Category Archives: Inspiration

The Stretchable Heart

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 25, 2023- The skin covering my hand drum has shrunken back and separated from two of the connector strings. The supreme gentleman who gifted me this drum, two years ago, has graciously taken it back for repair. This is one of many acts of kindness, both musical and in food production, that he has done over the years. I daresay this friend’s heart is as stretchable as he wants the drum skin to be.

A long absent friend sat across from me, in the cozy coffee shop, detailing the plans she, her husband and some well-heeled contacts have for establishing a retreat for First Responders to recover from Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, as well as for the study of that affliction. She knows the matter well, having survived a national tragedy, directly, several years ago. Her heart is as stretchable as the area she sees as the homaticme of their dream’s work.

A scant seven weeks from now, a couple who have served the Divine, selflessly, for over thirty years, will host their eleventh annual festival of community service, especially for the homeless and disabled veterans. Having lost two sons to the ravages of war, they continue to not be bound by the burden, instead putting their energies outward, to help those whose needs are more immediately tangible. Their hearts, individual and collective soar towards the Presence they so revere.

Is it not the most worthy of goals, for the heart to be stretchable?

Intensity

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Entertainment, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 24, 2023- The day started in earnest, right around 8 a.m., with a quick visit to Farmer’s Market-stocking up on microgreens for the week and getting two bulbs of garlic and some flowers for a friend’s birthday dinner, later in the day. Running out of cash and tokens, I gave one bulb back to the farmer, then went back to HB, catching a half hour or so of the Celebration of Unity Zoom call.

Next, it was off to a Red Cross Blood Drive, where my role was to staff the registration table-checking people in and making sure they had completed all preliminaries, prior to their donation. This was a fairly busy five hours, and I felt successful and bushed at the end.

After changing clothes and leaving my Red Cross “uniform” at the apartment, it was off to a Farmer’s Market volunteer appreciation gathering, at a salubrious Willow Lake ramada. I was still a bit tired, heading up there, and briefly inconvenienced a tow truck driver, at an intersection. He got in his protest, and that was all. I do my level best, most of the time, on the road, but never will claim perfection. The gathering was exactly what I needed, after an intense work shift, and the company of young mothers and children afforded a unique and most essential take on our collective life.

Finally, after a run to Costco, to replenish the supply of flavoured water for upcoming gatherings of children and adolescents, it was time for the aforementioned birthday party. Four of us enjoyed fresh salad, vegan chili and fresh cherries, covering a wide range of topics in conversation. Wild animals in our midst, the right and responsibility of adults to conduct their own affairs and associating with people with whom we disagree were all covered amiably.

After the intensity of the day, I gladly relaxed at HB, viewing a light episode of a streamed program, then turned out the lights. Tomorrow could be just as intense, if I let it be. I think, though, that won’t be how it turns out.

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“What Would They Want For You Now?”

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 23, 2023- A group of about two dozen young men walked into a Los Angeles session that offered poetry and meditation, to address social dysfunction. One by one, the men spoke to the three “experts”, saying that all this philosophy was good on its face, but that the reality they faced each day was far more ominous- 9 mm weapons pointed at them, suspicious police tailing and stopping them, food deserts, joblessness, and so on. Besides, the men said, they knew too many of their peers who had been slain on the streets, in the past year.

The experts wisely acknowledged that there were too many souls who hadn’t been honoured, so they asked each of the men to go outside and gather up a stone, for each person they knew, who had been killed in the last year. After several minutes, the men came back inside, each carrying many rocks. They sat down, a candle was lit and placed in the center of the circle, and each person was asked to give a name to each of the stones. He was then to say the name of the victim, and place the stone next to the candle. This continued, until all the stones were set around the candle, honouring each of the murder victims.

Jack Kornfield, a social psychologist, and author of “A Path With Heart”, which helped me so much, in the early stages of grief, in 2011, was one of the “experts”. He posed a question to the men: “What would they want for you now?” One by one, the members addressed that question, in a pensive and serious manner.

As I listened to this presentation, I thought of Dad, Penny, Brian, my in-laws, grandparents, aunts and uncles, even the most rambunctious of my cousins. I think they would want me to know peace, to have arrived at self-acceptance and to keep on in the path of service. Each of them sacrificed, in one way or another, that the world they left behind might be a better place. Friends, like John H., Deedee B., Donna G., Sean W., Mario M., even Frankie Q., would want me to be doubly sure that the person inside this frame was jettisoning the baggage that held me back, for so long.

I have to want the same for myself-and believe me, it is happening-slowly, but steadily.

He Did So

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 22, 2023-The night I came home, inebriated after a party at work, Mother was waiting in the dark. She asked me what time I thought it was, and after my saying it was Midnight, I learned it was 2 a.m. Dad, as it happened was down cellar, doing some work, and came when called. I had already gotten a “Pow in the kisser” by the time he got upstairs. He told me what he thought of me, and it wasn’t anything complimentary, but it wasn’t profane, either.

I think my father stopped using corporal punishment when I was about eight, and even before that, I only remember him spanking me once. As for telling us what he wanted done, it was mainly by force of example. When I was expected to be out in the yard, shoveling dirt or putting rocks in the wheelbarrow, and dumping them along the edge of the marsh across the street, he was already outside determining what area was mine to work, what area was Cheryl’s and, after a few years, what area was to be worked by David. Dad always did the heavy lifting, and built the fire underneath the large boulders, then sprayed them with cold water and took the sledge hammer, to break them up.

When a medical emergency came, for one of my siblings, it was he who flew up and down the stairs, throwing items necessary for an overnight stay, into a cloth bag, then carrying the hurting child downstairs and to the car, while I had my arms around Mom and Sis. He took care of all such crises, as best he could-and it was always good enough, in my book.

Dad applied himself to his work, just as much, though his heart was with us, always. His gift of gab let the time get away from him, when out on errands, but he always made up for it to Mom, with a quality night out or an occasional weekend away, as we got older. He would have choked at the term “Date Night”. Dates, for people of my parents’ generation, stopped at the altar. Thenceforth, it was “our night out”, and either Cheryl, one of our cousins or I minded the younger kids.

What he wanted done, he did as an example-and we were never confused as to how to go about it. That all stopped, thirty-seven years ago today. Thankfully, the road maps left for us are still clear. His image and voice are,as well.

Solstice Notes

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 21, 2023- The woman I briefly encountered, yesterday, insisted that solstice was another form of equinox-and that there were four days per year, in which the amount of light was equal to that of darkness. Unable to convince her otherwise, I went about my other business. I hope she figures it out by December.

For the rest of us, Solstice was a day of fair celebration. Atop Solstice Mesa, many were gathered, with three barbecue parties going on, when I reached the top carrying my drum. I quietly tapped on old Bear, while gazing at the sunset.

Of course, the conversation among the group members was about the bear which mauled and killed a man, south of town, last Friday. I had met the gentleman once,about two years ago, whilst helping his neighbours, who have since moved into town. This was not the case of a rabid animal, and it appeared to have been otherwise healthy-just somehow deranged. Witnesses say the man was minding his own business and the bear caught him from behind.

Another conversation took place earlier, on the topic of intentional communities. These have been cropping up, all over the country, somewhat in reaction to the proliferation of housing units owned by Private Equity firms, which have no compunction about pricing housing out of reach of a good many people-singles and families alike. Intentional communities exist in Arizona. I know one small IC, whose residents were once friends of mine, but have seemingly closed themselves off from many of us. There are larger ICs, with one of the most famous being in the far northeast corner of Washington State. They have some similarity to the communes of the ’60s and ’70s, but there is a structure and purpose to their operation, thus the “Intentional” part of the name. See http://www.ic.org.

My chiropractor has found that spine and musculature are in vastly improved condition. He credits my activity-and the lost weight. I know how to maintain both now, so the check-ups will be every six weeks, rather than monthly. A set of medical lab tests, tomorrow, will hopefully offer further affirmation.

We now all await the monsoon season-with the forecast calling for two more weeks of dry heat, followed by a build-up of humidity and moisture, starting July 5. That is quite standard. I will be around, at any rate.

What Spring Sprung

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 20, 2023- I had lunch with a good friend, in a restaurant run by another good friend. This was the high point of a day that was intentionally low key. I needed to regroup, after the intensity of the camps and yesterday’s clean-up, and spending an hour or so with Akuura was a good way to relax. It’s been a while, due to my being busy with camp, so we covered a lot of ground. Emileigh, as always, was solicitous, while being low key-just a delightful young lady.

That brings me to the whole matter of “friend” vs. “acquaintance”. In tonight’s Zoom call, a session of the ongoing “Copper 2 Gold” series on Race Unity, a few people made a strong case for being discerning, in using the term “friend”. I have a different take. I consider people friends, even if we barely know one another, if I sense that they have my best interests at heart, and are kind, overall, to other people as well. “Acquaintance” is a term with which I have a hard time, mainly because people I trusted, in the past, have referred to me as such, in a standoffish and negative way. Having felt like an outsider, too often in the past, I use the term in my own speech to refer to those I meet once or twice, like a clerk in a store that I don’t frequent.

Spring has come to an end, and with it, the academic year of 2022-23; the Bellemont camp season; my tenure as Study Circle Coordinator, in Prescott Cluster (area)- a Baha’i volunteer position, which rotates every five or six years; and the intense phase of my weight reduction program (202-38= 164). What Spring sprung was a keener sense of self-worth and a better ability to help others, without putting myself behind the Eight Ball.

Now comes summer-much of it to be spent here at Home Base, or within a day’s drive. It’ll be refreshing to be around for the Fourth of July and another friend’s milestone birthday. Of course, a drive up north will take up two weeks in the latter part of July and the end of summer will find me back east, for Mom’s latest milestone. In between, barring Red Cross emergencies, I will be here in the place that the gracious Divine has set aside for my well-being.

Paternal Love

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Posted by on in Assistance, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 18, 2023- Dad taught each of his four children who were of sound mind the basics of automobile maintenance, the basics of responsibility and the basics of getting along with others. A work ethic was instilled in each of us, and each of us holds on to that, to this day. He held us to fairly high standard-and any lapse in conduct, once he taught us, was on the individual child. He played no favourites- and I, as the oldest although the most troubled, was not cut any slack. It was no fault of his, when I made bad choices-and it was only fortunate that no one was hurt by those choices, except me.

Dad’s demeanor was steady, and while his manners were those of the blue collar French-Canadian family in which he grew up, he was a gentle man, devout and not given to cursing. He rarely, if ever, punished us physically. He loved only his wife, our mother, even through the stressful teen and young adult years of their youngest child, who was in constant pain and was unable to communicate in other than the simplest language-and frustrated acting out. He loved the five of us, but in the end, I fear he did not love himself enough.

His passing took place thirty-seven years ago, this coming Wednesday. My siblings gathered at the family home, post-haste. I traveled from Arizona, after gathering food for Penny, who had to remain behind. After a long stretch of driving and flying, I was there, too, for our mother. The subsequent wake and funeral saw nearly 500 people pay their respects, and none of us would have expected any less. Penny’s parents drove from New Jersey-a clear symbol of the friendship that had developed between our two fathers. Family was there from all over New England and several from further afield. “Freddie” Boivin was treasured.

Camp Three, Day Four: An Outpouring of Gratitude

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 16, 2023, Bellemont- Chef said it is the first time she has ever received a written statement of thanks from campers. I also got one-which complements a similar statement from those sheltered at Watsonville, earlier this Spring. These reflect the love we felt, and as Paul McCartney once sang, in an entirely different context-” And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

The women and girls awoke early; the boys and men were a bit more casual in doing so. Once things got rolling, though, everyone had their bags and items on the ramada- and the buildings were spotless by 10:30. A lot of food was left over, so those of us who will tend to a mountain of bagged refuse, next Monday, will be in good stead. So, too, will the people to whom I help serve food on Monday evening and the chef’s ravens-(they remember a generous human, and will accept food that people can’t).

It is one of the nicest series of activities in which I have ever taken part. This year is shaping up to be one of those in which my true nature is coming forward-and being openly appreciated helps in that regard. Long may this continue, even if there are occasional setbacks and tribulations.

Camp Three, Day Three: Burritos, Enchiladas and Two Kinds of Salsa

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 15, 2023, Bellemont- The Enchilada Lady called out on her bullhorn: “Comida, AHORA!”, announcing “Lunch, now!” Children and teens filed into the ramada in fairly short order. They chose from among the left-over burritos, fresh enchiladas and quesadillas, which the three mamas had lovingly prepared. There was plenty of salsa-hot and mild, but no beginner stuff. Chef, needless to say, was enjoying this respite-which ended with her spaghetti and meat sauce, this evening.

My day was filled with observing light repairs, helping lift a couple of generators over some rocks and answering whatever questions I could, from the property manager. He seemed generally pleased, overall, with how the camps are going. My instructions for tomorrow’s camp closing are quite clear.

After spaghetti and meat sauce, it was back to salsa. This time, though, it was salsa dancing. The campers and their chaperones swayed, jumped about and worked out any frustrations they may have accumulated-either here or before they arrived. There is much to be said for dance parties. It certainly made their last night at camp a treasure to be savoured.

This is the vibrant life of a connected community. It is why we need the energy of people from the southern part of our hemisphere, the productive, connected energy, that is, a lot more than they need to offer it. The people who are in our midst, for another morning at least, exude love, balance between work and play and a sense of community responsibility for the well-being of all children and youths in their group. They also look out for us, their hosts.

This is how it used to be, when I was growing up-before anonymity, isolation enabled by garage-doors as ingress and egress points and the casting of the chase after security as the primary goal of so many. The neighbours knew one another-often as friends, and they knew us, as if we were their own-because, in a sense, we were. The child who was cared for, who was valued, was less likely to cause trouble.

Here, for another ten hours, is the answer to much of what hurts America so. Here is the counterpoint to that with which so many associate our neighbour nations to the south: A strong family structure, telescoped into a strong community network.

Camp Three, Day Two: Cold Lava Tubes and A Warm Bonfire

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 14, 2023, Bellemont– The tell-tale thump, after I had loaded the empty propane tanks into Sportage, for a short journey of refilling, turned into a learning exercise in putting together an inflation kit. The kit, when plugged into what used to be the cigarette lighter port, operates from the battery and puts enough air into most tires to get a vehicle to the nearest town-as long as it is not a hundred miles away. Like yours truly, Sportage does not any longer come with a spare tire.

“Town” being Flagstaff, twelve miles away, I managed to get to the Big O Tire outlet and when the service manager noted my long history with that company, my tire was repaired free of charge. Getting the propane tanks refilled was an easy next task.

The campers spent the afternoon in the Kendrick Park Lava Tubes, where they encountered ice-lots of it, on their carefully-picked way down. The tubes are icy and cold, ten months of the year- July and August being the exceptions, before ice re-forms as nights, at least, start to cool again in September. “September Swelter” is less of a thing in the High Country, at least for now.

When they returned, pizza awaited, after a brief period of unwinding. The campers, ranging in age from six to forty-six, were uniformly in awe of the Lava Tubes, having spent 2 1/2 hours picking their way along. After dinner, they rested further and finished the day with devotions, songs and s’mores, around the first campfire I have built in almost thirty years. The basics worked-pine needles on the bottom, then small sticks, short branches and the larger wood on the top. The campers were delighted and the day was another success.

Life itself daily features cold, followed by hot, and vice versa. Cormac McCarthy, who died yesterday, was first known to me through his “No Country for Old Men”- a chilling tale of a psychopathic genius on a mission of mayhem, in west Texas. McCarthy himself was a warm paragon of inspiration to amateur writers like me. His idea of heaven was to sit in a quiet spot and write his heart out. I fully intend to read his “The Road”, next week, as it concerns itself with fatherhood.

The day also featured a side drama, with someone far from here telling me, essentially, that she would show God a thing or two, and her Satan would show his power I calmly observed that Satan is a construct, and while dark energy can wreak havoc, when concentrated in an individual’s mind or in collective action, it has no creativity and no long-term strength. The Divine, the Creative Force, on the other hand, is enduring, is all about creativity and being unknowable, as to Essence, and is far beyond any man-made construct, no matter how appealing that construct may be to a fragile human ego.

People do what they do-and only action based on love will endure.