The Road to Diamond, Day 33: It Wasn’t a Rainbow That Ended

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December 31, 2024- When I was around nine or ten, Fad would amuse us, on car trips, by going fast up a hill and over the crest, which would lead to an excited sensation on the way down. The roller coaster-like feeling was something that made my sister and I encourage him to keep doing it. He did, for a while, and then resumed being an adult, showing us that there is a time to be jovial and a time to be focused.

Life has been that way each year since. 2024 was a year of consummate gladness-My son finishing his baccalaureate studies and preparing to re-enter the work force; my being able to spend time with family in Massachusetts, Maine, Pennsylvania and Texas; visiting friends in California, Nevada, Texas, Illinois, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, British Columbia, Washington and Oregon; making new connections in St. Pierre & Miquelon and in each of the aforementioned places; and making deeper friendships in the Philippines.

There was a lot of loss this year, as well: My mother, our family’s rock for so many decades, rejoined her husband, parents, siblings and youngest son, marking an end to her physical chapter of 95 years, 9 months and 20 days. Three strong women of faith- Marcia Brehmer, Michele Smith and Lynne Elliott, also went back to their Lord, after doing their level best to teach their families and friends to love one another-and to love humanity, without exception. Four men- Joe Landrigan, Verne Rupright, Johnny Murphy and Lennie Maes, seminal figures from my youth, who served their country and went on to live lives of quiet distinction, answered their final call of duty. The nation, and the world, said goodbye to former U.S. President Jimmy Carter, to freedom fighter Alexei Navalny and to artists Donald Sutherland, Melanie Safka, Nikki Giovanni, James Earl Jones, Chita Rivera, Dame Maggie Smith, Kris Kristofferson, Toby Keith and Quincy Jones.

Our rainbows soared, and came back to their bases, this past year. I gained the ability to more firmly navigate these peaks and valleys, knowing that there is so much more to do, so many questions left to be answered and so many challenges that may yet arise. The year now ending has brought me strength.

Road to Diamond, Day 31: Perseverance

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December 29,2024- The world said its first farewell to former President James Earl Carter, Jr., as he winged his flight to paradise, earlier today. His legacy was one of perseverance and his singularity of purpose was in public service. He was a micromanager and did not believe that public office entitled anyone to perquisites. I got that impression on Inauguration Day, 1977, when the President-elect and his Secret Service contingent walked from Blair House to the Capitol, so that he could take his oath of office. Everyone who called on him for breakfast at the White House paid for their meals. He kept a tight rein on the White House Tennis Court.

Practices like those disturbed many in Washington, and in Federal agencies across the country. In retrospect, a lot of the “swamp” characterizations of recent years could have been obviated, had Mr. Carter’s more reasonable management practices been incorporated into the operation of the Executive Branch, and by extension, the Legislative and Judicial Branches. How slowly we learn!

The high water mark of Jimmy Carter’s life came after he left the White House, with his tireless efforts on behalf of global health improvements and his advocacy of Habitat for Humanity, now a major force in providing housing for the disadvantaged. At an age when most people shun the climbing of ladders, there was Jimmy, feet firmly planted on the sixth or seventh rung, nailing boards to fascia and eaves. He was meticulous, in going up and down the ladder, in building techniques-and in teaching Sunday School, which he did continuously into his early 90s.

I remember thinking that maybe he was oversharing, talking about “lusting for women in his heart”, though he never acted on those urges. It then occurred to me that he meant it when he said “I’ll never lie to you.” He was true to Rosalynn, his wife of 77 years. He was, by all accounts, a gentle but firm father. He was a tireless public servant.

The tributes paid to President Carter, from across the political spectrum and from across the globe, attest to that tirelessness and to that honesty. May his achievements be indelible in our nation’s history and may he rest in peace.

The Road to Diamond, Day 29: On Wanting More

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December 27, 2024- The famous scene, in “Oliver Twist”, where Oliver asks for an extra portion of food and is ridiculed by the overstuffed overseers at the orphanage, has frequently been quoted by both those who regard themselves as gatekeepers against greed and those who see society as a place where the needs of all should be met.

I see the requests for more time, more money, more personal attention as reflective of two things: Lack of transparency and lack of preparation. Communication, between businesses and insurers, is often incomplete-and as a result, the consumer is asked to pay what, at first blush, is an “add-on”. It isn’t, but what has happened is that there is rather rushed, or lackadaisical, dealing with the responsibility for meeting the total cost-of health care, automobile repair or replacement of lost or stolen household items.

Either the insurer’s representatives do not give the matter the time it takes to examine costs/reimbursements or the provider does not offer complete information, and has to backtrack, before sending out an invoice to the consumer, with little information other than-“You owe this extra amount.” Before payment is made, though, the consumer is bound to ask for further explanation. No one wants to look upon their health care provider(s) as greedy or as grifters.

Another area in which there is frequently a disconnect is in the scheduling of time. I have had people ask me for “30 minutes” or “an hour” of my time. If it is just between the two or three of us, that is usually kept on track. If there are more people involved, I prefer to request that the time frame be open-ended, or extended. The reason is simple: Afterthoughts, questions and answers, pregnant pauses followed by further expounding all come into play, and it is often unfair to the person(s) raising these, to insist on a cut-off, exactly at the broadcast end point.

This last came into focus this afternoon, when a simple reading of two paragraphs into a cellular microphone, in a sound-proof room, took nearly an hour-instead of the fifteen minutes that had been anticipated. The production manager simply wanted as close to perfection as possible-a reasonable request, common in the world of audiovisual activities. Fortunately, the reader was patient, as was I, the monitor. The producer was satisfied after three readings of each paragraph-and I got in my afternoon nap, at the production site.

My whole point is this: In planning an effort, take some time to consider potential “unforeseen” scenarios. Having contingency plans for time, energy and other resources will go a long way towards avoiding misconceptions, as to the motivations of those asking for more.

The Road to Diamond, Day 28: A Not Boring Day

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December 26, 2024, Santa Fe- A passing reference to this day being “the most boring day of the year” was made last night, as our Christmas celebration was winding down. It turned out to be anything but dull.

I drove across northeast Arizona and western New Mexico this morning, stopping only at Glenn’s Bakery, in Gallup, to get one of his exceptionally tasty red chili breakfast burritos, with no potatoes and lots of bacon and scrambled egg. The red chili salsa, cooked inside the burrito, makes all the difference.

Driving straight to Santa Fe, I found my friends at King’s Rest Court Inn were just getting finished cleaning the rooms, having been left high and dry by their regular cleaning crew. My room was, however, ready in five minutes’ time and a fine rest ensued, making up for last night’s long drive. There was then a small errand-purchasing new razor blades, after the one that I brought with me had broken at its clip. It is possible to use a safety blade with no handle. I did so this morning, but did not want to make it a habit. So, I drove through the interesting and chaotic parking lot near Target, finding that Santa Fe drivers hold their own in the aggression department. Carefully making my way into the store, I found it was almost as chaotic inside. Several confused people were in and out of each other’s way. No boredom here. I got my Dollar Shave Club razor 6-pack and headed back to King’s Rest.

On the way, a call from an old friend set up tomorrow’s agenda, for a project that will be tomorrow’s centerpiece. After talking with him and messaging the person for whom the project is being done, I went to The Pantry, owned by a large Spanish Land Grant family, who have become friends over the past five years. The hot burrito plate was perfect for this rather chilly day. Two burritos in one day will last me a while.

In the evening, I joined a Zoom call, to study the spiritual foundation of a Baha’i institution. After that meeting, there came yet another message, that a Baha’i is moving to the Hopi Nation, to serve as a medical professional. This brings a matter full circle, as one of the most active Baha’is in that area, when I first worked in Tuba City (1981-86), worked as the chief of the field in which the new practitioner will be serving. He died young, of natural causes. Now comes another, who I will be honoured to help orient to that unique and long-surviving culture.

2024, a year of intense activity, is not winding down. It will go out with a few bangs.

The Road to Diamond, Day 27: A Simple Beauty

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December 25, 2024, Winslow- I came upon the midnight clear, or close to it, into this small but vibrant community, which Jackson Browne once chose as a surrogate for nearby Flagstaff, in his song “Take It Easy”. Flag already had a lot going for it, being the Snow Capital of Arizona, and Winslow seemed to be both more “poetic” and in need of a boost, so “Standin’ on the corner in Winslow, Arizona…..”. it was. Besides, anyone who has ever driven along Route 66 in Flagstaff knows that the girl wasn’t slowing down on account of ol’ Jackson. She was merely stuck in the city’s legendary traffic.

Anyway, back to Christmas. In Home Base I, and across the Southwest, anyone looking for snow was out of luck. Christmas, and its antecedent, Yule, for that matter, does not depend on snow and cold to be truly meaningful. That hype simply has made a nicety out of the sheer terror that a hard winter can bring. In that regard, it is no different than the Ice Festivals and Winter Carnivals held in Quebec-Ville, Sapporo and the depths of the forest in the Saami lands of Scandinavia. Man carves joy out of adversity, and we survive to face a sometimes kindly, and other times frightful and tornado-riven, Spring.

What makes Christmas meaningful is the promise that the great Teacher, Whose birth is celebrated today, made in His ministry: “The Kingdom of God on Earth will come”. It’s taken a long, perhaps an excruciatingly long, time. We’ve approached peace among ourselves, only to scurry back to the shadow lands of conflict and warfare, countless times since the Day of Resurrection-and well before it. It will take a few more centuries, perhaps, but achieve peace, we will. Astrologers say the Aquarian Age will arrive sometime in the 26th Christian Century, sometime around 2534 AD/CE (591 Baha’i Era). I’ll be off weaving new planets, or whatever the Divine has in Mind for me, and my descendants will be of the sixth or seventh generation, by then. In any event, this theory squares with Baha’i Teachings, that the Golden Age, the Most Great Peace, will be in full flower around that time. How difficult a process that is will be determined by us, as a species.

I attended two gatherings today, that could be seen as harbingers for the sort of peace that humanity can build. In early afternoon, eight of us gathered at the grave site of a much-loved wife, mother, grandmother and friend. Her husband sang prayers, and sacred music that he had composed. The rest of us offered prayers for spiritual progress, healing and the well-being of humanity. Marcia was, no doubt, very pleased.

Later in the afternoon, thirteen of us gathered in the Spirit of Christ, at a friend’s home in the forest of Prescott’s west side. We shared the simple beauty of home made chili and cornbread, salad and three very rich desserts. Hot chocolate took the edge off the cold that came with nightfall. The toddler son of a young couple entertained us with his harmonica-each extended one-note generated applause from the adults, bringing his little face to radiance. His little sister was just glad to be in the loving arms of at least one of her parents, or grandmother, or aunt. We talked of everything from the operation of a dog-boarding facility to the approaching travels of two of us-a young lady to Costa Rica, for her first journey outside the U.S. and me, on my third visit to the Philippines. Both have elements of joy and promise, and elements of uncertainty. Undertaken in faith, though, the right thing will prevail.

Christmas is best observed as a day of simple beauty-and so it was today.

The Road to Diamond, Day 26: No Shortcuts

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December 24, 2024- In my walk to Granite Creek Park, after lunch at The County Seat, I took the route that looped around The Depot Marketplace and said my prayers in the nearly empty park. After several further minutes of contemplation, I walked around the north edge of the Marketplace, to see if there might be a shortcut to Sheldon Street, and downtown. There being nothing but fences in that area, I walked over to Sixth Street, past the Foxworth-Galbraith Lumberyard and on up to Pleasant Street-for maybe .6 mile longer a route.

Many times in life, we think that a shortcut might be better. In my experience, faster or easier are seldom better. Certainly, there have been times when I have driven, rather than walked, a mere 1-2 blocks for an event. Those have been times when I am transporting a disabled person, or carrying a sizable amount of food and drink, or other materials; or when I have another engagement, right after the nearby one. I like to keep that to a minimum, as long as I can.

Solving the problems facing humanity lends itself to a wish for quick fixes and shortcuts, because we tend to be impatient, even in maturity, due to the rapid pace of life. No parent likes to see a child suffer, so we look for the fastest remedy to illness or go after any bullies who might be taking out their frustrations on our children. Conversely, no child, at any age, wants to see a parent go through pain, so interventions are staged-and not always with the full understanding and consent of the parent. Citizens, too often, choose to listen to the loudest voice in the public sphere, especially when that voice is backed by money and power.

I am fortunate to have been raised by parents who thought several steps ahead. Mother’s concern was always with how a decision made for us would affect our actions as adults. So, there were relatively few antibiotics given us in sickness (Hot tea with lemon was almost a panacea, for any respiratory ailments.) Bed rest was required. Self-examination was always expected, before we indulged in blame casting. Even now, when presented with a dilemma, my first thoughts are “How would Mom and Dad have handled it?” Adult family members and close neighbours were frequently consulted, so networking has become second nature. Impulsivity is largely something I gave up, about thirty years ago, though being rather uncoordinated, I seldom accomplished anything by acting in haste, even as a child or teenager.

So, as this hyperactive year winds down, I find that taking the long way to some place, or through something, is far more beneficial, in minimizing unforeseen consequences. Happy Trails, everyone!

The Road to Diamond, Day 25: Resurgence

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December 23, 2024- I made my customary Monday morning visit to a coffee group, this morning. I was met, in the lobby of the apartment building where the gathering is held, by four of the regulars, and told that we would practice physical distancing today, as COVID and the flu were all over the complex. I spent about an hour talking with them, with the large lobby, then went back to Home Base and fortified myself, so as not to relapse into the flu state that hit me, 1 1/2 weeks ago. The diseases are resurgent, but not in me.

There is a resurgence of another form of disease, fear-based nationalism and hatred, being fanned by those who seek the quick fix to those issues that they have identified as posing a threat to their profit margins. Fear is an understandable response to uncertainty, and it is also a self-defeating response. If the French Revolution and the Chinese Cultural Revolution are any indication, exacerbating people’s negative emotions en masse will lead to a far different result than what the wirepullers imagined. Stubbornness and excessive pride, alas, are also resurgent, and the same lessons may well be destined to repeat themselves.

Good things are resurgent as well. Certainly, the spirit of love and fellowship always seems to take center stage, at this time of year. This evening, I was delighted to help serve a three-course prime rib dinner to the disadvantaged, at Solid Rock Soup Kitchen. Rather than having the people stand in line, we served them at table, bringing plates of salad, prime rib and fixings, followed by small slices of cake for dessert. Everyone was overjoyed at being treated like royalty, in the true spirit of Christmas.

There are hope and connection in the wind again, also. Thinking matters through is a practice that is resurgent, at least at the local level. I am meeting more people who see the way forward, the way out of the widely-perceived morass, as pursuing and practicing a path of actual civility. The more of us there are, who are not drawing invisible lines of division in their daily lives, the better it will be-first at the community level and then on up the chain.

Let there be light after the diseases and the mayhem.

The Road to Diamond, Day 23: Longest and Darkest

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December 21, 2024- When love is freely given them, the children always love back.

Six little girls danced continuously, as the family band, Galactogogues served up the contents of their 13-song album. When the tempo was fast and vibrant, the children pranced, tumbled and bounced around the dance floor, under the watchful eyes of their mothers and grandmothers. When the music was quiet and subdued, the girls offered rather elegant interpretive steps. (The aging security guard glared and grumbled, but that’s another story.) There was love between parents and children.

I thought of the times when my generation’s youthful energy alternately got approval and admonition, from our elders. The same happened when my son’s generation did things that were harmless and delightful, or when they came close to harm’s way. Invariably, the generations understood each other, because underneath it all, there was love.

Today, in the northern hemisphere, featured the longest and darkest night. Here, it was a thing of beauty. The stars twinkled above, and there was a sense of camaraderie among the fans of Galactogogues. The band played all our favourites from its various club dates of the past five years and a few new tunes from the Bohrman’s son and daughter. At the end of the evening, as Meg Bohrman credited her children, Cosimo and Opal, and percussionist friend, Zach Dominguez, Opal did not let her mother go uncredited. When love is freely given them, the children always love back.

Far across the Pacific, another family reunited, a few days ago. I know the mother. She gives enormously of herself, for the sake of each of her three children. They, in turn, are protective of her as well. The same hold with yours truly, and my little family. We are a unit built on love.

When love is freely given them, the children always love back.

Here is the family, about ten years ago, offering their reworking of “Will The Circle Be Unbroken?”

The Road to Diamond, Day 22: Fortunate Language

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December 20, 2024- Today was the day of least light, in the Northern Hemisphere. Solstice, now recognized in its global sense, was also the day of most light, south of the Equator. Either way, Solstice is a day of reflection. Each of us, in this day and age, is accountable for our own behaviour- and no one else’s.

When I was an adolescent and young adult, my behaviour and its accompanying language were intemperate. There is much for which I have had to atone, though fortunately nothing that merits civil or criminal justice. I never hurt anyone physically, or impaired anyone’s good name. Still, once committing on my present spiritual path, I let go of several habits and the accompanying tendency to use profane language.

Many people, even some in my Faith community, regard profanity as part of free speech. That is true, a person may speak in a manner that expresses her/his mood, sensibility and belief-even that which is momentary. My own take, though, is that a person can find words that express emotions, from joy to exasperation to sorrow, that are accurate, and are intelligent. Profanity is just plain unfortunate. It only adds a layer of insult to the exchange-and the insult is actually a two-way street.

I was once prone to admonish people about excessive use of profanity. Now, though, it is just white noise and does not convince me that the speaker is in any way right. Speaking only for myself, I would rather get my listeners to understand the cogency of my words. There is no cogency in cussing- unless the purpose is to convey anger or exasperation. Even then, are there not other words, which can make the point as well, or better?

Solstice is a day of reflection.

The Road to Diamond, Day 21: The Spot

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December 19,2024- As she served my coffee cake muffin, warmed with butter, I exchanged Thanksgiving stories with the proprietor of the small coffee shop, on the first floor of Prescott Antiques. A gentleman entered, and after a bit, the conversation turned to jukeboxes. He is a collector of the appliances, and was preparing to take ownership of the Wurlitzer model that had sat in the corner of the shop, for about three years. It seems, unsurprisingly, that there are over a dozen brands of the machine. Wurlitzer is the brand that I have seen most often.

When he and his team removed the jukebox, there was a white area on the mostly yellow wall. The barista fretted a bit about the appearance of the spot. Before long, the store’s owner came down and also noted that the area was two-toned. He got some yellow paint, a medium brush and some newspaper, and painted a small test area. I told him it looked a bit brighter than the rest of the yellow, but that is the difference between fresh and faded. So, he continued to paint the rest of the spot.

I left the coffee shop, after finishing my muffin and drink, and went upstairs to the minerals area. The owner and his wife were still discussing the paint job. I felt it was fairly routine, but to them, it was the center of the morning’s activity. My center was picking out two emerald green stones to bring to my friend, in late January. Everything is relative.

So, on we go, inching our individual and collective ways towards a Christmas that appears to be an after-thought, or an impediment, to many in positions of civic responsibility. Governments, at the Federal, state, local and even tribal levels, are fighting among themselves over matters that are even less important, at their level, than the bare spot in the corner of a ground floor room is to the owners of the business.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic, in the small French city of Avignon, an indomitable woman, who had been assaulted by no fewer than 52 men, over a period of ten years, won her case against them, with the support of her children and siblings. He former husband and his partners in crime were found guilty of all charges. This is what really matters, in the larger scheme of things. May the case of Michele Pelicot resound worldwide, as loudly as the Dreyfus case did, in 1906.

In times of confusion, priorities can be scrambled. Clear-headedness, then is all the more vital. The people in the antiques store tended to their fairly small task with dispatch. The court in the Rhone Valley took longer, but sorted the details and served justice to the unwavering victim and her family. Will our governments here in the U.S.-and Canada find their bearings?