February 21, 2019- Continue reading
Category Archives: Community
Needed All Over
February 15, 2019, Blythe-
I refer above to Love, itself. Today has brought an increase in saddening, troubling news from many parts: The slaughter of at least five people in Aurora, IL; severe flooding in southern California; flu and other respiratory ailments, hitting many families with whom I am in communication. These, plus what I noted in yesterday’s post, occupy my thoughts and prayers.
I am here in this eastern California desert town, with wind gusting around 30 mph, on occasion. It’s not raining here, yet. Near San Diego are some people who mean everything to me, and who are in dire straits. I am in communication with one of them, and will do whatever the family needs. There are, at present, many resources available to help those in danger, and I am a long way from being a Superhero, so the bounds of sanity apply here-fear not. Nonetheless, I love these kids dearly and will not let them slip through the cracks. I would do the same for any number of people, should the need arise.
That said, I am keeping an eye on Prescott and northern Arizona, as well. We may well have quite a time of it, early next week. Stay tuned, and stay connected.
In The Blood
February 14, 2019-
It’s been a rough few days- with a dear friend falling and suffering some serious injuries, another friend diagnosed with cancer and still others with chronic illnesses, not getting any better. The weather here has been rambunctious- soaking rain, a good thing in the long run, has fallen steadily for the past thirteen hours. More is on the way, followed by snow in the latter part of this weekend.
I have had much time to reflect on the nature of love, on this day of cards and chocolate. I have to look at myself, as always. I don’t hold grudges; if a person who savaged me later comes to me in need, I find a way to help meet that need. I have made terrible errors in judgement- and find it critical to make amends to the person, where possible. I don’t always feel loved, and have to then look at what I am projecting outward.
Love shows itself in a myriad ways-the bottom line being that the beloved feels the goodness of heart. Words alone are not one of those ways. Neither is merely providing a place of residence: Slavemasters, after all, provided a home of sorts, for those who were frequently brutalized. Constantly abusing another, and getting by with apologies, is NOT love.
Love is in the blood. My parents’ love for us came naturally and never receded. The same is true of my love for my late wife, and for our child. Suffice it to say, any children coming from his own marriage will find three truly loving grandparents standing behind their mother and father.
Love is in the blood. Any way I can help a suffering friend, I will. Grand gestures, though, have to be kept to a minimum. Those are the first things, upon which a hater or critic will seize, as evidence of one’s fecklessness. I’ve had that thrown in my face, more than once, and sometimes rightfully.
Love is in the blood, and thus can’t be erased easily, if at all.
The Quiet Ones
February 13, 2019-
My high school yearbook entry, in 1968, included “Silent, but always there”. So it has been for much of my life. If I haven’t had anything I felt was meaningful to say, much of the time, I’ve kept still. Those who need constant noise and chatter, so as to not feel insecure, have often drawn the conclusion that I am some sort of dolt. My autism certainly has not done anything to change that view. Only time and acquaintance have dispelled the dim view, in all but three instances.
Last night, a relatively brief gathering found me in a quiet, introspective, frame of mind, with little to say. One person asked my thoughts about my current employer; his eyes glazing over, when my reply went in a different direction than what he had been thinking. Others seemed to feel like I was snubbing them, but that was far from the case.
The thing about the quiet ones is that we are in constant thought, and observation, about what is going on in our midst. I will ever be concerned with what is going on around me. I may not have the same perspective as those who are seeking confirmation of their own views, and so the turnstile will continue to revolve, here in the blogosphere, as well as in real time. That’s fine-as my first responsibility is to be true to my own heart. The Infinite has set a course for each of us, in that direction: “Go placidly amid the noise and haste….”.
The quiet ones will always have much to say, and much that is meaningful, regardless of the tenor of the times and regardless of what thoughts are current, trendy. Listening to us does require that one’s own inner noise gets turned down a notch. Rest assured that is the case, with our listening to you.
Terms of Endearment
February 10, 2019-
For no apparent reason, I have been thinking of the ways in which I have tended to address people, over the years. There is usually a tendency to call people my age or older by the name with which they introduce themselves, or honourifics (Sir, Mr. ______, Mrs. or Ms. ______________, Ma’am). At work, I use names with titles, as an example for the students to follow. Younger men are either called by their preferred name or “Bud”. Younger women are, more and more, called by their preferred name-but there is still “Sweetheart”, towards those with whom I feel a particular bond. “Baby” is infantilizing, and “Honey” is a term best used by a significant other-so these have been sent to the Island of Shopworn Derogatives. Profane names are not an option.
In any case, all people are entitled to be addressed in the manner that they choose, when in a dignified frame of mind. I don’t take being corrected, personally, ever. Now that that’s out of the bag, I wish one and all a fabulous Sunday evening-and a Happy Valentine’s Week.
A Desert Sort of Sway
February 9, 2019, Chandler, AZ-
After my satisfying Saturday morning routine, I headed down here, to this bustling eastern suburb of Phoenix, to take in several hours of Arizona Roots, a music and art festival that smashes the monotony of winter in the desert. I was clued to this event by one of my friends from last Fall’s Convergence at Arcosanti.
I didn’t find her there, but I did find the sort of atmosphere that I experienced at Convergence, albeit a loving atmosphere, writ large. Instead of dozens of gentle souls crammed into a room, there were several hundred crammed into the area in front of the Main Stage.
There were artisan ensembles, like The Clint Stevens Band, just getting together and having some laid-back fun. Then, there was the mix of serious message and hakuna matata, from J-Boog and Rebelution, who did the Main Stage proud, while I was in its midst.
Although everyone there was a “total stranger” to me, it was easy to revert to Convergence dance form, and alternately bounce up and down, sway back and forth, and flash the Hawaiian thumb and pinky greeting at Jarell, whilst he was leading J-Boog, in a feisty 55-minute set of heartfelt reggae.
Here is one of their signature songs, about a lovely Hawaiian lady who makes J’s heart sing.
I felt none of the awkward “Really, old dude” self-talk that made me feel, initially, like a duck out of water, at Convergence. It helped to remember what a great time I had there, after letting that pointless crap go. So, I enjoyed 3 1/2 hours of “anonymous camaraderie”, that evokes what I probably missed at the great music festivals of the ’60’s and ’70’s. I had a lovely time, without any recreationally-enhancing substances. To be sure, these were flowing, and wafting, quite freely. I’m goofy enough on my own, and remember what a horror show I was, as a drunk and as a stoner, before 1981, and sobriety. Here is the scene, as J-Boog worked their magic.
![20190209_174039[1]](https://peacefulwarrior9.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/20190209_1740391.jpg?w=640)
![20190209_173537[1]](https://peacefulwarrior9.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/20190209_1735371.jpg?w=640)
As I was entering the grounds, Rebelution was in mid-set. The mid-afternoon crowd wasn’t quite revved up, as yet.![20190209_161757[1]](https://peacefulwarrior9.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/20190209_1617571.jpg?w=640)
Next time, I know to check for Early-Bird ticket prices, in mid-November. A scalper, in the parking lot, offered me a “two-days for one” deal, which showed desperation. I did not have any intention of sharing my PI with him, or anyone else on the street, and I have other commitments for tomorrow, so I passed. I hope to make it for both days, a year from now, as these sorts of gatherings are good for my soul-and this is, for good measure, the largest such event I have attended, without being spooked. I’d say that’s a very good sign.
The Indissoluble Bond
February 8, 2019, Chino Valley-
Every second and fourth Friday evening, God willing, a group of us gathers at the home of two dear friends, here in this town, 15 miles north of Prescott. We share a meal, then indulge in drumming and chanting, with a flautist accompanying much of the music.
There is, of course, conversation before, after and in between the musical selections. One of the members of the group shared the traditions and teachings of the Cherokee of North Carolina, explaining that there has been some divergence within the tribe, with regard to dialect and certain customs, as a result of the Trail of Tears and its resulting geographic isolation, of one group from another.
He performed a traditional Cherokee blessing, prior to the meeting’s end. This is shared below, as performed by another vocal group. I see similarities with other cultures, from Keltic Irish to Zulu, in terms of blessings wished upon visitors and loved ones. We each noted that there is an essential tie between humans, both regardless of physical distance and regardless of separation by time.
I can feel an almost palpable connection, with my maternal grandfather, who I never met and with paternal ancestors, who I have been assured are watching over me constantly, from the distance of several hundred years. Likewise, among those who live hundreds, or thousands, of miles away, I feel an unbreakable bond-though we may see one another once, or not at all, in the course of this earthly life. Whether through genetic memory or a spiritual envelope, the ties have been, and continue to be, unbreakable.
The bonds that some try to break, out of fear, narcissism or ignorance, can never really be broken. We are at a stage, in our human evolution, when connections are, or are about to be, seen for their true nature: Indissoluble.
Intensity
February 7, 2019-
I’m still working on channeling my intensity, properly. Most of my difficulties, as an autistic person, have come from not knowing when to dial back a bit. Fortunately, the progress I have made on this issue has come, courtesy of supervisors, friends and family who have been direct with me, without the cruelty that has come from others with narcissistic agendas of their own. I appreciate direct feedback, IF it is related to better doing the task at hand or concerned with my being a more whole human being.
I have, over the years since Penny passed, on occasion been drawn to women who befriended me, and, misreading their actions and statements, went off on woefully wayward tangents. Nowadays, I am supremely careful, along those lines. I remain a person of intense feelings, and these are more being channeled towards the well-being of my friends and family, as they define it.
So, my interest in the lives of people around me is less prescriptive, and more intuitive-a lot more measured, in the direction of empowerment. Life is richer that way.
Those Shadows Seen and Not Seen
February 2, 2019, Phoenix-
So the critters back East, in Punxsutawney and Staten Island, have assured us that it’ll be an early Spring. No shadows were in view, and after that region went through yet another polar vortex, followed by a modicum of thaw, the comfort is probably just a tad cold.
Sitting here, in a lull, during a timely and productive update session regarding the progress of our Faith in central Arizona, I think of the other unseen shadows, with which many of us deal, on a daily, or long-term, basis.
I took care of the biggest shadow, that of my nest-egg, sometime back, and the proceeds from the sale of a house, back in 2014, are in trust, for when I need them, beginning a few years hence.
The shadow of aging has its match, in daily use of essential oils, CBD and hemp products and, at least for a month or so, Thrive products- a gift from a grateful friend. Those and regular exercise keep me healthy and moving.
Any potential family shadows are best handled with proactivity: Research, setting time aside and regular, clear communication. This is true for all points along the family continuum.
The shadow of intellectual cramping is best countered by free dialogue. Closing one’s mind to opposing points of view does not make one smarter. I don’t see how not exposing young minds to either liberal or conservative opinions is going to improve their problem-solving ability. As a youth, I read “Mein Kampf” and “The Communist Manifesto”, being captivated by neither, but at least understanding how the authors arrived at such illogic. Closing off college campuses to Ben Shapiro, or Markos Moulitsas, will never save even the most infantilized freshman from following the primrose path of choice.
There are greater shadows-some real and some figments of vivid imaginations: The Social Security/Medicare fizzle, or lack thereof, in the 2030’s; the coinciding “end-of-the-world”, right about that same time; the potential change of our nation’s form of government (some have spoken of this, since Orwell published “1984”); the generations dropping the ball of civilized behaviour ( I seem to remember how “slovenly” and “unkempt” the Depression Parents and the GI Generation regarded us Baby Boomers).
Shadows are dispelled by light. The lights of faith, understanding, clear communication, discourse and above, all, consistent, firm action, will work wonders at clearing the darkness which seems to pervade so many lives, at so many levels.
Happy Groundhog Day!
Dimensions, Part 2
January 30, 2019-
As I mentioned in the previous post, many people look at themselves, or at others, and see ONLY one, two or three aspects, or dimensions of the person. If one sees one’s own worth, solely in terms of work ethic, then the admirable work drive consumes the person, and most likely will leave the soul wanting affirmations, as to all that there is, untapped and atrophying, in its other dimensions. If a person views members of the opposite gender, primarily in terms of physical attributes, then the beholder will be constantly bored, listless, looking for the next comely person to appear. The person so objectified may pick up on this, in fairly short order, and understandably move on, feeling basically unappreciated. The same is true for ANY single attribute: Athletic prowess, financial acumen, generosity, being light on one’s feet, sense of humour, and so on.
We are far more than the sum of our observable parts, because so much of one’s whole is UNOBSERVABLE, to the naked eye- and to the naked psyche. I could be dressed to the nines, should I attend a gala event, and perhaps attract a woman’s attention. If, when next she sees me, I am in a message teeshirt and old Dockers and am perhaps a bit unkempt, she will experience cognitive dissonance, to the extent she sees me as a one or two dimensional individual.
If a stand-up comic regales his audience, of a Saturday night, leaving most of those in attendance, in stitches, and a few days later, in a foul mood, encounters one of them and brushes off a request for an autograph, the same sort of dissonance may be the jilted fan’s experience.
Simply put, it takes time- and a fair amount of it, to really “get under the hood” of a human engine. I experienced my late wife, in all of her moods, and vice versa, BEFORE we were married. Being prepared to stick together, through whatever storms came our way, made all the difference, including readying me for the caretaker role I was to assume, in her final eight years on this plane. It was NOT true, as one of my accusers put it, not long ago, that the only way Penny could get my attention was to get sick. We lived for one another, day and night, for nearly thirty years.
The same is true of every other married couple I know, who have endured, or are enduring, similar storms. The same is true of work partners, in many enterprises. The same is true of the most intimate and enduring relationships, of any sort.
NEXT: What are some of the dimensions, of which little is commonly known?
A Sagittarian Seeker 