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The Giant Rubber Duck
Category Archives: Inspiration
Style and Substance
August 25, 2023- The little boy greeted me, in late morning, with a warm hug. The angry woman, later in the evening, with much the opposite.
Like so many days, this one began light and airy-and ended with a thud. I woke, sensing that the energy around me was shifting in a positive direction and that, in advance of the journey that begins at the end of next week, my path in what remains to be done here in the meantime would be free of obstacles. The work day reflected that, with the children energetic and cooperative, and my colleagues just happy to see another Friday, though they do enjoy their work. Everyone likes a rest, or change of pace, after a week at a job well done.
I visited Rafter Eleven, and was treated like a king-an extra mocha java was delivered to my table, as a token of appreciation for consistent support of this marvelous enterprise, over the bottom of the past eight years. A little bee was also attracted to my light meal, and to the drink, eventually finding its way to the bottom of the glass. Unfortunately, the poor animal perished from the still icy condition of the vessel-or maybe from the caffeine.
After leaving my friend’s establishment, I chose to join an in-person meeting, instead of going back to Home Base and signing onto Zoom. The hosts and the presenter were congenial, and the information quite illuminating. Not everyone was glad to see me however, and after a fashion, I found it best to excuse myself and head out-easy enough to do, as it had been a long, if lovely, day up to that point-and I needed rest.
There have been, every so often, people in my life who do not take kindly to my manner of speech or style of explanation. I try to learn what I can from such a person, for a time, and if it makes me more well-rounded or expands my knowledge, so much the better. Style, however, tends to reflect the substance of a soul. An angry, wounded soul will be abrupt, castigating and intolerant. I have not done well, in the presence of such people and this evening was no exception.
For my part, I know that I do not think well on my feet at the end of the day-and frequently, I do not engage well in debate, even when rested. This means nothing to the disquiet person, and is often viewed by them as an excuse. The whole trigger this evening was my statement that I like to back up my comments with the words of Baha’u’llah or ‘Abdu’l-Baha, not as a proselytizing mechanism or as a substitute for good deeds, but as the glue that holds my own words and deeds together. That led to an outburst of anger, and I chose to leave, rather than exacerbate the situation.
For a time, once back in the apartment, I pondered whether this is an indication that my time here in this community is getting short, that maybe the bloom is off the rose and I need to move on. The counter to that, I know, is that the part of myself that triggers anger in disquiet people will only spark the same, at the next place, if I move along. It’s better to keep this Home Base for now, get my journeys done in September and October, and resume work here from November through mid-May.
With that, I am headed to sleep, and hope for a peaceful weekend.
On Quality
August 24, 2023- While working out on a stationary bicycle, this evening, I caught an episode of “Shark Tank”, a program in which would-be entrepreneurs approach Mark Cuban, and four other judges, and pitch a proposal, which is to garner the proponents a cash advance, for which, in return, the judges each get a percentage of ownership in the start-up.
Watching one of the pitches, in particular, I had to say, with Mark Cuban, who knows a thing or two about start-ups and expansion, that selling the initial unit of the business, for half of what was originally paid, and asking the “Tank” to fund three units of a nationwide expansion of the concept, was a non-starter. I say this, knowing next to nothing about business, yet having this idea in my head that, if I did have a start-up, based on an appealing concept and backed by a solid business model, I would want to have twice what I paid for the first unit, in the bank-before even thinking about a second unit, much less a third or fourth. I would want to have a track record of quality-and I would not sell off my initial unit. Had the entrepreneurs known the process of thinking things through, they’d have not made that mistake.
In a competitive world, quality is king. Not so long ago, if I had been offered a Marvel comic book persona, I would have been The Veneer. While I had, and still have, lots of heart, my understanding of what made for a quality offering was rather stilted. In teaching, and in making group presentations as a counselor, I was big on content-facts and figures. People- students, colleagues and interviewers-wanted depth, hooks, gravitas, a sense of what mattered.
Thank the Divine for the Internet: For Google, Bing, Safari, Siri and Alexa. Not feeling the need to be a walking encyclopedia is a fine thing. My focus, for the past decade or so, has been on encouraging thought, and showing how to ask the right questions. Quality of focus and of what will be important, fifty years from now, is essential in education, in business and in public discourse. Students need to be guided in that area, far more than they need to be passive recipients of things they could find on their own.
Independent investigation of truth is the wave of the future. Having learning be a quality experience mandates that that process be encouraged now.
That Floor Space
August 21, 2023- A friend told of visiting her aunt’s home as a child, and going into the room where her disabled, nonverbal cousin was sitting on the floor, and joining her, talking with the girl and not expecting any verbal response. The joyful smile and noise that she did get in reply were actually more meaningful than the banal banter that we often pass off as “interest”.
I read, this evening, of one of the few houses still standing, in Lahaina. The metal roof, cleared space around the house and the distance between homes, in that part of Front Street, had a fair amount to do with its survival. Another aspect, that the couple who live there now plan to take in some who are destitute, surely affected its fate. Arrangements, solutions, to even the worst of disasters are in the ethereal realm, waiting to be called forth. Floor space is a temporary fix, but I have been in plenty of situations, both as a host and as a guest, when a spot on the floor, or on a couch, has made the difference between renewed hope and despair.
There are also times when the schedule is crowded, or I am out of town, and a call, a text or an e-mail comes from someone, just needing to be acknowledged or to get a listening ear. I could do better in that regard, but setting aside time, pulling over to the side of the road, clicking the Bluetooth phone icon on my steering wheel or, if in an activity, excusing myself and going outside, to answer the call, are all getting easier. That temporal floor space is often all that an overwhelmed soul needs.
There is definitely floor space, one place or another, for everyone.
Agency Honouring
August 18, 2023- A world famous entrepreneur and television host walked into a Red Cross shelter-with a full camera crew and other members of the entourage. The shelter manager informed one and all that no filming or recording was allowed inside dormitory area of the shelter. This is standard procedure for ARC shelters. The crew and most of the others left, but the famous person stayed and distributed items that she had brought along. The performative element of the visit was foregone, with no real damage to the agency of either the donor or the shelter clients.
Personal agency is, as I have said earlier, a most important thing to honour. So, for that matter, is collective agency, that which acknowledges the integrity of a community of people. I am not threatened by the presence of anyone who identifies as gay, bisexual, questioning. I am not threatened the presence of a transgender person. Conversely, I am not threatened by the presence of a conservative, fundamentalist, traditionalist human being. I know who I am, and not being influenced by someone whose life experiences are different from mine, honouring their agency and their humanity is not at all difficult.
Honouring a community is, likewise, not difficult. Having lived and worked with Dineh, Hopi, Korean and Vietnamese people helped me see things from a wider perspective. Visiting with people in all fifty states and D.C, all ten Canadian provinces and thirteen other countries has only expanded that perspective further. Community involvement, here in my community of residence, is the cement that reinforces respect for individual and collective agency, day to day.
These thoughts come to me, after a short postmortem on the recent “Copper 2 Gold” series of discussions on overcoming one’s lingering prejudices, particularly with regard to relationships with People of Colour. There is a legacy left by colonialism, and by the individual and collective sense of superiority that spurred that colonialism, in the first place. It doesn’t require a system that is identified by a colloquialism from the dialect of enslaved people (“woke”) to correct its excesses, but it certainly needs every single person to examine his/her lingering misconceptions and prejudices, and to do so earnestly.
The Bottom of The Top
August 16, 2023- As a five-time hiker of the Grand Canyon’s Bright Angel Trail, from rim to river and back, I can attest that there is no appreciation of the bottom, without the top, and vice versa.
This afternoon, I completed reading “PrairyErth”, William Least Heat Moon’s “sequel” to his account of a back roads ramble around the United States, entitled “Blue Highways”. The latter took in travels through 38 states. The former concentrated on one county, in Kansas, which was one of the ten contiguous states he didn’t visit the first time. Mr. Least Heat Moon’s style is consistent, covering all bases of an area, telling anecdotes of his encounters with Man and Nature, weaving details of history, sociology, biology and geology into each chapter-in both books. The micro reflects the macro.
The writer, named for his having been born during a New Moon, entered the words of this post’s title, in the final chapter of “PrairyErth”, in the course of describing a walk which he and a friend took, tracing as best they could the route taken by the Kansa (Kaw) people, when those who gave their name to the state were removed to Oklahoma, in 1872.
He christened the base of a small, but steep, hill in the west of Chase County, as “the bottom of the top”, and thus connected beginning with end, east with west, north with south. Stephen Covey, many years ago, did the same in his life coaching book, “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People”: “See the end in the beginning”.
Continuity and connection have been essential in my own approach to life, for at least forty years-and probably longer, on a subliminal level. Leaving someone out, not seeing a task through to its completion or omitting a detail have been foreign to my thinking, often to an extent that has been maddening to those around me-and sometimes to me, as well. Dr. Covey’s book helped, in teaching that planning things ahead of time can help enormously, with regard to remembering details-and so I have made that second nature-at least in the past fifteen years.
The first part of anything signals the nature of the last. The bottom is essential to the top. The converse of these is also true.
Dribs and Drabs
August 15, 2023- Back when I was working as a grocery bagger and cart gatherer, in the awkward days of high school, the man who was probably the best boss I have had, to this day, had a by-phrase: “Use your squash!” I had him banging his head on the wall more than once, but after a fashion, that advice stuck, and it has been applied in a variety of situations.
I read of several ongoing events and processes today, and this being a quiet day in the neighbourhood, devote this post to the scattershot responses to two very different ongoing concerns.
The careful search for victims of the Maui fires, especially in Lahaina, continues, with the death toll at 99 and 1300 people counted missing. As this goes on, reports are surfacing that there are efforts being made to snap-up property in the fire zone. This should, at the very least, be shot down by the current property owners. It would be best if the Hawai’i Legislature, or Congress, passes legislation that installs an indefinite moratorium on any such transactions. Snap-up culture, in general, is tawdry and disgusting. In cases like this one, involving what may well become hallowed ground, it is far, far out of line.
The other aspect of the tragedy, the behaviour of tourists, bears mentioning. In 2014, when I was in Europe, I had to learn from mistakes and file the lessons under “Do not repeat”. Later that year, in Honolulu, it came to mind that Hawaiian people have said, repeatedly, that they are getting tired of pushy, inconsiderate people from the mainland-and elsewhere. It was a brief visit to Honolulu, but my manners were intact.
It seems that some visitors, whether out of boredom, convention or sheer ego, have disrespected the people of Maui, in recent days. Perhaps they can reach back to times when they have been in mourning. That is what is going on in Maui, and across the island chain. When one visits a place, even if spending a tidy sum, there is nothing that says basic decency should be cast aside.
Finally, the debate over whether the 19 people who were indicted for interfering with the Georgia vote count, in the 2020 election, is finding those opposed to the indictments are missing one thing: Nineteen people, not just one, are up on charges. That takes extra time, so yes, it is correct for the DA to file the charges now-for what is likely a trial that won’t happen until early 2025. The comparison to the Federal charges against 3 people, in one set, and one person, in the other set, is a matter of apples and oranges. I also remind one and all that no one is seeking a star chamber proceeding. Each person charged has the right to a fair trial-innocent until proven guilty-in a court of law, not a scrum of public opinion.
Decency-it’s what’s on the menu of personal behaviour. Use your squash!
An Eclectic Gathering
August 12, 2023, Lake Havasu City- The ebullient young man practically burst through the front door, carrying his crock pot full of macaroni with three cheeses-his contribution to the festive birthday gathering. I took a spoonful and can attest that it is among the best “mac and cheese” I’ve ever had, and told him so, which made his effusiveness that much keener.
I came to this city that exists almost in isolation from the rest of Arizona, with wilderness as its California neighbour, to attend a friend’s 31st birthday. Arriving at 6 p.m. made the most sense, given the two activities to which I needed to attend earlier, back in Prescott. It also made sense, temperature wise: Lake Havasu City sits squarely in the western sector of the Sonoran Desert, and temperatures here have hit close to 120 F-as recently as last month. It was 102, when I arrived at the party site, where I am also spending the night.
I knew only three people, the birthday celebrant and his father, who live at the party location, and a friend from Bullhead City, 1 1/2 hours north northwest of here, when I first arrived. I still would characterize most of the rest of the crowd as pleasant acquaintances, as I came to know very little about them, but this does rank among the most convivial of gatherings, in recent memory. The conversations ranged from Lahaina- on nearly everyone’s mind, these days, to a guest’s unusual medical condition and another guest’s recent loss of a loved one. The common thread, though, was the deep concern people have for one another. No one who expressed a personal issue or health concern had it glossed over, by the group.
Here were several workers from the local hospice, stay-at-home mothers, teachers, gym attendants, an architect, two high school students, a retired surfer, a deep sea fisherman (also retired, given the fact that the water here is in a fresh-water lake, and it’s a long way to his former haunts in Sitka, AK) and a couple of ten-year old boys, who were mostly focused on the video game that was on the wide screen in front of them. The high schoolers were the mac and cheese chef and his girlfriend, who served delectable soft chocolate chip cookies. “She’s a fabulous baker!”, boyfriend proudly crowed. I would agree that that the two of them have a fine future ahead, in the culinary arts.
So went the evening, and one of my rare summer forays into the Sonoran realm. With reliable air conditioning, in both Sportage and this house, being out in the warm desert evening air was actually pleasant. Tomorrow, I will stay here long enough to host a late-morning Zoom call, then head back towards Home Base, and stay tuned for what the week shall bring.
The Tiredness and The Shame
August 9, 2023- With slumped shoulders and a downcast expression, she handed me a pink tardy slip, apologizing as if the entirety of her lateness was her doing, alone. I suspected otherwise, and asked for a few more details, which the child was relieved to be able to share.
All too many children, it seems, are caught between dependence on those who are barely able to care for themselves-and actually having to raise themselves. The little girl has good judgment, so in the long term, I’d say her prospects for a solid adulthood are quite good. She does not suffer fools gladly-a good thing in my book, nor does she sneer at people who see things a bit differently than she. She also has strong, clear boundaries-which I have advised children to inculcate, as long as I have been advising in general.
D was tired, and felt shame at that fatigue. “I went to bed early enough”, she offered, “It seems the morning comes too soon.” No one, to my reckoning, should have to feel shame at physical states-and I communicated as much. There are too many variables involved in the matter of sleep, as with other health matters-and pre-adolescence, a swell as the change that follows it, are filled with interruptions, expansions and contractions that are bound to try anyone’s patience. How well I remember my own years of transition from childhood to youth!
I left her alone, with her close friend, and being a responsible soul, she pulled herself together enough to complete an assignment and launch into the next activity. When it came time to leave, though, she was first on the way to the bus line.
D, and about a dozen of her peers, have joined the community that lives in my heart. I will look out for her, whenever I can.
Luck Holds
August 7, 2023-
This is a simple verse, marking an ordinary day, in which so many affirmations came.
With the urge to turn off the alarm, before it had a chance to bray : “FIVE A.M!”, the left leg moved off the bed, followed by the right hand reaching over and switching the lever off.
A half hour later, grooming and dressing , done in the mirror’s honouring gaze, was in rear view, followed in short order by devotions-and a check of what transpired overnight.
A mention of the trials impending, in D.C. and Florida; another mention of tribulations, across the Great Plains, and headed towards D.C. Cloud cover, here though, tempering the heat.
Plenty of food on hand, for breakfast and lunch. Plenty to be shared with my colleagues of the next three days-a bit of pound cake here; a box of cookies there. Treats go fast, in that school’s lounge.
Children, vibrant and caring, yet struggling with transition from the days of everything and nothing, to these days of something substantial. I recall these same beings as little more than toddlers, now gingerly entering their second decade of life. There is the pretense of not knowing, a facade covering the real questions: Are we loved? Do we matter?
They always matter; are ever loved, at least in these brightly lit and climate-controlled rooms. I treasure this time spent-today, and will tomorrow, and the next day.
The next stop, almost directly after school, is the serving line. Loaves of bread are contributed, along with a couple of Care Kits. I am the soup ladler, not a hint of the “Nazi”, of television fame, just gladness at being able to help those of scant luck feel positive energy. That luck, scant and fleeting as it may seem to the unhoused, is here each Monday night. They love the onion soup tonight. I love that there is a full crew to do clean-up, and I get to leave early.
Each day brings its blessings, with challenges met and surmounted. My luck is holding, rather nicely.
