Rising Tides

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February 20, 2024, San Diego- The small group of European youths spoke of their concern for their countries, should certain political and military forces hold sway. I stayed out of the conversation, and an older man in the group urged them to not jump to conclusions. Nonetheless, a rising tide of personal ambition and disdain for the changes that society is undergoing is having a disconcerting effect on a good many, in the generations of young adults. There is a renewed commitment to freedom of choice and group cohesion, across the range of political opinion, among a good many in the two emerging generations of young adults. From what I’ve seen, the Alpha Generation, those born since 2010, is showing the same collaborative spirit.

There was another sort of rising tide, at Ocean Beach and at Mission Bay, throughout the day. The oceanic tide kept coming in, from early this morning, until about 4 p.m., with roiling waves propelled by the storm that dumped about an inch of rain on OB. Here are a few scenes of both morning and afternoon.

Ocean Beach Pier, at 9 a.m.
Ocean Beach, at 9 a.m.
Dog Beach, 3:30 p.m.
Dog Beach, at 3:40 p.m.
Egrets and ducks were unperturbed.

My energy tide was raised by a message, from someone I love dearly, as I woke up. It was capped by the news that my little family has successfully relocated to an apartment they like better, this evening. In between, I managed a two-mile walk, to Mission Bay and back to Rainbow House, cooked up some lobster ravioli and hosted a Zoom call, one of two meetings that punctuate this visit.

The rain has stopped and the oceanic tide, at least, has ebbed. It will be interesting to see how these other tides rise and fall.

Moving Parts, in the Land of Lincoln

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February 12, 2024- Lincoln’s Tomb is closed on Mondays. That gives the spirit of the nation’s 16th President a break from the mostly reverent, but sometimes excited visitors, to the extent that spirits need a break from mortals. Today was a day, for those who do such things, to recite the Gettysburg Address. Time was, when memorizing that speech was required in school. For some reason, that went away, before I got to the grades where it was in the curriculum. My late godmother, and eldest maternal aunt, taught me what she remembered:

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.“ 

The middle of the speech was missing from her remembrance. One reason might be that her father, a native of St. Louis, who had moved to Saugus, MA to raise his family, was quite opinionated against anything Southern. So, it fell to me to later learn that missing part: ”Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.“ 

Papa, from what I heard, felt that the two-tiered system that was segregation had made of the Black man a dissolute and shiftless burden. He remonstrated with men of colour whom he encountered, to quit standing around and follow him into work. He blamed everything on the Jim Crow laws, but thought the Blacks should stand up for themselves-and not seek handouts. I wonder what he’d have made of the Civil Rights movement, had he lived to old age. (He died in 1935, at age 53). 

Abraham Lincoln was well-regarded, by both sides of my family. In 1979, I visited his boyhood home, in Knob Creek, KY. In 1997, the three of us, Penny, Aram and I, saw what was free of the National Historic Site dedicated to him, in Springfield, IL. In 2011, I went back to Springfield and visited the National Historic Site, and New Salem State Park,, more extensively. The Tomb, though, was closed that day.

We have, as a nation, gone through several spurts of revisionist thinking, in which Lincoln’s flaws have been advanced by some, as a reason to topple him from the pedestal. He made a grave error, in sanctioning the execution of 30 Dakota men, in Mankato, MN-as the Civil War was at its zenith. He may have been influenced by lingering memories of his time in the Army, during the Black Hawk War of 1832. That would be ironic, though, as the Dakota people supported the United States, in its dispute with the Sauk. It is true that he reduced the number of people to be executed, commuting the sentences of over 60 people, but the thirty who were killed constitute the largest number ever put to death in the United States, by Presidential fiat, outside of a declared war.

It is also true that Lincoln once expressed the view that an enslaved Black person was legally 3/5 of a white man. He wrestled with that, especially after meeting and holding conversation, at length, with Frederick Douglass, a freed slave who had made good of his life. Ultimately, as we see, he determined that freeing enslaved people, first and foremost in the Confederate States, and a bit later, in the border states that were still loyal to the Union, was both the moral and the practical economic right thing. He lived to see the first, but the second occurred not long after his assassination.

I thought of both my maternal grandfather, and Mr. Lincoln, while contemplating the movement of people across national boundaries. There is, no doubt, an order to be followed, in admitting people to a nation. The common people who already live in the country need to feel that their needs are not being sacrificed for the sake of newcomers-and yet, those newcomers should not have their needs sacrificed for the comfort of the wealthy or of large corporations. This is as true of the United States as it is of any European nation, of Japan, of Canada, or of Australia, to say nothing of emerging economies.

It is, in fact, most important to help those economies to continue to emerge, if a real solution is to be found to the mass migration issue. Most people I’ve met, over the years, in countries like Mexico, Guyana, the West Bank and the Philippines, want to stay where they were raised, where their roots are-just as people in developed nations do. Most who move are fleeing lack of opportunity or lack of safety. So, the true solution, as my grandfather would probably have said, is to provide meaningful work and a safe environment, in every part of the world. THAT, rather than investment in guns, bombs and deadly chemicals, would serve to reduce the numbers of people on the move from country to country. There is much to be done, and it will likely far outlast my lifetime, but it is worth starting the process.   

Yes, I Can See

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February 3, 2024- “Can’t you see, oh, can’t you see, what that woman, Lord, been doin’ to me”– Toy Caldwell, for The Marshall Tucker Band, 1973.

Women have not been doing things to me, ever. They have either done things with me, or, in a very few instances, against me-but not to me. Likewise, I can’t say I have ever done things to anyone, female or male. My mother has only offered love, guidance (sometimes harsh) and support (often masked as a hands-off approach, giving me room to grow). My sister by blood was my first friend, and is still one of my most fervent cheerleaders. My late wife, Penny, loved me with a passion, even through times when my ego was finding its footing, and I loved her back, even through-especially through-her fading last years. 

A vast army of female friends, some as sisters, others as daughters and nieces, have arisen to support me and walk by my side, in the years since I found myself on my own. Sisters, both older and younger, with names like Janet, Valerie, Vicki, Jean, Ylona, Norlie, Tammy,Jennifer, Leah, Christina, Jacque, JayLene, Melissa, Judy, Michele, Graciela, Ks, Susan, Pam, Debra, Akuura, Kathy McF, Laureen and Marcia; daughters and nieces, both of blood and of spirit, with names like Christy, Mariela, Jackie, Brittney, Christina, Annie, Yunhee, Melanie, Rebecca, Dawne, Marina and Casey-each have been steadfast friends. 

Walking with them, and with me, is my Beloved, someone who seems to have understood me from the day we met, four months ago, and with whom I feel a preternatural fit, much like I felt with Penny. I can’t express in words alone, how grateful I am for her presence in my life. I will love her, deeply, as long as I live on this Earth-and beyond.

So, with all due respect to Toy and the guys, women have only been a blessing in my world. Those few who have given me grief, and who are never going to be mentioned by name, on this blog site, have at least taught me to tighten up on my own behaviour.

Yes, I can see, and I love you all.

Centenary, and Remembrance

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January 27,2024- The grief-stricken woman told me, and bar staff, what had happened to a beloved family member, and relayed the seemingly nonchalant reaction of someone who had once told her that he was dependable. I shared with her about my own experiences, and the current state of my life. She was heartened by both what I had experienced taking care of my late wife, Penny, and by the present state of a new love in my life. As she broke down, and needed reassurance, I hugged her, and she wished me well with the rest of my life. When she left, we briefly discussed our own reactions to her story; D’s daughter agreeing with me that an undependable friend is no friend at all. I paid for my meal, and coffee, then headed back to Home Base 1.

I thought of Penny, and how no matter the level of difficulty with her condition, I would never have left her alone, or dismissed her pain. I stayed with her, until the end of her life, and would do so again and again. I think of the new love that has appeared in my life, and know that if she needed me to be by her side, post haste, I would be there, across the ocean, as quickly as humanly possible-and stay with her, for the duration.

Today, one of the most influential men I’ve ever had the honour of knowing would have turned 100 years of age. That he was the father of my first true love as an adult, and the treasured grandfather of our son was a bonus. Norman David Fellman was, more than these, much more. He was the living symbol of the Holocaust survivors-a Jewish soldier in the U.S. Army, in the final year of World War II. He was captured by the German Army, in the southern flank of the Battle of the Bulge, kept prisoner in Berga, in a special POW unit of Jewish-, Mexican- and Romani-Americans. He survived, and when found by the U.S. Army, 97 pounds clung to his 6’1″ frame. He thrived, attended college, decided to open his own shoe business, married his life-long sweetheart, sired Penny and adopted twin girls-raising all three to be strong women. He and my mother-in-law, Ruth, were married for 65 years, until his death in 2014. (Ruth survived him by four years.) They owned and ran a farm, which tided them over, when he sold his shoe business. They raised and rode Arabian horses, teaching all three girls-and me, how to ride, and care for, those wondrous beasts. Norm was a fixture in Veterans organizations, and even made a video of his experiences, which at one point aired on national television. It must have come very hard, but he made it his mission, to ensure that the experiences of those who kept freedom alive were not forgotten.

Likewise, International Holocaust Remembrance Day was established, in 1996, on this, the day of Norm’s birth. It was a fact that gave him great satisfaction, though like the gentleman he was, IHRD became more important to the day, than his own birthday. That this remembrance has continued, despite the noise and hasty judgement heaped upon all Jews, for the actions of a relative few among them, would be a point of pride, for Norm, Ruth and Penny, were they here among us still. He would fulminate, as only he could, against all those he saw as perpetrators of injustice.

I was all too glad to have been able to help a stranger in distress, to help finish a good friend’s move, earlier in the day and to give due homage to a great man. Let us never forget the Shoah!

Restoration

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January 23, 2024- Sportage came back, this afternoon, good as new.           The black Corolla did its job, over the past four days, and has gone back to Rental Land.   My bathroom is far more spacious, relatively speaking, with excess items ready to go to the Thrift Store, or to the PASS collection point, tomorrow.                   My Nana’s family-parents and siblings-are shown with her as a 17-year-old, and Great-Nana, who was 1/4 Penobscot, in her 40s. It’s the first time I’ve seen the thirteen Gallant children with their parents. The restoration of our family tree is a long work in progress.         A friend is concerned about the course of life, once career is over and family has been raised. There needn’t be any worry. Once retirement has been announced, the community finds things for one to do, and if they don’t, then family will certainly have some ideas on the matter.

We are ever in a cycle of progress, stasis, decline and restoration. Refinement of attributes is a lifelong process and while we are readying ourselves for a spiritual journey, part of that is a big chunk of energy, spent living in Earth time. It doesn’t necessarily end with retirement-and definitely doesn’t end when the children become adults.

Progress, stasis, decline, restoration.

Ghost Ranch, Day 3: The Art of The Trim

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January 10, 2024, Ghost Ranch- Several things are predictable, so far this week: The sunrises and sets have been spectacular; the mornings and evenings are a bit on the chilly side here, and the breakfast fare consists of scrambled eggs, large sausage links (or Beyond Patties, for vegans), oatmeal and/or granola, plenty of fruit. 

I lapsed into writing “2023”, for a few days, correcting that this evening. Other unexpected resets involved remembering things that my Eighth Grade Industrial Arts teacher, as well as my father and uncles, tried so hard to convey to my squirrely teenaged self. It’s amazing, just how much I have channeled all the practicalities that I thought were useless, back in the day. 

One thing I have always done fairly well, though, is painting buildings, both inside and outside. In the past, this has helped me make ends meet in Dexter, Maine, earn a rent rebate in South Deerfield, MA and made Penny happy, when I painted the outside, and most of the rooms of our Phoenix house, before her final months on this Earth. 

Today began a three-day painting of the area that our team of three is renovating. I have the painting honours, while my co-workers wrestle with the installation of new countertops and sinks. Team Lead showed me a few of his tips on getting it right the first time, and I conjured other pointers that my Dad showed us. Today’s focus was painting along the edges, top and bottom and around extraneous spots, such as strike plates and door frames.

Focusing on trims and edges gives detail its due. My life, as civically involved and as conscious of others as I have been, has nonetheless largely been on my own. At day’s end, I have mostly answered to myself, over the past thirteen years. I sense that may be changing, within the next year or so. Right now, that’s just a hunch, a feeling welling up from gut and heart-but the last time I felt this sort of energy shift was a month before I met Penny. It’s a good feeling, and proof that there is much life left to live.

Focuses Of An Eight Universal Year

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January 2, 2024- I gave thanks, yesterday, to all who bless my life by their presence, both seen and unseen, both close at hand and far away. An Eight Universal Year is a year of acting upon what one learns during its predecessor, which is a year of reflection. So, going forward, in 2024:

Ghost Ranch- Beginning Sunday, January 7, it will be time to build on what I learned from supervising a disaster response team in Watsonville, CA, last April, as well as from the camp supervisory experience at Bellemont Baha’i School, last June. This time, though, I will be one of those supervised and the emphasis will be on applying disaster response principles and camp supervision protocols, in a preparatory situation.

Phoenix Area-In early February, it will be time to visit with Baha’i friends in Phoenix and vicinity, and see how they are applying learnings from their recent visit to Brazil, in helping to grow more vibrant and co-operative communities.

Spring Break in southern Arizona- From March 11-15, it will be time to focus on what is happening in the border region, from Bisbee and Coronado National Monument, to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, and the Tohono O’odham Nation. I want to visit with people who are impacted by what is going on there, and offer Baha’i principles to individual and group situations, as much as possible.

Prescott to Cape Breton, St. Pierre & Miquelon, and back, via the Northeast and Deep South- From April 29 (evening) to June 1-2, it will be time to re-connect with friends and family in the Midwest and Northeast, honour the Micmaq people, on the 50th Anniversary of the Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of Eskasoni, revisit friends in St. John’s and Grand Bank, NL, pay homage to the outpost of French and Breton culture in St. Pierre and Miquelon, and to the Blues culture/sacrifice of Emmitt Till, in Mississippi-also stopping to visit friends in Tennesse and Alabama.

Bellemont Baha’i School- From June 3-July 8, it will be time to focus on the summer camps that may be scheduled and on the needs of the campers and staff at our anchor property, west of Flagstaff.

Carson City and the Northwest- From July 12- August 1, it will be time to visit my extended family in Carson, and friends in Oregon, Washington and British Columbia, pay homage to Four Winds International Institute and to the First Nations of Vancouver Island, the Sunshine Coast of BC and the Yakima Nation.

The Philippines to East Africa- From September 7-21, it will be time to visit Baha’i friends and their families in Greater Manila, western Luzon, Iriga, and possibly Cagayan de Oro, on Mindanao. From September 22-November 1, it will be time to connect with Baha’i friends and their families in Kenya, northern Tanzania, Uganda, Mauritius, Reunion-and, hopefully, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. This last is not to be construed as a philanthropic effort, but an effort at strengthening cross-planetary (North America-Africa), and pan-oceanic (Philippines-Africa) networks.

Home Base 1- My efforts here remain to assist friends and community groups to continue building our own vibrant community. In spite of the appearances indicated by the above goals, much time and attention are to be devoted to Prescott and vicinity. There is plenty of time to be spent with Red Cross, Slow Food, Post 6, the local Baha’i community and friends around Yavapai County-so long as we are flexible with one another and not insisting that the wishes and goals of one person, or of a few, are to be adopted by everyone. (Friends in SoCal, Navajo-Hopi and Northern New Mexico, I will see you this year, as well).

In all this, my reasoning is that people appreciate actual time spent in their presence-whether here at Home Base 1, across North America, or across the globe. ’Abdu’l-Baha and my spirit guides assure me, on this, and that’s no “woo-woo”.

All My Relations

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January 1, 2024- Mother, who gave me life, and taught me how to love and live, may your time left on this plane be happy and satisfying, in the way you choose. I will see you in late Spring.

Brothers, both in blood and in spirit, I honour your lives, and am gratified that you honour mine. I may not do as you think I should, but know that my path is one of service-and, especially my brothers in the Home Base 1 community, know that I am not the only answer to your predicaments, or relief for your frustrations. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Lake Havasu, Flagstaff, Phoenix, Dinetah, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle, Oregon, Alaska, Toronto, Cape Breton and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sisters, both in blood and in spirit, I honour you lives and am gratified that you honour mine. I feel your love and support, and know that you will have the strength to face any fire, with resolve and dignity. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Bullhead City, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Oklahoma, Tennessee, South Dakota, Dinetah, Hopi, California, Colorado, Nevada, Oregon, British Columbia, Toronto, Cape Breton, Newfoundland, Bretagne, the Philippines (Bicol, Pasig and Palawan) and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sons and nephews, both in blood and in spirit, I honour the men you have become and hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You each have a Path of your own to follow, and I trust that Path will lead you to a place of honour, fruition and glory. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Texas, Lake Havasu, Yuma, Phoenix, Tucson, Santa Fe, San Diego, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Pennsylvania, the Philippines (Bicol, Cebu and Olongapo) and beyond, I treasure the men you have become or are becoming.

Daughters and nieces, in spirit, I honour the women you have become. I hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of how a man should treat women and girls, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You are shining lights, each with a Path of your own to follow, independent of any man, yet perhaps walking in tandem with one of your own choosing. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Williams, Dinetah, Hopi, Texas, California, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Colorado, Santa Fe, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Montreal, Jalisco, the Philippines (Paranaque and Manila) and beyond, I treasure the women you have become or are becoming.

Aunts and uncles, in blood and in spirit, I honour your examples and your untiring devotion to family and community. I only hope that I have acted in ways that have mostly brought honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Dinetah, Hopi, Tucson, New Mexico, California, Alaska, Wenatchee, and beyond, I treasure your love and support of your families.

Multitude of cousins, in blood and in spirit, I honour all that you have done, and will do, for the betterment of your families and communities. I hope I bring honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York, Missouri, Virginia, Florida, California, Colorado and beyond, I treasure your friendship and support.

My beloved new friend, I treasure the day you came into my life, and honour the path you have followed, the incredible woman you are, the family you have raised and the good you brought to your profession. I hope I bring dignity and honour to all the days of our friendship and that I am as much a blessing, and a credit, to you as you are to me. I regard your family as my own. May all goodness and well-being envelop your life in Greater Manila, or wherever you may go. See you soon.

Father, grandparents, my first True Love, youngest brother, parents-in-law and all departed relations, in blood and in spirit, you decorated my life, informed my character and continue in both respects. I feel your guidance from another Realm and hope that, by and large, I bring honour and dignity to your memory and your spiritual reality.

All my relations, you honour me, just by being.

The Small Market

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December 30, 2023- One of my Saturday staples, when here in Home Base I, is helping to break down the apparati at Farmers Market. It was a smaller affair today, and the staff was smaller as well. I was the sole break down crew member on site, so the management helped with taking down tents and folding the small tables and chairs. For the first time in memory, the market was arranged in a circle, and it was like musical stalls-vendors were placed in areas different from their usual spots. 

Most staff and vendors are happy to see me, knowing that the market is being secured. One or two are transactional, in their relationships with us, fussing and fuming if we don’t buy from them. It has become a personal issue with at least one vendor, so I am careful when around that person. Somehow, I won’t be surprised to see that vendor go.

Small minds, though, are fewer and fewer in my world-even as that world expands. A person with whom I had difficulty, several weeks ago, attended a meeting today, and was civil. I chalk that up to the power of both prayer and patience. I shut very few doors for good-and one relatively minor disagreement is not grounds for such a thing.

On the cusp of what looks to be an exceptionally active year, I find that what I view as Home Base actually fits several places. HB is a space where I can safely conduct my regular daily activities, communicate with friends and family, have reliable channels for that communication, and feel that I fully belong in the community. Home Base 1 will be Prescott, at least for the foreseeable future. HB 2 is Grapevine, as my little family is there. HB 3 is southeast Pennsylvania, with three family households and two longtime friends living less than an hour apart.  HB 4 is Massachusetts’ North Shore, with Mom living there and two siblings not far away. HB 5 is Greater Manila, with newly made friends a very strong draw. HB 6 is San Diego, where I can get an ocean “fix” and be re-energized, in the communities of Ocean Beach and Little Italy.

Much of the strength I feel, going forward, comes from what has come my way, in the past twelve months. Recap will be in the next post.

Awakening

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December 17,2023- As I sit here, writing, I am watching a film, entitled “Awaken“. In this, First Nations people, from across British Columbia are talking about their memories, and impressions of their current lives. There is talk of how the elders have given them the tools they need to sustain their lives, of how they seek reconciliation and the ability to forgive their oppressors. There is a revelation of how connected they remain, to nature, to animals.

I will, as ever, be connected, in this coming 8 Universal Year- a year of action, both individual and collective, with the Indigenous people across North America, in the Philippines and in other countries that I will visit in September and October. Dineh and Hopi figure in this next year. So do Tohono O’Odham, Maya and Shoshone (in Nevada), Tewa, Towa and Keresan (northern Puebloan), Yakima, the various nations of Vancouver Island, Sunshine Coast,and southern inland British Columbia and the Miqmaq, of Atlantic Canada.

I will be connected to children, youth and adults of all ages. I will be connected to women and men alike. Voices are getting stronger, and the people are awakening-a higher level of consciousness than the insipid term “woke” can ever signify. Where as the latter is a slogan, a cliche and a diversion, being used to distract people, by inflaming passions, the former-the rising, the increased understanding, will be deemed dangerous, by those who regard themselves as powers that be. 

The people rising is not a threat to those who sincerely want to help raise the standard of living, who truly value the input of those they serve, of those with whom they live. The people rising is only a threat to those who seek to dominate, to eliminate, to exterminate. Most of these are individuals and claques, whose consciousness is several steps removed from the lives of those they want to quash and destroy. The truly great leaders of history, and of our own time, have warned us, repeatedly, of this: Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perce, Frederick Douglass, Jose Rizal, Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Julius Nyerere, Kwame Nkrumah, John Hume, Rabbi Judah Magnes and Ali Abu Awwad, Tanya Tagaq and Autumn Peltier, Neville Bonner and Adam Goodes, Xanana Gusmao, Marcos Terena, Milagro Sala, Feliciano Valencia, Miriam Miranda, Wilma Mankiller. Many are the names you may not recognize. Search for them; learn of their efforts for humanity.

My small path will be concerned with the well-being of my friends and family (wherever they may live), Home Base community, state and nation-and across Planet Earth. Some self-care is always in play and my mahal na isa (dear one) is ever on my mind and deep in my heart. For all of us, though, the primary need is to stay awake, and look out for one another.

These are my thoughts, as I watch Awaken.

Here is another clip that expresses the sentiments in the above-mentioned film. https://vimeo.com/128567591