Snow, and Steady

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January 7, 2024, Ghost Ranch, NM- The knock came on my door, at 10 a.m. sharp, as the snow was still coming down, in Gallup. ”Housekeeping!”, so I opened the door, and the young lady assured me that, with the snow, she was taking everything casually and I needn’t rush out the door-checkout time notwithstanding. After finishing my prayers, I started up Sportage, cleaned all the snow off and loaded up, for the drive here. Poor kid was speaking to her supply cart, encouraging its spirit to keep going. Dineh people sense that everything, even a machine or wheeled tool, is animated by a spirit. It worked for her, as the cart did not get stuck in the snow.

Likewise, Sportage did not get stuck in the snow, which was fairly deep on the road out of Gallup, tapering off when I turned onto McKinley County Road 9, headed towards Crownpoint, the seat of the Eastern Navajo Agency. I drove steadily to Cuba, NM, and stopped for a breathtaking cup of hot green chili. This was real New Mexico chili, served up proudly, at Cuban Cafe, by Tia Sonya (not her real name)-who says “None of that foo-foo meat, beans and onions! You want chili here, you get the peppers in their own juice!” It is a fiery treat, especially on such a winter’s day. A BLT and hot coffee balanced out the fire. 

After gassing up, I left Cuba and encountered about fifteen miles of snow-packed road, on NM Route 96. Sportage took the challenge very easily, and by the time I came to the small village of Gallina, the road was covered with red mud and cinders, being dropped by a snowplow, with its blade up and the cinder bin open. I stayed behind the plow, which left the road once it was bare. Fortunately, the twists and turns near Abiquiu Lake were on the bare stretch of road. 

Now, I am at Ghost Ranch, which I briefly visited, two years ago. The team on which I will be working is made up of a wiry, well-seasoned gentleman, a few years my senior, who reminds me of my buddy Wes Hardin; a reticent, but pleasant, lady from Kansas; and a friendly couple from Kansas City, MO, who have served on the Winter Workforce a few times, already. It looks to be a light schedule, yet I am glad to be here and tap into the spiritual energy from the surrounding area. I am also glad there is WiFi, so as to let me share this week with all of you.

Sound and (Inner) Vision

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January 5, 2024- I walked into the Raven, to the middle and ending verses of Alanna Myles’ “Black Velvet”, itself the middle song in the second set of Fuzed’s initial outing. The band hasn’t been playing together long-and two of the artists playing tonight are listed on the band’s website as guests. It was magical, anyway.

The sound of a saxophone wailing, on a Friday night, is nothing unusual. Paul Ruffner, consummate saxophonist, is as accomplished on his instrument as any jazz musician in our area. He held his own, for 2 1/2 hours-no mean feat for anyone. Paul is blind, and as much a credit to the physically sightless as Ray Charles, Art Tatum or George Shearing were, on the piano or Stevie Wonder is, with his extraordinary voice. 

It is that inner vision that matters most-what those of us who are graced with 20/20 don’t recognize until we close our eyes in meditation, or experience in deep dreams. It is what Paul sees, 24/7. It is what he describes for the rest of us, with the wailing sound that comes from his horn-or the “Whoop! Whoop!” that comes from his diaphragm, at the end of a particularly rousing set. It is what he gives to the whole that is the promising new band, called Fuzed. It is what he gives to any one of several local bands on which he sits in-or when he performs solo at birthday parties- or when he shares his knowledge with up and coming young musicians.

We have only heard the beginning of Fuzed- and far from the last, from Paul Ruffner.

Here are two treats: Paul, doing “Cold Turkey” (no, not the John Lennon song, but the older jazz standard), followed by Stevie Wonder, doing “The Sunshine of My Life”-which Fuzed covered, this evening.

The Dells Called

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January 3, 2024- Spotting a fresh bear track, I gingerly peered into the small crevice, from six feet away. Sure enough, there was a juvenile black bear, its backside facing out. Bear was in hibernation, so my quiet steps quickly went up the trail, to the mesa top, in the heart of Granite Dells. The young couple who had joined me at Watson Lake Dam had gone on ahead, and the family of five who I had spoken with, ten minutes earlier, were also on their way back to the parking lot-so no one was likely to “poke the bear”, so to speak.

Lions and bears, but no tigers, are fairly expected in this unique area on Prescott’s northeast side. Usually, they are most active at night, or in early morning, so there is little chance of encountering them during my preferred winter hiking time, which is mid-day. I went here today, as my first hike of 2024. New Year’s Day just felt like a day to hang out in the apartment, so that’s what I did. Today, though, was the last nice day, before a stretch of winter precipitation-during which I will head to Ghost Ranch, after attending a farewell gathering for a couple of friends and helping out at Farmers Market. 

Here are some scenes from today’s hike.

Ever wonder what frozen algae looks like? This comes pretty close.

Still guarding the approach to Watson Lake Dam!

Heart rocks have been absent from my hikes for a while. Now, I am finding them again.

Two ducklings are making the best of the cold.

The sprawl of Granite Dells is one of its greatest allures.

This small dome requires a side hike, on the west side of the Dells.

One more heart rock, for the sake of love.

As I finish this post, snow has fallen in the neighbourhood, for the first time this winter.

Focuses Of An Eight Universal Year

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January 2, 2024- I gave thanks, yesterday, to all who bless my life by their presence, both seen and unseen, both close at hand and far away. An Eight Universal Year is a year of acting upon what one learns during its predecessor, which is a year of reflection. So, going forward, in 2024:

Ghost Ranch- Beginning Sunday, January 7, it will be time to build on what I learned from supervising a disaster response team in Watsonville, CA, last April, as well as from the camp supervisory experience at Bellemont Baha’i School, last June. This time, though, I will be one of those supervised and the emphasis will be on applying disaster response principles and camp supervision protocols, in a preparatory situation.

Phoenix Area-In early February, it will be time to visit with Baha’i friends in Phoenix and vicinity, and see how they are applying learnings from their recent visit to Brazil, in helping to grow more vibrant and co-operative communities.

Spring Break in southern Arizona- From March 11-15, it will be time to focus on what is happening in the border region, from Bisbee and Coronado National Monument, to Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, and the Tohono O’odham Nation. I want to visit with people who are impacted by what is going on there, and offer Baha’i principles to individual and group situations, as much as possible.

Prescott to Cape Breton, St. Pierre & Miquelon, and back, via the Northeast and Deep South- From April 29 (evening) to June 1-2, it will be time to re-connect with friends and family in the Midwest and Northeast, honour the Micmaq people, on the 50th Anniversary of the Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of Eskasoni, revisit friends in St. John’s and Grand Bank, NL, pay homage to the outpost of French and Breton culture in St. Pierre and Miquelon, and to the Blues culture/sacrifice of Emmitt Till, in Mississippi-also stopping to visit friends in Tennesse and Alabama.

Bellemont Baha’i School- From June 3-July 8, it will be time to focus on the summer camps that may be scheduled and on the needs of the campers and staff at our anchor property, west of Flagstaff.

Carson City and the Northwest- From July 12- August 1, it will be time to visit my extended family in Carson, and friends in Oregon, Washington and British Columbia, pay homage to Four Winds International Institute and to the First Nations of Vancouver Island, the Sunshine Coast of BC and the Yakima Nation.

The Philippines to East Africa- From September 7-21, it will be time to visit Baha’i friends and their families in Greater Manila, western Luzon, Iriga, and possibly Cagayan de Oro, on Mindanao. From September 22-November 1, it will be time to connect with Baha’i friends and their families in Kenya, northern Tanzania, Uganda, Mauritius, Reunion-and, hopefully, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. This last is not to be construed as a philanthropic effort, but an effort at strengthening cross-planetary (North America-Africa), and pan-oceanic (Philippines-Africa) networks.

Home Base 1- My efforts here remain to assist friends and community groups to continue building our own vibrant community. In spite of the appearances indicated by the above goals, much time and attention are to be devoted to Prescott and vicinity. There is plenty of time to be spent with Red Cross, Slow Food, Post 6, the local Baha’i community and friends around Yavapai County-so long as we are flexible with one another and not insisting that the wishes and goals of one person, or of a few, are to be adopted by everyone. (Friends in SoCal, Navajo-Hopi and Northern New Mexico, I will see you this year, as well).

In all this, my reasoning is that people appreciate actual time spent in their presence-whether here at Home Base 1, across North America, or across the globe. ’Abdu’l-Baha and my spirit guides assure me, on this, and that’s no “woo-woo”.

All My Relations

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January 1, 2024- Mother, who gave me life, and taught me how to love and live, may your time left on this plane be happy and satisfying, in the way you choose. I will see you in late Spring.

Brothers, both in blood and in spirit, I honour your lives, and am gratified that you honour mine. I may not do as you think I should, but know that my path is one of service-and, especially my brothers in the Home Base 1 community, know that I am not the only answer to your predicaments, or relief for your frustrations. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Lake Havasu, Flagstaff, Phoenix, Dinetah, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma, the Texas Panhandle, Oregon, Alaska, Toronto, Cape Breton and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sisters, both in blood and in spirit, I honour you lives and am gratified that you honour mine. I feel your love and support, and know that you will have the strength to face any fire, with resolve and dignity. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Bullhead City, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Oklahoma, Tennessee, South Dakota, Dinetah, Hopi, California, Colorado, Nevada, Oregon, British Columbia, Toronto, Cape Breton, Newfoundland, Bretagne, the Philippines (Bicol, Pasig and Palawan) and beyond, I support and honour your efforts, your strengths.

Sons and nephews, both in blood and in spirit, I honour the men you have become and hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You each have a Path of your own to follow, and I trust that Path will lead you to a place of honour, fruition and glory. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Texas, Lake Havasu, Yuma, Phoenix, Tucson, Santa Fe, San Diego, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Pennsylvania, the Philippines (Bicol, Cebu and Olongapo) and beyond, I treasure the men you have become or are becoming.

Daughters and nieces, in spirit, I honour the women you have become. I hope I have served, and continue to serve, as an example of how a man should treat women and girls, as an example of the Right Path, as humble and as inconsistent as that example has sometimes been. You are shining lights, each with a Path of your own to follow, independent of any man, yet perhaps walking in tandem with one of your own choosing. From Prescott and Yavapai County to Williams, Dinetah, Hopi, Texas, California, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, Colorado, Santa Fe, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Indiana, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Montreal, Jalisco, the Philippines (Paranaque and Manila) and beyond, I treasure the women you have become or are becoming.

Aunts and uncles, in blood and in spirit, I honour your examples and your untiring devotion to family and community. I only hope that I have acted in ways that have mostly brought honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Dinetah, Hopi, Tucson, New Mexico, California, Alaska, Wenatchee, and beyond, I treasure your love and support of your families.

Multitude of cousins, in blood and in spirit, I honour all that you have done, and will do, for the betterment of your families and communities. I hope I bring honour to your houses. From Massachusetts to Maine, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, New York, Missouri, Virginia, Florida, California, Colorado and beyond, I treasure your friendship and support.

My beloved new friend, I treasure the day you came into my life, and honour the path you have followed, the incredible woman you are, the family you have raised and the good you brought to your profession. I hope I bring dignity and honour to all the days of our friendship and that I am as much a blessing, and a credit, to you as you are to me. I regard your family as my own. May all goodness and well-being envelop your life in Greater Manila, or wherever you may go. See you soon.

Father, grandparents, my first True Love, youngest brother, parents-in-law and all departed relations, in blood and in spirit, you decorated my life, informed my character and continue in both respects. I feel your guidance from another Realm and hope that, by and large, I bring honour and dignity to your memory and your spiritual reality.

All my relations, you honour me, just by being.

The Trends of ’23

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December 31, 2023- The last day of the Gregorian calendar year brought my late parents-in-law together in matrimony, in 1948. That union brought Penny into this world, led me to the Baha’i Faith, made possible our marriage and the birth of our son, who has grown into a strong, well-grounded man. It has made possible my faith-based travels and activities here at Home Base. Although she is also gone now, Penny’s spirit and those of my other departed loved ones guide me to a higher level of action.

Nearly forty-three years after embracing the Teachings of Baha’u’llah, I was honoured to host a Spiritual Feast, last night, at which those present engaged in a fulsome consultation, which is the core purpose, along with devotions and fellowship, of the event. It was one of the best consultations in which I’ve ever participated. It signified the spirit of this past year, which was all about internal reflection and personal refinement.

Now, I look back at these past twelve months, and the overall trends and themes of its passage. Essentially, taking an attitude of self-confidence, I accepted a managerial role with the Red Cross, and thanks to a fine team, was able to help over eighty evacuees during a flood response, in Santa Cruz County, CA, in April. Working through those challenges, and overcoming hostility from a local business owner, led to what was, overall, a successful relief effort. I feel confident that I could replicate this effort, should the need arise again.

In July, a simple visit to a long-isolated fellow Baha’i brought her back into activity in her community. This, in turn, seems to be regenerating that community’s activities, as well as her own once-flagging self-confidence. It is what we can do for one another, and will result in a much stronger human race, “one brick at a time”. 

Here in Home Base 1, encouraging young people in their efforts has been a key focus of time and energy. Whether in classrooms, at the Farmers Market or in private conversations with a single mother, who is like a daughter to me, and taking a stand on her behalf, the fostering of rising generations has been probably the most rewarding of efforts. Being able to rise above, and resolve, other instances in which miscommunication has resulted in estrangement, has also been a reward of this past year.

My mother’s milestone birthday, this past September, while reminding me of the difficulty I have in communicating with her, long distance, also reflected the deeper bond between us, which transcends face-to-face meetings. She is still one of the seminal influences on my life.

The first extended travel outside the United States, in nearly ten years, brought some wondrous people into my life-one in particular. My Philippines experience has also imparted the confidence that I lacked, when visiting Europe in 2014, and has strengthened my voice, for what lies ahead-both on the return to that country, in September and visits to six other nations, across another ocean, later that month and nearly to November. That these are all Faith-based journeys does not negate my sense of personal responsibility, in their execution. In fact, living the Baha’i life entails, in the words of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, “walking the mystical path with practical feet.”

So does 2023 enter the realm of history, having already done so,in nearly half the world, and ready to do so, within the next thirteen hours, across the rest of Planet Earth. I am grateful for the personal lessons it has brought, am chastened by the physical and emotional destruction that nationalism, greed and fear have wrought, both in the U.S. and across over a dozen countries around the world and I am ready to work, as hard as necessary, to bring about a lasting peace, wherever 2024 takes me.

The Long Game

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December 29, 2023- I went to breakfast at a truck stop this morning, served by someone who came out with an interesting take on life: ”I work hard for my money, and I don’t want to take on any squatters.” The person mentioned paying down a mortgage, so there is a house in the picture. Those who earn their keep, in my view, have a legitimate claim to determining how their money is shared-including, to some extent, contributions to the tax rolls. Where we run into trouble is in not communicating to one and all, the concept that each of us is responsible to contribute to the common weal. There should be no layabouts, when others are working. There also should be no denying an able-bodied, willing worker a chance to contribute to said common weal. 

A few hours later, I went to a favourite establishment, in the same town, to get a plate of enchiladas, most of which has come back with me to Home Base, in the ongoing regimen of portion control. There was a new server on board, my surrogate daughter having decided to go back to college, with her husband’s support. The new lady had her children with her, as R always did. She showed the strength of the home and work juggler-managing to be server, cashier, busser- and mother. The regulars know this, and encourage her to keep on-at whatever pace she finds workable. Someday soon, her “tween” daughter will find this out as well.

These thoughts came back to me this evening, as I ponder a few relationships that have arisen, over the past few years. It is a childhood fantasy, that friendships sprout up and stay together, with little time elapsed or effort made to strengthen them. The first fantasy is a product of the brevity of a child’s life, up to that point. The second is usually corrected, with the tasks that need to be jointly done, even in fairly uncomplicated play. One who doesn’t do his/her part in the clean-up, at the end of the playtime, is shunned, sooner or later, by the others. Someone who is not trustworthy is figured out by playmates, and likewise finds a lot of alone time.

I have had a few lapses of judgment, and done what I could to make amends. I am willing to bet that we all have, at one point or another. There are no robots in this crowd. With my newer friends, one in particular, only time and consistency on my part will breed trust. It is with this acknowledgement, that the long game-frequent and clear communication, generosity of thought and action-and being present, both physically and mentally, over a period of years, is now in progress. These relationships are worth it. I hope yours also work well.

Refinement

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December 28, 2023, Moriarty, NM- I made a short visit to the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, at the south end of Santa Fe Plaza, before leaving town after a lunch at Creperie, in La Fonda Hotel. My visit focused on the Meditation Garden, sitting silently before the statue of the teenaged Mother Mary, and pondering how to properly go forth, in a refined state, on a certain matter. Statues are not spirits, of course, and an icon cannot proffer wisdom. There is, however, energy about-both that which was put into the casting or sculpting of the figure and that which emanates from the person or being who inspired the statue.

These last few days of 2023, and the first four months of the coming year, are largely about refinement- of my present friendships, of my household and of my activities in the community. Friends from whom I had felt estranged, over the past year or so, have reached out and asked me to visit them again. I have no reason to not do so. Another, far away physically, but ever on my mind, will be more the focus of a long game-with patience, thoughtful communication and, above all, unflagging respect for what she might be facing, day to day. 

The main focus of the day was a visit with a friend who is recovering from injury. I found her house fairly easily, and although it is in a rural area, off a dirt road-the road was graded and the dirt driveway represented no problem for Sportage, as the mud was frozen. My visit, to ascertain when I could best transport her to her winter home, led to two hours of conversation about affairs of our Faith. I will return, in mid-January, after a week-long work project, at Ghost Ranch, about an hour away form her home-and spend the latter part of the MLK Day weekend, with said transport.

I was able to drive here, to some friends’ establishment, and a large, comfortable room-as is usual at Lariat Motel. Tomorrow, after checking in on another of the young women I regard as daughters, I will head back to Home Base 1.

2024, in my view, will certainly be a year of action, following this past year of reflection. In my case, a lot of that reflection occurred while I was on my feet-so upcoming activities deserve to be done in a state of refinement. No bulls in this china shop!

Immersed

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December 27, 2023, Santa Fe- As I left my car this morning, to visit one of my favourite Santa Fe establishments, Henry and the Fish, a woman was strolling through the parking garage, singing Abba’s I Have A Dream. What a lovely start to the morning, I thought, and a rarity in American life! Joe and the kids will be on vacation, when I get back here in two weeks, en route to Ghost Ranch, so I’m glad to have visited HATF, this morning.

I’ve felt immersed in love, all in all, over the past few years, but at no time more so than in these last three months. It’s not just the romantic feelings I have for someone, but the general tide of love-from friends and family. This month has brought an estranged friend back into my life-and a realization that the estrangement would not have happened, had both of us communicated better. Isn’t that usually the case?

This evening, after exercising at Santa Fe’s Planet Fitness, I happened upon a Vietnamese restaurant, Pho Ava. I haven’t had pho in a while, so in I went. A number of the other guests were Filipinos, so I was transported back to Manila, in my mind. A pleasant random gesture was that, as a Filipino-American family was leaving, the father wished me a good evening-though we had not otherwise communicated. It’s been that sort of a visit, thus far. That, to me, is Santa Fe-ever a third or fourth Home Base, after Prescott, Grapevine-and Ocean Beach. The pho at Ava is excellent, if you are in Santa Fe and want a nice, large bowl of hot soup. (Pho Ava is in the 2400 South block of Cerrillos Road.)

Now, I will join a Full Moon meditation site, and get centered for tomorrow, which may or may not mean a drive up to Taos- depending on a friend’s situation. In the meantime, here’s that song that the lady in the garage was singing.

Single Digits and Hundreds of Petroglyphs

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December 26, 2023, Santa Fe- It was 6 F, about ten miles south of Chevelon Butte, along the road between Payson and Winslow, at 6:30, this morning. By the time I reached Winslow, the heat had kicked in and it was a balmy 21 F. Gallup offered 19 degrees and Albuquerque, 37.

Along the route, I saw two coyotes sprinting across the highway, between Stoneridge and Crossroads, in Prescott Valley and, much later, two pronghorns gamboling in the desert, just east of the Rio Puerco Casino, outside Albuquerque. Police were along the highways in force, especially in the early morning hours, when I was driving in darkness. Passing the upended hulk of a wrecked semi-trailer, I felt grateful for their presence.

The main focus of the day, though, was on petroglyphs, the communication medium of pre-writing societies, in many parts of the world. Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument, in the Duke City’s northwest corner, offers hundreds of descriptive figures, in three main clusters. The first, just south of the small Visitor Center, is Rinconada Canyon. This sector features a 2.2 mile loop trail, which took me about 45 minutes, a good part of which was spent noting the depicted animals and people.

West Mesa, at Petroglyph National Monument, Albuquerque.
Easternmost petroglyphs of Rinconada Canyon.
In the upper left hand corner, two beady eyes peer out from a small rock.
This collection reminded me of Newspaper Rock, south of Gallup.
The artists used pigment from plants, to add luster to some of their glyphs, chipping off the naturally-occurring lacquer and applying pigment to the bare stone underneath.
Two fish, a festal cup and a star adorn this rock.
This basalt ledge is one of many that served as a grinding table.
Spanish explorers added their art to the rocks. This “patriarchal” cross is one of many found in the West Mesa rock forest.
Here is an example of a figure that gives rise to speculation about extraterrestrial visitors. Puebloans caution against such speculation, saying we cannot know, for certain, what the ancients had in mind when these scenes were painted.

I went on, to Boca Negra (“Black Mouth”) Canyon. Here, there are three trails: The short Macaw Trail, the moderate Cliff Base and the “strenuous” Mesa Point Trail, which was easily climbed by a three-year-old girl, along with the rest of the group.

Mesa Point Trail:

At the base of Mesa Point, there is quite an assortment of figures.
Mesa Point’s own newspaper.
Looks like Gingerbread Man, with a robot t-shirt!

Here are scenes along Cliff Base Trail

Pupal scorpion?
“Greetings, future ones” ?
Fearsome mask?
One last newspaper clipping

I took a breather, to put gas in Sportage and fuel in my tank-at Which Wich, an innovative shop that uses a combination of technology and “check-off” paper bags, which the diner fills out and the attendant uses, in making the customized sandwich. 

Last, but not least, was Piedras Marcadas Canyon, which co-exists with several housing developments, yet seems a world away, once one is on the trail. There are two options here: Petroglyph View Trail, which goes directly to the scenes, and North Rim Trail, which goes to the top of the mesa-sans petroglyphs. I took the former route.

“Bob” couldn’t help himself. I’ve felt that way, but never given in to the carving impulse.
Here is a more “conventional” astrophysical image.
Finally, a “family” portrait.

There are many more scenes, which will be on my Flickr site, but you get the message(s).