January 31, 2025, Manila- She completed a veritable mountain of translations, of Baha’i scriptures and guidance, from English to Tagalog, over a 40-year career. This, without a college degree, relying on a high level of intuition and native linguistic intelligence. Some of the texts she translated are quite challenging to read and comprehend in English. Her husband said she worked on translating letters from our Supreme Body, the Universal House of Justice,as soon as they were distributed. She anticipated the letters and set aside time for the work. This was the way of Maria Adoracion Inowe Newman, who died today at age 64.
The news came to me early this morning, about four hours after her passing, and so the day, which might otherwise have been rather quiet, became busy with messages back and forth, and a taxi ride across town to the high speed rail, which brought us to Antipolo, the Prescott of Luzon, and the city where Ador lived. After five of us took a motorcycle cab from the city center to the cemetery, we spent about an hour in reflection and some conversations, before the service was held, in gentle sunlight and a cool mountain breeze. Ador had chosen the prayers, a balance of English and Tagalog verses, reflecting her life’s work.
A life well-lived begets a personage well-loved, or perhaps the two are intertwined. Ador seems like a fitting name for the lady, judging from the quiet flow of sorrow this afternoon.
January 29, 2025, Manila- The six children gathered outside the small cafe, with two of them standing at the window, and all but demanding that those of us inside reach in our pockets and give to the cause. The owner sent a young lady out to tell them, nicely, to leave. That lasted for three minutes, and we all sensed they were merely hiding around the corner. The group came back, a second time, and were nearly as aggressive. This time, the owner sent a brusque male employee, whose message was that the police were on their way. The group left, going across the street to stand in front of a student dormitory.
Winter brings desperation, even in a relatively warm place like the Philippines. This is the dry season, though that will soon end. There have been reports of young men on motorcycles, harassing those going in and out of the U.S. Embassy and VA Clinic that is near the Embassy, though not the one I would use, were I to decide to move here. I am sure the police are responding, and besides, I have no plans to be anywhere near that area, this time around.
I take precautions with my belongings, when out on the street. Kids, and others, don’t see anything easily taken, because I don’t make it obvious, and thieves need to move quickly. I also don’t let myself be surrounded by any group of people, of any age. The kids yesterday, in San Gregorio, were respectful and had a documented, registered cause. The group outside the cafe, this evening, have done this before and when young adults pass them by, they don’t try anything foolish.
So, the dinner show was not all that entertaining. I was alone, and calmly had my rather modest meal. Food from street stalls, which is what the beggars themselves eat, is actually as plentiful as what was offered in the cafe, and I have eaten it myself, more than once. It is also a whole lot cheaper.
Why don’t I just put coins in cups? Multiply the group of six by the number of those watching from a distance, and you will have your answer. Baha’u’llah teaches that “the most despicable among men are those who sit idly and beg.” It is important to redirect children towards meaningful activity, and away from such idleness.
January 19, 2025- Consider the musk ox. The animal, found across the Arctic region, will gather in closed herds, with the larger and more robust members forming a circle around the youngest and more infirm members of the group. The needs of all are considered, as the guardians stand shoulder to shoulder against predators, and the neediest are safer from harm.
I have often wondered at the possibility of a human community that would operate under a similar aegis. It has ever seemed possible, given our collective intelligence and drive towards survival. Today, at a devotional brunch, one of the participants spoke of Doughnut Theory, as means for conservative and liberal thinkers to reach common ground.
In 2012, the English economist Kate Raworth published a paper, on behalf of the famine relief organization, Oxfam, calling for an economic model that balances basic human needs with the boundaries of this planet. She called it Doughnut Economics. https://doughnuteconomics.org/about-doughnut-economics. After working in a micro-enterprise project in Zanzibar, in the mid-1990s, Ms. Raworth became critical of the notion of unfettered economic growth. She began to advance a model that promotes meeting the basic needs of every human being, such as nutrition and education, while protecting the ecosystem and thus not limiting opportunities for future generations.
The “wheel” of the doughnut has an inner layer,the social foundation; then there is a mid-section,a regenerative and distributive economy and an outer layer, the ecological ceiling. Outside the “wheel” are the challenges facing humanity: Air pollution, ozone layer depletion, climate change, ocean acidification, chemical pollution, nitrogen and phosphorous loading, freshwater withdrawals, land conversion and biodiversity loss. Inside the “wheel” are the spokes: Gender equality, housing, networks, energy, water, food, health, education, income/work, peace/justice, political voice, and social equity. The risks are two: There can be a shortfall in meeting one or more of these essential needs and there can be an overshooting of facing one or more of the challenges.
It was pointed out, at another gathering, this afternoon, that Baha’u’llah has charged all humanity, from rulers and the learned to the most humble and destitute, to face the challenges of living on this planet as a global community, while retaining responsibility for individualgrowthand the identities of local communities and nations. In that regard, as well as just a general sense of thoughtfulness, Doughnut Economics is worthy of serious study and efforts at implementation.
January 15, 2025- He was never, to my knowledge, at a loss for words. in his search for truth, he frequently spoke of a figure in his dreams, to whom he referred as “the shiny man”. I, too, dreamed of that same figure, on my first visit to Prescott, in 1979. William Sears and I had both dreamed of ‘Abdu’l-Baha. Mr. Sears, who preferred to be called “Bill”, established Desert Rose Baha’i School, along with his wife, Marguerite, in 1988. It was held in various locations, in Tucson, for its first eight years. Mr. Sears passed away in 1992, but Marguerite and a small group of helpers purchased land in 1996. This became Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, occupying about half of the land that Marguerite had envisioned for the Institute. (The other half, still owned by individual Baha’is, faces an uncertain future.)
Penny and I visited DRBI last, in 2007, when we joined a gathering of musicians. The late Dan Seals was among the artists present, and is the only person who has ever persuaded me to sing in a chorus. It was not a bad experience, joining people whose voices were pleasant, in a rendition of “We Are One”. That, of course, was both Dan’s, and Penny’s, last visit to Desert Rose. He died in 2009, and she, in 2011.
I went there today, after visiting Tohono Chul Park, in Oro Valley, near Tucson. That salubrious desert park’s Garden Bistro served up what will now be among my favourite plates: Mesquite flour pancakes, filled with Poblano peppers, topped with fresh berries. It was my second fabulous meal in a row, dinner having been a supremely savoury taco salad, at Benson’s Cafe 86, a homey local favourite, staffed by a hard working couple.
It was thus time for spiritual food to supplement the repasts. I pulled up next to a sign at Desert Rose that said “administration”. A small group was sitting outside a house next to the building. After greeting each other, I got basic directions from one of the ladies, as to the location of Mr. and Mrs. Sears’ memorial sites. (Marguerite passed in 2006, and is buried in the Institute’s Memorial Park.) After a brief stroll around the main property, I stopped at the memorial dome that is dedicated to Bill, reflecting on his life’s work, which ranged from being a sportscaster in Philadelphia to humanitarian efforts, from Mississippi to South Africa. He was ever a stalwart foe of racial segregation, but always worked within the law.
The Memorial Dome for William Sears, Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, Eloy, Arizona.
Here are a few of the other buildings that grace the property.
Round House is the dining hall and doubles as a conference center.Musician Chris Ruhe manages this small FM radio station, which serves up both spiritual and secular programming.Hadden Hall is the main conference center.This is Marguerite Reimer Sears’ resting place. Several other friends are also laid to rest in the Memorial Park.
After saying several prayers there, I went back to my hosts’ house and joined them for a cup of peppermint tea. Telahoun and Brooke Molla were proprietors of an Ethiopian restaurant in Tempe, when I lived in Phoenix. We enjoyed the fare there, a few times, and became friendly with the family. It was a delightful surprise to find them living at DRBI, with their youngest child.
PROMOTION: Desert Rose is looking for energetic, sustainability-oriented xeriscapers or those trained in permaculture. The kitchen garden and a tree-planting campaign are the current foci of self-sustaining volunteers. Spiritual open-mindedness is a plus. So, too, is being able to innovate ways to deal with extended periods of high heat (Upwards of 118 F, in the height of summer.) The adobe homes do offer protection and there are two swimming pools. A large bank of solar panels helps to provide power.
January 8, 2025- The ongoing saga of people settling in and around Los Angeles, for either a life of leisure or for pursuit of a fine, active regimen, and finding that Mother Nature has other ideas, has reached crisis proportions even more dire than in any past year. Perhaps it is due to the increased density of population, from even the 1990s-2010s, or just a consequence of rising global temperatures, but it seems worse.
Here at Home Base I, there was a brief period of snow, in the higher elevations, southwest of town and in the Santa Marias, to our northwest, but here in the downtown area, just a few sprinkles fell, late last night. We, like, California, are facing a Big Dry-at least until March. There is, of course, plenty of water-on paper, but I digress. The ultimate test of hydration for a community is if the taps start to trickle. Who knows if and when that will happen.
Life on the ground here remains fairly predictable, but on the larger scale, we may be seeing seismic changes, in short order, and it feels at times like the news cycle is whipsawing, back and forth. I have learned, though, that as long as the markets are open and there are no manufactured crises hitting too close to home, that we can each do our civic duty, show kindness to others-especially those most vulnerable and continue to speak our peace.
These things came to mind, this afternoon, as we considered another strange and unsettling time in our recent past: September, 2001. The teacher recalled his own experiences during that time, as a security guard in Phoenix. His wife was working in the tallest building in the city, at that time. He made a beeline to get her home, as soon as he saw what had happened in New York and at the Pentagon. In my case, I had no work that day, but heard over the radio about the first tower strike and also headed straight home, being glued to the TV screen most of the day. Penny and Aram went to their respective schools, which were let out early, as many parents were beside themselves, with “what ifs” and doomsday scenarios. I was just as glad they came home.
Stay aware, friends, and stay close to those you love-in California, in the frigid eastern half of the country and anywhere else that may be suffering in this winter of heightened challenge.
January 7, 2025- The animated teacher spoke of a calamitous event in our nation’s recent history. He wanted to remind the adolescent students, themselves only vaguely aware of that particular incident, just how fleeting such memories can be, and how easily they can be manipulated by those with ulterior motives. This conversation will continue tomorrow, and perhaps for several more days.
The freedom we have in this country is worth cherishing. So are the love and friendship that have been built, sometimes over decades. So are the gifts that the Divine has imparted to each of us. I thought of these things all day, as once again, I was placed in a setting where I could focus on one or two students at a time, and key in on the boy or girl and specific needs. I will do this for the next two days, as well. Part of the task is to support the teachers in their explanations and foci. Thus do I go forward.
In an evening orientation, for a Baha’i family who are moving to one of the Native American communities where Penny, Aram and I once lived, I also focused on what is cherished by First Nations people. There are friends in that area who I have not seen for several years and others from whom I hear, every so often. The reality, though, is that were I to return to the place, I would be at least welcomed by some, as if I had never left. That is what I wish for this new family, provided they open their hearts to the people.
I will likewise always cherish the friendships I have made here in the Prescott area, over nearly fifteen years. Regardless of what transpires, these next several months, this will always be a Home Base of my heart. The same will be true of the Philippines, no matter how things turn out on my next visit.
Life is for the cherishing, not for the expectancy.
January 6, 2025- The day in Washington came and went, with scarcely a murmur. The will of the people, albeit by way of plurality, was acknowledged and for the second time in our nation’s history, the losing standard bearer of a major party was the person certifying the election of a rival. Albert Gore, Jr. did that very thing, on 1/6/01 and Kamala Harris did so today. The institution of the American republic, a form of democracy, was the winner.
It made me think of other institutions: Parenthood, grandparenthood, marriage, community, corporation, formal education, personhood. Each has its rules and practices, which are its underpinnings. Those who challenge any one of the institutions, on its face, are exhibiting an inclination towards mayhem. That does not mean that the institution should be impervious to change. Our Constitution is replete with the amendment process, for the very reason that the government of 1788, or 1861, cannot possibly address all the needs of 2025. Familial institutions, likewise, have the duty to their members, to regularly communicate across the roles of parent, spouse, child, sibling-and even grandparent, so that the personhood of any given member is not trampled or sacrificed.
In the institution of the school, there is a trust between teacher and student. Today, my role as substitute teacher was a special position of trust: A new semester, a new term, was starting. The regular teacher had a last minute emergency, and though today was the start of a major activity, his life had to take its course. I was able to dust off the cobwebs of my technological savvy and get the basic activities started. The task in question was a vocational education exercise, which will last for two weeks. Those who recognized its import-the majority of students, thankfully, set themselves to the task, some choosing to work in small groups and others on their own. Thus are the members of one institution, the school, beginning to prepare for membership in another, the workforce.
It remains my honour to offer support to institutions, holding up their traditions when the good of the order warrants and working to effect change, when the converse is true.
January 1, 2025- The format of the opening gives its message loud and clear: This is a place where YOU decide to go forward, or not. The half-gate, in Coconino National Forest, behind Sedona Red Rock Junior/Senior High School, offers entry to trails leading up Scheuerman Mountain and along the Scorpion-Pyramid route. Hiking Buddy and I chose to do the Scheuerman.
The gate that isn’t a gate.
So began the Year of the Open Gate. What I do this year is totally open-ended. I have plans and goals for the the first four weeks of the year: Spend next week working, in Prescott schools; visit friends in San Diego and Orange County, the following week; focus on Racial Healing and Justice, during Martin Luther King Day and its preceding/following days.
It is the end of January and the first half of February though, that will set the tone and the agenda, for the rest of the year and beyond. I will be in the Philippines, from January 28-February 18. That could well be the precursor to a major change in my life. The central message of a show I just finished watching, (“The Outpost”), is that each of us is responsible for making wise and independent choices, but I knew that. We will see what choices are made at that time.
Regardless, this year will see me constantly on the move-no surprise there-and ever in the company of family and friends. Plan A involves one set of moves and downsizing. Plan B involves other travel, and still some downsizing. Details will come as we go along, for reasons of prudence. This is not a year for announcing grand plans ahead of time.
In closing, here are some scenes from Scheuerman Mountain and Vista.
The icons of Sedona: Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, Courthouse Butte, Chicken Point and Airport Mesa are all visible from Scheuerman Vista.
December 13, 2024- It was Acker Night, tonight, in downtown Prescott. This is an annual fund drive for Music Education, supporting programs in everything from dance to choral singing and a jazz quartet. The second Friday in December is thus an especially heartwarming night, the chill air aside.
I walked around downtown, stopping first at American Legion Post 6, to listen to a few songs by a couple of Post members and starting my “rounds” of contributions to the fund. After being admonished that “downtown is a long way”(It is a half mile from the Post to Courthouse Square), I walked down the hill. As long as I still can manage, walking is a joy. I feel for those who no longer can, though.
In a small alcove, at Lifeways Book Store, a bilingual singer offered several tunes with a Southwest flavour. In his rendition of Ray Charles’ “Seven Spanish Angels”, he sang both the English and Spanish lyrics. The singer told of his having studied the songs in his repertoire, and having “corrected” Mr. Charles’s Spanish translation-to make it flow better. Since he lived and worked for a time in Veracruz, I figured he knew what he was doing.
I walked the south side of the Square for a bit, listening to a choral group doing Christmas carols, then walking around to the north side, where a dance ensemble was doing a “Rockette-style line dance, to Kay Starr’s “The Man With The Bag”. A couple of beginner dance groups followed with “Silent Night” and “White Christmas”.
Finally, it was off to Raven Cafe and a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, which soothed whatever remnants I had of Wednesday night’s stomach flu. The featured artist for the evening, Kendra Vonderheide, gave a solid hour of mostly original tunes, saying that these were her way of releasing pent-up energy, after a three-hour drive from her hometown of Bisbee. Kendra complimented those who wore Santa hats and reindeer antlers. Arizona’s “Christmas City” would offer no less. It was another fabulous step forward for music education in our area.
Here is Ray Charles, with Willie Nelson, performing “Seven Spanish Angels”.
October 29, 2024- I “worked” today, basically being a warm certified body, covering for a friend who needed to be in another room at her school, so as to focus on Individual Education Plans (IEPs), which I well remember are the bane of a Special Needs teacher’s existence. (Penny was a long-time SPED teacher.) My biggest challenge was to keep myself occupied, as the long-time and well-regarded Paraprofessional tended to all the instructional activities. I re-read just about all of H.G. Wells’ “The Time Machine”, (one of my favourite novels, in my teenage years) and took a couple of surveys, regarding my daily routine as a High Functioning Autistic person. Seems I have few of the issues that I once had, especially in connecting with other people and in staying on task.
I also have reflected on my recent journey to the Philippines. A few times, I felt that things were a bit too rushed, especially the last day. K, though, was more concerned about my getting to the airport on time-and on most occasions, it’s well-advised to allow four hours, prior to an international flight. So, my beloved was acting out of love, as she has for the past year. I am in love with a complete human being, not with an idea, as I explained to someone who had said “Maybe you’d be better off with _____________, than with K.” No, I wouldn’t, necessarily. Kathy communicates in subtleties and in statements of loving concern. I am more effusive with my terms of endearment. Her love is expressed in her eyes and smile.
I have mentioned that, when traffic signals change, the pedestrian signals, both red and green, are timed. Filipinos, both on motorcycles and in automobiles/trucks, are careful to NOT hit pedestrians. There is a subtle communication between driver and walker, in most cases. When I am crossing the street with Kathy, though, I am between her and the vehicles, and my outside hand goes up. No one will hurt my beloved. Otherwise, I rely on that subtle communication.
When in a community, I participate in events that are dear to my friends. Thus, I was at the funeral of a woman I never met. She was one of Kathy’s Baha’i mentors, which alone made it important for me to be present. She was also a major contributor to the well-being of the Philippine Baha’i community. Thus, I had lunch with the renovation crew at the Manila Baha’i Center, every day that I was in the neighbourhood. Mom taught us that no one was either above or below us, in terms of occupation or social status. I have lived this, for seventy-three years.
Attention to subtleties is also good for the mindfulness that helps to avoid dementia. That, and a diet based on fresh and unadulterated foods and beverages, has kept me pretty sharp, at least for the past forty years. There is no accounting for how I was as a child or teenager, not to mention as a young adult.
I am just about done with the jet lag that seemed to be more intense, this time around. Still, I haven’t missed any subtle hints.
A Sagittarian Seeker 