The Road to Diamond, Day 118: Safekeeping

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March 26,2025- Little man next door has watched cars and trucks go up and down our street, from the safety of his front door. He decided he would try out his little tricycle on the street. Mama quashed that idea, very quickly, as you would expect.

On my way to a chili cook-off, this evening, I came upon another little man, on a tricycle, crossing the next street south of ours. This boy was with his mother, who safely guided him across the road, and onto the sidewalk. He rightfully “owned” the sidewalk, but chose to stay on the red brick bicycle path, until I passed on the walk. Then, he took over the right of way. Mom was perfectly content with either safe option.

I read, this evening, about a Kansas State Trooper, who pulled over an SUV for a traffic violation. In the vehicle were two men in their 60s and a 6-year-old girl. Long story short, going over the speed limit was the least of the driver’s transgressions, and the kidnapped girl is being reunited with her parents. The scary part is that the men almost had her brainwashed, but close, thankfully, only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes.

There is no substitute for a loving, sensible, committed parent, in ensuring the safety of any child.

The Road to Diamond, Day 115: Seed Mania

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March 23, 2025- Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve liked edible seeds-when they have been shelled and especially when they are part of say, a muffin or on a bagel. Seeds in fruit are not so enjoyable, but I see their value, in perpetuating life. So, I have learned to set them aside and let them dry-from apples, pumpkins, squash, even tomatoes and peppers, when there is space on the counter. I have planted them, in season. Some years, they produced lots of tomatoes and peppers. Other years, they have made gophers and javelinas very happy.

This afternoon, Prescott Farmers Market and Slow Food co-sponsored Seed Mania, with several kiosks promoting local farmers and their wares. There were several presentations by still other farmers, reportedly marked by spirited discussion among them, regarding each other’s methodologies. There was also plenty for the kids to do, with school garden displays-which they helped to create and fun educational activities that were seed-related.

My spot was mostly manning the Slow Food table, and encouraging new arrivals in the area to sign up for mentoring, by one or another of the local farmers or garden educators. Fifteen such newcomers signed on, many from areas where the growing season and topography are much different from those of this area. It was a revelation that a local garden center was promoting blueberry cultivation. It was NOT a revelation that the bushes produced small, sour berries-if they produced any at all. Apple trees, I have found, don’t produce much in the way of fruit around here, either.

Plants are fairly fussy, and want certain soil, water, compost nutrients and only certain exposure to sunlight, as well as a degree of temperature control. I guess that makes them like other living things, even a bit like us. We each thrive in different environments.

The Road to Diamond, Day 114: Intuition

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March 22, 2025- The little boy went over to an office building that was closed, and walked around it, then came back. Even though he looked like he was just exploring, I knew he was looking for a toilet. So did his father, who came and took him to the Port-o-San. The man smiled appreciatively, in that, though neither one spoke English, I had been keeping an eye on his son. Intuition is what keeps things running smoothly.

I had a messaging exchange earlier this morning, with someone who is frustrated at the pace of a construction project with which I had helped a few months ago. I made it clear that I would not be able to get things accelerated and that I am being careful with my money. After a while, the person understood and expressed appreciation for what I have done already. Good things take time, and sometimes have to wait for bad things to play out. Intuition can be in play, even over long distances.

This evening, I took in a robust performance by a guitarist who frequents the small cafe that I alternate with The Raven, on weekends. He was having some difficulty with certain parts of his instrument. I am familiar enough with this gentleman that I could offer the name of someone who might be able to help him with the issue. His own preferred method seeming to be not working, he winced but thanked me for the tip. Intuition can be dicey sometimes, but it pays to take initiative and offer help. We are all in this together.

I can see that we will be needing to refine our intuition, in the weeks and months ahead, if we are to keep a close watch on the rather sloppy use of Artificial Intelligence, lest it end up counteracting the nobler aspects of the current Administration’s efforts at decreasing waste. Nothing is gained, if these efforts go too far, and end up derailing themselves.

The Road to Diamond, Day 111: Yin/Yang

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March 19,2025- The little girl holding an arm load of red and green tennis balls looked plaintively at me, through the chain-link fence of the tennis court, as I was walking back from downtown. There, near my feet, was a stray ball, with the same yin/yang design as the ones she was holding. I picked up the ball and tossed it, underhand, over the fence to her waiting, appreciative father.

Earlier, while I was on the way downtown, a man and his three sons were riding their bicycles, with a good heady speed, up the slight hill. This sort of exercise is vital to people, especially children, so I gladly stepped aside. Kids on bicycles or on skateboards, deserve all the support they can get, from adults. It was a joy to see the father engaged with his children.

These families are not uncommon in Prescott. People are always gathered outdoors, in this manner. It made the message I read when I got home, from the Baha’i Faith’s Supreme Body, all the more cogent. The Universal House of Justice wrote us on the subject of the importance of family, as the basic unit of society. ‘Abdu’l-Baha said, in the early 20th Century, that the family was the miniature of a nation. In today’s letter, the Institution noted that there is a struggle between forces, which are pulling society in opposite directions. The family, in its functioning, needs to steer a middle path between the two extremes, and focus on building character in its children-a character which will serve the person well, throughout life.

Towards evening, I learned that someone in our neighbourhood, an obviously troubled individual, had to be jailed for lewd and lascivious behaviour. There are small children next door to Home Base I and two teenage girls live in houses across the street. I look out for these kids, while knowing they have loving and dedicated parents. The miscreant will not harm any of them, even if released for some reason.

There is always a yin and yang.

The Road to Diamond, Day 99: Invisible No More

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March 7, 2025- It was in the mid-1990s, and three young girls felt that their safety was at risk, at their school and in the nearby area. They bolted and hid in a remote spot. I was school counselor back then, and while I had earned the trust of most students,including the girls, they weren’t taking any chances with possibly having to deal with their adversaries. I was left to notify their parents that they had absconded and to enlist the support of the local police and the Superintendent of Schools. Several of us were out looking around, and by nightfall, one of the girls had made it back to her mother’s house. Early the next morning, I got a call from the other two. They had found their way to a safe house for the night, but were ready to go back to their parents. I went and got them, bringing them home.

This was in a Native American community. What is important here is that Native American women and girls, in both the United States and Canada, have been disappearing at an alarming rate, from both urban and rural areas. 5,800 women and girls disappeared in 2023; 74 % were children. I would estimate that this number has, if anything, only increased over the last 1.25 years. It has been called a “silent crisis”, but it is hardly silent to the First Nations.

On January 27, a young girl named Emily Pike left the group home where she was staying, possibly aiming to get back to her parents on the San Carlos Apache Nation. She never made it. She was found dead, killed in a gruesome manner, on February 14 along the route back to San Carlos from Mesa, where she had been living. In a hideous way, Emily at least was found and her family can get a small measure of closure. Many women and children are far less “fortunate”.

There has been an invisibility problem, with regard to indigenous people on this continent. It is probably true elsewhere in the world, as well. Here, though, various bad actors have been able to choose victims from across the First Nations of the United States and Canada-whether trafficking the women and girls, or systematically raping and killing them, with the sense that “no one will notice.”

The families notice, and now, the rest of society is beginning to take stock, as well. It is high time, and it is past time. It has also affected young men-and not too long ago, I paid my respects to a mother who lost only son, a young man only a year younger than my own son. They knew one another, during our time on the Reservation. He, too, disappeared and was only found after nearly two years of search. It was too late.

We have an anonymity problem across our population. With customarily shy and wary First Nations people, it is all the more pronounced. They are, however, not deserving of invisibility. Their gifts, dreams and skills are every bit as valuable as anyone else’s. They were put on this Earth by the Divine, just like everyone else. It is an ongoing stain on this continent, that their lives are undervalued.

No one’s life should be.

The Road to Diamond, Day 62: The Dinner Show

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January 29, 2025, Manila- The six children gathered outside the small cafe, with two of them standing at the window, and all but demanding that those of us inside reach in our pockets and give to the cause. The owner sent a young lady out to tell them, nicely, to leave. That lasted for three minutes, and we all sensed they were merely hiding around the corner. The group came back, a second time, and were nearly as aggressive. This time, the owner sent a brusque male employee, whose message was that the police were on their way. The group left, going across the street to stand in front of a student dormitory.

Winter brings desperation, even in a relatively warm place like the Philippines. This is the dry season, though that will soon end. There have been reports of young men on motorcycles, harassing those going in and out of the U.S. Embassy and VA Clinic that is near the Embassy, though not the one I would use, were I to decide to move here. I am sure the police are responding, and besides, I have no plans to be anywhere near that area, this time around.

I take precautions with my belongings, when out on the street. Kids, and others, don’t see anything easily taken, because I don’t make it obvious, and thieves need to move quickly. I also don’t let myself be surrounded by any group of people, of any age. The kids yesterday, in San Gregorio, were respectful and had a documented, registered cause. The group outside the cafe, this evening, have done this before and when young adults pass them by, they don’t try anything foolish.

So, the dinner show was not all that entertaining. I was alone, and calmly had my rather modest meal. Food from street stalls, which is what the beggars themselves eat, is actually as plentiful as what was offered in the cafe, and I have eaten it myself, more than once. It is also a whole lot cheaper.

Why don’t I just put coins in cups? Multiply the group of six by the number of those watching from a distance, and you will have your answer. Baha’u’llah teaches that “the most despicable among men are those who sit idly and beg.” It is important to redirect children towards meaningful activity, and away from such idleness.

The Road to Diamond, Day 61: Return to (Maybe) Forever

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January 28, 2025, Pasay– Three robust boys came to me with a request all too familiar, even back at Home Base I: Would I be so kind as to support their youth basketball league, with a small contribution? In a Metro Manila that is all too overrun with urchins thrusting out hands or paper cups, this was worth the small contribution that I gladly offered. Of course, the urchins were there, too, one hanging on my arm for a split second, but I am mindful of the futility that accompanies piecemeal rendering of small change. Like those who want millionaires and billionaires to pay off the national debt of the United States, the folks who scold others for not giving on demand to the people in the street are barking up a limbless tree. The Big Dogs don’t have enough, even collectively, to pay off the debt. The rest of us don’t have enough to keep paying the world’s destitute, ad infinitum. It’s simply best to support programs that can raise up the people; inspire and enlighten, educate and empower them.

I arrived at 10:30 a.m., in Apollo 11 Village, in the Barangay of San Gregorio, in the southeast corner of Pasay, and close enough to the gradually cleaner, but still rather fetid, Estero de Tripa de Gallina, to be a bit pestered by mosquitoes. Apollo 11 Village was in a festive mood,as many were gathered for the 75th birthday of a local matriarch. The scene even became a tourist attraction, with a few European visitors taking pictures of the birthday singing and cake cutting. I demurred on that front, out of respect for the lady and her family. My mission at that point was more quotidian: Walking to Mercury Drug, a mile to the west, to pick up spare razor blades. It was irksome to me, to have a day’s growth of beard, and my razor handle not fit into the blade. (For whatever reason, it would be more cooperative the next day).

My beloved contacted me and talked about all the things that had been going on in her life, over the past two weeks. She is always up front, so long as I give her the space that any person needs and deserves. We may well get closer, this time around. This visit may be a “return to forever” (with apologies to Chick Correa). It will, in any case, be memorable and nurturing, at least for me, and hopefully for both of us.

Here, for fans of the technojazz of the 1970s. is Return to Forever’s Majestic Dance, from their “Romantic Warrior” LP. Yes, it is an acquired taste for many, but I have grown to admire Chick Correa, Wayne Shorter, Al Di Meola and the rest, for their dedication to consciousness raising.

The Road to Diamond, Day 53: Widen the Circle

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January 20, 2025- Over 400 people gathered at the modest United Methodist Church, in celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Many marched from Prescott College, around the Courthouse and back to the church. Others gathered at the church, in advance of the celebration. I walked from Home Base I to the College, and caught up with the marchers as they were stopped on the west side of Courthouse Square, then went over to the Church.

The celebration itself had several moments of joy, especially a lengthy spoken word poem and address by Jeff Daverman, a progressive activist. He again stressed the need to maintain action, in pursuit of one’s goals, especially as it pertains to justice. Jeff stressed nonviolence, a key point for people across the spectrum to keep in mind, in this time of social ferment. (Is there ever a time when there isn’t social ferment?) After several songs, by Womansong, Rose-Gibbs Duo,and Prescott Interfaith Choir, another activist, Truth B. Told, took the stage and also called for a concerted effort, day to day, to bring about social justice. He also stressed nonviolence, but did not call for non-confrontation. No Black man growing up hard, in a Michigan factory town-or anywhere, for that matter, can be expected to view the world the way Whites view it.

A little girl was soloist for Prescott Interfaith Choir, on a song whose message called for widening the circle. Jeff, and Chris (aka Truth), both spoke to the dilemma faced by Whites, especially in a town with few African-Americans, itself having the past of a Sundown Town. (Except for the few who settled here, in the 1870s, Black people were not allowed to stay overnight in Prescott, until the 1970s.) The circle, in that respect, is a fair amount looser than it was back then. That was 50 years ago, though, and there is a lot more to be done, in the expansion of our diversity.

The thing is, though, diversity cannot be forced, nor can it be contrived. Each individual has the responsibility for her(his) own personal growth. Gimmicks, like DEI committees, will not, of themselves lead to the widening of the circle. Conversely, canceling Diversity, Equity and Inclusion will not make the issues that led to these committees go away. Equity is not a four letter + two word. It means, simply, being impartial and fair. In that respect, it has the same cachet as equality. Inclusion means inviting those who might be marginalized into the decision-making process, especially in matters that pertain to them. Diversity may shake the comfort zones of those whose world has been homogeneous, for a very long time, but it will not shatter that world.

Widening the circle depends on each of us, at least a little, every day.

The Road to Diamond, Day 51: “Everything’s Gonna Hurt”

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January 18, 2025- So said a veteran athletic coach to a pre-teen with whom he had worked a few years back, and had not seen in a while. This was in reference to the boy saying he was almost twelve, which sparked Coach’s musings on the joys of adolescence. Everything does hurt, physically, mentally and emotionally, as the body goes from childhood towards adulthood. It is one reason why, after taking Developmental Psychology, I let go of any residual anger I might have felt towards those who bullied me in junior high school. They, for the most part, grew up to lead lives of industry and decency. Those who did not were pretty much nasty to everyone. They also died young.

I have had few aches and pains in my life. There was a bad back, after lifting my semi-conscious wife in 1991, in a situation that is too delicate and personal to share on this blog. (It was, long story short, due to an allergic reaction to medication.) The rest is negligible, especially compared to the constant woes suffered by so many of my peers. A lot does hurt, as one gets deeper into seniorhood. I give credit to Life Long Vitality supplements, Zinzino oil, healthy diet and regular exercise. Sobriety also has a great deal to do with it.

After a brief bout with some sort of crud, I woke up healthy enough, and non-contagious, so today was a full one: Farmers’ Market, Zeke’s and a Baha’i spiritual feast. I took in a concert by another of Prescott’s best, a cover band called Scandalous Hands. That was where Coach was advising his young protege’. A while later, a man two years my senior was advising a couple of other men close to us in age about thriving in one’s seventies. He himself looked like a picture of health.

It could happen, one day, that everything will hurt. For now, all I am doing for myself and for others is enough to keep the pain at bay.

The Road to Diamond,Day 41: Unpredictable

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January 8, 2025- The ongoing saga of people settling in and around Los Angeles, for either a life of leisure or for pursuit of a fine, active regimen, and finding that Mother Nature has other ideas, has reached crisis proportions even more dire than in any past year. Perhaps it is due to the increased density of population, from even the 1990s-2010s, or just a consequence of rising global temperatures, but it seems worse.

Here at Home Base I, there was a brief period of snow, in the higher elevations, southwest of town and in the Santa Marias, to our northwest, but here in the downtown area, just a few sprinkles fell, late last night. We, like, California, are facing a Big Dry-at least until March. There is, of course, plenty of water-on paper, but I digress. The ultimate test of hydration for a community is if the taps start to trickle. Who knows if and when that will happen.

Life on the ground here remains fairly predictable, but on the larger scale, we may be seeing seismic changes, in short order, and it feels at times like the news cycle is whipsawing, back and forth. I have learned, though, that as long as the markets are open and there are no manufactured crises hitting too close to home, that we can each do our civic duty, show kindness to others-especially those most vulnerable and continue to speak our peace.

These things came to mind, this afternoon, as we considered another strange and unsettling time in our recent past: September, 2001. The teacher recalled his own experiences during that time, as a security guard in Phoenix. His wife was working in the tallest building in the city, at that time. He made a beeline to get her home, as soon as he saw what had happened in New York and at the Pentagon. In my case, I had no work that day, but heard over the radio about the first tower strike and also headed straight home, being glued to the TV screen most of the day. Penny and Aram went to their respective schools, which were let out early, as many parents were beside themselves, with “what ifs” and doomsday scenarios. I was just as glad they came home.

Stay aware, friends, and stay close to those you love-in California, in the frigid eastern half of the country and anywhere else that may be suffering in this winter of heightened challenge.