“The Sound of Heaven Touching Earth”

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March 20, 2022, Brunswick, GA- The feisty preacher had her congregation singing this refrain in unison, as a prelude to her energetic homily, as services proceeded in Mary Ross Waterfront Park, along East River. This is life in Brunswick, after the verdicts in the Ahmaud Arbery case.

The crew at Sunrise Diner is downhome and multiracial. They work tightly together as a team, with no daylight between them, in terms of pecking order or separation. The owner mans the host stand, his mother is floor manager and his son alternates between serving and bussing, with his daughter moving about, acting as both server and hostess. Men of colour are servers, bussers and cooks, but are treated as full members of the team. Regulars were being greeted warmly, as was this visitor-never treated as a stranger. The portions are not overbearing; they are just filling and delicious.

It was important to see this, on the heels of what could have been a good deal less than the move forward that came from the trial. Certainly, there is a lot that could yet be done, in terms of community growth, yet I got the sense that people here want the world to know that they, and much of the rest of the South, are moving forward in a positive way.

The area was settled by James Oglethorpe and his band of colonists in 1738, as Britain was seeking a buffer to Spanish Florida. Oglethorpe was a forward-looking egalitarian, who opposed slavery, well before the majority of colonists were ready to give up the system. For that, he would be ostracized and would leave Georgia for good, in 1743. From then on, Brunswick and Savannah, both platted out by Oglethorpe in an easily navigable manner with lots of green space, would follow the rest of the plantation-bounded communities, in maintaining a culture of black enslavement. A plain monument to him is found in Queen’s Square.

Hanover Square is the largest of three parks designed by James Oglethorpe for Brunswick’s downtown core. It has several live oaks, symbiotic with Spanish moss, a salubrious fountain and a plain monument to Confederate soldiers. This last is the subject of ongoing debate, though it is easily overlooked. So far, there has been no lasting decision made about the small obelisk. Here is a view of the fountain.

Lastly, here are Old City Hall and a view of East River, which is Brunswick’s channel to the sea.

It is important to me to visit and engage those communities at which many may look askance. There is a wellspring of hope rising in Brunswick, as there is in Minneapolis, and many other communities which have found their internal conflicts boiling over. I hope to see this happening in peninsular Florida, as well, in the coming days.

Thunder, Lightning and Patience

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March 19, 2022, Brunswick, GA- The young lady looked at the stuck register and tried, several times, to process my modest dinner transaction. When a teenager has trouble with technology-the struggle is definitely real. The manager came and got the machine back on track, while simultaneously dealing with what looked like a HUGE order that had somehow been messed up by the kitchen staff. Such was Saturday night at the Zaxby’s, in Dublin, GA, a place that first won my heart a few years back. It’s nothing special, in the wider scheme of things, but the kids took good care of me in 2018, the last time I was down this way, flustered and looking for a place to spend the night.. There’s a different crew now, of course, but some of the same people, who were having dinner there then, were there tonight. A boy who must have been no more than five, the last time, somehow remembered me and waved hello.

Patience was definitely the order of the day, once I got to Budget Rent-a-Car’s facility, near Hartsfield. Airport car rentals are almost always swamped, but today every rental company’s staff was telling their customers the same thing: “Plan on one or two hours of waiting, folks. Our vehicle turnaround staff is shorthanded.” I was long ago gifted with the ability to see what other people are enduring, thanks to Mom, who instilled that in us. So, sitting calmly on the floor by a support beam and passing the time by watching and listening to people, who were in the same boat as I was, was not a huge deal.

Ninety minutes after I was let off by the Uber driver from Newnan, I was in my own vehicle- a black Hyundai Sonata, replete with push button starter, touch gears and a cruise control system that slows down automatically, when the vehicle is getting close to the one in front. There is also the safety tone that goes off when another vehicle is in one’s blind spot and a screen warning, if one drifts a bit and the car hits the lane bumps: “It may be time to take a break.”

When I neared Savannah, some 70 miles north of here, the rain started in earnest. Once in Brunswick, the thunder and lightning joined in the festivities. Fortunately, my time outside in the fracas was limited, as both of my bags could be carried in at once. Yes, this time, Mr. Bring-the-Household Along has managed to confine himself to a modicum of items. Gone are the days when I will be seen trudging along, underneath three or four bags, trying to find the door to the night’s lodging.

I will be here in Brunswick until Monday morning, with a possible jaunt up to Savannah tomorrow afternoon, weather-permitting. It was a supremely lovely visit with my Atlanta area family, and I look forward to equally enjoyable, if briefer, time with family and friends around the periphery of peninsular Florida, over the next twelve days or so.

Spring is about to get sprung!

Red Sky at Morning…..

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March 18, 2022, Newnan, GA- The scene this morning, over Lake Redwine was beautiful, if a bit ominous.

My brother, Dave, and I headed out early towards Andersonville, the site of the largest Confederate prisoner-of-war camp (1864-65) and of the modern National Prisoner-of-War Museum. We drove down, past the central Georgia cities of Columbus and Macon, through the smaller communities of Buena Vista and Ellaville, getting gas at the former. Once we got to the village of Andersonville, a kind lady gave us directions to the park itself.

We found ourselves blessed with cloudy, but not rainy, skies for most of the time we were in the outdoor Prison Site. Andersonville was established when smaller prisoner-of-war camps in Virginia and Alabama became overcrowded. Union soldiers, suspected spies and captured free Blacks were housed here, under increasingly fraught conditions. The facility was originally intended to house a maximum of 10,000 prisoners; at war’s end, 32,000 were incarcerated there. It was minimally-funded, and at various times during the Civil War’s late phase, prisoners were either housed in tents or were told to fashion their own accommodations, from whatever materials they could find.

Monuments exist, in honour of captured soldiers from several states. Here is the memorial to Wisconsin’s captives.

The North Gate of the tightly-built stockade, in which newly-arrived prisoners were oriented to the prison camp, has been restored.

The facility’s main water source was Stockade Branch, a low-flowing, fetid creek. Dysentery and vermin were rife, and 13,000 people died at the camp, in only 14 months. Food supplies were meager. One miraculous event relieved the misery, somewhat. In August, 1864, a sudden downpour, accompanied by a lightning strike, resulted in a spring being opened. Grateful prisoners dubbed this water source Providence Spring.

The camp’s commandant, Captain Henry Wirz, was a Swiss immigrant who had settled in Virginia and was sympathetic to the Confederate cause. He was alternately regarded as a fair-minded man, in over his head and an uncompromising brute. Wirz was singled out, after the war, tried for war crimes and executed by a tribunal.

Andersonville has a sizable National Military Cemetery, still in use for contemporary veterans’ burials. A freed prisoner, Dorence Atwater, worked with Clara Barton after the war, to identify those buried at the cemetery, from prison records, which Atwater himself copied and smuggled out of the facility, upon his release at war’s end.

The Prisoner-of-War Museum honours all American Prisoners-of-War, from the Revoutionary War through the Afghanistan Conflict. Exhibitions also contain information about Confederate soldiers held at Elmira, New York-a facility which was no better than Andersonville; Axis soldiers held at camps in the United States, during World War II and British prisoners of war held both during the War for Independence and the War of 1812. A display on Native Americans from the various “Indian Wars”, is included in the museum, as well.

There are spoken presentations by the late John McCain and Admiral James Stockdale, mirroring the overall message: “War is hell!”.

May the departed prisoners rest in peace, and may we soon learn the meaning of universal brotherhood.

A Picasso Immersion

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March 17, 2022, Newnan, GA- The conflict in Ukraine brings up images of Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, at least for me. Thus today’s visit to the Picasso Immersion, at the Pullman Warehouse Exhibition Hall, in Atlanta’s Five Points area, was particularly poignant. Guernica, for the unitiated, is the large painting in the center of this montage of Picasso’s cubist works.

Picasso’s works, from 1890-1960,were largely his reaction to the horrific World Wars, Spanish Civil War and what he saw as the rise of materialism. Pablo Picasso had his own mind about the political reality of the day and would depict those he regarded as corrupt and decadent, in a monstrous manner-representing Francisco Franco, for example, as a pile of inedible food, in Guernica, itself named for a village in northern Spain that had been bombed by Franco’s forces during the Spanish Civil War.

Picasso was a varied artist, though, and was able to represent people beloved to him, in a more conventional manner. He wrote poetry as well, such as the autobiographical “A Lonely Road Is That I Walked”:

“I walk a lonely road, the one and only one I’ve ever known.
I don’t know where it goes, but I keep walking on and on.
I walked the lonely and un trodden road for I was walking on the bridge
of the broken dreams.
I don’t know what the world is fighting for or why I am being instigated.
It’s for this that I walk this lonely road for I wish to be
ALONE!
So I am breaking up, breaking up.
It is the lack of self control that I feared as there is something
Inside me that pulls the need to surface, consuming, confusing.
Being called Weird, I walk this lonely road for on the verge of broken dreams.
And so I walk this lonely road and so just keep walking still” – pablo picasso

Like e.e. cummings after him, Picasso created in a self-deprecating fashion. He was somewhat devoted to his children, who were the only people allowed in his studio, while he worked. From the 1920s until the end of World War II, he hobnobbed with the avant-garde, in the south of France, only occasionally returning to Spain, for short periods of time. He reacted to what he saw as crass materialism, by becoming a Communist after World War II and continuing to depict members of the economic and social elite, in unflattering ways.

Picasso has always been a source of fascination to me, although admittedly an acquired taste, and requiring of considerable pondering and rumination, as to the meaning of his surrealist work. This immersion event has whetted my appetite for exploration of other great artists of our time and of earlier eras.

There was no corned beef and cabbage for us, today. The crew gathered for St. Patrick’s Day dinner, at a Taco Max in Dunwoody, north of Atlanta, and enjoyed fairly copious amounts of guacamole-along with rather good Mexican dishes. The children have their own take on everything, much like Senor Picasso. I hope to see them reach for the stars and not suffer undue hardship. It was a rare, but most enjoyable visit with our Dunwoody family.

May art, and creativity, ever be honoured and encouraged.

The Trumpeters

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March 16, 2022, Newnan, GA- Three trumpeter swans, mother, father and son, make the rounds of Lake Redwine, an artificial lake around which many new homes on the west side of this relatively serene town in west Georgia have sprung up in recent years. I am here, for three days, visiting my middle brother and his wife.

The swans, for years, kept other water fowl, particularly ducks, from settling in around the lake. An attack on the mother swan, by a snapping turtle, three years ago, resulted in her losing her lower beak. This seems to have mellowed out the trio. They have turned inward, reverting to the cygnine behaviour of parents bullying their cygnet into leaving the nest, once it comes of age. So far, it has not worked. Dutiful son still looks after his mother, even if it seems she may want him to move on.

How close to human are these opposing behaviours? The difference is that the birds are acting on instinct. Humans, with the powers of reason and utterance, still manage to hold grudges and thrive on half-truths. I will not give any specific examples, out of respect to those involved, but I keep learning of families in which parents and children push each other away, and not always out of a desire to see the other become self-sufficient.

With the swans, there are winners: The offspring get to start their own family and the parents can hatch a new set of cygnets. With humans, the hits often just keep on coming.

Humility and forgiveness-are these so impossible?

For The Hostages, on the Ides

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March 15, 2022- It has been reported that some 500 people are being held by Russian troops at a hospital in Mariupol, Ukraine. 400 of these are residents of the area near the facility and 100 are a mix of medical staff and patients. The situation is a breach of all that is humane, but that ship sailed several days ago. For all the posturing about Ukrainian neo-fascists in the Azov Brigade, most, if not all, of the brutality that is quantifiable is coming from the invaders-not from the defenders.

This is a short post, as I have a very early wake-up, tomorrow. It is no less important, though, that the world is kept abreast of matters like this. The true horror of war is largely the stuff of how innocents are treated. So far, there is no sign of any adherence, on the part of the invaders, to those provisions of the Geneva Convention that pertain to the treatment of civilians, of noncombatants.

I say goodnight, with prayers for their safety on my lips and in my heart.

Pi in the Sky

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March 14, 2022- It is noteworthy that the ancient Greeks recognized pi, the number that is the basis for determining the ratio of the diameter to the circumference of a circle and pie, the normally circular pastry shell that has been used as a container for honey, nuts, chopped meat and fruits, since the Neolithic Period in Egypt. Pi, which is 3.14 when rounded to the nearest hundredth, was first defined by the mathematician Archimedes, though the civilizations of India, Babylon, Egypt and China each made use of the concept. Welshman William Jones clarified its usefulness to circular measurement, in 1706.

Today, 3/14, is recognized unofficially, as Pi Day. That it is enthusiastically embraced by bakers and sweet-toothed people around the globe does not detract from the mathematical awareness brought about through this light-hearted embrace of a key geometric construct. Pizzerias have gotten into the act, with even the makers of rectangular pizzas claiming to have finally “squared the circle”. Along with chess, fun events like this have helped math-phobes get a grip on their aversion to numerical sciences.

I used to be one of those who hated math, mainly because of the overly serious way in which the subject was broached by so many teachers. I was fortunate to have been flashcarded to distraction by my mother and one of my father’s aunts who would come by almost every week. In time, the cosmic jokesters had me serving as a mathematics teacher, to the dubious benefit of three years’ worth of middle and high school students.

Over time, pi has ceased to be a concept lost in the ether and math has found its way into my treasury of skills. Happy Pi Day, sweet-tooth or not!

No Stigma

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March 13, 2022-

The workers in a Russian restaurant, in a large American city, found their place vandalized. There should be no stigma attached to their ethnicity or culture.

A Sikh family still mourns the slaying of their father and brother, twenty-one years after he was “mistaken for an Arab”. There should have been no stigma, even if he were an Arab, or just Muslim.

A well-groomed, well-mannered man, sporting a cowboy hat, enters a funky restaurant-bar, in a trendy West Coast town. The minute he speaks, “open-minded” people at a nearby table begin to snicker and offer ridicule. There should be no stigma, for a person’s life path and the persona that results from where one grows up.

Acceptance of others is a mirror of how each of us views self. Stigma is a mind trap.

Two Inverse Triangles

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March 12, 2022- During this afternoon’s Web of Light meditation, (part of a monthly Zoom call), I saw an inverse triangle covering North America, and got a message that the three focal points were to be the purpose of my journeys this year. One is Florida-with Miami having more of a role in the itinerary than I had previously thought, and a clockwise traverse of the peninsula being in order. Orlando, and the theme parks, didn’t even register, but then again, I am not a huge theme park aficionado, unless children are involved. This works out well, considering that I had long been drawn to go to the peninsula after visiting with family in the Atlanta area.

The other two points of the triangle are Atlantic Canada and Alaska. These will be clearer in a couple of months. Mid-June to mid-July look to be the first and mid-September to mid-October, for the second. As the meditation also showed robust activity around Home Base, in northern New Mexico and in southern California, from mid-April to mid-June, I will be engaged in measured activity, a good part of the time. I didn’t get any insight on fire or hurricane response, unlike the warning I got two years ago about Alexandria, Louisiana, but it’s early in the season yet.

My conscious self asked, “So, Europe is obviously off the table this year?” The insight gave the meditative version of “Well, duh!”, and brought my thoughts back to healing and peaceful resolution of the conflict. Another inverted triangle appeared, with Africa at the bottom, Europe on top left and the Asia-Pacific region on the top right. These areas seem to be more in a long-term sequence, which will be more clear towards the end of this year. Five years seem to be involved.

Today, the most important time period in front of me, saw a goodly amount of planning for the next few weeks, with accommodations mostly set. I put in an hour on a school garden project, at a nearby campus. Visits to Rafter Eleven and Synergy capped off the day, with the latter being a mini-jam, my drum accompanying a guitar and a harmonium. Three others in the group were suitably forceful in their singing.

Despite all that the above seems to signal, I feel very much at peace and in charge of my life.

Lines of Guidance

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March 11, 2022- The focal points of my day were two: The beginning of a weekly study on the Baha’i principles regarding social action, which entail both ground-up and engagement of all elements, and a review of Astro Cartography, as it pertains to how planetary forces were aligned at the time of my birth and how that has effected my life, ever since.

I will have more to say on the former, as weeks go by, and we get more deeply into the transformation of our planet from a hotbed of contention to a home for all. That, of course, is a process that will far outlast the earthly life of anyone alive today, but begin we have.

Regarding Astro Cartography and how it affects my life now, there are places where my life draws more challenges and responsibilities and places where life draws relaxation and comfort. I seem to have chosen to live in more challenging environments, over the years, including my present Home Base, according to the chart. I can’t say I have all that many regrets, and Prescott will remain my base for some time to come.

The chart says there are places where I can be more relaxed and other places where I have to watch my back. This is based on lines of planetary bodies’ ascent and descent, in the skies above, and in terms of their energy. I don’t claim to really understand it all yet, but I can say that in certain places, the energy has seemed more heavy and elsewhere it has been light as a feather. There are places to which I have been drawn that have a festive atmosphere, others that are more instructive and still others that are both.

This tool is one of the things I ought to consult, going forward, as is my daily meditations and, in the final analysis, conditions on the ground on a particular day. The latter particularly pertains to places to which I feel drawn, on the spur of the moment, but for which travel arrangements need to be made months in advance-Phantom Ranch, in the Grand Canyon, for example, or the Dry Tortugas, at the southwest end of Florida. (The most remote areas attract crowds, which is understandable, given our species’ need to push all manner of personal frontiers.)

In the end, being peaceful and content, where one happens to be, is the best springboard for any journey.