Category Archives: Inner Struggles

Worlds Within A World, Part V

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Slow Food Prescott, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 18, 2026- Mom once said, a boy becomes a man at forty. In my case, it was more like sixty-five.

As my son left for Navy Basic Training, at Great Lakes, north of Chicago, I determined that I would set out for parts unknown. I found that I had a flat tire, so that impulse faded and I went back to the Phoenix house. Two weeks later, I packed what I needed and drove to the family house in Prescott. I spent a few days, then went back and gave away five extended cab pickup loads to Goodwill. My auto body mechanic, Bill, all 6’9″ of him, hauled the stuff away, for $300 and my rocking chair. I loaded a few more boxes with me to take to Prescott, but before I closed up the Phoenix house and drove off, the place had one last hook to sink into me: When I turned off the washing machine faucets, the cold water valve broke. I managed to get to the shutoff bib, before too much water had leaked, but there was drywall that needed replacing, as well as the valve. I bartered with my landscaper, who lived down the street and was willing to do the work: The washer and dryer, a freezer and $200 worth of tools. I left the house keys with him and drove on up to Prescott.

Prescott world (2011-25) was the longest I lived in any one town since Saugus. I would go back and forth to Phoenix, until the sale closed, in 2013, but how I recovered and where, was all on me. I took to the road, a fair number of times, going back to the East Coast at least once a year, often twice. California, Nevada and the Pacific Northwest became regular haunts. I managed to re-visit every state, except Montana and North Dakota, plus several parts of Canada. The Philippines nearly became a second home, and I returned to South Korea for the wedding of Aram and Yunhee. I made it to Europe twice, visiting sixteen countries. Any one of those places could feel like home, and there were parts that did. Prescott, and Arizona, were always a delight to which to return. I devoted myself to hikes, both long and short, as well as soaking up the history of the Grand Canyon State.

Community service filled my days: Paid service in the form of substitute teaching and sweat equity, in Baha’i activities, at the Farmers Market, the Red Cross, Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, various events held by Slow Food- Prescott and a few activities of the American Legion. I paid back all the kindness that the town and surrounding area had shown us in 1992 and 2000-01. Most important, though, was that I regained the self-respect that had been bled from me, during the long period in the desert. I stood up to grifters and thugs, at least five times, during my time in Prescott, acquiring more stamina in the process.

I bid farewell to my mother, both of my in-laws and a fair number of extended family and friends, during this time. Each one gone, though, just made a place in my heart-so that it got bigger. I fell in love again, and might have even sought to re-marry, but for the birth of my beloved granddaughter. This event put an end to Prescott world and opened yet another phase. Plano world began on New Year’s Day.

Worlds Within A World, Part IV

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual

May 17, 2026- In January, 1998, Penny fell over her parents’ service dog, who was sleeping by our door, at the family home in Prescott. The resulting head trauma seemed slight, but we consulted a physician in Flagstaff, who treated her and monitored the situation. We had five more fairly good years, thereafter.

I learned three things from Chilchinbeto: Good-hearted people stand by one who keeps their best interests top of mind; those interested mainly in power and control have little concern for those best interests; troubled people need more time for their issues to be addressed, than is frequently allotted. My time there ended in May, 1999. Five other people succeeded me as Principal of that Community School, in a span of six years. The fifth person finally managed to stay more than a year, and achieved what I had planned to do in a second year. She did this in 2005. Sometimes, even the basic and the obvious must wait for the mud to settle and for the clouds to pass.

The Low Desert world (1999-2011) took us to Salome, where a former mentor was Superintendent of Schools, and needed an Acting Principal to serve one year, until a local favourite could get his certificate. That man was Assistant Principal, while I was there. Penny was the Special Education Teacher. My strength was in building a network, across the sprawling expanse of desert communities, visiting each of the feeder elementary schools once a quarter and meeting with the parents and community leaders, in each of the seven towns and villages within the District, once a semester. Advocating for the students and teachers also proved fairly successful.

We left Salome after a year. I got a Principalship at a school for adjudicated girls, outside Prescott and we lived there and in Mesa, outside Phoenix, during the 2000-01 academic year. I left that position after only seven months, due to physical and emotional exhaustion. It was at that point that I decided to focus mainly on substitute teaching and being available to go to Mesa, while Penny was enrolled in classes in technology, which she saw as being a major thrust in the economy in the years ahead.

In August, 2001, we took an apartment in Phoenix, Penny went to work full time in the Dysart Unified School District and I worked at two different schools in Phoenix, as well as doing part time work for an inventory service. The attacks on New York and the Pentagon foreshadowed what was ahead for us, and in April, 2003, two further incidents of head trauma started my wife’s physical decline in earnest. I was her caretaker from then until her passing in March, 2011. During that time, life went on, to the best of our collective ability. She worked until February, 2007, earned her third Master’s Degree-this one in Educational Technology. Our son graduated high school in 2006, tried his hand at community college study, but was mostly focused on his mother.

We purchased a home, shortly after Penny’s third fall, in May, 2003 and got off to a fairly good start in paying the mortgage. Then the housing bubble burst and our medical debt piled on. We learned the limits of our finances, and of the patience of some employers. With guidance from family and our own determination, we stuck together. I would never have left her; that is not how I was raised. I wanted to also set the example for our son, that no earthly challenge is insurmountable.

In 2010, Penny spent the year in a specialty hospital and I split my time between teaching assignments and her bedside. I partially renovated the house, painting the outside and much of the interior, and replaced the carpets, with help from our next door neighbour. My only regret is that I didn’t finish the interior painting, before Penny passed. In the end, I had to set priorities-and, with the house in short sale, the Low Desert world was coming to a conclusion.

We laid Penny to rest, Aram joined the Navy in July, 2011, and I began to pick up the pieces and show the world that there was still a purpose to my presence. The Prescott world began in August, 2011.

Worlds Within A World, Part III

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

May 16, 2026– As Penny and I settled into our temporary digs, in Osan, South Korea, the most compelling concern our American host had was that we not cross the chopsticks. It turned out to not be a problem for either of us-we knew how to use the implements already, having dined in several Chinese and Thai establishments in Arizona. There were aspects of Korean society that took more adjusting, but I learned to put the group first, to master the art of saving the face of anyone with whom I might be in conflict and to properly bow, in greeting a social equal or a superior. I adored the music, both traditional and pop, the eagerness to learn of my students, and the reverence for nature shown by most Koreans.

Most of our Korea years (1986-92) were spent on the holiday island of Jeju, a four season paradise, which had yet to attract the intensive Chinese and Japanese investment that has led to overdevelopment in the southern and north central parts of the island. It was another place that, in retrospect, was a five-year blessing. We were each Visiting Professors of conversational English, and taught our students in a holistic manner, linking speaking with reading and writing in our native tongue. We came to learn “market” Korean and to be able to read words written in Hangul. Our son was born there, and was blessed with a lifelong love of the country and its people.We spent a fair amount of time in Seoul, Daegu and Busan, as well, and before I left, I made a bus trip around the periphery of the country. We visited the island of Taiwan, also, establishing heart connections with both Han Chinese and Native Taiwanese people, while teaching the Baha’i Faith and engaging in community service. There are people in both countries who, while I am unlikely to see them again, will be deep in my heart always.

Baha’ullah admonishes His followers to choose honouring our parents over even direct service to His Cause. In January, 1992, Penny’s parents made it clear that they were hurting, both physically and emotionally, from not seeing their only grandson but once a year. So, we moved back to Arizona, where they lived in Prescott, six months of the year and in Bedminster, NJ, the rest of the time. We spent six months in Prescott, and I each worked as a substitute teacher, while Penny remained home with our toddler son. “Home”, during this time, ranged from a motel room to a townhouse. I admit to having been a bit shaky, emotionally, going from a high status position, where I was revered by many, to starting from scratch, as a temporary instructor. This was saved by a return to the Navajo and Hopi Nations (1992-99).

I was again a counselor, and Penny taught Second Grade for two years, then became a literacy specialist, using the Collaborative Literacy Intervention Program (CLIP). During this time, I was elevated by my second building principal, herself a seasoned counselor, to providing a holistic counseling program that included vocational and leisure time skills, as well as psychological and emotional counseling. I also completed my school administration credential, and in 1998, left Jeddito, where we had become settled, to try my hand at running a Navajo Community School. I had become a strong presence in the lives of many students in the Cedar Unified School District, and helped save a few lives. Ambition became a trap, though, and I learned. once again, in my year at Chilchinbeto, that there are people working in a school and living in the community, for whom the actual well-being of children is a secondary concern, at best. By the spring of 1999, Penny was starting to show signs of physical and cognitive decline, I was let go by the Governing Board at Chilchinbeto, and we found ourselves in the small desert town of Salome. As with Tuba City and Jeju, there are people in Jeddito and the Hopi Mesas who I will cherish.always, even if I don’t see them again.

Worlds Within A World, Part I

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

May 14, 2026- When I was serving in VietNam, my mates referred to the United States as “The World”. It was obvious that this was a euphemism, that the consensus was our homeland was, in effect, the place that mattered above all else. Our world was where family, closest friends and, for many, their sweethearts were waiting.

I have always been a globalist, seeing the people of other nations as having equal importance to me and mine, in the bigger picture. Yet, as I look at my life thus far, periods of time can be centered on a particular place, for a given number of years. Thus these 75 years have seen the following worlds.

The Saugus world (1950-1969)- Although I was born, and lived my first six months, in nearby Melrose, most of my growing up years were spent living in two houses in Saugus, Massachusetts. My wanderlust primarily saw me going around different neighbourhoods of the town, or to neighbouring Lynn. Mashpee, on Cape Cod, and the area between North Conway and Franconia, NH were part of the Saugus World, as they were our family vacation haunts. Other places in eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire and southern Maine were gradually added to my world-with Boston only entering the list in 1964, when I went with my father on the Freedom Trail. Camping, hiking and body surfing became my idea of fun during the Saugus years. I connected with a small group of neighbourhood kids, was in my share of scraps, had crushes on girls and attempted to attend college, then dabbled in factory work-neither of which my unfocused mind met with success.

The Army world (1969-72)- Training for, and working in, postal work took me away from Saugus. Home was, successively, in Fort Jackson, SC; Fort Benjamin Harrison, IN; Fort Myer, VA; Long Binh and Cholon, VN. I was happiest when on the job, then. I had a few close buddies, but mostly kept to myself. During training, I stayed put, save for a “Most Improved Trainee” weekend pass to Myrtle Beach, SC and a few weekend nights in Columbia and Indianapolis. While in Fort Myer, I became well-acquainted with Washington, DC and learned the train and air shuttle routes between Washington and Boston. Viet Nam obviously was a constricted period, though I took R&R in Sydney for a few days and enjoyed a day in Vung Tau, a beach town near Saigon.

The College World (1972-76)- Once out of the Army, I was more focused and completed Associates and Baccalaureate work, living the first two years again mostly in Saugus, save a brief residence in Beverly, near the campus of North Shore Community College. During this time, I went on a week’s road trip to Prince Edward Island, went to Montreal and Quebec Ville, three or four times, worked several part-time jobs and hit the club scene way too often. I lived in and around the University of Massachusetts-Amherst, for the last two years of this period. Northampton and South Deerfield replaced the Orchard Hill dorms as home, during my last 1 1/2 years of school.

The Maine world (1976-78)- Not all of my life decisions have been good ones. After graduating college and substitute teaching in Saugus and North Reading, with limited success, I went back to a resort in Maine, where I had worked two years earlier. Life at Quisisana was maudlin at best, but I made busing tables a focus and the summer passed nicely. At summer’s end, with no job prospects in eastern Massachusetts and no real attachment to the Amherst area, I went north, to Bangor, as it was near Orono, where I had paternal relatives,and an ancestral connection in Old Town. There was a young lady to whom I was drawn, but it fizzled quickly. I got a small tutoring gig, then a job teaching Emotionally Disabled middle schoolers, followed, the next year by a stint as Title I Tutor. Bangor, Brewer and Dexter were my anchor towns, Etna-Dixmont School paid the bills and the mountains near Kingfield were my solace. I explored all parts of Maine and a good chunk of New Brusnwick, during this time.

After my second year of treading water, it was time to move along. Arizona beckoned, and thus came another world.

By Example

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving

May 11, 2026- Some of what I have modeled for Hana has been physical-even crawling on my hands and knees, a little, so she can see what is involved, and reading words from left to right, pointing,as she follows each word, I also explain what I;m doing, step by step, no matter how simple the task.

She maintains focus, quite a bit more than one might expect a 4.5-month-old infant to keep attention. It seems to be a matter of storing information, either for use in a week or two, as with crawling or the sequence of letters, to recall and use as a toddler.

Funny thing about example: One never knows when little eyes and ears are picking up on what is being said or done. I had given up cursing long before Aram was born, as I just didn’t see any use for such talk, when other words met my needs just as well. He was quite assertive, in calling out what he thought was behaviour that was not in sync with words, especially in middle childhood.

I have a feeling that Hana will do the same. She already communicates quite well, with body language, eye contact and babbles that are fairly comprehensible as words. There is even a fair amount of intonation that give a sense of what she wants to convey.

Example is just the least one can do, to build character in those for whom one is responsible. It is crucial in child rearing-and just as much so, in positions of public responsibility. I had a high bar to maintain, and did, as a teacher, counselor and building principal-and even as a substitute teacher, in my last years of work. I didn’t always meet the expectations of the higher echelon or of the governing boards, but my standing with all but a few students, co-workers and parents was constantly stable.

Elected officials, likewise, would do a whole lot better to adhere to the highest standard of conduct. It’s been a while since that bar has been met, by all too many in public office. This has nothing to do with ideology. As we have seen, there are honest, trustworthy conservatives and progressives alike and there are the opposite, among both camps.

Bringing oneself to account each day seems to be the most effective counter to backsliding and it pays dividends, in terms of how one’s example is followed.

Hands and Knees

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

May 9, 2026- Hana used her knees to move herself forward to day. She crawled forward without anyone serving as a backstop for her feet. This has been something she’s wanted to do for at least three weeks, and today, the connection clicked. She is not a quitter, and I told her I was proud of her.

Seeing the little girl keep at something, until it happened, brought me back to her father learning to ride a bicycle and, a few months later, how to swim. He was five. The earlier milestones he met all happened when I was at work: His first crawl, his first steps and his first unmimicked words. I will be around for Hana’s little victories.

Many times in life, both individually and as a community, setbacks are faced. I don’t know the cosmic reason for this. Maybe it is a matter of needing to revisit a situation and deepen one’s skill sets. Perhaps someone else involved in a process needs the same, and you are just along for the ride.Maybe those opposed to forward progress need to revisit the situation, in a position of power, and be shown, one more time, why their backward focus doesn’t work.

Regardless, getting through the situation, with the equivalent of the hands and knees working in synchronicity, is always essential. Whether the cooperation involves two people or a thousand, commitment, consultation and mutual understanding are the keys. Whether it entails the use of hand tools, power tools or electronics, making sure the devices are appropriate to the job, are in good working order, and that the instructions for their use and care are read, understood and followed, is imperative.

Every task comes back to the hands and knees.

False Equivalence

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

May 8, 2026- I read a post, this evening, in which a grown woman complains that a 6-year-old, who has been diagnosed with autism, “conveniently” reins in her tantrums-when there are no flashing lights and sudden noises. My, my!

I am mildly autistic. Much of my more “inconvenient” behaviour has fallen away, over the past few decades. It’s been a while, since I was six year old -or thirteen-or twenty-five. Learning which foods aggravate my neural functioning, and avoiding them, has helped. Meditation and daily prayer also help focus my energies. Maturation, though, has been largely responsible, for changes in my behaviour.

I will say, though, that we still have a society which is poor at recognizing developmental differences between young children, adolescents, young adults and people of “middle age”. I spoke yesterday about magical thinking. People like the complainer in the above-mentioned post tend to indulge in wishful thinking. Too lazy, rigid or ignorant to recognize and accept differences in people, they stage public shaming rituals and look under rocks for reasons to excoriate those with disabilities.

While I, out of common courtesy, have made a concerted effort to evolve my own behaviours in a positive direction, If I encounter a confrontation between a neurodivergent child and an adult, other than a parent*, who is passing judgement, I will stand up for the child. There are ways to calm and refocus an autistic or other neurodivergent person. Confrontation and “tough love” are certainly not among them.

Beside, saying that a 6-year-old should be held to the same standard as an adult is false equivalence and says more about the unmet needs of the complainer than it does about the child.

  • Parents of neurodivergent children are most often supportive of their child and seek non-escaltatory solutions to situations that arise, involving their child.

Magical Thinking

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Fiction, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 7, 2026- Hana pushes herself to reach certain places on her crawling mat, but was showing a bit of frustration at being limited to the same route, day after day. It was time for another segment, so down went the multi-modal quilt, with its alphabet, colour bar, shapes and illustrations of animals and objects. This doubled the area that she has to navigate, and she took to it right away.

My granddaughter had been acting as if she should be able to go through walls or pieces of furniture, getting frustrated at this also, so Papa has the task of gently encouraging her to turn, when confronted with a barrier. I even showed her that my almighty self can’t go through a wall, which she found amusing, while getting the point.

Many of the old stories I am reading her now, European fairy tales, present magical solutions to harrowing scenes. I choose to focus more on the character-building elements that are embedded in the tales, rather than the amazing feats of derring do. It only touches a slight level of her consciousness, of course, but I can recall, from my own toddlerhood, having a sense that I had heard stories that pointed the way to correctness, even earlier in my life. So, we go down this path together, She will retain what sticks in her mind and re-learn the rest later.

Much magical thinking comes from being used to having certain things happen almost instantaneously- like fast food being prepared and served in minutes, or AI popping up with answers to questions, in mere seconds. Another friend, examining the matter, points out that experiencing something, even several times, does not mean that it will be integrated with one’s psyche or behavioural repertoire. “I spent a week in Sweden” hardly qualifies me to claim any more than cursory knowledge of the country and its people. “I changed the spark plugs in my Ford LTD, back in 1975”, does not make me anywhere near a skilled auto mechanic. It is integration, not encountering, that determines the level of any change one wishes to see in life.

There is also a larger process at work, sometimes called “the arc of history” and in other forums, “the Major Plan of God”. We on the ground can only understand a smidgen of it, but here’s the thing: Just as a motor vehicle can go either forward or in reverse, it moves most efficiently forward. Reverse is meant only for short distances, like backing out of a parking space, or going a few yards back to where a loved one is waiting to communicate a last-minute thought. Going backwards in society can only be temporary, mostly to correct errors made in moving ahead too quickly. It cannot be done with a view towards reinstating the “Golden Days of Yesteryear”.

I will have more to say about this in an upcoming post.

Obsessions

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

April 10, 2026- As I sit at the computer, reading some articles and writing my own, I watch one or two squirrels traversing the neighbour’s roof and nearby trees, living the full life of exercise, play and acorn gathering that make up the life of a tree squirrel. I also listen for my granddaughter, napping downstairs in her bassinet. She will call out or coo, when she wakes up, knowing that I will shortly come downstairs and tend to her needs.

In neither the rodent, nor the innocent child, is there an excessive focus on anything other than surviving and thriving. Once a person reaches the age of reason, however, unmet needs can turn into obsessions, almost exclusive foci on one or two persons or concepts, even to the extent of neglecting one’s daily duties or responsibilities.

A friend has written an article about “derangement syndrome”. I have yet to read the piece, but I can say, ahead of the game, that such terms indicate obsession, not only by the person who hates, but also by the one who is receiving the vitriol-if that person encourages the attention. It is well-understood, by child psychologists and parents, that a neglected child, one deprived of attention over an extended period, will construct his or her own universe, in which he or she is the center.

We all do this, to a modest extent, as no parent, however dedicated and loving, can shower attention on a child 24/7. For the well-adjusted person, however, there are limits to self-absorption: A spouse, a friend, a sibling, a child or an organization will have needs that the individual, of own volition, will choose to help meet.

For the deprived individual, however, everything in the constructed universe becomes transactional, with him or her as the end recipient. The longer and stronger the deprivation, the deeper the delusion, the louder the demands for attention, and the more creative the transactions. This has been borne out, throughout history, across nations and cultures.

Now, it’s time to tend to my granddaughter.

Atonement

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Posted by on in Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social

April 5, 2026- It was a blustery, snowy night, in February, 1978. Out of money, out of gas for my Ford LTD, I walked into the Sheriff’s Office, in Skowhegan, and asked the deputy to lock me in a cell for the night. I had broken no human laws, but still felt that a night in jail was what I deserved. He obliged-no charges, no fines, just a hard bunk, an old pillow and a blanket.

I had gone up to the Winter Carnival, in Quebec, with three young ladies along. They found their own accommodations, and I, my own. We met up on Sunday morning, after what had been a fairly pleasant 1 1/2 days. The ride back, through an increasingly heavy snow, was sent from Down Below. By the time we got to Skowhegan, in western Maine, the car was nearly out of gas, we were all just about out of money and the women were out of patience with me. They left, and were able to hitch a ride, or two, back to Orono, and their university dorms.

I chose to wait until morning, thus the jail cell. It’s the only time I have ever been the guest of a county sheriff, or of any law enforcement authority. At 7 a.m., the sheriff himself unlocked the cell and wished me well. I got the remaining food out of the cooler in the car, locked it again and hitched my own ride back to Bangor. I called my cousin in Orono and got him to take me tot he bank, then to Skowhegan, where I then gassed up the car and caravaned with him back to Bangor. (As it happened, Monday was bright and sunny, and I had been expected at work. A call from the pay phone outside the sheriff’s office cleared that up.)

I thought, long and hard, that night, about the man I’d become: Unmoored, in a no-win job situation, and with little to show for my twenty-seven years. I shortly afterward entered a Master’s program, at the University of Maine. I would not take more than three courses, in the time I had left, but it was a jump forward and I showed myself that there was hope for the future. In June, 1980, my Master’s program re-started, at Northern Arizona University, and I made good.

A footnote: Cleaning out my LTD, on Monday afternoon after the debacle, I found the wallet of one of the ladies, and drove it up to her dorm in Orono. She wasn’t in, which was just as well, so I left it with her roommate, who had heard all the grisly details and was understandably frosty. I only hope the lives of those three women have gone much better, since that night.