September 13, 2024, Manila- There are two schools of thought about Friday the 13th. One holds that both Friday and the number 13 augur badly. The other counters with the cultural artifact that the day is named for Freya, Norse goddess of love, war and fertility. It also is deemed unlucky, in Norse mythology, as Loki the Trickster was the thirteenth Norse god.
The Vikings may have given themselves reason to be conflicted about Friday the 13th, but I personally have never had any hard luck associated with the day. This day was no different. I was able to extend my time at Ola! Hostel, my dear friend arranged a nice group outing for tomorrow, as well as help me get a bus ticket for a visit to central Luzon, late next week. and I was able to join a study group from Arizona online.
Most of the day was quotidian, otherwise, but that has never been a bad thing. I helped with shopping, at an open air market and house sat, while the Baha;i Cnter’s caretaker went to tend to another matter.
September 8, 2024- I had a full morning and early afternoon, with an excellent breakfast at Post 6, then ninety minutes or so of conversation with some line mates waiting for Empty Bowls to open their “gate”. The fund raiser for Prescott area Food Banks and Pantries has taken place every year since 1997. I have volunteered in the past, but today, I was one of the multitude who purchased a bowl, and two servings of soup. There were fourteen types of soup, from seafood gumbo to charred peach. I took a helping of gumbo, then an old favourite- garden minestrone. Local Girl Scouts were present in force-minding the recycling area and washing/drying our bowls-loudly advertising their services, for about two minutes, until they were gently advised to let the signage do the work.
I chose carefully, from a wide selection of beautiful bowls. The basin reflects life itself-half polished and half rough.
The outside evokes basket weaving, both First Nations and indigenous Filipino. It is, though, very much glazed ceramic.
Afterwards, I had a small meal with Hiking Buddy, introducing her to Lazy G, before heading back to Home Base to continue packing for tomorrow’s Prescott-Phoenix-Los Angeles leg, which will of course be followed on Tuesday/Wednesday, to Hong Kong and Manila.
Prescott in the Fall offers an almost continuous array of festivals, so local readers and would-be visitors, consider:
Hope Fest- September 14, at Courthouse Square. This day-long event features a variety of community services, from Legal Aid to haircuts, family entertainment and inspirational music. It’s free.
Prescott Powwow- September 20-22, at Watson Lake, has a theme of “Elders Embracing the Youth”. I have attended twice in the past, and found it a strong expression of First Nations values. There is a $5 parking fee, and food trucks are onsite.
Prescott Valley Harvest Festival- October 5, at Prescott Valley Civic Center, one of many Harvest Festivals in the area, in early October. This is the one that is presently being advertised. It, too, is free.
Prescott Plein Air Festival- This series of art exhibitions takes place from September 17-October 13, in locations from Yavapai College to Highlands Nature Center. No mention of any admission fee.
Prescott Highland Games and Celtic Faire- September 28-29, at Watson Lake. Tickets are $15 for an adult day pass and $30 for an adult weekend pass, at the gate. Discounts for on-line booking and for seniors/students/military. https://www.prescottareacelticsociety.com/ticket-prices/
Besides these, there are several concerts featuring Country Music, Christian Music and several other genres. Home Base is never dull.
Grace be unto the angels who watch over me. Mom and Dad, Penny, Brian, Bunny and Norm, my grandparents, friends Marcia, Gordon, Margaret, Sallie, John H. They bring blessings to this small spiritual center.
Grace and benevolence to those who seek to oppress, that they may make a turn from their pursuit of power, vengeance, retribution, hegemony. May they see the value of unconditional love.
Grace, protection and guidance be to the children and youth, that they may realize their dreams, and bring about a convergence like those which have been tried, so often in the past.
Grace and beneficence to the dour, the tired and the disconsolate, that they may see the beauty and joy that they have overlooked, in the course of their viewing work as drudgery, as a necessary evil.
Grace be unto all the Universe, that every element, every creature be mindful, heartfelt of the Source that brought us all into being.
It was a good day today. The kids and I struggled a bit, with some features of the technological program, but all worked together and we accomplished the tasks. That was the morning, followed by a hearty curried chicken lunch. An evening meeting, of one of the organizations whose leadership I had found a bit oppressive, proved quite welcoming and joyful-with more people in attendance, who had previously avoided “the club”. The leaders themselves were far more cordial than in the recent past. Maybe they are feeling more optimistic, and therefore more expansive.
September 3, 2024- The old reminiscing intelligence officer, in the currently-playing film “Reagan”, speaks at one point of the reason people give their lives: “Not for the nation, nor for the Party, the State, or even for God-but for one another. ” It rings true: Behind every sacrifice, there is loyalty to a loved one, or maybe several- Parents for children, and vice versa; siblings for one another; friends, likewise and, occasionally, a few noble souls for their compatriots as a group.
After a recent non-verbal dust-up between me and someone with a more elitist view of life, several friends have asked if there is anything they might do to help. There isn’t, really, and the best thing for me to do is to let the other person alone, and let time do its thing. Personality differences rarely get resolved through intervention, shaming or castigation. People are the sum total of their experiences, plus all that DNA. Only internal processing and heart transformation can lead to a turn-around. Only that turn-around can make someone loyal to others beside self. Besides, I have to fall back on the message of one of Sportage’s bumper stickers: “Love your enemies and you won’t have any”.
My own loyalty to anyone besides myself and my immediate family came late, and came hard. Only giving up alcohol really changed my temperament, and even then, it was Penny’s love, and the Baha’i teachings, that brought my heart more into awareness of a larger circle of humanity. Beforehand, my concern for the human race was present in the background, surfacing on occasion-and therefore coming across as contrived, mainly because internally it was an abstraction.
Now my layered loyalty is what sustains me, both emotionally and physically.
August 23, 2024- The little girl introduced herself, about ten minutes after the first group of students came in. When I told her of a newborn baby who shared her name, she shrugged and said “There are a lot of us”.
There was much that was matter-of-fact about this group of children. Even the most squirrely of kids were most responsive when expectations were clearly stated, and most resistant, when they thought I was listening to tattle tales. Those last were discouraged from their snooping and the wayward ones settled down.
Today was a shorter work day, so it took no adjustment to go over and pick up my healed Lenovo, which basically just needed to be cleaned up, internally. We are all set for the next few months, which will be quite full of the unexpected, even aside from my journey across the Pacific.
My family achieved another milestone, of a nature personal to my siblings and me. This is just one less matter that might have been irritating. It was handled professionally and well. It gives me confidence that we are each on the right track in our respective lives.
Another well-lived week has passed, giving more strength for what lies ahead.
August 11, 2024, Phoenix- This was the opening sentiment, expressed as a chant, by a devotional singer, as our second day of study of a document on bringing our Baha’i communities’ actions into sync with the true needs of society unfolded.
My main task, this morning, was to take notes for a breakout session, so I determined to be a lot more careful in my printing and to use the cursive writing that was instilled in me by Mom, at a very young age. Practice noble things.
My dear friend, across the ocean, told me of concerns she has. Her troubles are my troubles, so I will do what I can to bring resolution to those that I can, and find help for the things that are beyond my capacity. Practice noble things.
At the end of the gathering, several of us joined the volunteer kitchen staff and made sure the food was stored or prepared for distribution to the unhoused, the coffee and tea were dumped and the vessels cleaned and that the chairs were properly put back. Practice noble things.
Once back in Home Base I, tomorrow and for the next four weeks, there will be activities that will bring to bear a determination to- Practice noble things.
Small and large; commonplace and novel; with friends, family and all those extended kin that we call acquaintances and strangers-Practice noble things.
August 6, 2024, Holbrook, AZ- The little girl peeked out, from behind the screen door, as I was speaking with her grandmother, on the family’s porch. She quickly figured I was no threat and came outside smiling, with a hint of mischief on her face. Her t-shirt said “Fierce”, and that is how I remember her mother, who is away on personal business, when she was a child. The present child began to emulate a tiger kitten and paw at the air, with a mini-hiss. In time, and with her family’s continued guidance, she will be fierce-in a good way, the way her mother, at her best, has been.
This was a day spent under a sometimes ferocious sun, looking for gravesites that were not catalogued or mapped-and dependent only on the memory of a mutual friend to me and the decedents. In the end, I did not find either resting place, leaving one flower vase at the lonely, unattended grave of a combat veteran (Afghanistan, 2015) and keeping the other for placement tomorrow, at the tomb of a friend who died nearly forty years ago. It was hot and dusty, at both cemeteries, and I noted both well-kept, love-saturated gravesites and untended, often unmarked, plots, often next to one another. Wind and wild animals have taken their tolls.
I see ferocity as something that is rising, in the life of the world-both good (self-affirmation and love for others) and ill (self-aggrandizement and disdain for those who are different). I see once good-hearted and loving people turn sour and hateful, and I wonder what happened in their lives to make bitterness so appealing. My own life has had its share of trouble an disappointment- but much of that came from my own doing, and the part that wasn’t my fault was shared with a good many other people. I am fortunate to have been raised by sensible and loving parents, in a large extended family and in a close-knot neighbourhood, where any given child was “raised by the village”.
I drove across the Navajo and Hopi Reservations, as the ferocious sun was supplanted by monsoon rain. It was raining, as I left the second cemetery, stopped by the house mentioned above and while I stopped for dinner, at Keams Canyon Cafe, where I had many a meal during my residence in the area, in the mid and late ’90s. It was raining again, when I got here to the Motel 6, chosen after I noted that Keams Canyon Motel had been razed, since I was there last.
The world is fierce, in nature and in everyday life. Let us be equal in ferocity, in the best sense of that word.
August 1, 2024- Years ago, a little girl in one of my classes protested: “Mister Gary, him being wude (sic)!” There actually was a basis in fact for her complaint, but for one thing: The boy’s rudeness was directly in response to her rude behaviour towards him. The problem was only resolved over time, by the staff modeling politeness towards one another and towards the students, sometimes despite the kids’ impolitic.
We have had a spate of public commentary, lately, pointing fingers at certain figures for “being rude”, when they are merely being blunt or direct, in their criticism or questioning. Others are enjoying poking fun at what they see as “weird” behaviour, even if the behaviour in question has not been substantiated, and is reported as “rumour has it that……”.
I remember watching a cartoon, when I was about ten years old. Bandleader Don Redman did a short cartoon, featuring his song,”I Heard”, which obliquely dealt with conjecture among coal miners eating lunch in a cafe. Mom was no fan of jazz, back then, especially on a children’s cartoon, but she said that Redman had a point-People should not make assumptions about anything, based on rumour. Her mantra was ” ‘I thought’ once got a man killed”. We were always encouraged to think things through and get the facts, before heading down the wrong path.
I get the temptation to take the low road, sometimes just because of fatigue or insecurity. The higher ground is, however, the only place where we are unlikely to be flooded by the dirty rivers of misinformation and character assassination. Truthfulness can keep us on the right path. Falsehood, even with the best intentions, can only be a destructo beam.
July 31, 2024- Today would have been my parents’ 75th wedding anniversary-their Diamond Jubilee. As always, I took time to recall so many life lessons and watchwords they each imparted, over the years. They both were fond of singing. Mom had a most melodious voice; Dad’s was pleasant and joyful. He would come down the stairs singing “You call everybody darlin’, and everybody calls you darlin’, too”. The verse was from a jaunty song by Al Trace and his band (1948), and the full message was aimed at those who toss out loving words without meaning them. Dad meant his words-both approving and disapproving. He was a man of principle.
They gave us roadmaps- for financial security, for stability in a relationship and for recovering from hardship. Much of this came from their having been raised in a time of deprivation and war. In my younger, more dissolute days, I admit to downplaying their admonitions. Once I was no longer “young and naive”, and had to face my own set of difficulties, all those watchwords came flooding back. My parents knew when to help out and when it was best to stand back and let us sort through our own problems. I try to do the same, both for my little family and for all those who share their problems.
Now, Mom and Dad are among the stars, so to speak, “diamonds in the sky”. Their spirits, along with many others, are watching through the thin veil that separates us. Their guidance will never be lost, as long as I remain lucid. That, I pray, will be for some years to come.
July 30, 2024- The intrepid bicyclist said he’d taken eight days to make the trip from Tucson, to his former residence. He happens to be a paraplegic, with pretty solid looking steel prostheses. He told me a few stories about the stately eight room home, with two stone “horse quarters” on the property (which are rented out as apartments). He lived in one of the horse quarters, but was now just waiting for the property’s owner to show up, that he might spend a few days there. Eric had come home.
I am ever in awe of people who don’t let life’s mishaps deter them from going on. Most of us plan carefully and are having to make a modicum of adjustments in our daily and long-term activities. As long as we are careful with our health, things go on as normal. The presence of those who are “differently abled”, then , can be initially jarring, but also can serve to affirm the greater goodness of all that is here for us in this life. So, we watch the Paralympics and encourage those with artificial limbs, developmental challenges and loss of sight or hearing, to the best of our abilities.
Having lived with a woman who could no longer walk, and eventually, no longer move a muscle, I can say that the inherent worth of human beings never diminishes. The love we have for each other does not depend on physical presence, or even, as I am finding out, on proximity. Our souls are ever present, until the day they are carried by our spirits to a place just on the other side of a thin veil. Baha’u’llah said that the departed souls are “closer to you than your life vein.”. Penny was always able to communicate, to the time of her departure. So, in a more limited way, was my mother. They still do, from the other side.
When I came back along, after stopping in at Raven Cafe, Eric was settled in for the night. I wished him a safe evening. He replied that he was where he needed to be, and would stay right there. Indeed, we are each, at any given moment, where we need to be.
A Sagittarian Seeker 