Category Archives: Inner Struggles

The Middle Matters

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

July 18, 2023, Sacramento- The day spent getting here had a potpourri of interesting stops, at least through the morning.

Ludlow– Holly B. served up a nice plate of scrambled eggs, Polish sausage, home fries and an English muffin, with a caveat: The eggs-and much chicken meat, no longer taste like much, when they come from a large factory farm. She has her own chickens at the small desert farm that she shares with her husband. They roam at will-as any chickens that taste good, and produce delicious eggs, are wont to do.

The others workers at Ludlow Cafe concurred. They, too, are farm folk. We spoke of health issues and I heard them out, about the health scares that have recently troubled their revered chef and their own family members. There is an alkaline taste in the local tap water, likely adding to those issues. Ludlow is at the eastern edge of California’s midsection-which starts at Calexico, on the southern border and zips on through, past Barstow, Bakersfield, Fresno and the ‘M’ cities- Madera, Merced and Modesto, to this bustling capital city, and on up to Redding and Chico, thence to the Oregon line.

Barstow- I decided that the triple digit heat was not going to factor, in making a drive through this often overlooked, but essential, part of the Golden State. In Barstow, where I stopped after checking out of Ludlow Motel, there is a Harvey House, which serves as the city’s Amtrak Station. A Harvey House, of which there are still a few in the West, was a hotel built by Fred Harvey, in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. Barstow was seen as a vital link between Los Angeles and the great National Parks of central California-as well as with Death Valley, Joshua Tree and the Grand Canyon.

Today, the town soldiers on and keeps this superb building in mint condition. The two ballrooms can be rented for events, and look as if they are waiting for those who can still “trip the light fantastic”.

Railroad Museum, Barstow- at the Harvey House complex.
Harvey House,Barstow
East Ballroom, Harvey House, Barstow
Upstairs, there is a small NASA Museum, focusing on the Sun and planets of “our” Solar System. This montage of Neptune includes a drawing of the outermost planet, (it is actually farther from the Sun than is Pluto), by a young visitor named Paul. I like how he depicted Neptune’s North Pole. Barstow, and the western Mojave, have no shortage of creative talent.

Boron- My last photo-oriented stop of the day was the resurgent home of Twenty Mule Team Borax. I recall, in middle school, that a sometime bully chortled, about yours truly, “He is a low-grade moron, who thinks he lives on boron.” No one laughed at his quip, and I pondered how, besides the two rhyming words, he ever saw himself as clever. We became friends as older teens, though, and he went on to live an exemplary life, before dying just prior to the COVID outbreak. So, I stopped here and took shots of the two active borax mines. Here, for Sean-and in honour of Mr. Reagan, when he hosted “Death Valley Days”, are those sites, from a distance.

West side mine, Boron
East side mine, Boron

Roadside observations- There was much that was unphotographed, but registered in my mind’s camera: The lava beds outside Newberry Springs, extending almost to Daggett, were blocked off by road construction at Newberry. Joshua Trees, the standout feature of the Mojave Desert, are plentiful in some areas and scarce in others. There is a huge stand of them, just north of the City of Mojave, west of Bakersfield. The latter-mentioned city pays proper homage to two of its great musical talents: Buck Owens and Merle Haggard, with streets named for both gentlemen and centers that showcase their respective life’s work. Fresno, and the three ‘Ms’, focus a fair amount of their agricultural wealth on education. Fresno is as much worthy of mention for its health care system, as for its farming.

A horrid accident, on the opposite side of road from us, stopped south bound traffic from the north side of Turlock, clear to the south end of Modesto. Our side of Highway 99 experienced a slowing, but mostly because of the need to position emergency vehicles opposite the crash site. Two vehicles were mangled, one of them lying upside down in the middle of the road.

I got to HI Sacramento around 6 p.m. and after struggling to get the parking lot gate open, due to solar flares interfering with the radio frequency of the gate’s system, enjoyed a lovely carnitas and black bean salad at La Cosecha, three blocks south of the hostel.

No assessment of life anywhere can fail to include its midsection-and California’s Central Valley is second to none.

Leslie Van Houten

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 12, 2023- She was, in her youth, the sort of girl with whom I might have fallen madly in love . That long brown hair, those soulful eyes, and that longing for someone, anyone, who would see her as more than that beautiful outward appearance, made her ‘ripe for rescue’, my mates would’ve said. That was my teenage self’s ideal-a girl who needed me.

That night, though, when her pseudo-rescuer, one Tex Watson, told her to “do something” to their captive, Rosemary LaBianca, an innocent small businesswoman, in the wrong place at the wrong time-on that hot August night, she gave up that humanity, that beauty became a facade-as Leslie the Lost stabbed the frantic woman, who had just become a widow, at the hands of another Manson girl.

That night, I was a continent away, in the initial stages of becoming a man-a trainee in Echo Company, 3rd Battalion, 1st Brigade-at Fort Jackson, SC. A few of my fellows spoke of hearing something about a crazy-eyed “lunatic”, named Charles Manson, who had gone on a killing spree-and that maybe he had some “hot chicks” doing his dirty work. No one was certain, though, and the talk dried up-to turn, a few days later, to an event we were all missing: The Woodstock Festival, ten hours away, in the Hudson Valley of New York. It was around then that the Drill Instructors began bantering among themselves about what they would do, if they had five minutes alone with Manson-and what they would like to do to some of those girls. Of course, they also said, Woodstock, and its women, were a whole lot closer.

Then we got back to the business of training, qualifying with our rifles and bayonets, passing our Physical Fitness tests and General Knowledge exams, marching on the parade ground-and going on with our Advanced Individual Training.

I mostly forgot about Manson, and his dastardly crew-though every so often, I would be reminded of those horrible acts of savagery-and just how shallow a person’s physical appearance can render her or him, by movies like “Helter Skelter”, and, much later, “Once Upon A Time in Hollywood”. Manson got what he deserved. Leslie Van Houten is now out of one prison, but will never get of the other. The prison of public opinion will never see the long-gone pretty teenager. It will forever see the drug-crazed monster, stabbing away at someone presented to her as “the enemy”. The most charitable among us will see an aging lost soul, who has to learn fifty years’ worth of life skills-from driving a car to installing apps on a cellular phone-and good luck in finding a job, college degrees aside. The most astute among young people will see exactly what not to become. I see an indictment of self-centered, abdicating parents, who failed their daughter, terribly.

There, but for a loving family and a decent set of opportunities, might have gone I.

Threads

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

July 10, 2023- A few days ago, the social media site, Threads, was established as an alternative to other sites that have grown increasingly capricious in their pronouncements on the state of society. I have left one such site and joined Threads, in order to remain in the company of truth-seeking and open-minded people.

Today was the 173rd anniversary of the execution of al-Bab (The Gate), Who was the Herald of Baha’u’llah’s coming, and thus a monumental figure, and a Messenger of God, in His own right, to us Baha’is. We seek the truth in all matters, and are asked to do so independently. Many times, that goes up against orthodoxy-both of the Right and the Left. Al-Bab’s, and Baha’u’llah’s, Mission transcends the limited views of the political classes, though, and is concerned with establishing the oneness of mankind.

Many of us gathered in observances around the world, at Noon-the hour when al-Bab was executed by firing squad, all those years ago-for challenging the power of the orthodox. There, in July, 1850, was a mirror of the Crucifixion of Jesus the Christ, itself a reflection of the murder of Krishna-and so it has been, from time immemorial. The Messenger of the Divine challenges shopworn Orthodoxy, is pursued and punished by that Orthodoxy’s beneficiaries, and eventually the Messenger’s Teachings are adopted by the masses of humanity.

Progress in the human world always takes time. Everything from teaching a child the essentials of life to establishing friendships, is done one thread at a time. It’s not been easy for this servant of the Creator and many times, it has felt like the threads have been snipped. I know I am not alone-and one of the two new friends I made today, said as much, about her own experiences. Things are getting better, though, and strength comes from endurance, both for individuals and for communities.

All the Messengers of the Divine tell us that this is so, and that it will ever be part of a physical life, until such time as we are united as a Human Race. That day is coming. The threads are getting stronger.

Anonymity, Pride and Self- Preservation

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

July 6, 2023- Brandi waxed effusive, about her blood connections with various First Nations communities-Cherokee, Ojibway, Dineh,Mayan- as well as African-Americans. As we each looked at a chart, showing the ties between various groups, in the Museum of Indigenous Peoples, a block or two from Home Base, talk turned to crafts, such as Navajo rugs and Apache baskets. It turns out she had recently visited Hubbell Trading Post, a Dineh-run National Historic Site in Ganado, north of the Painted Desert. One of the main features of Hubbell is the demonstration spinning, carding and weaving of the great rugs. This sparked her interest in coming over from the Verde Valley with her children, who were enthused about using a mano and metate to grind blue corn and to check out the bones of a smilodon and Columbian mammoth-as well as read about the various Hopi and Zuni kachina dolls.

This fifteen-minute exchange, on my second visit to MIP, showed how relatively easy it is to break through the much-vaunted wall of anonymity, a barrier that is physically reinforced by garage door openers-when the garage is attached to the house, by excessive pride (not the kind that LGBTQ people and before them, Jesse Jackson, Sr., talk about-but the kind that comes before the fall) and by the fear-based focus on self-preservation, that sees monsters under every bed, or in every closet.

It has taken a while, but I am not overly concerned with bogeymen-not with people from other countries taking away my job; not with homeless people walking into my apartment and taking up residence; not with the market whittling away at my savings-and not with fascists forcing one ideology or another on me and mine. Each of those groups is operating, as it were, out of self-preservation, also based on fear. Each wants to be seen, heard, believed and treated with dignity. The rub comes when they are asked to treat everyone else in like manner.

I made a commitment, long ago, to not base friendships on ideology, physical traits, class, faith (or lack thereof)-but on character. There was a time when my own mannerisms were rough and attention to the needs of others was buried under some thick fog. It’s taken time, yet here I am, concerned with well-being of others-not as the abstract concept of my youth, but as a moment to moment, day-to-day modus vivendi.

May this state of mind and heart long continue.

The Sticking Points

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 5, 2023- I woke at the usual time today, and after pondering whether to head up to the Grand Canyon’s South Rim, for a walk towards Hermit’s Rest-on the west end of the rim, decided to stay put. There were a few uncertainties, with regard to cherished friends and a needy family. No news is okay news, with regard to said friends, and clarification about the family’s needs came, this evening, for settlement tomorrow. The other good thing is that my bear drum has been repaired and is back with me.

A question has arisen, as to why people seem so widely uncaring. I have to note two things:

1. Humanity, and the planet, are in a state of transition. It is pretty much established that a physical being does not take well to change. Bears hate being woken during hibernation; birds dive bomb anyone who disturbs their nest; humans grouse and complain, or worse, when a sudden, inexplicable change takes place. We often lash out at the messenger- nobody around here much likes the National Weather Service telling us that there will be no monsoon until August, if then, and don’t get retirees around here started on the Federal Reserve Board- “Stealing our money!”, is a not uncommon, if oversimplified, refrain.

2. This sort of off-track thinking, and the uncaring attitude that is noticed by people around me, stem more often than not, from either shallow spirituality, or a dearth thereof . Faith, of course, does not prevent challenges and setbacks from coming along, but it does put things into clearer perspective, and, at least for me, makes things easier to bear. If that annoys you, sorry-but not sorry. I am hard-wired to bull my way through things, anymore-having found that the victim mentality into which I was drawn, in the 2000s, and a few times since, resolved nothing and put me in with some nefarious company. I give credit for transformation largely to those I feel are my spirit guides, a concept in which not everyone believes, but here we are.

The difficulties we, and the planet, are facing largely stem from a wide-scale turning away from spirituality-which may not be true of all the individuals who cry “Foul!”, but which has been, and is, occurring for quite some time now, on a fairly grand scale.

I daresay this befogged life is not that for which we are destined. Only turning to the Divine, in what ever way one perceives It, and by banding together to face difficulties,can we hope to overcome any of the challenges that are thrown at us.

Heroes

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

July 3, 2023- He was arguably one of the finest chefs I ever knew, although my own knowledge of him was fleeting. His wife of forty years was not far behind, in the culinary field. They were, aside from their mastery of the kitchen, a handsome couple, as far back as I can remember. They were both athletic, and highly personable. Rod would tease the heck out of a number of people, including yours truly-but I never got the sense he was putting us down. He and Kathy were never elitists. Rodney P. Lavoie, Senior was a coach, a craftsman and a master of so much that he took on. He was just one of those people whom it was not necessary to know well, in order to admire. It was a shock to learn of his passing, early last week. He was a genuine hero to many young people, in and around the town of my youth.

I’ve had occasion to ponder who the heroic figures in my life have been. What determines that status? It’s not age. I have seen heroic acts by people as young as six. It’s not gender. Many of my heroes, even role models in certain respects, have been women and girls. It’s not familial. Though my parents and relatives are high on the list, there are many, even sometime adversaries, who are there as well. I don’t even have to know them personally. Public figures, and occasional strangers, who don’t shy from tending to the well-being of those around them,

Two men in a nearby community took four relative strangers into their homes, despite their both being fairly ill. One of them has had cancer turn for the worse, and reluctantly asked his boarder to move on, as room had to be made for a live-in caretaker. Another kind soul quickly stepped up and provided living space for the young man. These acts of loving kindness are also the stuff of heroism.

As a community, we have taken time to honour the brave nineteen men who died on Yarnell Hill, ten years ago. Over a dozen First Responders have died in the line of duty, since that harrowing day. That they exhibited heroism and sacrifice goes without saying. The most heartening aspect of this is that their children, and others who learn of them, are drawing the right lessons. Herosim will continue.

David Bowie’s depiction of two brave souls standing by the Berlin Wall, in the dark days of Soviet rule, says it all.

Intensity

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 24, 2023- The day started in earnest, right around 8 a.m., with a quick visit to Farmer’s Market-stocking up on microgreens for the week and getting two bulbs of garlic and some flowers for a friend’s birthday dinner, later in the day. Running out of cash and tokens, I gave one bulb back to the farmer, then went back to HB, catching a half hour or so of the Celebration of Unity Zoom call.

Next, it was off to a Red Cross Blood Drive, where my role was to staff the registration table-checking people in and making sure they had completed all preliminaries, prior to their donation. This was a fairly busy five hours, and I felt successful and bushed at the end.

After changing clothes and leaving my Red Cross “uniform” at the apartment, it was off to a Farmer’s Market volunteer appreciation gathering, at a salubrious Willow Lake ramada. I was still a bit tired, heading up there, and briefly inconvenienced a tow truck driver, at an intersection. He got in his protest, and that was all. I do my level best, most of the time, on the road, but never will claim perfection. The gathering was exactly what I needed, after an intense work shift, and the company of young mothers and children afforded a unique and most essential take on our collective life.

Finally, after a run to Costco, to replenish the supply of flavoured water for upcoming gatherings of children and adolescents, it was time for the aforementioned birthday party. Four of us enjoyed fresh salad, vegan chili and fresh cherries, covering a wide range of topics in conversation. Wild animals in our midst, the right and responsibility of adults to conduct their own affairs and associating with people with whom we disagree were all covered amiably.

After the intensity of the day, I gladly relaxed at HB, viewing a light episode of a streamed program, then turned out the lights. Tomorrow could be just as intense, if I let it be. I think, though, that won’t be how it turns out.

,

“What Would They Want For You Now?”

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 23, 2023- A group of about two dozen young men walked into a Los Angeles session that offered poetry and meditation, to address social dysfunction. One by one, the men spoke to the three “experts”, saying that all this philosophy was good on its face, but that the reality they faced each day was far more ominous- 9 mm weapons pointed at them, suspicious police tailing and stopping them, food deserts, joblessness, and so on. Besides, the men said, they knew too many of their peers who had been slain on the streets, in the past year.

The experts wisely acknowledged that there were too many souls who hadn’t been honoured, so they asked each of the men to go outside and gather up a stone, for each person they knew, who had been killed in the last year. After several minutes, the men came back inside, each carrying many rocks. They sat down, a candle was lit and placed in the center of the circle, and each person was asked to give a name to each of the stones. He was then to say the name of the victim, and place the stone next to the candle. This continued, until all the stones were set around the candle, honouring each of the murder victims.

Jack Kornfield, a social psychologist, and author of “A Path With Heart”, which helped me so much, in the early stages of grief, in 2011, was one of the “experts”. He posed a question to the men: “What would they want for you now?” One by one, the members addressed that question, in a pensive and serious manner.

As I listened to this presentation, I thought of Dad, Penny, Brian, my in-laws, grandparents, aunts and uncles, even the most rambunctious of my cousins. I think they would want me to know peace, to have arrived at self-acceptance and to keep on in the path of service. Each of them sacrificed, in one way or another, that the world they left behind might be a better place. Friends, like John H., Deedee B., Donna G., Sean W., Mario M., even Frankie Q., would want me to be doubly sure that the person inside this frame was jettisoning the baggage that held me back, for so long.

I have to want the same for myself-and believe me, it is happening-slowly, but steadily.

What Spring Sprung

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 20, 2023- I had lunch with a good friend, in a restaurant run by another good friend. This was the high point of a day that was intentionally low key. I needed to regroup, after the intensity of the camps and yesterday’s clean-up, and spending an hour or so with Akuura was a good way to relax. It’s been a while, due to my being busy with camp, so we covered a lot of ground. Emileigh, as always, was solicitous, while being low key-just a delightful young lady.

That brings me to the whole matter of “friend” vs. “acquaintance”. In tonight’s Zoom call, a session of the ongoing “Copper 2 Gold” series on Race Unity, a few people made a strong case for being discerning, in using the term “friend”. I have a different take. I consider people friends, even if we barely know one another, if I sense that they have my best interests at heart, and are kind, overall, to other people as well. “Acquaintance” is a term with which I have a hard time, mainly because people I trusted, in the past, have referred to me as such, in a standoffish and negative way. Having felt like an outsider, too often in the past, I use the term in my own speech to refer to those I meet once or twice, like a clerk in a store that I don’t frequent.

Spring has come to an end, and with it, the academic year of 2022-23; the Bellemont camp season; my tenure as Study Circle Coordinator, in Prescott Cluster (area)- a Baha’i volunteer position, which rotates every five or six years; and the intense phase of my weight reduction program (202-38= 164). What Spring sprung was a keener sense of self-worth and a better ability to help others, without putting myself behind the Eight Ball.

Now comes summer-much of it to be spent here at Home Base, or within a day’s drive. It’ll be refreshing to be around for the Fourth of July and another friend’s milestone birthday. Of course, a drive up north will take up two weeks in the latter part of July and the end of summer will find me back east, for Mom’s latest milestone. In between, barring Red Cross emergencies, I will be here in the place that the gracious Divine has set aside for my well-being.

Heave-Ho

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 19, 2023- The bags went into the landscaper’s trailer quite fast, and two at a time. Two of us managed to clear one pile and add 1/4 of the other, some it dry yard waste and some rather wet refuse from the kitchen. We got to the landfill in about thirty minutes, at which point the driver went through a learning curve about Landfill Etiquette. His documents were accepted, but it took just a little explanation of the protocol for dumping and re-weighing an empty vehicle. We then drove out to the dump site and reversed the process-emptying the trailer. The same process played out, one more time, rinse and repeat. It was a bit warmer, and the bags heavier, but we managed quite well.
Two men, working with a purpose, got a task, which many said needed four pairs of hands, done in two hours, driving 22 miles each way.

Others, in several other places, chose to act out-using what is becoming the default method of solving problems, in too many instances. In Willowbrook, IL; George, WA; Lewistown, PA; St. Louis; Carson, CA; Baltimore; Kellogg, ID; Philadelphia; San Francisco and Milwaukee, people were slain-“for reasons unknown”. It could have been a domestic disturbance, or someone who had a bad childhood lashing out at others celebrating Father’s Day, or someone angry at the Juneteenth holiday. It could have just been someone deciding to kill for the thrill.

We did our share of heave-ho, this morning. It’s time for another sort of heave-ho: Stop making excuses for people who use guns to solve their problems. I know a good many who own guns, and use them properly; some are lifelong friends and some are family members. They would not think of taking their frustrations out on the lives of others. They would not make their weapons available to misfits or to the immature. It is time to demand an end to giving firearms to the mentally ill, in the name of the Second Amendment. It soils the dignity of that document and tarnishes the very term “American”. It is time to stop putting profits-or ideology, before human lives, in both this specific area and in a broader sense.

The bigger the problem, the more collective effort is needed. We know this, and yet…..