Staying Golden

2

March 13, 2020-

As it happened, Friday the Thirteenth saw the climate of upheaval hit a pause button,at least as far as society as a whole was concerned.  Of  course, COVID19 has yet to run its course, and many are out of work, however temporarily.  Remedies,though, are in the offing, both medically and economically.  Perhaps, by next Tuesday, toilet tissue will be on the shelves, for more than an hour, again and there will be a sense of recommitment to work and study, as colleges and universities at least adjust to online curricula and some level of financial support comes from a Congress that is intending to work through the worst of the crisis.

This is the first open-ended challenge that humanity, as a whole, has had in a good many years.  The other such calamities had human faces:  The Axis Powers; Mao’s Cultural Revolution; September, 2001’s terrorist attacks.  There were natural catastrophes that were more specific, in terms of dates and locations:  Each of the last three viral epidemics; the hurricanes of 2005-until present;  the great wildfires and ensuing floods; the many tornadoes, most recently those that hit central Tennessee.

It is being,and will be, handled better than at the onset.  Governments are learning that the commitment to public welfare needs to be specific, all hands on deck and long-term.  The people are learning that there are times, when being physically distant is an act of love.  Both institutions and individuals are learning to trust science.

We are learning what the Gold Standard, in institutional and social life, actually means.

High and Low Alike

0

March 12, 2020-

Somewhere, a president feels a fever coming.

Two hundred miles to the north,

a soybean farmer lies in bed,

isolated from all save his loving wife.

Far to the north, another country’s

First Lady is quarantined.

Her Prime Minister-husband

is in self-isolation.

A fisherman, in a village,

well to the east,

won’t be casting his net,

for at least a month.

The trader, who was hoping

to make a killing in smuggling

parrots from Brazil,

has just been told “No go”.

The area from which he was heading

is in a Red Zone.

There will be no plane flights,

until further notice.

The parrots can sing

in freedom,

for now.

COVID Forbids It?

12

March 11, 2020-

I see that there are an increasing number of situations where large gatherings are being canceled, or are being put off limits to the public, because of contamination fears.  While I draw the line, at least for now, with regard to small gatherings in COVID- 19 free communities, such increased vigilance at larger events is only prudent.

There is also the financial consideration.  Those of us, myself included, who are not rushing to the gates, with regard to our investment accounts, do have a responsibility to leave as much as possible alone, so as to not be locked into the temporary Bear Market setbacks that may very well last well into Spring.

There is no immunization protocol for this virus, so prevention measures-including sanitation, are only to be supported and followed, rather than be the brunt of jokes.  I am prone to keeping myself and my area clean, anyway, so this new reality, for however long it lasts, does not pose any great change in the way I do things.

The rest of March, April and May are pretty much cut and dried, as far as what I am doing around here.  Should COVID-19’s aftermath be more severe than I currently think it will be, I can very easily cancel service-and -family-related travel plans for summer.  There’s enough to be done around Home Base, so even if the “quarantine” is more financial than governmental or medical, I will delay making any rock-solid plans for June, July and August, until mid-May.

Having been a caretaker, for eight years, in the 2000’s, this potential set of restrictions is quite mild.

Transference

8

March 6, 2020-

I went into work early today, to have a conversation with my supervisor as to her assessment of my work so far.  I had a concern about how well I was being accepted by the close-knot staff, as there have been some expressions of hostility this week.

I need not have worried.  Both my supervisor and co-teacher are more than satisfied with the work I’ve done up to now.  They both want me to stay and finish helping our special needs student-and I will.

The legacy of Penny’s time and energy with me is, primarily, that she helped me get out of my own little world, giving up alcohol straightaway in 1981, being more present and comfortable in the presence of others, than I had been before we met.  It was, arguably, the first time I truly felt accepted by a woman, outside my family, since high school-when I had relatively little trouble getting along with my female schoolmates-even if I didn’t see myself as “dating material”.    Thus, what I viewed as rejection by others had much to do with my self-rejection.

Penny helped me transcend a lot of my self-doubt.  Some of it resurfaced, in the first years after her passing, but gradually, with travel to Europe, Oahu and northwestern North America, I began to recognize that I was not unworthy of acceptance and true friendship, from a wide variety of people.

My tent is huge.  I like people from a number of backgrounds- so whether their musical tastes are Classic Rock, European Classical, Country, Bluegrass, Zydeco, Blues, Jazz, Hip-hop,  Metal, ( but not “Death Metal”), Powwow songs or Folk, I enjoy their gatherings.  Whether someone is a person of size, svelte, or (like me) somewhere in between, it’s everything else about them-their character, primarily, that matters far more.  The same goes for other physical attributes.  Ditto, with political leanings, so long as the individual is not clamouring for the death and destruction of those with opposite leanings, be they conservative or liberal.  I like my friends to leave their silos and, at least occasionally, listen to the opposite point of view with open ears and minds. Everyone has a piece of the Truth.

So, the most influential soul ever to grace my world still has a day-to-day impact on how I view myself.  The spirit tells me to exude love for those around me, as well as for my own self, as life is hard enough for most people.

Nine Years On

10

March 5, 2020-

As my dear love got ready to go on to her next spiritual journey, I was driving with our son to her hospice.  Random road construction set us back, about three minutes.  As we got to the door of the facility, a slight spiral of air brought leaves and dust upward, on an otherwise still morning. I knew she was not able to hang on, any longer.

It’s been nine years, since that hard March morning.  Each anniversary since, I’ve taken stock of where I am.  The bottom line is that I am able, in general, to do what she and my other spirit guides tell me is necessary.  I feel her presence, constantly.

There has been a fair amount of travel involved, to accomplish the goals that she and I had set for our later years.  There are both family (biological and extended) visits and journeys on behalf of our shared Baha’i Faith.  There are acts of service to the developmentally disabled, whose education was Penny’s life’s work.  There is embracing  a community, in its pursuit of sustainable culture.  There is facing down all the negative forces that threaten the lives, and livelihoods, of so many-from the capriciousness of politics and finance, to the mind games that play out in interpersonal relationships.

These things always concerned Penny and sometimes “drove her nuts”.  There was one thing that kept her steady, even in the darkest of days:  Her faith in God and a knowledge that Creation, in its many forms, was eternal.  No corrupt financier, feckless school administrator or greedy medical practitioner ever kept her from realizing her goals.

To this day, I hold all the lessons of her life, dear to my heart.

Nashville

5

March 3, 2020-

The two little boys missed their Mommy,

as the wind sounded for all the world

like a freight train, headed straight towards them.

Daddy was there, and got his two cowboys

to the safe room of their house.

When they talked with their mother,

later on this first horrific day of their young lives,

they learned that she had been safe, too,

throughout.

She was in another part of the country,

doing her work.

A musician friend, who has been ailing,

had to flee her home,

along with her beloved soulmate.

They will go back there,

to recover what’s left,

and then move on,

in the light,

provided by a Loving God,

through the portal

of an enveloping community.

The dead are being recovered,

and will long be remembered,

by a city, state and nation,

which cast their arms around

those left, in neighbourhoods,

vibrant, once, and again.

Nashville, resilient.

How Far?

4

March 2, 2020-

Chris Matthews retired as host of the news show, “Hardball”, with this evening’s broadcast. He’s not someone I have watched very much, if at all.  Talking over one’s guests isn’t something that would have gone over well, when I was growing up.

He comes to mind for a different reason, though. One of the things he is reported to have said this evening, is that he was sorry for constantly telling the women on his program that they were beautiful.

It took  many years, but a former student of mine pointed out, a bit sarcastically, that this is not the first thing a woman, or a girl for that matter, wants to hear about herself, first.  I began, at that point, to think more of the actual skills the person has, and of how to compliment those.  Beauty is not a skill, so however attractive I might find someone, the sensible thing is to focus on what can keep her in the loop, can help her grow.

We might think, in this month that celebrates Women’s History, of just how far we have come, as a species, in the area of gender relations.  My grandparents’ generation would have been mortified, had women gone out on the street in slacks, less-than-full length skirts or, God-forbid, shorts.  Women rarely drove cars.

My parents’ generation saw women exercising more options, when it came to dress, and certainly most women drove cars.  Working outside the home was one area on which progress was a bit lacking-other than teachers, secretaries, cashiers and nurses.

There was a lot of  “break-out”, both socially and vocationally, with my generation.  The Women’s Liberation Movement took me aback, when I got home from Vietnam, in 1971, though it might not have. Young Vietnamese girls were telling us that they heard “Mi “(American) girls were thinking more for themselves, and therefore they, the Vietnamese, expected to do the same. There was an incident where a girl told me I was not her type.  The other guys at the table about fell out of their seats.  I left her alone; then again, I did that routinely in the States, so it was nothing new, for me. For a girl in southeast Asia, though, it was a big step forward.

When women started opening doors for men, letting us board buses first and talking fiercely about not wanting to be on a pedestal, it began to sink in that this Movement was resulting in lasting change, however maudlin it appeared.  It was the beginning of the end for “Prince Charming”, who actually ended up being a villain in one of the more contemporary Disney films.

That has suited me just fine.  I was married to a woman who eclipsed me, intellectually, and, since her passing, have preferred the company of women friends who have clear goals, and make no excuses for their dreams and their drive-in fact, who make no excuses for anything in their lives.

While there is much to be done, as yet, I would answer the question, “How far have we come, in the area of gender relations?”, by saying how proud I am to be in the company of so many who are sure of themselves and can be persistent, with no fear of being pushed back into the corner.

 

By What Measure?

4

March 1, 2020-

This month has not come in like a lion, at least not in Arizona.  Our forecast had called for rain, but bright and sunny, it was.  It may, or may not, rain/snow tomorrow, and that’s the celestial version of Arizona’s independent spirit.

Today was the first day of the Nineteen-Day Fast, during which every Baha’i between the ages of 15-70, who is in good health, is not traveling and not doing heavy manual labour, abstains from food and drink, from sunrise to sunset, for a period of nineteen days.

With my 70th birthday coming in November, this is my last time of such abstaining.  My work schedule is truncated, this spring, for reasons of my own keeping a mission to help a disabled teen.  Thus, the sacrifice appears, at first blush, to be minimal-but we’ll see what transpires.

I spent a couple of hours, this evening, with a small group of college students, whose own mission is to work at building a sustainable society.  This is another passion of mine, one which does not depend on ideological divides or limiting one’s circle of friends, unnecessarily.  The group is led by a confident and forthright young woman, who is close to her family, and by a very independent young man, who lives in his car-by choice.  The two could not be more opposite, yet both represent the commitment to facing the issues being inherited by the three rising generations.

The six of us who gathered at Sustainability Lounge watched the film, “Princess Mononoke”, an anime story about the seemingly inherent conflict between industry and nature.  In it, a minor Japanese noble is wounded by a demonic creature which is attacking villages in a hateful rage.  The nobleman kills the demon, but not without cost to himself.  He embarks on a journey, to find the source of the demon’s rage, fighting and killing samurai and meeting a cryptic “monk”, along the way.

Eventually, the nobleman finds himself in the home area of the Spirit of the Forest, as well as being brought to its opposite, a dingy industrial fortress, where iron is smelted by a mix of lepers and rescued prostitutes.  It is run by a warrior woman, who reminded me obliquely, of Tina Turner’s Auntie Entity, from “Mad Max:  Beyond Thunderdome”.

The predictable ultimate battle takes place, with sub-battles occurring between competing groups of animals and humans alike.  The nobleman meets a young woman who has been raised by wolves, and the two form a tentative, problematic friendship. There are severe losses, and new beginnings, for all the major characters in the story.

This all begs the question:  By what measure do we determine what is beneficial and what is detrimental?

 

 

Playing to Their Strengths

2

February 28, 2020-

Taking advantage of anyone is a sign of weakness.

Few have tried to take advantage of me, lately.

One, who did try, became furious with me,

for saying “No” to his pleas for money.

I do not see this as a loss, for me,

as putting all one’s eggs in a single basket,

is a recipe for disaster.

He’d have done better,

to ask for the help of a group.

I was not his only online friend.

Others in my life now,

are important,

in that my presence is solely

to  help them

build on their personal strengths.

Here, I see a steady progress.

This is always the key:

Help others make the most

of what is already inside them.

 

After the Fire

2

February 27, 2020-

As the back and forth, about who is responsible

for the current rapid meltdown,

drones on,

it is as good a time as any,

to think of ways

that such a collapse

doesn’t happen again.

When it’s run its course,

there will be people,

most of us, actually,

who will have roles to play

and communities to rebuild.

Europe and northeast Asia have done this,

and America has provided the game plan,

so we know what to do.

There are also three things

that ought to be added

to the next recovery plan.

1. Science needs to be de-politicized

and de-monetized.

Yes, research needs financial support,

but with no strings other than

what is inherent to conduct it ,

to completion.

2.  A universal currency,

not as subject to the buffeting

of fear and whimsy,

as the current chockablock arrangement

of so many national currencies,

needs to be established. (Baha’u’llah prescribes this.)

3.  Transparency, borne of confidence,

must replace the secrecy that is the child of fear.

Treat people as if they are capable

of handling the truth,

and they will rise to that level,

even if haltingly at first.

I see a glorious day.