The Beleaguered Southland

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March 27, 2023- I got a text, and an e-mail, from the Red Cross, early this afternoon, wanting to know if I would be available to assist in the recovery efforts following the latest wave of tornadoes in the mid-South, especially in Mississippi. I will be available starting Sunday, so we will see what RC’s response is.

The South appeared to have endured a triple whammy, these past few days. Tornadoes have come to be expected, yet those which hit rural areas at night have tended to not get as much forewarning as their diurnal counter parts and are thus deadlier.

School shootings, sadly, have come to be expected-and are dismissed as “an unfortunate trade-off for the protection of rights under the Second Amendment”. That codicil says no such thing, but has been interpreted as protecting the “rights” of the craven and the mentally ill, to the extent that it is, itself, no protection at all for those who either don’t own firearms (the vast majority of underage students, for example), or do not bring their weapons to the workplace or leisure spots , OR are outmaneuvered/ outgunned by the aggressor. Oh, for the days of a well-trained militia and firearms safety classes, as the prime missions of the National Rifle Association.

Thirdly, the Thirtieth Anniversary of the Waco Massacre should have been a day of national reflection and shame. Instead, it was turned into a political circus. Fortunately, a good many of those who went there to reflect, grieve and process their emotions did their processing and quietly left, well before the politicizing and venting had come to a close. To me, the carnage that day was every bit as reprehensible as what followed in Jonesboro, San Ysidro, Lakewood, Sandy Hook, Sutherland, North Charleston, Fort Hood, Pittsburgh, Roseburg, Arlington, Peoria, San Bernardino, Uvalde, Parkland, La Plata, Oxford and Nashville-as well as the places which escape my recall at the moment. The deaths of people, in misguided loyalty to one man are a supreme cautionary tale-and I pray the Divine that this never is repeated, for the sake of any one leader, father figure or surrogate neurotic means to power.

I’ve spent many enjoyable days in the South, as in other parts of the country and the continent, over the years. My heart hurts for those affected by each of the tragedies above-and while certainly praying, I am also willing to go and help in the recovery process, should my presence actually be welcome-as it was in Louisiana and Dallas, three years ago.

Driftwood

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March 26, 2023- The scattered piles of cottonwood, ash and Gambel’s oak that greet the visitor to the area just north of the Agua Fria River bear testimony to the force of last week’s floods. Driftwood has long been seen as both a bounty-for those who rely on wood to heat their homes and cook their food and a bane, for the effects of deforestation on further soil erosion and both air and water pollution.

We can see analogies to other elements of life, in the presence of driftwood. Those of no fixed address are sometimes likened to these branches, logs and stumps. Their value to society consists of their accumulated knowledge and experience, to their compassion for others that is borne of their own pain and struggle. There is a similar view taken of the disabled, for much the same reason-and yet, many severely impaired people shower their families and caregivers with love-which some of those family members and caregivers may not get elsewhere.

Simply put, every element of creation has a benefit-and many have several. Everyone who has given me fits, for example, has imparted a lesson. In some cases, their presence in my life needed to be curtailed, but the lessons I drew from having encountered them was hardly diminished by the difficulties they brought to my life, however temporary those were. Likewise, the lessons of the Flood of Spring, 2023 were not diminished by the suffering it has wrought on those who have lived in the areas close to the banks of rivers and creeks whose depredations are intermittent and seasonal.

Here is what I found on a last-minute visit to Badger Springs, southeast of Prescott, early this evening.

The Fallacy of Coercion

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March 25, 2023- Once, after Penny’s funeral, when I found a modest, but pliable, insurance deposit in my checking account, I got a call from someone who used the fact, that I had only myself to support, as a springboard to ask that I help fund a surgery that was needed. In those days of some confusion and recovery that accompanied the grieving process, I did not project ahead to the expenses of the ensuing four months before the final life insurance settlement would find its way to me. It felt like it was my bounden duty to help this individual, who had little. The choice was made to proffer a substantial amount in that direction. Fast forward three months, and I received a proposal from my handyman to renovate the house. Without giving it the proper amount of thought, I initially agreed to his offer, only to do the math afterward-and to end up cancelling the project, thus burdening him with returning the materials-and burdening myself with the loss of a friend.

I have come to the realization, these many years later, that there really was no coercion from anyone. I made both decisions, conflicting as they were, out of a desire to make someone else happy. To what extent the first person achieved happiness is a matter of opinion. I have not been willing or able to continue to dole out money in that direction. It goes without saying, that the second person is just as glad if he never sees me again.

In life, there are relatively few matters that are imperative. A parent must do the best to raise any child, who is birthed or adopted, to adulthood. A pet owner must see to the animal’s well-being. A citizen must contribute to the support of community, state and nation-both financially and civically. A worker must do the best to fulfill the basic requirements of a job. Communities must provide for the education of their young and for the basic care of disabled and elderly residents.

All else, however, is a matter of choice. In the 1970s, the comedian Flip Wilson had a routine, on his television program, in which he played a character whose retort to being chastised was “The devil made me do it.” We Baha’is know the “devil” to be the ego of a person, when it entices one to overindulge base instincts or desires, acting against the better nature. It was anthropomorphized long ago, in the days of Babylon-and has had a physical image ever since. This has the effect of allowing a person to deflect any blame for actions-which was exactly Wilson’s point. That such self-indulgence can generate negative energy, which can and does harm self and others, does not change the essence of its nature.

There is much that I take on, both paid and volunteer work. In each case, I have come to the understanding with myself that my choices are made strictly in consulting with my conscience, and not because of any pressure from outside. Guilting, whining or yelling and screaming have only made me turn away from the supplicant. There is no such real thing as coercion, when you give the matter some thought.

Snow, and Then No

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March 24, 2023- When I rounded the corner, coming back into Home Base after a night minding an empty shelter, I found the vehicles parked outside were covered with snow. An hour later, it was gone. This is a harbinger of what seems likely to be the rule, rather than the exception, of the days to come.

In recent weeks, I have seen the wishes of a departed friend be countermanded by his heirs, all for the sake of vengeance against others, who for the life of me have done them no harm. I am not directly involved in this, but a dear friend is-and so is the single mother of a small child. All one can wonder is, what benefit does a man in late middle age get from savaging the less fortunate?

There are numerous occasions when people have used ruses, machinations and straight-up aggression, to overturn policies and negate previous actions that have come to benefit the marginalized. Mostly, this seems to stem from a sense of entitlement, based on tradition and a long-standing state of affairs. It can result in reversal of fortune for the downtrodden-but to them, this is also more of the same, and yet, we wonder why they get angry, or despondent, or just plain defeated. Where is written that one class of people has an inherent right to dominate the rest, or even a segment of that rest? There is “The Divine Right of Kings”, but that has ever come with an equally valid “Divine Responsibility” for those same monarchs and overlords. No justice, no peace.

The water cycle mandates that what comes down, whether liquid or solid, must flow, be absorbed or evaporate. It must go where it can be of benefit to life, whether immediately or over time. Water can never just “disappear”.

The cycle of justice mandates that what is reasonably given, in good faith, by one person to another cannot be simply taken away, under any pretext, by a third party-even if that third party has convinced self, against all evidence, that he, or someone who has ingratiated self to him, is the victim. “Thou shalt not steal”; “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour”. This applies as much to the ongoing claim of “election fraud”, vis-a-vis 2020 and 2022, or the miser who finds self expected to share with others, as it does someone taking liberties with the last will and testament of another. Justice may be deferred, or denied for a time, but it can never just disappear.

Snow can seem to disappear, but the well-being of a person, or group of people, must not be made to seem so.

The Atmosphere Delivers

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March 22, 2023- Dad would have been 96 today. He grew up with a love of flowing water, especially salt water, which soothed his psoriasis somewhat. We inherited that love, though something in my physical make-up has hampered my swimming skills. Nevertheless, being around water is soothing. Aram picked up that love of water and is a top notch swimmer and diver. He has translated that into success so far in the U.S. Navy-nowadays in the Naval Reserves.

I thought, when moving to Arizona, from Maine, in 1978, that I might miss the ocean. California, as it happens, is not far away-and on occasion, I have visited seaside resorts in Mexico’s northwest corner. The desert, however, is an ocean in itself-just storing its water safely, in pockets-oases, tanks and the storage components of trees, cacti and succulents. There are also plenty of mountains, which in northern Arizona are quite similar in vegetation to the mountains of New England, albeit with cacti thrown in for good measure.

The atmosphere has delivered copious amounts of precipitation this Winter-and into the first days of Spring. Most people are aware of the mixed blessings this has brought to California and Nevada. Arizona has had the same experience as its western neighbours. So, as mentioned in the earlier post, the rivers and creeks of our area, as well as near Flagstaff and parts of the Navajo and Hopi Nations , have assumed monsoon-level flows. This has opened shelters, as those living near the overflowing banks have had to be evacuated. Some have headed down to the Phoenix area or further afield. A few have stayed with us, in the Red Cross facilities.

Thus, my tentative schedule has set me to working nights, possibly through Friday, and doing minimal activities during the daylight hours, the rest of this week. I have, however, kept my basic exercise routine-and in the event of an empty, “stand-by” shelter, I can walk many laps around the gym, without bothering anyone. Life goes on nicely.

Celebration and Standing Watch

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March 21, 2023- It was a well-attended party, rich in repast and with lively dancing, after the meal. Forty=three folks, from three to seveny-eight, rang in the Baha’i New Year, properly called Naw-Ruz, and began the 180th year since al-Bab declared His Mission (1844). Anyone delighting in Persian cuisine would have been in glory and there was plenty of salad varieties to go around as well. Jasmine rice, some with beef and some with vegetables, was abundant. Chicken thighs, baked in sour orange juice, were also a highlight. Then, several of us danced, led by an elegant couple and a seasoned ballroom veteran. The kids, though, were the best-just by virtue of their authenticity.

About an hour after I got back to Home Base, a call came from the Red Cross and my services were secured for at least tonight. Once again, the Verde River, and some of its tributaries, were overflowing. The hour’s drive through pouring rain wasn’t all that hard, but it took longer than I had wanted and if there is one thing that still gets me rankled, it is not being on time to relieve the previous crew. I made it in with three minutes to spare, got the lowdown from the initially stone-faced crew and managed to send them off on good terms.

The rain has stopped, as of 10 p.m., but for the people staying with us this evening, the level of water is jarring and our simple task is to make them feel re-assured and safe. That is something I can manage, even in a tired state. May tomorrow bring the sunshine and a receding water level.

When Agreeable

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March 13, 2023- A call came to me, whilst I was sipping coffee and reading the Monday newspaper-a small affair most days. Seeing the name of the caller, I figured it was an urgent call to action and I was prepared to answer the call. These two weeks have activities planned, but none that couldn’t be cleared for the sake of an emergency.

It turned out that the situation was “kinda, sorta”. I would be on stand-by, for three weeks, not two, and would thus have to cancel a few more long-standing commitments, for the sake of an iffy situation. There may yet be a call back, over the next few days, but I am moving forward with what is in front of me.

I had a weight reduction check, about an hour later. Progress is generally solid and consistent, but one area has plateaued. It’ll get going again, with a few tweaks of my own, and with due consideration of the suggestions made by the coach. I am not buying into the catalog of this company, lock, stock and barrel, nor am I going to join the regimen of outside activity scheduled by the club. I may participate, every so often, in an early morning activity, but my early a.m.s have generally been “ease into things”, with more vigourous actions from late morning onward. I am not the cookie-cutter all-American Macho Man.

That last thought set me to looking back, on just how much of a solo act I have been, activity-wise and schedule-wise, since Penny died. Hiking Buddy, when she feels up to it, has provided an exception-and there are people with whom I enjoy spending time, in other areas. Mostly, though, I have returned to marching to that drummer who set my pace, before I was married. The beat is a lot more spiritual now, and Penny’s soul, along with others, has a good deal to do with how the beat plays out, but I don’t consult all that many humans about things that impact only yours truly. Visits and joint activities, of course, are agreed upon-but my solo act, otherwise, follows those spirit guides.

That leads to the rest of the week-and a long-overdue visit with some old friends will be Stop One, tomorrow, and a few other places and people lie on the short itinerary. It’ll all happen, when agreeable.

“No Bad Things”

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March 12, 2023- “There are no bad things that happen, only things that you like and things that you don’t like-but from which you have not drawn the lessons they offer.” Such was the position taken by a member of the Kaballah denomination of Judaism, in a Zoom session, this morning.

I tend to take a sunny view of many things that happen, and to soldier on through much of the rough stuff. It wasn’t always that way, and I have to own that a fair share of whining has come out of my mouth, over the years. I do draw the line at the slaughter of children, genocide and the greed of the powerful, yet Kaballah sees the Will of the Divine in those events as well.

The silver linings playbook offered by these mystics is arguably worth considering, and I have no idea about how the individual lives of Kaballists have played out-save one, who spent much of my brief encounter with her attacking my character and level of intelligence. I do not regard that individual as having been typical of the mystics.

The organizer of the discussion tends to regard my comments as rather banal, so I limit any responses to the highbrow commenters. Intellectual discourses, at a stellar level, are indeed above my own intellect, but the Kaballist grabbed my interest, with his provocative stances. Suffice it to say, that in the aftermath of a catastrophe, I tend to regard my own role as one of being full on in the cleanup crew. So, in the broader scheme, “soldiering on”, tends to be wont.

In the afternoon, after spending an hour or so with a pre-teen who showed how to do finger knitting (similar to Cat’s Cradle, for the uninitiated) and who tried his hand at origami (I’m no good at that, either), I went to Watson Woods Riparian Area, and hiked along the east bank of Granite Creek. The goal was to ascertain the water level of this creek that feeds into Watson Lake. The area walked was the southeast corner of the preserve, a segment in which I have spent little time in the past. It revealed that the creek is in good shape right now.

Across the creek lies Cottonwood Peninsula, about which more tomorrow. The trail does not distinguish between the intellectual and the raconteur.

What Eternity Is Worth

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March 11, 2023- I attended a memorial service this afternoon, for a man who pretty much devoted his life to the elevation of anyone with whom he came into contact. When his time came, in December, the last photo taken of him was of a smiling man, lifting both arms up, ready for the next level of existence. He was sure he was going to meet Jesus-and my hunch is that he has.

There are those, however, in his circle of friends, who have other ideas. They snarl and sputter about their departed friend’s generosity to the less fortunate. The finite mind is trying to outmaneuver the infinite, as once again, money and power are exercising their appeal. I can’t get more specific than that, due to the matter being in legal process. If injustice seems to be getting the upper hand, however, mine will be one of the loudest voices in this community, calling out the miscreants.

It is worthwhile to ask, however, what is the power-monger’s concept of eternity? Those who occupy the highest seats in any given denomination, of many, if not most, of the world’s major sectarian entities, and a good many of those down the ranks, behave for all the world, as if the promise of eternity does not really exist-or if it does, it is more of the same, with rank having its privileges. The finite mind can never comprehend the infinite. To be fair, the same sense of entitlement is rife among the elite, and the aspiring elite, in many walks of life besides the clergy.

There is, however, good reason why Jesus the Christ cast the moneylenders out of the Temple in Jerusalem, why Mohammad did battle with the merchant class of Yathrib and why Baha’u’llah wrote that “The best beloved of all things in My sight is Justice” (not power, not control, but justice). The way to a better world lies in transcendence of attachment to the material, and in seeing the things of this world as simply tools, as aids to a temporary state of existence-and not as ends in themselves.

It remains to be seen, how many of the departed gentleman’s associates recognize that fact.

The Don’t Blink Emergency

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March 10, 2023- The alert came on my phone, warning of a possible need for me to go over to California, due to imminent flooding. An hour later, the Red Cross sent out an “all-clear” e-mail. This puzzled me, as there was still a weather alert for the state. Oh, well-there’s plenty to do around here-and in the north of AZ, next week and the week after. Then again, things could change, emergency-wise, on a dime.

Spring Break is coming, and with it a respite from working for wages. I did, though, get in two days this week-both among students who welcome my presence and assistance. I spoke earlier of Wednesday’s work; today’s was more upbeat, with a birthday party for one of the students, a fire drill that occurred just as I had retrieved a broom and dustpan for cleanup after a class project and the project itself-making “Leprechaun Traps”. Collaring imaginary humanoids is tricky, according to legend-but the students’ imaginations and systematic planning skills were given free rein. It will remain in the annals of the school, that “Mr. B.” walked down to the fire evacuation area, carrying a broom and dustpan.

There is also good news about the situation I mentioned in the last post. The school has hired a capable worker, who is keeping the troubled student I mentioned on track. Human ingenuity can, as a friend said in a post of her own, reduce the most severe of worst case scenarios to puffs of smoke.

So many “emergencies” tend to end up being “Don’t Blink” affairs.