October 5, 2023- So asked the little boy, as he tried to wiggle out of his car seat, with the door open, while he waited for his mother to return to the car. I saw my immediate task as making sure he did not manage to fall out of the car. So, my short answer was that I was a helper, whose job was to keep the children safe. That gave him something to ponder-and Mom came back a minute or so later.
Exactly what any of us are, is more spiritual than physical. We are spiritual beings having a physical experience. The physical body is a vessel, that lets us practice and develop spiritual attributes and resist, shed, those limitations borne of insecurity: Lust, greed, fear, rage, insincerity, envy-all that keep us down.
I am, essentially, a spirit living the life of a male human-and glad for every bit of it. That’s how I see myself. How the child mentioned above might see me is an entirely different matter-and based on my Dad’s contention that what people think of me is none of my business, a superfluous one at that. I would safeguard him, or any other child, as the need arises.
October 4, 2023- When I closed my eyes at this evening’s prayer meeting, I saw a cabin in the woods, with soft, multicoloured lighting outside. After a few more prayers were said, I closed my eyes in reverence again, and saw the dungeon where Baha’u’llah was imprisoned for four months, in 1852. The full meaning of these visions could play out, in terms of my being physically-present in those locations, at some point, or there could be some related meaning, that pertains to something else in my life.
Messages can have “one and seventy meanings”, according to any number of spiritual traditions, including the Teachings of Christ, and those of Baha’u’llah- Who goes further, ascribing such a distinction to every written word in Scripture. Indeed, any time I get an inspirational message about how to spend a day, where to work and where to visit, it takes some contemplation, beforehand and along the course of the day, to be sure that I am maintaining the intended course of action,
The message that came to me, three weeks ago, to accept this week’s work assignment, was very clear: “Do your level best for the two children who will be your primary focus, while also helping with anyone else who needs attention, especially if the classroom teacher is busy elsewhere or is overwhelmed.” This has prepared me for a few instances, such as lunch time, when there has been shortness of staff and I found myself serving as an adhoc monitor. It also falls into my long-held view that every educator in an institution of learning is responsible, to a degree, for the well-being of every student in that environment.
The message that came to me, back in May, regarding my journey to southeast Asia, was to focus strictly on the Philippines-that a longer journey to the region, involving more nations, would happen in a few years. Such guidance can always change, as situations evolve in various aspects of my life and in the wider world. Yes, the dynamics of aging and health are among those aspects-but for now, that part of my life is not fraught with issues. I have three focuses for the upcoming trip: Visiting a sponsored youth, connecting with the Baha’is and a few other friends, and paying homage to those who died at Bataan and Corregidor, as well as to Jose Rizal and,if time allows, Lapu-Lapu, whom I regard as a figure little known in the West-but every bit as important to history as the great chiefs of North America’s First Nations.
Over the next few days, I may receive further insight regarding the matter, but for now, the message is to focus on the children and correct an oversight on a financial matter, relative to health care I received one and two years ago.
October 2, 2023- Since the early 2000s, one of my favourite inspirational stories has been “October Sky”, a film adapted from the memoir, “Rocket Boys”. The account of West Virginia coal town youths, inspired by Sputnik I to build rockets of their own, with the support of their high school teachers and principal-and gradually earning the respect of their families, shows that each and every community can produce leaders of thought and invention.
I am working, this week, with a pair of boys who are identified as having special needs. One functions at a basic level; the other, is seen by his peers as a leader and is vibrant and inventive, far beyond his apparent weakness. He will, with strong support, like what he has from his present teacher, rise to enormous heights.
The mind is a superbly equipped vehicle for transcending even the most harrowing disabilities. Penny showed that, in 2006-9, by earning her third Master’s Degree, after being discounted by a far inferior individual-her last supervising principal. Her example has sustained my belief in the human spirit, and will be in my heart, as I meet in two weeks, with a young man I have sponsored for several years, through an international child advocacy agency. He is dedicated to achieving high honours academically and going on to be a credit to his family and community.
I have encountered many such people, across the United States, Canada and western Europe, since 2012. Encouraging them, even in brief encounters and in small ways, has been hugely rewarding. As the scope of my journeys expands, between now and January, 2029, and ongoing contact via Zoom and other virtual means continues, I hope to be able to impart stories of many other rising stars.
October 1, 2023- The air is supposed to be chill, tonight and tomorrow, followed, later in the week, by a few days of AUG-tober. Then the silly weather will subside, and we may expect that Home Base-Prescott, and hereabouts, will have a more conventional tenth month.
I will be at work, all week, helping two special needs children at a nearby elementary school. There will be other events awaiting in the evenings: Ecstatic dance (online), which I can join for an hour or so; a Healing Devotional; a Red Cross meeting; the tail-end of a Study Circle that I have been facilitating; and another early evening devotional. Saturday will see a Harvest Festival, as well as regular service activities.
Then comes the fourth journey of 2023- The Philippines, by way of California and Taiwan. More details will be shared, as the sojourn unfolds. Long story short, it will dominate October, and take me away from service activities here. This bothers some people, but my life has been about following messages from my spirit guides. Sometimes, that has meant staying in one place and being fastidious in meeting the needs of a few. Since 2011, though, it has meant being willing to go to certain places, connect with specific people and perform designated functions, from running Red Cross shelters here and there, to keeping children safe on Halloween, serving dinner to homeless people and sponsoring a child or two, in disadvantaged communities.
One such youth will be a focus of my time in the Philippines. Faith-based activities will take up much of the rest of my time there. My biggest hope is that a bond between Prescott and those blessed islands may be forged.
November and December will bring more work around here, holidays spent with family(Thanksgiving) and friends (Christmas and New Year’s) and another trip around the Sun completed. The Fourth Quarter is never dull-stay tuned.
September 30, 2023- The duo paid no mind to the wind that, off and on, gusted through the patio and blew a paper, a napkin or a ball cap away from its owner. The Bourbon Knights, at least the two remaining members, were too busy cranking out solid, vintage rock, to pay attention to such a mundane phenom as wind.
Their preference was playing the classic tunes of The Who, and when they got into the late riffs on “Baba O’Riley”, I half expected to see one of them break into an imitation of Pete Townshend’s Kazotsky kick. Alas, too much of their signature drink had found its way down their gullets, and they were content with their musical offerings, which remained solid. They also ranged from Stevie Nicks to Tom Petty.
This was the wild part of the evening at Rafter Eleven, where I went to close out the bittersweet month of September. Today would have been Penny’s 69th birthday, and true to form, not only one, but two Baha’i events got my attention, back to back. The Worldwide Celebration of Unity, of which I have written before, has taken its place in my Saturday morning routine. Only when I am not in a place where WiFi is accessible, do I beg off the task of co-hosting. The other event, which followed straightaway, was the annual Unit Convention, where Baha’is living in a designated area meet to elect a delegate to the National Convention, set for the following Spring, and consult about issues of import to the region and to the national community. I feel fortunate that the first event was able to be held at the Convention site, courtesy of the electoral tellers, who let me use their meeting room. Penny’s spirit, and my other ethereal guides, see to it that what needs to be done, finds a way.
A woolery is a place where the heavy cloth may be spun, carded and woven into the heavy cloth that is so comforting in cold weather. Our spiritual woolery is the Source of the guidance that comes from following those Spiritual Teachings that afford us protection, in the cold of challenges, tests and setbacks that are so commonly experienced in this life. So it was, both physically and emotionally chilly, at different times today, giving me reason to wear a woolen jacket, given me as a thank-you, by a once homeless man, who I helped for a time, nine years ago-and to seek solace in the Teachings of Baha’u’llah, when feeling the annoyance of people I normally help on Saturdays, who were left on their own today.
The day, and the month, ended well though. Even the country got a breather, from the political clashes that have played out, these past several weeks.
Here, for the curious, are The Who, and “Baba O’Riley”, though sans Kazotsky.
September 29, 2023- A cheerful voice, when my early morning call was answered, reassured me that the birthday lady was already having a fine day. Her daughters were on their way to the dream home.
She was, as I’ve said before, my first friend and a parallel traveler, visiting many of the same places as I, though usually before or after-and very often in a more focused manner. Among our shared likes, in terms of places to visit: Bar Harbor/Acadia National Park; Hilton Head Island; Plattsburgh, NY. I will stop in the first one, on the way back from Atlantic Canada, next May-it’s been too long since my last Bar Harbor sojourn. One can never tell about Hilton Head, but it won’t be all that far in the future. Both she and I visited Grandma’s hometown of Plattsburgh, in separate trips, five years ago.
Sis has raised three daughters and a son to stand on their own feet. Eight grandchildren, each a success story in their own right, have their maternal grandparents to back them up,both directly, through their personal bonds and their having raised the kids’ parents in a consistent, loving manner.
She has, most importantly, survived and overcome each personal challenge-and there have been many. A keen native intelligence, a loving heart and a deep well of fortitude have kept my sister going. Her steadfast husband and intensely devoted family have added strength.
She inspires me, with every step she takes. May it long continue to be thus.
September 26, 2023- Seven groups of students, some duos, trios and quartets, cheerfully performed what they knew, of the beginning chords to “Good King Wenceslaus” (It’s not too soon to start practicing!), “Mary Had A Little Lamb”, “Seven Nation Army”, “Toboggan Run” and “Two Bach Psalms”; even “Happy Birthday” had its opening notes offered by a soloist.
I am one of those advocates who hold that there is no bad music, painting, pottery or poetry-when offered by a child. Other adults, whose only frame of reference is their own grown-up experience, may beg to differ-or say that not criticizing mistakes is a form of enabling. Rubbish! A person learns by doing, especially in the arts.
This was one of the most enjoyable school days I’ve had in some time, which is saying a lot. We were given a work packet, on musical math, but that took scant time to complete. Then, it was time to go forward and practice-the one thing that builds strength in artistry. Being one who, to this day, is illiterate musically, I will do all I can to encourage young people to learn to read music-and stretch their skills in its expression.
I look forward to attending their Christmas concert-and its Spring equivalent.
September 22, 2023- It seemed the interior lights were stuck on and visions of a dead car battery floated in front of me. I headed to work anyway, with a TPM light also pinging on, as the SUV rounded the corner on Pleasant Street. Earlier, other indicators of dearth appeared, on my e-mail serve. The message that I got was “Carry on, and be patient. Solutions to these piddly matters will come, after your day with the children is done.” So it was-tire pressure issue was resolved first, then the lights were found to be due to the overhead switch having been hit, inadvertently. There was no dead battery in the offing.
Hurdles come to us, whether one is rested or tired, insightful or insipid, calm or rattled. Like anything else, what we do with them is a measure of judgement and character. There was a time in my life when the slightest hiccup assumed great urgency. You can pretty much figure out how effective my problem-solving skills were at that time.
I mention this primarily because, in teaching developmentally disabled children, as I was today, the greatest gift we can impart to them is how not to be rattled by frustration or delayed gratification. The brighter a developmentally-delayed person is, the more the challenges posed by those circumstances. ,
On this day, in the little classroom, four of us were pretty much one-on-one-and it worked out all for the best. There were no major meltdowns, for which the regular staff were grateful and the children actually showed retention of a skill or two-things that are not possible, if there were any kind of tension.
The catered meal, of Cajun food, was also all for the best-perhaps too much so. Oh well, I have the weekend to work it off.
September 18, 2023, De Queen, AR- “Sit wherever you want, hun. What can I get you to drink, my love?” Each person who came into Huddle House, in Corinth, this morning was greeted thus endearingly by the lead server, Ryanne- and what better way is there to start a Monday morning? She recounted to me, at table, that her morning had not exactly been a time of sweetness and light. She was not, however, about to let before-work woes ruin her day at the diner, or anyone else’s. As she worked, calls came that conveyed the message that solutions to the mishaps were in progress. I get the sense that her attitude towards life generates such positive outcomes.
The next stop, on a horseshoe-shaped ramble, was Tupelo- birthplace of Elvis Presley. Though I did not make a stop at the King’s boyhood home, getting the ambiance of the place and a sense of how it affected his musical trajectory came from stops in downtown and at Ballard Park, in midtown Tupelo. There is a tolerance of individuality in Tupelo- borne out by the boutique, Main Attraction, where I purchased a latte from a flamboyant, but rather soft-spoken entrepreneur- whose main wares were women’s clothing and New Age items, such as Buddha tea mugs and incense burners. There was also this mural, honouring the spirit of the region’s indigenous Chickasaw people.
Mural in downtown Tupelo
There are scattered memorials to the area’s Confederate dead, but these are tempered by acknowledgement of the contributions of African-Americans, including this marker at Tupelo National Battlefield. The battle that took place there, in 1862, set the way for both the Federal occupation of Vicksburg and Sherman’s March to the Sea, by disrupting Confederate supply lines.
Honouring the brigade of United States Colored Troops, for its efforts at the Battle of Tupelo.
The Lee County Courthouse, like others in mid-sized southern towns, has its dome. This construction feature is designed to convey the majesty of law. That majesty has come hard, only gradually overcoming the resistance of many residents to a more inclusive community ethos.
Lee County Courthouse, Tupelo
The Deep South is changing, though, and I felt only welcome and conviviality on this initial swing through the heartland of the Civil Rights struggle. Ballard Park, where a lone Hispanic woman was jogging while pushing her infant in a stroller and feeding the gaggles of Canadian geese that dominate the south shore of the lake, is a case in point.
South Shore of Ballard Lake, Tupelo.
At some point in the not-too-distant future, I will make a music-centered return visit, and the actual Elvis Presley Lake, as well as his boyhood home, will be part of that itinerary. There is resistance in the Universe to my being on the road, though, epitomized by the current financial downturn, so I have to be patient and perhaps focus more on working, to rebuild my nest egg. A lot of people have goals that face similar straits; yet on we go.
Despite having those thoughts, the road continued-to Philadelphia, MS, scene of the murders of three Civil Rights activists, in the “Freedom Summer” of 1964. At that time in my life, a revulsion towards authoritarian Communism existed side by side with an equally strong conviction that African-Americans were being grossly denied full citizenship, especially in the South, but also in my hometown, north of Boston, where few Black people were allowed to live, at the time. Debates on the subject were civil, yet I was regarded as somewhat naive in “the way life really is”. How times have changed!
I felt a rather dark energy, approaching Philadelphia. It was almost as if the ghosts of the murdered were trying to communicate. When I got to downtown, and parked my vehicle, beginning a short stroll, I was greeted warmly by a well-dressed gentleman, who somehow recognized me from who knows where. He shortly went about his business, and I made note of Neshoba County Courthouse, and the water tower that draws from a reservoir near where the three men were buried. Downtown, for the most part, was quiet.
Downtown Philadelphia, MSNeshoba County Courthouse, Philadelphia, MS.
Headed out of town, towards Jackson, I found myself behind several school buses. One of them led the way, for about eight miles, and I noticed rambunctious behaviour through the opaque rear window, similar to the shenanigans of countless children and youth, the world over.
It was also quitting time in the state capital, so when I got to the seat of Mississippi state government, I had a “state business only” streetside parking space to myself-for five minutes, under the watchful eye of a Capitol Police Officer. Here, then, are the Mississippi Capitol and a nearby First Baptist Church.
South side of Mississsippi State Capitol, JacksonFirst Baptist Church, Capitol Hill, Jackson
The road west and north passed a sizable back-up, across I-20, near Tallulah, LA, where I stopped for dinner and heard details of the overturned truck, from another driver who witnessed the rollover. Leaving the Interstate, just shy of Shreveport, my memory of map study when I was a teenager and young adult came in handy-and up through Springhill, into Arkansas, it was. I passed through the place called Hope, in which Bill Clinton still believed, on the night of his election to the Presidency, in 1992. Respite, though, has come, at the Palace Hotel, in this little town of De Queen, just shy of the Oklahoma border. I was the last guest checked in for the night, before the clerk decided he’d had enough, and locked the office door.
The Universe may be resistant, in some ways, but there are plenty in it, who are looking out for me.
September 17, 2023, Corinth, MS- A small boy asked his father- “Daddy, which one is harder for you, Needle’s Eye or Fat Man’s Squeeze?” The man was not all that “Dad Bod”, but gamely replied “the Squeeze”. I found neither one to be problematic, while remembering that, had I visited Rock City a year ago, both would have been difficult.
The late J.R.Cline recommended Lookout Mountain in general, and Rock City in particular, a few years back, when I was visiting friends in east Tennessee. He and his family loved the place. After spending a couple of hours there, I can readily see why. Rock City was opened to the public in 1932, when Garnet and Frieda Carter first wanted to share their unique property with the world. The place gives Disney World a run for its money-and at a fraction of the price.
It’s all about imagination, with the rocks-and folkloric art, fueling the whimsy for kids of all ages.
Here are seven photographs, out of the several dozen taken today, that offer a sense of what the Cline family, and thousands of others from across the globe, have come to treasure.
Grand CorridorNo camel could get through this one.High Falls (Above and below)Hall of the Mountain KingIn Fairyland Caverns, many creatures await.Everything is just right.
After this, I found it enjoyable to tool around, along the byways of the southern Cumberland Plateau-not stopping to photograph, as the camera needed a rest and a charge, but seeing J.R.’s “Golden Loop”, as he might have. The area between Childersburg, Alabama and Knoxville was his paradise.
Come sleepy time, I found this northeast corner of Mississippi, and the Southern Motel. For the first time in many years, all the rooms have ashtrays-but my room is not bad, scent-wise, so one night will be okay.
A Sagittarian Seeker 