The Genesis Spirit

4

May 12, 2019-

I only had one call to make, this morning.  Mom is still very much alive and well.  Mother-in-Law is by her eldest daughter’s side, in the spirit world.  I know they still have my back, though their plans for me are somewhat hidden, at this point in time.

I don’t so much fret over my present state of affairs, as wonder where it is leading.  It could be that, tomorrow, when I contact the County Office of Education, I will be told to re-do this or that process or be told simply that everything is in order on my end, but that they need more time to finish the red tape.  Regardless, the academic year is almost over.  The needs of summer will shortly be upon me.

Enough of my quotidia, though.  This is a day, beyond Hallmark cards and the floral industry, for fully recognizing the spirit of nurturance, the raising of generations.  The vast majority of women who give birth are nurturers. There are always exceptions, outliers, who are not fit for the greatest and most honourable job in the human world.  I read of one such benighted soul, earlier this morning.  Most mothers, though, take the ball and run with it-to the eternal benefit of their progeny, or of those whom they take in as their own.

My mother has taken, and still takes, her responsibility as a nurturer seriously.  That spirit has flowed, seamlessly, to her daughter and granddaughters. It has informed the choices of mate that my brothers and I have made-Penny and each of my sisters-in-law raised their children in a sea of discipline and love.  It continues with our children’s generation. Aram and four of his male cousins have each married strong, nurturing women.

It can’t be easy, this balancing of body and soul; this overcoming the intense pain of bringing a newborn into the world of contingency.  It is certainly troubling, to sometimes feel one’s efforts are overlooked, cast aside or unappreciated, until it is often too late.  In my case, I have sometimes felt that I have had to make up for lost time, with the most important people in my life.

That, though, brings out the true beauty of  the genesis spirit:  The power of forgiveness; the strength of forbearance; the ability to get an errant child to take ownership of destiny.  A true mother does the heavy lifting of nurturance, gets a father to buy into the process and sends a child into the wider world, with the assurance that-one’s foibles and weaknesses aside, there will be success against a backdrop of trials and setbacks.  It  will be so, because of the firm foundation of love.

The Shortest Distance, and The Longest

2

May 5, 2019-

“Civilization is precisely the human capacity to say no…….”- Rob Riemen, To Fight Against This Age

Viewing the film “Room”, this evening, I prepared myself for a variety of possible outcomes, none of them good.  Having worked for so long in child protection and recovery from abuse, I know the permutations that such cases can take.  I know that attorneys for the abuser will sometimes do their job all too well, and the cycle will repeat itself, ad nauseam.  I know that sometimes, the good guys win, and people like Erica Pratt, Jaycee Dugard and Elizabeth Smart go on to achieve at least a fair amount of normalcy and success, on their own terms.  I’ve seen a mix of the two outcomes, with identity mix-up and role confusion, only resolvable with the maximum amount of patience and sensitivity.

In a complex world, where everyone gets to jump in and have a say, many times with an agenda that has nothing to do with the recovering child, the cases can take  a long sideways route, often twisting like a corkscrew, until nothing is left.  In these cases, money is made, but no one wins.  Fame is achieved, sometimes for people who had nothing to do with the original case-and sometimes for those who did, but who have moved on, past the reality of the victim.

It’s been long enough, since the film was in theaters, that I can applaud how the story panned out.  “Jack” used native intelligence and common sense to save his mother twice- first from their captor, then from herself.  “Joy”, the mother, did well to keep both of them alive, and to recover, from both abandonment by her father and a misguided barrage of criticism from a sensation-seeking journalist.  The film is thus a cautionary tale, for several sectors of society.

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.  “Jack” was young enough to use that logic, in describing his former place of captivity to the police, and in avoiding the long, twisting, jagged-edged road to recovery faced by his mother.

I like to think that I prefer taking the short route, in my own life, but time has proven that sometimes, the long route has ended up being chosen.

Hard-Wired

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May 4, 2019-

Today has certainly been a splendid day.  I never feel more alive than when I am strolling the Prescott Farmers’ Market, learning new things about the produce that ever abounds here, and the advances in Earth-friendly natural solutions to our environmental bug bears.  For example, today I was introduced to Soap Nuts, a lavender-based, eco-friendly laundry product, which may be re-used as many as eight times.  See http://www.heddaskincare.com, for more information on this unique product.

I was able to pass, to another person, a mattress that had been sitting, unused, in my apartment, for the past five years.  Needless to say, I have given myself the gift of more space and will continue this process, over the next few weeks.  Lastly, I completed the online documents needed for my new work assignment.

I am hard-wired- to love other human beings, to forgive all but the most egregious and willful assaults on my character.  I am hard-wired, to not anchor myself to any one place too long; instead, to want the very best for every soul I meet-even if that best requires my absence from their lives or their absence from mine.

I am hard-wired to be proactive, in solving issues; to share what I have, sometimes down to the nub.  I am hard-wired to regard no matter as being intractable, to regard even the slowest of progress, as forward motion, nonetheless.

I am hard-wired to neither be discomfited by crowds, nor by isolation.  I am good, with huge numbers of people,  or none at all.  I am hard-wired to look past a person’s outer shell, no matter how ungainly or repellent he or she wants us to believe is the case.  There is good, detectable in most, and definitely present in all-even to the extent of a “grain of a mustard seed.”.

I am hard-wired to cherish life.

 

Ever-Advancing

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May 2, 2019-

Here’s what I’ve experienced,

over nearly seven decades.

For every person who has left my side,

five more have appeared.

For every person who has stuck his foot out,

so as to trip me up,

ten pairs of hands have broken my fall.

For every voice of doom,

there have been a dozen angels,

singing of hope and gladness.

For each act of destruction,

a host of projects,

glistening with resilience,

have sallied forth.

In each person,

who bristles outwardly with hate,

I see a small shining star,

struggling to get out,

and so dissipate,

the outer darkness.

In each act of destruction,

there is the seed of recovery,

that will burst forth,

given its nourishment.

One hundred fifty-six years ago, today,

the Light of the World,

set forth, once again,

to bring hope and strength,

to creatures that their Creator

loves so well.

Through all the darkness,

into the light,

we, of humanity,

are ever-advancing.

(Today is the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, commemorating Baha’u’llah’s departure from Baghdad, together with his family and closest followers, for the north of Iraq and on into Turkey.)

 

Seventeen Analogies

2

May 1, 2019-

Baha’u’llah ends his advice to the reader of the Tablet under discussion by listing seventeen analogies, which I repeat below.

“Be a home for the stranger, a balm to the suffering, a tower of strength for the fugitive. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be an ornament to the countenance of truth, a crown to the brow of fidelity, a pillar of the temple of righteousness, a breath of life to the body of mankind, an ensign of the hosts of justice, a luminary above the horizon of virtue, a dew to the soil of the human heart, an ark on the ocean of knowledge, a sun in the heaven of bounty, a gem on the diadem of wisdom, a shining light in the firmament of thy generation, a fruit upon the tree of humility.”

In physical terms, my current Home Base is a tiny spot, though big enough to offer 3-4 other people space to sleep.  Yet, I like it when people feel at home in my presence.  I work to relieve suffering, in both physical and social terms.  It is always best when  errant people can stop running, on their own.  I have walked with them, and tried to guide, using whatever time is needed.  Being a pillar of the temple of righteousness, the name of my blogsite aside, is more problematic.  We have all had feet of clay at times. I will own mine, and certainly have either been sent, or have sought after, people who will take me to task for them.  Truth, even by, or especially by, admission, is part of what Baha’u’llah calls “spotless purity”- a goal He has set for each of us to pursue, in the course of our spiritual development.  Inculcating wisdom, the valuing of knowledge, the maintenance of humility in a boastful society, each serve to invigorate not only one’s spirit, but the collective spirit of one’s generation.

So, as Ridvan draws to an end, with tomorrow’s commemoration of the Beloved’s departure from that sanctified garden, and His long overland journey to what is now Istanbul, I take stock of all the ways in which advancement, in these virtues He offered us, as divine gifts, is being manifested and the still further way that I have to go, in that regard.

I have learned, since last Ridvan, that even when life does not roll out in a tight plan, it has the most exquisite of offerings to place at one’s feet.  I sense it will be thus, in the next twelve months.

Meeting Needs of Self and Others

5

April 30, 2019-

I spent a few hours, this morning, with a small group of people whose world view is something of a throwback to the time when Big Band music was de rigeur and good manners were the bedrock of society.  They are finding it hard to deal with the unraveling of society, viewing liberalism as the cause.  In my view, it is simply one reaction to the upheavals, rather than being causative.

Yesterday, I introduced Baha’u’llah’s prescription for the individual.  Today, let us look at sentences 5-8, of the Tablet:  “Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be unjust to no man, and show all meekness to all men. Be as a lamp unto them that walk in darkness, a joy to the sorrowful, a sea for the thirsty, a haven for the distressed, an upholder and defender of the victim of oppression. Let integrity and uprightness distinguish all thine acts.”

The people to whom I refer above would strike some as antiquated in their views.  As many of you know, I associate with many types of people, across the political spectrum and of all ethnicities and Faith groups.  Being fair in judgment so often requires one to hold the tongue- so being guarded in speech is a very critical trait, one on which I had to work very hard.  It does not mean suffering calumnies against other groups or rosily accepting what ever comes out of the person’s mouth, without challenge.  Nonetheless, a person does not do well to “shoot his mouth off.”  Justice shown to one man should not preclude justice to others.  Such would be a false justice.  Meekness- that is something of which I have often been accused.  So, it’s ironic that not being meek was cited as the grounds for my recent change in employment status.  No one can claim perfection.     I do, however, strive for humility, in my dealings with others.

Comfort and defense, both to myself and to those around me, have indeed been primary goals, and these make sentence #7:  “Be as  a lamp unto them that walk in darkness……..”, that much more cogent, the last clause being the driving force behind my having become a counselor and child advocate.  Integrity has been huge; so that even when I have failed in the matter of uprightness, the ownership of those failures has had to be indelible.

So onward I go; forward we all go.  Even when change is difficult to face, let us apply those values we hold dearest, to the resolution of the challenges we face, such as we will ever face.

Victim

17

April 27, 2018-

I have not, in real terms, ever been a victim. Yes, I have had an old laptop stolen from me. As I was the only one who could get it to work, chances are it is in the pile of useless electronics. Yes, someone pilfered a U.S. Passport, only to be himself caught, sometime later.

I have not ever been a victim.  Difficulties, stemming from misdirected choices, slow reactions to swiftly changing circumstances and excess trust of incompetent people are not grounds for crying “Poor me”.  I have been a slow learner.  I have placed trust in those who didn’t deserve it.  That is not victim-hood.

I am, instead, far more concerned with those who ARE victims: Children and teens who are put into one form, or another, of servitude-sometimes, even by their own parents;  adults, usually-but not always, women who are promised gainful employment, but instead are turned into slaves, living in brutal conditions; seniors, living in filthy conditions, and mentally unable to call attention to their plight; members of religious or ethnic minority groups, demonized by powerful interests in their own countries.

There will be a time, in the not-too-distant future, when my time, whether traveling, or in a Home Base, somewhere, will be spent primarily in voluntary service.  Then will my focus not be on keeping a roof over my head, but on keeping the vulnerable, wherever, I find them, out of harm’s way.

I am keeping my eyes open, in this relatively peaceful community, until the day that I move on,  and it’s true that there will be plenty of  opportunities to help others-not those with signs or outstretched hands, begging for cash, but people who are being genuinely mistreated, beyond their ability to fight back.

I will remain, not a victim.

 

 

The Ties That Bind

5

April 25, 2019-

I spent Tuesday honouring a longtime friend, who had passed on about ten days earlier.  As many of you know, Penny, Aram and I lived for seven years, on the Navajo Nation, working and living life among the Dineh and Hopi people.  Previous to that, Penny and I spent our first years as a couple in another Navajo community, where we similarly enjoyed life with both nations.

Dinnebito is a small, isolated Dineh community, between the two areas where we lived.  It was, at the time we lived there, included in a disputed land area- and the people found themselves hogtied, I daresay, by a Federally-mandated freeze on any improvements to land or property.  That merciless, unnecessary interference in relations between Dineh and Hopi has now gone away.  The pain it caused, however, has left a lasting scar in the lives of many.  That’s the way it is, with “Divide and conquer”.

I have friends, people I regard as family, in both nations.  One of them was KJ Manybeads, in whose honour I prayed and whose remains I helped inter on Tuesday.  John’s family welcomed me, at the service and afterwards, as we celebrated his life, the way we celebrated so many things in the years gone by- gathering at long tables or around in a circle of chairs, primarily outside.

When I drove back to Prescott, Tuesday evening, I took the long way around, driving on a back road, from the Hopi tribal seat, Kykotsmovi, to the Dineh town of Leupp. It gave me a long time, to recall what blessings and timeless character lessons are afforded those who honour the First Nations.  Yes, indigenous people are just humans, but those who are deeply connected to the Earth, to all Creation, have much to offer the wider community.

When I reconnected with “the world”, on Tuesday evening, I found time conflicts were causing me problems I had not fully processed.  That brought me to these conclusions:

  1.  In scheduling myself, while at Home Base, here on out, the priorities will be- a. Faith Community; b. this immediate area (Prescott and Yavapai County); c. everyplace else.
  2.  If it is someone’s sincere understanding that I have promised my time and energy, I will honour that, (even if I did not, in fact, make that promise),  for the sake of unity.

That  has been my standard, more or less, all along, and it just needed to be refreshed.

 

 

 

 

Ms. Colter’s Long View

2

April 22,2019, Grand Canyon National Park-

No visit to this most spectacular of Mother Nature’s North American wonders is complete, without due honour being paid to the incomparable figure of Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter.  One of the few female architects of her time, Ms. Colter was a driving force in the building of structures that well served the U.S. National Park Service, the Santa Fe Railroad and the Fred Harvey Company-which was a major concessionaire to both entities.  Her buildings have withstood the test of time and uniformly add luster to the communities in which they are, or were, found:  Winslow, AZ (La Posada Hotel), Harvey House (now Imperial Western Beer Company), in Los Angeles’ Union Station, La Fonda Hotel, in Santa Fe and the majestic, but now defunct, El Navajo Hotel, in Gallup, NM.

Mary Elizabeth’s most enduring body of work, now listed as a National Historic District, lies in the magnificent buildings which she designed and built, along the Grand Canyon’s South Rim and at the bottom of the Canyon itself.  These include Bright Angel Lodge (in which Penny and I stayed, in 1983); Hopi House,Hermit’s Rest and the arresting Desert View Watchtower.

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There are cracks and breaks actually included in Ms. Colter’s design.  She also placed a seemingly demolished brick wall, on the Tower’s south side- perhaps as a wind break.

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The views from each level of the Tower are second to none. Below is a view of Venus Temple.

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The area west of Desert View constitutes the Inner Gorge of the Grand Canyon, and features many of the “Eastern” and “Egyptian” formations, named for Indian and Egyptian mystical figures.  The Colorado River itself, though, is never far from focus.

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For that matter, neither is the North Rim, which will be the focus of a second Grand Canyon visit, in late summer, in this year of the Park’s centenary.

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Temple Butte, seen below, marks the eastern end of the Canyon’s rim.  From that point, eastward, lie the Navajo Nation and the Painted Desert, itself a defining feature of the Little Colorado/Puerco River Basin.

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The interior of the Watchtower is no less captivating. Ms. Colter was enthralled from childhood with Native American art and lore, starting with Lakota Sioux drawings which she obtained from a friend, whilst living in St. Paul.  After goong to work fro Fred Harvey Company, that interest quickly extended to the art of the Dineh, Zuni and Hopi.

The panels below illustrate some Hopi spiritual concepts, painted by master artist Fred Kabotie, a key collaborator with Ms. Colter, in the course of her building decoration.

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These stairs were likely used by Mr. Kabotie, during his time as the Watchtower’s caretaker.  Now, they are a simple decoration.

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Animals being a major element of Hopi and Dineh culture, figurines have been carved and left in conspicuous places.

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So, too, are pictographs, drawn here by Fred Kabotie  and his associates, but found in many places in the Southwest-and around the globe, as remnants of  ancient cultures. Pictographs are drawn rock art, as opposed to petroglyphs, which are carved into the stone.

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The ceiling of the Watchtower is the one place where Ms. Colter let her associates run riot with colour painting.  The idea was to represent the fullness of the Universe.

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It is from the third floor of the Watchtower, that images such as this may be gleaned.

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From here, I headed a bit further west, to Navajo and Lipan Points, getting further perspective on the Inner Gorge. The formations in the foreground are of Redwall Limestone and Supai Group of sandstone deposits, from the Pennsylvanian Period (332.2-289.9 million years ago).  This scene is from Navajo Point.

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Redwall Limestone, (340 million years ago), is prominent, as the Canyon rises up to its Inner Gorge temples.

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Here is a zoomed view of the Watchtower, from Navajo Point.

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Also from Navajo Point, is a glimpse of what makes rafting the Colorado such an enticing experience for many.

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As I reached Lipan Point, I found this to be the last scene from my present SIM card on the Samsung.

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So, my trusty cellular was pressed into service.  Lipan Point, which juts headlong into the Inner Gorge, gives the area a compressed quality.  Don’t let the appearance of compactness deceive you.  The Inner Gorge is 18 miles across, at its widest point.

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Here one sees the Kaibab Formation, the present “top” of the Grand Canyon, at the North Rim. 22 miles from Lipan Point, as the condor flies.

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From Lipan, I drove into the forest a bit, for a look at Tusayan Ruin, a Pueblo II ( 900-1150) settlement which appears to have lasted well into the 13th Century, in the midst of Pueblo III cultures.

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Here is a communal gathering place, perhaps for spiritual activities.

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This  space appears to have served as an apartment for one of the larger families.

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The people who lived at Tusayan likely intermarried with those of the Pueblo III culture, who had moved into the area, from the northeast, towards the end of the 12th Century.

My daylong venture along the two great gorges of the Colorado River system came to an end, but not my appreciation for one of the finest talents, of the Twentieth Century,  in southwestern architecture.  Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter surely rates on par with Paolo Soleri and Frank Lloyd Wright, in terms of contribution to the public square.

 

Heavenly Flow

8

April 21, 2019-

Today brought me close to two faith traditions:  A musical, somewhat relaxed Evangelical Baptist service- which I attended at the invitation of a former co-worker.  I didn’t see her  there, but met up with another former colleague with the Red Cross.  After exchanging pleasantries, I took a seat in the congregation, while he took his place in the choir.  My part was to sing with the rest of those in the congregation, join in greeting those around me, and respond to an occasional call.  I only regret not raising my hand when the pastor asked who believes in the Christ. I do, certainly.  One cannot accept the Message of the Father and discard That of the Son.

At our Baha’i community’s gathering, this afternoon, I joined with about 45 fellows in Faith, to commemorate the first day of Baha’u’llah’s declaring His Mission, even as He and His companions prepared for a long journey overland, from Baghdad to what is now Istanbul.

The message is similar:  None of us is squeaky clean, and God alone can absolve us with Grace.   The sufferings of each Divine Messenger are what free us from our wrongdoings.  Only by acknowledging this, and not wanting to be distant from the Divine, does one progress spiritually.

So, that was my day of spiritual fellowship.  Connection with the Divine, though, is what has eased my path, even when I find myself alone.  In times of uncertainty, as to my course of action, I find my Spirit Guides provide a very clear framework, within which I must make informed choices.

This week, for example, will bring me to Flagstaff, then to the Desert View Tower, at the eastern end of Grand Canyon National Park- honouring the Centenary of that great national entity.  From there, it will be time to honour an old friend, who passed on, last week.  His services will be east of Tuba City, at another lovely locale:  Coal Mine Canyon.  Then, I must return here to Prescott, and look after my own health, with a lab test on Wednesday.   Matters of faith, possible acts of service with the Red Cross, another friend’s birthday party and a presentation by Slow Food-Prescott will fill out the week.

The flow of celestial energy is constant, and bears heeding.