July 25,2025- I have often wondered if a young friend, who is seemingly in perpetual good cheer, ever experiences a downside. It’s a ridiculous musing, as no one escapes periods of downheartedness or disappointment. This morning, she had something of a disagreement with another person, while I was present, and thus my musings were answered. With steady support from a few of us, she shortly thereafter bounced back. Her underlying emotional foundation is solid, the signs of open-heartedness.
In my own experiences, over the past fifteen years or so, the same principle has kept me afloat. I can hardly say that life has been letter-perfect, but even the loss of my wife in 2011 did not result in a severe tailspin that might have ended my own well-being. We can see that there is another level of existence, beyond this one, and I still feel guidance from her spirit, as well as those of many others.
There were two Baha’i gatherings today: A small study session, this afternoon, focused on the purpose of prayer. It is clear that the main purpose is to open one’s heart to the Divine, and thus make possible the means to continued spiritual growth. The second session, this evening, looked at what is meant by “The Kingdom of God on Earth”. Likewise, that state of affairs will come gradually, and will be more realized when the majority of humanity turns to the Divine, and away from the trappings of ego. This may be a long process or one of intermediate length, but I sense that our species is on its way.
There will, no doubt, be shocks and setbacks ahead; however, the hearts of more people are increasingly being opened-either by their own choice or by dint of life taking hold of them, and imparting deep lessons.
July 24, 2025- There are days when a common thread wiggles its way through the ether, and draws in other threads, which become fastened to it, through a process not immediately comprehensible. Today was such a day. The common thread was my task of getting documentation for possible shelter venues for the American Red Cross.
I had completed the first visit, to Page Unified School District, yesterday, and had made it back to Flagstaff, after a stop at Cameron Trading Post for a Navajo Taco meal. Saving about half of it for a second meal, later today, involved some positioning of the container in what is arguably the world’s smallest refrigerator. American Motor Hotel, where I spent last night, is a space-themed gem, looking somewhat like the brightly- painted lodging establishments now fairly common in the Los Angeles area. The in-room refrigerator is, well, unique and “interesting”. It is designed to hold maybe one or two cold beverages, and a couple of sandwiches. I got the meal container in there, by temporarily removing the shelf and inserting the container vertically.
All in all, though, Americana is a great place to spend a night or two, or even make a vacation of it, as there is an outdoor pool, a funky Mexican restaurant on site, a large outdoor patio area with shaded round tables and room decor that is both amusing (a blue orb that shines and rotates, when plugged in) and thought-provoking (framed posters). The congenial desk staff seals the deal, with cheerful attention to every guest and offering reusable metal water bottles as welcome gifts. Thus, my overnight in Flagstaff became a mini-break from the business at hand. Breakfast at an old East Flagstaff favourite, Miz Zip’s, was a further delight, with homemade corned beef hash as a well-enjoyed choice. Sedona, the lone server when I first came in, was cheerful and attentive to all, even as nearly twenty people showed up after I came in and sat down. Mz. Zip’s has lost none of the ambiance it had when I lived here in 1980-81.
East Flagstaff has its share of fun places, but it was time to head out towards Native American Baha’i Institute, a three-hour drive eastward. The ride was smooth, and traffic moderate, especially once I got past Winslow. I got there, greeted those present, in the Navajo way, with a handshake and “Yaa’tey” (Good day), and went over the requisite forms for a Shelter Survey. Then, it was time for a mini-birthday celebration for one of the elders, with cake. A discussion followed, about non-Navajos hunting elk on the Reservation, by using helicopters. It doesn’t surprise me that this is being done, but I expressed my view that the Navajo Nation Council should be the arbiter of such practices. The elders agreed, and one of them has already filed a complaint with his councilman.
Wanting to get back to Home Base by early evening, I bid farewell to the Dineh friends and drove back towards I-40. Close to the entry point, I encountered a lady who said that a car was on fire up ahead. Lo and behold, a Navajo Police officer had parked near the vehicle that was indeed on fire. Saying a silent prayer for the safety of all concerned, I thanked the lady and turned around, being able to warn another driver about the situation, before taking the detour to the highway. A fire truck and water tanker came by, just before I hit the road.
That brings me to the next unanticipated thread. I gave a ride to a Dineh man who was heading, via circuitous route, to his granddaughter’s birthday party, far to the south. Turns out, he has been working for a modular home manufacturing company, which closed its factory in Page, just this week. The situation is complex, but here is a man, one of many, who is being left high and dry. This is the first I had heard of the situation, but it would not be the last. I heard him out, and got him to a location, south of Holbrook, from where he could catch a further ride. The rest of the drive home, via Winslow, Clints Well and Camp Verde, was serene and in fairly light traffic. I enjoyed the rest of the Navajo Taco in the comfort of Home Base I.
Thus did the thread of my main effort, getting the process going for Red Cross shelters in two more localities, find itself interwoven with wildlife conservation and protection, the housing industry’s woes and their effect on workers and their families and the pleasurable lodging and dining options on Flagstaff’s east side. It was a good 48 hours.
July 23, 2025, Flagstaff- I opted not to stop at Horseshoe Bend, following a fairly successful foray up to Page, meeting the school district’s Maintenance Director, for a walk-through of its shuttered Middle School, which we agreed would make an ideal shelter site, during the time when the property is up for sale. Such sales take quite a bit of time, and in the meantime, Red Cross would be able to house a couple hundred people, in the event of a major disaster in the area north of Grand Canyon and close to the northwest corner of the Navajo Nation.
The smoke from two not-too-distant fires is hard on the residents of Page and western Dinetah. Those with whom I spoke, in the school’s offices, were not even sure of how much protection they had, from being inside. Amazingly, the parking lot at Horseshoe Bend was still packed, with tourists braving the smoke and haze, for the chance to perhaps see the iconic twists and turns of the Colorado River, at this spot, which has been characterized as “the East Rim” of Grand Canyon. If that overlook is anything like the view of nearby Waterholes Canyon, the smoke is a perfect screen. A flagger for a nearby road construction project (more misery on the job) was pacing back and forth, near the Waterholes “viewpoint”.
Despite the outward environment, the Maintenance Director was glad for my visit and quite upbeat for the prospects of the Middle School being useful for us, and for the possibility that lack of disaster might obviate such use of the campus. He was also glad that his part in the tour was mostly indoors. I took the parking lots on by myself- getting a count of spaces. It was worth the drive, and the smoke, to cultivate another friend.
After leaving Page and the smoke behind, I enjoyed a lovely Navajo Taco, at Cameron Trading Post, then found my way back here-spending the night at Americana Motor Hotel, before a second Red Cross mission, tomorrow, hopefully establishing a firm connection with Native American Baha’i Institute.
July 21, 2025- Walking to the Soup Kitchen, this evening, I got an urgent call from a friend, needing assistance. Fortunately, someone else was able to render help. I continued on to the Solid Rock and found that there was a shortage of servers, so my presence was actually indispensable. We did manage to finish serving and the clean-up, by 5:30, thanks to a simpler menu than what we had last week.
It was a day of rolling boulders, and though I managed to avoid getting steamrolled, some had a harder time. Friend texted me afterward, and the emergency had been handled-for now. I will keep my calendar clear tomorrow, though, in case there is any repetition. Another friend had enough of a work situation that he saw as unethical, and quit. He will land on his feet.
A mid-sized restaurant chain, mostly in our area, has been shuttered, due to several allegations of misconduct. The branches I have visited offered rather good food, and many of the workers were pleasant people. I hope for justice in this matter. When the boulders roll downhill, though, they are indiscriminate. More and more, that which has been kept dark is being brought to light.
I am choosing to be more discerning about my own actions and statements. That is the best way I can see to not be steamrolled.
July 19, 2025- The feather lay on the asphalt, as I left Sportage and went towards Rafter 11, this evening. Remembering the significance, to First Nations people, of a feather lying on the ground, I glanced back and saw that the wind was carrying it towards the edge of the lot. Figuring it would not be run over and therefore safe, I went across the road to indulge in some hummus with pita and vegetable sticks and to enjoy a cover artist’s collection of country and folk rock tunes. Once I took my seat, glancing down, I saw the same feather that had been across in the parking lot. The breeze had picked up during the time it had taken me to cross the street and get situated, so this did not surprise me.
Dineh, Hopi, Apache (Inde) and other First Nations peoples regard a feather on the ground as a gift from the sky, establishing a connection between the receiver and the bird from which the feather came, by extension another link to the Creator. We live in a time when there is an increasingly tenuous connection between Man and the Nature of which he is a part. I have been in various natural settings, from sandy desert to deciduous urban parks; from Ponderosa and Douglas fir forests to high grasslands and desolate peat bogs; from the middle of the ocean to a Vietnamese rain forest. In each, there is a sign of nature.
Usually, that is something like a heart-shaped rock, of which I have encountered many. So have thousands of other people who are observant. Many of us have also seen animals that appear real, only to not be visible in a photograph, when they were present in the view finder, even as the shutter was pressed. I have been gifted with bird feathers by First Nations friends, over the years, and have carefully placed them in a web, attached to a dowsing stick that was given me by a Dineh friend, twenty years ago. The stick itself has two falcon feathers and a wild turkey feather attached. I also have an eagle feather that was given me by another Dineh friend, and which is attached to a wicker heart that Penny devised, in the early 2000s. I placed the raven feather opposite and slightly underneath the eagle feather.
Whilst sitting and enjoying hummus and strumming, I placed the raven feather in a planter next to my table. I found myself considering the matter of Labor Day weekend, six weeks away. I recently received an invitation to attend a Baha’i school in Colorado Springs. Having attended it three times in the past, it was on my mind this evening. With spiritual energy that I can only sense as coming from the feather, I pondered what is happening here at Home Base I, that weekend. I was reminded that my friends at Farmers Market will be busy preparing for the Farm-to-Table Dinner, a week later and that there may be only three of us who can work the market breakdown on August 30. I was also reminded, earlier this afternoon, that a Peace Day will likely take place on August 31. Then, too, after the Farm to Table Dinner, it’ll be off to Europe, and possibly east Africa ( safety permitting), during September and October.
At the risk of overthinking, I am staying put here, over Labor Day. I love the eastern Colorado friends and will pray fervently for their school’s success. I love the friends here, too.
July 18, 2025- Shortly after the founder of a small online devotional group requested that we say prayers, the co-facilitator launched into an anecdote that seemed to have been on her mind for some time. Those of us who had prayers ready to recite gave her our attention for the ten minutes that it took to share the story. Everyone got their words in, by the time the hour was up. It took flexibility to keep the founder, and others, from cutting off the lady and letting the intense story flow to its end. No humans were harmed in this process.
I was taught to seldom, if ever, take it upon myself to interrupt someone speaking, and much less, people in conversation-no matter how trivial their subject might sound to my ears. It was Mom’s idea of humility-and it has paid dividends, over the years. It also requires flexibility, because let’s face it, each of us regards our own ideas and agendas as being of some import. Giving everyone else the same grace, though, is the first sign that the light of maturity is a long-lasting LED, and not a flickering fluorescent tube.
There is another aspect to the notion of staying flexible in the course of one’s affairs. Certain moral concepts are non-negotiable, if we are to maintain civilized society. Private conversations should remain private. A pledge to help someone needs to be carefully thought out, before it is made; it then, must be fulfilled, to the best of one’s ability. Regard for our fellow humans needs to be held separately from differences of opinion. Recognition of a Higher Power is the bedrock upon which any successful life is lived.
There is plenty of room for flexibility, in each of those concepts. The lubricant of that flexibility is love.
July 17, 2025- I decided to take an early morning breakfast at the newly-opened Gurley Girl Bakery, just up the street from HB 1. The problem was that this is a late-opening establishment (9 am), and it was 8:30. Breakfast came from across the road, at Scooters, which actually has rather good burritos, that remind me a bit of the fare at Glenn’s Bakery, Gallup.
Many times, I have found that being proactive needs to be scaled back, in the face of forces that just aren’t ready for what I have had in mind. I had been thinking that it might be useful to go to the Native American Baha’i Institute today, and conduct a survey for its use as a secondary Red Cross shelter, then return back here this evening, Prudence led to changing the game plan to combining this with a journey up to Page, for a similar effort, next Wednesday and Thursday. It is not often wise to get ahead of the game.
In the late afternoon, I spent some time listening to two men who hold slightly different views form one another, but who have become friends by hearing one another out. Their take is that the nation will do best by taking a Big Tent approach, as has been the case in the most successful years of our nation’s history-indeed of the heritage of most nations. Those who exclude people with whom they disagree are also getting ahead of the game. I have been happiest when among those who can express various points of view, so long as they do not advocate violence against those who disagree with them.
In cases of oppression, those who seem ahead of the game invariably end up finding themselves behind.
July 14,2025- It was a sign that the day was going to see routine matters become complicated. The road scheme, in the neighbourhood where friend’s house is located, is under repavement, which means it is being dug up and will gradually get new layers of asphalt. As with any repavement in a close neighbourhood, there needs to be close cooperation and communication between the workers and motorists. I take care to make sure that there are no misunderstandings, so while a three-minute drive to feed the cats became seven, all was smooth.
Later in the day, I found that Soup Kitchen was laid out more like the Luby’s Cafeteria of old. There was twice the amount of fare available tonight, which was a fine midsummer’s treat for the guests: Three kinds of pizza, angel hair pasta with two kinds of sauce, two types of squash, two salads and a variety of desserts. I was the pasta and sauce person. The cleanup took a bit longer than usual, but the diners were most pleased. The line manager doesn’t always remember my name, yet she does know what I do, and is glad that I show up most weeks.
Back to feeding the cats, after Soup Kitchen, I found that the road work was winding down for the day, but it was still necessary to go slowly around heavy equipment that was being brought into position for tomorrow’s resumption of the work. Mundane tasks can become complex, at any time. It’s a good way to hone the skills of patience and humility.
July 13, 2025- Today was an auspicious day. It is the birthday of my twin sisters-in-law. It is the anniversary of the beginning of a thankfully brief journey down a dark rabbit hole. It is also the anniversary of the passing of a good friend. In brief, July 13 is a mixed bag.
Today here in Prescott and at Bellemont was a peaceful day. The third day of camp was, by all accounts, splendid and people worked together to get the camp broken down and deep-cleaned. Here, I took care of the cats and did scant else, regrouping after yesterday’s full schedule and looking carefully at the fire reports from the North Rim of Grand Canyon. The news was terrifying: Grand Canyon Lodge, the North Rim Visitor’s Center, staff lodging and various cabins were destroyed. Fortunately, all workers and guests had been evacuated before the fire hit.
I never stayed in the Lodge, but enjoyed its lobby’s art and wandering around the neo-Victorian structure. The hotel was a rebuilt version of the original, itself lost in a fire in 1937. It will take time, but the likelihood is that the Lodge will be rebuilt.
I thought a lot today about where I am in the world. How much good am I actually doing? A project I had sponsored in the Philippines, in the first area I visited in that country, has fallen victim to thieves, who took building materials that were intended to improve a children’s school. So many people in this world look back on their own childhood, tell themselves that they were deprived and therefore, it’s okay for them to steal from the children of today.
I was raised to take the bitter with the sweet and to not expect to be put above anyone else. This is not a lesson that is universally taught, and thus we are in a hard place, as a species. Those who place themselves above the rest should not be at all surprised, when in the end, deprivation rears its head and takes back from them what was never due them in the first place. That is just a general observation on the way things tend to transpire.
It has been largely a restful day, but also one that has been bittersweet.
July 11, 2025- Cat # 1 uttered a mild hiss, as I got between her and Cat # 2’s food dish. Somehow, though, when I’m not there, he gets his food and water. It is also hot, and even with AC, the atmospheric doldrums affect animals, making them more sluggish and more testy. Dog Days aren’t just for dogs anymore. So Cat # 1 was fussy. Her housemate was merely listless and content to lie still.
This was my second day of going straight from there to Bellemont. We finished setting up camp and with the campers & crew helping, the process was pretty much done by 2 p.m. I left the operation in my successor’s capable hands and will just check in with him tomorrow. Saturday is a full day, but it is all local activities. It is also a lot less dusty here than at camp. The dust is much thinner than in the past three camp seasons, so there’s that.
There are fires in the area around the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, and its market town, Jacob Lake. Our team is keeping watch on that, through app.watchduty.org, which shows major fires in the contiguous United States, west of the Mississippi River. If a shelter is requested, there will no doubt be some of us involved. I will stay close to Home Base until Wednesday, but will guide anyone who does go to serve.
I found myself a lot calmer and more centered today, than had been the case earlier this week. Kerrville/San Angelo had a lot to do with the agitation. It appears there is more closure for the families, but some victims may not be found for some time yet, if at all. For some, the closure will never be total; everyone mourns in their own way and to none is given the right to question their state of being. I continue to send waves of loving energy to those communities, and to Ruidoso, the earthquake-torn areas of Guatemala, the flood-ravaged areas of Nepal and Pakistan-we are all one people.
A Sagittarian Seeker 