First Camp, Day Six: Adios, But Not Goodbye

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June 7, 2023- Just as Al Martino sang those words to a hypothetical Mexican woman, back in the mid-sixties, I bid farewell to the forty amazing teenagers and adult minders,who have enriched my world, over the past six days. Wedding Anniversary Week has entailed some sort of spiritually-based service, since Penny passed on-and this year was no exception.

The range of humanity was here, in this group: There were Persians, Mexicans, Dineh, New Mexican Land-Grant Spanish, Tanzanians, African-Americans, Moroccans,Filipino-Koreans, Native Hawaiians, and a few of us Heinz 57 hybrids. There was little, if any, tension though. People were forthright about their wants, needs and concerns. Standing and sitting circle sessions, for both prayer and consultation, kept the water of harmony flowing. Small crises, like yesterday’s allergy attack, kept everyone with arms linked. Even a forlorn soul, speaking truth to the group about having felt “prejudice”, couched those remarks in a hopeful frame, looking forward to working towards increased acceptance.

Strong women and girls stood shoulder to shoulder with men and boys. People who are in a journey of discovery about their sexuality and gender identity walked alongside those of us who determined those aspects of ourselves a long time ago. Boomers and Gen-X’ers were readily accepted by Millennials, Gen-Z’ers and Alphas-and vice versa. Autistic people found a place among the neurotypical. This was a microcosm of what lies ahead for humanity.

Once the kids were on the road, I went about sanitizing the bunks, gathering and securing the trash bags, locking up the buildings and making the drive back to Home Base. Gasing up at Maverik, in Williams (The $ 3.50 price range has returned to Arizona!) and gumboing up, at Danny B’s, in Chino Valley, helped me get back in time for a crucial Zoom call.

A short Home Base break will allow for re-focus, before Camp 2 starts, in about 48 hours.

First Camp, Day Four: Overcoming Cold and Dark

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June 5, 2023, Bellemont- The power grid seemed to be playing cat and mouse with the girls and me. One young lady would come to me with a complaint about the lights going off, in their section of the bath house; I would toggle the relevant circuit switch and the lights were back. Five minutes later, I would get a text message from someone else, and go back and toggle again. The process happened a third time. Then, a chaperone reported that the power had gone out in the overflow women’s cabin.

That brought the AHA moment: The cabin in question was connected to the same breaker unit as the women’s bath house and there were three space heaters in use, at the time the power kept cutting off. The solution was to connect the cabin with a less-used circuit. There was no repeat of any outage.

Back in Prescott, a single mother who has fallen on hard times, only partly of her own making, has been messaging me with pleas for help. All I can do, either here or in Home Base, is encourage her to seek legal aid and the help of a social service agency. I will do so, ad nauseam if necessary, until the light shines through. Too often, people in trouble will insist on depending upon individuals to help them, whether psychologically or financially. The first only works when the prospective helper can be focused, in perpetuity many times. The second only works when he/she is both well-oiled and willing t.o share their money. Neither one will work, though, if the challenged soul is buried beneath a pile of victim blankets.

I have been in both situations. Fortunately, my victimhood was cut to pieces by family members who knew just the right combination of Good Cop and Bad Cop. I was out of the hole, within four years-but it took my own determination to get upright and stay that way. Conversely, I have had to be the Bad Cop with three people who came to me for help, would not help themselves, screamed and yelled that I was not solving their problems and ended up being cut off. I saw one of them later and learned he taken charge of his own life. His enablers were gone. Sometimes, rock bottom is what it takes.

No one is entitled to a bed of roses. My life only became good when I was willing to take responsibility for all of it. Teamwork makes things better, yes, and so does a measure of self-reliance-which requires self-respect. Thus may one dispel cold and dark.

First Camp, Day Three: A Spoonful of Sugar

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June 4, 2023, Bellemont- Mom says there are two ways to “draw flies”-honey and vinegar. The first draws more, of course. I will pass on drawing flies, but relating to teenagers is all about figurative honey: Understanding their minds and hearts, paying attention to their words as well as their actions, without butting into their conversations.

A young woman made a reference to someone as “respectfully creepy”. Since I was within earshot and line of sight, and my behaviour has not been “creepy”, and as she is a well-mannered person, I doubt that was a reference to yours truly. It is more likely with regard to one of her peers who is showing unwanted attention. Nonetheless, one must always be mindful of how attention to others is interpreted.

The chef decided, after a low key day that was concerned with study groups and an impromptu volleyball tourney-and little for me to do around campus, that a baked treat was in order. She served up a pan chocolate and butterscotch chip cookie- a bit soft and gooey, but definitely a hit with the campers-and several adult staff. I was the one serving, and for making sure that stragglers and loners got their share, was able to bond with more of the campers.

Millennials came up with the term “I appreciate you”, in expressing gratitude for kindnesses great and small. The succeeding two generations of youth have continued this nice practice, and we oldsters likewise have taken it into our own lexicon.

I draw a lot of strength from being with groups like this one. Camp is rejuvenating!

Where We Go

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May 20, 2023- I met a second cousin only once-long ago, at a family Christmas party. He could not have been more than three years old. Time passed, he became a grown man, most likely a father-and even more likely, did his level best at an honourable line of work. I can’t say for certain, because he died prematurely, a few days ago. His father, who survives him, has done his level best, in an honourable line of work, so there is a lot of hope in that regard.

I have no way to contact my cousin, but if that changes, I would say to him that. in addition to condolences, I know that he was a good parent, as was his wife. We can sense such things from a distance, even with people we never see or hear once separate paths have been taken. We can always tell, knowing even a small amount about struggles and triumphs, how a person’s life has gone, in general.

Today was spent preparing the grounds and buildings for a series of camps that will begin on June 2. The team that I will lead is to provide logistical support for those guiding groups of up to twenty youth or pre-teens. The guidance is not dogmatic, but is moral, ethical in tone. The young people, for the most part, come from disadvantaged families and neighbourhoods; yet they do have a capacity for learning discernment. It is that discernment that changes lives, communities-and even nations.

Where we go in life depends largely on the choices we make. Those choices only work to our advantage, if they are made with discernment, with information, with honest assessment. I am willing to bet that my departed second cousin lived well. God rest his soul.

Moms and Hearts

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May 14, 2023, Sparks- The young girl was all expectation and delight, as she left for an afternoon of cooking and honouring a friend’s mother. Three hours later, the same child returned to her home, crestfallen, on the verge of tears. Her grandmother, who had hosted us for a lovely Sunday dinner and watch party, took her place by the girl’s side, on a couch. My friend and I left, with quiet wishes that all would be better for her soon.

Another child, cousin to the girl mentioned above, is expectantly planning to be in a play, later this summer. Her mother and grandmother are carefully arranging the participation of various friends in supporting her efforts-and she expressed the hope that I will be there, when the play is staged, in late July. The women will remind me, though that is not necessary, for a child I have long regarded as a grand niece.

A mother who joined a virtual meeting earlier today was philosophical about not being able to see her family, as both she and her husband are in the late stages of recovery from COVID, and are waiting for final clearance from their physician, before taking a chance on visiting any loved ones. Her poker face fooled no one. She is no doubt in constant communication with both children and grandchildren, and will give them all they need of love and attention, in a fairly short time.

Mother’s Day was born in 1870, with the mothers of those killed and maimed, from both sides in the Civil War, coming together to seek healing, both for themselves and for their families, in the wake of the most horrific conflict this nation has ever seen. While the second Sunday in May has now largely assumed a festive air, there is still the basic element of heart sharing, in the course of the day.

My own observation of Mother’s Day is muted, to outward semblance. Mom doesn’t answer her phone, so sending her greetings and a small gift is all that physically transpires. from my end. We have a strong spirit connection, though, so that when I do manage to connect with her, in conversation, she will happily let me know that she felt blessed today. She will also be able to tell, by the sound of my voice, how I am doing, on that day. It has always been thus, between us.

The love of a mother, and of a grandmother, is the bedrock for just about anyone’s functioning, through life’s ups and downs.

Rising, and Being Raised

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May 13, 2023- The objections offered by the woman sitting in the next room, to the Disney versions of classical children’s stories, which her child, grandchildren-and yours truly were watching, were cogent and well-taken. A woman does not need a dashing man of means to swoop in and solve her problems. A human being does not need another, more “superior” human being to decide how life’s difficulties may be overcome.

Those problems and difficulties are best solved by the person facing them, though they are NOT always to be resolved by one soul, singly and alone. There are reasons why we have issues to overcome and there are reasons why we encounter the people we do, including the parents, children, siblings, friends and adversaries in our lives. Each person has something of value to impart, even if it comes in the form of a challenge or setback.

A couple of times today, I found myself admonishing the little boy in the house I was visiting-a place where I am regarded as a brother and as an uncle. His well-being, and that of his sister and cousins, is of great importance to me. So, I speak up, sharply when needed, and calmly the rest of the time. My lesson, though, was to remind myself that his understanding of life is limited-he’s only f our years of age, and controlling impulsivity is a work in progress. Still, keeping the little one safe from physical harm is a duty of every person older than he. Guiding him to not harm others is also a major concern.

There is a further consideration here. Each of us, in addition to (hopefully) raising the young people around us, is also raising self. Parents and nearby adults (again, hopefully) do the best they know how in raising us. The job is not complete, however, when one reaches the age of 18, 21 or 25. Most of the heavy lifting, from those milestones of maturity onward, falls to the individual soul. We can, many times, consult our elders on a continuing basis, but the final choice is our own.

I learn something new about my remaining challenges, both ongoing and novel, each and every day. How I deal with them, what I choose to do, is not on anyone else. I’ve never been Prince Charming, and have never known a Fairy Godmother, or a Sleeping Beauty. The joys and sorrows that have come from each of the friendships and familial ties I have known, though, are more than enough to inform what I need to do, going forward.

If I can offer the same to the children in my life, that is all that is needed.

Shifting Tides

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May 7, 2023- My comments this morning were not glossed over, or dismissed, by the moderator. It seems that there is more of a rooted sense taking over the monthly discussion of Baha’u’llah’s early responses to a Sufi mystic, entitled “The Seven Valleys and The Four Valleys”. There was a good deal less intellectual posturing than in previous sessions. My anecdotes did not fall on deaf ears, in any event.

Another sign that sentiments are moving more towards the center, and away from extremes, was our conversation, earlier this morning, at the Post 6 Breakfast. A random plaint about transgender people demanding their rights was brushed aside by the rest of the group, who are now more concerned about firearms safety than they were even two weeks ago. The plague of random gun attacks, by the very people who see their world crumbling, has begun to stir a sense of outrage among those conservatives on whom the White Supremacists are depending for support. Overkill, some it literal murder, tends to do that.

We humans, no matter what our individual politics are, trend towards sociability. Even self-styled introverts need affirmation from other people. We cherish our right to self-expression, and we honour our responsibilities towards family, community and the greater entities we call state and nation. Some of us even can see to honour responsibilities towards the planet as a whole, much as we would bristle at any ad hoc authority coming in and calling himself the Sovereign of Planet Earth. We want a say in who runs our affairs, and rightfully so.

Along those lines, I read, with alacrity, a piece by Phoenix-based columnist Greg Moore, cautioning about the advances in Artificial Intelligence. My take, in a nutshell, is that the singularity feared by Mr. Moore, and others-including the founder of Google, will only come to pass if mankind gives AI too many passes. I don’t install all that many applications on either my phone or my laptop. I don’t access Siri or any other “office assistant”, primarily because it’s so much more satisfying to look for information on my own. Artificial intelligence is, by definition, man-made, human-bestowed, and, as a friend who follows the advances in the field wryly observed this morning, is incapable of expressing emotion, having deep feelings, without a human being programming it so. Feelings are what impart strength and meaning to a decision.

The tides are shifting, in a good many areas, towards the expression of reason, combined with loving energy.

Fluidity

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May 6, 2023- There was hardly a thought in my head, yesterday, about Cinco de Mayo. All energy was on the dried pine needles-raking them up and bagging them, at least around the perimeter of Bellemont Baha’i School’s kitchen and the old Green Cabin, which is a central gathering place for study, during the sessions that are held in June and July. Others will take up the task of raking and bagging, today, around the rest of the property-and we will be in Firewise mode.

My schedule, over the next 2.5 months, is in a fluid state right now. This morning was taken up with manning a booth at another Firewise event, this one in the village of Dewey, which is one half of the town of Dewey-Humboldt, northeast of Prescott Valley. Then, there was the breakdown of Prescott Farmer’s Market, a staple activity when I am in Home Base. This evening, a delightful duo played covers of hits from the 1960s to the 2010s-and nailed every one, at Rafter Eleven.

Checking my messages, I find that the schedule for the next 2.5 months is largely in a state of flux. Tomorrow will be a standard Sunday- Post 6 breakfast, Baha’i Zoom call and laundry getting done. Then, the carved-in-stone ends. Extended family will be here on Monday, and we will do whatever meets their interest. They will be off, exploring the southwest and southern California, thereafter-and aside from possibly joining them on Tuesday, my plans will find me elsewhere. The train to Los Angeles departs Flagstaff at 8:38 p.m., Wednesday night, and a northern California, Reno-Carson City, and Pacific Northwest journey of indeterminate length will be off and running.

The Bellemont camp manager duties, for which I cleared June and July, are in even more of a state of flux. The dates of each camp have shifted, three times, in the last two days. Discussions about cost, and the vagaries of weather, will affect the scheduling even further. I sense that the dust will settle soon, and there will be plenty to do down here, on days when I am not camp bound.

That brings me to thoughts of autumn. September will see another train trip, this time through the Midwest and Northeast, in time for Mom’s next milestone birthday. Back through the upper South and Texas will follow. Then, there is the still possible journey to Southeast Asia-dependent on a head’s up from the agency through which I sponsor a teenager in that part of the world. This, if it happens, will come in mid-October.

Fluidity is a given, in just about anyone’s life, and leads to more of joy and personal growth than anything else. Whatever transpires, I am sure it will be of interest to some. Stay tuned.

The Force and The Source

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May 4, 2023- The silly, but catchy, memes that are based on a lisped pronunciation of the word force, and its association with the Star Wars series, have their 24 hours of overuse again this year. I caught some footage of “A New Hope” (Episode 4 of the nine-part main series of films), whilst exercising this afternoon. It all makes me think of the whole concept of power, and from where it comes.

There are, essentially, two views of how power is derived: Through individual initiative and effort; through collective action. In reality, both are necessary, for a full life and for a highly functioning society. Purists on either side tend to negate the effects of their stated views, as they end up getting trapped in the webs of their egos. Thus, the firebrand who wants to cut government to the quick ends up depriving the very free enterprise he wants to promote of the incentives to invest-as the investors are too worried about losing money to focus on much else. The ideologue who wishes death or dismemberment upon the family members of a conservative official ends up contradicting the notion of a peaceful, harmonious society that her cohorts are trying to promote.

All power, every force, comes from the Divine, the Source, the Creator, God, Bhagwan, Allah-whatever one wishes to call the One Who is both the Nameless and the Possessor of all names. From this Source, which has no beginning or end, comes everything we need to build up, or tear down. We do the former either out of love or out of ambition. We do the latter either out of anger/hate or out of recognition that a course correction is needed. The whole process, whatever form it takes, comes from free will-itself a product of the variety that presents itself to us, in a physical world.

I can stay in Home Base and enjoy the comfort of my residence or I can go on the road and visit family/friends, old and new. I can eat delicious ice cream, stuffed omelettes, pizza and such, putting on weight or I can content myself with a strict diet and watch my waistline get more in line, with a healthy regimen-so I have told myself. The truth is somewhere in between.

The same is true, in just about every area of this life. Baha’u’llah tells us: “It is incumbent upon them who are in authority to exercise moderation in all things. Whatsoever passeth beyond the limits of moderation will cease to exert a beneficial influence.” We who are not in positions of authority do well to follow this, also.

With that, I will exercise moderation, and stop here. May the Force, and the Source, be with you!

Stitchless Again

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May 2, 2023- At first, the receptionist thought she had to get permission from the dermatologist, in order to send me in to see the young man who was scheduled to remove the sutures, from my recent procedure. As no one was answering the phone on the other end, the PA’s supervisor came out to the lobby and verified that I was to see him, once the backlog of people who had arrived before me was seen. That did not take anywhere near the time it might have, and my five minutes of the PA’s time came, only 30 minutes behind schedule.

I had no other immediate appointments, so it was not trouble to spend several minutes watching those who were seeking condos by a beach, and a McMansion in Santa Fe, on HGTV. Once the stitches were out and a bandage applied, I dropped off some items at Disabled American Veterans Thrift Store, took care of one or two other errands and got the laundry done, after a fashion.

A miscommunication between me and another Baha’i friend led to my getting the time wrong, for a gathering on the 12th Day of Ridvan (today), so I got a few refreshments and helped clean up, catching up with a few friends I’d not seen for quite a while. Things can change on a dime, so I was not at all perturbed-at least I got to the tail-end of the gathering.

This evening brought me into the world of Turo, a car rental service that lets people deal with one another directly. That will be needed, when I get to Reno and am ready to head to Carson City, in about nine days. It will also come in handy, on other occasions. A cousin of mine used Turo, a while back, and was quite pleased with what amounts to the Air Bnb of car rentals. The lady from whom I’m renting a hybrid has good reviews from prior customers, so I feel good about the arrangement.

All in all, this was another good day. I have to double down on exercise, and be more patient with myself, and others, in dealing with situations in which people are hair-splitting, during certain Zoom sessions. The temptation to tune out is pretty strong, yet there are things that the hair-splitters have to say, which are rather important, in the midst of it all.

Sifting wheat from chaff is still a worthy exercise.