Category Archives: impediments

Eastbound and Back, Day 14: Universal Mothers

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, children, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 12, 2024, Botwood, NL- Newfoundlanders seem to be fastidious about not mixing strangers at table,in a restaurant- even when the patrons themselves are amenable and there is plenty of space for relative privacy. I noticed this, the last time I was with friends in Grand Bank and again today, at a small cafe in Hampden, a little village between Deer Lake and Grand Falls-Windsor. I found myself seated alone, at a table with eight seats and the hostess steadfastly guarded my space, making a party of four wait until another table had been cleared. I used to be leery of sitting with strangers. Now, if others need a seat and it’s just me at a large table, I invite them to sit.

Anyway, today being Mother’s Day, there were crowds at all three places I took meals: Carriage House, at Glynmill Inn (nice Breakfast Bowl); interesting Crunchy Burger (crispy cod) at Lisa’s Cafe (above-mentioned) and Dannini’s, downstairs from my room at Exploits Inn and Suites, here in Botwood, just east of Grand Falls- Windsor (a bacon grilled cheese, which I brought up here).

Reading another friend’s post on traditions and our need to get together, I thought of all those who deserve honour today: My Mom, who had us all around last weekend, and hopefully saw some family this time; my sister and nieces, all of whom are exemplary stewards of young lives; Penny, who gave the best years of her life to raise our son; Kathy, still giving her all to her sons who are still at home; and all the millions, or billions, of women doing much the same, worldwide. I thought of all the mothers in war zones, and how there will come a day, when they will arise and collectively tell the politicians that no land and no aspiration are worth the sacrifice of their children’s lives.

I am okay, for now, with being on my own on days like this, or even on Father’s Day, because I was raised by people who thought nothing of sacrificing themselves, for my sake and that of my siblings. I was joined, for so many years , by a selfless woman, who gave all she had for her child. I have the privilege of friendship with another woman who lives for the betterment and well-being of her three children.

I have the honour of being treated well, by Mother Earth.

Robert’s Arm, Newfoundland

Oh, it snowed in some places along the way. Here’s a scene that is not far from Glynmill Inn

Eastbound and Back, Day 13: Newfoundland Notes, Part I

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 11, 2024, Corner Brook-

I was able to add this photo, of sunrise on our approach to Channel-Port aux Basques, earlier today. Then, the WP editor kicked in, and announced that “You have no posts”. That was with regard to the app on my i-Phone. That app will remain unused, until I can get that nonsense straightened out. This is one example of why AI will never replace the human mind. AI is quirky, rigid, inflexible. Humans are quirky, too, and can be inflexible, but can be made to see reason. AI is an eternal toddler. Only an adult can guide it to a place of equanimity.

Anyway, upon getting off the ferry, Sportage and I headed to Alma’s Family Restaurant, in a shopping strip mall, east of downtown. A nice young lady, who appeared to be the owner’s daughter, took my order, in business-like but kind fashion. The breakfast was a bit bland, but filling.

Today was a picture postcard Blue Sky day. The storm that folks on Cape Breton warned about, yesterday, has not reached here, yet. So, I headed east, towards Corner Brook which, as you see above, was my destination, after the inadequate sleep I got on the ride over. There was an added concern: Son had a bout of dehydration and is in hospital. I am prepared to cut this trip short, return to Cape Breton and then make my way to Texas, but so far, Aram and Yunhee are not in need of my presence. I will, nonetheless, be in touch with them each day, until he is recovered. While I was sitting still and dealing with that, a young woman, who had been at the gas pumps at the same time as me, was dealing with what sounded like a serious interpersonal issue. She pulled her car behind mine, and stayed close to me, until she felt better enough to drive off. No words were exchanged between us, she just needed someone who felt trustworthy, for about twenty minutes.

After driving around the Stephenville and Gallants areas (Gallant being my Nana’s family name, that of the ancestors who came from France to the Maritimes, by way of Quebec.), I pulled into Corner Brook.

Lake George, east of Gallants.
North Brook, Gallants

A couple of aborted attempts at finding lodging-“We are waiting for our cleaning crew”; no one in the office ended with my taking a room at the majestic Glynmill Inn.

I also took in a couple of Corner Brook’s finer natural areas: The Bay of Islands is bordered by a heartfelt Rock Art Wall, where people have left mementos of what is in their hearts.

Parents’ worst nightmare.
Bay of Islands

There is also a trail, from Glynmill to downtown. Passing by a small pond, it leads to Corner Brook’s unique City Hall.

So, having managed to reach an understanding with AI, I present you, once again, with photos taken on my i-Phone. Hope all is well on your end.

Eastbound and Back, Day 12, Surprise Ferry Ride

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 10, 2024, Aboard the Ferry to Port aux Basques- On a hunch, my host and I went to North Sydney, and checked with the Marine Atlantic office, as I had not received a confirmation of my ticket to Newfoundland, only the deduction from my bank account-back in November. We found that, voila, I was on the manifest-but that there was concern that the ferry scheduled for tomorrow is likely to be canceled, due to rough weather. So, I was given a slot on tonight’s ferry.

Fortunately, my car and belongings were only an hour away, at my host’s place in Eskasoni. After going on a couple of other errands, of mercy and sustenance, and visiting with another person who was experiencing family difficulty, I bid farewell to my hosts and headed to the ferry terminal. Two hours later, here I am on en route back to see some other friends made two years ago, and to see what new friends will appear.

A less pleasant surprise is that my i-Phone and this laptop are no longer connected. Maybe it’s a bad USB cord, so I will see if purchasing a new one, on Sunday or Monday, will let me resume sharing photos. Hmm, it is charging the phone, so maybe it’s not the USB cord that’s the problem. Will try again with the USB port itself, on Sunday or Monday. In the meantime, I will continue to take photos of Newfoundland, using the phone camera-and some day be able to share them on this blog site.

Conversations with my hosts today centered more on pastoral responsibilities. How do we help the sick, the troubled, the homeless, to get back on track. Ernie said that, in a severe situation, we must not let the perfect be a barrier to the good and necessary. If some foods are not organic, or not in keeping with someone’s strict diet-let those foods work, in a pinch. He gave the example of Wonder Bread, which he has yet to see become moldy. Since Ernie is an octogenarian, and I’m not, I give his testament a few grains of salt. Those of us who can afford, and do have access to, healthier options should share them when we can. It is often survival, however, that matters most.

In a few hours, we will dock, so now it’s time to nod off and be ready to drive up to Corner Brook, when the time comes.

Eastbound and Back, Day 11: Practical Feet

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 9, 2024, Whycocomagh- As the master community activist explained his efforts, he referred back to ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s work, during and after World War I and the subsequent outbreak of influenza. No one, Jew, Arab or European, was left out of the food distribution effort, which were dependent on the storehouses He had set up and the fields He had seen be planted, for the very purpose of preventing hunger.

Ernie has spent the past thirty years or so, in establishing a food security system in Eskasoni, a community of Miqmaq (pronounced “Mehkamag”) First Nations people, on the southeast corner of Cape Breton Island. He hit upon this track, both because of his grandfather’s example of providing for those less fortunate and because of the time that he and his wife spent in Boston, where he noted a productive system of Food Banks had been in place.

‘Abdu’l-Baha counseled “walking the mystical path with practical feet”. Ernie was very clear, as I am, that “practical feet” does not mean “materialistic”. The wise use of resources will not leave anyone out and not unduly benefit one person or group to excess. While this has proven elusive, in a great many situations, it is not beyond our capacity as humans to establish an equanimical society.

This first of a two-day consultation on sustainability focused on the system that Ernie and his wife have set up, largely by shopping judiciously, for bargains-mostly in local markets on Cape Breton, but occasionally going to Halifax or Saint John. Being able to buy in bulk, they are better positioned to render strong assistance in hard times. Storage of grains, food dehydration, salting and drying of meat, and canning techniques are also high among this amazing couple’s skill sets.

I look forward to Day 2 of this learning session, which was a serendipitous outcome of the discussion around the 50th anniversary of the founding of Eskasoni’s Baha’i Spiritual Assembly. The intensity of the lessons I am learning are making this visit astonishingly illuminating.

Eastbound and Back, Day 9, Part 2: The Tides and Their Reversals

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2024, Shediac- The swirling waters reminded me of pictures, both painted and photographic, that I’ve seen of Skaggerak and Kattegat, between the North and Baltic Seas. The currents near the confluence of the Bay of Fundy and Saint John River are nowhere near as intense as the Scandinavian maelstroms, but they do appear, for all the world, like reversing waterfalls. The phenomenon here is the result of the interaction between the Bay and the River, and as you might guess, is most intense at high tide.

I stopped here, on the west side of Saint John, to take in this phenomenon which, along with Moncton’s Magnetic Hill, is one of New Brunswick’s signature geographic anomalies. Here are a few shots of the festivities, from both the base of the hill and from the window of the concessionaire’s dining room, which had just closed for the day.

Reversing Falls, Saint John, NB, from Wolastoq Park

Reversing Falls, from base of hill.

Reversing Falls, from concessionaire’s restaurant

Wolastoq Park, on the hill above the Falls, commemorates key figures in New Brunswick history, by means of tall wooden carved likenesses. Here are three such statues. First is Benedict Arnold, the skilled,discounted hero of Ticonderoga who became synonymous with treason in the emerging United States. He ended up being cast out of Canada, as well, ending his days in London.

Next is the more well-regarded Sir John Robertson, a philanthropist of the mid-Nineteenth Century, who fought for the well-being of the common person.

Then, there was Francoise-Marie Jacquelin, who fought far more powerful men to defend her husband’s economic bastion: Fort La Tour. Though she lost the fight, in the end, Francoise stands as a clarion caller to women and girls who seek to make their rightful mark in the world.

Finally, there is a depiction of the legend of Koluscap, the First Man of the Maliseet, as well as of my Penobscot ancestors, putting a selfish Beaver in his place, after Beaver’s dam deprived the Maliseet people of the water they needed to survive. Beaver lost his giant size, the story goes and is forever consigned to be a small animal.

Saint John was, thankfully, not at rush hour, so I headed east to the town where my Nana’s paternal forebears first arrived on North American soil. Shediac was a place of refuge for my great-great-great grandfathers, who had come here from Quebec, in the mid-Eighteenth Century, following the attempt by the English to deport French-speaking residents of that colony, after the fall of Montreal and of Quebec-Ville. So, as with Rouen and Montreal, I feel at home here.

Eastward Bound and Back, Day 6: Tenuous

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 4, 2024, Wakefield, MA- Mom is in stable condition, though her speech is slower. She still has a firm grip and was glad to see me standing at her side, in the dining room of her upstairs wing. My brother and sister-in-law came in, after a bit, and we whiled away the afternoon, watching a golf tournament-still among her favourites.

Driving out from Shelburne Falls reminded me of the drive that I made, between Amherst and Saugus, in my university days. It also, towards its mid-section, reminded me of the days when we would bundle into the car and go furniture shopping, in the small town of Templeton- a premier place for home furnishings, even today. We would invariably end up at Twin Tree Cafe, a family restaurant, owned by “Uncle” Pete Carbone, in Maynard, about forty minutes further east. The Concord Rotary, which used to be a typical Northeast free-for-all, is now regulated with YIELD signs, that temper impatient Massachusetts drivers, somewhat. I didn’t hear a honked horn behind me, until much later today-but that’s a minor detail. The drive up I-95, with moderate slowing at the major interchanges, was not bad at all.

I was glad to get together, this evening, with my siblings and two of their spouses- along with a nephew whom I hadn’t seen in six years. This was a night for a fried clam & onion rings fix, which happens once or twice a year, at best, and can only be done properly in New England-just as crab cakes are best enjoyed in the Chesapeake region, or salmon is best, when in the Northwest. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Our banter this evening reminded me that next to oneself, a person’s harshest critics can be siblings-but so are one’s strongest supporters. It all boils down to the level of caring-which cuts both ways, and is never tenuous, no matter how fleeting our presence is in one another’s lives. As Mom remains on a comfortable plateau, we will take our turns, holding her hands and assuaging her fears, as best we can. In the end, we will honour her by staying close.

Eastbound and Back, Day 3: “When the Stars Begin to Fall”

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 1, 2024, Goshen, IN- With those words, from the immortal gospel song, George, the Director of the Welcome Center at the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, Illinois sent our spirits soaring. What a glorious morning it had already been, on as afternoon progressed, I was delighted to join the the celebration of the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, commemorating the day, in 1863m when Baha’u’llah and His entourage left the Garden of Ridvan, outside Baghdad, and began the long journey to what is now Istanbul.

I was a bit under-dressed for this occasion, yet the message on my tee was proper: “Created noble”. We all are, don’t you know. I was honoured to be able to convey gratitude to George, after the ceremony, as refreshments were served in Foundation Hall, under the glorious auditorium, where prayers are said aloud on special occasions, such as this, but are mostly offered in silence, by members of all Faiths- and positive thoughts by those of no Faith. I was delighted as well to meet, in person, the distinguished long-time Choral Director of the House, Van Gilmer, whose music has enkindled so many of our spirits, over the past five decades.

This is a phone camera-only journey, my digital camera being given a rest, in advance of a heavy schedule, the rest of this year. So, here are a few scenes of the “Mother Temple of the West”, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha described it, accompanied by scenes of Wilmette’s majestic Gillson Park, which neighbours the House grounds, and of beloved Lake Michigan.

Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Lilacs in bloom, west garden of the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Wallace Bowl, the amphitheater of Gillson Parl, Wilmette

Lake Michigan, from Gillson Park.

The Baha’i House of Worship, from Wilmette Harbor

So proceeded a glorious day. I felt a bit of disconnect, between my physical state and consciousness- though thankfully not quite on the order described by the author. Salman Rushdie, following his having been attacked by a young man during a ceremony he was attending, a few years back. I felt, all day, as if I was moving in a different realm, while being fully aware of, and connected with, those around me.

Nonetheless, I was able to render some service, during the visit, to guests who were at the Temple for the first time, and to convey thanks and appreciation to George and Van, for the excellent program. After leaving the sacred site, I found traffic along I-94 southbound, relatively light. It took about 45 minutes to get from the Dempster turnoff to the Ohio Street exit. After the I-55 interchange, things lightened up even more and there was virtually no one using the Skyway.

It was a tired, but happy, Schroeder family who greeted me for a short dinner respite and some catching up, from my last visit. Things were bustling and chaotic, for Val and Sparky, so I did not stay long, once dinner was done. I was also dragging a bit, by then, so the choice was made to settle into the Super 8, in this fine community, about an hour southeast of Mishawaka. Other friends here are also indisposed, so it will be on to Ohio and Pennsylvania, tomorrow afternoon. I am sorry to have to pass up Indianapolis this time, as well, yet it is critical to be where Mom is, by Saturday.

Let’s close, for now, with this rendition of “When The Stars Begin to Fall”, by the ’60s inspirational group, The Seekers.

The Myth of Finality

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

April 28, 2024, Gallup- As I was walking to breakfast, at Post 6, this morning, one of the dogs who customarily run up to their owners’ fence and barks his head off, was true to form. A raven began flying in circles, above the dog, and cawed loudly, mimicking the dog’s bark. Animals can hassle each other like that.

So, too, do we humans seem to think it is our due, to hassle one another. I give you the current version of “Forward, into the past!”-Right-wing students, mixing with peaceful protesters and yelling for a renewal of “The Final Solution”. There is no real concern about the Palestinians who have suffered, no desire to see justice for Gaza, just a re-hash of Nazi propaganda-blaming Jews in this country and around the world for the destruction that has come from two groups of extremists fighting one another. Palestinians, in Gaza, have asked that the hatred against ordinary Jews be stopped. It is, they note, not helping their search for justice.

I have relatives who are at least a quarter, or half, and in a few cases full-blooded Jewish. I have many more, both Arab and Jew, who I count as friends. None of them hate the others. Growing up, my parents counted both Arabs and Jews as friends. It is thus second nature.

In Creation, there is no permission given by the Divine, for one group of people to slaughter another. The deluded young man who called for the deaths of all Jews can quote Mein Kampf all he wants, but if he follows through, he deserves full punishment, under the law. I say the same applies to anyone calling for the deaths of all Arabs. Enough is enough! If someone, or a group, attacks a Jew, or an Arab, in my presence, I will stand for the intended victim-nonviolently, mind you, but I will stand in defense of the one being attacked.

Today is the anniversary of Baha’u’llah’s Declaration of His Mission, to unite mankind, both spiritually and materially. We Baha’is celebrated, worldwide. There are fellows in Faith who are of Jewish descent, as Penny was and there are fellows in Faith who are of Arab descent-in fact, there are Baha’is in virtually every ethnicity, across the planet. We stand for the oneness of mankind. There is no room for anyone to act on genocidal thoughts, of any kind. There is no such “final solution”.

In a few days, I will be at the Baha’i House of Worship, in Wilmette, Illinois, north of Chicago. I try to visit there, each time I head east, for family visits. The magnificent Temple helps me ground self spiritually. This time, I hope to see both Jewish and Arabic visitors, among the multitude that is there, on any given day.

The only finality should be love.

Diligencia

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

April 25, 2024- The rain came down in buckets, ending three weeks of dryness and keeping the fire danger down for another month or so. I had a room full of Kindergarten English-language learners, who noted that it was raining-again (“Otra vez”) and they hadn’t been out all day. They continued to work on their foldable stories, we read them, they highlighted their sight words, the first letter of each sentence and the punctuation mark at the end of each sentence-and then we played. They built little “forts”, by moving chairs and cushion pillows, while a timer counted down. When the time ran out, the screen said “Poof”, and the hamburger on the screen disappeared. Then the kids did-actually, just going back to their classrooms, after putting everything back.

The others, first and second graders, were equally diligent. Even those, especially those, who had minimal competency in English, applied themselves to their tasks with a drive that people in high school would do well to emulate. They let no time elapse, when finished with one task, before asking what was next, and diving right into it.

That made me think. What happens in the lives of children to turn a hard worker into a dodger, a slacker? Some who go through a slacking phase, and then get their bearings and turn into productive adults, can say it was due to the adults in their lives being alternately overbearing and overindulgent. Others gave in to peer pressure, and others were just testing the limits. In the end, though, those who’ve turned themselves around have looked back at the real “good old days”, when their classmates and they were getting satisfaction from learning, going home to parents who were genuinely proud of their achievements.

The fog of insolence can sink in as early as 7-years of age (I saw one, a scowl on his face, as he waited for his teacher to open the classroom door, while my students and I were walking towards the ELL room). It will likely take a lot of diligence, on the part of educators and social service professionals, to turn his life around. Such a shame. The high achievers will walk on past him, but the smartest among them will stop, turn around and hold out a caring and insistent hand.

Viva diligencia!

Nonstop Talking

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 24, 2024- I asked myself, how long would I last, as a nonstop talker, before someone broke out the duct tape-or everyone just up and left, even if-especially if- I was in the middle of my 286th sentence.

Then I began to think about how I am, myself, towards nonstop talkers. If they are children in a class, I appeal to the their recognition “that there is an agenda, set by the regular teacher, who has to honour the hierarchy from the State Legislature to the State Superintendent to the County Superintendent to the District Governing Board to the District Superintendent-to…” until a bright shining face offers….”Now who’s the nonstop talker?”

If the nonstop talker is a shut-in, chances are the monologues will be looped, and I will be able to repeat them, verbatim, after about a month of visits. I will still visit, though, and still listen, because this could be me one day. Besides, when every day sounds the same, it’s partly because every day is the same.

If the motormouth has encyclopedic knowledge of ten different subjects, I will want to be seen and not heard, because there are significant gaps in anyone’s knowledge, and we need to check-in with each other, and the nonstop thinker who can put thoughts into words deserves a full platform.

These thoughts came to mind, this evening, as I witnessed nonstop talkers, talking over one another. Thankfully, they each came to a happy medium and let each other have the dais, for a few minutes at a time. I would not do well, as a nonstop talker.