Staying Centered

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August 31, 2024- After running into a couple of Prescott’s elite, this evening, and being greeted with a nod and a sneer, I used Next Door.com to speak to those who would promote Progressive values, many of which are laudable. The progressive elite in this community tend to speak from their heads, not their hearts. After absorbing this, and “sucking it up”, for thirteen years, I finally had enough and let them know. Anyone who wants to foster the community has to first love the people. Having intellectual knowledge of what would be useful does nothing to help, unless the heart is in sync. We have seen the effects of a purely intellectual approach to social discourse and common issues, time and again: Soviet Communism, Kampuchea (Cambodia), North Korea, Cuba, Nicaragua and Venezuela-none a bit better than Hitler’s Germany, apartheid-era South Africa, or the enslavement culture of the Antebellum United States, in my book. The heart and head have to be in synchronicity, or the best ideas will die on the vine.

I will shortly be headed to the Philippines, and will spend 5-7 weeks in heart-focused work, all the while keeping a clear head. Some days, I will be in modern accommodations; other days, in small huts, or maybe sometimes in a lean-to. At all times, though, my heart is looking to my mind for direction-and vice versa. In a time of rapid change,which will only accelerate in the final months of this year, such centeredness is the only guarantee of real sanity. One of my well-wishers here in Prescott told me, this afternoon, that there is nothing I have done, in the past three or four years, that is “ordinary or uninteresting”. That may be an overstatement, but it is comforting. It also underscores my need for staying centered.

So does a long month come to an end, and my preparation for a time of lightning-fast change begin. May all be in harmony.

Inside Track

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August 30, 2024- Johnny and Matthew Gaudreau decided to spend the eve of their sister’s wedding bicycling near their family home in southern New Jersey. Not far away, someone else decided to spend the evening getting drunk. In a matter of an hour or so, the twain met.

Driving home, the drunken man became annoyed by the driver in front of him, who was going the speed limit, and then “inexplicably”slowed down. The careful driver eased to the left, so the impatient one decided he’d show who was boss, and passed on the inside-in Driver A’s blind spot-and…..hit the two bicyclists, killing both of them. Thus were the lives of six families- Johnny’s wife and children; Matthew’s wife and unborn child; the greater family Gaudreau; their prospective brother-in-law’s; the family of Driver A and that of the drunkard himself ( a decorated military veteran, and father of two) , irreparably upended and altered.

It is time to make passing a vehicle on the inside an illegal act, especially in areas where cycling is active. The practice used to be actively discouraged-at least in my home state of Massachusetts, when I was learning to drive. Back then, roads were seemingly half as crowded as now, and there was a lot more civility-and accountability. Errant drivers were more likely to be cited by the police, and called out by their fellow drivers, not by road rage or a raised middle finger, but face to face, in an admonishing manner. End of digression.

There is much about the culture of driving that makes no sense anymore-and it all derives from tunnel vision, a lack of awareness that there are in fact others around, whose lives matter as much as one’s own. We go about, almost on auto pilot, many “burned out” by life, or distracted by what’s next on the agenda and absolutely convinced that there is nothing more important than that next big, or little, thing.

Now, three children will grow up without their fathers and two others will probably see theirs only fleetingly. A loving couple will wed, in time, and two widows will raise their children, with a vow to “make their Daddy proud of them.” The horror of August 29, 2024 will ebb, but never completely go away-as such horrors are wont to never do.

Impatience, impaired judgment and insolence will continue to claim innocent victims, until the day comes when we look the beast in the eye and say “No more”. Such is the legacy of the Inside Track.

No Scrap Heap

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August 29, 2024- “What of us, who are also your friends?”, the voice from 7,500 miles away came, through the medium of the printed Message. This was in reply to my statement that I surely must consult with my dear friend and with Faith community sponsors, before setting an itinerary for service work and other visits, a scant fourteen days from now.

That, however, does not inherently leave anyone out of my life. The Universe has a way of bringing people together when they are supposed to connect. My activities, both here at Home Base I and across North America, especially this year, have fallen into place at precisely the right time for all concerned. I have no reason to believe it will be any different during the upcoming sojourn in the Philippines. The only thing for certain is that, as always anymore, I am determined to not be a burden to anyone. Consultation will help obviate such a state of affairs.

The bottom line is, no one need feel consigned to the scrap heap. We need one another, more than ever, in this time of rapid change, which is likely to only accelerate over the next sixteen months, or longer. Lack of consultation and dearth of appreciation, breed conjecture, false narratives, conspiracy theories and outright mistrust. I will most likely have time to visit with the querulous friend. The visit will fall into the place that it is meant to occupy.

Focus and Count

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August 28,2024- Her head spinning, the excitable teen threw up her hands and announced she was too stupid to figure how to do Scientific Notation. Looking at the arcane samples written on the white board, I could see where she, and several others, had come to that conclusion.

It’s not them; it’s the system of instruction. Focusing on maintaining order, I vowed to look up the matter in the quiet of my Home Base. So, should one want to write the number 168,275,000 in Scientific Notation, it would be necessary to move the decimal point (presently after the right-most zero) far enough to the left that the whole number,1, is followed by .68275000. Then, count the digits to the right of the decimal point. There are eight of them. This translates to 1.68275000 x 10 to the eighth power, or ten with an exponent of 8 . This laptop will not write it properly, but anyone who has had Algebra I knows what I mean. I will write it on the white board for all to see, tomorrow.

Focus and count is also necessary, when trying to make a rational, evidence-based decision that balances a heart conviction. Many men in their late teens and twenties have spoken of wanting to see a decisive, “macho” leader, who will, essentially, make the trains run on time-and shove all obstacles aside. That was tried, nearly a hundred years ago, in several countries of Europe. It’s been tried in several other countries since, with limited results, actually.

Historical evidence shows that human nature gets in the way of a machine-like system that knocks all obstacles to the side. The “macho” leader is still a human being and is subject to whims, fancies, and other emotions, which can and do make him/her go overboard. The leader, for example, may misjudge the nature of a an event or a phenomenon, convincing self and supporters that their way is the only way to get through the morass. The problem itself being complex, there are disappointments, setbacks and unrest that come before its resolution, and thinking outside the box, something often anathema to the authoritarian, to the hidebound elders and the unseasoned youth who support his/her efforts, is exactly what is needed to resolve the issue.

The same thing can happen with a top-heavy bureaucracy, which will, in its turn, bring another call for an authoritarian system. Red-tape vendors don’t like divergence of opinion, either. The fact remains, though, that the universe of problems can only be soothed by exactly such diversity. There are matters that can only be resolved by a trusted executive; others that require limited, but vigourous, debate and consensus and others that demand universal participation.

Many matters require that those involved focus, and count.

Sour Into Sweet

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August 27, 2024- It was probably the overripe cucumber. I felt out of sorts, even had a tinge of self-pity, through the morning, after drinking a shake that had the cucumber and a few remaining blueberries, mixed with chocolate protein powder. The day had to go on, though, so I walked downtown and had half of a nice reuben sandwich and green salad for lunch. With the right, professionally cordial, but neutral, baristas, a meal at County Seat is always delightful.

That seemed to even things up a bit, and after a power nap, I took a bunch of things that I will never use again, and donated them to the DAV thrift store. Then I finally went over to Best Buy and picked up a CD player that actually works. That obviates getting rid of compact discs, many of which I have not heard since both computers and vehicles ditched their CD slots.

After a workout at Planet Fitness and a take-out taco meal, (I can eat one per serving this way), the day has ended sweetly. It must have been the overripe cucumber.

Whose Mess?

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August 26, 2024- A clumsy man tipped over a full rubbish barrel and lots of stuff came tumbling out. He uttered a mild oath, then stepped aside, and watched as several volunteers cleaned up the spilled items. Appeals from a church elder, for him to pitch in and help, were spaced out and he went outside. Such is dealing with the mentally ill.

I was raised to clean up after myself; most people, I suspect, were, as well. That some will be unable to comprehend that simple social grace is a feature of a society in which “bubbles” are celebrated and “you do you” is seen by many as a virtuous mindset. Avoidance of responsibility is seen as a necessity, a means to guarantee survival “to fight another day”.


Today marked the third anniversary of the explosion at Abbey Gate, at Kabul Airport, resulting in the deaths of thirteen U.S. service people. There was a wreath laying, at Arlington National Cemetery and there was a taking of ownership for the tragedy-two acknowledgements of the pain inflicted on thirteen families, by two radically divergent public figures.

I have a history of assuming responsibility for the messes I’ve either made, or appear to have made-lapses of taking responsibility in my teen years, and in the 2000s, aside. Nobody’s perfect. In the long run, I have had to account for those lapses, too-just as any public servant has to do what the sitting Vice President did today, eventually.

In a world of dodgers, one who does take responsibility for gaffes and tragedies is going to be excoriated, often by the same people who themselves bend into pretzel shapes, in avoiding flack for their misdeeds. It doesn’t make the error in judgement any less severe, but it does detract from the healing process, for those directly hurt and for the public at large.

Healing requires taking responsibility, letting out of pain and reconciliation. It doesn’t allow for hiding and dodging. My earnest respect goes to those who died at Abbey Gate.

Those Others

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August 25, 2024- I went over to a pub where a friend works, but found friend was off-shift. I hadn’t been back there for some time, but enjoyed my usual: Non-alcoholic brew with a BLTA (bacon, lettuce, tomato and avocado). I don’t stay long, as the pace in that particular establishment is quite frenetic, not really a spot for conversations; it’s more for watching football games, or maybe the World Series, in October.

I mention this, because so much of our contact with others is fleeting. I tend to view people as friends, even when I don’t see them often. Some use the term “acquaintances”, which seems to me to be rather cold, though it’s a fair description of store clerks, or random people, with whom I interact maybe once or twice.

I just don’t see people as “others”. Their wants, needs and aspirations are just as valid as mine. This occurs to me in most, if not all, situations-from looking behind me to see if someone else needs to get through a door, turn into a parking lot which I may be crossing on foot, or approaching rapidly, (in which case I need to make a quick assessment of what the person may be trying to accomplish). This last rarely happens anymore. It’s also a good idea to be looking in all four (or five) directions, when driving, as any given motorist could be engaged in any number of tasks, or headed for any number of destinations, experiencing any number of emotions. It is often described as “maddening”, but that is a big reason why I leave a lot of time between leaving where I am parked and where I am headed.

There is also the quality of interactions between my friends and I. Any one of us could be going through a plethora of emotional stresses, which we just might not want to lay on a given person-so taking the measure of a person’s body language, heeding their request to NOT speak of a given subject and cutting her/him some slack when a less than congenial vibe is offered are each key to continuing said friendship, if not strengthening it. Even silence, for a period of time, is not a red flag of impending separation.

I get on better, when not thinking “That’s THEM, that’s THOSE OTHERS, not me”. We’re all in the bubble.

Even Flow

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August 24, 2024- Friend catalogued this past year in his life, as today was his birthday. He spoke of his life having run the gamut of emotions, experiences, trials and tribulations, successes and affirmations. He spoke of how fear was what kept him down and led him down a path of paranoia, isolation and self-defeat. On the darkest of those days, strange things happened in the afternoon: He got a job offer, was accepted into a Masters Program and met a woman who has proven to be a near perfect match. The young man I saw this evening is the polar opposite of the individual I have encountered on this day, for the past three years.

It is breathtaking, what faith in the Divine, and a decision to not focus on what one doesn’t want from life,but rather determine what is wanted, can bring into being. I have been through every one of the ups and downs that my young friend catalogued this evening. Only focusing on what I want, rather than obsessing over avoiding the opposite, has turned things around, to where life is joyful. It is never perfect, but this life is not meant for perfection; that will come in another realm.

Several years ago, the band Pearl Jam performed a song entitled “Even Flow”, about the plight of the homeless. In reading the lyrics, I can attest to the subject of the song as having much in common with a lot of us. Any vision of quality of life that depends on the good graces of everyone else is putting the cart in front of the horse, with all the confusion and frustration that implies.

Realizing that one is a soul who is worthy of respect, of good things and of the love of others is the first step in personal renaissance. The rest is day by day actions, great and small. I look forward to watching, as my young friend builds the life he so wants. I also look forward to what life has in store for me, over the next several years. Water goes around obstacles; the flow remains even.

[Verse 1]
Freezin’
Rests his head on a pillow made of concrete, again
Oh, feelin’
Maybe he’ll see a little better set of days, ooh, yeah

Oh, hand out
Faces that he sees time again ain’t that familiar, ooh, yeah
Oh, dark grin
He can’t help, when he’s happy he looks insane, hm, yeah

[Chorus]
Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know, so he chases them away (ooh)

Oh, someday yet, he’ll begin his life again
Life again, life again

[Verse 2]
Kneelin’
Lookin’ through the paper, though he doesn’t know to read, ooh, yeah

Oh, prayin’
Now to something that has never showed him anything

Oh, feelin’
Understands the weather of the winter’s on its way
Oh, ceilings
Few and far between all the legal halls of shame, hey

[Chorus]
Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know, so he chases them away

Oh, someday yet, he’ll begin his life again
Ah, whisperin’ hands gently lead him away
Him away, him away

Another Banner Day

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August 23, 2024- The little girl introduced herself, about ten minutes after the first group of students came in. When I told her of a newborn baby who shared her name, she shrugged and said “There are a lot of us”.

There was much that was matter-of-fact about this group of children. Even the most squirrely of kids were most responsive when expectations were clearly stated, and most resistant, when they thought I was listening to tattle tales. Those last were discouraged from their snooping and the wayward ones settled down.

Today was a shorter work day, so it took no adjustment to go over and pick up my healed Lenovo, which basically just needed to be cleaned up, internally. We are all set for the next few months, which will be quite full of the unexpected, even aside from my journey across the Pacific.

My family achieved another milestone, of a nature personal to my siblings and me. This is just one less matter that might have been irritating. It was handled professionally and well. It gives me confidence that we are each on the right track in our respective lives.

Another well-lived week has passed, giving more strength for what lies ahead.

Keeping the Cup Half Full

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August 22, 2024- There was a reason for no assignments being posted on the board, or left on the desk, this afternoon, for the two classes I was to monitor. The rub came with getting past the Byzantine system of electronic access, with passwords and buzzwords all in place to keep hackers and assorted miscreants at bay. The Administration’s best and brightest was able to get through the maze and all I had to do, when classes changed, was click on a few transitional buttons.

In the end, the two classes were satisfied that their time had not been wasted and the on-line Streamed instructor was happy, as well. Electronic education has survived its pandemic initiator and assumed a worthy life of its own. We could even hear one another, from four buildings away.

The cup remains half full, even if at times the struggle is real- Technical snags, long silences, irritable people and traffic snarls are in everyone’s life. I was taught, a while back, to work at not making any of it about me. Dad found that this was the only way to avoid getting jaded about life. In my own experience, it’s also been spot on.

The notion of walking through challenges, rather than around them, or backpedaling the other way, has also served me nicely. There have been relatively few cases where I have been totally on my own, or when Penny and I were left to our own devices, back in the day. In those instances, I/we made mistakes, but the right thing eventually happened. Seeing life as a half full glass means working through pain, when it comes, and coming out the other side.

God knows this is how one survives and thrives.