The Road to Diamond, Day 38: Cycles

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January 5, 2025- I have listened to two very different takes on this calendar year. The one, of which I wrote yesterday, was made with a hokey presentation but came across as very hopeful, though it involved other galaxies and beings of questionable status. The second, made by a cosmic advisor who is very much grounded in reality, pointed out that this is a year of simultaneous endings of old relationships and processes, and beginnings of new ones. 2024 was certainly a dress rehearsal for that, with the passing of my mother and several longtime friends. The speaker this morning said to remain grounded in a strong soulship, and not to be depressed or downhearted by any rapid changes in relationships, even if they are with those dearly loved. Other relationships and processes will replace those that end. Most importantly, she said it was never necessary to channel energy externally. All the strength one needs is within.

I reflected on my life up to now, not in a rigid decade-by-decade manner, but in terms of actual cycles. 1950-1964 was a time of firsts, and of thinking that I didn’t deserve a whole lot. So, when I did get nice things, I used them for a short time, then set them aside, except my books and records. Bicycles, weight sets, even a junior chemistry set, all were used just a bit, then set aside in the closet or downstairs, or in the case of the bikes-given to my siblings. I didn’t think I deserved friends, and so spent much time alone. It wasn’t until that became counterproductive, in eighth grade, that I started to rethink the matter.

1964-1968, the high school years, was a time of discovering the love I had for other people. Though I still regarded myself as unworthy (a sense that would be my shadow until fairly recently), grades were kept up, school events like dances drew me out and I worked at a job or two, with minimal success.

1969-1980 was a period of self-loathing. I functioned, but just barely, serving in a position of fair responsibility in the U.S. Army; earning Associate and Bachelor Degrees, being in the middle of my class in each; and working at both teaching and a smattering of part-time jobs, while still not exactly excelling at any of them.

1981-1997 was a high water mark. I earned a Master’s Degree, met and married my first true love, sired and raised a child, and actually made a difference in my professional work. Much of this came about because I embraced the Baha’i Faith, and in turn, embraced sobriety. The self-loathing was still there, but kept under wraps.

1998-2013 found me floundering again. My beloved was suffering and in declining health, and I was facing my own demons, though maintaining sobriety, helping our son navigate adolescence and fend off those who wanted to hurt him, and acting as my wife’s caretaker. Jobs came and went, but substitute teaching was my saving grace, and kept us with food on the table and a roof over our heads. For two years after Penny died, my struggles continued, until I finally began to regard myself as worthy of true self-respect.

2014-2024 has been another period of rising. I have rediscovered our country and the world, established genuine friendships and gained the respect of those who knew me when. Public service, mostly volunteer work, has helped me feel like a worthy part of a community. Most importantly, though, my self-loathing is gone. In maturity, I have faced down five people who tried to take away my self-esteem and embraced those who truly have my best interests at heart.

This year finds me at a crossroads. Someone dear to me may, or may not, be part of my future. She has her own path to follow. Either way, I am in a good place and am ready for whatever comes-continuity or seismic change. Never again will I blame myself, or anyone else, for what comes to pass. Everyone is on a journey all their own, and each deserves support from the others.

I briefly considered including Frank Sinatra’s song, “Cycles”, with this post. It doesn’t quite sum up my mood though. Instead, here’s Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”.

The Road to Diamond, Day 36: Downsized

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January 3, 2025- The first box of books went to Prescott Public Library’s “Friends of the Library” book sale. A second box will go there, either tomorrow, or Monday, after work. Some other books will be offered to a friend and still others will go to my little family, when I visit them in April.

It takes a lot for this lifelong bibliophile to let go of any literary work. Storage and shipping, though, are reality checks-and if a oenophile I know and love can let go of a wine collection, I can do the same with my books. Other items will also be dispensed-either donated or sold at a discount, by the end of April.

To be clear, I remain in good health, so a curtain call is not the reason for this shedding. It’s the energy that says a move is in the air. Whether to one place or to another is still to be determined, but the call is getting more insistent. I’m happy in Home Base I, yet there is much more to do, on a wider scale. Details will be released as I get a clearer sense.

As for today, I visited another place where the staff seem unified and appreciated: Theodore’s Fine Foods, a bagel and croissant eatery that has moved into a corner lot that has had problems retaining its tenants, since a long-time restaurateur retired in 2014. T’s looks like it will be successful. Its bagel sandwich menu is small, but imaginative, and I enjoyed a Turkish bagel with sofra sausage. T’s sweet treats include a cruffin, which is a croissant muffin, that has a custard filling. The place was quite full while I was there, affirming that it is making a go of success.

My soon-to-be minimalist status in Prescott will nonetheless continue on a cheerful and welcomed note.

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.

The Road to Diamond, Day 30: Whimsy and Well-Being

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December 28, 2024- I have had pipe dreams, throughout my life. I once fantasized about walking across the globe. Then, I read of various women and men, including Paul Salopek (who is still at it), and thought of all I would be leaving behind, if I set out on such a venture. At the age of 74, doing such a thing would be little more than performance art. Other whimsies involved the Colorado Fourteeners (peaks that are 14 K feet or above); traveling from Utgiagvik (formerly Barrow), Alaska to Cabo de Hornos, Chile; the Appalachian, Continental Divide and Pacific Crest Trails and, for a few fleeting moments, Uelen, eastern Siberia to Cape Agulhas, South Africa.

As the years have passed, I found fulfillment in “lesser” pursuits. I have traveled a lot, yes, but with more of a purpose. Mainly, I found that being closer to family, taking part in a community over time and serving my Faith were more satisfying than always being alone. I learned from nearly thirty years of marriage-thirteen of which were spent caring for Penny, to one extent or another, that life never feels fulfilling, unless there is a deep connection with another soul. She’s been physically gone for nearly fourteen years, but is not gone. I sense her spiritual hand is behind my meeting another love, little more than a year ago. I got a message from K this morning, in fact. She’s as busy as I am, each in our own Home Base. It could come to pass that we have the same Home Base, but we’ll see.

My main reason for not being preoccupied with the stuff of whimsy, though, is that this is the age of working for peace, through group efforts. I’ve done more good this way. Even going through the torment that accompanied watching the declines of my first two loves (Mother and Penny) is preferable to living a dissolute existence. So will my work continue.

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 20: Watchful

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December 18, 2024- I have been asked by a few people whether I am nervous about the Stock Market, in December. No, actually; I am more amused by the knee-jerk behaviour, “Close to Christmas? Let’s unload!” No one over the age of 50, who has done anything right financially, is going to enter a swooning contest over the end-of-year follies. We wait until January, and we go on.

I remain more watchful of those who make outlandish promises. The more promises they make and the larger their constituency, the closer an eye I keep on them. Of course, as the smarter ones walk back their more outlandish gift items, my relaxation meter goes up accordingly.

I am grateful for my loved ones who are watchful of me, as well. Penny always kept me on the straight and narrow, as long as she was cognitively able. My little family and siblings weigh in, when they feel the necessity. My best friend now is not shy about speaking out, when she sees a possible mistake coming.

So, while getting ready for delightful holidays, let us all relax-while keeping an eye on things that may really get in the way of the Season-and stay in support of one another.

The Road to Diamond, Day 16: Privilege

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December 14, 2024- Caitlin Clark, a White woman who some other White women love to hate, commented on her own selection as Athlete of the Year, pointing out that much of her success in life has come from having enjoyed privilege. This stung both those who themselves enjoy semi-royal perks and those who have struggled to so much as put food on the table. I don’t know Caitlin Clark, or any other professional athlete, for that matter, but I do know White people who enjoy privilege and several who do not. I, myself, have been in both categories, at different times in my life-enough to know that one can be traded for the other, at a moment’s notice.

To her credit, Ms. Clark calls on the public to show respect for the many athletes of colour who have built her League-the WBNA. This, too, has offended those who still don’t see beyond their own narrow circumstances. More’s the pity. My life has been made all the richer, by having people of all “colours” and ethnicities in my life. Not all of them have been friendly, but each has imparted an opportunity for me to build personal strength.

I see the entitled ones, each day. Some are White; some are people of colour. They tend to not want to have much to do with people like me, and that’s okay. I look in their eyes and see deadness, shadow. My friends are those whose eyes and faces radiate emotion-mostly caring, joie de vivre. The entitled ones radiate nothing. Their whole being is transactional and they only associate with those from whom they can derive benefit. The rest of us are seen as impediments.

My people are those whom the wirepullers and elitists have trampled, or have deluded into doing the trampling for them. My people are those who have struggled, and yet they keep on trying. They either have transcended the lie, or will transcend it. It has nothing to do with income level, or race, mind you. I know of at least one person of colour, here in Prescott, who only associates with the elites. I know many White people of achievement, including in my own family, who would give the shirts off their backs to the suffering. It is about character, and nothing else.

The vast majority of those I have met, are my people. I kind of think that Caitlin Clark would be one of them.

The Road to Diamond, Day 2: Fort Worth

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November 30, 2024, Grapevine- Donnie Wahlberg took our order, at Tokyo Cafe, carefully serving the Miso Soup, Yakisoba, Tokyokonomiyaki (savory, creamy pancake) and eel roll. Of course, it was one of Donnie’s look-alikes. He did a fine job, bringing us our late lunch.

Yesterday was spent on the northern edge of Dallas, so today was Fort Worth’s turn. Our center was Cowtown’s Botanic Garden, a sprawling gem, whose own centerpiece is the Japanese Garden. We were set on wandering mode, starting with Tropical Garden, an indoor setting, given this area’s late Fall temperatures-soon to be followed by a wintry mix. There are both tropical and subtropical flora, including a Philippine banana tree.

Banana tree, found in the Philippines and Malaysian Borneo.

Our meanderings took us past a children’s garden, so we stopped and posed as cookies.

The Gingerbread Trio

Next, was a Kokedama Forest.

Two rows of Kokedama (above and below)

Kokedama is a Japanese botanic art, involving growing plants in a moss-covered ball of soil, contained by a web of string or monofilament fishing line.

Fort Worth has a sister city in Japan: Nagaoka. A symbol of resilience was sent to the Garden, by citizens of Nagaoka. Here is a Mikoshi, topped by the figure of a phoenix.

Most poignant is the Seven Pillars Monument, a tribute to soldiers who served in Viet Nam, in 1967. A lone soldier wrote to the people of Fort Worth, asking that someone acknowledge the sacrifices being waged by his comrades. The community responded with an outpouring of food and personal hygiene supplies. Seven of the soldiers made it home. Five did not. Thus, there are seven standing pillars and five “broken” ones.
The Call for Help, answered by Fort Worth.

This park promises to be a favourite of Aram and Yunhee. I will also want to stop by, when I am out this way next Spring.

Large koi pond, Japanese Garden

The Road to Diamond-Day 1: Cedar Ridge

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November 29, 2024, Grapevine- The three of us stood, overlooking Cattail Pond, as if it were the Pacific Ocean. In Dallas, any body of water will fill that bill. We took this 4-mile loop, after finishing off most of yesterday’s left overs, at today’s lunch.

Cattail Pond (Above and below)

Each trip around the Sun brings a theme, of sorts. Today begins a two-year stretch, centered on the notion of Diamond Jubilee-the road to that date (11/28/25), and the journey on the hard rock plateau, that follows the Jubilee. I’ve been asked, by at least one friend, how my travel plans are shaping up for 2025. The only things that are certain are that I will spend three weeks with my special someone and our circle of friends,in Home Base III, for three weeks: Late January to mid-February. From then on, I will again be in constant travel mode, save for a few key dates in the Spring that will tie things up at Home Base I. The scope and direction of my journeys will depend on what happens in February, but there will be much work to get done, regardless.

For the next few days, though, I am soaking up family love, at HB II. Partly because of my birthday having been celebrated and because of a general celebration of Thanksgiving, I have been in constant touch with friends in Prescott and the Philippines, and by extension, across the globe. It is salubrious and I thank everyone, near and far, who has taken the time to honour my life. It takes three seconds to type a “Thank you”, so that’s what I’ve done. (Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, by contrast, wrote out hundreds of Thank You notes, in pen and ink, after each event to which she was invited, or which was held in her honour. She always was, and is, the gold standard).

Cedar Ridge is a remnant of glacial fingers extending down into the north Texas prairie, and leaving this pleasing network of hillocks and ravines, as a contrast to the sweeping riparian Plains. We had our share of short, but steep, climbs and descents. Thanks to the Audubon Society, I can’t think of a better way to “recover” from Thanksgiving Feast, part I and part II.

The sweep of Cedar Ridge Preserve, Dallas

A Year of Beauty; A Year of Release

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November 27, 2024, Grapevine- This was the year that Mom went home to Dad and to her parents, siblings and youngest son. This was the year that we lost Marcia, Michele, Cousin David, Johnny and Verne. It seemed like a thousand celebrities went home to our Maker, whether they said they believed in Him or not.

It seemed for a time, that we would follow Mexico’s lead, and actually elect a woman as President-but that was not to be. Other forces have to run their course, and marginalized people have to feel that they truly matter and are heard. Other marginalized people will need to keep making their voices heard. As a friend said, after the election, the true gap is between classes, not races. There is much to be said for that notion.

I went clear across the continent, to Newfoundland and St.Pierre/Miquelon. Later, it was time to go northwestward, to Vancouver Island’s west coast and to the Sunshine Coast of British Columbia. There was time, in between and afterward, to pay respects to the woman who brought me into this world, and to be there when she left it.

In autumn’s colours and light, I left this continent for the longest period of time since I spent ten months in VietNam, so long ago. A good part of my heart stayed in the Philippines and waits there for me to return, early next year. The call to duty in Home Base I is also strong. I was, and am, determined to make the most of time I have there, that the Love of Baha’u’llah will be felt more strongly in that swath of north central Arizona.

Small gaps were closed this year. I spent time in a place that was central to the first stages of the American War for Independence; honoured a First Nations people, in two Canadian provinces and two others, on the opposite side of the country; spent a Baha’i Holy Day in the first House of Worship built in the Western Hemisphere; visited the most temperate place in the Philippines, and the westernmost part of that country; paid the last money owed on two credit accounts. I went to the top of Astoria Column, and later watched “The Goonies”, which was set in that mouth of the Columbia River. I saw whales swimming in the wild. I overcame some lingering doubts about myself.

So now, 73 is saying goodbye, and its successor promises to usher in a year of fruition, in place of this year of effort and struggle. A bit of 2024 remains, and there are goals to be reached in December. I will think further on them, as 74 marches in, tomorrow.