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 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 24: White Pills

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December 22, 2024- A red pill is still a pill-a quick fix; so are a green pill, a black pill, a yellow pill, a jagged little pill, and a white pill.

The conservative writer, John Stossel, whose work I read whenever I encounter it-usually in our local newspaper, The Prescott Courier, spent his most recent column discussing a book by a self-styled anarchist, named Michael Malice (“Malees”), who hails from Russia and survived life in the Soviet Union. This book is called “The White Pill- A Symbol of Hope”. Mr. Malice means no measure of the other word that’s spelled the same as his surname. Yet, his focus, alas, is with the enemy he knows: Authoritarian socialism, communism, Marxism-the “foe” on the Left. He skips over authoritarianism on the Right: Illiberalism, revanchism, Fascism. He placed, at the time of his interview with Mr. Stossel, more trust in the judgment of Elon Musk than in that of any actual politician, including Donald Trump. That was then (a month ago).

A white pill is still just a pill; a quick fix. There is no substitute for hard work, when it comes to maintaining civility, equanimity, democracy. Before anyone jumps in and says: “But this is NOT a democracy, it’s a republic!”, let me remind you that a republic is a derivative of democracy (Demos kratos-people power, in Old Greek). Any government where the citizens have an actual voice-Republic, constitutional monarchy, parliamentary system, is a democracy. Any government of the few is an oligarchy, whether the elites are “conservative” or “progressive”.

Mr. Stossel promises to continue his debate with Mr. Malice. In light of Elon Musk’s recent praise of neo-Nazis in Germany, I will continue to follow the discourse.

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?

The Road to Diamond, Day 7: Songbirds

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December 5, 2024- I received a video from the Baha’is of Manila, showing their newly renovated Center. All of my concerns about a safe workspace for the caretakers and kitchen staff have been addressed. It is a great day!

A Filipino expatriate here in Prescott told me, at a gathering this evening, that his mother recalls people in Palawan, the western island of the Philippines, sounded like birds when they talked. It was in reference to people going to that island, from other parts of the country, and speaking in dialects that others could not understand-like different songbirds not knowing each others’ trills.

I thought of how this dissonance happens, even between people who speak the same language, with the same accent. When we hear things through our own filters, rather than what is meant by the speaker, it’s as if there is scant understanding. One’s sweet warbling can even sound like the squawk of a parrot, or croak of a corvid. It is often best to run what you heard by the speaker, to dispense with any possible misunderstanding.

In any case, there is no need for long-term schisms between people of good will, when clear communication can be maintained.

The Road to Diamond, Day 6: Cred

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December 4, 2024- There are reports from Washington about the current group of nominees for high office. Some appear estimable and competent; others, not so much. I will not get into the name game, as it’s more effectively played by others. Besides, partisanship is a losing proposition. Skill sets, though, are important in the day-to-day business of what we are given to call “adulting”.

I was not the greatest classroom teacher, by a long shot, especially in the early days of my career. Personal struggles kept me down, and only the Faith of Baha’u’llah helped me get back up. The raw materials instilled in me, by my parents needed that extra push to come to the fore. It was only in my thirties that credibility began to accumulate. That “cred” endured, even during the period of Penny’s decline, which took my eyes off the prize, out of necessity.

I mention this, because the recent trend towards “looking outside the circle” for people to head various organizations, is like a game of “Whack-a-Mole”. Some of the candidates are quick studies, and will bring their native intelligence to bear on whatever job they are assigned. Others are tough sells, for various reasons, and would no doubt struggle with some of the more difficult decisions that would land at their feet. There is never an easy way to fill positions, especially at the higher levels of an organization. Credibility, therefore, is something that needs constant attention, early on.

I look forward to seeing competent people, political stance aside to a certain extent, being tapped to manage the affairs of state. It is principle, moral fiber, and not ideology, that is the bottom line here.

The Road to Diamond, Day 5: Seoul

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December 3, 2024- As I wrapped up my visit with Aram and Yunhee, stopping for a satisfying lunch at a Pollo Regio branch, just down the street from HB II, a drama was unfolding in Seoul, South Korea, that may have worldwide implications.

As Aram and I drove to DFW, and he jockeyed for position on the road with at least one driver who didn’t know what he wanted to do, much less know where he was headed, thousands of people in Seoul found they had been betrayed. These were young men, who had voted into office a man who told them what they wanted to hear, that he felt their pain in the midst of a world that no longer put them on a pedestal, and that he would reverse the course of society and make men the center of the Universe, once more. Now, that same President was declaring martial law, placing himself on a pedestal-for the first time since 1989, when the last authoritarian President left office.

I lived in South Korea, in the final years of Chun Doo-hwan’s regime. My little family and I were not treated badly, but I noticed that those who dissented publicly were routinely dispersed by pepper-spray and water cannon. I noticed that the riot police themselves were not treated much better, by their minders. There was wire-pulling going on, setting the common people against one another, 24/7. This lessened, to a great extent, after a series of democratically-elected leaders, beginning with the conservatives Roh Tae-woo and Kim Young-sam, and followed by progressives, themselves alternating with conservatives, proceeded to bring South Korea into a wider world.

Liberals and conservatives alike are fond of using phrases like “There’s no turning back” ,and “New World Order”. The two groups’ meanings are, at first blush, polar opposites of each other. There are, however, commonalities. Both see a world in which common people have a voice and the power brokers are reined in. Where they differ is with regard to exactly who those power brokers are. Conservatives see the “enemy” as Hollywood, “the Global Left”, Planned Parenthood and international financiers. Progressives see their foes as “the Christian Right” and mega-donors who control the levers of the media-both mainstream and social. In fact, those who stand in their way are the same forces-individuals and groups whose agenda rests in exercising control.

This is where what happened yesterday in Seoul matters to the world at large. The young men who voted in Yoon Suk-yeol, in 2022, are very similar to those who have voted in authoritarian leaders across the globe, in the past six years. Their locus of control is external, so they see any attempt by society and government to reduce the marginalization of women as a threat to their own well-being. This, as well as for different reasons that are specific to countries like Argentina, El Salvador, Hungary and the Netherlands, has brought similarly authoritarian leaders to the fore. Those, both male and female, who see themselves as being buffeted by forces out of their control, are bound to turn to the first, and loudest, appeal to their sense of well-being. I give you Weimar Germany, post-WWI Italy and Spain, resource-poor Japan of the 1920s and ’30s.

When Yoon Suk-yeol tried to return South Korea to the militarized days of 1960-88, the people found their inner locus of control-and took their country back, in short order. This looms large, for those who see authoritarianism as the wave of the future. “It ain’t necessarily so”-Ira Gershwin.

The true New World Order will arise from those whose locus of control is internal.