Author Archives: Sagittarian Seeker

The Road to 65, Mile 46: Gaiea

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January 13, 2015, Prescott- (This is my third attempt at this post.  Word Press has CENSORED the first two).

Now, then, there are many who are bothered by the idea of world government, including, apparently the people who run this site.  I will once again address three areas of concern that have been expressed to me by good friends who are political conservatives, and presenting the Baha’i point of view on each.

1.  Global dictatorship:  Historically, every leader, or group, who have come to the fore by advancing themselves as Masters of the Planet, have been primarily interested in self-aggrandizement.  This has transcended the “men of their time” argument, which may have been applicable to Hammurabi, at the dawn of civilization- then again he wasn’t interested in ruling the planet. The others, from Nebuchadnezzar and Ramses II to Hitler, Stalin and Saddam Hussein, as well as the dangerous “wannabes” of Islamic State, have shown more than a slight narcissistic tinge to the eye of history. Naturally, then, people turn a jaundiced eye towards any call for an international government.

The Baha’i Teachings acknowledge the need for, and progression towards, an international governmental structure.  Our commercial systems have been global for several centuries now, and the systems of transportation and communication are commensurate with commerce.  Technology has advanced to the point of near instantaneous contact with all but the most remote communities in the world.  There are many conditions which are of concern to all residents of the planet.

The difference between the global system advocated by Baha’u’llah and those previously sought by authoritarian leaders is, simply, put:  The people of the world will bring the former into being, not by violent revolution and uncontrollable blood lust, but by a carefully considered and informed, “ground-up” democratic process.  There is no place in said global system for an army of jackbooted warriors, or for undisciplined thugs.

2.  Deception:  Scriptures of the past warn us to not fall for the honey-tongued promises of a false prophet.  This is sage advice.  Whenever change is widely-accepted as necessary, there are scores of individuals who come forth with “Our own” programs for healing the ills of the world.  Again, most of these prove to be rooted in narcissism, if not greed.  We are warned to “separate the wheat from the chaff” and “be alert to discern” good from evil masking as good.  We see these readily today, in those who predicate their acts of terror on service to the Prophet, or to the Lord.

The Baha’i Teachings call for independent investigation of truth, for comparing the lives of leaders with their words.  A life is a person’s most telling proof of honour and trustworthiness.  Baha’u’llah writes “Let deeds, not words, be your adorning.”  Universal, compulsory education is also essential, as an educated people are less likely to be duped.

3.  Loss of identity:  This is the primary allure of nationalist, tribalist and religious fundamentalist movements.  The fear of many is that, as large governments tend to be disconnected from the people they purport to rule, a global system would be far worse, and anonymity would befall the vast majority of the populace.  Therefore, the words are:  “Resist, stand your ground”.

Baha’u’llah teaches us to love unequivocally:  Oneself, family, neighbours,community, town or city, state, nation and planet.  In the world that is emerging, there is no need to sacrifice the social structure of the planet, at any level.  “Be fair to yourself, and others”.  “O ye beloved of the Lord! Commit not that which defileth the limpid stream of love or destroyeth the sweet fragrance of friendship. By the righteousness of the Lord! Ye were created to show love one to another and not perversity and rancour. Take pride not in love for yourselves but in love for your fellow-creatures. Glory not in love for your country, but in love for all mankind. Let your eye be chaste, your hand faithful, your tongue truthful and your heart enlightened. Abase not the station of the learned 139 in Bahá and belittle not the rank of such rulers as administer justice amidst you. Set your reliance on the army of justice, put on the armour of wisdom, let your adorning be forgiveness and mercy and that which cheereth the hearts of the well-favoured of God.”- LAWḤ-I-HIKMAT (Tablet of Wisdom)

I fully expect that, this time, this post will be on my site, to be read or ignored, freely, by those who happen upon it, without censorship.

The Road to 65, Mile 45: Baga

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January 12, 2015, Prescott- I have not been to Africa.  Many who have, are more interested in wildlife than in the teeming multitudes.  I do find myself thinking a great deal about those suffering millions, of late, especially in the continuing mystery of over 300 young women, just taken from their families- and supposedly having been “assigned” new ones.

As much of the world is focused on the victims of last week’s massacre in Paris, and rightly so, a brief notice appeared in our newspaper, with somewhat more commentary on BBC, regarding the small city of Baga, in northeast Nigeria.  There, 2,000 Muslims-men, women and children, were mowed down by operatives of Boko Haram.

Nigeria is starting to look like Cambodia, Rwanda and Syria.  It’s a big country, which prides itself on advancement.  So, maybe this is why the government has not raised a cry for help.  The people, though, sorely need the world to care.  Nigeria, as an entity, has needed for people to care, for a long time.  The oil-soaked Niger Delta makes the northwestern Gulf of Mexico look like the sweetest of paradises.

Baga is just the latest in a series of massacres, with the crazed head of Boko Haram making it clear he has no intention of treating anyone but the most loyal of his sycophants with even a smidgen of decency and respect.  Complicating matters is the collective behaviour of the Nigerian Army.  It is very hard for the average villager, or resident of a small city, especially in the north, to discern who, in a position of strength, can be trusted.  in the tradition of the worst elements of the British Colonials, This is the classic notion of “only by beating down everyone in sight, can we defend the realm.”

We are moving beyond that, as a species, and Nigerians deserve a place at the table of solace.  The narrow confines of tribalism, nationalism and the misinterpretation of Scripture to suit the fancies of unbalanced individuals are each going to fall away- either by those involved coming to their senses, or by forces which we can only vaguely imagine right now.  There can, in essence, no longer be a hierarchy of Those Who Matter, and Those Who Don’t.  I see a better day coming, and soon.

The Road to 65, Mile 44: “Pay Attention”

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January 11, 2015, Prescott Valley-  Autism is rarely depicted on the big screen.  We may see it on television, via at least one of the characters on the series, “Scorpion”.  Film, though, implies a consistent flow of action.  We who are autistic are prone to periods of calm and inaction, often accompanied by silence- hardly the stuff of a major box office success.

I joined a group at a Screen Actors Guild viewing of “The Imitation Game”, last night.  As this was a private viewing, there was none of the First Look, previews of coming attractions, or sitting afterwards to check out who played what part, as the credits roll.  There was a solid cast of British thespians:  Benedict Cumberbatch, in the lead, supported well by Keira Knightley, Matthew Goode, Charles Dance and Mark Strong.

The voice-over at the beginning admonishes the viewer to “Pay Attention”, all the more vital, given the slow pace of the film, during the first two-thirds of the story and the constant flip-flops, from one time period to the next.  I devoted myself to do just that; the task was made easier by the presence of another man, who had exemplary command of detail.

I was primarily interested in how an autistic like Alan Turing would be portrayed. Mr. Cumberbatch mastered both the autistic behaviour and the non-flamboyant homosexuality of Dr. Turing.  As his long-suffering assistants, Ms. Knightley and Mr. Goode reminded me of the best of my friends from youth and early adulthood.  My wife largely carried me out of the fog of the Spectrum, much as Ms. Knightley’s character, both as his sham fiancee and as a genuine friend, managed to do, with Dr. Turing.

Attentiveness is a huge deal for someone like me.  Having worked so hard to be in the moment and stay out of the fog that’s in my head, I tune out the extraneous, and quite readily now.  If I am engaged in an activity, the phone goes to vibrate- or increasingly, totally off.  If I am working, the rest of life gets checked at the door.  If I am on the trail, everything on all sides, above and below, gets brought into my awareness, as part of the natural experience.  If I am driving, I get irritated by any demand from a passenger to “notice ME and what I want”.  The road, and my fellow drivers, have my full attention.  Texting or talking on the phone, while behind the wheel, are foreign to me, especially since I am no longer a caretaker.

Pay attention- a good way to stay out of trouble, I’d say.

The Road to 65, Mile 43: Wild

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Personal goals

January 10, 2015, Prescott-  It has been, and remains, a dream of mine to hike at least one of the great north-south trails that grace our country.  Before the need to replenish my coffers arose, I had a plan to traverse the Appalachian Trail and Pacific Crest Trail in back-to-back years, 2018-19.  For various reasons, this particular pair of endeavours will wait until I am in my seventies- and it’ll happen, along with some other treks, during that decade, unless the Universe decrees otherwise.  Since this change of plans occurred to me in a dream-like state though, several weeks ago, I think it’ll hold.

Last night, I watched “Wild”, with Reese Witherspoon as the wild child who was tamed by the PCT.  As many of my travels have been inspired by visions of my late wife, so was Cheryl Strayed’s time on the Pacific Crest Trail spurred by thoughts of her mother, who had died of cancer, a few years before.  I could identify with her disquiet, on a number of levels.  Though I never had a serious hard-drug problem, and my alcohol abuse was history well before our marriage, the serious lapses in judgement and difficulty with forming attachments that Cheryl displayed had parallels in my own life, and as recently as 2013.  The PCT tamed her inner beast (shadowed as it was by the fox in the film).  Extensive journeys around North America in 2011-13 and the northwest of Europe, as well as across the eastern Pacific, last year, brought my poisonous remnants to the surface and have established more clarity of vision.

Cheryl Strayed found stability afterward, in marriage and motherhood.  My own renewed stability is forming, not necessarily with another intimate relationship, but with the distinct possibility of finally taking charge of, and seeing through, a service-oriented project that will provide a modest and adequate income. Add to that the extra security offered by wellness advocacy, and the six years left of this decade will lend more credence to “Age is nothing but a number”.

The Road to 65, Mile 42: Denouement

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January 9, 2015, Prescott-   The people of France exercised their collective fury this morning, through the offices of their gendarmerie.  There was collateral damage, as happens in any conflict, but the three terror-mongers met their earthly end.  There will be no reward in the afterlife, for their acts of horror. There were reports that the woman who was with the Bakery Killer was on her way to ISIL Land.  I can’t imagine she is in for a warm reception there, but it would be equally uninviting for her in Europe, after this morning’s bloodbath.

There is a price for not considering the human race, in the course of pursuing one’s own twisted game plan.  John Donne warned us about this, centuries ago; Christ and Buddha, long before that.  Every single tyrant who has spat upon the needs of the common folk has met a sad end.  The same will happen to IS, to Boko Haram, Taliban, Al Shabab, the Rakhine Mabatha and the various drug cartels.

It is not a First World problem, and the current populace of Europe, or of North America, does not deserve to be forcibly driven back to a Medieval way of life, nor do the people of any other part of the world deserve to remain under such a yoke.  This is the Age of Responsibility, and every person on Earth is deserving of the pursuit of true happiness, which does not, and never will, come form kowtowing to the warped interpretations of  Scripture, being spewed forth by unhappy souls.

The last act in the tragedy of the past few days, may just have taken place, in the fire of this morning.  It may still be in the works, depending upon the subsequent actions of Hayat Boumedienne and whoever she draws into this conflict.  The end game, however, will not fall play out according to their plan.

The Road to 65, Mile 41: Solar Flares

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

January 8, 2015-   My energy lagged today, and so, it seems, did that of many others.  I always have to use slightly extra essential oil on these days.  Several people reported similar energy lags, sicknesses and other mood letdowns, over the past few days.  I read on Yahoo, earlier today, that there has been solar activity of late, and that this may be a determining factor in much of the energy lags.

Of course, just it being ridiculously cold can explain most of the ennui.  Here, though, the days are quite mild, in the low to mid-fifties during the day, and bracingly brisk in the mornings.  So, I will go, somewhat, with the solar explanation.

The connectedness of the Universe brings with it various flows.  There is a lot I don’t know about quantum mechanics, so I will leave it at this:  I have had deep dreams, and waking ones, in which I am in another realm.  The beings there imparted to me a sense of distance from everyone here with whom I am close.  Yet, it was not an unpleasant distance, just a means for me to see them as creatures of intense individuality, and that they are okay, even when I’m not here.  Likewise, I will be fine in a different dimension.

That said, I don’t have any health issues, nor do I feel a sense of impending doom.  If anything, the challenges of my life, such as they are, are being met and my network of support and friendship is growing every day.  Hope the solar flares subside, though, so that well-being is more widespread than it’s been, so far this week.

The Road to 65, Mile 40: Truth

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January 7, 2015, Prescott- Lunacy seems to regard itself as truth.  There are, however, parameters by which honest truth may be discerned.  I grew up with a skewed inner view of reality, filtered through the lens of my autism. Thankfully, I was surrounded by anchored parents, loving siblings and an amazing, varied and huge extended family of over 200 people, on both sides.  I also had concerned and engaged neighbours and teachers, for the most part.  People would notice when something was awry with me, and instead of gossiping and ridiculing, they went straight to my parents.

I have done just fine.  My friends and associates, in Arizona and around the world, have been nothing but a blessing in this long and joyful life.  So, I think of those who are not so fortunate.  So many have grown up in hateful or indifferent homes,  where their every word, every move, is questioned or discounted.  This is not just true of girls with misogynist fathers and self-hating mothers.  It happens with boys, also- and the standard can be held way too high, with no allowance for error.

Truth, then, becomes a relative thing.  The hurried, browbeaten, and unrecognized child becomes a prisoner in a surreal existence.  That person’s expressions of reality become twisted, hateful, and fraught with severe pain, both for self, and for everyone around. He or she learns no trust.

No matter who is found responsible for today’s horrific assault on free expression, those three persons, and any accomplices or masterminds will join the long parade of the demented- all the way back to Caligula and Nero, through the ravages of Justinian, Attila,Tamerlane, Ivan IV, the Jacobins, Hitler, Pol Pot and Idi Amin, to the modern monsters, who present a false image of Mohammad- he who forbade graven images of himself- to the world.

I am not talking about the journalists of Charlie Hebdo.  They are no more culpable in this matter than the Danish man who devised a lewd piece of glassware, purporting to depict Christ, so many years ago.  No Christian killed him.  He was simply ignored and his ill-tempered “sculpture” faded into obscurity.  Thus should it be with all such depictions.  None merit capital punishment.

The modern ravagers are those who loudly proclaim themselves “avengers of the Prophet”, knowing deep down that He would disapprove, vehemently.  Even in the darkness of Seventh Century Arabia, Mohammad only sanctioned violence when it was done in self-defense, as unfortunately it was deemed prudent on several occasions.  Their depraved actions spur equally savage responses from non-Muslims.  As Gandhi cautioned, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”.

So, while French and international investigators sort out the evidence and pursue leads, the world waits to see whether Islamic extremists, or clever agents provocateurs from a Nationalist group, or just-plain hateful miscreants with no agenda other than mayhem, are behind this latest atrocity.  In the end, truth, in its purest form, will be spoken to power.

The Road to 65, Mile 39: Girls

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January 6, 2015, Prescott-  The man whom I am helping, with some aspects of his current homelessness, went with me to one of my favourite coffee shops, this afternoon.  As we were talking about various subjects, the topic of girls and women came up.  Specifically, his left-over pain at having lost his sister, to suicide, some years ago, because of their father’s failing to ever, once, validate her achievements or her worth.  He has long known that gender has nothing to do with a person’s worth, and he misses her, to this day, as I would miss a sibling.

When I let the gentleman off, at a burger joint, and headed home for the night, I learned some things about how a person I love, as if she were my own child, has been treated, over the past few years.  To say I am livid, is a mild understatement.  There is not much I can do in this situation, ethically or legally, except vent, in the most opaque ways possible.  There is no point in muddying the waters of a situation which will be resolved, by cooler heads than mine.

So, generally speaking, in this year 2015, why are we still debating the same issue that our grandparents were considering, in 1945?  In 1905?  Why is anyone, in his right mind, looking at a woman, or a girl, as deriving her worth only from the men around her?  Why are anyone’s God-given talents and abilities subject to the sanction of an overseer?  Why does any male human require the person who is potentially his life partner, his equal in every respect that matters, the first teacher of his children, to be subservient?

We, in this society, love to throw stones at the Taliban, and other groups whom we perceive as having a medieval mindset.  Yet, so many men, right here, right now- and of EVERY ADULT GENERATION, decree themselves Lords and Masters.  I could never bring myself to do that.

My late wife and I had our share of struggles, misunderstandings and long debates.  None of them ever had as their core some sort of false notion about me being somehow superior in our relationship.  We were a team, of imperfect humans, and we were going to make it work.  So, we did, through all manner of mishaps and foibles, many of them my own, and we never, once, went to bed angry.

I guess it’s because my self-worth did not depend on her obeisance.  It depended on her approval, to some extent, and on her support, which never wavered.  Girls, and the awesome adults they become when given the love and support they deserve, are a cornerstone of humanity.  I never had a daughter, but there are so many in my world, whom I am proud to call friend- and would be very proud to call “my child”.  It will ever be so.

The Road to 65, Mile 38: Warp Speed

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

January 5, 2015, Prescott- I arose at 5:30 this morning.  A voice that seemed like my late youngest brother’s called my name, inside my head, and I decided it was time.  Annoyance at perceived pressure from a needy person, who had CHOSEN to live on the streets, “because nothing else is working”, but has been frequently calling me for assistance- usually when I was out of town, was the immediate impetus.  I was well rested, though, and so showered, groomed, dressed, had breakfast and called my AM prayer partner, to confirm our session.

Today was not a work day, per se, being the first day back to school from winter break.  There won’t likely be a need for any subs until at least later on in the week.  There was plenty to do, though.  After prayers, the aforementioned needy person was met across town, and taken to a medical facility. He was more pleasant this morning, though, so I was not as annoyed.

The afternoon brought a planning meeting, a bit of blogging, beginning the application process for a position in which I’m interested.  An errand of mercy led into the evening.  Now, here I am, thinking about the messages I have been getting about this year.  Things are ramping up to warp speed.  Life will happen at a pace to which I am not particularly accustomed.  There may or may not be full-time work; may or may not be travel from one end of North America to the other; may be a solid Disaster Preparedness Program built by me, or by someone else; may be five days a week of substitute teaching in a larger number of public and charter schools.

It will all mean greater flexibility and more focus, on my part.  It will mean things happening more rapidly, and with less advance notice, than in years past.  It’ll all work out, thanks to essential oils, Planet Fitness and a rapidly growing number of both real-time and online friends, who are dedicated to addressing the deeper implications of what’s happening in the wider world, events which are gearing up- to warp speed.

The Road to 65, Mile 37: Visions of Mars

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Travel

January 4, 2015, Valley of Fire, NV-  I checked my social media messages this morning, and found a post which compared the temperature on Mars with that in Minnesota.  Mars was reportedly warmer today.

I was reminded of our nearest planetary neighbour, once on the trails at Valley of Fire State Park, between Moapa and Overton, NV, northeast of Las Vegas.  As you will see further on in this post, red soil abounds there.

I started the day with a hearty breakfast at Comfort Inn, joined by a family who were driving to Colorado, from San Francisco.  They will have clear weather for their return, which is gratifying.  After tooling around Vegas,unsuccessfully, in search of a Wells-Fargo branch, I just bit the bullet, paid the ATM fees and headed up I-15 to Moapa and the park.

SAM_3601 I shortly came upon the reason for the park’s name.

SAM_3606 The Beehives are well-named, in more ways than one.

SAM_3608 Balancing Rock, near the Visitor Center, reminded me of a similar formation at Garden of the Gods, in Colorado Springs.

SAM_3625 SAM_3630 The otherworldiness of the Southwest is in full voice, in Mouse’s Tank, so-named for an outlaw who hid out in this canyon.  The westernmost Ancient Puebloans also settled here, in the 800’s.SAM_3641 SAM_3657 SAM_3660 The Tank itself was empty today.SAM_3667 Life in the Great Basin is always a balancing act.SAM_3670 I came next upon Rainbow Vista, so named for the striated Aztec sandstone found there.SAM_3684 The trail goes through a narrow, rough wash, to end with a gaze upon Fire Canyon.

SAM_3689 SAM_3690 SAM_3693 The apex of the journey into Valley of Fire was at White Domes, a mass of limestone and gypsum.SAM_3698 SAM_3699 Several distance hikers were in this area today.  Someday, I will be back and share their experience.  On the way back towards the Visitor Center, I caught a few glimpses of the blend of colours.

SAM_3705 Seven Sisters, a sandstone formation just south of the Visitor Center, is a popular picnic spot.SAM_3720

Near the East Entrance to the park, a memorial is set up to honour Sergeant John Clark, who perished here in 1915, while en route from Bakersfield to Salt Lake City.SAM_3731 Lake Mead National Recreation Area abuts Valley of Fire, to the southeast.  Its terrain has less of the Aztec sandstone and more limestone and gypsum.SAM_3740 The lake may be down, but it’s far from out. The scenery is still inspiring, especially around sunset.  I enjoyed several stops along the North Shore.

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SAM_3753 Sunset hit its true magnificence as I came upon White Hills, AZ, and Rosie’s Den Cafe.

SAM_3756 Rosie’s is another amazing serendipitous find.  A homey, relaxing spot, with well-prepared food and engaging waitresses, it’s perfectly positioned between Hoover Dam and Kingman.  A plus is that one of the waitresses is also a baker.  Tracey’s no-sugar added cherry pie hits the sweet spot, of the palate, that is.

One caution, being in a rural community:

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JK.  White Hills has a competent volunteer fire service. The stuff of holidays was still well in evidence.

SAM_3759 Rosie’s is definitely cracklin’.

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