Strat Fail

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February 4,2024- One can never tell about other people, each and every time they are encountered. Growing up, and into adulthood, several of my male friends operated on the premise: “She’s above your level” or “She’s in a different league.” I often wondered about very attractive girls and women, especially as to “Do they really see themselves as above certain guys?” There were a couple of snooty women, when I was in Community College, but I left them to themselves and pursued other friendships. 

Stratification tends to fail, in the long run. Each of us should be okay with choosing who we date, court and marry. Settling for anyone who comes along is not fair, either to self or to the one with whom one is “making do”. Neither, though, is being so selective that virtually no one can meet one’s criteria. I was plenty happy with my wife of 29 years, though neither of us were close to perfection. I was not expecting to meet Penny, when I did. I was not expecting to lose her to disease, either. Fast forward, 12.5 years, and I wasn’t expecting to meet K, a few months ago, but I did. Attraction sure is a funny thing, and it can lead to some beautiful results, so long as both parties keep things in perspective. The way in which relationships develop depends entirely on how much respect and compassion each person has for the other’s life experience.

These thoughts came into my mind, when I spoke with a young friend, who is like a daughter to me. Uncertain about her social life, and drifting along, she has fallen into a pattern of over-reacting to other people. In the few minutes she had to speak with me, I conveyed the message that she has first to see herself as worthy of respect and love. Men will pick up on where a woman is, in terms of self-esteem-and the wrong ones will take full advantage. It works that way, conversely, as well. Wreck-it-Ralph and Ravaging Rita are two sides of the same coin. There is, finally, the caveat about not assuming things about people, based on random observations. Generally speaking, one who is given to jumping to conclusions had better make sure the parkour skills are up to speed.

Yes, I Can See

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February 3, 2024-“Can’t you see, oh, can’t you see, what that woman, Lord, been doin’ to me”– Toy Caldwell, for The Marshall Tucker Band, 1973.

Women have not been doing things to me, ever. They have either done things with me, or, in a very few instances, against me-but not to me. Likewise, I can’t say I have ever done things to anyone, female or male. My mother has only offered love, guidance (sometimes harsh) and support (often masked as a hands-off approach, giving me room to grow). My sister by blood was my first friend, and is still one of my most fervent cheerleaders. My late wife, Penny, loved me with a passion, even through times when my ego was finding its footing, and I loved her back, even through-especially through-her fading last years. 

A vast army of female friends, some as sisters, others as daughters and nieces, have arisen to support me and walk by my side, in the years since I found myself on my own. Sisters, both older and younger, with names like Janet, Valerie, Vicki, Jean, Ylona, Norlie, Tammy,Jennifer, Leah, Christina, Jacque, JayLene, Melissa, Judy, Michele, Graciela, Ks, Susan, Pam, Debra, Akuura, Kathy McF, Laureen and Marcia; daughters and nieces, both of blood and of spirit, with names like Christy, Mariela, Jackie, Brittney, Christina, Annie, Yunhee, Melanie, Rebecca, Dawne, Marina and Casey-each have been steadfast friends. 

Walking with them, and with me, is my Beloved, someone who seems to have understood me from the day we met, four months ago, and with whom I feel a preternatural fit, much like I felt with Penny. I can’t express in words alone, how grateful I am for her presence in my life. I will love her, deeply, as long as I live on this Earth-and beyond.

So, with all due respect to Toy and the guys, women have only been a blessing in my world. Those few who have given me grief, and who are never going to be mentioned by name, on this blog site, have at least taught me to tighten up on my own behaviour.

Yes, I can see, and I love you all.

Past the Clouds

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February 1, 2024- Five people, clad in dark colours, were walking past my driveway, right as I was heading to work, this morning. I didn’t make a wide turn, thankfully, and kept on with the commute. There were a sizable number of people on the road, while it was still a bit early for rush hour. Being alert is never optional.

The clouds dissipated enough, as the sun rose, and the three classes I covered were pretty straightforward. In the third class, I had to rattle my brain a bit, to remember the right way of determining the area of a triangle, when given the lengths of two sides, and the top angle measure’s sine. That requires looking the sine up in a trigonometric table-which was fresh in the students’ minds, but had faded from my memory. Fortunately, they all just worked the assignment, while I quietly brushed up on it, in case I need to cover that class tomorrow.

Recalling that this year is one of not ducking challenges, I found self in a calm and happy mood, going back to Home Base. I later sat through a Red Cross meeting, at which I was not entirely welcome, and, with rain coming down in buckets, earlier this evening, sat out a potentially raucous community meeting. Being bold does not mean being intrusive, or reckless.

This brings me to the feelings that I have for someone who lives far away from here. The friendship is not something that will surge ahead, by leaps and bounds. It is something that will be built, carefully, with sensitivity and being supportive of the lady’s independence and personal sensibilities. 

Boldness and decisiveness do not dovetail with acting like the bull moose of the woods.

The Gem of Solitude

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January 30, 2024- I came upon the heart-shaped mineral, admiring its inherent sublime beauty. Picking it up, and feeling its smoothness, just for few minutes, gave me an appreciation of the heat, the pressure and the various cracks and separations that this piece of finery endured, over millennia, to arrive here, along Highland Nature Center’s Trail #4442. I noted that it has, underneath, a perfect heart-shaped indentation in the ground.

A quiet testimony to the love of the Universe

After placing the stone carefully back over its indentation, I thought of the value of solitude. What would I do, if everyone I cared about, including the woman I love most in this world, were to disappear from this life? What would I do, if they all decided they’d had enough, and left me on my own? I would be like the rock, still occupying my space and still reflecting the strength that the Divine has imparted into me. I would be ready for whatever came next.

As long as we draw breath, there is a purpose. As long as we have form, shape, solidity, there is a future. I went there, to Highland Center’s trail to Lynx Creek, having not been on it for several years, after another event was canceled, due to a scheduling conflict. The trail showed me the seemingly endless stretch of the Bradshaw Mountains, to the south and southeast.

Bradshaw Mountains, stretching south from Lynx Lake

After a stretch, I came to Lynx Creek, frozen on its surface, about a mile from the lake that was formed when it was dammed, in 1952. Of course, being Arizona, the ice is scarcely an inch thick.

Lynx Creek, at Highland Nature Center

Coming out of my reverie, I recognized that this morning of solitude was largely due to everyone else being busy with life, as I am myself, most days. My dearest, across the ocean, was asleep-and besides, she is in the midst of a very busy week. My friends here are likewise dealing with life’s happenings. I will be back in that regimen, myself, tomorrow and for the rest of 2024’s fifth week. Today, though, it is as if I have Planet Earth to myself-looking at the stretch of the Bradshaws, this morning and at the shimmering oak tree, in my neighbour’s front yard, as I write this piece.

Here is a gratuitous reminder of that regimen, from yesterday’s trip to Phoenix: The Arizona State Capitol.

The house with the copper dome

The Wider Net Cast

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January 29, 2024- There was nothing left behind, forgotten, when I finally got underway, taking a friend to Sky Harbor Airport, this morning. Much ground was covered, in terms of what is needed in order for humanity to understand self, for its members to understand themselves-and one another, for children to be truly honoured and understood and for the global plantation mentality to be overcome, transcended. I was set straight, that in this friend’s opinion, I had some serious work to do with regard to what I was willing to accept from children. In her view, everything that a child does needs to be accepted and understood. 

I will go with the understood part, but we can’t just accept destructive behaviour, no matter who is engaging in it. Children do appreciate guidance, having limits set and gentle models provided, by the adults in their lives.

As for the hierarchic mentality-whether we call it plantation, patriarchy or Fascist, the idea that some are inherently superior to others-the Hammond Doctrine, if you will, needs dismantling. There will always be some who have strengths in certain areas and less so in others. My dearest one is skilled in finances. I am fairly competent in that area, but I don’t hold a candle to her. My son is a whiz in technology and systems security. Again, I can maintain a modicum of computer safety, but that’s as far as that ship sails. Others are primo, athletically, artistically or scientifically. I am lucky if I hit a baseball or softball to the outfield, throw a football 30 yards or swim one lap, the length of an Olympic-sized pool-and then with my head underwater. I made a stone carving, a few weeks ago and fashioned it into a rough necklace-but it doesn’t look half bad. Just don’t ask me to draw a human or animal, freehand. At age 73, I can balance a chemical equation and probably figure out simple physics problems, but that’s the extent of it. As brother put it, my strength is in my heart. The point of all this is, each of us has strengths and flaws. So, none can inherently just assume the mantle of authority in all things. Hence, there ought be no hierarchy. It’s the collective, the sharing, that proffers strength.

I had the pleasure of seeing that my site has drawn a fair number of visitors from a nation, other than the United States, that is dear to my heart. A wider net was cast, and seems to be attracting those whose views I also value.

Flexible

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January 28, 2024- The account that a fellow Legionnaire gave, of his ailing wife’s situation, was achingly familiar. He has arrived at the conclusion that he needs to cultivate a hobby. I heartily concurred with him on that. When one has lived and loved one person, for so many years, it is hard to prepare to change course. It took me three long years to get myself together. Even afterward, there were times when brief relapses happened-but when an ill-wisher challenged my judgement, I knew I was over the hump. Blocking and deleting people who attacked me, after 2014, came a lot easier, as did bringing myself to serious account. A far more peaceful environment has been the result.

I am on the cusp of a life change, still in the realm of possibility, that would rest on flexibility. That, in turn, depends upon inner tranquility. The centered soul can be flexible, prioritizing the needs of the one(s) that are loved the most. That’s all I will say, for the time being. Great changes, like Penny’s illness and death (2003-11), the sale of our house (2011), and the sale of a second home, due to the vagaries of double taxation (2014) have come and gone. I have survived, because there are other things that I have had to do, and have yet to accomplish.

One thing that I have re-started is to walk to places that are within two miles of Home Base, unless time is tight, or the weather is just plain awful. Today, I walked to a friend’s restaurant, connected with a neighbour the next street over from me and watched a bit of a football playoff game, and walked back to HB 1, about an hour later. Exercise at Planet Fitness followed. It’s time to continue my fitness pattern. I can’t be a support to another human being, if I slack off in my own space. So, onward and upward, it is.

Centenary, and Remembrance

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January 27,2024- The grief-stricken woman told me, and bar staff, what had happened to a beloved family member, and relayed the seemingly nonchalant reaction of someone who had once told her that he was dependable. I shared with her about my own experiences, and the current state of my life. She was heartened by both what I had experienced taking care of my late wife, Penny, and by the present state of a new love in my life. As she broke down, and needed reassurance, I hugged her, and she wished me well with the rest of my life. When she left, we briefly discussed our own reactions to her story; D’s daughter agreeing with me that an undependable friend is no friend at all. I paid for my meal, and coffee, then headed back to Home Base 1.

I thought of Penny, and how no matter the level of difficulty with her condition, I would never have left her alone, or dismissed her pain. I stayed with her, until the end of her life, and would do so again and again. I think of the new love that has appeared in my life, and know that if she needed me to be by her side, post haste, I would be there, across the ocean, as quickly as humanly possible-and stay with her, for the duration.

Today, one of the most influential men I’ve ever had the honour of knowing would have turned 100 years of age. That he was the father of my first true love as an adult, and the treasured grandfather of our son was a bonus. Norman David Fellman was, more than these, much more. He was the living symbol of the Holocaust survivors-a Jewish soldier in the U.S. Army, in the final year of World War II. He was captured by the German Army, in the southern flank of the Battle of the Bulge, kept prisoner in Berga, in a special POW unit of Jewish-, Mexican- and Romani-Americans. He survived, and when found by the U.S. Army, 97 pounds clung to his 6’1″ frame. He thrived, attended college, decided to open his own shoe business, married his life-long sweetheart, sired Penny and adopted twin girls-raising all three to be strong women. He and my mother-in-law, Ruth, were married for 65 years, until his death in 2014. (Ruth survived him by four years.) They owned and ran a farm, which tided them over, when he sold his shoe business. They raised and rode Arabian horses, teaching all three girls-and me, how to ride, and care for, those wondrous beasts. Norm was a fixture in Veterans organizations, and even made a video of his experiences, which at one point aired on national television. It must have come very hard, but he made it his mission, to ensure that the experiences of those who kept freedom alive were not forgotten.

Likewise, International Holocaust Remembrance Day was established, in 1996, on this, the day of Norm’s birth. It was a fact that gave him great satisfaction, though like the gentleman he was, IHRD became more important to the day, than his own birthday. That this remembrance has continued, despite the noise and hasty judgement heaped upon all Jews, for the actions of a relative few among them, would be a point of pride, for Norm, Ruth and Penny, were they here among us still. He would fulminate, as only he could, against all those he saw as perpetrators of injustice.

I was all too glad to have been able to help a stranger in distress, to help finish a good friend’s move, earlier in the day and to give due homage to a great man. Let us never forget the Shoah!

The Blind Dancer, and Other Marvels

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January 26, 2024- He danced with his beloved woman, confidently in her arms and with a serene expression, as Galactogogues gave another rousing and stellar performance, this evening. Blind since birth, the gentleman is an accomplished musician in his own right, and a regular at Raven Cafe. He is one of many marvels of our town, in his instrumentality and in his dancing.

A couple who have had a hard life, and have stuck together for over forty years, are monitoring me, since we had a disagreement about something, two months ago. They seem almost saintly, in and of themselves, yet inquire of mutual friends about my well-being, or so I’m told. It is something of a marvel, that this is even important to them. My life is not all that prominent in Prescott.

My work day began with an expectation, on my part, that this would be a quiet day, working with Special Needs children. The school is understaffed, though, and it was no surprise when I was informed by the Office Manager that my day would be split: Morning, teaching Music and Afternoon with a First grade class. After a dicey start, I was able to get access to the computer and video, in time to teach three groups of children about rhythm and tempo, using rhythm sticks, whilst listening to varying speeds of a video-based tune. Of course, they liked the prestissimo the best.  The middle school choir was self-directed, which was fortunate, as the teacher had not left plans for their class period. 

After some sober assessment of the overall situation, the OM decided that I should have an hour break, at lunch, and had me teach one more music class, using the same plan. Then there was First Grade, reading the chapter of “Charlotte’s Web, in which Wilbur decides he wants to try to spin a web of his own. Wilbur, for the unitiated, is a pig. The old “when pigs can fly” quip pretty much gives an idea of what happened next. Charlotte rightly points out that, as a domesticated animal, he is fed by the farmer, and so, is not in need of a web. A spider, on the other hand, must fend for self. The children got the point, that they are cared for, but that many people have to fend for themselves. Charlotte also compares her web to a bridge that people build-and with that, we segued into the topic of bridges. The afternoon was delightful.

Just before attending the latter part of the Galactogues concert, I joined an hour-long devotional, discussing the topic of Resurrection. We Baha’is see it as spiritual rebirth, rather than full-on re-emergence of a physical body, from the dead. I have had several dreams , over the years since Penny died, in which she had come back alive and I felt the need to re-arrange my life to accommodate her renewed presence. Realizing, upon waking, that this was only a dream, and that she is in a good place, I came to understand that her spirit is in a constant state of renewal and advancement. Indeed, whilst sitting at her grave site, in early December, I got affirmation that her spirit is pleased with, and had involvement in, my new friendship with another woman. I think that, as one of my primary spirit guides, Penny has made sure that I have all manner of friends, of both genders. One’s spiritual progress, after death, is probably the greatest of marvels.

Restoration

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January 23, 2024- Sportage came back, this afternoon, good as new.           The black Corolla did its job, over the past four days, and has gone back to Rental Land.   My bathroom is far more spacious, relatively speaking, with excess items ready to go to the Thrift Store, or to the PASS collection point, tomorrow.                   My Nana’s family-parents and siblings-are shown with her as a 17-year-old, and Great-Nana, who was 1/4 Penobscot, in her 40s. It’s the first time I’ve seen the thirteen Gallant children with their parents. The restoration of our family tree is a long work in progress.         A friend is concerned about the course of life, once career is over and family has been raised. There needn’t be any worry. Once retirement has been announced, the community finds things for one to do, and if they don’t, then family will certainly have some ideas on the matter.

We are ever in a cycle of progress, stasis, decline and restoration. Refinement of attributes is a lifelong process and while we are readying ourselves for a spiritual journey, part of that is a big chunk of energy, spent living in Earth time. It doesn’t necessarily end with retirement-and definitely doesn’t end when the children become adults.

Progress, stasis, decline, restoration.

The Spirit Moves

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January 22, 2024- A friend at the coffee klatsch, this morning, casually mentioned that she was moving from one building to another, within the Senior apartment complex. This was two days after I had helped another woman, also like a sister to me, move some of her belongings to a larger house. 

January is a month of new beginnings, yet it is not, customarily, a time for moving, given that cold weather and precipitation abound-across most of the North American continent. This year, however, is one of actionable change, and moving is often part of that process. 

I received a “wink, wink, nudge, nudge” post on social media, last night, showing a set of attractive and affordable apartments, in another location. While someone, about whom I care deeply, lives in that place, I have no plans to relocate, this year. Also, it is a matter that this person and I would need to discuss, fully and calmly, before deciding whether one of us, or both of us, would pack up and go elsewhere. That will likely occupy the rest of this year-but who knows?

Another person for whom I care deeply is making initial, and solid, progress in dealing with a health concern. I was very glad to hear specifics on that matter, earlier today. This, and the above-mentioned, are as much spiritual journeys as physical and pecuniary ones. We are each stepping into the unknown, and following our hearts as well as our minds-trusting in a Higher Power.

I am, while anchored at Home Base 1, resuming my taking stock of household inventory. Checking the cabinet that held sheets and towels, I found that 90 % of what was in that container was excessive. It was one of the last parts of my household that was mostly left over from when Penny was alive. So, a fair amount went to a woman with a large extended family, this evening, and the rest will go to a shelter collection drive, tomorrow morning. Other items that have outlived their usefulness, or that no longer reflect the person I have become, will also go to Thrift Store shelves, tomorrow.

I have no way of predicting how my life, or anyone else’s, will look, in December of this year, but the Spirit is moving mountains-and hearts.