Category Archives: collaborating

Under The Big Moon

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Inspiration, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 16, 2022- The first thing that came out of my mouth, this morning, when asked “What’s up?” was “The Moon!”, which was still true, even if the orb in the western sky was a Luna of chalk white. She’s big this month, which just means closer to Earth, in terms of visual perception.

Often in the past, I have noticed an uptick in strange or unanticipated behaviours during the period of full moon. That was not so tonight, at least in the places I visited-Rafter Eleven, where a four person Country & Western band played a couple of sets, with a few couples dancing, and Raven Cafe, where a jazz ensemble was in full swing-again with brave souls getting up and swinging their partners round and round. It was a rather mellow, but still enjoyable affair. The closest we may come to looniness will be on Monday night, when I will click on an Ecstatic Dance session-but that’s on Zoom, and I will have my shades drawn, so no one will be the wiser.

Today was itself full of civility- from breakfast at Zeke’s, through a morning Zoom call, and a visit to the rather windswept Farmers’ Market. Yep, if anyone was getting into the loony groove, it was Mother Nature. Gusts were up to 40 mph, and those present were helping hold on to the tarps shading several booths.

Perhaps all the spiritual energy coming from those observing Easter, Passover and Ramadan is helping put everyone else’s energy into focus. We Baha’is will be contributing our fair share, when Ridvan starts on Thursday-and there will be plenty of help from Wiccans and other Naturists, when Earth Day is observed, next weekend. Of course, by then, the Moon will have largely waned. The eclipses are coming, though, in the first half of May. There’s rarely a dull moment.

Blood Simple

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Technical stuff

April 14, 2022- This evening, I saw a snippet of a drama, discussing the curious matter of blood type chimerism, in which a person could have more than one blood type. The matter is explained in detail, in: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/17053463/ and https://www.healthline.com/health/chimerism.

This issue is raised, when a child has a blood type, which neither parent of record is known to have. Each parent may then be tested for chimerism, in the hopes that nothing skeevy has gone on and resulted in the child having been sired by a third party. Of course, this matter can be complicated by in vitro fertilization, sperm or egg donors, or just a series of multiple partners, prior to the pregnancy and birth.

I am old school, when it comes to such matters. I fell in love and married, once, and did not stray. There was never any doubt, as to our son’s parentage, as there is no doubt in probably 90% of all childbirths-even those which are “unwanted”. Ours was very much wanted, of course, and any grandchildren I may have will enjoy the same welcome from their parents.

Blood can be a simple thing. It’s the emotional aspect that makes matters of the heart get complicated. This also is true of relationships between extended families, communities and nations. We have only to get back to the very basic awareness that all bleed red, and are one human race.

The Long Run

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

April 13, 2022- It almost seems, some days, like I spend the day on Zoom. It sometimes seems that I pull the face mask out of my pocket, at random, unexpected moments, getting appreciative nods from the fearful and glares from those who see their own freedom under assault. As the pandemic waxes and wanes, sometimes within the same week, its short-and long-term legacies show how they are with us, ready to do their jobs at a moment’s notice.

Health is a funny thing. I have managed, with the skillful help of my dermatology team, to beat back basal cells that had accumulated over a few years of spotty sunscreen applications-or perhaps, as a gadfly told me in Miami Beach, a few weeks ago, from applying the wrong type of sunscreen. Before these, there was my almost total disregard for my own health, both physical and mental, whilst taking care of my beloved wife in her final years.

Now I am mostly back on an even keel. There is much to be done, here during the next two months and in mid-summer; on the road at other points during the year. A period of nine years, 2022-2031, starts in a week, during which the world will hear and see a lot more about the Baha’i Faith and the Teachings of its Founder, Baha’u’llah, than many have heard up to now. I will have apart in that effort, both here in Prescott and in many other places. On my last journey, to the Southeast, most discussion of Baha’i teachings took place in a family setting, and in short conversations with a sharp-minded person from the Netherlands.

The long run, however, will see more than new wine in this old bottle. As we keep seeing, a lot of things to which we are accustomed, both big and small, have fallen away. This will long continue-in areas from statecraft to roles within the family; from modes of transportation to the design and organization of dwellings. All of this re-organization, however disconcerting it may be at times, will result in a far more peaceful world.

“This is the Day in which God’s most excellent favors have been poured out upon men, the Day in which His most mighty grace hath been infused into all created things. It is incumbent upon all the peoples of the world to reconcile their differences, and, with perfect unity and peace, abide beneath the shadow of the Tree of His care and loving-kindness. It behoveth them to cleave to whatsoever will, in this Day, be conducive to the exaltation of their stations, and to the promotion of their best interests. Happy are those whom the all-glorious Pen was moved to remember, and blessed are those men whose names, by virtue of Our inscrutable decree, We have preferred to conceal.
Beseech ye the one true God to grant that all men may be graciously assisted to fulfil that which is acceptable in Our sight. Soon will the present-day order be rolled up, and a new one spread out in its stead. Verily, thy Lord speaketh the truth, and is the Knower of things unseen.”- Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, page 346.

Incorrect

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Posted by on in collaborating, Entertainment, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 12, 2022- Gilbert Gottfried died today, at age 67. His was a classic New York voice, brash and direct, thinly masking a huge heart that cared for many of the same people he was “trashing”. My encounters with his work were relatively few: There was Iago the Parrot, in the animated “Aladdin” movies of the 1990s; an occasional Groucho Marx or Jerry Seinfeld imitation, on a talk show seen in a doctor’s office waiting room and there were his appearances on various celebrity roasts-each mirroring the work of his role model and mentor: Don Rickles (who he also would tear apart, on certain routines). The word is, Gilbert could take it as well as dish it out, in the Noo Yawk style. There is no one left who is quite like him, on the stage of comedy. He traded in political “incorrectness”, to remind us all that no one is perfect.

I have personally evolved into maintaining a modicum of “political correctness”, primarily out of common courtesy. Certain words, especially racial or gender epithets, have never been in my repertoire; others, when I felt forced by peers, in young adulthood, came chokingly out of my mouth-in private conversation. I felt sick afterwards, and those pejoratives were soon gone from my very consciousness. Then again, my sense of humour is dry, situational. I would not be one who could pack the house-or clear it, when deemed necessary. Gilbert Gottfried could do both.

For most of us, the ebb and flow of courtesy towards others is a balancing act-between offering the respect that human beings inherently deserve and the admonitions that are frequently needed. It helps to be generally nonjudgmental, as well as to have the moral compass that offers judgement when it serves a purpose.

Gilbert Gottfried lived by making that distinction.

On Not Being Invisible

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 11, 2022- Dr. Carlos Montezuma was a Yavapai, literally sold, as a boy, to an Italian photographer, for 30 pieces of silver, by his Akimel O’odham captors, in October, 1871. Named Wassaja (“Beckoning”), by his parents, he was renamed by his adoptive father, Carlos Gentile, as Carlos Montezuma. He grew up to fully avail himself of formal education, becoming the second Indigenous person to earn a medical degree, after Susan Picotte. Carlos Montezuma invented several medical procedures and devices, for which he never has received official credit. In fact, even mentioning those in print would likely get me in trouble for “copyright violation”.

One thing that Carlos Montezuma did get accredited to his name was founding the Society of American Indians, giving voice to First Nations people, long before the American Indian Movement took it up another notch, in the 1970s. Thanks to Carlos, the road to visibility became clear to the people who were here, long before Columbus, or the Vikings. No one today can say, with a straight face, that they are unaware of our twin continents’ original inhabitants and at least some of what they accomplished.

I say this, because there are still many, across ethnic groups, age categories, genders, who are treated as invisible. One of the things I notice about reaction to my blog is that those posts which give credit or recognition to specific people in marginalized roles are also those posts which get the least acknowledgement. Human nature trends towards the “golden rule of power”: “He who has the gold, makes the rules.” In following this trend, the readers who choose to ignore the “uninteresting” characters, say much about themselves and their own self-concept.

The fact is, though, my friends, each of us has a point of interest about oneself. I learn much from the barristas, the janitors, the bussers, the homeless and the random little kid who wanders about, looking for his family. No one gets to be invisible, in the long run.

Not A Death Sentence

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

April 9, 2022- The lady, who looked to be in her early forties, was bemoaning the fact that twentysomethings looked to her like babies. “I’m olllddd!“, she said to her dance partner, who is in his early sixties, and to me, who promptly told her she hasn’t seen old.

George Foreman famously said that forty is not a death sentence. He is two years my senior, and I would not be surprised if he were to add, “and neither is seventy!” I do not feel any worse for the wear, after a long and sometimes taxing jaunt across the southern part of the country. I feel no worse than I have in times past. Mother, a nonagenarian; my octogenarian aunts and older cousins; and a few older friends are all pushing the boundaries of what is elderly well past what we all thought of as old, even a dozen years ago. I chuckled to myself, appreciatively, a few days ago, when the manager of the motel where I stayed in San Antonio told the Uber driver, whom he was engaging to take me to the bus station, that I was an elderly gentleman. It’s a fine thing that people several decades younger will honour those my age, as I continue to honour my own elders.

On a related note, I sat down and did the math, relative to modes of transportation. The cost of a car rental, alone, far outweighs what I would have paid in gas and oil/lube, even at the inflated prices of the past few weeks, had I driven the Saturn. Time was the big factor in this journey just completed, which will not be the case in the still-potential trips of mid-June to mid-July and September-October. I will weigh several factors carefully, but my vehicle and I are joined at the hip. It was enjoyable to have driven a late model vehicle, with all the bells and whistles-food for thought, for the next car, when there is one. (It’ll be an EV, at any rate.)

Today was a full day, with an online gathering and two in-person events. I was told by a few people to rest today, and I did get in a nap this afternoon. Being with the three groups of friends was energizing, though. This evening, at Raven Cafe, was also rejuvenating. It was there that the above-mentioned woman made her plaint. As long as there is music and camaraderie, though, life is good.

And So They Are Ever Present

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 8, 2022, Phoenix- The bus continued, through the back country of west central Texas-the Permian Basin oil towns, the re-awakening desert town of Van Horn, effervescent El Paso, through southern New Mexico, Tucson and on up to this metropolis.

It seems, in more places than not, I encounter souls who make me feel that my life is something out of Canterbury Tales. There are recurring archetypes: The athletic blonde woman who is there to show me health and fitness tips; the young woman with long brown hair, who watches me from a short distance and seems always to be right in front or behind me in a line, not always saying much, but ever concerned with my safety and well-being; the group of Black or Latino men, usually in threes or fours, who look at me as “Uncle G” and are there for my protection; the children who approach me, with their parents’ approval and tell me of things that are of great importance. All of these people have been there on this journey as well. They don’t always introduce themselves, but there is this sense that we’ve seen one another before. They were all on either the train or on this bus, which I have just exited-for the short hop over to Sky Harbor, where I will catch the shuttle that will bring me up to Prescott, and Home Base.

Yes, it is almost as if I have crew around me. There are some of the above-mentioned prototypes, right there in Prescott as well. Ha! I see that one of my team from there was in New Orleans, right at the same time I was there. You have to love this little ball bearing we’re on.

Always A Fiesta

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 7, 2022, Abilene, TX- The tiny dancer showed me all of her gymnastic moves-including the one where she “split in two”. That, of course, was the split, a mainstay of young girls’ gymnastic shows, as far back as I can remember. She and her mother were going to San Antonio, to take part in Fiesta, the city’s signature event, since 1891. It started on March 31 and will end on April 10. They showed me their fiesta gowns, as elaborate as any Quinceanera or bridal attire.

The comely Ukrainian woman and her lively daughter also taught me a good series of stretches, to go along with the calf stretches and twists that I customarily do, after a long period of sitting. N is a free spirit, who regularly travels with her daughter, whom she home schools, across the southern tier, from their home in New Orleans to San Antonio, Tucson and Atlanta.

The Fiesta now in its last days is an apt description of their lives, and may it remain so, as long as the world does not encroach too much. I know N is worried, frightened, about the events in her homeland. She has family there, and while they reassure her that the Russian occupiers of her home area are not destroying the place, reports from the ground tell a far more harrowing story.

I meet people like N, wherever I find myself-including at Home Base Prescott. Being of an open mind is in itself a magnet for the quirky, the unusual, but most of all for the truly beautiful in spirit. I am not sure what category I would put the forty-something cross-dressing man, clad in pink dress and red slippers, with a red sash tied around the waist. His beard indicates an interest in having a certain take on the best of both worlds. He seems a gentle soul, forlorn by the decrepit state of the restroom in the 7-11 where we stopped, here in this resurgent former cow town, that is showing signs of being a far exurbia to Dallas-Fort Worth. The clerk, an adult in his early twenties, is nonplussed by his flamboyant fellow citizen-almost in an “every town has one” manner.

There surely are different forms of Fiesta. In the meantime, the bus ride that replaced a ride on the Sunset Train, goes on into the wee hours of tomorrow.

The Chain and the Dominoes

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

April 6, 2022, Houston- The message came over the loudspeaker: “Folks, we are waiting here (6 miles west of Lake Charles, LA), until a freight train heading west (it was actually heading east), is able to pass.” The message came from the spirit world: “The train in question is loaded with flammable materials. It is being held up by a safety check of the cars.” As it happened, the process took one hour. An eastbound freight train passed us, we passed a sidelined westbound train, that was loaded with about thirty-five flammable tanks and cars. This gargantuan city would take another two hours and thirty minutes to reach, from our perch between Lake Charles and Vinton.

Then came the real game changer: On Sunday, April 2, a rail bridge near Dryden, in the Trans-Pecos region of West Texas, caught fire, for the second time this year. All Amtrak passengers would have to disembark in San Antonio. Two of my car mates opted to fly from Houston. I have a commitment, call it what you will, to staying on the ground, this trip. So, a quick phone call secured a room for yours truly at Alamo Inn, San Antonio. I will be in one of my favourite Texas cities, for however many hours are left before check-out. Thus shall a day that has revealed both the interconnectedness of us all, and the fragility of that connection, have played out.

The day started nicely enough, with a shower, good coffee and a quiet hour or so of reflection, at The Quisby Hotel, another welcoming hostel-in a chain of safe havens that I have been fortunate to locate, over the past four years. The Quisby is in New Orleans’ Garden District, across a busy freeway from the Big Easy’s AMTRAK station. I will most certainly seek a place there, whenever my route takes me through NOLA.

A kind and honest driver came to get me at the appointed time. I was assigned a seat on Car # 2, we got underway on time and were efficiently headed west-until the debate at AMTRAK headquarters, as to how to handle our train, in light of the bridge fire, was resolved. A plan was announced to offer each of us a ride back to our place of embarkation (for me, that was New Orleans, and I already knew that the Quisby was going to be full, this evening. Besides, I have commitments in Prescott, this weekend. I will take a bus, if necessary.

The other chain of dominoes that is ever more tightly-connected is with my Baha’i study groups. As I remarked to members of one such group, we will be ever more engaged in threading the needles of various individual and collective needs, in the days and months ahead.

It will be late, very late, when we get to San Antonio, but I know it will be alright.

Through A Water Wonderland

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

April 5, 2022, Meridian, MS-

Peachtree Amtrak Station, Atlanta

The train pulled out of Peachtree Station, nearly an hour behind schedule. We have made progress, by fits and starts, along the way towards New Orleans. Now, we are leaving the commercial hub of eastern Mississippi. This is where the Atlanta crew got off and a crew that will be with us, until New Orleans, has come on.

The journey from Atlanta was through rain, until we got to Birmingham.

Downtown Birmingham, AL

Since then, the skies have been clear and the ground has been wet. Wetlands and rivers abound, through the central swath of Alabama and Mississippi. The Black Warrior and Tombigbee are particularly dominant. The former (below) has been made into a series of reservoirs.

Black Warrior River, near Tuscaloosa, AL

Ms. Blackstone, sitting across from me, put the whole concept of why some of us go on journeys into perspective-and one that fits nicely with the conversation I had with my brother, Dave, last night. In her view, each of us who goes out each day, whether close to home or further afield, is on assignment from the Holy Spirit. This helps explain the seeming randomness of some of the events that take place-who we meet, where we meet them and the tenor of our interactions. It also explains both the pleasant and less than pleasant events that happen, and the lessons drawn from each. It also gives me an affirmation that I am on the right course in this life.

In a few short days, I will be back at Home Base, with a full slate of “assignments” from the Creator of us all. I wish Ms. Blackstone well, in her daily work and am certain that, despite the dark clouds that encircle so much of humanity, the forces of division and darkness that prey on the fears of so many will fall short in their efforts to ensnare the human race.

Through downpours, tornadoes, bombs and bombast, stay strong.