Lots of Crackling Sunshine

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July 22, 2022- The spunky girl took the cell phone she had left sitting on a chair, in the sunshine, and for a moment, her world came crashing down. Once I told her chaperone that an hour or so in a cool building would revitalize the phone, she was back to being an effervescent twelve-year-old.

Thirty-one young people, each of them a source of brightness or of challenge, at any given time, have been front and center for the past 1 1/2 days. Anyone wondering how a person my age could be in such a situation, and not go bonkers, is missing the big picture. The energy that seems so unmanageable now is going to be the source of a good many solutions to problems that seem insurmountable, to the very people who complain about the kids. Besides, when one takes the time to listen, any person can feel validated.

The small team of adults, each an angel in their own right, brought the campers up from the Phoenix area, for a session that will last until Monday. I stayed until this evening, then came back to Home Base, due to another commitment. It would have otherwise been no problem, to have remained at Bellemont until closing. I will be back up there next weekend, for a shorter camp, with a smaller group of adolescents.

My work was somewhat in the kitchen, and somewhat around campus. Mainly, the task was just being supportive of campers, chaperones and camp staff. We tended to one another’s needs, as if family-which is how a faith community ought to be. When a cabin full of girls reported, through their dorm master, that someone was knocking at their door after lights out, every other camper, chaperone and staff person accounted for their own whereabouts and it was determined that an adult would stand watch outside the cabin, until morning. My boss volunteered himself. If he hadn’t, I would have stayed up. No one threatens or hurts “our” kids. Least of all, do they hurt one another. One of the most important life lessons is building compassion.

Every being has a purpose, and every sentient being has several. I am honoured to be able to contribute, meaningfully, to helping these wonderful souls to find theirs.

Improv

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July 19, 2022- The long-winded gentleman took twenty minutes to describe a method of boosting metabolism and removing those elements which block the turning of food into energy. I understand the need to explain the science, and to offer a personal narrative, but I was glad when he finally named the ingredients that might help me boost my own metabolism.

His product, containing mangosteen juice, ashwagandha powder, cinnamon bark, panax ginseng, green tea and inulin (carob powder), in a shake form, is rather pricey. So, I got those products, from Prescott’s most reliable herb shop (One Root Tea), and two organic food stores-Sprouts and Natural Grocers, and will add a morning supplemental regimen of the aforementioned, to the evening Lifelong Vitality Supplements. Am I sounding like others of a certain age? Why, of course! That’s okay. I will improvise a daily concoction or shake, with the powders and take the capsules with it. We will see if the spokesperson’s promise that “You, too, can move like Jagger!” pans out. I find Mick to be rather entertaining, but I can see exactly what reaction I would get, if…….

We each have a responsibility to be the best self that can be. So, working on the gut has its place. Having more energy would not be so bad, either.

Unbaffled

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July 18, 2022- Acts of love never baffle me.

The day greeted me, freshly-washed as it was, after a thorough overnight monsoon soaking. I had several tasks ahead, so it was easy to get up and greet the day right back. First up was a preliminary visit to the Auto Body Shop that I use, to get a sense of when I might be able to get an estimate on the damage from July 7’s kerfuffle in Pennsylvania. Then there was the considerable amount of mail that I needed to sort. Finally, my body was treated to its first real workout since last Thursday.

I am never surprised by acts of kindness that come my way. This evening, I went to one of my favourite pizzerias in town. It was unusually busy, and even with a full staff, I waited quite a while to even have my order taken, another little while before getting my salad, but not too long afterward for my one slice of pizza. The waitress, who I have known for about a year, gave me an extra slice, for my patience. In the end, she was flustered with herself, for making me wait yet another twenty minutes, before bringing me the check-and said my meal was on the house. The owner, based in Palm Desert, CA, would have expected as much. After tipping my young friend well, for her trouble, I headed back to the Nest.

Loving does take practice in a world that is often lacking in it. The waitress’s act was likely noticed by several others and to the extent she was able to serve them in a timely manner, it probably redounded in her favour. Nonetheless, J is someone who will go far in life, just by holding herself accountable.

For my part, I know that my own accountability is an ongoing process. Everything, from how often and how well I write my mother (who needs to have letters written in large print) to keeping my own affairs in order, will remain rooted in love. From love, comes dignity and the two are inseparable.

I remain unbaffled by it all.

Glimpses of Shutdowns

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July 16, 2022- The lines of traffic on I-40, east of Gallup and again, west of Holbrook, as I went along in the opposite direction, were apocalyptic. Even my own many forays along Chicago’s I-94 seemed like a Sunday drive, in comparison. There was little information about the New Mexico tie-up, though it was likely due to an accident relative to a construction project. The Arizona snag was due to police activity. I noted several patrol cars blocking the road, and despite the inconvenience of the heat, it was no doubt for the best. There didn’t appear to have been any accident, so my guess is someone was up to no good-and got caught.

This has been a hard year, indeed, a hard decade for many. The ongoing outbreaks of COVID remind me of the three major outbreaks of bubonic plague, which occurred generations apart from one another, and were equally global in impact. It is best to keep this in mind, when expressing “being tired of restrictions”. No one is presently being “restricted”, by the government or private enterprises, but there are occasions when even those of us who have been vaccinated and boosted, but not infected, deem it prudent to put on a face mask. I did so, on several occasions during my just-concluded journey to and from Atlantic Canada. I will again, around Home Base and when going up to Bellemont Baha’i School, on a couple of occasions, during the next two weeks, as prudence dictates.

The costs of fuel and other staples are stuck at high levels, with many predicting that, with industry smelling record profits, these costs are unlikely to go down much, if at all. This places a serious burden on those who commute to work, or who depend on their vehicles in the course of their work. Other than promoting telecommuting, I don’t have any snap answers to this dilemma. My own vehicle has maximized fuel efficiency, thanks to having good mechanics available, both here and in other parts of the country. Even so, gas is sky-high in price, and diesel, for those who depend on it, is downright astronomical.

My only personal recourse, in all this, is to maintain my daily life and continue to follow those guides, visible and invisible, who provide me with a course of action, both short and long-term. Our parents and grandparents made it through equally difficult, if not worse, times. We can do the same, by sticking together.

Flagellation

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July 15, 2022, Amarillo- The young lady had to be coaxed out of the women’s restroom, by her supervisor. Not knowing her situation, and seeing that it was none of my business, I just sat patiently and waited to place my order. Of course, had it been another twenty minutes, I’d have paid for my beverage and left, but there is a certain period of time that one can use for the exercise of patience.

Many of us, myself included, have variously been given to fits of beating ourselves up and being fearful of other people, who may or may not represent a danger. Most of the time, I have found that, in the first instance, a course correction is far preferable to self-flagellation. In the second case, a mix of fortitude and prudence carries the day.

The woman mentioned above seemed to lack self-confidence, and had to pull herself together to do the basic task of taking an order for a meal. She managed, as millions of us before her have managed, by just taking a few deep breaths and going forward. There simply would have been no other way, other than fleeing back into a “safe haven”, which probably would have cost her that job. My meal was competently delivered, as was the bill, once I had finished eating.

Truth be known, there have been all too many instances, in which I have timidly approached tasks which thousands, if not millions, of others have done-and done well, over the millennia, or at least over the past hundred years. Novel tasks also crop up, regularly, thanks to advances in science and technology-and I have looked at them gingerly, as well. A very small part of this has been because of people in my life who have cast doubt on my ability to walk and chew gum, simultaneously. About seven years ago, though, having come back from a visit to Europe and having managed to not get thrown in jail, or out of any given country, it really started to occur to me that just maybe sometimes the Boo-Birds in my life were wrong-deflecting and projecting their self-doubts onto little old me.

Then, I started to look at my life in its totality, up to that point. All the things I’d done right came flooding into my consciousness-and many of them were things that I would only have messed up by overthinking, or by wondering-“What would — do?” Some were huge things; most were small matters that just added up. I am now in the last stages of the longest road journey I’ve ever undertaken on my own, in a solid motor vehicle that some questioned would even make it to the halfway point. (It did, and there was the moderate maintenance that one would expect of ANY vehicle.) Newfoundland, and all points in between, were worth it. The affirmations I have received, from people who know cars better than I do, far outweigh the aspersions cast by those who doubt my abilities, or my judgement.

I hope young V is able to cast out her own demons. She did well tonight, in spite of her doubts and fears.

Certitude

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July 14, 2022, Grapevine- The Republic of France celebrated the day, 233 years ago, when the Nation’s most-hated prison, La Bastille, was stormed by a mob, as the people were fed up with the dissembling of Louis-Auguste (Louis XVI) and what they perceived as the oppressive policies of the nobility, acting in concert with the Church. The chaos that swirled around that nation, both before and after the trials and executions of Louis and his wife, Marie Antoinette, led only to the rise of the equally autocratic, if more effective in leadership, Napoleon Bonaparte.

The life of a nation, like the lives of individuals, families and communities, depends upon a delicate mix of certitude and flexibility in the face of change. The former without the latter can easily turn into rigidity and oppressiveness. The latter, without the former can be just more wishy-washy foolishness, changing with the wind and tides.

The great Spiritual Teachers have each told us to be discerning, thoughtful and motivated by love. This requires a lot of work, daily and long-term, to maintain both one’s individual life plan and to support loved ones in theirs. My own certitude actually depends on flexibility. I have seen people I love dearly end up feeling broken and hopeless, because their way was not chosen over the highway; because things did not proceed according to what they, alone, deemed best -especially for others. It could have been the same in my life, had I not accepted the concepts of listening to even my harshest critics and gleaning the best of ideas and beliefs they espoused, which actually turned matters around, on a few occasions.

While none of us is spared the grief and pain that accompany life on this plane of existence, neither is that life solely a matter of gritting one’s teeth and enduring excruciating pain, for decades on end. There are opportunities and there is always a way out of the rubble-even if it takes a lot of digging.

Democracy

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July 12, 2022, Grapevine- I didn’t have anything on my agenda today, except uploading more Newfoundland photos to my Flickr account and just enjoying the company of Son and Daughter-in-Law. There was, as it happened, joining a Zoom call for Spiritual Feast, in the evening. I am playing it by ear, as to joining Baha’i events, while here, but the Universe made it happen, this evening.

I did watch some of the January 6 Committee hearing, today. For years now, I have disagreed with those who have said, “We are not a democracy. We are a republic.” I get that Athenian-style democracy would be unwieldy, in a large, complex nation. The Romans found that out, but sadly, in their case, the oligarchs carried the day. Authoritarians can be efficient, in SOME areas, but people are people-whether wealthy and ambitious, or humble and complacent. No one is without flaws. Nonetheless, every citizen’s vote matters. All citizens, not just a select few, have the right to weigh in on matters of public weal.

A child must be taught to consider the needs of others to be as valid as his/her own. A child also must be validated, affirmed, as to personal power, strength of character and legitimate achievements. No child should have to grow up in an environment of ridicule, emotional deprivation and parental sleight-of-hand. To be so subjected leaves the child to grow into a self-centered, survivalist being, whose watchwords are “My way or the highway”. So we see the present spectacle unfolding before us.

Let us remember that a republic IS a form of democracy. Mine eyes still see the Glory.

The Hawk Slayer’s Roost

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July 9, 2022, Crossville- The male chicken can fend off attacks on his flock, by raptors, and the most virile of roosters can kill a hawk, falcon or owl, by stealth and superior strength. T has a sense of this, but there are no hens and chicks for him to guard. He sits in his cage, or goes out into his enclosed porch area. It’s all very humane, this living arrangement, though it’s hardly ideal. It is what his human minders can provide, for the time being-and it surely beats being kept in some sort of bird shelter.

Many people, in their later years, are brought to residences of various sizes and quality levels, either of their own volition or by the choice of their minders. They have, by and large, fought their own good fights, fended off the equivalent of the raptors in their own lives-though I must say the birds of prey are at least doing their part in nature, and have a measure of magnificence about them. The human predators, faced down by so many mothers and fathers, in defense of their own, have few, if any, redeeming qualities-even if some of them wear clerical garb, doctors’ scrubs, law enforcement uniforms, judicial robes or sit at a teacher’s desk. There are rogues in every walk of life, and there are lapses in judgement by many others, who are otherwise decent people. The guardians are thus greatly deserving of their respite-even if it doesn’t always feel like it’s the best thing since sliced bread.

I thought of the battles waged on behalf of my siblings and me, by my parents-especially by Mom, and how each of us have carried on the tradition, on behalf of our own children-and their children. The vigilance will continue, as long as there are threats and challenges. I thought of the care being given the precious children being raised by friends, even thought they are not their own. I thought of the battles for the safety and well-being of women and girls, in a world where so many, even other women, regard a female body as someone else’s possession.

There is, to my mind, scant difference between Community Pregnancy Centers and alternative clinics that offer a full range of services to women in crisis. Where the line needs to be drawn, in any case, is the occasion where the woman in crisis is having her choices made for her-whether it is the judge forbidding her to seek abortion or the doctor, with dollar signs in his/her head, having the person strapped down to a bed and carrying out the procedure, even after she has changed her mind and decided to carry the baby to term.

In an entirely different scenario, Penny had the final say on anything to do with her body, until she no longer could coherently make such decisions. When it fell to me, or to our son, the decision made was always in keeping with what we felt the woman we knew would have chosen.

The hawk slayer sits, peacefully, on his roost, as the rest of us get ready for a good night’s rest. He will sleep, himself, when he senses there is no threat for the evening. May it ever remain so.

The Rains Came-and Stayed

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July 8, 2022, Crossville, TN- Breakfast came, not long after the little girl had poked her head in the downstairs kitchen and hinted that she’d like some hot chocolate. “It’s there for your enjoyment, my love.”, I thought, and simply nodded, with a smile, towards the box of K-pods that had plenty of the delicious beverage. She helped herself, zip-zip, with the usual energy of an eleven-year-old, and was back out the door and up to her Sleepover room, in no time. Her aunt then brought my breakfast of avocado toast, granola and Bing cherries and mused about the challenges of raising three girls who had come from a challenging environment. Right now, they are in probably one of the safest environments they could ever want, looked after, nurtured and protected by a wealth of grounded, caring adults. I was, for a fleeting moment, one more.

I left the salubrious Oley Valley around 10:30, enjoyed the rolling hills and valleys of south central Pennsylvania for another two hours or so, before rolling down through the snippets of similar countryside in Maryland and West Virginia, before the long spine of Appalachian Virginia, itself a Heaven on Earth. The rain was with me, off and on, from Strasburg to just west of Knoxville, a series of gully washers that variously slowed traffic to a crawl or only mildly perturbed the stream of drivers, most of whom, it seemed, were headed from points along the Megalopolis to the Great Smokies. That perception was reinforced by seeing 90 % of my fellow travelers veer off onto I-77 South, at the fork in the highway, some fifteen miles north of Knoxville.

This trip has not seen me stop at three of my favourite eateries. D’s Diner and Rte. 220 (formerly Bedford) Diner, both in Pennsylvania, were simply not on the itinerary this time, with family meals being a priority. Neither, as it happened, was Dukes Bar and Grill, in Harrisonburg. That little spot will be a place for future visits, but today was a move-along steadily day. It was important to be in Crosstown, before my hosts were dead-to-the-world asleep, which would have led to my sleeping in the Saturn, in their driveway. (Complex situation short: Their schedule is full, from tomorrow morning until Sunday noon, and any sleep they get is golden.)

So, move-along it was, with gas-ups in Leesport, PA, Winchester and Wytheville, VA and a crispy chicken wrap as my second meal- enough to sustain this still ample frame. After a few knocks, my startled host opened the door, and here I sit, inside another cozy house. This is home, until sometime on Sunday, when we all head out the door, in two separate directions.

We All Just Want to Get Home

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July 7, 2022, Oley, PA- The crestfallen woman sat in her now crumpled vehicle, saying she was alright, while a police officer and a female EMT tried to convince her to come out of the vehicle and be checked. For whatever reason, she had not noticed the two cars ahead of her, which were stopped for a red light. Fortuitously, the light turned green, just after the collision, and the driver of the lead vehicle, which was not seriously damaged, led the other two across the intersection, to a place where First Responders could safely carry on their business. The woman said, more than once, “I just wanted to get home.”

Life is a chain reaction, and we’re all in the chain. The seemingly fanciful “Butterfly Effect”, is not so whimsical, when one considers that the insect does pollinate plants-and thus, flapping its wings helps the food chain. The people involved in the above-mentioned accident each had a place to go: The woman to her home; the man in the middle, to a stress-relieving activity and the man in the lead vehicle, to visit family and friends. The First Responders, no doubt, had plans for after their shifts, which were to end soon. On an added note, almost underscoring the way in which we are all connected, the two vehicles in the back were stuck together, which would probably require two tow trucks-one to pull from the rear and one from the front.

We all just want to get home. For some, home has a narrow connotation. There are people, the world over, who have never left their home village or neighbourhood. Others may have two homes, or three, in different places, and love each as much as the others. Then, there are those who regard the whole Earth as their home-and love one part of it as much as all others.

In leaving one place, which I consider home, invariably the journey takes me to another place where I feel the same. I started out on June 12, from Prescott, my primary home, and have been to various places along the way that have also had a homey feel to them. Leaving Saugus, my childhood home, yesterday evening, I stopped in New York’s Taconic Region, which is welcoming and refreshing. Today’s journey was comparatively short: Brewster, NY to a family residence in Exton, PA for dinner and a brief visit, thence here, to the business compound and home of two long-time friends, one of whom shares today, as his birthday, with my son-whose home I will also visit, next week.

I talked at length, this evening, with a couple. The husband, a Ugandan and the wife, an American who has worked in that country. The husband spoke about the nations I am hoping to visit, in two years’ time, saying that the places have incredible beauty and are rising to their challenges, individually and collectively. He likewise spoke of both Uganda and the United States as his homes.

We all just want to get home. It helps to regard our Earth as a collective home, as much as possible.