Relevant

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May 26, 2019, Phoenix-

With tomorrow being rather a full day of honouring the departed, back in Prescott, I made this afternoon a time to place flowers and spend some time at Penny’s grave site.  Although I feel her presence constantly, and don’t crowd her spirit life with constant thoughts of what might have been, it is still the mark of a human being to honour loved ones who have gone on.

I’ve thought further about my latest ruminations on friendship.  Each and every one I call friend has at least one particular relevance in my life, and several have more.  Whether a person is primarily a friend-in-Faith, has a role in my health regimen (including the person I met yesterday), is an intellectual match or is tied to me through social networks, alone, each is someone who is of value.

I am past the thrashing about, that seemed to take shallow root, in the two years after Penny passed.  I am not going to follow  third-party hints about pursuing a relationship with someone, when that person herself is not the one dropping those hints.  That, to me, is borderline harassment.

Where I am now is finding my way forward, and keeping my ties to each of my friends based on mutual respect and nurturance.  Whether I see a friend almost every day, once in a while, once a year, or only contact online-the principle is the same.  You have my heart.

 

 

Camaraderie

8

May 25, 2019-

I have, very recently, met someone who has hit me like a ton of bricks, and much in the way Penny did.  I have no idea how this friendship will go, but it is bound to be one of substance.

For the past eight years or so, I have, to outward seeming, gone at times from pillar to post with my meanderings and efforts at working day jobs.  This is who I am, though, and my purpose remains to be a friend to as many who cross my path, as do not mean either me, or the world, harm.

I used to be a loner.  Penny changed all that- and even when it was the two of us, quietly reading or thinking, in our own spaces, I was no longer just one living for myself.  Since she passed, I have been aware that, if I ever reverted to loner-hood, she’d come back and haunt me.  Thus, there is the sense of belonging to a community that’s bigger; to groups that have an aim.

I have ties, camaraderie, with so many communities, it’s hard to pin down to one place.  That remains a good part of me, and so:

Prescott- Here, I have become grounded, made an effort at being part of a day-to-day community and have established many friendships-with people across the political and social spectra, who, in their own words, might not be able to stand being in the same room with each other.  While that’s sad, it is the human condition. I’ve been doing this sort of networking since high school, though, so it is second nature.

Phoenix- It’s no secret that this city, this sometimes choking environment, nearly buried me.  That is as much present in the circumstances of my time lived here, being a caregiver, especially for a loved one, is both labour of love and slow asphyxiation.  She often said she couldn’t wait to “be out of my way”, though to my mind, it could have gone on forever-until leaving was what was best for her.

I love the desert mountains, which the city has had the foresight to keep out of the harm’s way of uber-development (Prescott, take note:  You have no idea how close you are to losing the very places which make you special.) I also love the people who stayed close to me, when the feckless around us were seeking to quarantine my wife and me.

Arizona- You took me in, when I was still very much a mess.  Flagstaff, Superior, Casa Grande, Cochise County, the White Mountain region, Kingman-and the eternally blessed Dineh and Hopi Nations all have given me friendships that will draw this one back, time and again.  Tucson, for reasons both long-standing, and yet to pan out, is a special draw.

The West- California, in the words of Debbie Boone, will “keep calling me home.”  The beaches, the expanse of Mojave and Imperial Deserts, the Coast Ranges, LA, San Diego, Santa Barbara, the Bay Area-and the Sierra Nevada underscore my ongoing friendships, which will remain.  Nevada, Colorado, Utah- your treating me like family will only be an ongoing comfort and draw this one back time and again.

The same hold true, for those in my heart in the Northwest, Alaska, the Midwest, Northeast, South, Canada, Korea and western Europe.  I cannot see myself staying apart from any of you, my friends and family, in perpetuity. Nor, for that matter, do I wish to preclude time with those friends in places yet unvisited:  The rest of Europe, the Pacific Rim, South, West and Central Asia, Africa and the rest of the Americas.

Time will tell whether my solo wanderlust, or this newfound friendship, sets the parameters of  the future.  It is a comforting place to be.

 

Power

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May 23, 2019-

While I was exercising, this afternoon, a former student happened by the exercise room, accompanied by a couple of friends.  The three stood nearby and watched me, out of the corners of their eyes, whilst having an animated conversation.  This student impressed me, over the past two years, as one who has a wealth of personal power and has learned, early in life, how to nurture and exercise those strengths-physical,intellectual and interpersonal.

I’ve been thinking a fair amount, about the exercise of power, over the past few days.  Knowing what power actually is, helps greatly  in that exercise.  Some regard power as the ability to outshout, to cut other people off, to be “large and in charge”.  I see this in various levels of government, in the press and on broadcast media.  Some exercise their power by seeking to exclude others from work, from social events and even from living in a community.  Still others try to legislate or shame people who aren’t living in a manner they see fit, from doing what they regard as abominable or distasteful.

While this last is a  laudable response to crimes against children, vulnerable adults or animals, or to actions causing environmental havoc, it has been carried too far when it comes to prescribing what a person should or should not do with his/her own body.  In a nutshell, regarding the abortion issue and the childcare issue overall, I stand foursquare in favour of adoption/community parenting-and a much more rigourous set of standards for foster parenting, as well.  Those are topics for other posts, though.

Power comes from inside oneself.  It can, temporarily, be augmented by the use of a weapon, by obfuscation and sandbagging, or by outright lying.  Those, however, are bandaids- and we know that bandaids must be changed, daily, lest infection set in.

Power comes from within, and must be brought to account, each day.  It must be nurtured, through prayer and meditation.  It must be strengthened through mindfulness.  It must recognize the Source of all power.   It cannot be ascribed to others.  They, our parents, our elders, our steadfast friends, our leaders, our teachers can only nurture what is already present within each of us.  It is up to the individual to exercise and maintain her/his power.

Ten Years Out

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May 21, 2019-

The title is one of the exercises that a person either starting out, or in mid-career, is often asked by Life Coaches and Mentors to undergo.  “Where will you be, ten years from now?”  The purpose, as I understand it, is to encourage long-term goal setting that is relatively specific, and demonstrates a knowledge of trends.

I have, after finishing reading of my brother, Dave’s, book, gone through a “Ten Years Out”, of sorts.  There will, no doubt, be a mix of adventure and normalcy, or maybe the two combined on a day-to-day basis.  Looking at my 78 1/2 year-old-self reminds me to keep up with my current health regimen, and in some respects I may need to double down on certain elements of said regimen.  I certainly hope to still be hiking then, and being able to exercise regularly.

I allow for the role of grandparent, for volunteering and/or part-time employment in whichever community I find myself.  I allow for service to my Faith and for travel, both nationally and internationally, though much of that will have been achieved (God-willing), by the time my Diamond Jubilee (75) rolls around.

I realize that, at this age, some may find a “Ten Years Out” a bit presumptuous.  All I can say to that is, while it’s true, to some extent, that “Man plans and God laughs”, it is useful to have a framework- and if that framework needs to be adjusted in the face of reality, then changes can be made as needed.

A lot of this may sound similar to previous posts that discuss plans.  I guess that makes me fairly consistent.  As long as I’m useful, though, it’s all good.

Cyclopian Vision

8

May 18, 2019-

I see four in front of me,

each bent on talking, and not listening.

You tell us that there is only one way to look at issues-yours.

You see “the others” as unholy threats to our way of life.

You call out anyone who has an alternative point of view,

and call them names,

as if we are in an overcrowded sandbox,

which you feel you own.

You told me that I was the only problem,

in a very fluid work environment.

You said that if I left,

all would be well.

While I would be okay with that,

the reality is more complex.

You cast about for answers,

yet only accept those which fit

your  line of sight.

You offer your viewpoint,

and dismiss all others,

as antiquated,

as throwbacks,

without regard

for the notion

that all life is sacred.

You say that Government

is the supreme answer

to all,

and that abusers have rights,

which supersede

the rights

of the victim.

You say unborn people

have few or no rights,

whilst your opposite number

says that is only

true, of mothers.

I see four cyclops

in the sandbox,

in front of me.

I hear babbling,

too loud for anyone

to actually hear

the solutions.

 

 

Obliqueness

8

May 16, 2019-

Just some random thoughts, on a blustery but otherwise laid back day:

  1. I contacted my employer, and found there is one person doing the work of three.  Sound familiar?
  2. May is seeming more like March, around here.  Higher elevations in the Rockies may get snow, over the next few days.
  3. I would weigh in on Game of Thrones, but-a) I’m still watching Season 7; b) The outpouring of dissatisfaction is a perfect distraction from real-time events; c) The outcome is not subject to popular opinion.
  4.  No sooner did I wonder what on Earth I was doing here, than three different projects presented themselves.
  5. One of those projects involves an All-in-One Printer.  Guess what has gone kaput and needs replacing?
  6. I’ve said it a few times:  I count many different people, all ages, ethnicities, creeds, orientations and body types, as friends.  That stands, because it’s who I am.  If you are kind, considerate and honest, I am your friend.
  7. Romantic interest, though, is my private domain and no, I won’t “consider all the possibilities”.  Nor will I intrude on anyone else’s business, in that regard.  We are each entitled to our own preferences, and I am drawn, in that way, to some women, but not to others.  I guess that makes me neurotypical, in that respect.  I don’t think it makes me mean.
  8.   No offense is intended, in any of the above remarks.
  9. Life is sacred.  Consider the safety and well-being of others.  These two statements are not contradictory.
  10. The planet and its parts, including living parts, deserve to be honoured.  It’s possible to make a living and still be honourable.  Let’s figure this out, together.

Destiny and Metamorphosis

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May 13, 2019-

A dear friend posted, on another media site, that we are ever in a state of metamorphosis.  This has nothing to do with the shape-shifting that was all the rage, on television and in film, as recently as two years ago (“Game of Thrones”, “Power Rangers”, etc.)  Metamorphosis is best-seen in terms of growth.

I have also read quite a bit, elsewhere, on narcissism.  I once had a touch of that affliction.  My mother never let that horse out of the gate.  She told us that one who regards self as above reproach is dead in the water.

That’s true beyond doubt.  In the course of dividing up the contents of a bin, I re-read some old papers from my administrative and college-teaching days.  One, invaluable, summary of my students’ evaluation of a rather paltry teaching effort, in 2009, pointed out that I trended towards hidebound monotony, complete with soft, unchanging voice, in presenting what should have been a vibrant, challenging course.

When I returned to teaching, after Penny’s passing, the presentation became more vigorous and engaged.  The old dog had to master new tricks.

Likewise, in younger years, my disciplinary tactics included the bellow, and a harsher tone.  Being a full-time counselor “metamorphosed” my demeanor towards favouring my empathic side, and the hardness of my teacher training went out the window.  I have kept that empathy, yet have also learned to employ a modicum of taking people to task, when that appears necessary, though without being rough or demeaning.

Nowadays, my life-change continues. I am in the process of giving many of my professional materials to others.  Work, as I have known it for the past forty-three years, has a light at the end of its tunnel:  One and a half years remain, until my focus becomes largely travel-journalism and Work Away-based, with a healthy mix of family, perhaps even grandparenthood.  There may be some money, in the former, but I am not worried about that.

My destiny, it seems, has always been to go forward, to build bridges and to not be held to anyone else’s notions of success-no matter how well-meaning those may be.  This may require a few more positive life-changes.

 

The Genesis Spirit

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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

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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

7

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.