July 27, 2025- Looking at the “Jumble” on a place mat at our weekly Post 6 Breakfast, this morning, I was able to solve the four words within a minute. Word puzzles have typically been easy for me, over the years. A few months back, I noticed that there were some simple recalls escaping me, though, and it appeared that the normal vagaries of aging were showing their faces.
I also noticed the spots on my hands getting brighter, and so first invested in Liver Cleanse capsules, which helped some. When those ran out, I started in with Liver/Kidney Cleanse capsules. These have been even m ore effective, and with noticeable improvement in both organs’ functioning. The spots are faded even more.
Somehow, both my energy level, which has been good, has improved even more and the brain fog is also a lot less. The “Mnemonic Plague” is seemingly connected to liver and/or kidney health. Short naps are still needed, when I have a heavy activity schedule, although more so when the schedule is full of sedentary meetings than when physical activity is involved.
I will take the ongoing improvements, from top to bottom, as long as the Divine sees fit to grant them.
July 24, 2025- There are days when a common thread wiggles its way through the ether, and draws in other threads, which become fastened to it, through a process not immediately comprehensible. Today was such a day. The common thread was my task of getting documentation for possible shelter venues for the American Red Cross.
I had completed the first visit, to Page Unified School District, yesterday, and had made it back to Flagstaff, after a stop at Cameron Trading Post for a Navajo Taco meal. Saving about half of it for a second meal, later today, involved some positioning of the container in what is arguably the world’s smallest refrigerator. American Motor Hotel, where I spent last night, is a space-themed gem, looking somewhat like the brightly- painted lodging establishments now fairly common in the Los Angeles area. The in-room refrigerator is, well, unique and “interesting”. It is designed to hold maybe one or two cold beverages, and a couple of sandwiches. I got the meal container in there, by temporarily removing the shelf and inserting the container vertically.
All in all, though, Americana is a great place to spend a night or two, or even make a vacation of it, as there is an outdoor pool, a funky Mexican restaurant on site, a large outdoor patio area with shaded round tables and room decor that is both amusing (a blue orb that shines and rotates, when plugged in) and thought-provoking (framed posters). The congenial desk staff seals the deal, with cheerful attention to every guest and offering reusable metal water bottles as welcome gifts. Thus, my overnight in Flagstaff became a mini-break from the business at hand. Breakfast at an old East Flagstaff favourite, Miz Zip’s, was a further delight, with homemade corned beef hash as a well-enjoyed choice. Sedona, the lone server when I first came in, was cheerful and attentive to all, even as nearly twenty people showed up after I came in and sat down. Mz. Zip’s has lost none of the ambiance it had when I lived here in 1980-81.
East Flagstaff has its share of fun places, but it was time to head out towards Native American Baha’i Institute, a three-hour drive eastward. The ride was smooth, and traffic moderate, especially once I got past Winslow. I got there, greeted those present, in the Navajo way, with a handshake and “Yaa’tey” (Good day), and went over the requisite forms for a Shelter Survey. Then, it was time for a mini-birthday celebration for one of the elders, with cake. A discussion followed, about non-Navajos hunting elk on the Reservation, by using helicopters. It doesn’t surprise me that this is being done, but I expressed my view that the Navajo Nation Council should be the arbiter of such practices. The elders agreed, and one of them has already filed a complaint with his councilman.
Wanting to get back to Home Base by early evening, I bid farewell to the Dineh friends and drove back towards I-40. Close to the entry point, I encountered a lady who said that a car was on fire up ahead. Lo and behold, a Navajo Police officer had parked near the vehicle that was indeed on fire. Saying a silent prayer for the safety of all concerned, I thanked the lady and turned around, being able to warn another driver about the situation, before taking the detour to the highway. A fire truck and water tanker came by, just before I hit the road.
That brings me to the next unanticipated thread. I gave a ride to a Dineh man who was heading, via circuitous route, to his granddaughter’s birthday party, far to the south. Turns out, he has been working for a modular home manufacturing company, which closed its factory in Page, just this week. The situation is complex, but here is a man, one of many, who is being left high and dry. This is the first I had heard of the situation, but it would not be the last. I heard him out, and got him to a location, south of Holbrook, from where he could catch a further ride. The rest of the drive home, via Winslow, Clints Well and Camp Verde, was serene and in fairly light traffic. I enjoyed the rest of the Navajo Taco in the comfort of Home Base I.
Thus did the thread of my main effort, getting the process going for Red Cross shelters in two more localities, find itself interwoven with wildlife conservation and protection, the housing industry’s woes and their effect on workers and their families and the pleasurable lodging and dining options on Flagstaff’s east side. It was a good 48 hours.
July 21, 2025- Walking to the Soup Kitchen, this evening, I got an urgent call from a friend, needing assistance. Fortunately, someone else was able to render help. I continued on to the Solid Rock and found that there was a shortage of servers, so my presence was actually indispensable. We did manage to finish serving and the clean-up, by 5:30, thanks to a simpler menu than what we had last week.
It was a day of rolling boulders, and though I managed to avoid getting steamrolled, some had a harder time. Friend texted me afterward, and the emergency had been handled-for now. I will keep my calendar clear tomorrow, though, in case there is any repetition. Another friend had enough of a work situation that he saw as unethical, and quit. He will land on his feet.
A mid-sized restaurant chain, mostly in our area, has been shuttered, due to several allegations of misconduct. The branches I have visited offered rather good food, and many of the workers were pleasant people. I hope for justice in this matter. When the boulders roll downhill, though, they are indiscriminate. More and more, that which has been kept dark is being brought to light.
I am choosing to be more discerning about my own actions and statements. That is the best way I can see to not be steamrolled.
July 20,2025- This evening, I spent a few hours watching all I cared to, of the 2010s series Blindspot. It begins with a woman who has been injected with drugs that lead to her total amnesia. Of course, nothing of the sort lasts forever, and through snippets of triggered memory, helped in part by her having been tattooed in specific manners, over her body, she is soon faced with two DNA paths, as to her real identity.
I may get back to the series at some point, but this week will be focused on three aspects of my own identity: Red Cross documentation, study of Baha’i guidance, and a friend’s need for transportation. Today was just focused on the leisure aspect of who I am. Breakfast with friends, exercise at Planet Fitness and light reading, followed by crossword puzzles and the aforementioned program.
I have a much firmer grasp of my identity and purpose now, than I did in certain parts of years past. There has never been any doubt as to my family, or the love of my late wife. Any gaps in understanding have more or less began and ended with my own being at peace with self. There are things that seem to have been kept from me, by extended family who have gone on-but none of that has any bearing on who I am now, so bygones are bygones. I’ve elaborated in other posts about the various parts of my life, and the people who are important in those elements. What matters most now is what I am going to do with those parts, as I approach the next quarter century, or whatever part of it I may be given.
There is no amnesia, or conflicting paths, as to who I am or what I represent. That’s what matters most.
July 19, 2025- The feather lay on the asphalt, as I left Sportage and went towards Rafter 11, this evening. Remembering the significance, to First Nations people, of a feather lying on the ground, I glanced back and saw that the wind was carrying it towards the edge of the lot. Figuring it would not be run over and therefore safe, I went across the road to indulge in some hummus with pita and vegetable sticks and to enjoy a cover artist’s collection of country and folk rock tunes. Once I took my seat, glancing down, I saw the same feather that had been across in the parking lot. The breeze had picked up during the time it had taken me to cross the street and get situated, so this did not surprise me.
Dineh, Hopi, Apache (Inde) and other First Nations peoples regard a feather on the ground as a gift from the sky, establishing a connection between the receiver and the bird from which the feather came, by extension another link to the Creator. We live in a time when there is an increasingly tenuous connection between Man and the Nature of which he is a part. I have been in various natural settings, from sandy desert to deciduous urban parks; from Ponderosa and Douglas fir forests to high grasslands and desolate peat bogs; from the middle of the ocean to a Vietnamese rain forest. In each, there is a sign of nature.
Usually, that is something like a heart-shaped rock, of which I have encountered many. So have thousands of other people who are observant. Many of us have also seen animals that appear real, only to not be visible in a photograph, when they were present in the view finder, even as the shutter was pressed. I have been gifted with bird feathers by First Nations friends, over the years, and have carefully placed them in a web, attached to a dowsing stick that was given me by a Dineh friend, twenty years ago. The stick itself has two falcon feathers and a wild turkey feather attached. I also have an eagle feather that was given me by another Dineh friend, and which is attached to a wicker heart that Penny devised, in the early 2000s. I placed the raven feather opposite and slightly underneath the eagle feather.
Whilst sitting and enjoying hummus and strumming, I placed the raven feather in a planter next to my table. I found myself considering the matter of Labor Day weekend, six weeks away. I recently received an invitation to attend a Baha’i school in Colorado Springs. Having attended it three times in the past, it was on my mind this evening. With spiritual energy that I can only sense as coming from the feather, I pondered what is happening here at Home Base I, that weekend. I was reminded that my friends at Farmers Market will be busy preparing for the Farm-to-Table Dinner, a week later and that there may be only three of us who can work the market breakdown on August 30. I was also reminded, earlier this afternoon, that a Peace Day will likely take place on August 31. Then, too, after the Farm to Table Dinner, it’ll be off to Europe, and possibly east Africa ( safety permitting), during September and October.
At the risk of overthinking, I am staying put here, over Labor Day. I love the eastern Colorado friends and will pray fervently for their school’s success. I love the friends here, too.
July 18, 2025- Shortly after the founder of a small online devotional group requested that we say prayers, the co-facilitator launched into an anecdote that seemed to have been on her mind for some time. Those of us who had prayers ready to recite gave her our attention for the ten minutes that it took to share the story. Everyone got their words in, by the time the hour was up. It took flexibility to keep the founder, and others, from cutting off the lady and letting the intense story flow to its end. No humans were harmed in this process.
I was taught to seldom, if ever, take it upon myself to interrupt someone speaking, and much less, people in conversation-no matter how trivial their subject might sound to my ears. It was Mom’s idea of humility-and it has paid dividends, over the years. It also requires flexibility, because let’s face it, each of us regards our own ideas and agendas as being of some import. Giving everyone else the same grace, though, is the first sign that the light of maturity is a long-lasting LED, and not a flickering fluorescent tube.
There is another aspect to the notion of staying flexible in the course of one’s affairs. Certain moral concepts are non-negotiable, if we are to maintain civilized society. Private conversations should remain private. A pledge to help someone needs to be carefully thought out, before it is made; it then, must be fulfilled, to the best of one’s ability. Regard for our fellow humans needs to be held separately from differences of opinion. Recognition of a Higher Power is the bedrock upon which any successful life is lived.
There is plenty of room for flexibility, in each of those concepts. The lubricant of that flexibility is love.
July 17, 2025- I decided to take an early morning breakfast at the newly-opened Gurley Girl Bakery, just up the street from HB 1. The problem was that this is a late-opening establishment (9 am), and it was 8:30. Breakfast came from across the road, at Scooters, which actually has rather good burritos, that remind me a bit of the fare at Glenn’s Bakery, Gallup.
Many times, I have found that being proactive needs to be scaled back, in the face of forces that just aren’t ready for what I have had in mind. I had been thinking that it might be useful to go to the Native American Baha’i Institute today, and conduct a survey for its use as a secondary Red Cross shelter, then return back here this evening, Prudence led to changing the game plan to combining this with a journey up to Page, for a similar effort, next Wednesday and Thursday. It is not often wise to get ahead of the game.
In the late afternoon, I spent some time listening to two men who hold slightly different views form one another, but who have become friends by hearing one another out. Their take is that the nation will do best by taking a Big Tent approach, as has been the case in the most successful years of our nation’s history-indeed of the heritage of most nations. Those who exclude people with whom they disagree are also getting ahead of the game. I have been happiest when among those who can express various points of view, so long as they do not advocate violence against those who disagree with them.
In cases of oppression, those who seem ahead of the game invariably end up finding themselves behind.
July 13, 2025- Today was an auspicious day. It is the birthday of my twin sisters-in-law. It is the anniversary of the beginning of a thankfully brief journey down a dark rabbit hole. It is also the anniversary of the passing of a good friend. In brief, July 13 is a mixed bag.
Today here in Prescott and at Bellemont was a peaceful day. The third day of camp was, by all accounts, splendid and people worked together to get the camp broken down and deep-cleaned. Here, I took care of the cats and did scant else, regrouping after yesterday’s full schedule and looking carefully at the fire reports from the North Rim of Grand Canyon. The news was terrifying: Grand Canyon Lodge, the North Rim Visitor’s Center, staff lodging and various cabins were destroyed. Fortunately, all workers and guests had been evacuated before the fire hit.
I never stayed in the Lodge, but enjoyed its lobby’s art and wandering around the neo-Victorian structure. The hotel was a rebuilt version of the original, itself lost in a fire in 1937. It will take time, but the likelihood is that the Lodge will be rebuilt.
I thought a lot today about where I am in the world. How much good am I actually doing? A project I had sponsored in the Philippines, in the first area I visited in that country, has fallen victim to thieves, who took building materials that were intended to improve a children’s school. So many people in this world look back on their own childhood, tell themselves that they were deprived and therefore, it’s okay for them to steal from the children of today.
I was raised to take the bitter with the sweet and to not expect to be put above anyone else. This is not a lesson that is universally taught, and thus we are in a hard place, as a species. Those who place themselves above the rest should not be at all surprised, when in the end, deprivation rears its head and takes back from them what was never due them in the first place. That is just a general observation on the way things tend to transpire.
It has been largely a restful day, but also one that has been bittersweet.
July 10, 2025- Cat 1 put her whole face in the food bowl, eating for about five minutes-and consumed about 1 1/2 out of 4 teaspoons of food. She would eventually take 2 1/2 tsp of the meal, during the course of the day. Cat 2 was full-on voracious, or maybe he had “help” from Cat 1, but his bowl was licked clean. He’s a “boy” after my own heart. I have been in the Clean Plate Club, 99.9% of the time, since I was about 8. I never had a helper though.
The day illustrated the complex, and at times chaotic, nature of the energy that has arisen since July 1. A fire emergency rose, got everyone’s attention, led to several calls to Red Cross team mates, then the fire was brought under control. I then was able to focus, fully, on setting up Bellemont Baha’i School for this weekend’s camp. Though I am not going to be on-site for more than a few hours tomorrow, the prep work involved counting and setting aside supplies, then running to a hardware store for extra push lights and strike plates for electrical outlets. All that was accomplished, with the help of a couple of team members.
In both the Red Cross and Baha’i matters, there was a blizzard of text messages and phone calls. Some of us reflected back on how such things were done, pre-cellular and Instant Messaging. It just took longer, with more time sitting by land line phones-and the use of telegraphs. Many younger folks have no concept of telegrams, or even of the FAX machine, which was the tool of the connected, in the 1990s and early 2000s.
The synchronicity continued this evening, as another fire emergency arose, just as I was headed into a community room to give a presentation on Red Cross to residents of a small village, 30 miles east of Prescott. The emergency waited until I could get back here and e-mail a group of about 18 people, to ask their help over the next several days. (Clarity: The fire is a long way from the village where I made the presentation.)
The heavy energy will continue, tomorrow and Saturday, even without the fire to face: Camp, the cats, and two simultaneous picnics on Saturday, along with the Market and a Baha’i Feast. Ah, the joys of retirement! 🙂
July 8, 2025- The clever cat waited for her food, then moved away from it-thinking that she might help herself to the food I was about to set out for her male fellow feline. After psspssing her away a couple of times, I brought her over to her dish, from which she ate a bit, then moved away. It was time for me to go to another appointment, so it was up to male cat to get up and eat. Cats tend to be loners and I will see how the feeding process has gone, when I return for more pet watching, tomorrow morning.
Earlier in the afternoon, I found myself the sole person left out of small groups, during a Shelter Manager class, instead having brief conversations with each of the moderators. We were thus able to touch on a few esoteric matters, as well as a couple of the questions posed to some of the small groups. The relationships that Shelter Managers have with those above and below them came up. Managers tend to be well-regarded by shelter staff, clients and regional brass alike, provided we devote ourselves to the well-being of those being sheltered and those tending to them. There are a few, typically special event staff and some facility security, who tend to regard a Red Cross shelter as an intrusion. These are the ones who are best handled with kid gloves, though never to the extent that those being sheltered are accosted or bothered in any way by those with agendas that are at odds with the Red Cross mission.
The course of this week, laden with service activities that overlap in places, still finds me standing (or driving) alone, frequently. It’s fine-as I can take the time necessary to do paperwork, whilst in an online meeting; get up early and tend to friend’s cats ( a fifteen-minute drive), returning for round two in the evening-of course, in between both long-distance and local engagements. I need to take time alone to do things about which I lack confidence. There were too many people, in my earlier days, who reveled in seeing me, and others, make a mess of things. I won’t give them the satisfaction, anymore, of seeing me blow it. Mom taught me to be comfortable in my own skin, and here I stand.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 