January 21, 2024- It is dangerous, to put on airs, in a cold mist To go outside, shirtless, and mug for the camera, in any air that is less than 32 F(0 C). Water freezes at that temperature, and we are 55-60 % water. Imagine, being a block of ice, with a pleasant countenance that is now marked in a grimace. You, too, could be portrayed by Joaquin Phoenix, or Jack Nicholson-drawn out of retirement, and away from Lakers games. In all seriousness, though, pneumonia is never a trifle, and its little sibling, bronchitis, is a pain in the neck. Corona viruses are always waiting in the wings, also. People here are still finding themselves with COVID19-or 24, or the flu of the year. This PSA is not meant to be a nuisance, in and of itself. I just like seeing my friends, either in person, or online- looking happy and productive, not aching and sad in a corner. Safety first-from Utgiagvik to Tampa, from Portland, OR to St. Anthony, NL. Stay warm and dry.
Monthly Archives: January 2024
Revitalized
January 20, 2024- The watchful Apache man saw that all the modern conveniences that had been installed in his new restaurant kitchen were still missing a key component: A means of heat. He had a stack of firewood on hand, and was able to get a fire going, safely, in his fireplace. The cook stove, of course, was a secondary means of heat. In time, the solar heater would be on track, but for the time being, the fireplace saved the day.
This was one of the vignettes that flowed through “Gather: The Fight to Revitalize Our Native Foodways”, a film that was shown this evening, at our Elks Performing Arts Center. The film illustrated First Nations people working to re-establish viable food systems, in areas across North America. A Dineh farmer is working to increase use of the Little Colorado River, in its traditional role as a water source. A young Lakota Sioux woman is spreading understanding of the nutritional value of the meat of grass-fed bison, such as her father raises. A Yurok man is teaching young men in his northern California community about traditional spear fishing, and keeping salmon populations sustainable. A San Carlos Apache grandmother is teaching a young girl about catching kangaroo rats, and respecting the home of a rattlesnake-not just because it is venomous, but because it, too, is a living being and helps keep the rodent population in balance. She is also teaching the child about harvesting edible desert plants. The White Mountain Apache chef is likewise using local products, in his preparation of dishes at Cafe Gozho’o’ (the second o is silent). Gozho’o’ means happiness, harmony or balance, in the Nde’e’ language of the Apache people.
The key to all this is revitalization, for which this is a year. A friend here in town received final clearance to move her possessions to a house which she had inherited, over a year ago. There had been delays in the move, for various reasons, which have now been resolved. I helped with moving some of the items, this afternoon. Her life, and livelihood, are being regenerated.
My own life has not been stagnant, yet its pace, too, is picking up, in terms of financial, interpersonal and goal-setting elements. This will be a truly interesting year, one in which decisive action becomes the norm.
“Just Tryin’ To Get Home”*
January 19, 2024- One sang a prayer to the angels. Another mused about her Love of thirty years. The third one sang to a dead friend. The fourth sang to his daughter, who was some distance away. Four musicians, offered the stuff of their hearts, in a round table of harmony.
We are all trying to get home-as *the song by Meg Bohrman so poignantly states. Those of us with home bases are ever looking to be ready for our spiritual Home, when the time comes. Others, whose time here figures to be a lot longer than mine, are also looking for a “forever home”, in which they can raise a family. Still others would just like a home that is not a tent in the woods, or a lean-to, or a cardboard box.
My home is in my heart. So, it feels like home, when I have served well, on a given day. It feels like home, when I have made someone smile. It feels like home, when I have been present for my new Love, and been strong for her, when we connect electronically, even though the physical distance between us is, for now, all too wide. It feels like home, when I reflect that my demons, known only to God, to my departed Angel and to me, have long been cast out. It feels like home, when I know that my little family, extended family and wide circle of friends are safe and well.
Home is in the heart.
Torn Plastic
January 18, 2024- The technician went over Sportage, noting the areas that will be repaired, from December 4’s encounter with the traffic cone, and a small tear in the rear door lift-not part of the claim. I can mend the latter myself, using JB Weld, or maybe a clear epoxy.
My recent time at Ghost Ranch restored a sense of competence in matters of handiwork. It had been a long time since I did anything that involved a degree of knowledge in one of the trades. I did paint my house in Phoenix, externally and most of the interior-just not enough to feel a sense of completion. Back then, Penny’s care was more important.
I don’t have to do much, manually, here at Home Base 1-being a renter. If my life circumstances change, though, I would want to draw on the latent skill sets that served me quite well, last week. It boils down to patience, and being able to do things one step at a time. Multitasking often works against the craftsman, the manual labourer, whose work will never truly become outdated or inconsequential.
Tomorrow, I will prepare a small item for use as a necklace, which may be sent as a gift, for an upcoming Baha’i festival. That will be another affirmation of skill set. When Sportage comes back, next week, I will repair the torn spot on the door lift. It’s all a matter of self-confidence, and patience.
Parents, raise your children in a degree of self-reliance. The Pros and experts won’t always be available to help.
Just Being
January 17, 2024- Someone I love dearly sent me a message, this morning. It was a description of her quotidian life and of the joy that some friends had brought to her world, these past few days. I responded with my normal comings and goings, including some photos of the past few days.
There are no expectations, per se, in our friendship. It is a matter of just being, just sharing what goes on and what we think, feel and experience, because we care enough about one another to make this a regular part of our existence, once or twice a week, until we see each other again.
Once upon a time, this was the province of the telephone call. Mothers and daughters, in particular, talked several days a week, but occasionally men and boys got involved. Social media, at its finest, lets us acknowledge birthdays, anniversaries and achievements. These are all fine things-as long as people are allowed to just be.
Earlier still, communication was face to face. The old-fashioned home visit, sometimes lasting for hours, or for days (before the snarky business about fish and old clothes became the standard), was not an unusual event. In some cultures, not staying overnight is deemed an insult. In others, prior invitation is expected, even for a one-hour house call. Yet, the main thing is that each allows the other to just be.
Another friend wrote to several of us, about having written a book, that is intended to be published. She told of all the trepidation that came, prior to the actual preparation of the book. Once she let herself relax, and accept the achievement, the book became her friend, and her being was enough.
You know, it took me a very long time to get to this point, but now, just being-walking alongside so many good people, and feeling, knowing, that I belong, is a springboard to all that I know I can achieve.
Thoughts On Fixing What’s Not Broken
January 16, 2024- My day was centered on helping a Baha’i friend get to a medical appointment. As Dad taught us to focus on one thing at a time, and doing it right, any other considerations for the afternoon were moot. I got Sportage washed, and opened my collected mail, from last week, but that was all done by mission time.
After the appointment was over, friend recapped the conversation with doctor and physician’s assistant. It seems, as is so often the case, that there is no provision by the practitioners for naturopathic or herbal remedies to the diagnosed malady. Indeed, the implication is that patient (Baha’i friend) ought to accept a treatment plan, “so as to stay ahead of any problems down the road.” Friend did not take the bait, sticking to own regimen for maintaining personal health. In the end, doctor’s advice was: ”Keep doing what you’re doing.”
The goal of any primarily monetized enterprise is to keep the cash flowing. As a snark once told me, “Hey, money pays the bills”, as if that excused the whole nine yards. In so doing, there is a sense that creating a problem, then devising and advancing a solution, is a solid business model. This, when recognized for what it is, gives rise to conspiracy theories-and I have to say, the “kooks” have something there, even if their valid point ends up twisted off into various tangents.
Truth be told, there are enough problems that are extant in this physical world, at any given time, that inventing more issues and devising solutions to them, is little more than a perverse Socratic seminar. Each end of the dominant culture’s spectrum accuses the other of faux saviourhood. Yet, both practice the ruse: The Far Left, by announcing a ban on vehicles with internal combustion engines, by a certain year, without securing the commitment from industry to produce enough Electric Vehicles to meet the resulting demand; the Far Right, by excoriating present immigration policy, then refusing to work with their counterparts in Congress, to resolve the issue. The solutions that each offers are non-starters, that are essentially designed to simply “make the other guy look bad”, and solving nothing.
There are others, coming from both sides, but I shift the focus to my own situation. Things happened, or didn’t happen, this morning, which could have provoked me into attempting to “resolve issues”. Instead, I chose to do nothing. These are matters which it is best to let play out, and resolve themselves. That may not be possible in the larger social issues-but one thing is clear: No problems can truly be solved, by coming up with solutions when no issue exists.
Day for Honour, and La Posada
January 15, 2024- I woke up a bit later than usual, which was okay, despite the looming Monday morning coffee klatch, the march from Prescott College and the presentation of speeches in honour of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, on what would have been his 95th birthday. I missed them all, arriving in Prescott, from Winslow, at 12 Noon.
That’s okay. My priority was getting back safely, and given the fair amount of homeward bound traffic, that’s what I did. There was also the promise I made to a special friend, that I would visit La Posada Hotel, for about 10-15 minutes and take selected photos of the last hotel built by Fred Harvey and Mary Colter, his primary architect. She did not request this, mind you, but anything I can share with her about Arizona, the Southwest, and my meanderings in general, has a fair importance.
Backing up, just a bit, my room last night, at Delta Motel, had a military veteran motif. That was gratifying, as I did my time in the Army, 1969-72. The soldier’s camouflage uniform, boots and canteen were on display. It was as if his spirit watches over those who take the room. At any rate, I enjoyed a restful sleep.
Sipp Shoppe, my favourite eatery in Winslow, is about two blocks from La Posada, which has its own establishment, the Turquoise Room. The latter is a place where reservations are required, and I would go, for a special occasion-say, if my above-mentioned friend visits, and wants to see the Winslow area. So, this morning, one of Sipp’s smooth breakfast burritos and a large coffee sufficed.
Along those lines, and because I have had a curiosity about La Posada, here are several of the features of this classic hotel, still in the process of restoration.
The structure that houses Tina’s many works is marvel, in itself. There is varied use of light-and un-light.
So went my first visit to this splendid structure. I should like to return at some point, during the warmer months, when the gardens are in full bloom. For today, I headed back to Home Base 1, and later went to serve dinner at Solid Rock, as per a regular Monday evening-but with the twist that it is a national Day of Service.
Up, Down and All-around
January 14, 2024, Winslow- I went into the Welcome Center, to set up for an online meeting, and found that my favoured spot was occupied-first come, first served. It would have been awkward, anyway, as the table is in the area of a looping introductory video-and many new guests were set to arrive today. So, the Acting Director of Ghost Ranch gratuitously let me use a section of her office, for the meeting, which, since it drew only one other person, was a brief one.
I next went to the gift shop (“Trading Post”) and purchased note cards, on which I may write my mother. Then, I packed up and loaded the car. In that process, I saw that I was missing a certain item, looking high and low for it-to no avail. The Aha! moment told me to go back towards Gallup, the way I came.
Before that, though, I called someone who had asked for a ride to AZ, to check on the status of the roads in that area. When it was stated that the road required four-wheel drive, and that, on balance, the person was uncertain about making the trip, I bid farewell, which wasn’t entirely the response that was desired. Oh, well. I promised my loved ones to practice safety first.
I said goodbye to the Ghost Ranch staff, thanking them for all that they gave us this week. It’s truly been both a wake-up call, for what I still need to do, spiritually and socially AND a reward for having made a continuous effort at self-improvement.
The drive back towards Cuba, NM was much more delightful than last Sunday’s drive to GR, as the roads were bare today. When I got to Cuba, I stopped for lunch at Chaco Grill. The owner, who is a friend, had found the item I was missing, and had secured it, intuiting that I would be by to check. So, all was well again!
Getting to Gallup, before sunset, I decided to continue on to Holbrook, then to Winslow. So now I am at some other friends’ establishment-Delta Motel. Tonight, I was given the Veterans’ Room , themed in honour of one of the family’s members who had served in the Army. His uniform and other equipment are here in the room.
Winslow is a fun town, and also good for at least a night’s rest.
Ghost Ranch, Day 6: Stone Carving and An Exhibit’s Opening
January 13, 2024, Ghost Ranch- Soapstone is a delight to shape. I attended a stone carving workshop, this afternoon. The piece was roughly heart-shaped, and brightly mottled, so I filed away the rough edges and sanded the surface, six times-four dry and two wet. Wet sanding helps to establish a sheen on the piece. The instructor will apply a finish to the piece and it will be ready for me to take back to Arizona. I will use a crafting awl, or other fine pointed hand tool, to put a hole in a central spot, through which a small chain can be threaded. Then, voila, a hand-fashioned gift can be sent to a certain someone!
After the workshop, I attended the Grand Opening of a photo exhibit: ”Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse”. It is not ghoulish, like the traditional images based on The Book of Revelation. This exhibit, of the work of Chemehuevi photographer Cara Romero, features four First Nations women on horseback. Two are clad in traditional garb and two are dressed in ranch wear. There is also a short video, explaining “behind the scenes” aspects of the project. For shared photographs, see: https://www.facebook.com/CaraRomeroPhotography/
It has been a most satisfying week, in an amazing and spiritually-uplifting place. Surely, it’d be more comfortable outside, in the milder seasons. Winter, though, has a way of both bringing us to focus inward, fine tune what is still a weakness and bring clarity of vision. I have helped renovate a common room, secure the safety of pedestrians and bury a small bird that froze to death.
Tomorrow, I will have the morning here, then, depending on weather conditions, it’ll be time to head either south and west, or just plain west. I know I will be back to Ghost Ranch, at some point in the not-too-distant future, either solo or with a special friend. This year has gotten off to an auspicious start, in a few respects.
Ghost Ranch, Day 5: Search for Connections
January 12, 2024, Ghost Ranch- Have you ever pondered our connections to Nature? Have you ever pondered just how well you understand self? These questions were raised at the pre-breakfast coffee table, as five of us decided that lack of connectivity to the Internet was hardly worthy of sapping our spirits-or our thought processes.
My connection to Nature has led me to the forest, the desert, the tall-grass prairie-and the ocean-almost since I learned to walk. Understanding myself has been a lengthier, and sometimes thornier, process. The key, I have noticed, is applying unconditional love to self-thus opening the door to understanding why I had certain emotional baggage,and making it easier to rid myself of it. I also recognized that I couldn’t, in good faith, claim to have unconditional love for others, unless I had it for myself first.
The Baha’i traditions teach us that we are all connected to those around us, progressively through family, community, nation, species and life form, then to all forms of energy. We are connected to visible and invisible, Earthbound and universal. The search for evidence of these connections is what has fueled most, if not all, voyages, experiments and social movements, since the discovery of fire, and perhaps earlier. There is, in a place of unconditional love, only unity, only understanding. Neither of these mean acceptance of injustice, marginalization and unconditional self-denial. The Creator did not intend for one person,or group, to lord it over all others. Indeed, Baha’u’llah writes, in The Hidden Words: ” O Son of Spirit! The best beloved of all things in My sight is justice…..”. Justice springs forth from truly unconditional love.
Later in the day, a co-worker asked about my late wife, and how I had adjusted to her passing, as he had more recently experienced the same type of loss. He asked about my recently beginning a friendship with another woman, implying that he found hope from my experience. As I have mentioned earlier, my spirit guides, of whom Penny is definitely one, have let me know that they approve of this new friendship, having arranged the spiritual energy that led to our meeting.
I learned, a while back, that when one tries to force a connection or relationship, that is when the tie is impaired, or severed. I have done such a thing, and have had it done to me. Letting each person be who their best self is, even helping her/him realize that best self, constitutes the best manifestation of unconditional love. This is perhaps the greatest realization coming from my time here at Ghost Ranch.
A Sagittarian Seeker 