Monthly Archives: December 2022

Urban Farms Are Essential

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 11, 2022, Gila Bend, AZ- The unruly young mare tried to nip her owner and got a slap on the nose and a sharp rebuke, from the no-nonsense mistress. There was not a bit of weakness in this woman, who has built a solid foundation for Maya’s Farm, based on what she learned up the road, at The Farm on South Mountain. I am always amused by an enterprise which begins with “The”, as if it is the only such enterprise of its kind, in a given area. Maya has done the leg work, networked with government, landowners and insurance companies, to create a second urban farm in south Phoenix. She is not done, and showed us a barren tract, nearby, which would fit nicely into her endeavour- largely backed by a Land Trust. She has little use for those who suggest cultivating a friendship with land developers, noting that all she has seen so far is fast-track housing, and nothing will change her viewpoint, anytime soon.

People go with what they experience. A child who gets a regular diet of whoop-ass is going to be either mean or skittish. A person raised to be heard, and affirmed, will grow to be confident, sassy at times, but quite solid. Maya, I think, has seen duplicity and underhandedness. Thus, she is wary of the buildings going up, just two blocks north, and of anyone who does not show “TLC” to the land.
The world needs a lot more Mayas.

Our tour, this afternoon, was called “Let’s Legume”, and featured tepary beans, Hopi Red Dye Amaranth, elephant garlic and various shade trees. The property is helped, through being bordered on the north by a grove featuring various palms. I can’t imagine living through the heat of May-October, and constantly working, but the farm crew does it. I met a few men and women who pledged their energy for the coming year. Maya does not take much time off, in terms of growing her crops, while also teaching full time, so such volunteers are a godsend.

The meal, of a grain “burger”, was one of the spiciest sandwiches I’ve had, in quite awhile, and was delectable. The fire was put out by a cup of well water, and a cookie that seemed to have nutmeg and cinnamon helped as well. Who says vegans have a bland diet?

After an hour or so at the salubrious farm, I headed west, then south, to this small farming community, at the southwest edge of Metro Phoenix. People here, where the summer temps get up to nearly 118 at times, would do well to plant shade trees and desert-hardy crops, at the level of the urban farms of south Phoenix. The Tohono O’odham, who live not far from here, are descended from people who did just that, for over a century.

Urban farms, run by serious entrepreneurs with intense energy, are essential to our survival in this period of climate change.

Seven Dogs and Seven People

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 10, 2022- The strikingly comely woman described being in a van, with the titular living arrangement. There was a time in my life when just being in the same environment with a person like her would have been Heaven on Earth. As I think about it, and ponder her own description of the situation, I would now be more likely to see what I could do to extricate her,and probably at least a few of the dogs, from that sardine can of a vehicle.

I have been in crowded vehicles that were headed from A to B, on more than one occasion. The obvious ones have been airplanes, but there were others-a third class train, from Playa San Carlos to Nogales, Sonora; a third class ferry, from Yosu to Jeju, South Korea; a van from Blue Springs, MO to Troy, NY. This last saw me help calm a cranky toddler, who had just driven her mother to exasperation. The young woman got about an hour’s respite as I held the little girl gently enough so she fell asleep for a while.

I went to the Raven Cafe, again this evening, after a delightful Christmas party, featuring pork ribs, potatoes and vegetable, for two reasons: One was to purchase a to-go meal, for the benefit of Arizona’s Children Association; the other was to listen to the band, The Barn Swallows, a folk music iteration of four musicians calling themselves Juniper Djinn. JD offers jazz from the 1930s and ’40s, with an emphasis on the Gypsy jazz that was popularized by Django Reinhardt. The Barn Swallows, three women with extraordinary voices, gave us two hours and thirty minutes of mellifluous, original folk tunes that hinted of the experiences people had during the Great Depression. The lovely lady mentioned above was one of these. All were compelling talents, backed by a male cellist/guitarist.

The troupe will return to Prescott again, in mid-January. This will hopefully give a good friend, who couldn’t make it this evening, a chance to enjoy their offerings. In any case, the band has at least one new fan.

It’s a supreme joy to appreciate the totality of human beings and their talents.

Acker Night Reflections

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 9, 2022- As I walked about downtown Prescott, there were several things apparent: The town was alive with music, in each of over five dozen businesses; there were healthy crowds in each one; downtown banks had shut their ATMs, or had run out of cash. This last was significant, because one of the ideas of Acker Night is for patrons to leave a cash tip, in each of the shops they visit, as part of the evening’s fund raiser for arts programs in the area. The less cash there is available, the less that is contributed to the effort. There needs to be better communication between banks, the arts community and the public-at-large.

I wrote, a week ago, about being more comfortable in groups. I am ready for groups, but this evening, they were not ready for me. It’s not altogether easy for close-knit people to accept those deemed outsiders. So, after chatting for a few minutes with a member of one such group, and listening to a men’s choir, I wandered back to Home Base; not sad or even lonely, but calm in realizing that good people sometimes just need time and space to consider expanding their circle.

I sense that an immature part of me has fallen away, or has grown up, at long last. Some of the people in my life seemed to like that flirtatiousness, light-heartedness that occasionally surfaced. My energy field, though, has become more concerned with the complete human beings in my life, with what is in their dreamscape and their life plan. It is just time for that unity between heart and mind to rise to the surface.

Tomorrow evening will find me in two more group situations: An American Legion Christmas Party and another concert evening at Raven Cafe, with hopefully another seat at a table which can draw four-six people together.

Life moves forward in stages.

Safeguarding

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 8, 2022- A chirpy voice uttered a “complimentary” greeting to me, as I was leaving the building. I looked down to see a very short person, looking up at me with a radiant smile. This was either a ruse or a slightly disturbed individual, given the nature of the words-which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say, a person my age is NOT someone who is usually the recipient of such comments. We both kept walking in opposite directions, and I did not look back; there was no reason to, unless I myself was disturbed. Making a big deal of it would have been evidence of the latter.

My charges and I had just had a good, honest talk, in which I reassured them, especially a young man, that they could opt out of a reportedly graphic information presentation on matters which used to be handled between father and son, or mother and daughter. Both the boy and his female classmates seemed relieved that they did not have to sit through someone else’s idea of valid information. (The individual mentioned above was not part of that class, and was not anyone I had ever seen before.)

We live in an age when there is both honesty about matters of the flesh and gross overkill as to how soon in life someone should make a determination about his/her gender identity and as to who is to help make that determination. (My own position is that no gender change should be made, until a person is at least 18, and then, only when armed with full information on all aspects of such a change,) We live in an age when entire generations have grown up with adulterated food, air and, in many cases, water. We have no clear idea what specific effects the substances, from GMOs to microplastics to heavy metals, have had on human beings and other living things. Hormonal imbalances, along with mental disorders and early onset diseases, may very well be a result of these substances being present.

We also live in an age when there is both free flowing commentary about once private matters and anonymity, in speech, and between even people living in close proximity to one another; sometimes, between people living in the same house. One by-product of these is a plethora of confused and frightened individuals. Thus, the highly intelligent young man who was all too vocal about what he regarded as institutional overkill, in trying to influence his decision-making, which he preferred be a matter between his father and himself,

It is no secret, in this community, and on the pages of this blog, that I love young people very deeply, in the true sense of the word. I recently watched a program, in which one of the characters said, “We safeguard those we love. We keep them from harm, coming from any source.” That has been my modus vivendi, since I was probably 9 years of age. Maybe being the oldest of five children had something to do with it; maybe realizing that life is tough, no matter what age one is, had its influence. In any case, I long ago decided my life’s work would be helping young people safely realize their dreams and to the extent possible, on their own terms. That is how our son was raised, and that is how I advise anyone else.

If I again encounter the child mentioned at the top of this post, my words will be the same as with others: “Walk carefully; speak thoughtfully; live authentically; dream fearlessly.”

Celebrations and Stress Tests

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 7, 2022- The 13-year-old pulled the hood of his coat tightly over his head, keeping that head down, as much as possible, while making it clear that he was trying to follow instructions, as best he could. Such is the daily life of a recent refugee from a place where conflict rages. The reactions of people, especially young people, who are in an outwardly safe place while inwardly reeling from all they have seen and heard, smelled and felt, over the past months and years of their lives, run the gamut from manic energy to gross task avoidance to abject terror. The stress they must feel is extreme, palpable and is with them 24/7.

This is the rough part of December, for many: Pearl Harbor was attacked 71 years ago; the best friend of a good friend died two years ago; the finances of many are being hammered, as the December Doldrums, the worst time of year for investors, play out and the days inch shorter.

Of course, in short order, celebrations will pick up, as will the stock market- in mid-month. Solstice will come and the days will get imperceptibly longer. The victims of war, however, will need all manner of understanding and support. As conflicts rage, young people are living with grandparents, aunts and uncles-while their parents are back in the conflict zone-enduring God knows what. The children know, the children fear and the children tremble.

In another city, a 14-year-old stabbed herself, was rushed to hospital and thankfully was saved from physical death. Only unconditional love, which has poured out on social media and, hopefully, will pour out from her family, will restore her emotional and mental health. I saw that girl’s face in my mind, though I have never seen her image anywhere else. I heard her shaky voice, pleading to be loved.

As the First World’s and ten-percenters’ financial doldrums subside, and as the the celebrations of various holidays pick up, let us make a special effort to envelop those under stress with an uncommon love and unstoppable efforts at understanding. No child, indeed, no person, should be left behind.

False Alarms and Needs Met

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 6, 2022- Arriving on time, for a scheduled medical check-up, I found that my provider had left the particular practice. No notice had been sent by the practice, and I determined why, very quickly-they are operating with a skeleton crew, after a troublesome upheaval, a month or so ago. A veteran provider at a higher level, who has done good work for me, is still there. So, I trust them enough to have rescheduled for later this month, with another provider. It was a minor hiccup, in terms of my schedule. Breakfast at Pangaea Bakery, and being greeted by a lovely, effervescent counter person, who works hard for her customers, set the day on an even tone.

Most of the day was spent helping an equally diligent phlebotomy crew, at a Blood Drive in Prescott Valley. I was the “Blood Ambassador”, greeting donors as they walked in. The team lead, a whirling dervish of a woman, seemed to accomplish ten things in the time it took the rest of us to do one or two tasks. I learned, quickly, to just sit back and let her give staccato instructions, then proceed as directed. It was likely the first and last time I will be invited to join that particular team, but there were no mistakes and three dozen people were successfully processed.

This being the 42nd Anniversary of meeting Penny, I went to dinner. Since LeffT’s Steak House was not too far from the Blood Drive site, I stopped in for an early repast. LeffT’s is a relaxed, down-home establishment. So, when a woman came up and asked me how I liked the open-faced meatloaf sandwich I had ordered, it was no trouble to recommend the dish, wholeheartedly. She so ordered, and agreed with my positive assessment. I had a nice chat with her and her husband, on the way out.

It’s always a nice touch to make friends, from the beginning to the end of a well-spent day. Even those who seem to be begrudging can be brought into one’s corner, with patience and diligence.

Hiding the Obvious

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

December 5, 2022- The winsome, but giddy, girl asked why I was walking away from her and her friend: “Don’t you like us?” I reassured her that they were very much liked, but I didn’t want to be seen as hovering. That satisfied her, though they sought attention in other ways, for the rest of the class, including by trying to hide a cell phone-which she insisted was not there, until it fell on the floor.

Eleven and twelve year olds can be expected to try and hide the obvious. Being recognized, in the midst of the change from child to adolescent, is a comfort-even when everyone concerned knows that the means to that recognition is ludicrous. After I played along, for a bit, with the cell phone ruse, they got more serious and asked for help with an assignment-related problem.

Special needs children, on the other hand, especially those who are in the “Severe and profound” category, are unable to hide anything-especially their non-verbal cues. The only way many can communicate is with their bodies-stiffening up, going dead weight, yelling, trying to run away. They are being very obvious about saying that something in the situation upsets or frightens them. Misreading their cues, or responding with an old-school “Just give him a good old-fashioned swat”, will do one thing: It will widen the chasm even further. It is instructive that a new teacher has relieved an older teacher, who believes in corporal punishment, of her duties-after the older woman lashed out at a special needs child. The child has challenges, but has not, historically, learned from physical or loud verbal chastisement.

The obvious, with me, is that I love others’ children, as if they were my own. So is it best to give them constant, and consistent, guidance and encouragement- placing limits and channeling behaviour, as much as possible. That can best be accomplished by not clinging to past violent methods-but following a much more rigourous path of constant teaching and modeling respectful behaviour-and expecting it be returned in kind.

I choose not to hide the obvious.

Soft Landings

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 4, 2022- This will go down in history as the first time I won at “Candyland”, since 1959. The other players then were my sister, younger brother and a neighbour kid. Today, there were a friend up the road and two of her young neighbours. “Candyland”, the game, but not the fictional plantation in Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”, is the stuff of soft landings. Kids of any age can win or lose, because there is no strategy, no give and take-just pure dice rolling and advance or retreat, as the card pulled says to do. Of course, whoever shuffles the cards can pull a fast one, but why bother? Texas Hold ’em, it isn’t.

Speaking of poker, I haven’t played the game since 1974, before the heyday of Texas Hold’em. Back then, we preferred Seven Card Stud, and my own skills in the game were hit and miss. The particular logic of poker is often the sort of winner takes all thinking that routinely stoked anger in some of my friends at the time, with ridicule coming from those well-versed in ante-based card games in general, and Seven Card Stud in particular. Three guesses, as to how anger inter-playing with ridicule turned out. Poker is not the stuff of soft landings.

Some people see romance as a game of hit and miss. That is missing the point, both about love and about gamesmanship. A game, in the classical sense, has winners and losers. Love, in the true sense, has only winners. Of course, if romance-or any other by-product of love, becomes viewed as needful, then naturally there is a sense of loss. I have been in that state of mind, several times. Now, after an intense, but basically sound, marriage that physically ended nearly twelve years ago, and an equally intense, occasionally tortuous, effort to shed stored old pre-marital baggage regarding friendships with women, I have made the soft landing. Friendships with both men and women occupy two levels: A large number of people who I care about, but don’t see in the flesh all that often and a core group of people who I see on a regular basis. There is a third group, of 2-3 women, who are my closest confidantes, rating with my middle brother and my son, in that regard.

It is a world that some see as getting worse, a harder place in which to live. I don’t have their woes, but have come close at times. The parachute of the social network helps greatly, in lowering the impact, in softening the landing.

Gatherings

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 3, 2022- Hiking Buddy found me, as I was texting her, asking where she was. There was a large table of casseroles and snacks, from which I was welcome to nibble, while we waited for the Christmas Parade to start. It was good to meet several of her other friends, who are the organizers of this parade day “tailgate picnic”.

The parade itself was 1 1/2 hours in length, and with the chill afternoon wind, I was glad to no longer be standing around outside-even with one of my best friends. Nonetheless, this mini-gathering, if it continues, will be a fine Season Launch day tradition. I can even bring a crock pot full of Christmas run-up staples from my adolescence-cocktail franks or mini-meatballs.

Two hours later, the annual Tree Lighting found Courthouse Square and the surrounding area wall-to-wall, with the anticipatory crowd. The Christmas story was narrated, as it has been for thirty years, by our area’s State Senator. As he spoke the final words of the Nativity, the switch was flipped, the lights came on and fireworks were set off.

Parades and fireworks happen with regularity here in Prescott, but not (as yet) so much so as to lose the dignity and honour befitting the occasions. More important to me is that I am finding, once again, the joy of being part of groups, in a regular, meaningful way. COVID, which I have personally not contracted, has wrought havoc on group activities. When it is confused with influenza, or a severe cold, as happens more often of late, than is sometimes supposed, the fear factor keeps us apart ad infinitum.

The last gathering of the day was a concert at Raven Cafe,by an area Bluegrass band, opened by twin brothers who have added luster to the Prescott music scene for nearly ten years. They are barely twenty, but show the spirit and talent that can put a town on the map of musicality. I took a seat at a table for four, as the high tops were all in use. As I had hoped, two people, one of whom I knew from a few substituting assignments, asked to sit at the table and were followed by two more-easily re-working the spot into a table for five. The surrounding tables were likewise filled to capacity, and a few intrepid souls were up and dancing. Stephy Leigh and Lullaby League, the main band, preceded-and accompanied a bit, by Cross-Eyed Possum, were the perfect voices and instruments to end this day.

I am grateful to be moving into a renewed sense of enjoying life in group settings.

The New Parade Day hangout
Grinchmas
Llamas and alpacas

Peace Is Not A Seesaw

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 2, 2022- A man with whom I had a fairly minor disagreement, some weeks ago, was in attendance at a gathering this evening. He once more offered his apologies for that incident, and promised it would not happen again. I do not hold grudges, and called him Brother, as indeed all men are to one another, could we but see clearly.

One of the building staff then loudly called my name and demanded attention, on a separate matter, which I quietly gave him. He continued to be loud and boisterous, until I left the area and went to join my dining companions. His intent was to prove that the other individual and I were NOT on good terms, for whatever advantage that might have given him. I noticed that the apologetic one also moved to a different seat, away from the staff member.

Peace between individuals is not a zero sum game, in which “if you like him (her), you can’t be MY friend.” It is not a seesaw, with a dominant partner keeping the other up in the air (or in the dark). The angry person from this evening will eventually come back around and show courtesy, but I will not live or die waiting for that to happen.

I have experienced the loss of a couple of friends, who are outwardly loving and congenial, but inwardly volatile and rebuffing of many efforts at friendship. Their worlds are outwardly all-embracing, but inwardly exclusive, almost to the point of self-asphyxiation. I cannot do much, other than send out positive energy, in the hopes that they will gradually both love themselves more and see that some of us value them as souls and as people.

Peace is a level field, not a seesaw.