October 6, 2019, Flagstaff-
Supremely dignified,
even in a scene of hand-to-hand combat,
she graced the small screen,
and cinema, alike.
She played out her life,
in a television program,
called, simply, “Julia”.
Her presence was magnificent,
throughout.
Diahann never took a backseat,
to anyone,
and the world is the better,
for having seen her like.
Rest in power,
dear queen.
October 5, 2019-
At our Baha’i Unit Convention, this morning, I spotted a sign on the host’s chalkboard, with the message, “Build Vision”. One of the constant mantras of my childhood was that we each had to see ourselves in five years, ten years, etc.
Most of us have thought of this, to the extent we think of it at all, in terms of education, career, size of family, etc. I did all that, and now, as my formal career has little more than a year to run, albeit as a part-time substitute teacher, my vision is changing tack.
It’s always been natural, even impulsive, for me to take in the world, in my planning or visualizing. Often, I have been chastised, for being too global. I think the point was for me to be more present, in the here and now. My head has made great strides, in that regard-and my focus is sharper, in the past dozen years, than it was long ago. A good part of that came with being a caretaker. There is, as is said in such challenging environments as, say, the Alaskan Bush, the fact that “Ignorance, distraction and stupidity are the three Princes of Death”.
There is much that I have left to do, so keeping my broader vision global, whilst maintaining a sharp focus on what’s close at hand, has presented itself, with a welcome intensity. If I slip, I know there are those among my faithful readers, not to mention, real time friends and family, who won’t hesitate to blow the whistle.
That is the supreme comfort.
October 4, 2019-
We have all seen and heard- over the past few days, months, years- those among us who shun nuance, skit tact and embrace the bullhorn-far more than the average person. Granted, most of us drop the tact microphone every now and again. Fatigue, stress, runaway emotions can all factor in and create a thoroughly embarrassing moment-or extended series thereof.
Those who have followed me for several years, know that I’ve had my share of tact-free episodes. I have to own those times, and if they get thrown in my face, it is best that I ponder the situation and see what remains to be learned.
We have had a few firestorms of nuance taking a vacation, over the past several years, and most recently the back and forth over responsibility for climate change, as well as diplomatic fracases. The larger truth seems to be that every living thing affects the climate of the planet on which he, she or it lives. We humans, being the most advanced creatures on Earth, have the greatest capacity for influencing such change, but I digress.
Humans, chimpanzees and ants are the three groups of animals most closely associated with warfare. Ants use what Nature gave them. The Primate species use tools, and unlike ants, can effect intentional destruction. There is scant nuance in war.
Nuance is developed by adopting a mindset that gradual change is best; that things aren’t always, or even often, what they seem; that complexity is inherent in the human condition; that people are not prisoners of their past. Nuance, like any other feature of civilization, requires an open mind, listening skills and an essential love for humanity, for sentient life.
I look forward to continuing to develop an appreciation for nuance.
October 2, 2019-
Last Sunday, I texted a friend, to see whether a meet-up we had planned earlier was still on. Immediately, I got a spirit message: They are all sick. Thirty minutes later, a text from friend verified that.
Within the past year, two women, who do not know one another but each claim to be intuitive, have told me that my own intuition and spirituality run very deep. After saying so, each distanced herself from me-one, by a series of vicious verbal attacks, followed by a loud demand that I not contact her again. (Interesting, as I had no plans to do so.) The second quietly has dropped off the radar screen, as have both of our mutual friends.
I was told that my identified strengths are best used for the healing of those around me- and although I don’t possess medical knowledge, I have taken that aspect of the women’s pronouncements to heart. In fact, helping others, with essential oils, has been part of my friendships with people, for about five years now.
I thought of these things, after finishing reading “Spiritwalker”, by Hank Wesselman. In this account, he claims to have made contact with a distant descendant-from 5,000 years hence, at a time when mankind is regrouping and recovering from a worldwide calamity. It is a compelling and plausible account, though I don’t have a great sense that the future will unfold in quite the manner he sees.
Both men, and several people, both male and female, who are around them, appear to possess shamanic powers. My erstwhile acquaintances ascribed such powers to me, the latest one saying that my using these powers is totally elective. So it is in Mr. Wesselman’s book. He and his descendant choose to do what they can, to help their loved ones and others in their respective communities.
I have embarked on a life of service, which has been understood by several, and greatly misunderstood by others, including the two women who diagnosed my nature. All I know is, at the end of a given day, I am thankful to the Universe for having bestowed such gifts on me, and ask that the signs of how I may continue to be of use, be made clear, each day. Titles, such as shaman, or even prophet, seem rather over the top, at least in my case.
September 30, 2019-
Had Penny stayed on this Earthly plane, she would have turned 65, today. There was not a day that went by, until her voice gave out, that she didn’t sing of one thing or another. Her voice was easily among the most pleasant sounds I could ever have heard. It was very often infused with praise for the Divine, making its tones that much more salubrious.
She never stopped seeking a means to improve health-her own and that of everyone she loved. It is largely her legacy that has led me to use essential oils and hemp-based CBD, which were either little known or not marketed during her long years of suffering. I can at least help maintain my own wellness and those in my widening circle who are ill. That would comfort her.
She was always her own person. Years ago, I was screamed at, for having used the term, “my Penny”, in a random post. The angry correspondent, who was not known to me beforehand, was crusading against “people thinking they own one another.” Despite that over-the-top assessment, I never regarded Penny as being somehow under my thumb. She stood her ground, right up until her last breath, and never hesitated to speak truth to power- doctors, hospital administrators, insurance executives, school principals, Senator Barry Goldwater, even her parents. The woman was fierce.
Her ferocity was based on love. No one who caught her wrath really believed her to be a noxious presence. With a few narcissistic exceptions, friend and foe alike appreciated just how much Penny Kay Fellman Boivin was devoted to the well-being of humanity. That love served to heal one of the most psychologically ill people she ever knew: myself. So, here I am, still able to carry on her work, along with my own.
The spirit, the genderless essence, watches over me still, and lends strength to doing all that remains to be accomplished.
September 24, 2019-
Dear Greta,
I have listened to your brief remarks at the United Nations, yesterday. They were cogent, as far as they went. There is much work to be done, by all generations. There is much to be done, by every nation. I admire and honour your courage, in speaking before such a vast assemblage. The concerns, the welfare, of young people are concerns of mine. I am also proud of you for seeing Asperger’s Syndrome, which I share, as a groundswell of strength
Now, let us go beyond the general expression of outrage, knowing that such is common to youth, as my own generation showed, in the 1960’s and ’70’s. It only holds the world’s attention for a fleeting period.
Your work can only bear fruit if the steps followed are specific, succinct, bulleted or numbered. Your arguments deserve to be outlined, in clear form. Your arguments, in a field as fraught with emotion as climate, deserve to be understood, by ally and opponent, alike. Your arguments cannot be “Pie in the Sky”. Take your time, in formulating them.
I love the people of each of the rising generations, passionately. Having taken your side, in conversations with more hidebound members of my own generation, I must caution you, as to what they see. There is a sizable group, among the survivors of World War II, among Baby Boomers and among Generation X, which conflates the activism of young people today, with Hitler Youth and the Red Guards of mid-Twentieth Century China. They see you as being dupes of well-heeled figures on the Far Left. They see you as not coming forward with your own thoughts. They see you as brainwashed.
I have reminded such people that we, both in North America and in Europe, rebelled against political corruption, as teens and as young adults. Time passed, and the lure of career, success, money led all too many away from ideals. Do not let that happen to you! Read George Orwell’s “Animal Farm”, if you’ve not already done so. Learn of the insidious power of corruption. If you have sponsors who are wealthy, keep an eye on them and know their motives. If they are sincerely concerned about climate change, you will know soon enough. If their agenda is control, you must recognize that, too.
Know, and be sensitive to, the fears of the average wage earners and of those on fixed incomes. One of the drawbacks of the Green New Deal is that it has not engaged the broad Middle Class, or the the elders who are on fixed incomes. These people can be, and are, all too easily susceptible to the fear-mongering of those whose agenda is at variance with your own.
People can be told that, if a climate change mitigation is followed, the Stock Market will crash, and their savings accounts will crash along with it. Too many of us elders are woefully uneducated about finance. The wire-pullers are, even now, threatening to push for a “Bear Market”, so as to maintain control over those on fixed incomes. Such balderdash is all too easily believed, by those who are struggling to live within their means. Study your history, and you will see that the same tactics were used by the Fascists, in 1920’s and 1930’s Europe. There is indeed a significant body of evidence that the economic Crash of 1929 was the work of those jockeying for control of the masses.
So, learn your finance, as well. Using that knowledge, plan steps that are incremental, that are focused and realizable. Whatever you do, do not let yourself stray all over the place, especially in response to scattershot criticism-a favourite tool of political extremists on both ends of the spectrum.
Stay the course, my friend, and make sure it is YOUR course-not the hidden agenda of those who do not have your best interests at heart. Stay fierce, and stay focused!
September 23, 2019-
A Tropical Depression arrived today.
It’s been named Maria.
I know a few women by that name.
None of them are depressing.
This Maria brought some rain to us,
and is hinting at more.
Any rain in an arid environment
is Heaven’s rain.
It is beloved by the living, sentient beings,
by the cacti, succulents and trees,
by the rocks,
and even by the sand,
as it, too, likes a departure
from the sameness
of each day’s scorching Sun.
We, the stewards,
treasure this falling sustenance.
As it happens, I spy the figure
of a mouse,
looking down from its perch
among the clouds,
confident that the gift
of the storm,
on which it rides,
will sate the collective thirst
of us below,
if only for a day,
or three.
The storm knows
that some are inconvenienced,
by the floods it has brought.
It knows, too,
that some of these beings,
may do the same things,
the next time a storm
brings the gift of sustenance.
Not all, but some.
Heaven will send its rain,
nevertheless.
September 20, 2019-
I’m proud of you,
who stood for what you believe
and told the world that Man
has a duty, to be a good steward
of this planet.
I’m proud of you,
for telling those who ignore
the warning signs,
to wake up,
as this planet doesn’t just belong
to the polluters,
to the Big Dogs,
to the billionaires,
to those who tell you
to shut up and go away.
I’m proud of you,
for saying that
your life matters
as much as anyone else’s.
I’m proud of you,
for standing tall.
for standing firm.
I’m proud of you,
every one of you.
Be prepared for the hard work that follows from today.
(Written on the occasion of Climate Strike)
September 13, 2019-
Some topsy turvy day, this.
The work day was filled with
love and laughter.
Children with Downs syndrome
bring this about.
A crowded room,
at a ribbon cutting,
with children running about,
fully in joy and exuberance,
was better than any nap.
Another request for assistance,
from one of the most vicious people
I’ve ever known,
popped the balloon of joy.
It’s what that dark spirit does.
Am I a lesser soul,
for not putting myself at her disposal?
Prayers and chanting brought me back
to a place of light.
The power and fortitude of youth
imparts strength to those who
may be worn down, just a bit.
All in all, this Full Moon
Friday the Thirteenth
ended on a bright note.
September 9, 2019-
Bill Tracy passed away last Thursday, after a month-long decline, triggered by a fall from the roof of his Palm Desert restaurant. Bill was one of those rare individuals whose concept of business was primarily as a means of giving back. He had three restaurants in Prescott-The Dinner Bell (ironically, a breakfast and lunch establishment), Bill’s Pizza and Bill’s Grill. Feeling age, he sold those establishments, in 2015, to a friend who has kept Bill’s vision. Bill’s Pizza, for example, donated about twenty large pies to the Farmers’ Market Board, yesterday, to feed volunteers and staff at the Farm-to-Table Dinner.
Bill’s philanthropy was where his heart was. He gave to a variety of causes and regarded the needs of the community, both in Prescott and in the Palm Springs area. He has helped our local Red Cross Chapter, as well as the Farmers’ Market and a local street ministry. Bill hired those who were disadvantaged, and worked with them to develop job skills. I have eaten at all three of his restaurants, on several occasions over the years. I never met the man, but I saw his ethic at work and notice that there is a close camaraderie in each of the establishments.
People like Bill Tracy are the gold standard, combining social sense, business sense and deep character. Many of us strive to develop one or another of these qualities, and make a good effort at it. Bill had the drive and sense of constancy to keep up with the changes and chances of economic downturns-and was a force in establishing shelters and care programs for the homeless, both in Prescott and in the Palm Springs area.
He won’t return to Prescott, but I daresay his spirit will never leave this community.
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