December 12, 2021- Those words were spoken by actor Jonathan Roumie, who plays the role of Jesus the Christ, in the ongoing series “The Chosen”, in his commentary on the series’ Christmas special. He spoke, of course, as to the responsibility of Christians to bear witness to their Faith, in word and deed.
I extend that further, to all people of Faith. We Baha’is recently commemorated the Centenary of the Passing of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, the only perfect exemplar we had, other than Baha’u’llah Himself-in terms of living our Faith, day to day. Every other person, in living memory, has their own struggles and challenges. That, however, can never be an excuse for lack of striving.
Like it or not, everything one does reflects on her/his professed creed. Even atheists, relying on Ethics as their credo, have a standard to uphold. I think of this each day, bringing myself to account-as to who I have helped and from whom I have turned aside. No one person can meet the needs of every outstretched hand, but there is the matter of at least showing them the Light.
December 7, 2021- People were worshipping, others were fishing, on the vast expanse of Pearl Harbor.
The churchgoers would think of picnicking, the fishers, of cleaning and grilling their catch.
Sailors, Marines and soldiers were lolling about their bunks, or maybe going out for a morning jog.
Approaching from the west, aviators, operating in stealth, let loose with a steady barrage of firepower.
Everyone who was aboard ship became a gunner. The targets did their level best to turn the tables. The attackers carried the day, but the victory was Pyrrhic.
Imperial Japan had awakened a giant, whose ferocity and tenacity would rain far worse devastation on the people who could not look their Emperor in the eye.
The experience of Japan should be a cautionary tale, to all who dream of worldwide hegemony.
Will the ones who now dream of such an empire take heed?
November 9,2021, San Diego- Three teams of fourth grade students manned a rope each, and carefully maneuvered the empty steel safe into position, in the hold of the Star of India, a barque that is the world’s oldest active sailing vessel and is the centerpiece of the Maritime Museum of San Diego. Below is a photo of the ship’s miniature, taken during my last visit to the Museum, in 2012.
It is always a joy to see children engaged in an activity that involves a fair amount of thought, and all the better when that activity requires teamwork. There were four sets of students each involved in ship-related activities, during the time I was aboard. It was the only place in the museum where face masks were required. With the children’s safety in mind, all but two people were in compliance. Fortunately, the teachers and parent chaperones made sure those two got nowhere near the kids.
There are two ships that have been added to the Museum’s collection, since 2012: The galleon, San Salvador, a replica of the vessel which Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo used to sail into San Diego Harbor, in 1542 and a Patrol Craft Fast (Swift Boat). I took a fifteen-minute walk around San Salvador, joining a party of visitors from Mexico. Here is a view of the galleon.
The galleon, San Salvador, replicated for the Maritime Museum of San Diego
It is notable that Cabrillo, one of the wealthiest men in Spanish America at that time, contracted food poisoning either whilst in this area, or shortly after leaving. He never got to see the successful settlement, which was fostered sixty years later, by Sebastian Vizcaino (Viz-ka-YEE-no), who gave the settlement the name, San Diego.
One ship will soon leave the Museum: The B-39 Soviet submarine. I made one visit aboard this vessel, in 2012. Here are the way it looked nine years ago, and how it looks now.
Soviet B-39 submarine, Maritime Museum of San Diego, 2012
Soviet B-39 submarine, with corroded outer hull, Maritime Museum of San Diego, 2021
After visiting or re-visiting several of the vessels, I headed over to Little Italy, which lies between the waterfront and San Diego’s downtown core. There, a stop was made for lunch, at an old favourite: Filippi’s Pizza Grotto. It was the first restaurant I visited in San Diego, back in 1979-then, as now, accessible by entering through the market and kitchen.
Filippi’s flagship restaurant, in Little Italy, San Diego
This was a most gratifying day, made all the more so by the presence of so many young people, who are enthused by embracing their city’s maritime heritage-and learning teamwork in the process.
November 6, 2021- The presence of multiples in my life-doubles, triples, quadruples, and so on, tends invariably to enrich experiences. My twin sisters-in-law have been a prime example, and but for the care provided for Penny’s mother, in her last years, those years would have been a lot drearier. They still are close with one another, long after her passing in 2018, and I hope to visit them, and other family and friends, in March of next year.
The greatest influence in my life, over the past forty years, has been the collective Teachings of Baha’u’llah-and of His Herald, al-Bab. As long-time readers of this blog may remember, the birthdays of both Messengers of God have been celebrated over two consecutive days, in either October or November, according to lunar reckoning (Badi calendar), for nearly seven years. Prior to that, we Baha’is followed the observances according to each Messenger’s birthday by solar reckoning (Gregorian calendar), to wit: October 20, for al-Bab and November 12, for Baha’u’llah. Lovely gatherings, both virtual and in-person are being held this weekend, with today in honour of al-Bab and tomorrow, in honour of Baha’u’llah. That these celebrations dovetail with the Hindu Festival of Light, or Diwali, is an added bounty.
The greatest blessing upon the Universe and all of us who dwell in it, is light-whether it be in its natural physical form, in the form generated by electricity, in the illumination provided by truth or the healing energy of love. Light propels life along a strengthening and progressive path. Its twin, equally beneficial, in light’s wake, is heat-in its proper measure. The correct amount of heat sustains life, maintains health and, in terms of the heat of truth-generates understanding and enlightenment.
Thus, we have examples of two being better than one, as are bonded couples, pairs of siblings and dyadic teams. More essentially, where would we be without the Double Helix?
November 1, 2021- Today is observed, in many Christian communities, as All Saints Day-honouring those who have been canonized, as well as those who may have been regarded as holy people in their time, but are not generally known to history.
What makes a saint? Could you or I be one? Is a life lived in service enough to raise one’s profile? Is it needful to recognize the power of the Great Teachers sent by the Creator? Is it prerequisite for one to be free of all transgressions, or is it simply enough to be an adherent to Faith?
In ages of cynicism, saints have been pilloried and their icons smashed. In this age, for example, those revered by people of the past have been publicly taken to task, for not having been of absolute purity. This, of course, has happened not only to canonized saints, but also to secular heroic figures.
It is hard for anything different to take place. Every human being is flawed, in one respect or another. Only the Great Teachers Themselves have lived lives of absolute perfection. Saints have, for the most part, been those who have risen above their human failings, but have had those failings nonetheless.
Tonight was one of the mildest, and nicest Hallowe’en nights in quite some time. I set out a table with candy in a bowl, and a lit Jack-o’-lantern, in front of Home Base, and ten people took from the bowl. I was also helping out at the American Legion post’s treat distribution, which saw about 60 people and 3 service dogs come through. This is the kind of community we have, where a neighbour watching through a window can monitor treats set outside, while the host is able to offer greater services, in a different location.
There is also the matter of sixty people, lined up on either side of the entrance to our major hospital, engaging in protests against any vaccine mandate. They drew the Far Right “Let’s go, Brandon” crowd, which is distracting from the basic message of letting people decide for themselves, as to their health regimen. I have mixed feelings about the vaccine mandate. I was allowed to decide for myself, and made the informed decision to take Moderna’s vaccine, because I was working around children, in fairly close quarters. I do believe others should have the same latitude, while acknowledging that not everyone takes the time to learn for themselves about this very complex matter. The conservatives are not the only antagonists here. Shaming people, rather than educating them, may be an understandable reaction of frustrated officials-but it is not working and not helping. The only effective tool, at the disposal of those trying to bring the pandemic to heel, is education. That takes time, especially when so much misinformation and distraction is being thrown out by those whose sole intent is to divide and rule.
Then, there is the poison bait of “Let’s blame parents”, also originally tossed out to the frustrated officials, by those same controlling forces-who then turn around and present themselves as advocates for the parents. Parents are partners, not adversaries, of educators. They are not terrorists, even when they lose their tempers. Parenting is the greatest influence on a child’s life. Education is the second greatest.
There is the red herring of “Critical Race Theory”, which is not even a real thing, anymore. I was present when it was being bandied about, in the universities of the 1970s. I have heard threads of it being discussed, in incoherent and disconnected ways, as part of the general effort to tell history in all its messy completeness. That overall mission is laudable-and long overdue. “Old times there are not forgotten”, nor should they be-but they need to be understood in their true light: An economically expedient and morally putrid system, that bankrupted the souls of the ruling class in the South, their economic partners in the North, and all their immediate underlings, as well as terrorizing and debilitating the enslaved. Listen, however, to the demagogues, and you would think that CRT is ubiquitous in middle schools and high schools. I work in some of those schools, talk to others who work in others of those schools and IT IS NOT.
It so happens that, when people at the ground level talk with one another and listen with both ears, they figure out that the demagogues are duping them. They figure out that Demagogue A is more interested in getting rid of Demagogue B, and vice versa, than in really solving problems-which in many cases is akin to making sausage. Thus, the obfuscation, the name-calling, the blamecasting that has come to characterize politics, worldwide. Thus, does it fall to us to start making informed decisions, for (and with) our children, for our communities, for our country and for our planet. We, on the ground, whether “liberal”, “conservative” or “progressive” have more in common than we have different. We need to remind those engaged in the art of distract and rule of that basic fact.
I am no fan of J.P. Morgan, but his tactic of locking discordant people in a room, until they found a common purpose, merits investigation. I’d like to see that done with the demagogues.
October 30, 2021- Rain put a slight damper on the celebration of Hallowe’en Eve, in Salem. The last day, or two, of October constitutes a prime commercial windfall for the Witch City. Indeed, October as a whole has emerged as Salem’s prime tourism season. The confluence is that of the city’s being the site of several, but not all, of the trials of people (mostly women and girls) with the American observance of All Hallows Eve-itself a metamorphosis of the early Christian (ca. 4th Century A.D.) honouring of departed saints, and family members of the faithful, for the three days October 31-November 2. British Celts began the custom of disguising oneself as a departed person, and going house to house for small food items. This custom came to North America, with the mass immigration of Irish, Scottish and Welsh people, from the 17th Century onward. It gradually evolved into today’s secular practices of widely varying costume play and the disbursing of treats. Should the rain continue, tomorrow evening, in Salem and environs, it will diminish, but not cancel, the celebration. Having grown up in a town not too far from Salem, I can predict many ghouls, goblins, witches, even 10-foot-tall dinosaurs and skeletons will be afoot-even some in rain gear.
Some scenes from Salem were shared by cellphone, as Hiking Buddy and I drove from Prescott, through Jerome, Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon, to the overlook at that canyon’s North Rim. The idea was for HB to be able to see at least some of the remaining fall foliage-a bit of which was still bright, despite being still in recovery from an injury. That mission was accomplished, and was a good use of a day which was quite open-ended.
The day started with my consideration, again, of the balance between serving this community and following insights from my spirit guides. It is, in my condition of certitude, a question of balance. There are those whose mantra is: “Bloom where you’re planted!” There is also the mantra of “Follow your own path!” The truth, for me, means following a path that incorporates both time spent in one place, serving those living here, and extending one’s network to people and places further afield. My path to certitude thus does not subscribe to the dictates of even the most well-meaning of those around me. Rather, it derives from intense reflection and meditation.
Even the most open-ended day can bring sunshine into the lives of others.
October 29, 2021- Ninety-two years ago today, the Universe reacted to nearly a decade of excess and careless handling of finances, across many strata of society. Today, there was a modest amount of give and take, in the financial markets and they ended the month of October on a mildly upbeat note.
Ninety years ago, with a year left before the Presidential Election of 1932, what was left of the nation’s business elite was blaming the entire mess on “shiftless workers”, who “expect handouts”. Today, there is little changed, in that regard. The difference is that the philosophical heirs of that elite are blaming Unemployment Compensation and Social Security, as well as “lazy workers”, for what is largely a supply chain jam-up, caused by a variety of factors-only a few of which are independently verifiable. Much remains in the realm of speculation, and thus is beyond the purview of this web log.
Eighty-nine years ago, a president who was in over his head was replaced by a man who had been governor of the most populous state in the Union and who had a fair amount of experience in the financial markets. It was a gargantuan task that greeted that successor, and it took him the better part of three terms in office to promulgate a recovery. Today, we are a nation in gradual recovery from a worldwide disease pandemic, a year after another president who struggled was replaced-by a somewhat more seasoned public official-who is also struggling.
The difference between then and now is that we are faced with the ambiguity that comes from too much contradictory and rapidly flowing information. Most people are at their worst, when faced with ambiguity. No one likes to be wrong, so shades of gray flummox us. Good guys aren’t supposed to wear black hats. Villains are supposed to lack virtue. The fog is supposed to clear by Noon.
When the fog does clear, though, we see that there are all manner of contradictions-and no one gets off scot-free. The physical disease will lose its pandemic status, probably in less than a year. The disease of ego gratification will take longer to curb-and will entail some loud voices, coming from ungainly personages-on both sides of the aisle, being rendered silent-by the power of the voting booth. We will, each and all, be left with the challenge of learning to listen to those who see things differently than we.
It would be well to resume, or at least start, that process now.
October 15, 2021- In the fall of 2020, there were protests against keeping the statue of Juan de Onate, one of the Conquistadores who re-established Spanish hegemony in what is now the American Southwest, after the Indigenous Peoples’ Revolt of 1680. The statue still stands at the southwest entrance to Old Town Albuquerque. As painful as much of Spanish rule was, for both the Puebloan and nomadic tribes that were subjugated, that collective pain and the response to it-including the retributive pain meted out by the rebels upon the Spanish settlers are cautionary tales-two among many from which mankind is learning, ever so slowly. The horrors endured cannot be wiped from memory.
All across Europe, there are reminders of the grim events that forged that continent’s present state, from the Museum of Torture, in Bruges, Belgium to the preserved concentration camps of World War II. In Africa, the dreadful remnants of Slave Castles and places like Ile Goree, remind residents and visitors alike of the widespread culpability for this most heinous sustained and codified injustice. Hiroshima and Nagasaki bear witness to the ultimate fate that awaits the worst of ultranationalists, along with the millions of innocent victims that their excesses cause to be brought down with them.
Here in North America, it is surely tempting to “correct” history, by eradicating statuary that reflect the erroneous notion of one racial subgroup, or ethnicity, being superior to others. Indeed, statues of Confederate leaders and slave holders scarcely have any place, standing in communities that abolished slavery, to the extent it ever was practiced in them, well before the onset of the American Civil War. Ditto for the Stars and Bars.
I have visited places associated with controversial, even unsavory, historical figures and events, from the Confederate Cemetery of southern Maryland to the site of the Silver Creek Massacre, in eastern Colorado-and will continue to do so, for the purposes of my own understanding. I do so, knowing that I will never subscribe to either heinous mistreatment of other human beings, or to the systems that spring from it.
Careful, measured and accurate presentation of unpleasant to horrific episodes of our history, and of the blinkered systems they produced, is however part of learning. De Onate’s role in the suppression of both indigenous peoples of New Mexico, and of the lower class settlers (including Afro-Spaniards, many of whom were enslaved) needs to be kept in mind. Seeing his likeness on horseback, upon first entering Old Town, is a suitable prompt in that regard. It also brings forth further contemplation, as to the role of the clergy, including the founders of the nearby Church of San Felipe de Neri, in the oppression of those viewed as of a lesser humanity. Again, gratuitous statuary in places not associated with a given figure of history- as in a statue of Christopher Columbus in, say, Portland, Oregon or of Robert E. Lee, in downtown St. Louis, serves no purpose other than to gratify that figure’s local admirers. In such a case, those admirers should be free to keep their memorabilia on their own private turf. For the rest of us, history presented in its true context will suffice.
Those are my thoughts, after visiting Old Town Albuquerque, before heading back to Home Base.
October 14, 2021, Albuquerque- The themes expressed in the New Mexico History Museum are common, in their presentation of the call for rectification of all that has been done wrong, between one group of people towards another, over the centuries. Simply put, there is no person, group of people, ethnicity or nation that has a corner on purity, kindness, love for the Earth, etc. Any time people feel backed into a corner, they lash out.
This is true, no matter how privileged and well-off people are, in actuality. “The reality of man is his thought”, said ‘Abdu’l-Baha, on His visit to Paris, in 1911. If a person feels that he is a victim, then no amount of explaining from someone else, even grounded in real time, will change the afflicted one’s perspective. it has to come from within. Before Europeans came to the Americas, there were times when the various Indigenous nations would quarrel and wage war. Usually, this was sparked by natural disaster, combined with population growth, resulting in scarcity. The influx of large numbers of people who came from other parts of the world, and who had different values and practices, did not exactly ease the situation.
The solution, though, is never to deny another person’s reality, as some intellectuals are trying to do with regard to social justice movements. The conservative who refers to the claims of a progressive as “that hoax”, and vice versa, brings no peace. Everyone has a piece of the truth, and deserves to at least be heard, so that the feeling of being backed into a corner does not arise. I came to this realization, again, after visiting the section of the New Mexico History Museum that deals with the Pueblo Revolt of 1680. The rebellion succeeded, initially, because there was unity of purpose across the various Indigenous nations. It failed, in the end, both because that unity did not hold and because the victors did not see fit to treat Spanish civilians, especially women and children, in a humane manner. It was the generating of extreme negativity that sucked the energy out of the otherwise worthy campaign for relief and equanimity for maltreated Indigenous people.
The songwriter Pete Townshend warned, after experiencing callous behaviour from some attendees at the Woodstock Music Festival, in 1969, that “parting on the Left” could change to “parting on the Right”, in his song “We Won’t Get Fooled Again”. It happens when, as the initially victorious have so often found, their views on holding power turn out to be unimaginative, merely copying the practices of their former oppressors-and thus either paving the way for the return of those oppressors, as happened in the late Seventeenth Century, or worse, hard-wiring the succeeding generations in patterns of socially maladaptive behaviour.
I have paid close attention, especially lately, to the interactions of people, across ages and ethnicities, in the latest stages of COVID19. I have heard of incidents of line jumping and people flailing at each other, over masks vs. no masks. I saw nothing of the sort, anywhere in mask-mandated New Mexico, these past four days. People appear to be making an effort to get along, on a very basic level. even when, as one conservative friend said, they regard the mask mandate as inane.
Everyone’s struggle is real, and though that struggle does not become everyone else’s God-given burden, we can at least wish the bedraggled soul the best, and not actively make the onus heavier, by denying that it exists.
I left Santa Fe, around noon, after the museum visit, making brief stops in the artistic havens of Galisteo and Madrid, before settling in at the avant-garde, minimalist Monterey Motel, near Old Town, in this sprawling, but still rather charming metropolis on the Rio Grande.
Here are a few scenes of the day.
Henry and the Fish, near Santa Fe’s Lensic Theater, has upped the game on oatmeal-making the winter comfort food into a staple that lasts all day.
Learning, with some satisfaction, that the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum has sufficient rock star status as to require a fair amount of advance planning, before a visit, I made a note to wait until next time.
Affirmation Sculpture, near Georgia O’Keeffe Museum, Santa Fe
After leaving Santa Fe, a drive to quiet, artistic Galisteo introduced this adobe church: Our Lady of the Cures.
Nuestra Senora de Los Remedios, Galisteo, NM
This stone wall is similar to one that a former colleague mentioned, after his 1979 visit to a ranch owned by the late Burl Ives, who called Galisteo home.
En route from Galisteo to the artist community of Madrid, I drove past some badlands.
Sandstone outcroppings, north of Cerrillos, NM
Outcroppings, north of Cerrillos, NM
Once in Madrid, I found this little gem, in the Gypsy Plaza. Mr. Shugarman carefully packaged two of his signature chocolate bark squares, for my gradual enjoyment. He also ships his wares, so some beloved friends may expect an occasional surprise, direct from Madrid.
Shugarman’s Little Chocolate Shop, Madrid, NM
Madrid may look like it’s falling down, but thriving it is. The old coal mining town reminds me of Jerome, only not perched on a hillside.
Java Junction’s apple cream muffin also is coming home with me, for a possible Saturday (or Monday) breakfast.
JJ was somewhat busy, this afternoon, but it hasn’t always been thus.
Madrid, on the east side of Sandia Crest, is another reason for me to return to northern New Mexico, soon. After tending to a critical business matter in uptown Albuquerque, I settled into Monterey Motel, about two blocks west of Old Town. The avant-garde ambiance was welcome this evening.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 