“A Space of Quiet Promise”

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May 28, 2026- I am now halfway through my diamond year. Much has changed, since my 75th birthday, and much, at least inside me, has remained the same.

I have left a mountain community, with many acts of service in the course of a week. There was also much in the way of natural beauty, in which I could become refreshed, even at the risk of encountering an apex predator. I left a solid community of friends, of all Faiths, though a good many of my interactions were with my fellow Baha’is; Friends were also from all points on the political spectrum; as apt to be women as men; many were older than 60, and many were younger. I finally mastered the art of teaching, just in time to retire.

I came to a place of quiet promise. (The phrase is borrowed from blogger Cynthia Ward’s essay, “Who I Used To Be”.)* I left a one-bedroom apartment and came into a two-story house, with three bedrooms and two offices that could convert to bedrooms. The kitchen and living room, alone, are the size of what I left behind. I came to live with family, as an active contributor, rather than as a dependent. My educational skills now go towards the development of my infant granddaughter. My Red Cross volunteering is strictly on weekends, and my Baha’i activities are on evenings and weekends. I have not changed my American Legion post, as yet. There is no activity at the nearest post, save gatherings centered on drinking and smoking, neither of which interest me, nor would they suit my coming home to a nursing mother and a little girl. As time goes on, Slow Food Dallas-Fort Worth could draw me into its activities.

Health-wise, I have found a fine, competent VA doctor, dentist and chiropractor. I go to a Planet Fitness, about ten minutes from here. There are plenty of parks nearby and several safe neighbourhoods in which to walk, day or night. I can still do a plank for 1 1/2-2 minutes. I can still walk 3-5 miles. (It’s mostly flat here, but the humidity makes up for the lack of elevation changes).

I have several bounties here: A loving son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter; a large and supportive Baha’i community; a quiet neighbourhood connected with the outside world by well-ordered streets and roads; and, for the next few months at least, a reliable supply network for what we need. This house, this community, are places of quiet promise.

  • “Who I Used to Be”, Still Amazed, Cynthia Ward May 25,2026

Solid

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May 24,2026- Hana began her transition to solid food in earnest today, A simple meal of rice porridge accompanied her liquid feedings. She was quite happy about this, and recognizes, on some level, that this puts her on the path to being a bigger child. Food items, pureed of course, will be added gradually, one food at a time, according to a nutritionist’s plan that her mother has adopted.

My granddaughter is generally a cheerful little girl, who laughs easily. She also has a serious side and when she is crawling towards something, she does not like being distracted. She puts her attention on doing a certain task-usually on pressing buttons on an educational toy, to elicit a spoken instruction or a little song, to the tune of which she will kick her legs, even while lying prone. She carefully lifts up a section of her crawling mat, to see what is underneath and examines the tags on a quilt or other fabric.

I want to help her build on both of these aspects of herself-the gregarious and mirthful, as well as the purposeful and focused. All three of us read to her, show her the pictures in the books and have her turn the pages, as much as she is willing to. If she wants to linger on a certain page and absorb the illustrations, that’s okay, too.

There is no day off, or holiday, in raising an infant or toddler. At the same time, it is a labour of joy. A solid human being is in the works. The days fly by; with the sameness of each day’s schedule intertwined with the growth that each new day brings. It’s said that this will all “be over” too soon. Maybe so, but in the interim, I will savour every step forward and every inch grown taller.

Loyalty

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May 20,2026- My granddaughter kissed me on the shoulder, when I picked her up from the crib, after her first nap, this morning. She will roll over to get next to me, when I lower myself to her crawling area. She holds onto my shirt, when I am rocking her, at the end of a play period. A baby is motivated by survival instinct, and gravitates to the person(s) who show her/him the most consistent positive attention. That is the beginning of loyalty.

My own loyalties are very specifically ordered: Family, Faith, Friends, Humanity, Planet Earth. I am loyal to government when it treats the common people with love and respect. My loyalty to the Human Race requires standing up, when there is a widespread disregard for dignity and worth-no matter the source of that disdain. Furthermore, I see no conflict between standing up for my family and standing up for the planet. My family’s survival needs a healthy environment. I don’t want my granddaughter, or anyone else, ingesting a host of microplastics or breathing in Diesel fumes, generated by someone who is angry at Elon Musk, or at the environmental movement.

I am loyal to the Baha’i Faith. That also means that I show reverence and respect towards all creeds that are based on the Golden Mean. All knowledge comes from the Divine, else it is contrived, and is not true knowledge at all. We have never been left alone, nor will we ever be.

I am loyal to my friends, no matter how long it has been since we’ve seen one another or how often we may communicate. Many are overwhelmed by life and have both my daily blessings and constant thought. My loyalty should never be measured by how much money I spend on a person. I have a few in my circle, who are transactional. The only time I hear from them is when they are short on cash. I occasionally help one family with the basics, but generally speaking, I prefer my charity to be that which helps larger groups of people.

My loyalty to Humanity reflects a conviction that “all means all.” I don’t make a distinction between “rightwingers” and “leftwingers”, Christians and Muslims, citizens of one country as opposed to those of another. My only guidepost is to be discerning, as to the basic human rights of a given person. Even a tyrant has inherent dignity. If he/she chooses to squander that dignity, that is not a choice made by me. I will not harm anyone, but neither will I allow them to harm me or anyone close to me.

My loyalty to Earth lies in being as responsible a steward of what is in front of me and of the planet as a whole. Minimal trash, maximum recycling, regular maintenance and proper use of my motor vehicle, respect and kindness towards all life forms, to the greatest extent possible, conservation of resources-all these add up, when practiced regularly.

Loyalty begins with self-respect and is reflected outwards.

Worlds Within A World, Part V

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May 18, 2026- Mom once said, a boy becomes a man at forty. In my case, it was more like sixty-five.

As my son left for Navy Basic Training, at Great Lakes, north of Chicago, I determined that I would set out for parts unknown. I found that I had a flat tire, so that impulse faded and I went back to the Phoenix house. Two weeks later, I packed what I needed and drove to the family house in Prescott. I spent a few days, then went back and gave away five extended cab pickup loads to Goodwill. My auto body mechanic, Bill, all 6’9″ of him, hauled the stuff away, for $300 and my rocking chair. I loaded a few more boxes with me to take to Prescott, but before I closed up the Phoenix house and drove off, the place had one last hook to sink into me: When I turned off the washing machine faucets, the cold water valve broke. I managed to get to the shutoff bib, before too much water had leaked, but there was drywall that needed replacing, as well as the valve. I bartered with my landscaper, who lived down the street and was willing to do the work: The washer and dryer, a freezer and $200 worth of tools. I left the house keys with him and drove on up to Prescott.

Prescott world (2011-25) was the longest I lived in any one town since Saugus. I would go back and forth to Phoenix, until the sale closed, in 2013, but how I recovered and where, was all on me. I took to the road, a fair number of times, going back to the East Coast at least once a year, often twice. California, Nevada and the Pacific Northwest became regular haunts. I managed to re-visit every state, except Montana and North Dakota, plus several parts of Canada. The Philippines nearly became a second home, and I returned to South Korea for the wedding of Aram and Yunhee. I made it to Europe twice, visiting sixteen countries. Any one of those places could feel like home, and there were parts that did. Prescott, and Arizona, were always a delight to which to return. I devoted myself to hikes, both long and short, as well as soaking up the history of the Grand Canyon State.

Community service filled my days: Paid service in the form of substitute teaching and sweat equity, in Baha’i activities, at the Farmers Market, the Red Cross, Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, various events held by Slow Food- Prescott and a few activities of the American Legion. I paid back all the kindness that the town and surrounding area had shown us in 1992 and 2000-01. Most important, though, was that I regained the self-respect that had been bled from me, during the long period in the desert. I stood up to grifters and thugs, at least five times, during my time in Prescott, acquiring more stamina in the process.

I bid farewell to my mother, both of my in-laws and a fair number of extended family and friends, during this time. Each one gone, though, just made a place in my heart-so that it got bigger. I fell in love again, and might have even sought to re-marry, but for the birth of my beloved granddaughter. This event put an end to Prescott world and opened yet another phase. Plano world began on New Year’s Day.

Worlds Within A World, Part IV

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May 17, 2026- In January, 1998, Penny fell over her parents’ service dog, who was sleeping by our door, at the family home in Prescott. The resulting head trauma seemed slight, but we consulted a physician in Flagstaff, who treated her and monitored the situation. We had five more fairly good years, thereafter.

I learned three things from Chilchinbeto: Good-hearted people stand by one who keeps their best interests top of mind; those interested mainly in power and control have little concern for those best interests; troubled people need more time for their issues to be addressed, than is frequently allotted. My time there ended in May, 1999. Five other people succeeded me as Principal of that Community School, in a span of six years. The fifth person finally managed to stay more than a year, and achieved what I had planned to do in a second year. She did this in 2005. Sometimes, even the basic and the obvious must wait for the mud to settle and for the clouds to pass.

The Low Desert world (1999-2011) took us to Salome, where a former mentor was Superintendent of Schools, and needed an Acting Principal to serve one year, until a local favourite could get his certificate. That man was Assistant Principal, while I was there. Penny was the Special Education Teacher. My strength was in building a network, across the sprawling expanse of desert communities, visiting each of the feeder elementary schools once a quarter and meeting with the parents and community leaders, in each of the seven towns and villages within the District, once a semester. Advocating for the students and teachers also proved fairly successful.

We left Salome after a year. I got a Principalship at a school for adjudicated girls, outside Prescott and we lived there and in Mesa, outside Phoenix, during the 2000-01 academic year. I left that position after only seven months, due to physical and emotional exhaustion. It was at that point that I decided to focus mainly on substitute teaching and being available to go to Mesa, while Penny was enrolled in classes in technology, which she saw as being a major thrust in the economy in the years ahead.

In August, 2001, we took an apartment in Phoenix, Penny went to work full time in the Dysart Unified School District and I worked at two different schools in Phoenix, as well as doing part time work for an inventory service. The attacks on New York and the Pentagon foreshadowed what was ahead for us, and in April, 2003, two further incidents of head trauma started my wife’s physical decline in earnest. I was her caretaker from then until her passing in March, 2011. During that time, life went on, to the best of our collective ability. She worked until February, 2007, earned her third Master’s Degree-this one in Educational Technology. Our son graduated high school in 2006, tried his hand at community college study, but was mostly focused on his mother.

We purchased a home, shortly after Penny’s third fall, in May, 2003 and got off to a fairly good start in paying the mortgage. Then the housing bubble burst and our medical debt piled on. We learned the limits of our finances, and of the patience of some employers. With guidance from family and our own determination, we stuck together. I would never have left her; that is not how I was raised. I wanted to also set the example for our son, that no earthly challenge is insurmountable.

In 2010, Penny spent the year in a specialty hospital and I split my time between teaching assignments and her bedside. I partially renovated the house, painting the outside and much of the interior, and replaced the carpets, with help from our next door neighbour. My only regret is that I didn’t finish the interior painting, before Penny passed. In the end, I had to set priorities-and, with the house in short sale, the Low Desert world was coming to a conclusion.

We laid Penny to rest, Aram joined the Navy in July, 2011, and I began to pick up the pieces and show the world that there was still a purpose to my presence. The Prescott world began in August, 2011.

Worlds Within A World, Part III

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May 16, 2026– As Penny and I settled into our temporary digs, in Osan, South Korea, the most compelling concern our American host had was that we not cross the chopsticks. It turned out to not be a problem for either of us-we knew how to use the implements already, having dined in several Chinese and Thai establishments in Arizona. There were aspects of Korean society that took more adjusting, but I learned to put the group first, to master the art of saving the face of anyone with whom I might be in conflict and to properly bow, in greeting a social equal or a superior. I adored the music, both traditional and pop, the eagerness to learn of my students, and the reverence for nature shown by most Koreans.

Most of our Korea years (1986-92) were spent on the holiday island of Jeju, a four season paradise, which had yet to attract the intensive Chinese and Japanese investment that has led to overdevelopment in the southern and north central parts of the island. It was another place that, in retrospect, was a five-year blessing. We were each Visiting Professors of conversational English, and taught our students in a holistic manner, linking speaking with reading and writing in our native tongue. We came to learn “market” Korean and to be able to read words written in Hangul. Our son was born there, and was blessed with a lifelong love of the country and its people.We spent a fair amount of time in Seoul, Daegu and Busan, as well, and before I left, I made a bus trip around the periphery of the country. We visited the island of Taiwan, also, establishing heart connections with both Han Chinese and Native Taiwanese people, while teaching the Baha’i Faith and engaging in community service. There are people in both countries who, while I am unlikely to see them again, will be deep in my heart always.

Baha’ullah admonishes His followers to choose honouring our parents over even direct service to His Cause. In January, 1992, Penny’s parents made it clear that they were hurting, both physically and emotionally, from not seeing their only grandson but once a year. So, we moved back to Arizona, where they lived in Prescott, six months of the year and in Bedminster, NJ, the rest of the time. We spent six months in Prescott, and I each worked as a substitute teacher, while Penny remained home with our toddler son. “Home”, during this time, ranged from a motel room to a townhouse. I admit to having been a bit shaky, emotionally, going from a high status position, where I was revered by many, to starting from scratch, as a temporary instructor. This was saved by a return to the Navajo and Hopi Nations (1992-99).

I was again a counselor, and Penny taught Second Grade for two years, then became a literacy specialist, using the Collaborative Literacy Intervention Program (CLIP). During this time, I was elevated by my second building principal, herself a seasoned counselor, to providing a holistic counseling program that included vocational and leisure time skills, as well as psychological and emotional counseling. I also completed my school administration credential, and in 1998, left Jeddito, where we had become settled, to try my hand at running a Navajo Community School. I had become a strong presence in the lives of many students in the Cedar Unified School District, and helped save a few lives. Ambition became a trap, though, and I learned. once again, in my year at Chilchinbeto, that there are people working in a school and living in the community, for whom the actual well-being of children is a secondary concern, at best. By the spring of 1999, Penny was starting to show signs of physical and cognitive decline, I was let go by the Governing Board at Chilchinbeto, and we found ourselves in the small desert town of Salome. As with Tuba City and Jeju, there are people in Jeddito and the Hopi Mesas who I will cherish.always, even if I don’t see them again.

Worlds Within A World, Part I

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May 14, 2026- When I was serving in VietNam, my mates referred to the United States as “The World”. It was obvious that this was a euphemism, that the consensus was our homeland was, in effect, the place that mattered above all else. Our world was where family, closest friends and, for many, their sweethearts were waiting.

I have always been a globalist, seeing the people of other nations as having equal importance to me and mine, in the bigger picture. Yet, as I look at my life thus far, periods of time can be centered on a particular place, for a given number of years. Thus these 75 years have seen the following worlds.

The Saugus world (1950-1969)- Although I was born, and lived my first six months, in nearby Melrose, most of my growing up years were spent living in two houses in Saugus, Massachusetts. My wanderlust primarily saw me going around different neighbourhoods of the town, or to neighbouring Lynn. Mashpee, on Cape Cod, and the area between North Conway and Franconia, NH were part of the Saugus World, as they were our family vacation haunts. Other places in eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire and southern Maine were gradually added to my world-with Boston only entering the list in 1964, when I went with my father on the Freedom Trail. Camping, hiking and body surfing became my idea of fun during the Saugus years. I connected with a small group of neighbourhood kids, was in my share of scraps, had crushes on girls and attempted to attend college, then dabbled in factory work-neither of which my unfocused mind met with success.

The Army world (1969-72)- Training for, and working in, postal work took me away from Saugus. Home was, successively, in Fort Jackson, SC; Fort Benjamin Harrison, IN; Fort Myer, VA; Long Binh and Cholon, VN. I was happiest when on the job, then. I had a few close buddies, but mostly kept to myself. During training, I stayed put, save for a “Most Improved Trainee” weekend pass to Myrtle Beach, SC and a few weekend nights in Columbia and Indianapolis. While in Fort Myer, I became well-acquainted with Washington, DC and learned the train and air shuttle routes between Washington and Boston. Viet Nam obviously was a constricted period, though I took R&R in Sydney for a few days and enjoyed a day in Vung Tau, a beach town near Saigon.

The College World (1972-76)- Once out of the Army, I was more focused and completed Associates and Baccalaureate work, living the first two years again mostly in Saugus, save a brief residence in Beverly, near the campus of North Shore Community College. During this time, I went on a week’s road trip to Prince Edward Island, went to Montreal and Quebec Ville, three or four times, worked several part-time jobs and hit the club scene way too often. I lived in and around the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, for the last two years of this period. Northampton and South Deerfield replaced the Orchard Hill dorms as home, during my last 1 1/2 years of school.

The Maine world (1976-78)- Not all of my life decisions have been good ones. After graduating college and substitute teaching in Saugus and North Reading, with limited success, I went back to a resort in Maine, where I had worked two years earlier. Life at Quisisana was maudlin at best, but I made busing tables a focus and the summer passed nicely. At summer’s end, with no job prospects in eastern Massachusetts and no real attachment to the Amherst area, I went north, to Bangor, as it was near Orono, where I had paternal relatives,and an ancestral connection in Old Town. There was a young lady to whom I was drawn, but it fizzled quickly. I got a small tutoring gig, then a job teaching Emotionally Disabled middle schoolers, followed, the next year by a stint as Title I Tutor. Bangor, Brewer and Dexter were my anchor towns, Etna-Dixmont School paid the bills and the mountains near Kingfield were my solace. I explored all parts of Maine and a good chunk of New Brusnwick, during this time.

After my second year of treading water, it was time to move along. Arizona beckoned, and thus came another world.

The Fable of the Carrots

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May 13, 2026- I read this to Hana this afternoon. “Once there was a rabbit who had gathered so many carrots, that he had no room in his house. He went about, asking his friends for a place to sleep.” Long story short, he crowded a turtle, a bird and a beaver out of their homes, as he brought many of his carrots along with him. Eventually, he brought his friends with him back to his house, and shared the carrots with them.

She will hear this story again and again, as her parents and I teach her about the importance of not hoarding, and of sharing. She sees us sharing, constantly, so it will not come as a surprise to her that this is expected.

I thought, after the activity, of the dynamics of hoarding; of how it reflects the insecurity of the person amassing, whether it is of money, land, or physical items. The rabbit in the story had so many carrots with him that the branch, on which the bird’s nest sat, broke and the beaver’s house became top-heavy from the overload, and fell into the river. Is the excess of wealth that we see among the oligarchs not the same?

To a certain extent, no one can assess for another, as to how much the other person needs, but billions of dollars are like the carrots in the fable: Both an unwieldy burden and a nuisance to those around the owner. The rabbit ends up deciding to share his excess, to make it up to his friends. Some billionaires have made similar decisions; others give a fair amount of money away to charity, each year, and share with loved ones. The hoarders, though, are going to be faced, sooner or later, with the sky high pile that poses more problems than it relieves.

I am waiting to see who will end up in which group-sharer, or hoarder?

Hands and Knees

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May 9, 2026- Hana used her knees to move herself forward to day. She crawled forward without anyone serving as a backstop for her feet. This has been something she’s wanted to do for at least three weeks, and today, the connection clicked. She is not a quitter, and I told her I was proud of her.

Seeing the little girl keep at something, until it happened, brought me back to her father learning to ride a bicycle and, a few months later, how to swim. He was five. The earlier milestones he met all happened when I was at work: His first crawl, his first steps and his first unmimicked words. I will be around for Hana’s little victories.

Many times in life, both individually and as a community, setbacks are faced. I don’t know the cosmic reason for this. Maybe it is a matter of needing to revisit a situation and deepen one’s skill sets. Perhaps someone else involved in a process needs the same, and you are just along for the ride.Maybe those opposed to forward progress need to revisit the situation, in a position of power, and be shown, one more time, why their backward focus doesn’t work.

Regardless, getting through the situation, with the equivalent of the hands and knees working in synchronicity, is always essential. Whether the cooperation involves two people or a thousand, commitment, consultation and mutual understanding are the keys. Whether it entails the use of hand tools, power tools or electronics, making sure the devices are appropriate to the job, are in good working order, and that the instructions for their use and care are read, understood and followed, is imperative.

Every task comes back to the hands and knees.

False Equivalence

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May 8, 2026- I read a post, this evening, in which a grown woman complains that a 6-year-old, who has been diagnosed with autism, “conveniently” reins in her tantrums-when there are no flashing lights and sudden noises. My, my!

I am mildly autistic. Much of my more “inconvenient” behaviour has fallen away, over the past few decades. It’s been a while, since I was six year old -or thirteen-or twenty-five. Learning which foods aggravate my neural functioning, and avoiding them, has helped. Meditation and daily prayer also help focus my energies. Maturation, though, has been largely responsible, for changes in my behaviour.

I will say, though, that we still have a society which is poor at recognizing developmental differences between young children, adolescents, young adults and people of “middle age”. I spoke yesterday about magical thinking. People like the complainer in the above-mentioned post tend to indulge in wishful thinking. Too lazy, rigid or ignorant to recognize and accept differences in people, they stage public shaming rituals and look under rocks for reasons to excoriate those with disabilities.

While I, out of common courtesy, have made a concerted effort to evolve my own behaviours in a positive direction, If I encounter a confrontation between a neurodivergent child and an adult, other than a parent*, who is passing judgement, I will stand up for the child. There are ways to calm and refocus an autistic or other neurodivergent person. Confrontation and “tough love” are certainly not among them.

Beside, saying that a 6-year-old should be held to the same standard as an adult is false equivalence and says more about the unmet needs of the complainer than it does about the child.

  • Parents of neurodivergent children are most often supportive of their child and seek non-escaltatory solutions to situations that arise, involving their child.