December 16, 2018, Prescott-

At this morning’s breakfast, a fellow Legionnaire voiced his occasional plaint about “the kids”:  “I’m glad that I’m at the age I am now.  I don’t think I want to see the world, after the younger generation has been in charge.”

Ho-hum!  This man is a member of “The Silent Generation”, those born between 1935-48.  Another member of that generation retorted that this is how it always has been- everyone dumps on the young.  I concur with that last assessment, remembering the reaction of both the aforementioned age group, and the GI Generation who preceded, to the antics of us Baby Boomers.

I admit it- I was too crazy about girls to care about much else, before joining the Army and learning  a goodly amount of discipline.  Even then, lovely  female faces and physiques had my near full attention, when I didn’t have a weapon in my hands, wasn’t in military formation or wasn’t focused on keeping accountable mail in a safe and secure channel of post.  My work history, though, has been a quite fair record of achievement and at least I have maintained the work ethic my parents instilled in all of us.

Penny and I imparted that same work ethic in our son, a Millennial. He has hit his stride in the military and has never ignored his considerable responsibilities, especially in his late teens and twenties.  I have a higher opinion of Millennials than even some later Gen-X’ers, those who were born in between our two generations.  No one actually seems to like the generation that comes right after them.  I had a cynical view of Generation X, until I actually worked with some of its members and  saw that there is, in reality, no full-on generation of slackers.  The world won’t let this happen, and few people like the results of slacking:  Poverty, debt and an authoritarian regime.

From what I’ve seen, I am certain we will, as I’ve said before, be just fine-with all of the generations working together.  Millennials and Generation Z will make it happen, just as we did.

December’s Ides

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Posted by on in American Legion, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual

December 15, 2018, Prescott-

In Renaissance times, as we know from Shakepeare’s Macbeth, the dividing point in a month was called “the Ides”.  This hearkened from a time when all months, save February, had 30 days,  and the 15th served as the dividing point.

We’ve reached this point in December, in which the work-a-day cares and tribulations of the first two weeks, being as they are combined with holiday planning, give steadily away to the mix of moods and accent on celebrating that characterize the period, right up to January 1.

I spent the first part of today helping to lay wreaths on the grave sites of those who served in the military or were married to those who did.  There were about eighty people, of all ages, doing this, following a forty-minute ceremony of patriotic music and short speeches, culminating with a 21-gun salute and playing of “Taps” (Il Silenzio).

Wreaths Across America is a national program of wreath-laying at the graves of those laid to rest in military cemeteries, on the third Saturday in December.  It began with a wreath-maker in Harrington, ME, in 1992 and became a national effort in 2007. One of my maternal uncles, who served with distinction in the U.S. Navy, during World War II, was among those who helped organize the national effort.  I learned of his involvement in this, upon his passing, in 2010 and have been involved in this effort, myself, since 2011.

The rest of this Ides of December saw me get out the last of my family Christmas cards and put up a hand-made wreath on my front door.  The weather outside is far from frightful, but I aim to keep the atmosphere, around home and work at least, delightful.

Tear Memories, Fire Sales and Recovery

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Posted by on in children, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Striving, Travel

December 13-14, 2018, Prescott-

I’ve been back at work, these past two days, getting easily into the routine again.  As my crewmates read my posts here and on Facebook, there was a brief welcome back, with little conversation about the journey. We focus on the matters at hand, which are certainly enough on any given day.

It must have been quite a contrast in those schools which have endured the twin demons of school shootings and their accompanying choruses of denials/attacks on survivors and victims’ families.  The fourteenth of December, a full week after the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor, has its own, equally horrific commemoration- the massacre at Sandy Hook.  There will never be a time when the survivors of this insanity do not shed tears.  There will hopefully be a time, and soon, when those of us who truly love children can forgive those who threatened the families of the shooting victims.  That time, at least for me, has not arrived, and I’m still vigilant.

Fridays are also  days when investors take to selling off their  stocks, perhaps more than on any other day of the week.  I know the sales have to originate on Wednesdays, with the cashout being completed at week’s end, but it seems to me that this is an ersatz payday.    The stock market is no place for a fire sale.

I have now fully recovered from a couple of setbacks, earlier in the year.  Finances are sound, and will have to sustain me for the rest of my life, so I will continue to maintain a measure of frugality.  I again have a passport, so prudent overseas travel can happen, to Korea, next Spring, and certain other places, two years hence.    Travel and frugality are not mutually exclusive.

 

Back On Track

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Posted by on in impediments, Personal Values, Social, Travel

December 12,2018, Phoenix-

I got back in time to see the sun cast its brilliant hues, but being in the baggage claim area, with my camera in one of the bags- there are only the images left in my head.

The flight back was quotidian, with a curious, playful infant breaking the monotony, at the outset of our departure from Reagan National to Dallas.  That’s fine; I’ll take a captivating child, followed by crickets, any day of the week.

Dallas offered a hearty Italian sub, as my combined lunch and dinner.  I haven’t had a real Italian cold cut submarine, in about 30 years.  I was surprised that, with the line at neighbouring Chik-Fil_A spilling into the concourse, there were only three of us at Campisi’s, which holds its own-to this child of a largely Italian neighbourhood in the Northeast.

Dallas-Phoenix was also a full plane, yet I scored a second window seat in a row.  The middle seat went to the male half of a young couple, who were oblivious to anyone but one another, save for handing me my complementary coffee.  I got further into Ken Follett’s “Winter of the World”, on this return flight, so it was win-win.

The drive back looks to be uneventful, now that the rush hour traffic has abated on AZ 51, north of Bell Road.  I will take my usual Cave Creek Rd-Carefree Highway-7th Street-New River Road route to I-17, since AZ 101 is almost always in Crush Hour mode until nearly 7:30, on weeknights. Phoenix residents will know of which I speak.

 

The Light Switches Channels

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Posted by on in Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

December 11, 2018, Arlington, VA.- 

The day broke, cold but sunny, as twenty family members gathered, to say farewell to their mother figure, who had struggled, her last six years on Earth, to maintain a say in what went on with her life, and those of her beloved children and grandchildren.

Ruth Faust Fellman had to deal with her own failing health, thankfully being aided, day to day,  by a dedicated youngest daughter, a team of paraprofessionals and other family members as we were able to visit, at least now and then.

She left the struggle behind, in late October, with her spirit and her family waiting patiently, one more time, as this day of interment approached.  She will rest with her husband of 64 years, on both this earthly plane and in the spirit realm.  We who remain in the state of “waking”, physical activity know that truly being awake entails life far beyond what we know here.  “Bunny”, her husband (my father-in-law) and their oldest daughter (my wife) are watching us, and helping more than we sometimes realize.

After the Jewish burial service, we the mourners quickly parted company, all except me leaving Arlington, for their homes.  I stayed behind, with my flight back to Arizona not scheduled until tomorrow.  Dinner with a friend, in midtown Washington, would take up the slack, somewhat, and give me an excuse to spend at least a few hours in the nation’s capital.

My main reason for being here, though, was accomplished and Mom’s ninety-two years of service to family and community were suitably honoured.  The tombstone shown below will soon be replaced, by one that pays homage to both husband and wife. I will continue, as she admonished, to give back.

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