Thirty-Five Gratitudes

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July 7, 2023- “When a thought of war comes, oppose it by a stronger thought of peace. A thought of hatred must be destroyed by a more powerful thought of love.” – ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, 1911. I have had competing impulses today, and the stronger message from my spirit guides is to focus on gratitude. I have a lot of angst and self-criticism going on today, but not much can be done to rectify the causes of all that-without pondering and listing all the reasons for being grateful.

Today, my son turned 35, and so I feel it useful to list thirty-five things, places and people for which/whom I am grateful.

35. Grand Canyon National Park-both North and South; . 34. San Diego; 33. Dietary protein shakes that have worked; 32. The core group of readers of this blog site; 31. Those who are committed to peace, through dialogue; 30. My large extended family; 29. Newfoundland; 28. My childhood home town- Saugus, MA; 27. My variegated playlist; 26. My book collection; 25. Planet Fitness; 24. The movement towards inclusion and equality; 23. Horses; 22. Historical sites-both domestic and worldwide; 21.Century Lounge and the Raven Cafe; 20. Cape Breton Island; 19. My comfortable Home Base (apartment); 18. Prescott Farmers Market; 16. Brittany (the region); 15. Santa Fe; 14. Butterflies; 13. The ocean; 12. Whales and dolphins; 11. Reusable bags; 10. Mountains; 9. Sunrises and sunsets; 8. Colorado; 7. Arizona as a whole; 6. My closest friends; 5. Children and teenagers; 4. My siblings; 3. My parents; 2. My little family; 1. Spirit guides (and the Baha’i teachings).

This list is not written in order of importance, though the top five are certainly on my mind and in my heart 24/7.

Close The Gate

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July 4, 2023- No, not THAT gate! Anyone familiar with ranch culture would tell you that the phrase is one of the first instructions given a child growing up, and is expected of family members and visitors alike, when going out of the portal that keeps livestock confined. It is a generalized ethic, that calls for each member of the ranch community to keep all others in mind, in everything one does.

Baha’u’llah admonishes us to “Be fair to yourself and others.” This teaching applies to all situations, and is, when you think about it, a prerequisite to a peaceful world. Even one’s sworn enemy deserves to be treated with dignity and have good qualities acknowledged.

So, courtesy and fair treatment start with our dealings with family, then with neighbours, community members, in the work place and on up the chain to state, nation and the world as a whole. Nowhere is this more critical, and often overlooked, than when engaging with traffic.

At the conclusion of a most well-orchestrated fireworks display, this evening in Prescott Valley, there was a potentially unwieldy amount of traffic that had to be moved along. We have a deeply ingrained “four-way stop” mentality here, so there was a smooth egress system that kept things moving, albeit slowly, with people alternating exiting, even when there was a five-way reality, as each lane was honoured in its turn.

“Close the gate”-just not in the neighbour’s face!

Heroes

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July 3, 2023- He was arguably one of the finest chefs I ever knew, although my own knowledge of him was fleeting. His wife of forty years was not far behind, in the culinary field. They were, aside from their mastery of the kitchen, a handsome couple, as far back as I can remember. They were both athletic, and highly personable. Rod would tease the heck out of a number of people, including yours truly-but I never got the sense he was putting us down. He and Kathy were never elitists. Rodney P. Lavoie, Senior was a coach, a craftsman and a master of so much that he took on. He was just one of those people whom it was not necessary to know well, in order to admire. It was a shock to learn of his passing, early last week. He was a genuine hero to many young people, in and around the town of my youth.

I’ve had occasion to ponder who the heroic figures in my life have been. What determines that status? It’s not age. I have seen heroic acts by people as young as six. It’s not gender. Many of my heroes, even role models in certain respects, have been women and girls. It’s not familial. Though my parents and relatives are high on the list, there are many, even sometime adversaries, who are there as well. I don’t even have to know them personally. Public figures, and occasional strangers, who don’t shy from tending to the well-being of those around them,

Two men in a nearby community took four relative strangers into their homes, despite their both being fairly ill. One of them has had cancer turn for the worse, and reluctantly asked his boarder to move on, as room had to be made for a live-in caretaker. Another kind soul quickly stepped up and provided living space for the young man. These acts of loving kindness are also the stuff of heroism.

As a community, we have taken time to honour the brave nineteen men who died on Yarnell Hill, ten years ago. Over a dozen First Responders have died in the line of duty, since that harrowing day. That they exhibited heroism and sacrifice goes without saying. The most heartening aspect of this is that their children, and others who learn of them, are drawing the right lessons. Herosim will continue.

David Bowie’s depiction of two brave souls standing by the Berlin Wall, in the dark days of Soviet rule, says it all.

“What Would They Want For You Now?”

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June 23, 2023- A group of about two dozen young men walked into a Los Angeles session that offered poetry and meditation, to address social dysfunction. One by one, the men spoke to the three “experts”, saying that all this philosophy was good on its face, but that the reality they faced each day was far more ominous- 9 mm weapons pointed at them, suspicious police tailing and stopping them, food deserts, joblessness, and so on. Besides, the men said, they knew too many of their peers who had been slain on the streets, in the past year.

The experts wisely acknowledged that there were too many souls who hadn’t been honoured, so they asked each of the men to go outside and gather up a stone, for each person they knew, who had been killed in the last year. After several minutes, the men came back inside, each carrying many rocks. They sat down, a candle was lit and placed in the center of the circle, and each person was asked to give a name to each of the stones. He was then to say the name of the victim, and place the stone next to the candle. This continued, until all the stones were set around the candle, honouring each of the murder victims.

Jack Kornfield, a social psychologist, and author of “A Path With Heart”, which helped me so much, in the early stages of grief, in 2011, was one of the “experts”. He posed a question to the men: “What would they want for you now?” One by one, the members addressed that question, in a pensive and serious manner.

As I listened to this presentation, I thought of Dad, Penny, Brian, my in-laws, grandparents, aunts and uncles, even the most rambunctious of my cousins. I think they would want me to know peace, to have arrived at self-acceptance and to keep on in the path of service. Each of them sacrificed, in one way or another, that the world they left behind might be a better place. Friends, like John H., Deedee B., Donna G., Sean W., Mario M., even Frankie Q., would want me to be doubly sure that the person inside this frame was jettisoning the baggage that held me back, for so long.

I have to want the same for myself-and believe me, it is happening-slowly, but steadily.

He Did So

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June 22, 2023-The night I came home, inebriated after a party at work, Mother was waiting in the dark. She asked me what time I thought it was, and after my saying it was Midnight, I learned it was 2 a.m. Dad, as it happened was down cellar, doing some work, and came when called. I had already gotten a “Pow in the kisser” by the time he got upstairs. He told me what he thought of me, and it wasn’t anything complimentary, but it wasn’t profane, either.

I think my father stopped using corporal punishment when I was about eight, and even before that, I only remember him spanking me once. As for telling us what he wanted done, it was mainly by force of example. When I was expected to be out in the yard, shoveling dirt or putting rocks in the wheelbarrow, and dumping them along the edge of the marsh across the street, he was already outside determining what area was mine to work, what area was Cheryl’s and, after a few years, what area was to be worked by David. Dad always did the heavy lifting, and built the fire underneath the large boulders, then sprayed them with cold water and took the sledge hammer, to break them up.

When a medical emergency came, for one of my siblings, it was he who flew up and down the stairs, throwing items necessary for an overnight stay, into a cloth bag, then carrying the hurting child downstairs and to the car, while I had my arms around Mom and Sis. He took care of all such crises, as best he could-and it was always good enough, in my book.

Dad applied himself to his work, just as much, though his heart was with us, always. His gift of gab let the time get away from him, when out on errands, but he always made up for it to Mom, with a quality night out or an occasional weekend away, as we got older. He would have choked at the term “Date Night”. Dates, for people of my parents’ generation, stopped at the altar. Thenceforth, it was “our night out”, and either Cheryl, one of our cousins or I minded the younger kids.

What he wanted done, he did as an example-and we were never confused as to how to go about it. That all stopped, thirty-seven years ago today. Thankfully, the road maps left for us are still clear. His image and voice are,as well.

Paternal Love

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June 18, 2023- Dad taught each of his four children who were of sound mind the basics of automobile maintenance, the basics of responsibility and the basics of getting along with others. A work ethic was instilled in each of us, and each of us holds on to that, to this day. He held us to fairly high standard-and any lapse in conduct, once he taught us, was on the individual child. He played no favourites- and I, as the oldest although the most troubled, was not cut any slack. It was no fault of his, when I made bad choices-and it was only fortunate that no one was hurt by those choices, except me.

Dad’s demeanor was steady, and while his manners were those of the blue collar French-Canadian family in which he grew up, he was a gentle man, devout and not given to cursing. He rarely, if ever, punished us physically. He loved only his wife, our mother, even through the stressful teen and young adult years of their youngest child, who was in constant pain and was unable to communicate in other than the simplest language-and frustrated acting out. He loved the five of us, but in the end, I fear he did not love himself enough.

His passing took place thirty-seven years ago, this coming Wednesday. My siblings gathered at the family home, post-haste. I traveled from Arizona, after gathering food for Penny, who had to remain behind. After a long stretch of driving and flying, I was there, too, for our mother. The subsequent wake and funeral saw nearly 500 people pay their respects, and none of us would have expected any less. Penny’s parents drove from New Jersey-a clear symbol of the friendship that had developed between our two fathers. Family was there from all over New England and several from further afield. “Freddie” Boivin was treasured.

Camp Three, Day Three: Burritos, Enchiladas and Two Kinds of Salsa

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June 15, 2023, Bellemont- The Enchilada Lady called out on her bullhorn: “Comida, AHORA!”, announcing “Lunch, now!” Children and teens filed into the ramada in fairly short order. They chose from among the left-over burritos, fresh enchiladas and quesadillas, which the three mamas had lovingly prepared. There was plenty of salsa-hot and mild, but no beginner stuff. Chef, needless to say, was enjoying this respite-which ended with her spaghetti and meat sauce, this evening.

My day was filled with observing light repairs, helping lift a couple of generators over some rocks and answering whatever questions I could, from the property manager. He seemed generally pleased, overall, with how the camps are going. My instructions for tomorrow’s camp closing are quite clear.

After spaghetti and meat sauce, it was back to salsa. This time, though, it was salsa dancing. The campers and their chaperones swayed, jumped about and worked out any frustrations they may have accumulated-either here or before they arrived. There is much to be said for dance parties. It certainly made their last night at camp a treasure to be savoured.

This is the vibrant life of a connected community. It is why we need the energy of people from the southern part of our hemisphere, the productive, connected energy, that is, a lot more than they need to offer it. The people who are in our midst, for another morning at least, exude love, balance between work and play and a sense of community responsibility for the well-being of all children and youths in their group. They also look out for us, their hosts.

This is how it used to be, when I was growing up-before anonymity, isolation enabled by garage-doors as ingress and egress points and the casting of the chase after security as the primary goal of so many. The neighbours knew one another-often as friends, and they knew us, as if we were their own-because, in a sense, we were. The child who was cared for, who was valued, was less likely to cause trouble.

Here, for another ten hours, is the answer to much of what hurts America so. Here is the counterpoint to that with which so many associate our neighbour nations to the south: A strong family structure, telescoped into a strong community network.

Camp Three, Day One: Comida Es Mas Deliciosa

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June 13, 2023, Bellemont- The day began at 5 a.m., as I had to leave Home Base to get up here in time for three van loads of campers, who were supposed to arrive at Noon-but something told me they would be here early, and besides, the water delivery truck was due to get here at 9:30.

It was a light traffic day, so I actually stopped at Brewed Awakening for a light breakfast and got here well in time for the delivery-no pun intended. The campers arrive at 11:15 and were able to get oriented and settled before lunch. I also had no trouble getting everything unlocked and set up, while they unwound a bit.

This is a smaller group than anticipated, but it is certainly a well-balanced and well-behaved party of 26. Three mothers accompanied the campers, which helps-as they have a gentle but firm set of expectations of the children, one which matches our own. The mothers also came with a feeding mission. They have a full menu plan, which they will prepare. This brought a smile to Chef’s face. She sat and was content to offer advice about the equipment, when asked.

My task was to run to a store and buy pillows and slips, for ten people. Fortunately, the items were available at a discount. The rest of the time was quite relaxed. As astrological signs point to a lifting of the tension that intermittently bothered many of us, these past five weeks, this first day of a 3.5 day session augurs well for a fairly calm camp.

The best thing about today, though, was the dinner. Red and white enchiladas were accompanied by rice and a rich sauce that resembled Louisiana Red Gravy. Mas sabor y delicioso!

Second Camp, Day Two: Retirement? What Retirement?

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June 11, 2023, Bellemont- My well-accomplished third sibling/second-born brother celebrated a birthday, today, and is actively moving towards retirement, in the near future. We talked for a while, about his post-retirement plans and, like anything else that is speculative, several options, including “semi-retirement”, come to mind. He will do what is best for his wife and himself, by year’s end.

I pondered my own situation, after the call ended. Today was the second and last day of this second camp, and things went very well, with this small and lively group. The kids cut up a bit and had fun, but were anything but destructive. Working with groups of children and teens adds to my life. So does working with the Red Cross, in Disaster Relief, Logistics and as Blood Ambassador. Advocating for displaced people, as I will do tomorrow, also is a plus. Being in nature and visiting family and friends farther afield also extend a quality life.

There is, then, no real retirement from an active life, until one is called homeward. Even then, the spirit self is exuding energy towards helping those of us still in the mortal frame. We are always making a difference, so long as we so choose.

Musings, On Another Half-Way Mark

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May 28, 2023- I weigh under 170 lbs, for the first time since I left Korea (1992). The work and the discipline are worth it-and while some are already trying to get me to EAT more, the nutrition I am giving myself is more than adequate. As with anything else, when someone pushes me one way, I go the other, at least as far as it suits my own greater well-being.

Exercise is also a key, and I find it easier to do more cardiopulmonary stuff than I did four months ago, when the whole weight reduction plan started. Shedding bulk works. Of course, I also walk more and will get in plenty of hikes, over the next several months, including early morning walks to my favourite grove of trees, about 1.5 miles from the camp I will be managing from June 2-16 and possibly over Solstice Week. I won’t know about the latter until, maybe, June 16, but there we are.

Being 72.5 doesn’t feel bad at all, and actually feels better than 65 or 68. Much is in how one views the world-and oneself in it. I spent the day fitting a friend wh,o is in pain, with a back brace; holding space for a devotional online; driving down to the cemetery where Penny is laid to rest; putting flowers in a plastic vase, provided by the cemetery, and placing the vase at Penny’s grave, then sitting foe a while and communicating about the next few months. Finding the vase was itself an interesting process. Being Memorial Day weekend, most of those vessels were already in use-and people were using the vase bins as trash cans! I drove around and checked a few other bins, finally finding several in a bin near the Cemetery Office. Some people who had pulled in behind me, near the row of graves, were also looking for a vase, so I directed them to that bin, and it was win-win.

Upon returning to Prescott, a dinner was being held in honour of a Baha’i craftswoman, who has a booth at the festival on Courthouse Plaza. So, I attended the delightful meal, and will certainly visit her booth tomorrow, in between all the Memorial Day activities. Tomorrow also marks the 131st anniversary of the Ascension of Baha’u’llah, thus imparting extra meaning to the concept of commemorating the lives of departed loved ones. It will be 106 years since the late former President John F. Kennedy was born. It will also mark 59 years since my late youngest brother was born. I get messages from him also- “Stay true to yourself; you’re on a good path and people love you.”

I feel that energy, especially lately. It’s always good to get messages from departed loved ones, though.