December 17, 2025- The lone pedestrian took his turn in the crosswalk, as I approached the intersection, with one car ahead of me, and prepared to turn left-once the man had reached the curb. The driver ahead was also turning left, and edging up to the very crosswalk, while the pedestrian was still in it, made a show of going around the poor soul. Pedestrian and I both shook our heads simultaneously. I get quite exercised about that sort of close call! What if the pedestrian had stumbled and fallen backwards?
I bit later, I took some items to a friend who said she might be able to use them. After sifting through the stock and taking about half of it, she mused about people routinely bringing items, almost expecting that she would take the lot. I don’t dump things on people. I leave them with what they can actually use and find other places for the rest.
Public libraries have graciously accepted seven boxes of the books that have accumulated over the past fifteen years-between Phoenix and here. I have kept those volumes that I know will get read, especially the children’s books that I look forward to reading to my grandchild. The books that are left should fit in the car, along with the clothes, on my first trip out to Plano. I also donated another two boxes of assorted household items to other services.
The furniture will involve more calling around and seeing which agency is interested and can pick up. The first, which shall remain nameless for now, is rather fussy about what it will take. No matter, I no longer deal with them, anyway, for other lapses of ethics, as regards the homeless. I have a hard time with those who foster a mentality that divides people into classes.
December 16, 2025- The tall, soft-spoken man had become used to being overlooked. This morning, though, he was tired of it. When asked to wait for our Blood Donation center to finish being set up, he obligingly sat down. Then, things happened in rapid succession: The Center opened, ten people came through the door and lined up to be admitted, while he stayed seated. Once the line had been processed, the man was called over. He was livid.
He got an apology and was processed, then, still grousing about unfair treatment, he went to the donor interview seating area. One of those who had preceded him in line struck up a conversation, heard him out and offered to let him go ahead. That took the wind out of his angry sails and he calmed down. After a satisfying donation, he told the registration volunteers that they were not at fault, and wished everyone a Merry Christmas.
Many people in our society, and in large communities across the globe, feel overlooked, anonymous. Many indeed are. The human brain can only process just so much, and can only pay attention to just so many, before encountering someone who just doesn’t register, whose needs don’t compute. The brain is part of a physical system. It is finite, although it is also far more capable of achievement than most of us allow.
A lot of anonymity in society is due to spiritual dissonance. We are all primarily spiritual beings, living for a time in a physical frame. Those who don’t recognize their spirituality are far more likely to both feel overlooked and to compartmentalize their relationships with others. Isolation is a dangerous thing, both for the person experiencing it, and for those at whom the isolate, eventually, lashes out. Those who feel overlooked will eventually, invariably, find each other, and form groups with skewed visions of reality. Terrorism then ensues, either by someone acting alone or by the group.
The ISIS attack on American Army Reservists in Syria, over the weekend; the mass murder in Sydney; the murders of a conservative activist and an Uzbeki student, in Providence; and even the killings of Rob and Michele Reiner, all follow the pattern: One or more isolated people, to some extent or another exacerbated by mental illness, and in many cases separated from their true spirit (even if they claim to be acting on behalf of a Faith), and feeling misunderstood, lash out in a horrifying manner. They misunderstand their own nature, and taking the seeming indifference of others-who are themselves a bit cut off from their spirituality-as proof that they are owed retribution, lash out in a horrifying manner.
Each individual needs to know that s(he) is responsible for own spiritual education. Parents and adults close to a child can help him or her in that regard. Adults can help one another, but in the end, we each need to take agency for our spiritual existence.
Several of us heard the gentleman’s cry for recognition, this morning, and turned around what could have been an ugly situation. This can be done anywhere, if we recognize the Source of our lives and strive accordingly.
December 15, 2025- There is only one constant, when transitioning from a long-time residence to taking over someone else’s long-time residence. It helps to have money set aside. I have found it will be in my best interests to invest in a U-Pod, which will mean two stages of the move, owing to Hana’s birth and the U-Pod’s schedule being on two separate wavelengths. I am only grateful that I can manage to do justice to both.
I divested myself of about half my wardrobe, saying goodbye to things that I have kept, but not worn and things that no longer fit. I have done the same to my book collection. Those volumes that I am unlikely to ever read, or that I have read and think will be enjoyed by others, have been passed on. Finally, the furniture: I have scant need for anything that is in this apartment, save a folding card table, once I am in Plano. Most will go to one thrift store or another. One piece is likely to be bought by someone in town.
Today was my last visit to the Coffee Klatsch, and last time volunteering at the Soup Kitchen. Both groups are filled with fond memories and people who will miss me as much as I do them. Life will go on, though, and a friend has already stepped up to take my place on the serving line. He will be an excellent fit for that operation, and made a good impression this evening.
So, the wall art and the small knick-knack keepsakes will be covered in bubble wrap. The family archives will be prepared for transport, some at the end of the week and the rest in the middle of next week. Our darling will appear in between it all. I am all in for the whole process.
December 12, 2025- The sunbow appeared in the northern sky, as I walked downtown from HB I. It was an affirmation that all had ended well, after a tumultuous day. It was Acker Night, time to walk about and enjoy the lights, music and camaraderie that foreshadow Christmas here. I ran across several friends and walked around with Hiking Buddy Akuura and another one of her friends. The musical fare ran the gamut from hip hop to novelty Country. The latter included a revision of “Take Me Home, Country Roads”, with Arizona taking the place of West Virginia and US 89 replacing the generic country roads. There were fewer Grinches, and no Krampases in sight. There were plenty of children and dogs wearing deer antlers, though. It was also warmer and more serene than the pushing and shoving that has sometimes characterized the crowds downtown.
I had entertained thoughts of heading up to Bellemont, with six boxes of books, earlier this morning. It occurred to me, though, that time was getting short to advertise and sell the sofa hide-a-bed. So, I took the measurements and a couple of photographs, and posted on Craig’s List. It didn’t take long for the grifters to come out of the woodwork. Offers of purchase on Venmo and Zelle came via text. Needless to say, after ridding myself of three or four such pests, (one of whom sounded quite convincing, until his “coach” came on in the background and was heard telling him what to say), I found it necessary to call my bank. If the thieves had my contact info, they might have been able to hack my account. So, proper measures were taken to safeguard my assets. Nothing was compromised, in the end. I will sell the item for cash and nothing else. It was a good day of learning about private sales of items.
I will use Sunday as a Books to Bellemont day. It is a lot less stressful now, knowing that there are alternatives to driving back and forth from Prescott to Plano, twice. I will talk with U-Haul reps on Monday, for transport of what might not fit in Sportage.
These things, too, shall pass and Christmas in Prescott will remain a bright and shiny memory, for years to come. Plano, and the Metroplex, have their own holiday festivities. My family will enjoy them all, as a unit.
December 10,2025- In the Fall of 1979, a co-worker at Villa School, in Eloy, had a vehicle and wanted someone to go with her to Oak Creek Canyon and Sedona. My hand went up, as I was actively visiting as much of Arizona as I could on weekends, without the benefit of owning my own vehicle. So, northward we went, first to Flagstaff’s Fort Tuthill (fairgrounds), then down along U.S. 89, stopping next at an overlook and purchasing a few items of Dineh jewelry. (She, for herself and I, for another co-worker, whose birthday was approaching).
Then, the magic started to unfold-a riotous blend of colours: Blue sky, green trees and grass and red rocks presented their unique co-existence all along the windy canyon road, carved long ago, by Oak Creek. The creek itself served up a hearty torrent, at Slide Rock, which hosted a popular Arizona State Park. We looked for a bit at the happy families, kids squealing in delight and teen boys on the ledge above, daring one another to jump off into the creek. (None did, given that their fathers were close by, wielding veto power). We soon went on, down towards Sedona, creeping along behind a bicyclist, who was half arrogantly occupying the center of the lane and half scared to death that his brakes might fail. The slow pace only amplified the majesty of the place. We took in Cathedral Rock, Courthouse Butte and Bell Rock, all from their bases. I was an avid hiker, but my co-worker was not. I made a mental note to return to each of these, and explore further.
Over the years, Sedona has been a regular destination-either alone, or when accompanied by Penny, by our son, Aram, by his wife, Yunhee, by members of the NAU Hiking Club or, most recently, by my present Hiking Buddy, Akuura, the area has not once failed to present the most majestic of views. Those views change with the position of the Sun. Light and shadow are everything in the Southwest, and nowhere more so than in this most wondrous of places, where canyon meets mountain.
Akuura and I took in Red Rock State Park, for one final excursion, before I devote myself full tilt to dispersing many possessions and packing up the rest. It was an exquisite day, weather-wise, and so we took in Eagle’s Nest and Javelina Overlook-and several points along the way.
The blue and green were gearing up; the red a bit subdued, yet, at the base of Eagle’s Nest Trail.
The hues deepened, though, as my shadow and I walked towards the switchbacks that led to the overlook.
It may not look treacherous, but the sign is quite accurate.
The first phase of Javelina Trail passes by an area where several mule deer were grazing and another area, where a lone javelina was moving away from a small assembled group of bird watchers/deer oglers. We would encounter the deer again, towards the end of our hike, but that was the last we saw of the boar. This magnificent little spire could be called Love Rock, for all I know, but it is a standalone outcropping, along the flat trail, just before Apache Fire Loop rises off to the right.
Once atop the Javelina Trail, the iconic view of Cathedral Rock offered itself.
We briefly pondered the trail east to another part of this majestic expanse, but then opted to head back down to the Visitors Center-and on to lunch. Just before getting to the Visitors Center, we encountered the family of resident mule deer, enjoying their lunch.
The final visit to Sedona, of this year at least, came to an end, with a celebratory lunch at The Belfry, at the entry to Old Town Cottonwood. I long ago swore to spare my readers any food photos, but this chandelier is worthy of praise.
I will someday be back in Sedona, and God willing, I might even have a wide-eyed granddaughter along.
December 7, 2025- Another holiday party/annual meeting/farewell gathering featured inventive, delicious organic and vegetarian fare-including my mixed greens and sunflower sprouts, with a dressing of lemon curd, Sicilian lemon balsamic and Persian lime olive oil, with a hint of paprika. The dressing was a particular hit with the group- and the host, a Master Chef, asked to keep what was left. Success!!
Part of the business meeting involved discussion of whether to donate funds to a Garden School in Africa, that serves HIV-ridden orphaned children. The group has helped the Director, herself uninfected, for the past three years, so it was not difficult to vote for continuance. We voted to double the amount suggested by our executive committee, with no objection from them. One of our members has been to that school twice, and will visit again, sometime next year.
It is hard for many people here to comprehend, but the conduit member said that HIV is still rampant in that particular part of Africa, as many men are unwilling to use hygienic protection in their intimate activities, leaving their women open to infection, which naturally gets passed on to any progeny. This situation was the basis for HIV-fighting funds from USAID. Now that the prevailing view in our government is that these funds just “reward bad behaviour”, the funds have been reduced, or eliminated, and it will take time for the miscreants to realize that no one is going to rescue them. The children are the ones who end up suffering. So, private groups like ours are taking up the slack-helping women and children directly.
Collective action is far more effective than assorted individuals trying to take up the mantle. Besides, I have to be on deck to focus my energies and resources on family first. I am grateful that projects like this are getting an organizational response.
December 5, 2025- The earnest young man said, with a straight face, that he fully intended to finance a new vehicle, using his available income from a part-time job cleaning office buildings around his town. We went over the cost of the desired vehicle, the number of months it would take to pay off a loan-if one were even available and the amount of money he would have to set aside each month, just to pay the loan amount, never mind insurance, registration and maintenance. It didn’t take him long to pivot to calculating the monthly costs involved with purchasing a used car, for 1/4 the amount of a new vehicle.
When I was a similar age, I had a grand uncle who would calmly disabuse me of similar outlandish dreams. He never tried to actively talk me out of any pipe dream, but used facts, numbers and the sort of logic that said “This is all achievable-just some day, not right away.” In running this morning’s round table discussions with juniors and seniors at a local high school, regarding financial planning, I used the same mentoring tools. The students could see that I am still standing, even through a fair number of missteps and setbacks. My ending point was that it is not the mistakes that matter, in the end; it is the aggregate of lessons learned.
This morning, regarding grandparenting, I was reminded that the elder’s greater wisdom shines brightest from the ability to listen to the grandchild; to be the safe haven and by extension, the greatest emotional support. It takes nothing away from parents, but does offer the child another place where s(he) can feel validated. It is that affirmation that builds the emotional strength a person needs, to successfully withstand all manner of negative pressures.
Today’s seminars were a good round of practice in that regard.
November 30, 2025, Grapevine- My sole tasks today were recording measurements of two rooms in the Plano house, using the Notes application on my i-Phone, and doing my laundry. It was not a hard day. Son had to navigate traffic across the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, as he does almost every day. He had the harder job. There is a fair number of unfocused, impetuous motorists here, as there are in nearly every major city on the planet. He got the job done just fine.
Much of the difficulty facing the human race has come from one or more people, in any given situation, becoming distracted. There are plenty of diversions competing for anyone’s attention, at any given time of the day: Sunrises and sunsets; cute animals; cute babies; text messages; phone calls; road accidents; attractive members of the opposite sex; billboards; alluring announcements on the radio or streaming device; even someone riding a horse on the side of the road. The tasks, though, remain the same: Drive safely; pay attention to the person in front of you; finish what you start.
I think of this, as I plan out one of the most tightly-choreographed months in quite a while. Not since July, 2011 have I had to face a sea change in my living situation. It will need to be done carefully, and attentively, both because of time frame and because the feelings of so many people, who mean a great deal to me, need to be kept in mind. The most important, of course, are my little family. Others also matter, and so December will see lots of hugs and handshakes and “Thank you for being my friend, all these years.” The saving grace, in each instance, is the continuity offered by social media.
All I can promise anyone is that I will stay on point, and get the tasks of transition done, to the every best of my ability, doing justice for all concerned.
November 29, 2025, Grapevine- The order of the day was bringing some items to the Plano house, including my major camping stuff and some of the items purchased for the good of the household. It was then off to assess furniture, including my trying out several mattresses. I like firmness on a sleeping surface, and will determine where I will lay my head, at least for the next nineteen years, after a bit more investigation.
The rest of the items are more a matter of style and utility. We stopped in one furniture MegaStore, where I was amazed to see the wooden desk equivalent of stylish torn jeans: Painted wooden desks, with scuffed trim-“on sale” for $289. In fairness, most of the other office furniture was nicely constructed and looked state of the art.
It is a joy to watch my son and daughter-in-law meet the challenges of home ownership, taking each major step seriously, with no sense of being overwhelmed. It is all seen in perspective, and 1-3 matters are handled per day. They are also sober-minded, loving parents, actively planning to nurture the whole child, from the moment she is born.
That brings me back to the subjects of firmness and style. Granddaughter will be getting direction, first and foremost, from her parents, with back-up from me, when needed. My style of grandparenting will evolve, but it will be centered on consistency and giving her feelings of security and self-confidence. Some grandparents are known to take on the role of disciplinarian. I will not. Others take on the role of rescuer. I do not have a life-sized picture of that being necessary, with this family. The bottom line is that I will not live through my children and grandchild(ren). It is not something with which I have ever comfortable, and I am not about to start now.
I will be another sure bet in the little girl’s life.
November 28, 2025, Grapevine- The road to diamond ended where it began, in the company of my little family, here in Texas’ Christmas City. There was a sense that life would continue as ever, for the three of us, and in preparation for my third visit to the Philippines, I seriously contemplated moving there, being very strongly drawn to a lovely woman and having made several friends during my first two trips to that beautiful, struggling, supremely hospitable country.
I sojourned a lot this year-to the Philippines in February; back to the eastern U.S., in May and across a wide swath of Europe in September and October. In between, my commitment to Prescott continued unabated and many hours of service were recorded. These were the fruits of twelve years of building relationships and friendships, across sectarian and even ideological lines.
The finest thing about both travels and community service came in seeing people take the reins of empowerment to themselves. Filipinos rejuvenating a local Baha’i Center, building a pavilion for an elementary school, and women standing up and saying “Enough” to abusive significant others made my spirit soar. The initial phases of a Baha’i House of Worship, north of Manila were an added bonus.
Northern Arizona became a distinct Red Cross Chapter again this year. I had little to do with the actual achievement, but was able to establish ties between the organization and at least one rural community, east of Prescott. We also reached out to formerly isolated communities in the far northern reaches of the state-albeit as an outcome of a horrific fire that ravaged the magnificent North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
Getting to spend time with friends in several European countries fulfilled an eleven year old promise. Visits to Sweden, Croatia, Ireland and the United Kingdom accomplished that goal. Paying homage to the victims of the Holocaust, at Auschwitz-Birkenau and to those massacred at Srebrenica, Bosnia & Hercegovina was the fulfillment of what I regard as a duty of a citizen of the world. In most places, my presence was evanescent, yet I felt at home, and would not be unwelcome if I returned.
I have reached my diamond jubilee. The day, and this Thanksgiving visit, have been focused on the coming move of my little family and I into a permanent home. Doing things like meeting the tradesmen who will help prepare the house, going over specs and pointing out things that need to be repaired/replaced, shopping for new furniture to replace items that are, in my case at least, nearly fourteen years old-have taken precedence. Once I get back in Prescott, in the middle of next week, the process of dismantling Home Base I begins in earnest. Furniture will need to be sold or given away, as will clothing, books and a variety of household items. Farewells will be said, at gatherings in the Prescott area, in southern California and in the Phoenix area. Farewell, though, is not an eternal goodbye.
Our little one will arrive, sometime in the second half of December. A new era thus starts, along with the beginning of my “fourth quarter”. Other than a visit to the Philippines, at the start of 2026, itself dependent on the baby’s healthy start and her mother’s health, my time at the new Home Base I, from March onward, will be primarily focused on my granddaughter’s care. Gradually, Plano will become my new community. It will not be Prescott-but then again, Prescott was not Jeddito, and Jeddito was not Jeju. Every Home Base has had its draws, its strengths and its undying memories.
The promise of 75 is the promise of guiding a new life, a new human being, who may very well be the embodiment of much that I have wanted to offer the world. The choice, though, will be up to her alone. All her parents and I can do is guide her with love.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 