April 15, 2018, Tempe-
I felt like a fish out of water,
yesterday and today.
It’s not that
the place is awful.
It’s quite beautiful here.
It’s not that
the people are disagreeable.
Even in expressing
an alternate opinion,
my fellow Baha’is
are quite loving.
No, the problem was,
I left my do Terra supplements
at home.
These make all the difference,
in my body chemistry.
(Two hours later, in Prescott, I am back on an even keel. This is not a mistake I’ll make again!)
April 11, 2018, Prescott-
It’s no secret, among those who know me, that I am a loving soul. I have no reason to despise anyone, among my wide circle, either in real time or online, and disagreements about politics or religion cannot negate that, at least on my end.
I have had only two real romantic relationships in my life. One lasted a whopping three months, in 1972-going nowhere, because of my immaturity. The other, as most know, was durable, a thirty-year courtship/marriage, cemented by adversity and challenges. My lover became my angel, my spirit guide.
Of course, like many who go through the trauma of loss, there were a couple of cases, after Penny went homeward, where I imagined myself having feelings, above and beyond those of friendship. Fortunately, for all concerned, these did not go very far. No harm, no foul. Both women have fallen off my radar screen, so I hope they are okay.
Right now, other than an occasional message from someone who imagines herself having post-traumatic feelings for yours truly (also not going anywhere), romance and I live separate lives. I enjoy real friendships with several women, across ages, faiths, political mindsets and national boundaries, and very much like it that way.
Friendship has the strictures of honesty, loyalty and mutual respect. Romance, if it does not remain rooted in mutual respect, becomes toxic. Therein lies the fallacy of an affair that comes solely as the result of trauma-based illusion. I thank my loving angel, for guiding me away from the toxic.
April 7, 2018, Prescott-
It’s been 6.5 years, but I remember:
He- “Your life has been one disappointment, after another. Your delivery has been horrible. You SEEM to expect others to carry you along.”
I (Thinking)- “My life is far from over. I may not have my nose to the grindstone, but I am NOT letting one person condemn me to the scrap heap. I may or may not amass the fortune he seems to expect, but I am going to get back to a quality life-on MY terms.”
The uncomfortable morning passed, and I’ve held my own. There has been no fortune amassed, but there is a decent life. I paid the above person back, every cent owed at the time. We have a strong bond, again, and a mutual respect has been rebuilt.
I write this, in response to a young correspondent expressing a high level of self-directed anger, in the midst of a rough patch. Some of us, indeed, hit more than our share of speed bumps, and some are imposed by other people- or by institutions, including governments. There is no limit, however, on how many times one can get back up and continue onward. Remember, Mohandas Gandhi, before he was Mahatma, and when he was a supporter of the South African government, was knocked down, repeatedly, for voicing a difference of opinion with that government. Each time, he got back up, and eventually earned a meeting with the Prime Minister.
This resilience is true, for each area of our life. I am known in my family to be nothing, if not as stubborn as an ox- and this has been the deciding factor, in keeping me alive and well. There is no reason why any person can’t climb out of a hole- despite the depth.
Each of us is more than that.
April 1, 2018, Prescott-
Happy Easter, and Passover, one and all. I have spent much of today, fighting with my WP feed, trying to go back to those posts I missed, last flipping weekend and onward. I have hit upon keeping one window open for my Reader- and one for this side of my site.
This laptop will need to go in for repair soon. To do that, I will finally re-open my account with Geek Squad, the Best Buy Technical Support arm. This will do one of two things: Either my 7-year-old laptop will continue to support my photo posts, or it will need to be replaced. Either way, it’ll be a week before I post any photos on these pieces, as Windows File Explorer is constantly in buffering mode, which tells me my old friend is very sick.
I haven’t done much today, but then again, yesterday found me in Phoenix, walking with three other people around a neighbourhood called Sunnyslope, which is an important place in the annals of Penny’s and my last ten years together. I am glad to have helped install 13 smoke detectors, in 7 of the 25 houses we visited. 6 went in one house, alone. The most important were those placed in the bedrooms of youths.
Visiting a friend in Superior, and finding her working alone, on a Saturday afternoon, was bothersome. I stayed long enough to enjoy a nice lunch and to help her just a bit, with tidying up and offering moral support. This person is going through something similar to what I endured, with a spouse suffering debilitation. I hope her co-workers will get a grip and start pitching in more.
Today, though, I am thinking of someone, very far away, whom I have never met face to face. Something about her, though, has drawn me in. Like anything else of this nature, we’ll see.
I watched a short video about the Sumerians. It challenges conventional wisdom about our origins as a species. I have one question, though: If there are some beings that are responsible for our intelligence, and they “civilized” us, then left, why aren’t they back? Perhaps, they know better. I think I will stick with my God, and the God of us all.
My Memorial Day to Independence Day travel schedule is mapped out- Nevada, Colorado, eastward through Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Ontario, Montreal, New England, Pennsylvania, down the Delmarva, Hampton Roads, across Virginia, the Carolinas and Tennessee, before an I-40 zip, back to Home Base and Prescott’s fireworks. Most of this route is to see friends and family-some of whom I have not seen in a very long time. Good Sam Parks and hostels will be well-researched and penciled in, beforehand. There will be a birthday party or two, a family wedding and a Xanga/Facebook gathering. If this sounds like a lot, it’s because it is.
In the meantime, we have a month of standardized testing at our high school, which means unusual schedules. Then, there is Graduation Month. In both April and May, I will also be occupied with Baha’i activities, to boot. I would not miss any of this, or rush through it, for all the world.
March 26, 2018, Prescott-
I attended a gathering, yesterday, at the Native American Baha’i Institute, which is 4 1/2 hours’ drive from here. The occasion was an intensive flute making and playing workshop, by a long-time flautist, who is a friend. Kevin visited our home, years ago, when Penny, Aram and I lived on the Navajo Nation. His work is always worth supporting.
I will have more to say about the flute, and about the event, in my next post. Today, though, a brief word is in order about the rising of those who have been subservient.
In the mid-1990’s, my mother-in–law would insist on the Victorian dictum, regarding children maintaining silence. She would later come to regret that stance, but at the time, it was her way of keeping our son and his girl cousin in check. I disagreed, vehemently then, and do now. Children should be seen, heard, believed- and properly educated and guided.
Women have largely been relegated to a subservient role, over the centuries- across the globe. Thankfully, this nonsense started to unravel, as far back as 1965, though people like my mother have never been content to have their voices go unheard. The presence of so many strong women in my life has made such a state of affairs seem totally absurd to me, forever and a day.
When I was a senior in high school, one of the seminal events was the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., fifty years ago, next week. In my social studies and English classes, I would raise the issue of civil rights, to a largely deaf audience. My school, at that time, had five African-American students. I knew two of them, brothers, who were kept at home, the day after the senseless murder. There were hoots and hollers, expressions of satisfaction, by young men who have long since overcome their prejudice, born, as all prejudices are, by ignorance and fear. There were tears shed by more enlightened young women, who dared to date young Black men, from the next town over. My hometown is a more open-minded place, nowadays, and people are increasingly, though not completely, expanding their circles of friends.
There is a new world, a better place, rising from various ash heaps.
March 22, 2018, Prescott-
I got up well before sunrise, as usual, and went about the routine, except that coffee and breakfast waited until after my annual lab work for next Friday’s physical. I was first in line, so that was an in/out process.
I did something else, with assurance from my spirit guides. On what would have been my very frugal father’s 91st birthday, I tore up all correspondence from a sweepstakes company and tossed a few other pitches for money that I just don’t have to spare for them. Dad always honoured his commitments and his obligations, and I walk, as best I can, in his footsteps. I am assured that all else will follow, as needed.
It was another moment when I got a nice message from a good-hearted new online friend, and pondered my commitments for the rest of this month. Meditation told me, once again, that my choices are just that, my own. Nothing can really be imposed on us, except to pass on, when that day comes.
This dawn brought heavy cloud cover to us in Arizona, heavy rains to southern California and yet another heavy snowfall to the Northeast. Punxsutawney Phil is rolling on the ground, laughing, with his little trick; the groundhog lied.
March 18, 2018, Tucson-
Visiting a good friend, northwest of here, I found myself invited to a performance by a group of refugees from DR Congo and a few other African nations. So, on this rainy morning, we headed back into town and contented ourselves, in the on-again, off-again showers and chill, with greeting and making the young singers and dancers feel at home.
They showed an enthusiasm that belies their horrific experiences with the conflicts that stem from tribalism and greed. The emphasis of their messages, in both song and dance, is on unity of effort and on, thankfully, gender balance. America’s youth are not the only ones showing the way to a more equitable world. African young people are taking the Cape buffalo by the horns and setting their elders on notice, that suffering of the common folk is no longer an option of convenience.
Here are some scenes of their performances.
The songs they sang were of gratitude to the U.S., and Tucson, for welcoming them, and giving them a chance to recover from the horrors of tribal and regional conflict. These are all young people on a legal path to citizenship, having been brought here by the International Refugee Council, which hosted a “Walk A Mile In Their Shoes” event, following the performances.
It is a central tenet of Baha’i belief, to succor those fleeing from persecution and slaughter. I was proud to be hugged and called “Brother” by these amazing young men and women.
March 15, 2018, Prescott-
One of the challenges I used to face, when I first became a Baha’i and started fasting, was what sort of food and beverage intake would sustain me, through a normal day. I did not want to be one of those who went through the workday, zombie-like, getting the shakes from not having my customary mid-morning coffee break, or small lunch. I did not want to go home after work and slide into bed for the three hours that remained before dinner.
While my appetite has certainly gone down, especially in my sixties, here is what still works well: Early morning breakfast- Two proteins (Meat, cheese, yogurt or beans); two sources of complex carbohydrates (Organic bread, whole grain cereal); one serving of fruit; one serving of vegetable; two 8 oz. glasses of water, with a slice of lemon; coffee with milk or cream. Post sunset dinner (One protein; one complex carb; a salad; a serving of fruit or frozen yogurt; a glass of water with lemon; coffee (black) or tea (herbal).
Sometimes, when I have been feeling that the fast, on a given day, seems too long, I will make room for tea made of puerh, or other digestive aid, which helps suppress the urge to turn to food as a distraction.
Baha’u’llah did not intend the Fast to be an endurance test, thus allowing those 70 years of age or above, to refrain from the dietary portion of the Fast. Three years from now, I will still wake before sunrise and offer prayers and meditation, but not refrain from food and beverage. There is a wisdom in this, allowing our bodies to be better equipped for the challenges that often come with advancing age.
I believe that diet is the best form of medical self-care.
March 14, 2018, Prescott-
We each put up with a certain amount of nonsense, on any given day. Whether it is following a ridiculous instruction, from someone who is in charge of us (parent, teacher, boss, police officer, or random Joe who has connections); waiting in a line, whilst the person at the head finishes a casual conversation or adjusts the money in his wallet; instinctively speeding up a bit, when the driver behind comes rushing towards your car’s rear end, or toots the horn or pumps his fist/shouts/point to her watch.
These are accommodations and we can either continue to put up with them, get our backs up and “fight back” or get creative, as in the person who responds to an impatient person behind him, by slowing down to the posted speed limit. (Oh, the HORROR!”)
The Divine, however, may test us with these scenarios, or with far more serious woes (disease, bankruptcy, divorce, ostracism- catastrophes of a Jobian magnitude). Job was a model of radiant acquiescence. He could see the eventual end of all his troubles, as horrific as they were.
Those who’ve been here a while know that I have been through several such troubles. They’ve been balanced, of course, with good fortune: A stormy, but loving, marriage; a fine young man for a son; a stable, and basically loving, extended family; a checkered, but honestly driven, career; a small, but stable, financial base; a wealth of experiences, both at various Home Bases and on the road/trail.
Radiant acquiescence means enduring the downs of life, whilst knowing the silver lining defines the cloud.
March 8, 2018, Prescott-
One of the main features of this period of time is the occurrence of mental and emotional tests. Many of our tests come from the emotional baggage we carry with us. A tool that the Fast provides us, in overcoming these tests, and jettisoning that baggage, is detachment.
Physically, those between 15-70, under the circumstances I described in Part 1, face detachment from food, drink and all the activities which feature them, during the daylight hours of Fast days. This evening, whilst attending an American Legion Post monthly meeting, I purchased a light meal, as is customary prior to such meetings, and secured it in a to-go box, for after sundown, and the meeting’s end.
There are, of course, far more basic and deeper-seated matters which can be and are, brought to our consciousness during the Fast. I am facing one, right now, which I will describe later, when the time is appropriate. I am determined that, this time, I will cast the baggage aside. It stems from events in my life, over 50 years ago, and had been buried these many years. Now, it’s just time to put the demons to rest. Good people, besides me, will be the better for this.
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