Category Archives: children

Down to Earth In A Sonesta

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 3, 2022, Atlanta- I left Heart of Dixie Motel, the fixer-upper that did not even have its own towels. (I had my own, for just such an eventuality.) It was mid-morning and I had plenty of time to get up here, to mid-town Atlanta, by the time I was to host a Zoom call. So it went, and the two paradigms of life in America stood in contrast to one another. Rural Dadeville, with mostly comfortable single family homes and a motel or two to house migrant workers, just up the road from the aspiring surrounds of Lake Martin-a fishing and boating mecca that gives east central Alabama a much-needed boost, versus Atlanta, the symbol of the South that rose again, with every amenity that one could call upon.

I find myself in a Sonesta Hotel, one of those which have become part of the system first established by A.M. Sonnabend, a Boston-based entrepreneur, of whom I heard as a child. Mr. Sonnabend lent the first three letters of his name to the brand-“Son”esta. I worked in a Sonesta, in Bangor, Maine, for a few months, in 1976-7, while simultaneously feeling my way in the newly-emerging field of educating the emotionally-disabled. I held my own in that motel job, and may actually have been better off sticking with the field, at least until I got my head on straighter. Things happen the way they should, though, and here I am, 46 years later, glad to have reached equilibrium in my life and impacted a fair number of children and youth in a positive way.

The next day or two will find me bidding farewell to the Hyundai Sonata, which safely took me to Miami Beach and back, via Brunswick, Amelia Island, Kennedy Space Center, Key West, Big Cypress, Naples (FL), Lake Okeechobee, Tampa-St. Petersburg, Spring Hill, and the Carter Country of southwest Georgia. Thinking things through, in the safety of a comfortable hotel room, is not hard. I have Celtic music gently playing and the knowledge that, although the faith-based activities I hoped to have included in this journey were eclipsed by lingering pandemic-related restrictions, I did right by family members along the way and made new, if fleeting, friendships-with people I may very well encounter again in the future. I kept the online meeting commitments I had, that either did not conflict with family engagements or get rendered cumbersome by lack of a proper venue at the time they were scheduled.

Above all else, I did not fold, did not collapse or get shaken by either aloneness or by the ignorance of others who did not honour my presence, even though I did theirs. March was both a hard energy month and a stage filled with opportunities for growth. April, May and June will bring more of the latter-mostly around Home Base, but with another likely journey of observation and service, towards the end of Spring.

The flutes and strings are telling me to be gentle with self and re-group, in any way that such is needed.

A Picasso Immersion

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Posted by on in children, Entertainment, Family, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

March 17, 2022, Newnan, GA- The conflict in Ukraine brings up images of Pablo Picasso’s Guernica, at least for me. Thus today’s visit to the Picasso Immersion, at the Pullman Warehouse Exhibition Hall, in Atlanta’s Five Points area, was particularly poignant. Guernica, for the unitiated, is the large painting in the center of this montage of Picasso’s cubist works.

Picasso’s works, from 1890-1960,were largely his reaction to the horrific World Wars, Spanish Civil War and what he saw as the rise of materialism. Pablo Picasso had his own mind about the political reality of the day and would depict those he regarded as corrupt and decadent, in a monstrous manner-representing Francisco Franco, for example, as a pile of inedible food, in Guernica, itself named for a village in northern Spain that had been bombed by Franco’s forces during the Spanish Civil War.

Picasso was a varied artist, though, and was able to represent people beloved to him, in a more conventional manner. He wrote poetry as well, such as the autobiographical “A Lonely Road Is That I Walked”:

“I walk a lonely road, the one and only one I’ve ever known.
I don’t know where it goes, but I keep walking on and on.
I walked the lonely and un trodden road for I was walking on the bridge
of the broken dreams.
I don’t know what the world is fighting for or why I am being instigated.
It’s for this that I walk this lonely road for I wish to be
ALONE!
So I am breaking up, breaking up.
It is the lack of self control that I feared as there is something
Inside me that pulls the need to surface, consuming, confusing.
Being called Weird, I walk this lonely road for on the verge of broken dreams.
And so I walk this lonely road and so just keep walking still” – pablo picasso

Like e.e. cummings after him, Picasso created in a self-deprecating fashion. He was somewhat devoted to his children, who were the only people allowed in his studio, while he worked. From the 1920s until the end of World War II, he hobnobbed with the avant-garde, in the south of France, only occasionally returning to Spain, for short periods of time. He reacted to what he saw as crass materialism, by becoming a Communist after World War II and continuing to depict members of the economic and social elite, in unflattering ways.

Picasso has always been a source of fascination to me, although admittedly an acquired taste, and requiring of considerable pondering and rumination, as to the meaning of his surrealist work. This immersion event has whetted my appetite for exploration of other great artists of our time and of earlier eras.

There was no corned beef and cabbage for us, today. The crew gathered for St. Patrick’s Day dinner, at a Taco Max in Dunwoody, north of Atlanta, and enjoyed fairly copious amounts of guacamole-along with rather good Mexican dishes. The children have their own take on everything, much like Senor Picasso. I hope to see them reach for the stars and not suffer undue hardship. It was a rare, but most enjoyable visit with our Dunwoody family.

May art, and creativity, ever be honoured and encouraged.

Contaminated Minds

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

March 9, 2022-

Bombing hospitals intimidates no one. It only confirms the notion that the bombers are of a toxic mentality.

Firing at children, who are running to safety, only endears the killer to those already contaminated in their minds.

Censoring information that is deemed contrary to one’s own preconceived notions fools no one-not those supporters who also believe in fairness, and certainly not those who are already opposed to the official narrative. It only shows that there is toxicity, even when the censor presents self to the people, as righteous.

The proof of contaminated minds consists of the lies, the duplicity and the corruption that permeates so much of what we see in many of the halls of power.

Are you not better off, cleansing yourselves?

A Simple Message

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 3, 2022- The little toddler looked over at me, from her booster seat, and began to twirl her still-wrapped straw, as other family members were eating. I was waiting for my own meal to be served, so I picked up my still-wrapped straw and began to play with it, thus engaging the child for a bit. Across the room, the bartender/server was watching me, with some consternation, until her busser remarked that there was a baby involved. Thus, I avoided being carted off by the White Coat Squad.

The day had started with a check of my Saturn’s computer system, and a reset of one of the warning lights. That done, I headed to Phoenix, and commemorated Penny’s passing, which was eleven years ago, this Saturday. Flowers, prayers and reflection at the gravesite do not minimize her remaining spiritual presence, all these years later. At the end of my day in the city, an hour or so was spent with a resilient soul, who has cultivated paternal and avuncular relationships with a good many young people, the world over. I cannot hold a candle to “Uncle Lal”, in that regard.

Getting back to the initial story: I had stopped at a steak house, just southeast of Prescott Valley, which I hadn’t visited in over a year. I like taking one of the high top tables, which are just suited for either single diners or couples. Across from my table was the family of five, including the engaging little girl. In between her acceptance of bites of food offered by her mother, she would hold up two fingers and point to herself, which I took to mean that she was two. Then she would point at me, and again at herself, and hold up two fingers.

It was a simple message, recognizing that none of us are ever really alone.

Scorpions

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Posted by on in children, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 16, 2022- Intellectuals love to savage children. It makes them feel oh, so clever-and relieves them of any accusation of being sentimental. Ignorant people love to address children by their surnames, as if they were adults. It makes them feel like they are readying the young ones for a hard world. The insecure, among the older generations love also the see no daylight between childhood and adulthood. It helps them to mask the pain of their own formative years. The greedy love to use children for their own ends-because nothing is more important than stroking their unbridled egos.

My prayers are with Kamila Valieva, that her native talent was disrupted, waylaid, and maybe destroyed, by the greedy among her own countrymen; that she is being held solely responsible for this, by some of her predecessors in the Olympic figure skating realm, whose jealousy is so ridiculously transparent-and justified, to the extent that it is possible to excuse their vitriol, only by the presence of dope in her system and that the cursory reading and viewing public will take the braying of the international sports media to heart-and vilify the girl, for the duplicity and treachery of her handlers. She could have done it all, without the drugs that society loves to hate, but no-once again, the elite show themselves as scorpions, eating their young.

May God bless and heal you, Kamila.

Red Hearts, Not Broken

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

February 14, 2022- Short of being on a trail or on a journey of connection and observation, there is no place that I’d rather be than surrounded by the energy and ingenuity of youth. This is what keeps me going into schools, on occasion, over a year after official retirement. This, and continuing to notice the occasions when children and youth are treated in less than stellar fashion.

My own parenting skills were not A+, but there was never a time when Son was not loved and treated in a respectful manner, befitting his age. He was accustomed to hardship, during the time of his mother’s illness. He was still very much front and center, for both of us. It is thus, that Aram is a compassionate and loving husband, and should it be their wish, he and Yunhee will make loving parents.

The people with whom I spent the day, today, for the most part showed all the signs of being well-tended and loved. There are many reasons, none good, why people don’t show their children the love they deserve. There is one major reason why those who are worthy parents step up and raise their kids well: They themselves are grounded and have a clear vision of what the next generation, and the one after that, should be.

My siblings and I had that sort of upbringing, and it is with my gratitude that Mother is still with us and able to see her grandchildren-and great-grandchildren also turning out to be strong, forward-looking, compassionate people. Their hearts have not been broken, and I pray that remains ever so.

Likewise, I will continue to work to mend the hearts that are broken and keep the rest whole. The cliche is right: It shouldn’t hurt to be a child- or for that matter, to be human.

Feisty

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Education, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 10, 2022- The usually quiet, self-absorbed girl sat with a group of more outgoing friends, watching as they crafted “pointy fingers” out of computer paper. For some reason, this is the rage among pre-teens in this community, right now. As long as they are not used as weapons, and does not interfere with lessons, it’s tolerated. The quiet one decided to give this craft a try, putting the paper concoctions on three of her fingers, eventually deciding the devices were too tight on her fingers, and giving them back to her friends.

Her actions, in both directions, were a good thing, in my view. She is a bright, engaging child and can only benefit from taking part in frivolous, but harmless, activities. Conversely, she got a couple of the more rambunctious kids to open books and read quietly for about twenty minutes. That is a start, as well.

I say this, having been an introvert for a good part of my childhood. I am more given to ambiversion, over the past several years. It’s just more enjoyable to be among others and to exchange views and experiences, with a wide variety of people. It is this that I wish to see for those who remind me of myself as a child-and thus to show their inner feistiness.

Forthrightness is the outer expression of internal security and self-trust. If it means being a bit mischievous, that’s okay. Secure adults, in turn, can deal with a modicum of feistiness from children and youths, and direct that energy in a way that builds the young person’s character.

Besides, I would rather have feisty people looking out for me, in the event I someday become infirm and confined. Even if that doesn’t happen, spirited people are still more fun.

Their Presence

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Posted by on in children, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 9, 2022- The little girl hovered around, while her parents were engaged in a teleconference. Occasionally, one of them would answer her question, whilst muting themselves. She still wanted to hear much of what was being said, and so kept a discrete but noticeable presence, to the side of the camera.

The comely young woman posted that she liked me, and asked if we might be friends. Doing a courteous bit of diligence, I saw the likely reason for her out-of-the-blue comment: All of her friends, and several of the posters on her page, were from a part of the world known for grifters. She herself may or may not have had a sincere interest in befriending a man old enough to be her grandfather, but I’ve been among the people whom she counts as online friends, and the hands are outstretched, 24/7. I took a pass.

Noon at a local bakery/restaurant is packed solid, yet I found a table in the sunny patio. Most of those present were my age or older, lunch being one of the prime social hours of the day. I was pleasantly surprised that my simple order took less than ten minutes to reach the table. That speaks well of the perks of simplicity. I wished the crowd a very fine afternoon.

Today was my self-imposed deadline to get a Valentine’s card to Mother, in the mail. Every year I can send cards, and small gifts, for the days set aside for her being honoured is a very good year. Her presence means the world, as long as she is feeling well and happy-and, all the more, of sound mind.

Random Thoughts On The Passing Scene

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

February 7, 2021- I had a relatively productive day, getting a Special Needs child to do what her lead teacher said was a prodigious amount of work. That the child let me know when she’d had enough, in a nice way, was certainly fair, and she got a break for the last half hour.

The title of today’s post is borrowed from the great Thomas Sowell, with whom I have rarely agreed, but whose tone has always been respectful towards those of other viewpoints and whose diction has always been impeccable. Dr. Sowell’s columns of this ilk would touch on three or four items of general interest. This post will look at three such topics.

I am curious, as to why Supreme Court Associate Justice Clarence Thomas joined in a ruling that stayed a prior ruling, by a lower court, which would have nullified redistricting maps for Congressional seats, in the State of Alabama. Then again, he ruled earlier, with the majority of the Court, that much of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was antiquated and thus worthy of disposal. It is likely that the good Justice feels he will vote anyway, when the spirit moves, and needs no special fiat from Congress, or any other organization. He’s right in that respect, and it should always have been thus. Reality, though, oftentimes needs a nudge. No one in their right mind is going to tell an Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court to shuffle on down the road. As for those among the Joe and Jane Sixpacks of the nation, who happen to be African-American, the facts sometimes tell a different story. We have a long way to go, in the area of bona fide equality between the “races”. Going backwards should never be on the table.

Nina O’Brien, one of the top members of the United States Olympic Skiing Team, suffered a debilitating leg injury, in yesterday’s competition, at the Beijing Games. My parental mode kicked into gear, at this news. The heart hurts when any young person hurts, especially when the person is acting responsibly and in good faith. Active sport always entails a risk, as does any vigourous activity. Nonetheless, and even though this particular Games event is unlikely to turn out to be an American medals blowout, my heart goes out to everyone who has made the effort to keep this a sporting event, and not a High Five for authoritarian excess.

On a more personal note, in planning a combination observational and family/friends visit to the Southeast, from mid-March to mid-April, I came upon an eponymous soul, who is one of the management team at a botanical garden, in southwest Florida. He says he’ll be glad to meet me, and likewise. There are only about a half dozen of us, so this interesting encounter will likely be far more personally affirming than, say, a gathering of the John Smith Association or Mohammad Ali Society, if such entities even exist. That said, my best to everyone named John Smith, or Mohammad Ali.

When A Trailer Is A Palace

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 28, 2022, Marana, AZ- The short, solid and loquacious woman stood outside the trailer she shares with her oldest son. Her instructions to me were concise, clear and almost unending, from the time I let her know I was in the area to the time I bade them both farewell.

There are at least six mobile home parks in the area of Tucson where G and C live. They each make the best of life here, with G doing what she has done, as long as I’ve known her (which is nearly forty years): Teaching all who will listen about Baha’u’llah and His message. She is also a vibrant champion of Native American history and the legacy of the people.

When I arrived at the trailer park, this evening, I was directed, in short order, towards the resting place of two of G’s children. We spent a half hour or so, not worrying about the chilly wind-but paying homage to two brave souls, who were cut down before they had the chance to bring their talents to the service of humanity.

Once back at the trailer, I was reminded of the admonition of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, that the simplest of dwellings ought to be regarded with dignity and respect. In G’s room, I felt I was in a palace-and her presence was regal. I, who have managed to fill a three-room apartment with all manner of stuff, stood in awe of this humble woman, who has little-yet the place seemed altogether full. I was given small gifts that I will forever treasure.

One never knows how a day will end, even when much has been planned in advance. Today was a truly special one.