The Blind Dancer, and Other Marvels

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January 26, 2024- He danced with his beloved woman, confidently in her arms and with a serene expression, as Galactogogues gave another rousing and stellar performance, this evening. Blind since birth, the gentleman is an accomplished musician in his own right, and a regular at Raven Cafe. He is one of many marvels of our town, in his instrumentality and in his dancing.

A couple who have had a hard life, and have stuck together for over forty years, are monitoring me, since we had a disagreement about something, two months ago. They seem almost saintly, in and of themselves, yet inquire of mutual friends about my well-being, or so I’m told. It is something of a marvel, that this is even important to them. My life is not all that prominent in Prescott.

My work day began with an expectation, on my part, that this would be a quiet day, working with Special Needs children. The school is understaffed, though, and it was no surprise when I was informed by the Office Manager that my day would be split: Morning, teaching Music and Afternoon with a First grade class. After a dicey start, I was able to get access to the computer and video, in time to teach three groups of children about rhythm and tempo, using rhythm sticks, whilst listening to varying speeds of a video-based tune. Of course, they liked the prestissimo the best.  The middle school choir was self-directed, which was fortunate, as the teacher had not left plans for their class period. 

After some sober assessment of the overall situation, the OM decided that I should have an hour break, at lunch, and had me teach one more music class, using the same plan. Then there was First Grade, reading the chapter of “Charlotte’s Web, in which Wilbur decides he wants to try to spin a web of his own. Wilbur, for the unitiated, is a pig. The old “when pigs can fly” quip pretty much gives an idea of what happened next. Charlotte rightly points out that, as a domesticated animal, he is fed by the farmer, and so, is not in need of a web. A spider, on the other hand, must fend for self. The children got the point, that they are cared for, but that many people have to fend for themselves. Charlotte also compares her web to a bridge that people build-and with that, we segued into the topic of bridges. The afternoon was delightful.

Just before attending the latter part of the Galactogues concert, I joined an hour-long devotional, discussing the topic of Resurrection. We Baha’is see it as spiritual rebirth, rather than full-on re-emergence of a physical body, from the dead. I have had several dreams , over the years since Penny died, in which she had come back alive and I felt the need to re-arrange my life to accommodate her renewed presence. Realizing, upon waking, that this was only a dream, and that she is in a good place, I came to understand that her spirit is in a constant state of renewal and advancement. Indeed, whilst sitting at her grave site, in early December, I got affirmation that her spirit is pleased with, and had involvement in, my new friendship with another woman. I think that, as one of my primary spirit guides, Penny has made sure that I have all manner of friends, of both genders. One’s spiritual progress, after death, is probably the greatest of marvels.

Torn Plastic

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January 18, 2024- The technician went over Sportage, noting the areas that will be repaired, from December 4’s encounter with the traffic cone, and a small tear in the rear door lift-not part of the claim. I can mend the latter myself, using JB Weld, or maybe a clear epoxy. 

My recent time at Ghost Ranch restored a sense of competence in matters of handiwork. It had been a long time since I did anything that involved a degree of knowledge in one of the trades. I did paint my house in Phoenix, externally and most of the interior-just not enough to feel a sense of completion. Back then, Penny’s care was more important.      

I don’t have to do much, manually, here at Home Base 1-being a renter. If my life circumstances change, though, I would want to draw on the latent skill sets that served me quite well, last week. It boils down to patience, and being able to do things one step at a time. Multitasking often works against the craftsman, the manual labourer, whose work will never truly become outdated or inconsequential.

Tomorrow, I will prepare a small item for use as a necklace, which may be sent as a gift, for an upcoming Baha’i festival. That will be another affirmation of skill set. When Sportage comes back, next week, I will repair the torn spot on the door lift. It’s all a matter of self-confidence, and patience. 

Parents, raise your children in a degree of self-reliance. The Pros and experts won’t always be available to help.

Running the Maze

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January 6, 2024, Gallup- One of the classic experiments in Behavioural Psychology has rats running through a maze, in return for which any animal finding its way out will get a reward. 

It occurs to me that each of us can find ourselves running a maze, of sorts, in return for which we may receive a reward. I found myself working mazes, pretty much all day, and found the end, in each instance. 

Starting off, there were replies to a comment I posted on another social media outlet, regarding a local attempt at censorship. Most responders were opposed to the censorship ploy, but one, hailing back to bygone days, said that anyone going against conservative social norms deserves to be cut off. That really got the crowd going-piling on the hapless “good ol’boy”. I had to post that everyone was welcome on my page, so long as they did not advocate violence against those who hold a different point of view. I don’t go to drag shows, as they are not my cup of java. I also don’t go to rodeos, poker tournaments or gun shows. That doesn’t mean I think they should be banned, because I don’t. Parents can decide to not let their children view that format, and that’s their right. No one, though, should decide, for other informed adults, what they may see or not see-so long as the format does not include child pornography or horrific violence against defenseless people or animals. I found my way out of that maze.

Next up, there was a gathering to honour a Baha’i couple, who are leaving our area, in a few days. It was well attended, with great camaraderie and delicious food. There was one rub, for me. I talked with friends, past the time that came for me to head up to Farmers Market, and helping with breakdown. I found my way, belatedly, out of that maze and made my way through Saturday afternoon traffic, getting to the Market grounds by 12:50, only twenty minutes behind schedule. Bumping against the maze barriers wasn’t so bad.

The Market breakdown was no maze, though, and something I’ve wondered about for a while: ”How might our breakdown crew better connect with the set-up team?”  was answered, as a member of that team had stayed around, for that very purpose, and gave us hints as to how we might make their work easier. The suggestions were implemented, immediately.

Finally, there was the fairly quick packing and heading out to this old mining town, my rest stop on the way to Ghost Ranch. It turned out to be no maze. The skies were clear and the roads, bare. I am now at my standard resting place in town: The Dineh-owned Colonial/Ranchito Motel.

All My Relations

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January 1, 2024- Mother, who gave me life, and taught me how to love and live, may your time left on this plane be happy and satisfying, in the way you choose. I will see you in late Spring.

Brothers, both in blood and in spirit, I honour your lives, and am gratified that you honour mine. I may not do as you think I should, but know that my path is one of service-and, especially my brothers in the Home Base 1 community, know that I am not the only answer to your predicaments, or relief for your frustrations. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Lake Havasu, Flagstaff, Phoenix, Dinetah, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle, Oregon, Alaska, Toronto, Cape Breton and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sisters, both in blood and in spirit, I honour you lives and am gratified that you honour mine. I feel your love and support, and know that you will have the strength to face any fire, with resolve and dignity. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Bullhead City, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Oklahoma, Tennessee, South Dakota, Dinetah, Hopi, California, Colorado, Nevada, Oregon, British Columbia, Toronto, Cape Breton, Newfoundland, Bretagne, the Philippines (Bicol, Pasig and Palawan) and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sons and nephews, both in blood and in spirit, I honour the men you have become and hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You each have a Path of your own to follow, and I trust that Path will lead you to a place of honour, fruition and glory. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Texas, Lake Havasu, Yuma, Phoenix, Tucson, Santa Fe, San Diego, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Pennsylvania, the Philippines (Bicol, Cebu and Olongapo) and beyond, I treasure the men you have become or are becoming.

Daughters and nieces, in spirit, I honour the women you have become. I hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of how a man should treat women and girls, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You are shining lights, each with a Path of your own to follow, independent of any man, yet perhaps walking in tandem with one of your own choosing. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Williams, Dinetah, Hopi, Texas, California, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Colorado, Santa Fe, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Montreal, Jalisco, the Philippines (Paranaque and Manila) and beyond, I treasure the women you have become or are becoming.

Aunts and uncles, in blood and in spirit, I honour your examples and your untiring devotion to family and community. I only hope that I have acted in ways that have mostly brought honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Dinetah, Hopi, Tucson, New Mexico, California, Alaska, Wenatchee, and beyond, I treasure your love and support of your families.

Multitude of cousins, in blood and in spirit, I honour all that you have done, and will do, for the betterment of your families and communities. I hope I bring honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York, Missouri, Virginia, Florida, California, Colorado and beyond, I treasure your friendship and support.

My beloved new friend, I treasure the day you came into my life, and honour the path you have followed, the incredible woman you are, the family you have raised and the good you brought to your profession. I hope I bring dignity and honour to all the days of our friendship and that I am as much a blessing, and a credit, to you as you are to me. I regard your family as my own. May all goodness and well-being envelop your life in Greater Manila, or wherever you may go. See you soon.

Father, grandparents, my first True Love, youngest brother, parents-in-law and all departed relations, in blood and in spirit, you decorated my life, informed my character and continue in both respects. I feel your guidance from another Realm and hope that, by and large, I bring honour and dignity to your memory and your spiritual reality.

All my relations, you honour me, just by being.

The Long Game

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December 29, 2023- I went to breakfast at a truck stop this morning, served by someone who came out with an interesting take on life: ”I work hard for my money, and I don’t want to take on any squatters.” The person mentioned paying down a mortgage, so there is a house in the picture. Those who earn their keep, in my view, have a legitimate claim to determining how their money is shared-including, to some extent, contributions to the tax rolls. Where we run into trouble is in not communicating to one and all, the concept that each of us is responsible to contribute to the common weal. There should be no layabouts, when others are working. There also should be no denying an able-bodied, willing worker a chance to contribute to said common weal. 

A few hours later, I went to a favourite establishment, in the same town, to get a plate of enchiladas, most of which has come back with me to Home Base, in the ongoing regimen of portion control. There was a new server on board, my surrogate daughter having decided to go back to college, with her husband’s support. The new lady had her children with her, as R always did. She showed the strength of the home and work juggler-managing to be server, cashier, busser- and mother. The regulars know this, and encourage her to keep on-at whatever pace she finds workable. Someday soon, her “tween” daughter will find this out as well.

These thoughts came back to me this evening, as I ponder a few relationships that have arisen, over the past few years. It is a childhood fantasy, that friendships sprout up and stay together, with little time elapsed or effort made to strengthen them. The first fantasy is a product of the brevity of a child’s life, up to that point. The second is usually corrected, with the tasks that need to be jointly done, even in fairly uncomplicated play. One who doesn’t do his/her part in the clean-up, at the end of the playtime, is shunned, sooner or later, by the others. Someone who is not trustworthy is figured out by playmates, and likewise finds a lot of alone time.

I have had a few lapses of judgment, and done what I could to make amends. I am willing to bet that we all have, at one point or another. There are no robots in this crowd. With my newer friends, one in particular, only time and consistency on my part will breed trust. It is with this acknowledgement, that the long game-frequent and clear communication, generosity of thought and action-and being present, both physically and mentally, over a period of years, is now in progress. These relationships are worth it. I hope yours also work well.

No Doldrums This Time

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December 19, 2023-

When my day starts with a message from the human being I love most dearly,

when my efforts on behalf of a group of children are acknowledged and appreciated,

when I am able to listen to a presentation by a highly-esteemed spiritual teacher,

when my little nest egg continues to show the security that enables me to live in service,

when many of those I also love dearly continue to show up in this humble life, and provide affirmations,

when I can honestly say that affirmations from within myself arise much more readily,

when I see that at least some in power are acknowledging, and working towards relief of, the pain being meted out to the homeless (both military veterans AND civilians), the dispossessed from the Global South, the victims of the Lahaina fires, the refugees in Gaza, the refugees in Darfur, those who suffered losses in weather-related events this week, those displaced in Iceland,

I feel no doldrums, this December.

Awakening

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December 17,2023- As I sit here, writing, I am watching a film, entitled “Awaken“. In this, First Nations people, from across British Columbia are talking about their memories, and impressions of their current lives. There is talk of how the elders have given them the tools they need to sustain their lives, of how they seek reconciliation and the ability to forgive their oppressors. There is a revelation of how connected they remain, to nature, to animals.

I will, as ever, be connected, in this coming 8 Universal Year- a year of action, both individual and collective, with the Indigenous people across North America, in the Philippines and in other countries that I will visit in September and October. Dineh and Hopi figure in this next year. So do Tohono O’Odham, Maya and Shoshone (in Nevada), Tewa, Towa and Keresan (northern Puebloan), Yakima, the various nations of Vancouver Island, Sunshine Coast,and southern inland British Columbia and the Miqmaq, of Atlantic Canada.

I will be connected to children, youth and adults of all ages. I will be connected to women and men alike. Voices are getting stronger, and the people are awakening-a higher level of consciousness than the insipid term “woke” can ever signify. Where as the latter is a slogan, a cliche and a diversion, being used to distract people, by inflaming passions, the former-the rising, the increased understanding, will be deemed dangerous, by those who regard themselves as powers that be. 

The people rising is not a threat to those who sincerely want to help raise the standard of living, who truly value the input of those they serve, of those with whom they live. The people rising is only a threat to those who seek to dominate, to eliminate, to exterminate. Most of these are individuals and claques, whose consciousness is several steps removed from the lives of those they want to quash and destroy. The truly great leaders of history, and of our own time, have warned us, repeatedly, of this: Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perce, Frederick Douglass, Jose Rizal, Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Julius Nyerere, Kwame Nkrumah, John Hume, Rabbi Judah Magnes and Ali Abu Awwad, Tanya Tagaq and Autumn Peltier, Neville Bonner and Adam Goodes, Xanana Gusmao, Marcos Terena, Milagro Sala, Feliciano Valencia, Miriam Miranda, Wilma Mankiller. Many are the names you may not recognize. Search for them; learn of their efforts for humanity.

My small path will be concerned with the well-being of my friends and family (wherever they may live), Home Base community, state and nation-and across Planet Earth. Some self-care is always in play and my mahal na isa (dear one) is ever on my mind and deep in my heart. For all of us, though, the primary need is to stay awake, and look out for one another.

These are my thoughts, as I watch Awaken.

Here is another clip that expresses the sentiments in the above-mentioned film. https://vimeo.com/128567591

Inextinguishable

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December 15, 2023- ”I told the truth, I didn’t come to fool ya“- Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah

The young boy, who I hadn’t seen in over a year, came up to me at the end of the school day, and with quiet confidence that I don’t recall him having, a year ago, asked if I remembered him. I did, and by name as well as countenance, though he said his name, for good measure. This has happened repeatedly, especially the past few years, as teenagers who studied under me as children, come up, remind me of who they are and recount their memories of elementary school, or middle school. Their stories are fresh in my mind, as well.

Going back further, I have met some of the people I knew as children, in Hopi and Dineh, now in their thirties and forties, over the past five or ten years. One, who recently passed on, after a long illness, was man of great integrity, in addition to being a talented artist, producing colourful and detailed prints, even whilst bedridden. Each of them, even after enduring unbelievable heartbreak and personal setbacks, one after another, have kept the flames of hope and of love for family alive, in their inextinguishable hearts. These are the true heroes in my life.

This notion may be extended now, across the Pacific Ocean, to the friends I met in October. Each of them has also experienced more heartache and loss in a month, at some point in their lives, than I have endured in a decade. Yet, they still go forward, and largely in acts of service to others. Their spirits, too, are inextinguishable.

I am ever grateful to the Divine, and to my spirit guides, for all those who have come my way, and for those yet to appear.

Suspicion

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December 7, 2023- The gentleman regarded me warily, and had several questions, as to my reason for being at a gathering of social justice activists, this evening. I later saw him talking with one of my friends, and pointing in my direction. This friend no doubt vouched for my sincerity and involvement in those organizations that seek to bring about harmony. I later came across a bumper sticker, that said “Love your enemies and you won’t have any.” It seems to me that those who claim to represent social justice ought to work at ridding themselves of judgementality. It helps to have an open heart.

Earlier today, I was with a group of students, who were grateful for my presence, and help in getting calmed down. The lead teacher, not all that welcoming, was at least tolerant of any assistance I could offer. There were few incidents of misbehaviour, and those that did occur were quickly resolved, and in a peaceful manner. The suspicious lead was at least thankful, at the end of the day.

It was mentioned a few times, this evening, that 2023 has been a stressful year. I can sense that, in any number of people, but I have to say that life, in general, can be stressful-in any given year. For social justice workers, this coming year will no doubt be full of stressful moments. The key to not walking about, looking over one’s shoulder, and seeing a bogey man in every closet, is self-confidence. I have had to work on that, mightily, in years past.

It helped, certainly, that I found a message from a dear friend on my laptop, this morning, but even on days when that doesn’t happen, I know to go forward and trust that the right thing is going to be, at least by day’s end.

Actual Vacation, Day 8

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November 27. 2023, Grapevine- The dream was all too vivid, and all-too ridiculous: I was at a seminar for teachers, wearing white chinos, of all things, and spilled salsa from the provided breakfast burrito. I went to clean my pants, and for some reason, grabbed a push broom to carry with me (never did figure that part out). Walking to find a restroom, I happened by an African English-language academy, and an old-style trattoria, where there were many people gathered, and as I wandered aimlessly back and forth, looking for a restroom, a teenaged girl told me my meandering was getting tiresome. A staffer came out of a back room and started randomly filling recessed open concrete hollows, with rose petals. I began to think the girl was right and I was being a tiresome distraction. Then, I woke up and realized that none of this was happening, nor did it have to.

My reality was that of a slightly chilly, but sun-filled day. I spent the day on a small service project, to be continued on free moments Wednesday, to hopefully generate a just conclusion to a long-standing matter, for a Filipino family. Otherwise, it was a quiet day of relaxation, with Aram focusing on his remaining school projects and Yunhee back at work.

The final three months of my being 72 were no less fulfilling than the other nine. I began September with a drive across southern Colorado, then three days at Eastern Colorado Baha’i Summer School,which as last year was largely a family affair-and I was a bit more included this time. Once the school had adjourned, I made my way east, as detailed in earlier posts. Mom’s 95th birthday, and the arrival of grandniece Adeline Bryan, were the milestone events. Paying respects to a fallen police officer, in Minnesota, and a beloved cousin, in Pennsylvania, were also high points.

October saw my first visit to the Philippines, via San Diego, San Francisco and T’aipei. Getting to meet a sponsored teen, and helping him get a wardrobe item he very much needed, was a wondrous start to this visit. Being guided and watched over by three fellow Baha’is, whilst in Manila, was a magnificent follow-up. Respects were paid to two of the great figures of Filipino history: Dr. Jose Rizal, regarded as the country’s national hero, and Lapulapu- who ranks similar to Cochise or Black Elk, in terms of standing up for the rights of First Nations people. I made more friends for the rest of my life, which is the main purpose of going anywhere.

November has seen a productive month at Home Base, and a salubrious week at HB2. Red Cross work was intense, but compressed into one 12-hour day. School assignments were uniformly pleasant. The flu came and went-courtesy of a crowded reception area at LAX. I had one of the finest meals of my life, at 1845 Taste of Texas.

Adi’s birth was a happy milestone. Transitions in the other direction saw the departures of an old high school friend and a cousin-in-law. Steve Finnegan and Caleb Jayne were both humble tradesmen, but neither man was anybody’s fool. Both will be long-missed. Jimmy Buffett, Terry Kirkman, David McCallum and Suzanne Somers all entertained us and engaged our social awareness, as the best of their caliber do. Rosalynn Carter and Ady Barkan raised the bar for true public service.

Now comes another early morning commemoration of the Ascension of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, and with it my re-set, to the age of 73-as of 1:30 p.m. EST, officially. It has been lovely, being 72.