The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 81: No Dichotomy

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August 20, 2020-

I have written, on another medium, about both regarding the right of a human being to care for own body to be sacred and the right of a child to life as also being sacred. I see no contradiction between the two, but our society has allowed itself to view the two as somehow at variance, in certain cases.

I see this as one result of our movement away from the concept of the sacred. This does not specifically have to do with “unchurching” or movement away from long-established organized religions. It has more to do with the rising of uncertainty, of insecurity in people’s lives, in this time of massive, and sometimes instantaneous, transition. It opens the door for a relatively small number of people, with untoward views of how to attain population control, to seize control of a debate which did not even need to happen.

There will always be adults who are uncomfortable, even hostile, in the company of children. There will always be those who don’t understand the nurturance of infants and toddlers. They were either mistreated, or not treated at all, in their own infancy and childhood, or are of a temperament that doesn’t mesh well with the organic nature of child behaviour. They prize strict order and predictability in their world. These are the vanguard of the Abortion Lobby, and of the nascent Neo-Eugenics movement, which seeks to bring about social acceptance for the killing of newborns with certain disabilities.

That this segment of society should link arms with the political Left, that element who have, for so long been associated with inclusion, and who have been in the vanguard of genuine progress in the advancement of women, people of colour, sexual minorities and immigrants, is both cognitively dissonant and profoundly concerning. The linchpin here seems to be the right of a woman to decide what happens to her own body, a right that has always existed in the sight of God, but has, for so long a time, been slighted by patriarchal thinking.

A person who has been relegated to the back of the line, in self-determination, who has not been loved and nurtured by those around her, who feels totally alone and friendless, is easy prey for those who hold a skewed understanding of population control. Abortion of a pregnancy, which in cases of an unviable fetus may well be medically necessary, is now being promoted as a mere option, an elective procedure, one of many ways by which a person may exercise birth control. A subgroup of the Abortion Lobby has even hit upon the aborted fetus as a resource- a source of organs to be harvested, a source of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, a source of stem cells for research and for vaccines.

Women who are pregnant, regardless of circumstances, need and deserve to be completely enveloped in a culture of love. They neither need nor deserve judgement, from a standpoint of shallow morality, nor do they need or deserve to be the foils of those who, either consciously or unconsciously, detest infants and children, seeing the innocent and vulnerable as simply a means to an end. A loving culture feels the pain, sorrow and confusion of a woman or girl who is at wit’s end. A loving culture presents, and discusses with her, all the options available in this most personal and delicate of circumstances. It honours her informed and well-considered decision. It helps her heal.

Indeed, it is a shorter step than many in the Abortion Lobby realize, from the practice of their craft to the organized trafficking of children, a phenomenon from which the majority of abortionists would, no doubt, recoil in horror, but which nonetheless is a clear and present danger.

We, as a society, have one long-term choice-to return to a place in our hearts where all life is sacred.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 80: As Decades Have Passed

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August 19, 2020-

I have been pondering, since early this morning, as to the nature of my decades, lived thus far.

Young mother, anticipation, rough birth.

World still aflame, born under the element of Fire

Walking alone at age of three; hairbrush to the backside

Loved pictures and songs; pile of 45s in a memorized order

Family in a ramshackle house, which soon became a decent home

Three became four, then five.

First grade, morning bell rung by teacher

Second grade, more families in the neighbourhood

Third grade, began reading like a pro; teacher was like an angel

Fourth grade- Sometime tyranny, worn-out, angry Reading Instructor, Long Division

1950-59 was the decade of inception.

Fifth grade- Hypersensitive, wary of the Principal, death of Grandma

Sixth grade-Attention Deficit Disorder, hospitalized for colon issues

Junior High School- Mischief, girls mattered, one fire followed another,

High School- Best years ever, I-the Individual, clueless about attire, scattered work habits

Post-Graduate- Flubbed first semester, Demon Alcohol, lack of coordination, Army Basic Training, Postal Clerk at Fort Myer, Saw Moon Landing, Missed Woodstock

1960-1969 was the decade of formation.

Army Years- Lost buddies in VietNam, protest marches and intel duty, personal investigation of combat theater, clueless in Sydney

Community College- Series of dates, series of flubs, community involvement, living away from home, living back at home, Quebec-Ville and Montreal, hitchhiking across the continent

University- Dorm year, rooming house, apartment life, incompetent as editor, successful as student, so/so as teaching intern, summer hotel work, Bachelor of Arts in Psychology

Maine years- Staying distant when asked, substitute teaching, tutoring, Teacher Aide, more Demon Alcohol, visits with extended family, two siblings married, all over the state and the Maritimes

Villa School- Saved by the West, attempted Math instruction, dormitory watch, all over the West and the country, San Diego and Disneyland

1970-1979 was the decade of instruction.

Graduate School years- Town House in a quiet neighbourhood, Zuni, Baha’i Faith, first real adult love, Master of Arts in Education (Counseling)

Tuba City Years- School Counselor, Newlywed, Pilgrimage to the Holy Land, London and Canterbury, death of Nana, death of a dentist friend, deaths of children, Guyana, wedding of Glenn & Barbie, Pine Ridge, Omaha Nation, Columbus Youth Conference, death of my father

Jeju Island- House husband for a semester, Work Visa wait time, grappling with cultural baggage, Baha’is of Korea, troubled expatriates, Visiting Professor of English, training teachers, birth of a son, back and forth across the Pacific, Baha’i International Pioneer

1980-89 was the decade of maturation.

Jeju 2.0- Facing the culture of sexual harassment, empowering women students, enjoying life with a toddler, standing at the Demarcation Line, honouring our elders

Navajo-Hopi 2.0- More School Counseling, active child protection, rescuing two girls, saving our son, losing youngest brother, addressing ambition, Lady the Dachshund, Baha’i homefront pioneer, Principal in two schools, Keams Canyon, Jeddito, Chilchinbeto, Salome

1990-99 was the decade of professional success.

The Active Urban years- Y2K, Mingus Mountain Academy, Kingswood Estates, Mesa Community College, substitute teaching, El Mirage Elementary, Fuhr chiropractic, Phoenix Baha’i newsletter, Sierra Pines Apartments, the house on Solar Drive

The Caretaker Years- Penny’s two falls, my fall into despair, more substitute teaching, WIS International, Southwest Network, Ironwood Elementary, Palo Verde Middle School, poor career choices, ASU West, President Obama at Penny’s graduation, two wrecked cars, Dr. Yau, hyperbaric oxygen, Stem Cell Therapy, six family weddings, Aram graduates High School

2000-09 was the decade of reckoning

Caretaking and Losing- Trillium Specialty Hospital, renovating and painting the house, MRSA, Dr. Desvignes, Chapter 7, John C. Lincoln Hospital, facing my demons, Odyssey Hospice, turning sixty, Durant’s Steak House, Penny’s transition

Feeling My Way- Aram in the Navy, Kim & Stu, short-selling house, Louhelen Baha’i School, meandering across the country, helping in-laws, moving to Prescott, Willow Creek Gardens, Pacific Coast and interior Northwest, Texas Circle, wayward Vision Quest, emotional overkill, death of father-in-law, D-Day Anniversary, Berga, World Cup celebrations, Rouen landmarks, Paris by day and night, Luxembourg National Day, Iolani Palace, Waikiki, Tiger Cruise

Settling in My Space- Arizona Avenue, Prescott Circle Trail, Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, southeast Alaska, BRIDGES Program, RISE Program, Prescott High School, southern California beach towns, Aram to Korea, Carson City-Reno family, Gulf Coast journey, cross-continental journeys, loss of two cars, break-in to a third, Red Cross, death of mother-in-law, semi-retirement, Do Terra Essential Oils, Aram & Yunhee, return to Korea

2010-19 was the decade of resilience

2020- 29 is the decade of endurance

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 79: That Which Hangs Heavy

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August 18, 2020-

The air before a thunderstorm tends to sit, held in place by an almost perverse high pressure system, of anti-gravity. Eventually, as the sun’s influence wanes and evening draws near, the barometric pressure often falls, and the moisture being artificially held in abeyance will be released.

The same is true in human affairs. Those who thrive on artifice, and control of the masses, have gone to great lengths to devise systems by which this control may be monitored, adjusted and synthesized, so as to fit the ever-changing state of affairs, which seems to elude their initial grasp.

There is an old joke about the Brass Ring, that it is thinly coated with brass and is in fact largely iron. It comes with a magnet, carefully placed above it, which unseen manipulators swiftly lower, grabbing the ring and raising it up, away from the longing hands of the underdog. It’s a variation of “You can’t beat the system”, “Murphy’s Law”, “Business as usual is the only business that counts”, “Corporations are people, too”, “You can’t always get what you want”-and so on.

There are a couple of other truisms at play here: First, patience is a virtue. The young, and those who have waited forever for their just desserts, are understandably short on patience. We see this in the outbursts that initially came after the deaths of George Floyd and Brianna Taylor. We see it in the outbursts that continue, seemingly without purpose or direction, in cities like Portland and Seattle. We see it in the outbursts that DO have purpose, in Beirut and Belarus. Patience is a virtue, but so is purposeful, constructive action. The trick is in knowing when to turn off the patience and turn up the heat-without unintentionally scalding or singeing innocent bystanders.

Secondly, those whose purpose lies in control of others are not going to lie down and play dead-ever. The Far Right has been masterful at playing Donald Trump’s ego, and his insecurity, like a fiddle. It has been ingenious at drawing in the fanciful minds of the New Age community, the orderly, obedient and heartfelt members of the Fundamentalist Christian and Orthodox (as well as Conservative) Jewish communities and the business-minded, obedience-oriented legal immigrants from Asia and Latin America. It has an End Game, summed up by “He who has the gold, makes the rules”. It foresees an America divided into palaces and favelas. It envisions a gradual elimination of those who deviate from what it defines as the norm. It will play the Master Race card.

The Far Left, no less authoritarian than its identified opposite number, has mastered the Game of Shrillness: It has capitalized on the lingering fears of Nazism and Fascism, which are ever-present among both those whose lives are well-ahead of them and those whose best years are behind them. It has owned the Megaphone, snatching that device away from White Supremacy, while being careful not to give it up, too much, to Black Lives Matter. It has dangled the nebulous term “Antifa”, in front of people whose own mantra is “Just let me go to work, come home and enjoy my family.” The idea is to cow people into submission, by shouting: “What are you, a bunch of Neanderthals?”, to anyone not toeing the line of its agenda. Its End Game is that-It has no End Game, except perhaps that same, pesky, Master Race card, which will be face up-should more people buy into the false dichotomy between the lives of children and the rights of women, the concept that ridding mankind of the congenitally-disabled is a key to a healthy community, or the equally false notion that religion cannot co-exist with free will.

Time hangs heavy-just like precipitation that is stuck inside a cloud.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 78: Never Gone

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August 17, 2020-

My brother woke me from my midday nap. I haven’t seen him, physically, in 26 years. Yet, today, his voice called to me, and I sensed it was to get up and do something, with the rest of my afternoon.

It’s good to have family around, even though I am physically alone, when in the apartment. I can sense Penny, my father, grandparents, in-laws, close uncles and aunts-and dear baby brother.

The President, speaking of his departed younger brother, summed it up- “We’ll see each other again.” Yes, this will be our ultimate affirmation of family. In some cases, people will understand family members better, on the other side. There won’t be any way to have a mud-wrestling match, so they may as well.

I treasure each encounter, each reminder and each little sign- including the animals, flowers, clouds and shaped rocks that I can at least imagine are sent my way-by the beloveds. Then, I hear the neighbours and their evening guests, enjoying the night air-as Paul Simon once sang, “out on the stoop.” I see the kids savouring, seizing, the last few minutes of twilight, on their bikes and boards. I feel the gentle caress on the back of my neck or on the heel of my foot-reassuring me that there is much left for me to do, savour, experience.

I check my e-mails, and there is a deal, from a reputable company, to visit Bhutan-any time in 2022. I’ll give that one a bit of thought, but it does have an appeal to it. I’ll see what the spirit guides have to say.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 77: What If?

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August 16, 2020-

Today was a day of minor blessings for people who live in the far western section of Yavapai County. Rain fell there, in areas that haven’t seen any moisture, since February. We got no rain here, but the cloud cover kept temperatures at a decent level.

A couple of commenters have raised the spectres of even worse conditions facing us, than this year has already brought. Three Gorges Dam, for one thing, is not in the most geologically stable area of China, which has frequent earthquakes, that are not as widely reported as perhaps they should be. Should that huge dam collapse, the impact on both the world economy and on climate will be clearly catastrophic. Rain would be intense, for weeks, if not months.

People around here, and in other dry areas of Western North America, may think that will be a blessing, but remember that nonporous caliche underlies desert sands. Anyone who has lived through flash floods, in the Sonoran, Chihuahuan or Mojave Deserts can attest to the altogether different set of issues that arise with too much water.

Thus, whether it comes down to having one’s own set plans for facing swift and fluid emergency situations, or establishing a framework for intentional communities-and actually making them happen, the time for knowing what one would do, in such cases, has been in place for the past fifteen years-at least, and is not getting any less urgent.

I have networked locally, for that very reason, and those of us who have connected with one another will be okay-for six months to a year. The scenarios some have described, would last longer than that-but the time frame I mention is at least a start.

Plan for the worst, hope for the best and dive deep, in learning to live together.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 76: Dog Days

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August 15, 2020-

I woke up grouchy, this morning, and had to sit for a few minutes, processing a few unresolved issues from the past, which, it is said, come up whenever several of Earth’s fellow planets go in retrograde from this world. One thing that annoys me, that has little or nothing to do with retrogrades, though, is the dry, extreme heat that comes with a La Nina summer. It will be dry as a bone, from California to Texas, into September, unless the La Nina pattern breaks up ahead of schedule.

So, on days like this, I have only to pull myself together, with extra hydration, and a large meal in midday, with smaller fare earlier and later. Fortunately, too, the Microgreen and Wheatgrass delivery came, this afternoon, as did the coming month’s supply of do Terra products.

It was an emotional lift to take that large meal at Rustic Cafe, which I had not visited since before the pandemic shutdown. The young sisters-in-law who work the front are ever peppy and cheerful, lifting everyone’s spirits. The food is always hearty and in manageable portions, as well as being scrumptious. Unlike a few of my other favourite spots, there is seating inside.

Another bit of good news: Farmers’ Market will move to a site that is more welcoming to the staff, vendors and patrons. The parking lot of a shuttered elementary school will be our gathering place, in perpetuity, come September.

Dog Days can wear one out, so the spirit must work harder at making the most of the last few weeks of high heat. Who knows? We may get a wet September and October, which has happened in the past, most notably, ten years ago.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 75: Three Tyrannies

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August 14, 2020-

When I was around thirty-one, I learned to play chess, by watching two chess masters teaching a group of Dineh boys, in the school where I worked and in the neighbouring junior high school.

Chess is a game of high presence and stealth. Many times, a player becomes absorbed in own feelings of cleverness and innovation, until the more present opponent makes the winning gambit, and announces “Checkmate!”. Chess can morph into Covert External Tyranny.

There are, essentially, three forms of tyranny: Overt External, Covert External and Self-Imposed.

Overt External is most often aimed at transforming the person subjected to the trials. It is never intended to permanently disempower its target subject. Basic and advanced military training; team coaching-in fact, any sort of “Boot Camp”, headed by a hard-nosed, but self-effacing, task master, exemplifies Overt External Tyranny. It occurs for a specified period of time, has specific performance goals, and once these are regarded as having been met, the subject is congratulated, the tyranny lifts and all participants come to know one another on a more equal level. A variation on this is SOMETIMES shown by our current President-hardly a self-effacing man, at least on the surface, but one who does, privately, give credit to those who have taken, and met, a challenge he has thrown out. The peace agreement between the State of Israel and the United Arab Emirates is an example of this.

Covert External Tyranny is illustrated by the common method of preparing crustaceans for food. The animal is placed in a pot of cold water, under which a flame is then lit. The water slowly heats, and the animal, being sensitized to the rising temperature, shows no distress. Once the water is heated to a point that no longer sustains life, the animal’s awareness is negated. It loses consciousness, it is boiled to the point where its flesh is safe to eat and the tyranny, in this individual case, comes to an end, only to be replicated, thousands of times over, with different crustaceans.

In the human world, a budding Covert Tyrant will study the target population. The interactions, mindsets and approaches to new ideas, of those intended to be subjugated, will be closely watched and a plan of action will be gradually devised. The Covert Tyrant will appear on the scene as a friend of the people, who will call attention to real and imagined difficulties they have faced. S(he) will then suggest ways to solve these problems, which look great, at first blush. A critical mass of the target group will be elated, extol the virtues of the newly arrived saviour.

The deception has thus started to embed itself, and ere long, as the people give up more and more of their prerogatives and freedoms to the Covert Tyrant, and regime, the rules and the penalties for non-compliance become more stringent. Before long, the tyrant and successors have cowed the populace, and the true intention, usually to enrich themselves, at the expense of the populace, and in perpetuity, is revealed. It is the boiling water, but the semi-conscious victims barely take notice. To those few who do raise a protest, the tyrant responds either with brute force or by disparaging the critics, rendering them as pariahs to the wider community. The current President has followed this pattern, as well. It is my view, though, that he is not the prime mover of the stealthy oppression. He is a bit player. Those who are really working behind the scenes have done their homework, have carefully worked, at state and local levels-and in the judiciary, where lifetime appointments are not easily abrogated by the voting public.

I have mentioned a right-wing claque, led currently by Charles Koch, in previous posts. They are seemingly opposed by an opposite, but more loosely-organized, oligarchy. Both, however, seek the disempowerment of the common man, with a view towards dominance towards their own ends-whether personal power and comfort for an elite, as defined by themselves or for the dispiriting of the masses, who will then grovel and serve without complaint. The enslavement of Africans and certain others, from the 17th-19th Centuries, is a prime example of the latter. Low wage employment and human trafficking, in the 20th Century and presently, are examples of the former.

These are made possible by the third form of tyranny: Self-imposed. Every human being has a modicum of desire to please those close to self: Child to parent and, sometimes, the reverse; spouse to spouse; worker to supervisor, or both, to employer; citizen to public official, and again, sometimes in reverse; friend to friend.

An imbalance in this desire, often sparked by low self-esteem, can lead to tyranny towards self. I have browbeaten myself, on occasion, for not having pleased a person whom I had held up as either a real or imagined authority figure. I wanted to please my parents, close relatives, those bosses for whom I’ve had genuine respect, my driving instructor-back in high school, my late wife. It was only when I learned to love and accept myself, within my own space, that this tyranny became unnecessary, and faded away.

There is much that we could discuss further, along these lines. I am still resistant to uninvited critics, who seek to impose their will-either overtly or covertly. Only by examining their motives from a safe distance does that change my response.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 74: Breaking the Terror Chain

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August 13, 2020-

The self-styled “enlightened one” launched into her dire warning: “If you vote against your current president, you will be voting for the Cabal.” With that, sick to my stomach, I cut off the video. This, sadly, heartbreakingly, is what the New Age is offering us. I have not made up my mind about my vote, in the coming election. There is a long time, in real terms, between now and November 3. Yet, having just finished reading “Democracy in Chains”, by Nancy McLean, I see that there are, in effect, two “cabals” vying against one another.

The bona fide claque, whose puppet master is Charles Koch, a man with little in the way of either love or trust in the common people, is angling for control of this nation, and it has come a long way towards achieving its ends. It has now cultivated a band of what Vladimir Lenin (actually one of the idols of Koch’s former chief ally, the late James Buchanan [the Nobel Laureate economist, not the former President], called “useful idiots”. These are put forward as Cosmically-Connected, enlightened souls, with a tie to the supernatural. Koch’s understanding of New Age philosophy is spot-on. All he had to do, to get these individuals to march in lock step obedience, was cast the sitting U.S. President as a chess master, a “Light Being”, who will save us all-and do it while appearing to be a dim-witted oaf. He had only to bring up deep-seated, if somewhat justified, fears of secret societies, such as the Masonic Temple-and there they were, his enlightened army-who could bring the young and idealistic into the fold.

Baha’u’llah forbids us from joining secret societies. He also discourages Baha’is from dabbling in psychic phenomena. He calls on us to eschew involvement in partisan politics-the raw material of division. The above series of events stands as a good example of WHY He gave this admonition. Our 3D mindset cannot understand the dimensions beyond, which are true states of light. It can, and does, mimic 5D- primarily among those who are convinced of their own virtuousness. 5D reality, to the extent that it does envelop a physical being, does so slowly, methodically and in a state of heart-mind balance. The intellectuals who are now being duped by Koch-or by his opposite numbers in the group that very loosely functions as a cabal-type oligarchy, are captives of their own egos.

I am hardly a saint, but cannot deny my own love for humanity, for the sake of supporting either oligarchy. I pray that the younger generations, and those of us elders who are not yet deluded, will see through both deceptions. Let us develop our individual sense of responsibility, and build a truly enlightened, inclusive society, beholden to no oligarch.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 73: Grasping at Straws

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August 12, 2020-

I am sensing an ennui,

among the people who

comment, investigate

and postulate about

the whos, whats and whys

behind serious matters,

and more quotidian fare.

There is less concern

these days,

with fact,

than with

titillating innuendo.

There is less willingness

to work through an issue,

than to hand off

the matter to

one of the “favoured few”.

There is a joy,

when one finds “clickbait”

on an individual

whom one claims to loathe.

It’s easier to issue

an armchair condemnation,

than to call out the person

and insist on specific steps

that s(he) could take,

in order to rectify

one’s legitimate grievances.

Building legitimacy,

though, is hard work.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 72: Wheatgrass

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August 11, 2020-

Whether on the road or, as is the case now, keeping vigil at Home Base, I am always on the lookout for new elements to incorporate into my life-especially if they are proven to enhance people’s physical, mental or emotional health.

Certified Pure, Therapeutic Grade Essential Oils have been part of my regimen for seven years. Organic foods have been in the mix for nearly that long. This year, I have added microgreens and raw milk to my diet. The latter is good in shakes, which are a fine meal in the present dry heat-at least once a day.

Wheatgrass juice is the most recent food to join my wellness plan. It does two things, right off the top. First, it gives my hands and arms some old-fashioned exercise, as I cut the grass from its bed on a porous cardboard tray, place it in a manual juicer, tamp it a bit with a pestle and grind it into pulp, using a small glass to catch the juice. I then pour the juice into my quart measuring cup, noting that the yield from half the tray is 2 ounces of juice. That is the maximum recommended for one day, though one may stretch it over two days, if the budget is tight.

What are the benefits? I will provide a link to a more comprehensive list, at the end of this post, but so far, I have felt more energy, sleep a bit better-even in the heat and have been more regular.

Here is the more polished list of potential benefits. Note that “may” is used for most of the possible benefits, per FDA rules.

https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/wheatgrass-benefits