Game Plans

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August 21, 2022- This evening, I came upon a film called ” A Feral World”, in which a teen boy and a woman have a chance meeting in the wilderness of what looks like the Front Range of Colorado, following a widespread disaster, which has rendered the human race into scattered groups of men, women and children, operating in survival mode. One clever and amoral man has gathered a group of children and teens around him, Fagin-like, and sends them out to scavenge items from abandoned factories and stores, with private homes also on the table. One of these is the daughter of the woman mentioned above, who is in fact searching for her daughter. He sends a swarm of genetically-engineered bees to help the scavengers. The bees can cause a human or animal to become liquefied.

This scenario plays out, in a bittersweet manner. It struck me as similar to several tyrant stories, both real and fictional, which have been in the public view over the centuries. Tyrants who are successful, up to a point, always have a plausible excuse for each of their actions, no matter how vile. They rely on a combination of fear, grooming techniques, deception and deflection of blame-including what is called “whataboutism” . Those who are duped by these tactics are often people who have felt left out of the march of history and progress. They were in the vanguard of the social hierarchy, for a fairly good stretch of time, but find movements to include others, who have a history of deprivation, in society’s path forward to be both incomprehensible and threatening. They fall for the notion of a zero-sum game.

I have sensed, for many years, that including one group in social progress does not mean depriving others. There is no real zero-sum game. Recognizing that we are all essentially worthy of respect and treatment with dignity removes the incentive to follow a person or group which espouses tyranny. Sounds simplistic, I know, but there really is no other way to avoid a stretch of totalitarian rule.

The Reset Button

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August 16, 2022- I took my time, getting out of bed, this morning-relatively speaking. It took eight minutes or so, instead of the usual three. I breathed very deeply, many times, due to the rush of thoughts going through my head. In this land of millions of motor vehicles, I thought about the process of getting a new one. I determined that:

  1. I would put in a full day on my work assignment, skimping on nothing. It’s a tradition for me, that personal cares and challenges stop at the workplace door. In dealing with kids, especially, the outside world has to take a backseat. It was a good day, guiding and reassuring the little ones.
  2. In the evening, I took care of some paper work transfers, then sat down and looked at a couple of websites, of local auto dealers. I determined, early on, that online purchase of a vehicle was unwise. There is a lot of transparency out there, but there is also a fair amount of deceit. One profile features a desirable vehicle, but there was uncertainty about its odometer reading. The author claimed it was “probably a clerical error, not a willful discrepancy.” Good luck with that one, pal!
  3. I made a list of vehicles that appealed to me, from the two dealers’ websites. There are seven vehicles on this short list. I will spend time tomorrow evening, talking with the dealers, on site. Kicking the tires and checking the bells and whistles are musts.

The reset button has been pushed, one more time.

Unintended Requiem

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August 15, 2022- It is probable that the woman wanted to get home so badly, that nothing or no one else mattered, including the red light, at which two other motorists had stopped their vehicles. Regardless of the promptings, what ensued was that her vehicle ended up wedged to the car in front of it, which then slammed into mine.

Her insurance carrier’s senior agent was incredulous that I had driven from the accident site to my home, over 2000 miles away. The fact is that the vital parts of the Saturn Vue were in safe, operable condition- the fuel tank and exhaust, rear wheels, brakes and struts. I made it safely, and got to a few subsequent commitments, before submitting the vehicle to the auto body shop of my choice.

Insurance companies, by nature, are risk averse, as are State Insurance Authorities, and many mechanical shops. There are good reasons for all the above, mostly based on the history of litigation. So, upon finding that there was damage to the undercarriage of Saturn, Insurance Carrier A assessed the vehicle as a total loss. I was advised to have the matter transferred to my own carrier, and so Insurance Carrier B assumed control of Saturn, and will continue dealings with Carrier A. The auto body shop will be reimbursed by Carrier A, as well: Three days of labour and five days of storage are no trifle.

The vehicle that took me to the northern tip of Newfoundland, and many points between here and there, will soon be auctioned for parts. There will be those who say “I told you so!”, while not recognizing that ANY vehicle, in the wrong place at the wrong time, may be subject to death and dismemberment.

What will now transpire is that, for the first time since 1982, I will be totally responsible for the purchase of a vehicle. Saturn was a sentimental choice, as well as being chosen for its sturdiness. The next vehicle will be of more recent vintage, and have fewer miles under its belt. This is not because of the chance I will be taunted and ridiculed, but because the vehicle will need to last me several years-potentially being the last car I will own.

Do not “rust in peace”, Saturn. Your viable parts will do many others some good.

Triple Decker

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August 13, 2022, Lake Havasu City- One by one, friends of a young man whom I have known for about three years came filing through the door of the home he shares with his father, in this desert community overlooking the Colorado River. It is his thirtieth birthday. He allowed as how this was the biggest birthday bash he has ever had-and I would not have missed it for the world. He sees today as a confirmation of his change in mindset. This was bolstered by going around and asking each of us what one piece of advice we would offer him.

I admit, I don’t know what it feels like to have a birthday where no one attended the party. Even when it was just initially the three of us, others have always showed up and made the day festive. Not everyone is so fortunate-and God knows, there are those who get arrested, or even killed, on their “special day”. Thankfully, this has not happened to anyone I have known, save one person, back in the mid-90s. There are many who do, however, end up noting their birthdays nearly alone. Today’s celebrant was one of those, on several occasions, over the years.

Another aspect of this day is the marking of three decades. Often, the “Big Three-Oh” is a mark of maturity, or at least the glimmerings of such, in a person’s life. For me, back in 1980, it was the day when a woman in San Diego told me I didn’t need to try so hard, in starting a relationship. She was in a bond of her own, so was not dropping any hints-but she said I was more physically attractive and personable than I was allowing self to acknowledge. That was borne out, a week later, when I met Penny in Zuni, NM and my life changed-for the next thirty years, if not forever. My thirties, which my last landlady in Maine had told me, two years earlier, would be enjoyable, were also the period in which I shed a long-standing bugbear: Alcohol dependence; and changed the scope of my faith, from Catholic to Baha’i- more in keeping with my own belief in the essential unity of all people-and the wholeness of Creation.

I became a father, towards the end of the decade, and now our son is in his own thirties, a loving husband, a diligent student, and a man on the cusp of a senior rank in the U.S. Navy Reserves. He has a solid life plan, a tad more organized than I had at that age, and which is also flexible enough that no change in humanity’s fortunes can derail it.

So, I see my young friend also finding a viable path, one that he and his best friend here can navigate together, if they wish. I sense that his days of viewing the world though the half-empty glass, a worldview rooted simply in fear, are over and that his considerable gifts are going to bear fruit.

Life in one’s thirties is indeed a triple-decker, of knowledge, wisdom and meaningful action.

Silence

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August 12, 2022- Having not heard anything about the progress of Saturn’s repair, I called the body shop and was told that there was damage underneath, and that the responsible party’s insurance carrier was insisting that one of their adjusters come out here and look at the vehicle himself. This will bring the whole matter into sometime next week.

Although I was told that the rental agency was being updated each day, by the body shop, I called the agency myself,as a courtesy, to let them know I would be needing the rental vehicle a few days longer. The clerk informed me that his records show Saturn as a total loss. Hmmm, a vehicle that makes a 2,700-mile journey, with no issues, and is given a thorough check-over and maintenance by its regular mechanic, is judged a total loss, by a rental car agent. Life is full of surprises. Being that the responsible party’s insurance company will re-open on Monday, all will be silent for two days. I will call them then, and see if they are the source of the rental agent’s “records”.

Silence is a capricious thing. It may be used as grist for rumours and misinformation-remember, the human mind, like Nature, abhors a vacuum. It may be comforting, or it may be unsettling. It can be used to reassure, or to intimidate. I have learned that, eventually, silence is broken. There is usually enough to do, when one or two things are interrupted by a period of silence, that little is lost, in the long run.

Speaking of which, I see that my last two posts, written using Firefox instead of Chrome, have been viewed by only a few people. It’s not a big deal, in and of itself, but I notice this has only been an issue since I refused to purchase an advanced security package from Chrome. An e-mail I sent them on the matter has been met with…….silence. So, if you want to read my posts, try accessing WordPress by Firefox.

Assumptions

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August 9, 2022- There is a family with whom my relationship has been touch and go, over the past eleven years. We work towards similar goals, yet there is always a feeling-mostly on my part, that things could be a whole lot better between us.

This, it turns out, is an indicator of my tendency to fill in the blanks with assumptions, which may have scant connection with reality. Most of the people in my life have made assumptions, so I have found this “skill” ingrained in me. Like Nature, human beings abhor a vacuum-especially one of information.

Don Miguel Ruiz comments on this, in the fourth chapter of “The Four Agreements”-noting that assumptions create twice as many problems as they purport to solve. Creating scenarios, with false or incomplete information, has been a waste of time for me, most of the time.

This leads me into the scenarios being devised, to provide false equivalency for the plights of perpetrators, when victims deserve first hearing. Then, there are trolls, whose aim is to discombobulate the masses, by throwing out false accusations about people who, while imperfect, are generally above reproach.

In reading “The Four Agreements”, I again got to thinking, hard, about all the times things have been made worse by jumping to conclusions. With my somewhat stumpy legs, missing the other side has been a considerable consequence. So, there’s another goal-quit assuming the worst, and aim for its opposite.

Impersonal

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August 8, 2022- The masked man snapped, “Don’t be smiling at ME, mister!”, as I went to pass him and his friend, the Feeding Coordinator at a local church, while cleaning up after helping serve a meal for the homeless. The hapless woman introduced us, in hope of de-escalating the matter, then scrunched her face and walked away. Masked Man then got his walking stick and left without another word. My smile was because I felt happy, nothing more.

I am reading Don Miguel Ruiz’s “The Four Agreements”, before passing it on to a family member, who I think could also benefit from his premises. The agreements discussed are those we make with society, which cloud our judgment and limit our thinking.

The one I read today was regarding taking things personally. Don Miguel correctly, in my view, points out that taking offense at someone’s adverse comments or actions is rooted in self-centeredness. If someone calls me “stupid”, it only works its dark magic if I already doubt my own intelligence. What a person says, or does to, another is really reflective of her/himself, and own issues, rather than of the recipient.

I am quite steady, anymore, through either sunshine or rain. It wasn’t always that way. I could easily come unglued, if someone made negative comments about me or acted as if I were a lesser being. That all gradually came to an end, over the past four years, with the realization of exactly what Don Miguel discusses in this book. What is about me, is how I view myself, independently of anyone else’s input. The crucible was the intrusion into my life of a viciously judgmental individual, for whom the smallest error was grounds for a screaming dressing-down. After being physically injured by the individual,albeit through psychic energy, it came to me that only completely cutting off all contact-which I was so quick to advise others to do, over the course of my career, would guarantee my safety.

That was an extreme case, and my cutting off contact with the individual did not meet with the approval of a few friends, but no matter. My greater task, indeed the greater task of all of us, is to work towards full potential, to develop those attributes that will sustain the soul in the world beyond.

The woman at the church tersely thanked me for having helped, this once, and said “See you…around”. My efforts were at the behest of another friend, who asked me to help there once before. That appearance also ended on a sour note-but that’s another story. I may go back and help, next Monday, just because I believe in the effort being made. If I get the same response as this evening’s, maybe it’ll be better to leave the group to themselves-but at least I will know, it’s not me who has the problem.

Perseverance

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August 7, 2022-

For some, Sunday is a day of rest. Those with an impossibly full plate, still need a break, or at least a nudge in that direction.

Being somewhat in the middle, I took care of a few small tasks, encouraged a loved one who is juggling two very large elephants and took a rain check on visiting other loved ones, who find themselves otherwise occupied today.

Tomorrow will bring its own tasks, all needing perseverance to complete. One thing is for certain; each of us can only do what is within the constraints of time and energy. Tomorrow is not promised to us, yet when it does come, there are things left over which can just as well be accomplished then, as now.

Patience, patience, perseverance.

Carousel of Time

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August 6, 2022- “Do you smoke?”, the gregarious woman asked, referring to the use of cannabis. When I replied in the negative, she said that she thought I should. The fact is, I ended, that my imagination needs no external aid, in going off on tangents. I haven’t used any intoxicants since February, 1981, and while I will socialize with just about anyone, it is not necessary for me to follow their behaviour in lockstep.

I was at the coffee shop of one who is an angel to me, and who has been in a mutually encouraging friendship, for four years. There are many such people in my life, all sent by the Divine, with the understanding that I be an angel to them in return. Some are huggers; others, fist-bumpers; still others are hand shakers or just verbal greeters. The heart connection is what matters most, and all are treasured.

We do all ride together, on what Joni Mitchell calls “the carousel of time”. I don’t quite see myself as a captive on that conveyance, despite what the great poetess exclaims. Nonetheless, it is a joy to find myself, increasingly, in the company of noble beings and to be able to educate those of good heart who face challenges.

The woman mentioned at the beginning of this post allowed that her dependence is perhaps a vestige of the stress under which she lived and worked, in her former place of residence. The environment she’s in now is far more nurturing, and hopefully will relieve her of stress, and that dependence.

The carousel of time does not have to be bumpy, in perpetuity. The new dreams of which Joni sings, in the last verse of the song, are indeed plenty-and there will be more still, “before the last revolving year is through.”

On Behaving Well in Groups

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August 5, 2022- The old friend could not, by all seeming, help himself. The rash of cuss words just flew off his tongue, for no particular reason other than that they came to mind. The women around us ignored the spate of profanity, and seemed to be in their own worlds. I kept my own diction in a socially acceptable framework, though I recognize that it may have been a good idea to gently and firmly ease him out of that pattern of speech.

It has been customary for parents to stress to their children that they must be polite at home, when visiting family, at a House of Worship, and in the neighbourhood. The best of parents have included school, eateries and stores in that regimen. The idea has been to build a good personal code of conduct. Not embarrassing one’s family has been a good deterrent for most, but not all.

In the Baha’i Teachings, and among others whose social consciousness is elevated, the idea of behaving well in groups, because it is a key feature of building a society based on the oneness of mankind, and because it helps build a listening culture, rather than a knee-jerk reacting culture.

I have come a long way, since 1980, in that regard, especially. There were lapses, between then and now, but they were made reparable by the culture of learning from one’s mistakes, by the qualified forgiveness of those I hurt and by the overarching power of said Teachings, which are to be applied personally, with minimal, if any, social pressure-yet have the force of practically reinventing a person, by stressing one’s strengths and letting weaknesses flow out and fade away.

I choose to act as a counterweight to boorish personalities, these days, while remembering all the times when I was one of them-and not wallowing in those memories.