Category Archives: impediments

Journey 3, Day 13: The Smaller Majesties

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Striving, Travel

September 12, 2023, Exton, PA- Bushnell Park is one of New England’s best kept secrets.

The park, designed according to the style used by Frederick Law Olmsted, in his construction of New York’s Central Park, was constructed, in 1861, by a Swiss-born landscape architect, Jacob Weidenmann, who came recommended by Olmsted. It is named for Dr. Horace Bushnell, a health-conscious minister and community activist, who recognized the benefits to the public weal, of urban green space, at a time when business leaders were more concerned with making money from tax rolls than with any government involvement in the health of the citizenry.

Bushnell Park is one of the crown jewels of Hartford. Connecticut’s capital city is known for its insurance corporate headquarters and, along with so many other northeastern cities, for its struggles to renew vitality. Hartford has a magnificent core. Stopping there today, on the way from Kittery to this small, and vibrant, western suburb of Philadelphia, I found these gems:

Statue of Apollo, near State Capitol, Hartford
East side view of State Capitol, Hartford

Horace Bushnell Theater, Hartford
Pond and fountains, Bushnell Park, Hartford
Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Arch, Hartford

The Pump House was built in 1947, as part of the Connecticut River Flood Control Project, after downtown Hartford suffered deluges in 1936 and 1938.

This last item hints at solutions that might be pertinent to resolving the woes of other flood-stricken communities. As I write this, two Massachusetts towns: Leominster and North Attleboro, are dealing with severe damage caused by flooding. Several Alaska towns had flood damage, earlier this year. Across the globe, fire in the Mediterranean region (Greece, Sicily, Algeria) has been followed by flooding (Libya). It is perhaps essential to more closely examine the role that wetlands might have, in mitigating both flood and fire, since one usually follows the other.,

It also helps, that the majesty of smaller cities be recognized, appreciated and celebrated.

Journey 3, Day 10: Energy Shifts

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

September 9, 2023, Saugus- As I left the Massachusetts Turnpike and headed north, on I-95, towards this town of my youth, a warm stream of air enveloped my shoulders and the back of my neck. I was being greeted, reassured, by someone-my father, my brother Brian, maybe even Penny. This was good, especially as the off ramp is extremely winding, for about 1/4 mile, and all protection is welcome.

Each time that I have taken this route, over the past dozen years, stops at Bedford and Wilkes-Barre, PA diners have been routine. In both cases, the initial visit was at a time when I was emotionally vulnerable, and a kind woman was my server. Of course, the food at both places was great, ample and reasonably-priced. The ambiance was comfortable, as well. I came to enjoy each subsequent visit to Rte. 220, in Bedford and D’s, in Wilkes-Barre, with different people, equally engaging, have been present and welcoming.

The energy in both places seems to have shifted, just a tad. There was a world-weariness about the staff. I think it is largely a sign of the times. People who have lived all their lives, according to certain rules and expectations, are finding the pace and direction of change almost too much to bear. Being one who has learned to go with the flow, to a reasonable extent, I am not as perturbed by the need for adjusting the sails and hope that future stops will see a resurgence of well-being.

I have, though, drawn the line at certain points. When a writer who has done great work, over the past two years, came out with a paean to satanism, this believer in the Divine said “Enough”, and cut off connection. I know that is “only an opinion” of hers, but there is a deeply troubling energy behind it, and truthfully, darkness is the absence of light, not its opposite. I am no fundamentalist, just an optimist who sees great things ahead-provided people work together to BUILD, not to tear down (except in the case of walls); to elevate, not ravage; to support one another, not sacrifice innocents.

I am here for a day or two, to celebrate the ninety-fifth birthday of the woman who made my own life and times possible. It will likely be a low-key event, but one much worth the drive here and all the reminiscences that are sure to arise. I also hope it will be followed by at least five more-so long as the quality of Mother’s life remains constant.

Journey 3, Day 9: The Joys of Resurgence

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 8, 2023, Bedford, PA- It could have been any small town hot dog stand, in any small Midwestern town, with a perky, in-charge high school cheerleader cooking, serving and keeping interlopers out of the kitchen-a perfect after-school job. Dogs On The Run, though, is in East Palestine, Ohio-site of a severe toxic waste spill, following a freight train derailment, in February of this year.

I went to E.P., this afternoon, to see how well the town is doing, and how much of the recovery is being done on its own. It was gratifying that a team of EPA workers was having lunch at Dogs, the same time I was there. They were a relief team, who had just arrived, and were being briefed by the section chief. The spirit in East Palestine seems cautiously optimistic. The Feds were a bit wary of my taking photos around town, but I took none of them, or any other people. The citizens were polite and appreciated getting support.

EPA is still in the game.
A great place for lunch, and a one-woman show.
THIS is the attitude I found, all over town.

After bidding farewell to a visibly tired clerk, at Best Motel, earlier this morning, I headed to one of Toledo’s classiest breakfast/lunch establishments: Reynolds Garden. The place was packed, at 9 a.m., and the hostesses, servers and bussers were in constant motion. The corned beef hash was excellent, and Garden has heart- a little girl was confused, on her way from the restroom to her table, and was calmly and quietly helped to find her mother, by the lead hostess.

East Palestine has a roadmap to recovery-defining “Strong” through hard work and a solid community spirit. So, too, does Imperial, PA, where police and fire units responded swiftly to a road emergency, near a Day Care Center, as a dozen drivers, including me, were turned around, out of the way of the operation. So, too, does Toledo, and North Platte-and every community where “strong” has been attached-including New York on 9/11/01.

My faith in the human spirit has been re-affirmed, with every mile traveled and every hour passed.

Journey 3, Day 8: Choosing the Talk, Figuring The Walk

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

September 7, 2023, Toledo, OH- There he stood, in the middle of a thankfully empty downtown street, trying to remember where he had parked his car. Having been in that predicament, myself, quite a few times (though taking care to not stand in the street), I asked if I might be of help. He mentioned the name of a landmark, near where his car was-and I was able to reorient him on his way.

A short time later, having had a bracing lunch of teriyaki chicken and rice,at Koya, in Wilmette’s village center, I spent about an hour in prayer, in the Baha’i House of Worship and at its Visitor Center. Of particular personal concern was being able to know in which direction my acts of service might fall, each day going forward.

Mostly, this has been sparked by a few instances of self-doubt, or momentary confusion. After reflection, though, it is more a matter of trying to do too much, too quickly-which is something that has ever been a challenge in my repertoire of behaviours. So, with a prayer to direct the urge for service in the optimal direction, I set out from the Holy Temple.

The Chicago Dance, as I call the flow of traffic along the Windy City’s freeways, lasted about an hour-from Dempster Street, Evanston to the Chicago Skyway. At one point, the first person I’ve ever seen freeze, whilst trying to change lanes, caused the driver behind me to open his window and bellow “Get moving, NOW!”, while the lady in the next lane looked about ready to spew equal venom. All I could do was inch forward and wait until the frightened one had moved his car completely out of my way. The car had Illinois plates, but who knows? Hapless Harry finally managed to screw up enough courage to go forth, in about a minute-which is an eternity to Chicago’s seasoned drivers.

In my own space, it often takes a few tries to get things right, so I did not fault either the frozen driver or the person experiencing parking space amnesia. In fact, once I got off the Tollways, the desire to get as far east as possible overcame prudence-and I had to call around and apologetically cancel a scheduled online meeting. I did find Best Motel, an aptly-named accommodation, here in Toledo. It will be another link in my continental chain

Journey 3, Day 2- Waltz Across Paradise

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 1, 2023, Black Forest, CO- While the hostess could barely focus, for the crowds that were making their way to her check stand I could see that she was trying to keep it together. Such was the noon hour, at Junction Restaurant, on the east edge of Pagosa Springs.

I have been on Rte. 160, across Colorado’s southern tier, maybe two dozen times, since 1981. I have seen snow in July and bare roads in January. It has been all about navigating Wolf Creek Pass, each and every time. It has also been about an overnight in Cortez, or in Walsenburg, if I was making a return trip.

Highway 160 is the middle route, between I-40 and I-70. It is the guide to the San Juan Mountains, Mesa Verde, the Animas, San Juan and Rio Grande, the San Luis Valley, Great Sand Dunes, the Spanish Peaks-and the heart of the Rocky Mountains.

The three great rivers are hurting. Sand bars are visible in the Animas and San Juan, at Durango and Pagosa Springs, respectively, and Rio Grande is barely flowing, at Alamosa. There are no fires allowed in Montezuma County (Cortez), La Plata County (Durango), Archuleta County (Pagosa Springs) and Rio Grande County (South Fork). For the first time in memory, I saw no snow, anywhere, on the tops of the great “Fourteeners”. Colorado is parched, along with most of its fellow western states, and the its neighbours on the Great Plains.

This is the backdrop to the three days that lie ahead, at the Colorado East Baha’i School, here in Black Forest. Nonetheless, as we take pains to conserve water, be fire wise and love our host Mother Earth, all of us, Coloradans and visitors alike, are grateful for the paradise that this state presents.

I hope the blessed little lady at Junction can find some peace, this weekend.

J.R.

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Posted by on in Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Travel

August 30, 2023- On the patio of a coffee house, in Ocean Springs, MS, in early 2015, the bearded sage talked of his Golden Circle-an area between Knoxville, TN and Sylacauga, AL, where he preferred to do his exploration-finding hidden gems in places he’d visited countless times before. He loved his caves-as places to wander, and his waterfalls, as places to sit and wonder. He urged me to develop a similar relationship with my own chosen Home Base, as “traveling far distances can get old”.

J.R. Cline’s idea of a long journey was a drive to New Orleans, a city he loved passionately. He took his last several trios there in his motor home, on occasion taking along the son of his closest friends-and of course, his faithful dog went everywhere with him, until the animal died. a few years back.

I saw Ralph, as his close friends called him, a couple of other times, within the bounds of the Golden Circle, once in Cleveland, TN and once just outside Knoxville. He touted what he called “Pig Wings”, white pork loin formed the way one would prepare “boneless chicken wings” and deep fried. I later had them, somewhere in Texas, and found them as tasty as their avian counterparts, though both he and I cut back on our consumption of fried foods, a few years ago. He loved his family in Knoxville and his adopted family in Sylacauga, equally well, spending his final days with the latter.

J.R. left this plane a few days ago, and left us all with the fondest of memories. On the way back from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, I will put in a visit to his beloved Rock City, in Chattanooga, in his memory and seek to offer condolences to both families, hopefully in person. I might even cheat and nibble some Pig Wings, at that place near Childersburg, Alabama.

J.R., having greeted us a few days ago, “from the ether”, let me wish you an amazing solo flight in the Great Beyond. Your life here was amazing; thanks for sharing.

The DACA Picnic

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

August 27, 2023- Close to fifty people were gathered in Granite Creek Park, early this afternoon, when I went over for an event organized to assist people registering with the government, under the terms of the Dream Act, for another two years of relative safety, as legal residents of the United States.

It was a well-organized, if low key, event-with a few people playing games and practicing Tae Kwon Do, despite the heat. Most of the Boomers in attendance were gathered under the ramada. I got my food and went to sit and watch the kids of various ages, who were engaged in the fun activities. The samosa vendor from Farmers Market was providing her delicious East African filled dumplings, as the protein item in the light lunch that was given to each of us. I took one of the chicken samosas, some Veggie Straws, a navel orange and some sparkling water.,

This brings me to the whole immigration issue. I read a post, this evening, by someone I thought knew better, saying that all the changes taking place in the world right now are organized by some shadowy group that wants to buy up as much land as they can get away with (thus, the wildfires in Hawaii, Canada and around the Mediterranean region), lock everyone down again (thus, the recent outbreaks of ad nauseam subvariants of Covid) and crash the U.S. economy (thus, the BRICS Group’s expansion). Similar fears are being expressed about migration, a phenomenon that far predates our system of nations and borders, and which will far outlast its present iteration- and for one reason: People will go where the work is.

I am personally in favour of a Guest Worker program, which would allow people to enter this country legally, for the purpose of filling those positions which American citizens choose not to occupy. While they ought to be able to drive, again as licensed operators, subject to all laws, including the holding of an adequate insurance policy, and should be able to find housing, their children be educated in U.S schools, etc., I do not favour granting other perquisites, such as welfare or unemployment insurance payments-especially as there are many American citizens who go without such benefits. Homeless citizens should be first in line for affordable housing, which is a human right. Citizens who are ill should be first in line for affordable health care-also a human right. We have the wherewithal to do right by our fellow Americans AND, in an organized manner, help our fellow humans who come to us from other nations.

Jumping back to the BRICS question, the very organization of that group is a direct nconsequence of colonialism. Every member of BRICS, except Russia, is a country which was once administered, and/or had its resources extrmeriacted by, one or more nations of Western Europe. It is NOT a cabal that wants to destroy the United States. If anything, the nations want to copy the better aspects of the American model, and why wouldn’t they? Seeking to level the playing field requires a gradual spread of genuine democratic practices-and even China is going to find that to be to its benefit, if it hasn’t realized that already.

BRICS ties in with DACA, in that the only way to prevent the monstrous cabal, that so many fear, from taking over, is to empower the Global South, and its citizens, in place-so that there is not an accelerating and unwieldy wave upon wave of people overloading the nations of North America and Europe, far beyond anything we are experiencing now. Both development in place, and a well-managed Guest Worker program in the developed nations, are needed, and urgently.

The Giant Rubber Duck

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

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Style and Substance

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

August 25, 2023- The little boy greeted me, in late morning, with a warm hug. The angry woman, later in the evening, with much the opposite.

Like so many days, this one began light and airy-and ended with a thud. I woke, sensing that the energy around me was shifting in a positive direction and that, in advance of the journey that begins at the end of next week, my path in what remains to be done here in the meantime would be free of obstacles. The work day reflected that, with the children energetic and cooperative, and my colleagues just happy to see another Friday, though they do enjoy their work. Everyone likes a rest, or change of pace, after a week at a job well done.

I visited Rafter Eleven, and was treated like a king-an extra mocha java was delivered to my table, as a token of appreciation for consistent support of this marvelous enterprise, over the bottom of the past eight years. A little bee was also attracted to my light meal, and to the drink, eventually finding its way to the bottom of the glass. Unfortunately, the poor animal perished from the still icy condition of the vessel-or maybe from the caffeine.

After leaving my friend’s establishment, I chose to join an in-person meeting, instead of going back to Home Base and signing onto Zoom. The hosts and the presenter were congenial, and the information quite illuminating. Not everyone was glad to see me however, and after a fashion, I found it best to excuse myself and head out-easy enough to do, as it had been a long, if lovely, day up to that point-and I needed rest.

There have been, every so often, people in my life who do not take kindly to my manner of speech or style of explanation. I try to learn what I can from such a person, for a time, and if it makes me more well-rounded or expands my knowledge, so much the better. Style, however, tends to reflect the substance of a soul. An angry, wounded soul will be abrupt, castigating and intolerant. I have not done well, in the presence of such people and this evening was no exception.

For my part, I know that I do not think well on my feet at the end of the day-and frequently, I do not engage well in debate, even when rested. This means nothing to the disquiet person, and is often viewed by them as an excuse. The whole trigger this evening was my statement that I like to back up my comments with the words of Baha’u’llah or ‘Abdu’l-Baha, not as a proselytizing mechanism or as a substitute for good deeds, but as the glue that holds my own words and deeds together. That led to an outburst of anger, and I chose to leave, rather than exacerbate the situation.

For a time, once back in the apartment, I pondered whether this is an indication that my time here in this community is getting short, that maybe the bloom is off the rose and I need to move on. The counter to that, I know, is that the part of myself that triggers anger in disquiet people will only spark the same, at the next place, if I move along. It’s better to keep this Home Base for now, get my journeys done in September and October, and resume work here from November through mid-May.

With that, I am headed to sleep, and hope for a peaceful weekend.

Humanity Isn’t Minimized

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 23, 2023- In August, 1974, a family visiting from Montreal had taken a cabin at a resort, in western Maine, where I was working for the summer. A fire was built in the hearth, then thinking that it would be secure and burn itself out-in the hearth, the family went to bed. At 2 a.m., the older daughter, 13, smelled smoke and got her parents and sister up and out of the cabin. I was one of the volunteer firefighters who did the best we could to extinguish the fire-and did keep it from spreading. Many of the other crew members were year-round residents of the village. Their own homes would have been at serious risk, in short order, had the blaze spread.

Tusayan is a small town, of about 6,000 people, most of whom work in service industries connected to Grand Canyon National Park’s South Rim. There are also those who serve the servers: The Coconino County Sheriff’s Substation, the Grand Canyon Unified School District and the Town of Tusayan’s government.

Yesterday, much of the town’s populace, and many visitors, were evacuated, due to unusual flash floods. While clean-up will take time, and there is an ongoing threat of more rain, through Friday, the main road-AZ Highway 64, has been re-opened, from the South Rim’s entrance to Williams. The eastern section, from the entrance to Cameron, did not need to be closed, though in taking that road last night, due to a commitment at a school in Prescott, today, I noticed that a severe hail storm had struck the eastern part of South Rim, earlier in the afternoon.

This is yet another in a series of wake-up calls for the tourism industry, and for travelers in general, that the places being visited are inhabited by people who are essentially the same as those who have left their homes to take a rest, be served or to just enjoy a change of pace from home sweet home. Lahaina is the largest, and worst, such tragedy, in a series spanning several years. Gatlinburg, Big Sur, Talkeetna and dozens of small forest encampments all over the continent-and across the globe, have seen fire and flood drive those involved in hospitality lose house and home.

There are many reactions to a tragedy in a vacation-oriented area, as I discussed last week. It has been reported that at least one tourist raged about his dinner reservation being canceled by the Lahaina fire’s burning down the restaurant. We are all on a journey away from self, and towards seeing “all humanity created from the same stock”, as Baha’u’llah wrote in a prayer, 150 years ago. Some of us have, in all sincerity and from a place of generosity, gone to the suffering area and purchased a vacation package, thinking that THIS is the way to help the people in the afflicted community know that the world stands with them. Others have sent large supplies of goods, often without checking as to what is actually needed. These are good-hearted people, who have just not taken the time to hear from the victims themselves, or from their spokespeople. Thus, some want to go to Maui, anyway. Others will go to Tusayan, and expect that business as usual has resumed, because the highway is open. The clean-up will continue, for some time.

Humanity isn’t minimized by where someone lives, or by which economic group they occupy. Yes, paying for a service does mean that one gets a product for one’s money. It is also true, in this age when nearly every place on Earth has something of interest to offer, that we are all both visitors and visited, servers and served.

I find that it is the deep connecting with those who live in a community, that makes visiting the locale worthwhile in the first place.