Whose Mess?

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August 26, 2024- A clumsy man tipped over a full rubbish barrel and lots of stuff came tumbling out. He uttered a mild oath, then stepped aside, and watched as several volunteers cleaned up the spilled items. Appeals from a church elder, for him to pitch in and help, were spaced out and he went outside. Such is dealing with the mentally ill.

I was raised to clean up after myself; most people, I suspect, were, as well. That some will be unable to comprehend that simple social grace is a feature of a society in which “bubbles” are celebrated and “you do you” is seen by many as a virtuous mindset. Avoidance of responsibility is seen as a necessity, a means to guarantee survival “to fight another day”.


Today marked the third anniversary of the explosion at Abbey Gate, at Kabul Airport, resulting in the deaths of thirteen U.S. service people. There was a wreath laying, at Arlington National Cemetery and there was a taking of ownership for the tragedy-two acknowledgements of the pain inflicted on thirteen families, by two radically divergent public figures.

I have a history of assuming responsibility for the messes I’ve either made, or appear to have made-lapses of taking responsibility in my teen years, and in the 2000s, aside. Nobody’s perfect. In the long run, I have had to account for those lapses, too-just as any public servant has to do what the sitting Vice President did today, eventually.

In a world of dodgers, one who does take responsibility for gaffes and tragedies is going to be excoriated, often by the same people who themselves bend into pretzel shapes, in avoiding flack for their misdeeds. It doesn’t make the error in judgement any less severe, but it does detract from the healing process, for those directly hurt and for the public at large.

Healing requires taking responsibility, letting out of pain and reconciliation. It doesn’t allow for hiding and dodging. My earnest respect goes to those who died at Abbey Gate.

Even Flow

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August 24, 2024- Friend catalogued this past year in his life, as today was his birthday. He spoke of his life having run the gamut of emotions, experiences, trials and tribulations, successes and affirmations. He spoke of how fear was what kept him down and led him down a path of paranoia, isolation and self-defeat. On the darkest of those days, strange things happened in the afternoon: He got a job offer, was accepted into a Masters Program and met a woman who has proven to be a near perfect match. The young man I saw this evening is the polar opposite of the individual I have encountered on this day, for the past three years.

It is breathtaking, what faith in the Divine, and a decision to not focus on what one doesn’t want from life,but rather determine what is wanted, can bring into being. I have been through every one of the ups and downs that my young friend catalogued this evening. Only focusing on what I want, rather than obsessing over avoiding the opposite, has turned things around, to where life is joyful. It is never perfect, but this life is not meant for perfection; that will come in another realm.

Several years ago, the band Pearl Jam performed a song entitled “Even Flow”, about the plight of the homeless. In reading the lyrics, I can attest to the subject of the song as having much in common with a lot of us. Any vision of quality of life that depends on the good graces of everyone else is putting the cart in front of the horse, with all the confusion and frustration that implies.

Realizing that one is a soul who is worthy of respect, of good things and of the love of others is the first step in personal renaissance. The rest is day by day actions, great and small. I look forward to watching, as my young friend builds the life he so wants. I also look forward to what life has in store for me, over the next several years. Water goes around obstacles; the flow remains even.

[Verse 1]
Freezin’
Rests his head on a pillow made of concrete, again
Oh, feelin’
Maybe he’ll see a little better set of days, ooh, yeah

Oh, hand out
Faces that he sees time again ain’t that familiar, ooh, yeah
Oh, dark grin
He can’t help, when he’s happy he looks insane, hm, yeah

[Chorus]
Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know, so he chases them away (ooh)

Oh, someday yet, he’ll begin his life again
Life again, life again

[Verse 2]
Kneelin’
Lookin’ through the paper, though he doesn’t know to read, ooh, yeah

Oh, prayin’
Now to something that has never showed him anything

Oh, feelin’
Understands the weather of the winter’s on its way
Oh, ceilings
Few and far between all the legal halls of shame, hey

[Chorus]
Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know, so he chases them away

Oh, someday yet, he’ll begin his life again
Ah, whisperin’ hands gently lead him away
Him away, him away

Be A Tiger

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August 16, 2024- Joseph Campbell, in his 2003 book, Myths of Light, ends his discourse on Eastern religions and thought with the story of “The Tigers and the Goats”. It seems that a pregnant tiger was out seeking food, for herself and her baby. She came upon a herd of goats. Charging and pouncing too hard, she landed roughly, laboured and gave birth, then died.

The goats took pity upon the helpless tiger cub, raised him as one of their own, teaching him to eat grass and bleat. He had no idea there was any difference between him and the goats, though he felt a discomfort. One day, a male tiger came along and charged at the goats, roaring and snarling. The genuine goats scattered, while the tiger-goat stood facing his larger nemesis.

The wise older cat listened, as the tiger-goat explained that he was a grass-eater, a goat. The grown tiger took the juvenile by the neck, led him to a pond and showed him his true likeness. Then he brought his new apprentice to his den, where other tigers were reveling in eating a gazelle they had killed. The young tiger struggled with the meat, but something inside him felt right, and he stayed with the group, learning to seize his true nature.

Each of us should be our true selves. A frugal person, who treasures conserving the best of tradition, cannot pass as a spendthrift or as a free-spirited innovator, without feeling that something is off. Likewise, an innovator, a progressive, fools no one by demanding that tradition be maintained, at all costs. Each can, and hopefully will endeavour to, see the value in what the other is doing, and work to find common ground.

The introvert needs time alone. The extrovert craves company and an expanded network. Most others, like myself, toggle between the two states of being, as ambiverts. Society needs all three personality types.

This is the balance, rooted in the love that was imbued in us by the Divine. We will ever have the process of reaching out, expanding and welcoming more to our circle, then taking time to consolidate and absorb the best of that expansion into our systems.

If you are a tiger, be fierce. If you are an ox, be taurine. If you are a goat, graze peacefully. There is space for all.

Dog Days

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August 14, 2024- Bookend events today saw two friends, who have characteristically been upbeat and supportive, in sour and distant moods. I put this in the category of Dog Days, the heat-related period when people are more than fed up with ongoing dry heat, when in the old days, August Soggy was the result of active monsoon rains. Besides the notion that we can ill-afford an ongoing lack of precipitation, Dog Days make dogs surly and nice people get snippy.

All this makes my friends in tropical climates roll their eyes-just more North American, First World problems. Yes, I am unlikely to raise a fuss when I am across the Pacific, during late summer and into Autumn, as humidity and heat are an expected part of the experience. It is jarring though, to some extent, when those who have been friendly and supportive turn surly, not for anything I have necessarily done, but because they are sick and tired of being sick and tired. Regrouping myself, I will figure out how to be of help to them-and to keep from being more affected myself, by Dog Day mornings and afternoons.

Tonight, though, is crisp and cool, so I can use the respite to hydrate and enjoy a protein shake for supper. This, too, shall pass.

Much Ado at the Raven

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August 4, 2024- The troupe spent a refreshing amount of time on stage dancing to an acoustic rendering of William Shakespeare’s ditty from “Much Ado About Nothing”. They sang it, while dancing, and the audience joined in. Such was the production of the comedy, by the troupe calling themselves, Halfwit Shakespeare. They were hardly half-witted, and absolutely delightful. Admission was free, with gratuities asked for the players as a group.

“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.

    Men were deceivers ever,

One foot in sea, and one on shore,

    To one thing constant never.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

    And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

    Into hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no more

    Of dumps so dull and heavy.

The fraud of men was ever so

    Since summer first was leafy.

Then sigh not so, but let them go,

    And be you blithe and bonny,

Converting all your sounds of woe

    Into hey, nonny, nonny.”-William Shakespeare

The play, for those unfamiliar with it, is a comedy that accents the ridiculous, and avoidable, damage to a person’s reputation from backbiting and gossip. These flaws are an almost ingrained part of the human psyche and, as with many flaws, derive from insecurity. The character assassins are called out, and given one chance to redeem themselves-which they do. Would that all such incidents of assault on character be so easily resolved and reversed.

We are probably due for another round of negative back-and-forth, in the ongoing election cycle-and there is a lot of angst about who is doing what, to wreak havoc on the economy. Backbiting, however, does next to nothing to actually solve matters of concern, and is actually worse than kicking the can down the road. As in the play, however, all that is dark will be brought to light.

It may be a nice temporary fix to stop, take a few deep breaths and, if it helps any, sing a song similar to Shakespeare’s ditty. Then, we can get back up, dust ourselves off and start all over again, as Nat King Cole once advised.

Diamonds in the Sky

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July 31, 2024- Today would have been my parents’ 75th wedding anniversary-their Diamond Jubilee. As always, I took time to recall so many life lessons and watchwords they each imparted, over the years. They both were fond of singing. Mom had a most melodious voice; Dad’s was pleasant and joyful. He would come down the stairs singing “You call everybody darlin’, and everybody calls you darlin’, too”. The verse was from a jaunty song by Al Trace and his band (1948), and the full message was aimed at those who toss out loving words without meaning them. Dad meant his words-both approving and disapproving. He was a man of principle.

They gave us roadmaps- for financial security, for stability in a relationship and for recovering from hardship. Much of this came from their having been raised in a time of deprivation and war. In my younger, more dissolute days, I admit to downplaying their admonitions. Once I was no longer “young and naive”, and had to face my own set of difficulties, all those watchwords came flooding back. My parents knew when to help out and when it was best to stand back and let us sort through our own problems. I try to do the same, both for my little family and for all those who share their problems.

Now, Mom and Dad are among the stars, so to speak, “diamonds in the sky”. Their spirits, along with many others, are watching through the thin veil that separates us. Their guidance will never be lost, as long as I remain lucid. That, I pray, will be for some years to come.

Coming Together

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July 28, 2024, Carson City- Little Man wanted to learn the simple game, which other members of the family were playing. So, he was given a seat at the table and the process was explained very simply. He’s a bright child, so it didn’t take long, and he was fully participating in the game-actually doing quite well at it. Allowances were made for his attention span, so he came and went-taking care of other things that had his interest.

His older sister was involved in the game, and played more consistently. A household chore took her away from the table, and that was more than okay. Peace in any house depends upon respect, across the board. When it later came time for her to spend quality time with her father, as well, that took priority.

There was a calm and very civil air in the house today. I sense it has much to do with the departure of some rather troubled and uncivil neighbours. Toxicity can spread, almost unannounced, insidiously. It was the first time, in quite a while, that the head of the household felt comfortable working in his own back yard, and the relief was palpable. These are good people, who have much love to give to their children and to extended family.

We are each individuals and will always have a sense of separation from even those closest to us. At the same time, we need one another, and pretending otherwise just leads to an unnatural divide. Coming together requires respect, in both directions. Miscreants can be brought into the fold, but on the terms of those who are practicing virtuous behaviour, not the other way around. There is a story that an early Baha’i told, of a saintly man and a ruffian. The saintly one told the ne’er do well that he could help him turn into a respected member of society, “in a month’s time”. The thug replied, ” I can corrupt you, in less than a day.” Both were right, underscoring the need for virtues to be instilled in children, and modeled in a consistent manner, by all significant adult role models in their view. Fortitude and self-discipline are needed, in withstanding the temptations thrown out by such as the miscreant in the story.

I am relieved that the two children, who I love very much, will no longer have to endure the nefariousness next door-and that everyone will be able to show the love for one another that has never been far below the surface, even in times of tension. This has been a wondrous cap to a very fruitful journey. Tomorrow, I head back to Home Base I.

Getting Past Hiccups

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July 20, 2024, Tofino, BC- I will forever consider myself blessed, when it comes to family. I can talk with my son, any of my siblings and any in-laws, with no qualms or trepidation, at a moment’s notice.

So many friends don’t have that blessing. I have heard from friends, recently, about being cut off from adult children and siblings-most often not because of anything they did, but because of third-party interference. This may, or may not, be part of the story, or even the whole story. I know there are those who prey on disaffected youth and actively work to turn them against their parents. There is a special place in the world of retribution for such monsters, but I digress.

No one can turn a person against their loved ones, without that person’s consent. In the end, though, there is loneliness. Chances are, the manipulator won’t be there for the lost soul. The person who is disaffected from their parent(s) or their children will have outlived any usefulness to the predator-who is most often seeking power, in a neurotic manner. So often, the predator will use mainstream religion, or cult membership, to appeal to the prey. Only when the troubled soul wakes up and reconciles with those s(he) has cast out, can there be any chance for real recovery.

I thought about these things, whilst en route to the exquisite Pacific Rim, of west central Vancouver Island. Earlier in the day, after a marvelous rest at Turtle Hostel, in Victoria’s Hillside/Quadra district, I had pleasant meetings with two dear friends, and was glad to be able to offer them support. Regarding Hillside/Quadra, it is ringed by churches and Victoria’s Conservatory of Music-and as I mentioned in the last post, is a haven for unhoused people.

Alex Goold Performance Center, Victoria Conservatory of Music
Anglican Church of St. John the Divine, Victoria
First United Church, Victoria

Each of these institutions does what it can, to help its unhoused neighbours. As is the case back at Home Base, Prescott, there are soup kitchens and active efforts to clothe the people. There, but for the grace of God……

In the next post, I will focus on the cathedrals of a different sort: The majesty of the Pacific Rim and the edge of Clayoquot Sound, particularly in Tofino and Ucluelet. Here is an example:

Clayoquot Sound, Tofino

Staying Wary

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July 2, 2024, Woburn, MA- A family member who is not known for tact tried to put me on the sidelines, in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t back away, which rankled him just a bit, but he didn’t push the issue. We’ve had our differences, now and then, but given that he is half my age, I try not to take things too much to heart.

In the past, particularly in my New England years, there was always a small inner circle, in any group with which I was involved. I was never part of that circle, even if there were only three of us. The other two just had a very strong bond, that either pre-dated my time with them, or was established while we interacted.

Only recently have I even had the level of self-confidence to call out those who sought to keep things tightly controlled or at least keep me on the outside of things. My siblings, thankfully, don’t subscribe to such exclusivity. Most of those with whom I interact now are no more exclusionary towards me than they are towards anyone else. Still and all, I am very wary of anyone who draws a circle around self, and makes sure that “the other”, even one to whom s(he) is related, doesn’t step inside.

I used to ascribe exclusionary behaviour to “American culture”, or “elitism”. Anymore, I associate it with insecurity or misplaced anger. No one can be totally accepting of all those around them, in the course of this life, but it stands to reason that moving away from small enclosed circles is mark of spiritual growth.

Fighter

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June 29, 2024, Bedford, MA- Mom had a rallying day, today. She breathed better and expressed herself-not verbally, but very clearly, about a certain matter. We were able to put her concerns into words, because that’s one of the things for which we are there.

I get the sense, from Jetpack, that people are “bored” with this whole account of my family’s travails. Too bad-because it will continue, until its ending. If taking care of loved ones is not your area of interest, feel free to not bother “viewing”. That said, I do very much appreciate all those on shared sites, especially on Facebook and LinkedIn, who have been supportive-along with my two most faithful WP readers, who comment, as well as “like” the posts.

I will continue being here for Mom, taking some time the second week of July, for commitments in Arizona that cannot be re-scheduled (There will be family members here for her, during that time)-but I will return here after those, if she keeps up her fight. She spent a lifetime doing this for all five of her children. Now it’s time for us to stand by her, until transition is complete.

I can’t express enough appreciation for her lifetime of love and service, in any other way.