Peace Is Not A Seesaw

4

December 2, 2022- A man with whom I had a fairly minor disagreement, some weeks ago, was in attendance at a gathering this evening. He once more offered his apologies for that incident, and promised it would not happen again. I do not hold grudges, and called him Brother, as indeed all men are to one another, could we but see clearly.

One of the building staff then loudly called my name and demanded attention, on a separate matter, which I quietly gave him. He continued to be loud and boisterous, until I left the area and went to join my dining companions. His intent was to prove that the other individual and I were NOT on good terms, for whatever advantage that might have given him. I noticed that the apologetic one also moved to a different seat, away from the staff member.

Peace between individuals is not a zero sum game, in which “if you like him (her), you can’t be MY friend.” It is not a seesaw, with a dominant partner keeping the other up in the air (or in the dark). The angry person from this evening will eventually come back around and show courtesy, but I will not live or die waiting for that to happen.

I have experienced the loss of a couple of friends, who are outwardly loving and congenial, but inwardly volatile and rebuffing of many efforts at friendship. Their worlds are outwardly all-embracing, but inwardly exclusive, almost to the point of self-asphyxiation. I cannot do much, other than send out positive energy, in the hopes that they will gradually both love themselves more and see that some of us value them as souls and as people.

Peace is a level field, not a seesaw.

Some Shooting Stars Miss Their Mark

4

November 30, 2022- I was struck by the number of “Giving Tuesday” e-mails which returned today, saying they had fallen short of their goals; struck, but not surprised, by the news. While money is like water, and the amount in toto doesn’t change, the form in which it exists changes constantly. Snapping one’s fingers or thrusting out one’s hand does little, or nothing, to increase flow, when the supply in liquid form happens to be a trickle. I was the recipient of no fewer than 800 e-mails, over the course of Thanksgiving weekend. I gave what I consider to be a reasonable amount, during that period, and will continue, throughout the holiday season, to offer what I consider a reasonable amount.

There is another aspect to this: The very real consequence of constant bombardment, even by the most deserving of causes, is ennui; disinterest, the passing into White Noise of the message being trumpeted. At worst, it can even trigger opposition to the cause. None of these are what I want to see happen to groups like Sandy Hook Promise, Stand With Parkland, Mercy Corps/Haiti, Lady Freethinker, and World Central Kitchen. There is enough nefarious thought in the world, without bringing it to the fore.

I favour an appeal for volunteers as much, if not more than, the call for funds-as much as the mantra, “Money is our life blood”, or the cloying “Money pays the bills” may stoke the intellect. Human energy is equally beneficial, and the more local that energy, the better.

Shooting stars that aim to intensely at one target may well miss their mark. Sometimes,less is more.

Thunderbird

6

November 20, 2022- As I sat with two young siblings, in a friend’s apartment, they began drawing and then painting, images on cloth canvas squares. The kids did marvelous depictions of Pokemon characters and yin/yang symbols. My friend asked if I wanted to do a canvas of my own, which sounded like fun. I did a free-style depiction of a prehistoric bird, using a few colours: Red torso, black beak and legs, yellow tuft and green head. I would be surprised if any actual bird looked like that, but it was a nice, light activity.

It did get me thinking about the thunderbird, a common mythological creature of North America, ascribed by Algonquian-speaking peoples in the Pacific Northwest, eastern Canada, the northeast United States and the Great Lakes region, with thunderous wing-flapping and the ability to hurl lightning at giant serpents and other underwater creatures. It was said that thunderbirds ruled the land and sky, whilst serpents and underwater panthers shared the underworld. I heard about thunderbirds, growing up, and while they remain fanciful, the colour scheme has a polyglot, rainbow quality (Northwest) or has blue-black feathers.

The mythological nature of the beast, in turn, reminded me of the superhuman powers that we sometimes ascribe to actual creatures-even to the microbial level. I have fought a hard, but somewhat manageable, cold, over the past four days. It is at the point now, where it is subsiding and there is only a smidgen of mucous, itself clear. This is what I refer to as change-of-seasonitis, and it has usually showed up, around late October. My ailment has none of the symptoms attributed to COVID-19, and does remind me, pure and simple , of other bad colds I’ve had this time of year. The thunder is subsiding now,thankfully, and with a good rest and hydration, I will be fine for Tuesday’s flight.

Perhaps That’s Why….

6

November 12, 2022- “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate….”-Strother Martin, as Captain, in “Cool Hand Luke”.

I was raised to be clear in my communication with others, to not be ambiguous. As long as I have been faithful to that childhood teaching, things have gone quite well. I have, in all honesty, only been deeply, viscerally hated by someone, three times in my life. All three came from lapses of communication-either failure to listen, from stubbornness despite getting the message or from not being direct in my messaging.

I thought of this, while having lunch at a local diner, and hearing a familiar litany of complaints about our state’s leadership. It occurs to me that, while the goal of many is to increase inclusivity in the life of the community, the process is missing its target-either because the reformers are still playing the same zero sum game that got us into trouble in the first place or because they have something to hide. I am not much for conspiracy theories, so my money is on the former.

The zero sum gambit, in this case, is that conservatives have to give up something so that the historically marginalized, the cast-offs, can get what’s theirs. Zero sum games, whether played by the Right or by the Left, generate push back from those left out.

What if there is actually enough to go around? What if the problem is one of distribution, and not one of supply? The answers to these questions do not fall on the descendants of the enslaved, the small farmers, the overseers or the middle class townspeople. They do not fall to the First Nations people who were driven before the homesteaders, nor to the homesteaders themselves. They do not fall to the immigrants and their descendants. They fall instead to those who devised the system based on zero sum philosophy. Was their goal, is their goal still, to build a society that will primarily benefit the few? There are those who will freely admit that is the case, while chortling at how good their lot in life is, as a result. There are still others who nervously, even heatedly, deny any ill intent. Yet, those who are hearing them are not fooled. Some feel powerless; others feel a need to lash out and attack-even physically. Yet, there are those of us who see through all of it and know who the wire pullers are.

What we have here is failure to honestly communicate. The time when that tactic stops working is close at hand. People across the spectrum are learning to speak with one another, civilly and honestly. They are comparing notes and building plans that will benefit one and all, not just a few.

Perhaps that’s why we can trust in an optimistic view.

Not Even….

2

November 2, 2022- Perception is 9/10 of reality.

The young woman stood resolutely in front of me, demanding to now why I was focusing my attention on her small group of friends. It was simple: They were not working as expected, and had no intention of doing so. A flood of “whatabout___ and_____” was offered as a rebuttal to my reminders to get the work done. Those groups had completed their assignments, and thus earned her scorn. Being found wrong is a hard thing at any age, but particularly at 15 or 16.

Nonetheless, there is much to respect and admire about Leah (not her real name). Her work habits of this morning aside, she has more integrity in her thumbnail than a good many adults I know. I will also never discourage forthrightness and speaking truth to power. I am sure that she regarded my watching them as a form of stalking, a suspicion borne of God knows what unwanted attention, from whom.

This was one of those occasions where I stepped outside of myself-seeing a mistake in approach to a management problem and drawing insight on how I might have done things differently. A skipped assignment can always be made up. It was explained to me later, by an administrator, that Leah was having a hard time of late. As mentioned earlier, there is always a back story.

This is all a bit ironic, as for 43 of my 45 years in education, my focus has always been the well-being of the child. (The first two years were spent in a system where teachers were feeling their way out of the Dark Ages, and my track record was not all that wonderful. Remorse and atonement are wondrous things.)

As it happened, later on today, a case of verbal harassment of another student was handled swiftly-and the miscreant ended up apologizing to his target-and to the class. I am favourably impressed by the administrators at that school.

As for Leah, and any student-especially a girl or young woman-the thought of me looking upon her with lascivious eyes- ummm, not even! Perception is 9/10 of reality, however-so, it’s wise to mind the perception.

Chill, but Not Oblivious

2

October 29, 2022, Phoenix- The little girl was so excited to see her Daddy, waiting by the car, that she saw nothing else. Her older sister saw me and the Sportage, rolling along at 5 mph, and threw her arms around her, as I was stepping on the brakes. I let them cross, of course, and Daddy had a talk with his angel. Life will go on.

There were a few others, as I drove to my motel room, on the surface streets that increasingly harbour disconnected or distracted people, both pedestrians and drivers. The motel parking lot had its share of both, as well. Let it not be said that one cannot be his siblings’ keeper. On many occasions, all we have is one another-even if we never see one another again.

The day was intense, as several of us considered the matter of the Baha’i Funds. Contribution, of course, is limited to enrolled Baha’is, and the amounts given are voluntary-no hustle and no pressure. The Spirit is what must move us. We are mainly here at this conference to discuss better ways of educating our communities about the spiritual basis of the Funds. Money is a tool, sure, but it is the attitude one has towards its use that matters most. Again, no hustle and no pressure.

That being done for the day, by 7:15, I headed over to some friends’ house, in central Phoenix, and took in their rejuvenated Halloween gathering, the first they’ve had since 2019. It was a masterwork of decorations and refreshments-with about five “funhouse”style outbuildings and a safely enclosed trampoline for the kids. I stayed for about ninety minutes, then with a view towards tomorrow’s second half of the conference, I quietly left. With over a hundred people at the gathering, it was an easy exit. Driving out, I encountered “Monsters on Bicycles”, a late-evening parade of teenagers riding their bikes in an escorted formation, for which traffic briefly stopped.

This is a nice time of year to be in Phoenix and Scottsdale, with the high temperature just shy of 80. Still and all, one must be on one’s toes. Lives are at stake, otherwise.

Smooth Ride, Small Tremors

0

October 25, 2022- I slipped out of Carson City in the early morning darkness, around 5:15, hoping to catch breakfast at a small bakery in Yerington, about an hour away, as Carson’s eateries don’t open until around 7. Alas, neither does the bakery in Yerington. It did give me a good start on the long ride back to Prescott, which I was determined to complete, so as to attend a celebration of the Birth of al-Bab, with my Faith Community.

This is the week when Baha’is observe the births of both al-Bab and of Baha’u’llah, as the days occur consecutively, on the Islamic calendar, which of course was the determinant of their birth dates. We use a calendar with similar reckoning, for determining the dates of Holy Days, such as these birthdays. So, this year, al-Bab’s Birth is celebrated after sundown on October 25, or during the day on October 26. Baha’u’llah’s Birth is celebrated after sundown on October 26 or during the day on October 27.

The drive itself was steady and smooth. I got breakfast at Beans and Brews, in Tonopah, and learned it is one of about two dozen branches of a Utah-based enterprise. The workers seem very happy, and they serve good coffee and food, so it is always worth a stop, when in Tonopah. Traffic was not heavy, even in Las Vegas. I was back in Arizona by 2 p.m., stopping only for gas and a light lunch, at “Last Stop in AZ”, which is ironically on the southbound side of US 93. Drowsiness started to kick in, as I approached Jolly Road, near Seligman, so I pulled off and rested for about fifteen minutes. It was there that I felt the unmistakable tremors. Sure enough, there was a shaking, 5.1, though in Silicon Valley, a distance of 647 miles. I still felt it, when I got back to Prescott, so there must have been a few aftershocks.

The gathering for the Birth of al-Bab was large and joyful. Someone who had recently been on Pilgrimage to the Holy Land gave each of us a rose petal and small card with a prayer on it. A nice, light meal was provided by the hosts and we caught up with what each of us had been doing, over the past two weeks. Later, I got a message from the Carson City family, saying I was already missed. This is ever sweet, and I know this: So many friends, far and wide, generate strong feelings of love in my heart. I will always do what I can to have their backs, whether they are in Prescott, Carson City, Phoenix, Grapevine, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts-or any of over a hundred locations, where a warm reception awaits.

The Carson Loop, Day 10: Simple Is Deep

2

October 24, 2022, Carson City- I spotted a couple of servers at L.A. Bakery, in downtown Carson City, who were wearing t-shirts with the above message. It also describes how I have viewed life, so the message put me right at home. Seeing things in an uncomplicated light makes “deep dives” a lot easier, as there are fewer distractions.

Today was the birthday of a very young, but deeply spiritual, soul, who has been a good friend since she was two. I was once told, by a fearful man, that friendships between adults and children were unusual and that his own child would not be allowed to befriend adults, especially men. I can understand how things can go awry, and that too many adults, both male and female, are feckless and/or manipulative, when it comes to children.

V’s parents, and her grandmother, however, have known me very well, for well over twenty years and besides, ALL of my friendships, especially since recovery from a mild mental illness, nearly ten years ago, are above board. That said, I joined the family for birthday cake and gift opening, before going to another room for an online Baha’i study group, for which I was host.

I am here as another pillar of support for this large and wonderful family-of which the matriarch says I am a part. I’ve said several times, this is part of what makes life grand. It was poignant to bid the clan farewell, knowing that we will not see one another again for at least six months. That’s the way it is, with several such groups of friends-and with my biological family-but the spiritual bond is always present.

Simple is indeed deep.

The Carson Loop, Day 8: Being Ourselves

2

October 22, 2022, Carson City- There was big news out of Grapevine, this afternoon. Aram received his Chief Petty Officer pins, and will now serve in that capacity, in the U.S. Naval Reserves. He will continue to work on his Baccalaureate-and he will earn that, as well. We are a determined lot, we Boivins, as were/are our Fellman relatives.

My day here in Carson was spent with an equally determined bunch, the Smith/Carrillo/Sandoval extended family. The running conversation centered on something especially dear to my heart-the right of each person to be self. It was pointed out that most of the difficulties facing society, both here in the United States, and globally, stem from failure of people to accept each other as they are. Much of this, in turn, seems to come from personal insecurity, and as was pointed out, in another conversation, earlier this week, the notion of zero sum; if one person, or group, achieves or gets something, others stand to lose what’s theirs. This line of thinking has fostered everything from civil wars to the begging culture that arose from colonialism. It was certainly behind the brief episode of screaming and yelling that occurred last night, while I was walking along, and minding my own business. It is behind sibling rivalry, oneupmanship and people talking over each other, or interrupting someone who has the floor, and is speaking in measured tones, or haltingly.

It took a very long time for me to value who I am. I made a lot of progress in that regard, over the course of my 29-year marriage and, thus far, 34 + years of parenthood. I have had precious little trouble accepting everyone else, for who they are, but myself? It’s only, really, been since 2014, that I have been 100% okay with me.

My extended family members, one in particular, stressed that this concept is actually one of the primary keys to the growth of a peace culture, to wit: Parents should lay off pushing their children to follow a narrative that is primarily designed to fulfill the wishes of the parents, and not their own. This affects everything from mistaking a phase in the child’s life for an indicator of his/her destiny to fulfilling, for the parent(s), a long cherished dream, which is NOT necessarily the child’s own, to the attitude that so many have towards people who disagree with them, even on relatively mundane matters.

The consensus of our conversation today was: Let us each be, and love, ourselves.

The Carson Loop, Day 7: Brushing Off Gnats

2

October 21, 2022, Carson City- The truck with a “Black” flag slowed as it passed and the visibly angry passenger screamed out the window: “Get out of this town!” The truck kept on going, and so did I, walking to Ming’s Chinese Restaurant and Sushi Bar. I got my combination fried rice and egg rolls, enjoyed a few cups of hot jasmine tea, and remembered old times in Phoenix, Saugus and other places with good Chinese cuisine. I most often opted for fried rice of some kind, or buckwheat noodles. Tonight, carrying leftovers, I walked back to the motel. The gnats in the truck had been brushed off, and I had no further trouble from anyone.

The day as a whole was uneventful. Breakfast at Holiday Motel was cereal, muffin and yogurt, with “of-course, coffee”. I left Winnemucca around 11:30, then stopped for lunch at Lovelock’s Cowpoke Cafe, where a bustling lone server took my order, wiped tables and delivered soft drink orders to three tables-almost in one fell swoop. He was soon joined by three women, one of whom helped for more than ten minutes. I’m not sure what the other two ended up doing, but the food was good and the people all seemed happy.

I settled into America’s Best Value Inn, called my extended family here in Carson and made tentative plans for the next three days. Visits to a nice new home of one branch of the clan, a devotional and a birthday party will be on tap. The best news: Aram has completed his Chief Petty Officer training, for the Navy Reserve and will receive his rank tomorrow. I have a hard-working family, all around, so the various successes don’t surprise me at all.