The Quiet Moon

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August 1, 2022- Waking this morning to a sunny and quiet Home Base, there was not a whole lot ahead of me for the day. Two routine tasks did end up rewarding my inner peace and patience. There is only Bank of America in our metro area, so depositing my rent check meant standing in line for nearly a half hour. At the laundromat I use, half of the washing machines were out of order, so I put everything in one machine, which was okay, as it was not overloaded. While at the laundry, the 15% chance of rain turned into a forty-minute full on monsoon storm, the power went out twice and there was a cozy crowd watching “Abducted: The Jocelyn Shaker Story”, until the first power outage cut the cable service, right at the predictable “Lifetime” movie’s ending.

For all that, August is looking, initially, to be much quieter than June or July. I had two conflicting activities set for the first half of the month, Both, as it happens, will go on without me-as they, in turn, each conflict with a faith-based meeting that can only take place on Friday mornings. Saturn will get its rear bumper repaired, in the latter part of next week, and that is as far as I have planned for the bulk of the month. Sub calls will likely come, at least a few days this month, and there is a chance of local Red Cross activity-especially if we continue to have an active monsoon. This is the most rain I’ve seen here in several years, and I’ll not complain, as long as there is the balance between wet and dry.

The new moon promises to come in quietly, and to reward patience with sustenance. This will be a month for nurturing my little family, from a distance, and local friendships, in occasional gatherings. It’ll be a fine month to be low key and gather energy for September and October, which will see a somewhat more robust schedule.

Now, we’ll see how long the quietude lasts.

Under A Gentle Mist

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July 26, 2022- I woke this morning, to a router/modem combo that was struggling to even fully load, and a candle pot that had somehow crashed to the floor and shattered, overnight. After cleaning up the pieces of ceramic and vacuuming the shards, I looked carefully at the device, and found its power supply was running very hot. So, the whole thing was unplugged and will remain so, until a technician from Sparklight comes over, tomorrow at some point. Thus do I write from the pleasant surroundings of Wild Iris Coffee House and will communicate with others, this evening, from Raven Cafe.

There is a misty rain in Prescott, this morning, a gentle reminder that, no matter how difficult things may seem at times, there is always a Guiding Hand that will help keep things on an even keel. Last night, as I walked from Bill’s Pizza, following a pleasant dinner served by a precious soul, I was approached by a longtime friend, who is a Youth Pastor. He asked my opinion on the political events of the past two years, then stated his disaffection with a certain defeated candidate for the presidency. My contention that any one of us can be dumb at times, but few are stupid, was reinforced by our conversation. My conservative friend has a good heart and a discerning mind.

I got a reasonable estimate from the auto body shop that I use here, so Saturn should be repaired, relatively easily, sometime in August, courtesy of the culpable party’s insurance company. In the meantime, it’s roadworthy and will get its welcome back oil & lube on Thursday.

Late August and early September will find me in Colorado and northern New Mexico, with a Baha’i school in Colorado Springs as the centerpiece. The second half of October will bring a visit to northern Nevada and eastern Idaho. I had considered a train ride to Sacramento, and renting a car from there, but the time and money required to drive up there is actually less than a train/rental car combination. So, once again, it’ll be Saturn and me going forth together. Thanksgiving will, most likely, be a Texas affair, with Christmas right here at Home Base, but more on those, later.

This is a community of very finely-tuned synchronicity. I left the coffee house, momentarily, to change parking spots, as there is a two-hour limit. Spotting an empty space in Iris’s lot, I went to the car, turned around and, lo and behold, the car in front of me got the empty space. Having been raised with a mindset of abundance, I pulled around the corner and found several spaces available. There is, most often, room for everyone in this world.

Rainy Day People

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July 25, 2022- The day has started off proactively. I was able to get an estimate on repairs to the Saturn, and this now goes to the insurance company representing the person who caused the crash on July 7. I sense that the relatively small amount of damage should not be difficult for that company to

Lots of Crackling Sunshine

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July 22, 2022- The spunky girl took the cell phone she had left sitting on a chair, in the sunshine, and for a moment, her world came crashing down. Once I told her chaperone that an hour or so in a cool building would revitalize the phone, she was back to being an effervescent twelve-year-old.

Thirty-one young people, each of them a source of brightness or of challenge, at any given time, have been front and center for the past 1 1/2 days. Anyone wondering how a person my age could be in such a situation, and not go bonkers, is missing the big picture. The energy that seems so unmanageable now is going to be the source of a good many solutions to problems that seem insurmountable, to the very people who complain about the kids. Besides, when one takes the time to listen, any person can feel validated.

The small team of adults, each an angel in their own right, brought the campers up from the Phoenix area, for a session that will last until Monday. I stayed until this evening, then came back to Home Base, due to another commitment. It would have otherwise been no problem, to have remained at Bellemont until closing. I will be back up there next weekend, for a shorter camp, with a smaller group of adolescents.

My work was somewhat in the kitchen, and somewhat around campus. Mainly, the task was just being supportive of campers, chaperones and camp staff. We tended to one another’s needs, as if family-which is how a faith community ought to be. When a cabin full of girls reported, through their dorm master, that someone was knocking at their door after lights out, every other camper, chaperone and staff person accounted for their own whereabouts and it was determined that an adult would stand watch outside the cabin, until morning. My boss volunteered himself. If he hadn’t, I would have stayed up. No one threatens or hurts “our” kids. Least of all, do they hurt one another. One of the most important life lessons is building compassion.

Every being has a purpose, and every sentient being has several. I am honoured to be able to contribute, meaningfully, to helping these wonderful souls to find theirs.

Back to the Woods

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July 21, 2022- So begins an unusual four days. I will shortly head up towards Bellemont Baha’i School, for the first of two kitchen helper sessions, (today and tomorrow), with the next being July 30-31. Getting back tomorrow night, then Saturday and part of Sunday will be spent caring for 15 pounds of lovable, if willful, white fur.

I have had an affinity for Bellemont, since I first visited in 1981. Back then, only “primitive” (tent) camping was an option. The only motels or hotels were 20 miles away, in either Flagstaff to the east or Williams to the west. The kitchen, so to speak, was an outdoor “chuckwagon” set-up. People sat around, well into the night, and engaged in deep conversations, many of them of a spiritual nature.

Nowadays, we have a state-of-the-art, enclosed kitchen. There are cabins, for male and female attendees. There is a bathhouse-with male and female facilities. The old green cabin, one of the original classrooms, has been renovated and still serves as a study center. The library, above the bathhouse, is an ancillary classroom. The main clients, these days, are adolescents, aged 11-14. I have helped out, off and on, for three years now. (2020 was a hiatus for everyone), with the camps-from the Spring cleanup to the Fall breakdown, and as many camps as my other activities allow, over the summer.

The kids are wonderful and several longtime Baha’i friends comprise the staff, so it makes for a time of vigourous, but enjoyable activity. I will be offline until tomorrow night; thus, this early post.

Glimpses of Shutdowns

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July 16, 2022- The lines of traffic on I-40, east of Gallup and again, west of Holbrook, as I went along in the opposite direction, were apocalyptic. Even my own many forays along Chicago’s I-94 seemed like a Sunday drive, in comparison. There was little information about the New Mexico tie-up, though it was likely due to an accident relative to a construction project. The Arizona snag was due to police activity. I noted several patrol cars blocking the road, and despite the inconvenience of the heat, it was no doubt for the best. There didn’t appear to have been any accident, so my guess is someone was up to no good-and got caught.

This has been a hard year, indeed, a hard decade for many. The ongoing outbreaks of COVID remind me of the three major outbreaks of bubonic plague, which occurred generations apart from one another, and were equally global in impact. It is best to keep this in mind, when expressing “being tired of restrictions”. No one is presently being “restricted”, by the government or private enterprises, but there are occasions when even those of us who have been vaccinated and boosted, but not infected, deem it prudent to put on a face mask. I did so, on several occasions during my just-concluded journey to and from Atlantic Canada. I will again, around Home Base and when going up to Bellemont Baha’i School, on a couple of occasions, during the next two weeks, as prudence dictates.

The costs of fuel and other staples are stuck at high levels, with many predicting that, with industry smelling record profits, these costs are unlikely to go down much, if at all. This places a serious burden on those who commute to work, or who depend on their vehicles in the course of their work. Other than promoting telecommuting, I don’t have any snap answers to this dilemma. My own vehicle has maximized fuel efficiency, thanks to having good mechanics available, both here and in other parts of the country. Even so, gas is sky-high in price, and diesel, for those who depend on it, is downright astronomical.

My only personal recourse, in all this, is to maintain my daily life and continue to follow those guides, visible and invisible, who provide me with a course of action, both short and long-term. Our parents and grandparents made it through equally difficult, if not worse, times. We can do the same, by sticking together.

Certitude

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July 14, 2022, Grapevine- The Republic of France celebrated the day, 233 years ago, when the Nation’s most-hated prison, La Bastille, was stormed by a mob, as the people were fed up with the dissembling of Louis-Auguste (Louis XVI) and what they perceived as the oppressive policies of the nobility, acting in concert with the Church. The chaos that swirled around that nation, both before and after the trials and executions of Louis and his wife, Marie Antoinette, led only to the rise of the equally autocratic, if more effective in leadership, Napoleon Bonaparte.

The life of a nation, like the lives of individuals, families and communities, depends upon a delicate mix of certitude and flexibility in the face of change. The former without the latter can easily turn into rigidity and oppressiveness. The latter, without the former can be just more wishy-washy foolishness, changing with the wind and tides.

The great Spiritual Teachers have each told us to be discerning, thoughtful and motivated by love. This requires a lot of work, daily and long-term, to maintain both one’s individual life plan and to support loved ones in theirs. My own certitude actually depends on flexibility. I have seen people I love dearly end up feeling broken and hopeless, because their way was not chosen over the highway; because things did not proceed according to what they, alone, deemed best -especially for others. It could have been the same in my life, had I not accepted the concepts of listening to even my harshest critics and gleaning the best of ideas and beliefs they espoused, which actually turned matters around, on a few occasions.

While none of us is spared the grief and pain that accompany life on this plane of existence, neither is that life solely a matter of gritting one’s teeth and enduring excruciating pain, for decades on end. There are opportunities and there is always a way out of the rubble-even if it takes a lot of digging.

Across A Scarred, Blessed Land

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July 11,2022, Grapevine, TX- All of my errands were tended, in a little mini-mall at Muscle Shoals, right next to one of the Blues hub’s many recording studios. I went there, briefly, after checking out of Budget Inn, in nearby Florence. Last night, I was swept up in love for some openly devout people. Quiet strength is an overwhelming force. The manager of Budget Inn showed the same determination and fortitude as that precious family. I will not forget any of them.

I had a mission: To get to my little family’s home, here in the northwest of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metro area, before calling it a night. Crossing three states to get into Texas is an all-day affair, even with few or no stops. I find the scarred, blessed, lands of the South to be of particular beauty, both in terms of terrain and of their people. With all that came of following the doctrine of human ownership of other humans, of patriarchy and dominance-which existed in other parts of the continent and around the globe as well, just in other guises, the character of people and the force of faith have forged an indomitable culture of resilience-among Black and White people alike. That resilience is far from complete, but I saw a much stronger sense of self-worth, across Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana today, than I did on my last journey in this area, in December, 2020. Black workers were not furtively looking about, when serving me, but were forthright and confident. White youths were not engaged in mocking and ridiculing me for “walking like a Yankee”, whatever that meant back in 2020.

I had a fine meal, at Country Pride, in Tallulah, LA, served by a an amiable woman, of regal bearing. The magnolias and pines of the Appalachian foothills gave way to the grasslands of the Delta, which in turn gave way to the pines of the Big Thicket, then to the short grass prairie. I am in my little family’s home now, for three days.

A better South is rising.

Wind In The Sails Again

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July 6, 2022, Brewster, NY- The mechanic of 36 years’ experience looked me in the eye, and begged to differ, about my intention to look around for a newer vehicle, sometime in the near future. “Senor, this vehicle’s engine, motor and frame are solid. One guy’s mistake, in not putting a gasket on the oil pan plug, led to that leak and whatever hit your oil pan could have hit any oil pan, even on a 2022 model. The rest of the stuff we did today is routine maintenance. That was a long drive you made, after all.”

All of that is true. It’s also true that a hybrid, or electric vehicle, uses less fossil fuel than a standard vehicle with an internal combustion engine. Much rubber will meet a few more roads, before the final decision on the matter is made.

In the meantime, I bid farewell to my mother, brother and sister-in-law, did not get to spend time with my sister and brother-in-law (but did enjoy a meatball grinder at Post Road Pizza, in their town of Marlborough) and had a fairly smooth drive, from Saugus to this lovely town in the uplands, east of the Hudson River.

There were traffic snags, in which I found myself. There was a long snarl, for opposing traffic, as I left Saugus. A construction project was tying up for the day, a landscaper had left his truck on the shoulder of the road, on our side, causing northbound traffic to have to use the southbound lane to go around it, which in turn required a police officer to direct the trade-off between the two flows. Further up, a second officer had to direct a trade-off between the two flows, around the project itself.

There was rush hour in the city of Worcester, which kept traffic along I-290 crawling along, for twenty-five minutes or so, with lane shrinkage helping tremendously. Then, at the Connecticut state line, an accident on I-84 southbound, involving at least two vehicles, tied up traffic for about forty minutes. Seven police cars, from both Massachusetts and Connecticut state patrols, the Tolland County Sheriff’s Office and the towns of Holland, MA and Union, CT, were on the scene, blocking the highway and safely coordinating the response to the incident. No word on any casualties. I could see a pickup truck in a ditch, with a young man standing outside it. That was all.

Waterbury, famous for its own traffic snarls, was pretty much clear, save a three-minute slowdown, west of town, due to a construction project that was winding down for the night. I was safely ensconced in my present room, at Comfort Inn, by 9:55. Plugging my laptop into an inactive wall outlet led to loss of connection to a Baha’i Zoom call, but noticing that it WAS an inactive outlet and moving to a live outlet, at least let me get the juice back. That was the lesson from North Sydney, NS, earlier this summer.

Tomorrow, I will cross the Hudson, head over to Pennsylvania, stop at D’s Diner for lunch, then go down to a small town west of Philadelphia, visit family for a bit and make my pilgrimage to Oley, and Glick’s Greenhouse.

Freedom of Choice

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July 3, 2022, Saugus- A spirited discussion took place, on social media today, involving several members of a family in another part of the country, all of whom I love very much-regardless of their varying political views. It was said that things got out of hand, in private messages going back and forth, and I will leave that as it is. Private is private.

We are, in fits and starts, coming out of the Coronavirusdisease 2019 pandemic. Some, including friends of mine, are still getting the scourge, and hopefully their experience will be brief. Some have reported that it is horrific, and I pray for their swift recovery. My point here is, though, that after nearly two years of restriction, a sense of oppression and all manner of obfuscation, smoke and mirrors and the like, we, the People, are gingerly getting out and about. I took 2020 off from the road, and may have done so last year as well, but for the necessity of getting our family home ready to transfer to another family. (Who seem to be well-settled in, by the way.) My family and friends hereabouts are also finally getting to enjoy life again. One set of cousins is busy with cookouts, all weekend. Another couple are going off on a long-delayed journey to somewhere special. Yet a third cousin is kayaking, on a lake up yonder.

That we are exercising our freedom to travel is not a bad thing at all. There are benefits and drawbacks to travel, and one must accept both. We also have choices to make in many other areas of life. There are benefits and drawbacks to those as well. The right to do with one’s own body what you will, is sacrosanct-so long as it does not impinge on the rights of others. It is a matter of debate, at times fierce, as to whether a fetus is a human being. Some religious scholars say it is; others say humanity begins with birth. Some lay people take the first view; others, the opposite. I say, as a man, that the final, hopefully informed and measured, decision, rests with the mother-not with the courts, including that of Public Opinion, or with the Legislatures of different states, or of the nation at large.

The right to defend oneself is also sacrosanct. The Creator put us here, and it is up to the Creator as to when we leave. There is, however, nothing that says anyone has the right to end the life of another, in a random and capricious, or even intentional and malicious, spate of violence. So, I do not subscribe to the credo that says possession and use of assault weapons is a God-given right. (As I write this, six more people died at the hands of an out-of-control lunatic, in Highland Park, IL and an indeterminate number of police officers used what looks like excessive force, to end the life of a gunman, who had thrown his weapon into a car, before attempting to flee, in Akron, OH). Violence begets violence.

Every act we do in this life has benefits, and has consequences. I have learned to accept both.