Seventy-three

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November 28, 2023, Grapevine- So it has come to another re-set, another “trip around the Sun” completed. All that happened during the past year has only made me stronger, and no less committed to what a friend in Manila told me, during my visit there, and my most trusted family members reiterated today: My mission is to love those around me and help them live better lives.

There was another friend, I met in Manila, who would fit very nicely at my side, but I am not quite sure how well I would figure in her life. So, my path goes on, and as the cliche states-“If you love something (someone), let it (her) go. If it (she) returns, so much the better. If not, it (she) was never meant to be yours in the first place.” That’s happened a few other times, over the past twelve, and the ladies are still my friends.

Between now and November, 2024, there are six journeys, three short and three long. Next month, and again in January, take me to northern New Mexico. The first is customary-a Santa Fe and Taos-centered post-Christmas tradition, with a possible errand of mercy. The second will find me at Ghost Ranch, for a week of service.

February will take me to San Diego and, briefly, to Orange County-another emerging tradition. Ocean Beach, especially Samesun Hostel, is practically Home Base #3. I have to remind myself that I am NOT staff, and can be only just so much at home, particularly around some of the more officious staff people. Still, it’s a marvelous place to spend a day or two.

May, and the first week of June, will be my Back East time-with a return to Cape Breton Island and Newfoundland. It will also be post-Covid catch-up time, with a few friends in Indiana, as well as family visits to Maine, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania.

Mid-July to the first week of August will see two visits to Carson City, as bookends to another Vancouver Island trip, and long-delayed visits to BC’s Sunshine Coast-and Four Worlds International Institute.

That brings me to Journey # 6, which will find me in a part of the world I’ve not been in before. Details will come, as the time for the visit gets closer. It will take in the latter part of September, until November 1. Suffice it to say that I have promised friends in that area, that I will visit them, for several years-and intend to make good on this, God willing.

Here in Arizona, there will surely be many opportunities for continued service-and visits to southern Arizona, in late January and to both the South Rim and Jacob Lake (weather-permitting) in mid-March. Early July, after the Fourth, will be time on Hopi, just before I head up to Carson City.

Of course, next Thanksgiving, which coincides with my birthday, will be right here in Home Base #2. It will be another milestone, well worth celebrating.

Actual Vacation, Day 7

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November 26, 2023, Grapevine- “1845 was the year that the Union joined Texas”, the young waiter intoned, tongue firmly in cheek. With that, my advance birthday dinner began, with what turned out to be endless lemonade (from Rio Grande Valley lemons), followed by Fort Worth filet mignon and oven baked Brussels sprouts, poblano meatballs and, for Son, a Game Combo of venison and quail drums (breasts and a leg). We can safely say that the plates, while not Texas-sized, were more than ample. The desserts were Texas-sized, and we’ll leave it at “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire! I did have a sparkling candle in my pumpkin crispy, as word got out that my birthday is forthcoming. 1845: Taste Texas is top of the line, in fare and in style-no corners cut. It was a meal for the ages.

Before that, though, we took in the wild side of Dallas, and I don’t mean riding a mechanical bull. Cedar Ridge Preserve sits on the south side of Big D, and is intended to offer safe space for butterflies, birds large and small, and the small carnivores that keep other species in check. As the name implies, cedars are the dominant trees. There are a few ponds, here and there, but what sets this stretch of prairie apart from elsewhere in DFW Metro is the ups and downs offered by the 10-mile trail system. This park could be at home in Prescott. Needless to say, it was a good workout.

My little family on the move, Cedar Ridge Preserve
One of four stream crossings along the trail
Aram and Yunhee headed upstairs.

It was a fine cap to the Thanksgiving weekend, and a prelude to the end of my 73rd trip around the Sun-which comes on Tuesday. I also fly back to AZ on Tuesday evening, so this dinner fell nicely into place.

Now it’s time to look back at June, July and August. As with other months, people left. Some had checkered public records-Pat Robertson and James Watt left us, a day apart. Ted Kaszynski had a scary public record, finally taking his own life, in early June. Leslie Van Houten didn’t take her own life, but certainly took those of others, so many years ago. Cormac McCarthy wrote, tellingly, of other people’s checkered lives. Daniel Ellsberg warned us of same. Sinead O’Connor hollered about injustice, and sounded melodious. Dame Glenda Jackson astonished us, on stage and Paul Reubens made us chuckle, with his puckish wit. Robbie Robertson made us think, while honouring his First Nations family. Lahaina, Hawaii practically perished as a community, in a freakish wildfire.

Closer to my circle, the queenly countenance of Wilma Ellis left us Baha’is behind, for the spirit realm. Childhood friends Rodney Lavoie and Robert Ritchie passed their batons to their beloved children. A cousin, David Wonoski, passed suddenly and my last living uncle-by-marriage, Dave Dufour, saw the end of a long, varied and colourful life. JR Cline, with whom I visited twice on cross-country journeys, saw his long and valiant fight come to an end.

My path went to three camps, all carefully managed to the best of my ability. WiFi did not fade out this time, thanks to my iPhone. Other local homages were to a good friend who turned 60; to the Granite Mountain Hotshots, who perished ten years ago, at Yarnell Hill; and to the summer solstice, on, where better, Solstice Mesa, in north Prescott. I sat with a dog, later with cats, and tended to people’s needs at Hope Fest, which came early this year.

Travels were both long and short: A hike in honour of the departed Hotshots, at the State Park established in their names, preceded the 10th Commemoration, in downtown Prescott. A return to Bell Rock, near Sedona, brought variations in light into focus. A Grand Canyon visit, to the west side of South Rim, had to be cut short, when a deluge closed the main road heading south. I made a detour, through the Navajo Nation and Flagstaff, as I had an appointment in Prescott, the next day. July 17-29 took me through the Mojave Desert, Central Valley, Oregon and Washington, to British Columbia. There were visits with Baha’i friends in Ashland, OR, Victoria, BC-and, sweetest of all, a performance in “The Wizard of Oz”, by a girl I look upon as a grandniece, in Carson City. In each case, my visit seemed to have an outsized effect on the host’s sense of well-being. That’s actually the hope, wherever I go. New friends were also made in Ludlow, CA; Medford and Salem, OR; Centralia and Chehalis, WA.Richmond and Nanaimo, BC. That’s also the idea. Zipping down to a dental appointment, on two hours’ notice and zipping back up to get my trusty vehicle serviced, after a long trip-that’s also the idea.

As August ended, I headed out to a Baha’i school, the House of Worship in Wilmette, and mother’s milestone celebration. Many are those who fill my heart; she is first among them. The people I specifically visited, these three months, are also in that category.

Actual Vacation, Day Two

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November 21, 2023, Grapevine- There is a small gym here, at Terrawood. It has about half of the Full Body exercise machines that we have at Planet Fitness, back at Home Base 1. So, I got in some elliptical work, leg stretches and curls, chest presses and shoulder presses-as well as getting the steps in, right after a hearty meal of bulgogi with gochu-jong (hot pepper paste), over rice. Snacks and meals are faithfully followed by exercise here. There is even a nieghbour who works her treadmill on the front porch.

I am definitely happy that there is more emphasis on both eating healthily and exercising regularly, in this suburban Dallas community. Even shopping does not have to be a sedentary affair: Grapevine Mills is right across the street from four of the apartment complexes that line the boulevard.

There is no set agenda this week, so naturally, I used some time to reserve rooms and ferry space, for next May’s Atlantic Canada visit. This is more because the spaces fill up fast, for places like St. Pierre & Miquelon and Twillingate. At any rate, those ships will sail, with me on board. (The main event, a milestone for the Baha’i community of Eskisoni, on Unamaki/Cape Breton, is the post around which all these other plans revolve.)

This ship is floating nicely, also with me on board. “John Adams”, courtesy of the late David McCullough, is here at my side. My little family is forging ahead, with their respective goals, the work week being suitably short, before America’s de facto second National Day. The main thing, for me, is that everyone close to me has their personal agency intact. That is what will generate a feeling of inner peace, and eventually an atmosphere of understanding and good will shall return.

As we prepare for whatever form people choose to express gratitude, I want to express my appreciation for the First Nations people, like the Osage, who are still here-despite all attempts to shove them aside, as is depicted in “Killers of the Flower Moon”. Manipulators and thieves are ever with us, and will ever claw their way to the top, unless we learn to discern-and make it an integral part of who we are, as individuals and as communities.

The Sandbox

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November 18, 2023- So often, the most difficult person is who needs love the most.

When I was a child, my siblings and I had a fine sandbox, with plenty of quality, durable playthings. We shared it with everyone in the neighbourhood. No one was excluded. I knew what it felt like to be shoved to the sidelines, and left out. I was determined to not be that kind of person, in my own dealings with others.

Today,a small team of us went about a city that is 2 1/2 hours west of here, and installed smoke detectors in homes of those who requested them. Fifteen households were visited; fourteen of those who requested the implements were grateful. One household was not-for reasons that are best left unsaid. Chances are, the smoke detectors will end up save the life of our detractor. The most difficult person needs love the most.

This evening, I pulled myself together and went to the concert of a dear friend, at a favourite venue. Someone I know, and fairly trust, as an acquaintance, came in and asked to sit at my table. I was glad to see this person, who is fairly popular and influential in town. After a time, I started to feel discomfort, almost as if I didn’t belong in the situation. I focused on my friends’ music and danced about a bit. The most difficult person needs love the most-but in this case, I am not at all certain that my support and caring would be either welcome or accepted. By the end of the evening, and for the first time since I moved to Prescott, in fact, I feel like my status in the community is very much in jeopardy-and I will have to step back for a while. Red Cross, the Farmers Market (to some extent) and Slow Food are safe spaces-but the places I have visited and treasured, like the venue where my friends performed tonight, don’t feel so safe right now.

The most difficult people need love the most, but they can do a lot of damage along the way-especially when they wield a lot of influence. I can only hang on, the best I can.

Hours of Power

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November 11, 2023- Settling in, to enjoy ninety minutes of pulsating, original rock songs, by one of Prescott’s most pulsating, original bands-The CheekTones, I was pleasantly surprised when two young ladies I had not seen before sat themselves at the table, joined, for good measure,a few minutes later by two of their male classmates, then by a shyer, more reticent girl.

The first two asked me general questions about my day, and how I enjoyed The Raven-and the CheekTones. It turned out they were mostly there to support one of the boys who was playing a song with Don Cheek and his band. The kid can play! His parents were there, for the moment-as were these classmates. The girls spoke a bit about their after school jobs-shopping cart jockey, beverage pourer at a local burger joint and juice bar attendant. The boys had nothing to say. Then we all turned our full attention to the band.

Don has had a band presence here, at least since I moved up from Phoenix, in 2011. He has been mentoring young musicians for probably twice that long. He inspired, and supports, another local band, Scandalous Hands, who appear regularly at The Raven, as well. The two bands do 95% of their performances in Prescott clubs and outdoor venues-going, every so often, to Sedona or to Parker, on the Colorado River. Such energy conservation has its benefits-and is rather common, to local bands. It’s a huge reason why their performances here tend towards the intense, the explosive and are so inspirational to young artists.

The kids excused themselves, after forty minutes or so, to go do teen-specific activities. They popped back in one more time, towards the end of the concert, just so I wouldn’t think it was because of me that they left the first time. Nah-I was there once, long ago. It was good they stopped back in, though. I had the young guitarist’s finger warmers on the table and would not have been able to return them, save through Don-who has enough to concern himself.

There was a lot of power in the air today. It is categorized, by astrologers and cosmic advisers, as an Eleven Master Day-meaning that its digits, 1+1+1+1+2+2+3, add up to eleven. A pair of ones, written side by side, are also seen by the mystics as being pillars of both male and female energy.

Today was Veterans Day, and there was a long parade, part of which I watched, before heading to Farmers Market, to tend to the only service day I could offer there, this month. In early evening, I sat in on a Healing Devotional, hosted by someone who was attacked last month. She is on the mend, though, and is still working with police in her community, to try and locate her assailant, before another attack happens.

Each of these events had a power of its own, as did the initial responses to my joining subgroups of nextdoor.com. It has never been easy for me to accept compliments and positive views from others, but that is changing-at long last. It does not have to conflict with personal modesty-and is good for building the energy flow that I need, in order to accomplish what lies ahead, both here and further afield. One friend says my travel is foolish, but deep down inside, I think she is only masking her own wish for a more expansive life, something that those who controlled her life for so long would never allow.

Each of us can move ahead, and as long as we support one another, in our struggles with our own egos and with those who would try to stifle us, for their own ends.

Different, but Not Blind

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November 10, 2023- An old friend, who I hadn’t seen for a while, regarded me with some concern: She remembered me as a chunky, 186-pounder. I am now 30 lbs lighter, which I fear may have triggered memories of her late husband, in his last stages of life-and the anniversary of his departure is two weeks after Thanksgiving. My weight reduction, which has about six more pounds to shed, is intentional, and the recent bout with the flu aside, there is no medical evidence of any carcinogenic or pathological roots to the ongoing loss. I am just eating carefully and getting sufficient exercise and rest.

Still and all, my friend’s sensitivity, and the memory of her dear husband, need to be honoured. I will be stopping by her establishment a fair number of times, over the next several months-especially in December-mainly to listen. Tonight, the place was very busy, and our conversation was brief.

She had a question or two about my Philippine visit-her main interest being the young man I have been sponsoring-and the pair of basketball shoes that he was able to select for himself. She is not one who thinks much of travel for its own sake-a good many self-employed people have the same take, for obvious reasons. Making friends and building networks, which are also my own on-the-road focus, make sense to her.

Earlier today, Hiking Buddy and I took in Willow Lake, a smaller reservoir to the northwest of Watson Lake. It is separated from its larger mate, by the Granite Dells-whose western edge is also called Willow Dells. We focused on the west and south sides of the lake shore. HB’s interest in my trip was mainly in the places I visited with friends, the quality of my photos and what, if any, was the effect on my health. (Truth be known, it was coming back to an unheated house that led to last Friday’s flu crash. I am just glad it didn’t hit the contagious phase until well after my Red Cross activity on Friday morning, and that I had until Tuesday to recover).

Cottonwoods and bog grass, in autumn transition.
Great Blue Heron, in repose.

Between this hike and my visit to the small cafe, there was the small matter of a haircut. So, back to Fantastic Sam’s it was, and in a half-hour or so, I no longer looked like a charging barbarian. My new stylist had questions of her own about Manila. She has a great yearning to get out and see things-and is mostly wanting to learn from other cultures. I pointed out that most people have no issue with Americans, as individuals. It is always wise to be aware of one’s surroundings and to maintain boundaries-but that it true right here, also.

In looking back on the three ladies’ perspectives, I am reminded of the old fable about the five men and the elephant. Everyone, whether blind or sighted, has interests that differ from others. This was underscored by my filling out a profile, this morning, for Next Door.com Interest groups abound, under that umbrella group-so it will be a fascinating exercise in networking.

Correcting Missteps and Dodging Darkness

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November 8, 2023- I was told, flat-out, a few times yesterday, that if I knew what was good for me, I would follow the instructions about my own life that the stern-faced woman was randomly tossing out. Hmmmm- Where have I heard this before? What happened when I stuck to my own path? What further transpired, when I cut off contact with the previous angry personage? In each case, there was suffering- a slight injury, a job loss and a car accident, all of which happened to take place in the presence of a short, stern-faced woman, similar to the one who was warning me to toe the line, this time.

There is much that we don’t know about energy fields, and while I hardly believe that shape-shifting is actually a thing, it does seem strange that misfortunes in my life always are witnessed by a short, stout, angry middle-aged woman of narcissistic temperament. Nothing awful happened to me on the way home, yesterday, and while I made a foolish decision to unnecessarily yield at the end of an off-ramp, this morning, there was no consequence, other than a blared horn. I had, though, written down the wrong school at which to report.

Twenty minutes later, I was at the correct school, with the assigned students-enjoying a Veterans Day tribute. We went on to make progress on the kids’ science projects and math assignment. There have been, so far, no “dire consequences” for my not following “instructions”.

What to get from yesterday’s exchange? As the days, months and years roll on, what I need for my own well-being is to take more time to do things even more carefully, write appointments down in more than one place and give myself more time to get places, and more time in between events and activities. The angry narcissist who wants to save me from God knows what, will just need to find a different focus for her energies.

Achers Away

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November 4, 2023- At first, my thought was “At long last, COVID”. Nope-the aches and flash fever were too familiar. It was that change of season flu, one more time. Someone, somewhere will shake their head and say, “There IS a flu shot, ya know”. Yes, there is-for the dominant strain(s) of influenza that the CDC has projected will be in the elements, for this particular season. It’s a crap shoot, and one that shortened the life of my father’s older brother, by maybe five years. The wrong strain of vaccine put Uncle George on oxygen and sidelined a vibrant, energetic soul. Science is most often inexact.

I have been selective about getting vaccinated, over the decades. COVID-19 was too vicious and too novel, so two injections went in my left arm, and I have not felt any change in my functioning or my behaviour, from either one. Tetanus and tuberculosis are two on which I stay current. The rest are, in my case, pretty much cash cows for Big Pharma, though I do recognize that others may need them. Being nearly 73, I don’t, as long as I keep up the daily doses of Lifelong Vitality supplements and maintain an active lifestyle.

That brings me to the Achilles heal: Keeping too tight a schedule. It caused headaches twice, on my recent trip to the Philippines. Having it to do over again, either there or on any long journey, I would allow more time, if taking a bus or train and would not schedule a flight the day after a long bus trip. Too many times, buses are slowed down by other traffic or by large numbers of passengers showing up, in a country town.

The second thing is: I will politely decline an invitation here at Home Base, the day after landing in Los Angeles or San Francisco. That is an element of people pleasing, which only ends up disappointing still other people-because I got sick from running on empty. We know to go slow, on the other end, and don’t overbook after landing in the foreign destination, but falling for the “friends and family are so excited to see you back” (mostly in my head), does nothing for either of us.

There are those who refer to every trip out of town as “vacation”, even if it happens once a month. They book no appointments, the day before leaving or the day after returning, even if it’s a road trip. Maybe they’re on to something.

Expanding Home, Day 17: Day of Relative Rest

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October 26, 2023, Manila- I looked out the window of my 10th floor room, early this morning, and saw this:

Seen on top of a high rise condominium, Manila

What better way is there to start the day?

This was to be a day for security duty, so we will not be out and about much. We sat in the Center and studied a bit, but otherwise were still with our own thoughts, and watchful. It is a fairly quiet neighbourhood, by Filipino standards. That means that the motorcycles and tuk tuks still go back and forth, and toot for the fight of way, and people are constantly back and forth, on foot-but there is no drama and few people coming to the door, to ask for food or money.

I got fresh insight into my long-range guidance and the resultant plans, from now until 2030, with the primary notion that family needs trump even the most worthy of Baha’i-based travel or Home Base activities. That ought to be true, for everyone, everywhere, but this is not a perfect world. The news came, this morning, on a Baha’i Zoom call, that a gunman-apparently mentally ill, had killed 18 and wounded 13, in an enraged attack on bowling alley and bar, in the small city of Lewiston, Maine.

I have been through Lewiston, and neighbouring Auburn, several times, but have not stopped there for any length of time. Nonetheless, my heart melts at the horror the people there must be feeling. All of this is due, essentially, to the view that the mentally ill deserve to be able to defend themselves, under the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution. I beg to differ-in that a schizophrenic’s or manic depressive’s idea of self-defense is often based on delusional thinking. The attacker in today’s shootings told his family, not too long ago, that he was hearing voices in his head. In my family, the minute such a statement was made, there would be securing of weapons-not just firearms, but knives, nunchucks/stars,even 2 x 4s. The afflicted one would be kept as safe as possible, but not on his/her own. Those who insist otherwise, in the name of a conservative interpretation of freedom, are themselves engaged in delusional thinking.

There is no rest, in Lewiston, in Gaza, in southern Israel, in Darfur, or in any of two dozen other places where violence and rage are the norm. So, here we rest, and count our blessings.

Expanding Home, Day 13: Two Family Circles

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October 22, 2023, Paranaque- Traffic in Manila, on Sunday, is about what one would expect: Vehicles can actually move at more than 23 kmh. I got to the Baha’i National Center, in the Santa Ana section of Manila, in less than an hour. I was the first visitor to arrive, and was again warmly greeted by the residents. After a fashion, nearly fifteen other people showed for the devotional, we shared prayers, news from around the Philippines and refreshments. A feisty child alternated between boisterousness and reverence. Several of the Regional Council members were in and out of their own meeting, to dovetail with participating in the devotional.

Gathering at Baha’i National Center of the Philippines, Santa Ana, Manila

It all felt like a gathering at Home Base. It felt like home, and so it will be for the week ahead, especially once I transfer to University College Residences, the redundantly-named, but compact and ecologically-state of the art accommodations, a stone’s-throw from the Center. The ladies who live at the Center, serving as hosts and caretakers, are like younger sisters. The young man who is serving in the Philippine Navy is a mirror of my Navy-veteran son. The parents of the rambunctious little boy could be one of my nephews and nieces-in-law, whose son has gone from unruliness to morphing into a sensitive little man, compassionate about animal welfare and the well-being of his grandfather. The universality of the Baha’i Faith is always borne out by its members, as ordinary, and as flawed, as we sometimes are. It is borne out, as well, by our adherence to the principle: The Oneness of Mankind.

There is something of that, too, in how I have come to see the little community of Airplane Village, the collection of shops, restaurants, small hotels and a bar, that sit opposite the huge operation that is Terminal One, the primary International Terminal of Ninoy Aquino International Airport. The terminal itself has the feel of a family operation. In going back and forth between hotel and the terminal’s ATM (the Philippines is largely, mostly, a cash economy) I have come to be a familiar face to the gate guards and security people-in a good way. They have shown me the shortcuts to and from AV, and are not concerned about checking my passport each and every time I enter the facility.

Going back and forth between Airplane Village and Santa Ana’s Barangay 176, the past few days, is also a mirror of my larger life-somehow managing to fit in at Home Base, with my biological family and with people who make up extended family-across North America and now, in a real sense, across the ocean.

The Earth itself is becoming one big home.