Musings, On Another Half-Way Mark

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May 28, 2023- I weigh under 170 lbs, for the first time since I left Korea (1992). The work and the discipline are worth it-and while some are already trying to get me to EAT more, the nutrition I am giving myself is more than adequate. As with anything else, when someone pushes me one way, I go the other, at least as far as it suits my own greater well-being.

Exercise is also a key, and I find it easier to do more cardiopulmonary stuff than I did four months ago, when the whole weight reduction plan started. Shedding bulk works. Of course, I also walk more and will get in plenty of hikes, over the next several months, including early morning walks to my favourite grove of trees, about 1.5 miles from the camp I will be managing from June 2-16 and possibly over Solstice Week. I won’t know about the latter until, maybe, June 16, but there we are.

Being 72.5 doesn’t feel bad at all, and actually feels better than 65 or 68. Much is in how one views the world-and oneself in it. I spent the day fitting a friend wh,o is in pain, with a back brace; holding space for a devotional online; driving down to the cemetery where Penny is laid to rest; putting flowers in a plastic vase, provided by the cemetery, and placing the vase at Penny’s grave, then sitting foe a while and communicating about the next few months. Finding the vase was itself an interesting process. Being Memorial Day weekend, most of those vessels were already in use-and people were using the vase bins as trash cans! I drove around and checked a few other bins, finally finding several in a bin near the Cemetery Office. Some people who had pulled in behind me, near the row of graves, were also looking for a vase, so I directed them to that bin, and it was win-win.

Upon returning to Prescott, a dinner was being held in honour of a Baha’i craftswoman, who has a booth at the festival on Courthouse Plaza. So, I attended the delightful meal, and will certainly visit her booth tomorrow, in between all the Memorial Day activities. Tomorrow also marks the 131st anniversary of the Ascension of Baha’u’llah, thus imparting extra meaning to the concept of commemorating the lives of departed loved ones. It will be 106 years since the late former President John F. Kennedy was born. It will also mark 59 years since my late youngest brother was born. I get messages from him also- “Stay true to yourself; you’re on a good path and people love you.”

I feel that energy, especially lately. It’s always good to get messages from departed loved ones, though.

A Broken String

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May 27, 2023-Of course, it happened just as Rick was getting into an extended riff, for his last song of the evening: A string broke, on his electric guitar. With a shrug of his shoulders, the craftsman and artist took out a new string and replaced the errant interrupter, in less than two minutes. Then, he resumed playing a rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Old Love”, from where he had left off-no mean feat of memory. The Bluesman has a limited playlist, but it is surely larger than mine, since I don’t play anything other than a hand drum and a few chords on a piano. He never fails to entertain, this one-man band.

Last-minute events never fail to either aggravate or astonish. Certainly, the buzzer-beating shot by Derrick White, giving the Celtics the win in this evening’s NBA East Semifinals Game 6, will rate among the great turnarounds in professional sports history. Boston teams have done it before-the Red Sox, in 2004 and the Patriots, several times. It was actually the New York Yankees, Penny’s favourite team, who perfected the art of Last Minute Charlie-hood- often coming from behind, in the last half of the ninth inning, and more than once, with two outs.

Mickey Spillane, Al Capone and Dame Nelly Melba said it best, if in a politically-awkward, and in Dame Nelly’s case, self-deprecating, way: “The show’s not over until the fat lady sings”. Nothing is truly over until its last element has transpired. The lengthy tussle over the national debt ceiling is about to come to at least a two-year respite. Let’s hope there is no last-minute broken string.

Anna Mae

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May 24, 2023- Before Beyonce, before Rihanna, even before Aretha and Diana, there was Tina Turner. She transcended being treated, and mistreated, as a commodity by her first husband, then by Phil Spector, the latter at least acknowledging her particular vocal talent. She wore it and shook it off, keeping her stage name as a mark of survival.

Anna Mae Bullock was born to an indifferent mother and unsettled father, and frequently made to feel like an appendage. Her grandparents taught her Gospel music and a strong work ethic, which she exhibited throughout her musical and film career. She stuck with Ike Turner for nearly twenty years, until his addiction-fueled, abusive behaviour made her overcome any remaining loyalty or feeling like he had somehow “made” her career. Tina, she remained, and true to her vocal talents, she kept on performing, rejuvenating her career in the 1980s, a decade in which she said she “fit”. Tina Turner remarried, in 2013, finding happiness with her long-time friend and collaborator, Erwin Bach. That same year, she became a citizen of Switzerland, relinquishing her U.S. citizenship. Her last ten years of life were wracked by disease, tempered by her faith in the Divine and the love she shared with her husband.

Tina was the ultimate show artist,and while her view of her native land was harsh-so was much of the life she lived here. She made a grand contribution to American popular music, nonetheless, rejuvenating both her career and the entirety of the genre, at a time when both were in a low ebb. Tina Turner will remain in many hearts, for a long, long time.

Those Quirks

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May 23, 2023- Ms. Jessie reacted to news of her friend’s illness by heading over to the woman’s house. It was storming outside, and she could barely see to pull into the driveway. Ms. Jessie’s vehicle was high-centered, so she called the friend, frantically, to come outside. The sick woman came out, looked at the mess, and called a male friend, who had a truck with a tow bar. He came over and managed to extricate Ms. Jessie’s vehicle, after which, Ms. Jessie and the friend had something of a laugh over the whole thing.

Ms. Jessie passed on, not long ago, leaving a lifetime of similar stories and memories-the things that transpired because she was Ms. Jessie, and had come to look at life through a particular lens. Her daughter said she hurt no one by what she did, and that she had raised her early and well.

Each of us has our quirks. Mine were off-center enough that I am remembered by some in my circle as an “odd duck”. The water has fallen off my back, in that regard. I have become somewhat more conventional, in my early senior years. On the other hand, Sagitarrian wandering, a sense of duty to the Divine-in the form of service to others and being responsive to spiritual energy prompts have combined to make my activities still rather a full slate-and not always predictable to others. The closest of friends and family shake their heads and smile knowingly.

One of the finer aspects of this meandering life has been all the characters I’ve met, over the years, each of whom has had something to teach me. In Ms. Jessie’s case, it was with regard to flowers-how to keep them in bloom longer-and with more varied arrangements. I might have been a bit more cautious as to taking her advice about navigating roads. I have had enough of my own problems, now and then, in that regard.

Gotta love those quirks, though. RIP, Ms. Jessie.

Categorical

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May 22, 2023- Wagging her finger at me, the perturbed woman growled: “Conservative is the only way!” She was at least communicative; her husband grumbled and walked off, cutting me off in mid-sentence. All this, because I was not of the same opinion about a relatively small issue, which I’ve actually already forgotten.

Labels are actually becoming increasingly irrelevant. Even Donald Trump has a strategy for re-election that involves a No Labels Party. Every one of us has aspects of our being that span the political spectrum. I knew Hippies who were incredibly straight-laced about their friendships and interracial ties. I’ve known buttoned-down businessmen who embrace a great tolerance for opposite points of view.

I am conservative, when it comes to common courtesy-from greeting people, to table manners, to respect for my elders. I am progressive, when it comes to honouring dignity-towards people of colour, towards women and girls, towards children and teens, towards street people and towards rural citizens. I am moderate, when it comes to speech and consideration of opposite points of view.

There are times to take a stand- and that process is one I learned from my father. He never came down hard and dogmatic, but stood his ground handsomely and always in a dignified manner. He was able to summarize other people’s viewpoints to us, in a way that made perfect sense, but not necessarily giving the impression that he agreed with them.

I cannot let myself be pigeonholed or typecast. Such misdirected performance art would solve nothing,

Living Ornaments

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May 21, 2023- Who are we, to one another? I know that I am an inspiration to some, a guidepost to others and a nuisance to maybe a few. There are many who are beacons of light and warmth to me; others who represent the bar of achievement-my consciences, quite definitely, and a few, very few, who are the darkness, against which I can only gauge my own light.

Forms of taking advantage of one another have existed since mankind first formed social groups. Slavery and indentured servitude, differing form one another, only in degree, are themselves as old as warfare. The commercialization of those practices came later, of course, and set in motion genetic memory and social attitudes that persist in several areas of society today. Crimes against persons have also likely stemmed from the very mindset that has warfare and conflict as necessary evils.

Viewing others as mere ornaments, or appendages, to oneself is arguably the basest form of narcissism. None of us exists as the be all, the end all, of the human race-or of Creation. Yet, when we stumble, the legitimacy of other people’s existence is called into question-and even if this happens to a minute degree, the effect on the one doing the questioning is just as nefarious as the effect it has on the intended victims. No one who rapes, kills or even beats, another person can be said to go off into a blissful sunset-unscathed. No one who dehumanizes a group of other people, or a segment thereof, can truly feel honourable and blessed among humanity, much less in the sight of the Divine.

If we are to feel ornamental at all, let it be as living signs of the Gem of Wisdom.

Where We Go

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May 20, 2023- I met a second cousin only once-long ago, at a family Christmas party. He could not have been more than three years old. Time passed, he became a grown man, most likely a father-and even more likely, did his level best at an honourable line of work. I can’t say for certain, because he died prematurely, a few days ago. His father, who survives him, has done his level best, in an honourable line of work, so there is a lot of hope in that regard.

I have no way to contact my cousin, but if that changes, I would say to him that. in addition to condolences, I know that he was a good parent, as was his wife. We can sense such things from a distance, even with people we never see or hear once separate paths have been taken. We can always tell, knowing even a small amount about struggles and triumphs, how a person’s life has gone, in general.

Today was spent preparing the grounds and buildings for a series of camps that will begin on June 2. The team that I will lead is to provide logistical support for those guiding groups of up to twenty youth or pre-teens. The guidance is not dogmatic, but is moral, ethical in tone. The young people, for the most part, come from disadvantaged families and neighbourhoods; yet they do have a capacity for learning discernment. It is that discernment that changes lives, communities-and even nations.

Where we go in life depends largely on the choices we make. Those choices only work to our advantage, if they are made with discernment, with information, with honest assessment. I am willing to bet that my departed second cousin lived well. God rest his soul.

Last Minute

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May 18, 2023- The message was sudden, but not all that surprising. Essentially, it was ‘I have run into difficulty. Please stop what you’re doing and help me get out of this jam.’ Being one who has to deliberate a bit, when it comes to unanticipated requests, I replied that I had no pat answers or novel solutions.

I understand the situation. There have been times, as recently as twelve years ago, when I would leave things until the last minute, then pitch to family and friends for relief. This came from telling myself that life is too hard, too unfair and that if only people knew my heart, they would gladly keep on helping me out. The finest response I ever got was “Enough! Work it out, even if it’s painful for a while.” That was from someone who did know my heart.

From that point on, I learned that taking full responsibility and reverting to my former practice of finding solutions in advance of an emergency, and connecting with the providers of those solutions-in other words, networking, when necessary, allows for a much fuller, more satisfying life-and for better friendships. The days when people, rightfully, would run when they saw me coming, are in the past. I aim to keep it that way.

After several hours of reflection, and of consulting with other friends, it is clear that the individual who needs help is best pointed towards an agency, rather than random assistance from a scattering of angels.

Where’s Home?

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May 17, 2023- As I got off the train this morning, sans jacket, I felt a slight chill in the air and moved briskly towards the area where the Sportage was parked. I noted that a slightly-built young woman, who had initially regarded me with suspicion, while we were on the train, was also without a jacket and was rather flustered-perhaps having met the same fate. I also noted that several well-built men were without coats. Maybe there was a run on outerwear, back at Union Station.

It is customary to welcome people back, when they have been away from a situation-whether to a place of work or to a community. I appreciate the greeting, but I must admit that a limited view of home has never resonated with me. Home has been any number of places, over the years: Saugus is still the place where I lived the longest, though Prescott is catching up, in that regard. Bangor never really felt that comfortable. Amherst, Northampton and South Deerfield were fine places to live, while I was in school-as was Flagstaff. Tuba City and Jeddito helped me expand my awareness of true First Nations life. Jeju did the same, for my understanding of East Asian thought and cultural norms. Salome, once I got an appreciation of rural desert dwellers, might have been a fine place to settle, but for local politics. Phoenix was too close to the rawness of the situation we were in, as a couple and as a family dealing with deadly disease. It was also far too hot, for too many months in the year.

I’ve addressed the issue of where I feel most at home, when on the road, several times before and will not belabor that matter again, here. Basically, though, home is ever a state of mind. Maybe that was why I felt as comfortable whilst on the buses and trains, yesterday, as I do right now in “my own” living room.

It’s nice to be at Home Base, though, and I hope the young lady at the train station found her way back to where she feels at home, in fairly short order.

The Energy Field Is Always Right

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May 16, 2023, Los Angeles- Someone swiped my light jacket, right out from under the baggage handler’s nose. It was a gift from another friend, a while back, and only cost them $20. Serves me right, for having tied it to the outside of my checked bag-and the fleet-footed thief will not be charged, under LA’s “$900 or less” grace ordinance-designed to keep the jails less crowded. Still, it’ll be a briefly chilly morning dash to my car, when we get to Flagstaff early tomorrow. I have plenty of other jackets and coats at Home Base.

Someone is bound to say: “It might not have happened, had you kept your original plan and gone up to the Northwest, any way you could.” Of course, there’s that. There are also these: 1. Plans change, because the energy behind them shifts. 2. In that light, three events in or near Home Base over the next six days, necessitate my presence. 3. My friends in the Northwest have enough with which to concern themselves right now, without my stopping in on short notice. (Maybe three-to-five days in July, before V’s play, in Carson City, will be enough to connect with them. We’ll see what transpires.

I had plenty of alone time at HI Sacramento, last night, to ponder what lies ahead in the next six months, and to plan accordingly. There were few people around, and those who were hosteling were a costume jeweler and his associate, working on their merchandise. In the quietude, some very strong messages came to me-along with a sense that each month between now and November will find me on the road, in the air, and so on. Each of these months will also entail activities around Home Base. There is always a balance, even for one whose public persona seems to be that of a rolling stone. The messages do have one constant: “Your time is not going to feel like it’s your own- especially on certain days.” There is, however, a basic feeling of safety. Paying attention to the energy field also imparts what is needed, in order to make every minute count and each task successful.

After a series of charter bus and train rides, from Sacramento to this city of angels, with wings that have varying levels of dirt, I am in a lightly-populated train car and ready to just relax through the night. Looking at the stops ahead-other than Fullerton, Riverside and San Bernardino, the stops are all rural and unlikely to result in a crowded train. The conductor says his manifest indicates a number of people embarking tomorrow morning in Winslow. By then, I will be enjoying a hot breakfast and coffee, probably in Camp Verde-as Flagstaff’s establishments won’t open before 7 a.m., and an hour’s drive down the highway will be in order.

Good night, all, and may the Force stay with you.