The Dreamer’s Edge

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March 9, 2024- The young lady looked, for all the world, like a 1920s Flapper. The moment she began singing, though, the melodious and heartfelt voice brought the chatty audience to rapt silence. Her connecting two very different semblances and times-the Roaring Twenties and the Hesitant Expectancy of the 2020s gave me much to consider. There really isn’t a whole lot different, between the two decades that lie a century apart.

Two business-oriented politicians, Calvin Coolidge and Donald Trump, set the tone for the conduct of affairs in the country. Both believed in the power of the marketplace and in cultivating a top-down economic structure, in which commercial interests are to be the stimulators of the nation’s prosperity. Coolidge’s programs did not factor in the suffering that was still extant in Europe, after World War I and the Influenza Epidemic of 1918-19. Trump’s programs were stymied by Covid-19, and by the turmoil in underdeveloped countries, much of it fueled by the international drug trade and its accompanying violence.

In the economic crash that followed the failure of Coolidge’s policies, and those of his successor, Herbert Hoover, only a combination of progressive governmental intervention, and the outbreak of another global conflict brought about recovery on a massive scale. It took twelve years to complete. The turmoil that accompanied Trump’s efforts was not as severe, but some governmental intervention from his successor’s team has helped lower inflation and improve at least the long-term prospects for a good many people. Time will tell whether the short-term efforts of the current administration will register with the American public.

In both decades, the difficulties faced by the average person led to impatience, and a certain amount of tolerance for authoritarian rule-even among those of historically marginalized populations. Only the recognition of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s comprehensive platform for recovery, and the patriotic fervor that followed the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and the D-Day landing at Normandy, three years later, stayed the hand of ultra-conservatism. It remains to be seen how the current, palpable climate of impatience will play out, in the Fall.

The capacity of the human spirit to look beyond temporary difficulties, the dreamer’s edge, if you will, may yet temper any rush to embracing a retreat from the constitutional republic, a form of democracy. In order for that to happen, the frequent victims of reverse marginalization need to be heard, and to feel that their concerns are being addressed-by the forces of a democratic mindset. That must happen, without the zero-sum game playing out; without historically-marginalized groups being shoved, once again, back into the corners of the American Mansion.

Will the current Twenties roar, or squeak?

All Sacred, Holy

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March 7, 2024- The veteran teacher was barely able to stand up, at day’s end, admitting that she was completely exhausted-and would take her time driving home this afternoon. I was able to help with a few of the remaining tasks this afternoon, during her meeting elsewhere, and the children were both helpful and well-mannered. My tie with teacher and students is sacred.

This evening, the President of the United States delivered an address that was, by turns, feisty, celebratory, and accusatory. A senator, from the opposing party, gave a response that was measured, questioning and accusatory in kind. Both recognize that their relative positions are somewhat rooted in fact, but missed the recognition that their opposite’s positions are also, to some extent, rooted in fact. The truth is bigger than the sum of its parts. Confusion comes from ambition, from the stance that only oneself can resolve the issues facing our time. Confusion comes from a totalitarian mindset. Both liberalism and conservatism are necessary. Each has a piece of the truth, and that piece is sacred. The truth is bigger than the sum of its parts. The truth cannot be fabricated, or deep-faked. It will come out, regardless. Truth is sacred.

While all that was going on, a few friends and I were in devotions, and were talking of communications with the next world. When I was at Penny’s grave site, on Tuesday, I noticed an inscription that had not been there, previously. It was not in any script that I recognize, and I know of the essential forms of Arabic, Hebrew, Mandarin, Korean, Japanese, Burmese, Thai and Cyrillic scripts, as well as the Phoenician/Roman alphabet. It was not in any of those, and I got a message that this was a sign of her spiritual progress. One of the more “practical” friends in the group said it was probably just gang graffiti. Not everything that happens in this life, however, has a quotidian cause. All communication that comes from the heart, or from spirit, is holy.

I have, as has been said often, a large number of friends, across the continent and across the planet. All of these relationships are sacred, as all life is sacred, holy. This is true, from the moment of conception, though we must somehow ascertain exactly when conception takes place. This is true through infancy and childhood, even when those stages are difficult. It is true throughout adolescence and adulthood, and into the senior years. It is true, whether a person presents self as a liberal, conservative, moderate; as Christian, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist or Baha’i; is male, female or uncertain as to sex. All people, indeed all living beings, are, at their core, sacred, holy.

It behooves those, who are quick to cast aspersions on others, to remember that. Yes, I include myself in that admonition.

Further Reflections On The Graveside Vigil

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March 6, 2024- The dream sequence found Penny and me in an Italian restaurant, in a very different community. The proprietor took my debit card, and a couple of other cards, which were beige. He asked me if we wanted dessert, which was answered in the negative. He ran all three cards, then came back and sternly said that the two beige cards could not be used, as I had the wrong citizenship. He seemed hesitant to use the debit card, and we were at a standstill. Then I awoke, and realized there was no such conflict.

I felt a heaviness, as the message came to get up and start the day. Not really being fully in the moment, I nonetheless got up and went about grooming and dressing for the work day. It was a very good day, with a fair amount accomplished, working with individual students and one group. After work and a chiropractic adjustment, messages began to come to me, relative to yesterday’s visit to the Arizona Memorial Cemetery.

Questions were the format by which these messages were introduced. The answers, at least for now, came to me almost instantaneously.

“Why are some presences in my life stronger, more meaningful than others? Are some more loved than the rest?” It is beyond a simple matter of ‘some are friends, while others are mere acquaintances’. “Such reasoning is a dodge. Everyone whom one encounters is worthy of being viewed as a friend, although some make it difficult. Those closest, and most beloved, are in some instances present in one’s life for a long time, in some cases for a lifetime. In other cases, they appear late in one’s life, yet are no less treasured. Some are with a soul every day; others only fleetingly, and in other cases, may only be encountered once or twice.”

“Why am I feeling a drag on my energy, as if there is a darkness about? ” I had not felt this, in other graveside visits. “There is a residue of guilt. Also, it would have been preferable for you to make a brief visit here, then to have engaged in an act of service-even to have worked a half day. It is not necessary to make a visit to this place, as your primary act for these anniversaries.”

With these reflections, I go forward and know that there will be further questions and answers, as this year of rapid fire change and the overcoming of conundrums, along with artfully managing synchronicity- Many people tap into the prevailing energy of a given date and time, to schedule events at the same time as others, even knowing that the same people will be drawn to both events. Splitting one’s time between competing events isn’t just for Christmas Eve and New Year’s, anymore.

Three Times in Love

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February 14, 2024- I read, on the back of one of my baby pictures,of all that coursed through the young woman’s heart, as she gazed upon her first born child-yours truly.        Thirty years after that photo was taken, a winsome, effervescent young woman came up to me, and started talking about the event where were both in attendance.            Forty-three years after that night of rain and snow, a winsome, effervescent and mature woman came over to me and began talking of her family, smiling broadly with pride in her daughter.

It’s said that one only falls in love with three people, in this life: The love who looks right; the hard love and the love that lasts. This theory takes in an adolescent crush, as its notion of first love, but leaves out the obvious person: One’s opposite sex parent. My mother was my first love, and set the ideal for anyone who came along later. I learned my code of conduct, love of learning and attention to detail, from that diligent and sometimes exacting woman. A boy sees, hears and feels the love of his mother, above all the other females in his young life. I didn’t always listen to her, and bristled, as often as I acquiesced, to her dictums and rules. A man ponders, internalizes, and often passes on to his own progeny, those same precepts-along with what was learned from his father.

I had my share of adolescent crushes, none of which came to anything, and as an emerging, but still immature, thirty-year-old I started to feel something stirring within myself-after living a hard twelve years of struggle with alcohol dependency, a fairly obvious place on the autism spectrum and a pretty serious level of self-loathing. That stormy night, in December, 1980, I came face-to-face with the woman who would be both the love who looked right and the hard love. We worked through a lot, raised a child, and raised each other, past a lot of lingering adolescence. She brought a renewed Faith in the Divine, into my world, and refined my idea of unconditional love. It could be said that she made a man out of me-and certainly impelled me to cast out my lingering demons. That was a process, though, that lasted beyond her own time in this world, and caused me some grief, for a few years after death did us part.

The third love is the one we don’t see coming. I certainly was taken aback, having resigned myself to living out my years surrounded by friends, but essentially alone. Yet, there she was, captivating me more than anyone had, in a good many years-and certainly as much as Penny had, on that night in Zuni. This time, we were part of a group, which went to some places together and, right up to the day I left their company, did not consciously strike me as an agent of the change that was to come. I was cavalier about when I would come back to visit them. Yet, underneath it all, feelings began to bubble to the surface. Before a month had passed, from my return to Home Base, I knew I was in deep.

The love we don’t see coming is said to be the love that lasts. I personally think all three last. I will always be looking out for my mother, as long as she is alive, even though she is safe and secure-and 2,655 miles away. I will always be praying for the well-being and advancement of Penny’s soul, even as her spirit continues to guide me. I will continue to communicate, often daily, with the woman for whom I feel a welling of love, and carefully build a lasting friendship, based on mutual respect and devotion.

All three are strong, independent souls, capable of fiercely defending their loved ones, their values and their own persons. That strength, independence and ferocity, as I mentioned yesterday to a distant friend, are what bound me to my mother and drew me to Penny, and to K. Only a strong woman can truly bring out the strength in a man.

So I wish my third love a Happy Valentine’s Day, and can only hope to be as valued in her heart, as she is in mine.

Here’s Tommy James, offering a take on the notion.

Enjoy the Silence

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February 10, 2024- The young stock clerk asked me if I were a professor, at one of the local universities. I answered in the negative, whereupon she told me a have a doppelganger who teaches aeronautics. Such a small world.

I was awakened, this morning, by a soft spirit voice: ”Open your eyes; open your eyes”. I did so, at 4:44 a.m., and got up, starting my day. The first thought was-“Maybe something has happened, to a loved one.” Nothing happened. I was up, awake, in a silent neighbourhood, with no urgent messages on my phone or on social media. What the spirit voice was trying to convey is still unclear, sixteen hours later.

I ran out of steam, right around the time that a community meeting was halfway finished, and a friend had to nudge me awake. This is due to having run out of Lifelong Vitality Supplements, which seem to be the only thing, other than coffee, that help me stay awake through meetings of any kind. Funny, but when I have to be physically active, there is no fatigue setting in. 

There is a sudden quiet on the volunteer front, as well. Both Farmers Market and the local Red Cross office have decided my services are not needed, at least for a while. Some of this is push back for being enamoured of someone who lives far away-as if that is any of the paid staff’s business, or anyone else’s, for that matter. Lord knows, I haven’t made a big deal of my private life. There are other issues, with Red Cross, but those, too, are superfluous to my effectiveness as a volunteer. Life will go on.

As recently as two years ago, I probably would have had a meltdown over this turn of events. This evening, the choice was to go for a modest workout at Planet Fitness, observe Lunar New Year with an Ubon dinner at an Asian & Hawaiian restaurant, and stock up further at Trader Joe’s. This was sparked by the commentary on an online conference, presented by the Space in One World network, which seeks to establish commonality between people. The speakers made many valid points, with two sticking out as apropos to my present status: 1. It is time to work with people one may not like; 2. When one door, or several, close, it is crucial to look for those that are still open.

The stock clerk, at Trader Joe’s, also made my day.

Simply Put

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February 6, 2024- “Do not tell me ‘No’.”, the precocious five-year-old stated. So, I did what any sensible adult would do. ”No”, was all I said- and he wasn’t asking where a man might find a bed. He got the point and went off to engage in an activity that was within the bounds of the class’s purview.  I had not worked with Pre-schoolers, in eight years. The instructional day hasn’t changed much: 3-year-olds in the morning and 4-5 year-olds in the afternoon. There are 5 adults working in the morning, and 3 in the afternoon. We locked the doors to the closet, to the cleaning supply cabinet and to the hallway. A couple of kids cried, when they didn’t get their way, and I showed one of them how to resolve the triggering issue, without melting down. At day’s end, it was still raining, so we walked the bus riders through a completely enclosed route and to their designated vehicles-keeping very sharp eyes on our little charges, all the way. Yes, school has been in session for six months, but small children are small children, and I retain too many anecdotes, from over the years, of kids wandering off, going to the rest room without telling an adult or even falling asleep-on the wrong bus, and being left there, because the driver had checked off all his “regular” riders, and hadn’t checked the actual seats. The angry father all but made the Superintendent go to the bus yard, when his little girl didn’t come home, as expected.

Simply put, no stone is left unturned, anymore, when it comes to child safety, and parental nerves.

California was pummeled, again today, and will be, into tomorrow, as another Atmospheric River soaks the region, from Ensenada to the Lost Coast and from Los Angeles to the Colorado River. This, of course, means Arizona and Nevada are getting their share of wet. It rained all day, here, and now it is snowing, briskly, with six inches on the ground,as I write this, and lots more to come, overnight. I pray that friends and family in California and Nevada are safe-and that we, here, also keep clear of harm’s way.

Simply put, Mother Nature is scolding us, for the self-centeredness of all too many, who disregard her warnings.

Habit, or Potential

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January 31, 2024- As I woke from a disturbing dream, this morning, I realized that I was not driving through gale force winds or microgusts, that there was no Mexican farm woman being propelled by such gusts, towards my vehicle and that I was not at risk of hurting her, or anyone else. My habit, after such dreams, has been to engage in what-ifs and self-doubts. I would not let that happen, today.

My cosmic advisor, Elizabeth Peru, talked about the choice we each have, this year, with its Eight Universal energy that is action-focused. We can act out of habit-thus invoking the Irish admonition, “Do what you’ve always done and you’ll get what you’ve always gotten.” We can, conversely, act based on our potential-and show what we can truly offer humanity.

The year began with my going back to Blue Collar roots, and pushing myself to drive through snow, to Ghost Ranch, and doing the noble work of a tradesman, step-by-step, not cutting corners and above all, not doubting my capabilities. I fashioned a heart, from soapstone, to send to a beloved friend, next month. The rest of January has been more quotidian, but the year ahead is filled with opportunities to make the choice: Habit, or potential. I have an added incentive: A relationship to foster and tend. The habitual Gary would mess things up, through self-doubt. So, I am going with potential. The good woman I met, last Fall, deserves my best.

Elizabeth says that only one other year, in recorded history, has featured Eight Universal energy at the same time as a solar maximum is taking place. That year was 1979. Remember where you were, if you were born prior to 1974, or thereabouts. What was going on in your life? I recall that 1979 was the year that I truly started to get my act together-and began to really explore the West, transcend my comfort zone and stand up for myself, when attacked by a disgruntled former colleague. From that point on, I went back and forth, several times, between habit and potential. It has, however, mainly been an upward trajectory, with the plateau decade of 2000-09 nonetheless seeing a rise to the challenges of caretaking and facing down my personal demons.

This year will not be one of habit.

The Gem of Solitude

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January 30, 2024- I came upon the heart-shaped mineral, admiring its inherent sublime beauty. Picking it up, and feeling its smoothness, just for few minutes, gave me an appreciation of the heat, the pressure and the various cracks and separations that this piece of finery endured, over millennia, to arrive here, along Highland Nature Center’s Trail #4442. I noted that it has, underneath, a perfect heart-shaped indentation in the ground.

A quiet testimony to the love of the Universe

After placing the stone carefully back over its indentation, I thought of the value of solitude. What would I do, if everyone I cared about, including the woman I love most in this world, were to disappear from this life? What would I do, if they all decided they’d had enough, and left me on my own? I would be like the rock, still occupying my space and still reflecting the strength that the Divine has imparted into me. I would be ready for whatever came next.

As long as we draw breath, there is a purpose. As long as we have form, shape, solidity, there is a future. I went there, to Highland Center’s trail to Lynx Creek, having not been on it for several years, after another event was canceled, due to a scheduling conflict. The trail showed me the seemingly endless stretch of the Bradshaw Mountains, to the south and southeast.

Bradshaw Mountains, stretching south from Lynx Lake

After a stretch, I came to Lynx Creek, frozen on its surface, about a mile from the lake that was formed when it was dammed, in 1952. Of course, being Arizona, the ice is scarcely an inch thick.

Lynx Creek, at Highland Nature Center

Coming out of my reverie, I recognized that this morning of solitude was largely due to everyone else being busy with life, as I am myself, most days. My dearest, across the ocean, was asleep-and besides, she is in the midst of a very busy week. My friends here are likewise dealing with life’s happenings. I will be back in that regimen, myself, tomorrow and for the rest of 2024’s fifth week. Today, though, it is as if I have Planet Earth to myself-looking at the stretch of the Bradshaws, this morning and at the shimmering oak tree, in my neighbour’s front yard, as I write this piece.

Here is a gratuitous reminder of that regimen, from yesterday’s trip to Phoenix: The Arizona State Capitol.

The house with the copper dome

The Wider Net Cast

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January 29, 2024- There was nothing left behind, forgotten, when I finally got underway, taking a friend to Sky Harbor Airport, this morning. Much ground was covered, in terms of what is needed in order for humanity to understand self, for its members to understand themselves-and one another, for children to be truly honoured and understood and for the global plantation mentality to be overcome, transcended. I was set straight, that in this friend’s opinion, I had some serious work to do with regard to what I was willing to accept from children. In her view, everything that a child does needs to be accepted and understood. 

I will go with the understood part, but we can’t just accept destructive behaviour, no matter who is engaging in it. Children do appreciate guidance, having limits set and gentle models provided, by the adults in their lives.

As for the hierarchic mentality-whether we call it plantation, patriarchy or Fascist, the idea that some are inherently superior to others-the Hammond Doctrine, if you will, needs dismantling. There will always be some who have strengths in certain areas and less so in others. My dearest one is skilled in finances. I am fairly competent in that area, but I don’t hold a candle to her. My son is a whiz in technology and systems security. Again, I can maintain a modicum of computer safety, but that’s as far as that ship sails. Others are primo, athletically, artistically or scientifically. I am lucky if I hit a baseball or softball to the outfield, throw a football 30 yards or swim one lap, the length of an Olympic-sized pool-and then with my head underwater. I made a stone carving, a few weeks ago and fashioned it into a rough necklace-but it doesn’t look half bad. Just don’t ask me to draw a human or animal, freehand. At age 73, I can balance a chemical equation and probably figure out simple physics problems, but that’s the extent of it. As brother put it, my strength is in my heart. The point of all this is, each of us has strengths and flaws. So, none can inherently just assume the mantle of authority in all things. Hence, there ought be no hierarchy. It’s the collective, the sharing, that proffers strength.

I had the pleasure of seeing that my site has drawn a fair number of visitors from a nation, other than the United States, that is dear to my heart. A wider net was cast, and seems to be attracting those whose views I also value.

Taking Ownership

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January 25, 2024- Child # 1 kept denying having broken a health-related rule, even though ten of his classmates testified that he had done so, and the evidence was there, on his desk. He was held to account for the violation. Had he not been, who knows how many copy cats would have followed suit?

I have said it before: I was the world’s worst miscreant, when it came to covering up misdeeds, from childhood to the end of my erring days. I was actually relieved, in later years, when called to account for bad choices. It meant, usually, a chance to start afresh and act more in tune with Divine teachings.

We’ve discussed owning one’s bad choices before, on this site. Families, communities and countries have never been known to thrive, when a key member of the grouping goes from one denial to another. Yet, some believe the denier, largely because they see so many dodging responsibility for their actions. So, “why not give ________the benefit of the doubt?” Well, there is “Two wrongs don’t make a right.” There is also the fact that the individual’s spiritual state does not improve, over time, with the accumulation of “duck, dodge and hide”.

What I’ve found is that I have gotten umpteen chances to overcome a character defect-until the time comes that the baggage is actually cast overboard.