Completion

2

September 2, 2019, Superior, AZ-

Persistence,

and attention to detail,

lead to completion.

Cutting corners

leads to stagnation,

or to wasted time.

A small group got

together,

and worked on

an onerous task,

largely finishing

in five days’ time.

The rest will depend on

dryer conditions,

which in Arizona

is just a matter of time.

An entrepreneur has moved

her shop, three doors down

from where she was.

There will be a grand opening

of the new place,

tomorrow.

There was considerable

attention to detail,

even redoing some preparation,

that was set back,

when an opponent of her move,

scrawled graffiti on the storefront,

to “prevent gentrification”.

When an area is unused

and there is no tenant,

occupying the spot

is not gentrification.

It is taking responsibility.

It is  moving a community

towards completion.

 

On Justice

4

September 1, 2019-

“O SON OF SPIRIT! The best beloved of all things in My sight is Justice; turn not away therefrom if thou desirest Me, and neglect it not that I may confide in thee. By its aid thou shalt see with thine own eyes and not through the eyes of others, and shalt know of thine own knowledge and not through the knowledge of thy neighbor. Ponder this in thy heart; how it behooveth thee to be. Verily justice is My gift to thee and the sign of My loving-kindness. Set it then before thine eyes.”- Baha’u’llah

I spent much of the day today, pondering the operational definition of justice.  Baha’u’llah is writing about Divine Justice, which takes into consideration all sides of an issue, instantaneously.

That, of course, is something that takes a lot longer for us mortals.  We have different ideas, based on the particular doctrine or interpretation of Scripture, as to what Divine Justice even means.  How much more does the meaning of everyday justice find wildly different viewpoints, largely dependent on one’s life experiences and view of the world.

What triggered this was my having been followed, closely, by another motorist this afternoon, whilst running some errands downtown.  Traffic was unusually heavy for a Sunday, and Driver A was on the verge of road rage, over the spillover effect of traffic bunched up, through two lights.  I, being immediately in front of him, caught a long horn blast, two seconds after the light had turned green and whilst I was waiting to turn left.  Prescott’s left turn arrows are few and far between, so I had to wait for oncoming traffic to pass, which infuriated him even more.  He followed me to my next left turn, then leaned on the horn again, when I was waiting for yet another care to pass straight ahead. Then, he decided to go straight himself, and the air was peaceful once more.

Which was the justice, and for whom?  I grew up with my Dad, some uncles and my driving instructor telling me that there is seldom a black and white, when it comes to traffic.  The seemingly brash and rude driver gets his/her attitude from somewhere-ranging from an inbred sense of entitlement (actually quite rare, even today) to a very real amount of pressure-from a spouse, from an employer or client, from a participant in our appointment-driven society or from society-at-large.  The people going straight were going by a centuries-old, universally-accepted tradition of traffic flow, as was yours truly.  The belligerent Driver A was just pushing an envelope, which the rest of us could not fathom.

Justice, then, can’t immediately be understood by one and all.  It takes what my mother instilled in us: The pondering of other people’s circumstances and, to a point, willingness to make adjustments to our own behaviour.  I thought of this point as well, after a local resident was beaten by a man who demanded she give him cash or phone cards.  The case is winding its way through the justice system, and has made its way to social media.  As these two elements of modern life are frequently at odds, you can imagine the status of the investigation.  Everything, from women’s rights to fair treatment of the homeless, factors into such a case.

As we move forward, perhaps seeing justice for what it really is, the end product of love, would be a good place to start.

The Cleansing

0

August 31, 2019-

The day began with my usual Saturday ritual:  Get up, sans alarm, devotions, coffee& paper and a visit to Farmer’s Market.  What is different today was the call to clean up.  A local business owner found an abandoned homeless camp near and around his property, in a wooded area by Granite Creek, one of Prescott’s many streams.  The creek flows into Watson Lake, a reservoir that is also a prime boating and fishing venue.  Thus, it’s a good idea to keep the watershed clean of trash and debris, a notion that has not been front and center for those who regard themselves as desperate for a place to live, or for those who rousted the squatters out of their encampment, nearly a month ago.

One longtime friend of the owner has been steadfast in helping him clean the place, over the past three days.  I joined them today, and will do so again on Monday morning and any morning that I am not working, Wednesday-Friday of the coming week.  Much of the large items, like  tents, blankets, coats, and sleeping bags were bagged and set for disposal on Tuesday.  Disclosure:  NONE of the items are salvageable, as water and mud have rendered them useless.  This is the cost of “sweeps”, and of random, ungoverned squatter camps.

That brings up a broader issue:  The matter of personal responsibility for self and for community.  The lay minister who was my partner on this endeavour, this morning, raised a valid point as to the tendency of people to leave solutions to issues to government- or to some other group.  Many people in Prescott, and in other places across the globe, tell themselves that it’s the government’s job to tend to social issues.  This attitude can be shown either vocally(including online posts, telling the police, Parks & Recreation, etc. to “Do their job”) or by attrition (i.e. volunteering for an activity, then just not showing up).

I was, thankfully, raised to take responsibility for the neighbourhood and/or the community, and trust me, I was not always the kind of child who wanted to get out and volunteer for such projects.  My parents kept after us anyway, and instilled that sense of community involvement.

There are as many ways to “cleanse” a community and build its strength, as there are people.  The Red Cross effort to make sure smoke alarms are working, in modular homes and more conventional dwellings, is also an effort that is gaining steam here.

Lastly, the cultural strength of a community matters greatly, in building a civil society.  The Folk Sessions and Concerts at the the Court House are a major piece of this effort, as are the art fairs, soccer matches and the Farmer’s Market itself.  Last night, an intrepid young woman,who I am proud to regard as a friend, made Prescott a stop on her way from Portland to Boston, just for the sake of supporting the musical scene in a town that welcomed her, three years ago.

There are many ways to build a community-and I know of shut-ins who make quilts or stuff backpacks for needy kids, in the new school year, or the disabled man who fashioned an “adventure train” for stray dogs, whom he takes out of the shelter, two or three days a week. I am fortunate to still be able to be of more ambulatory service, and thank my spirit guides and the Creator for this.

Just, let’s not pass the buck back to the next one, or to the Government.

Night of the Crescent Moon

6

August 30, 2019-

I know you are supremely confident

and making this choice,

still I fret and will look,

tomorrow, to make sure

you made it safely home.

You sang your heart out tonight,

and captivated everyone,

just as you surely won the hearts

of those for whom you gave your best,

last night, a thousand miles away,

and will tomorrow,

on the other side of this land.

Some would say I ought not worry,

but it’s my nature,

to want the best

for everyone who has my heart.

Your muses are many

as are your allies.

 

 

 

 

Dribs and Drabs

9

August 29, 2019-

It’s been a fine week, so far.  I just feel like making a few random observations, today.

The National Weather Service has one forecast for Prescott, from now til October:  Sunny and warm.  The skies, though, have their own ideas.  One area, or another, of Yavapai County has had a fairly good soaking, the past few days.  This is what is most likely to continue.

A few shout-outs to local residents:

My Red Cross volunteer partner, Jenn Winters-Ashcraft, has largely been the force behind our finally canvassing homes in western Yavapai, for working smoke alarms. This endeavour will compete with substituting, on my own schedule.  Money aside, it’s academic (no pun intended) as to which is more important for our community.

Mr. Matt Williams is spearheading the clean-up of an abandoned homeless encampment along Prescott’s main waterway, Granite Creek.  Yours truly is part of that, as well.

The Boars Head girl, at Sprouts, offered us kids a fine deal on cold cuts & cheese, so I have had four days’ lunches all covered, for a reasonable price.

A variety of workers, across business fields, are holding down the fort in this season of high heat, for their less heat-tolerant colleagues.  I have seen this in at least a dozen places, this week.

When someone is uncomfortable in another person’s presence, it falls to that other person to give the uneasy one some space.

The Epstein Horror Project is finished, kaput-but the victims will long need the support of every decent human being.

The Amazon Basin Horror Project, it seems, is just getting started.  Sorry, but there is no comparison between the willful decimation of a global resource and the accidental spark that set Notre Dame Cathedral alight.  The very farmers being sent to do this dirty work are bound to be among its first victims.

I look forward to a weekend of celebration. God bless the workers whose efforts are tantamount to acts of worship.

Summer is almost, “officially”, over.  Friends, don’t worry about wearing white after Monday.  We have at least three weeks of heat left.

 

 

Gathering My Moss

0

August 28, 2019-

I have, at long last, begun writing a series of chapters that outline my life. So far, I have covered up to sixth grade, which has taken four chapters.  I find my long term memory is amazingly intact, a comforting discovery, as this exercise is as much for healing and inner peace, as it is for the sake of memoir.

The remaining six decades will take some time, being as they have been far more involved and take in a lot more territory-both geographic and psychological- than my first, somewhat sheltered, eleven years.

As it is a highly personal account, this volume will be first shared with family, then in a publish on demand arrangement with friends. For now, I am keeping it on Google Drive and will run things by my son, siblings and mother, once I get to a certain point, probably the sections on my high school graduation and transition into adulthood.

Again, the purpose of this is to process and clear up any remaining conflicts within myself, which is one of the insights I drew from a recent energy wave healing session.

The Wheat and the Chaff

3

August 26, 2019-

Sitting at home, this sultry evening, working on a project for a friend, I got this insistent message to walk downtown, and visit Frannie’s, a frozen yogurt shop and bakery.  Setting the work a side, I headed into the bright sunset and, ten minutes later, found myself one of two patrons, in the final thirty minutes of  the shop’s open hours.

The other patron, it turned out, was an 81 year-old farmer from a small village about 35 miles to the southwest.    We chatted about a steak house in the village, and how it hangs on, week after week, with a great facility but few customers.  The owner of the steak house hails from somewhere in the Northeast.

That led to a discourse about our current President, one of his rivals and a group of Congresswomen, and how being immersed in the culture of a certain area makes one behave, consistently, in a certain way.  The gentleman expressed concerns about the motives of those who oppose our current President, whom he regards as a crusader.

I chose to listen, and not counter any of this, as it’s all going to turn out as it is supposed to transpire.  I am not much of a political animal, preferring to work across the spectrum as, the last time I checked, we were all put here to work together.  It may not always be easy to hear theories that seem made from whole cloth, yet they are only that-theories, which are subject to change, in light of new information.  This is as true of some notions that I have had, as it is of anyone else’s.

Just as his comments were about to turn into a rant, my former co-worker, her husband, daughter and daughter’s boyfriend emerged from the shop.  Delighted greetings, and exchanges of how things were going for each of us, took the next few minutes. Learning that an all-woman staff was in place, in my former work site, is an affirmation of what I said above:  The right thing happens, even if after a fashion.

Once the family left, our conversation turned to health practices.  At first, he admonished me for not having taken better care of myself, en route to age 70.  I mentioned some things that I AM doing, on my own behalf, and he relented a bit.  The gems of wisdom he then imparted, struck me as the main reason I was led to go to the shop, in the first place.

Baking soda and vinegar could augment my efforts at trimming down (Slim shakes from do Terra, along with more fruits and vegetables).  It would have to be good quality baking soda, with the Vinegar of the Four Thieves that I have on hand.  Check, for tomorrow morning!  He seconded my use of frankincense and melaleuca, for skin issues.  My exercise regimen sounded just fine.  So, his theory of a decrepit sixty-something was cast aside, with new information.

I still have work to do.  It was a walk well-taken.

The Shift

2

August 25, 2019-

It’s been long in coming,

this being able to empty my mind,

and to sit, just taking in the stillness.

It’s been so much the focus of longing,

this being able to go about and not

have a thousand thoughts and scenarios

distracting me from what is here and now.

It’s such a relief,

to be with people and not concern myself

with the superfluous,

with how people look,

but rather to focus on how they are,

and of what they dream.

Stillness, presence and depth of character

cannot be forced,

as someone tried to do with me,

last autumn.

They must be brought out

by love, by patience, by a sense of balance.

Better

2

August 24, 2019-

The father of one of the 19 Wildland Firefighters who died in the 2013 Yarnell Hill fire, gave me a wristband that his son had devised, shortly before his death, that said, simply, “Be Better”.  Andrew used this to remind himself, and his loved ones, to strive daily for self-improvement.  So, I am deeply honoured that I should have this wristband to wear.

I have also had this as my motivating force, climbing out of various ruts and working to treat those around me with ever more consideration and equanimity, especially over the past eight years.  Every so often, I slip.  We all do.  The wristband will help remind me to not let any provocation set me on a downward path.

This brings me to the natural inclination that we have, to attack what we don’t understand, perhaps thinking that, if there is enough vehemence in one’s voice, the “bad guy” will go away.  This is a much more tightly-connected world than in the days of White and Black Hats.  Those we fear and loathe tend to hang out on the fringes, rather than just disappearing.

So, improving oneself  not only takes on an increased urgency, it also serves as a beacon for even those who regard us with loathing.  “Be Better” does not draw a concrete trench  between us; it beckons us to resolve that which stands between us.

It is no secret that I have friends across the political spectrum, standing only against bullying and violent, excluding behaviour.  A person’s viewpoint is always subject to being challenged; but it is theirs to explain, and to hold, and hopefully to expose to new information.

I learned that one of my more politically conservative friends passed away, at a very young age, a few days ago.  I will miss our sharing of visits to Indiana Dunes and her accounts of the beauty of Brown County, in the south central part of Indiana,  and I will miss her keen mind, while remembering that my more moderate views on things Federal did not always sit well with her.  Being better, though, always resonated with A, even as it does with several of  her fellow conservatives and many of my more liberal and progressive friends.

One needs no one’s agreement, or permission, to work on oneself, after all.

Our House, Tonight

2

August 23, 2019-

It was Shayna’s house, tonight,

filling the air with empowerment,

and hope, for women of all ages.

Bringing the fire of the Russian steppes,

by way of Long Beach,

she made the heart of Prescott soar.

It was Dea’s house, tonight,

filling the room with dance,

and joy, to everyone who came and went.

Bringing the love of the ages,

through the grace of her aunts,

she made the spirits of

at least five Levels

of the Universe,

shine with delight.

It was my house, tonight,

sipping a cold brew coffee,

sitting  at a high-top table,

keeping a quiet place,

for one and all

to stand nearby,

to dance in bliss,

to collect thoughts,

to feel a warm safety.

The Raven was our house, tonight.