Category Archives: Matters of Faith

Carousel of Time

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

August 6, 2022- “Do you smoke?”, the gregarious woman asked, referring to the use of cannabis. When I replied in the negative, she said that she thought I should. The fact is, I ended, that my imagination needs no external aid, in going off on tangents. I haven’t used any intoxicants since February, 1981, and while I will socialize with just about anyone, it is not necessary for me to follow their behaviour in lockstep.

I was at the coffee shop of one who is an angel to me, and who has been in a mutually encouraging friendship, for four years. There are many such people in my life, all sent by the Divine, with the understanding that I be an angel to them in return. Some are huggers; others, fist-bumpers; still others are hand shakers or just verbal greeters. The heart connection is what matters most, and all are treasured.

We do all ride together, on what Joni Mitchell calls “the carousel of time”. I don’t quite see myself as a captive on that conveyance, despite what the great poetess exclaims. Nonetheless, it is a joy to find myself, increasingly, in the company of noble beings and to be able to educate those of good heart who face challenges.

The woman mentioned at the beginning of this post allowed that her dependence is perhaps a vestige of the stress under which she lived and worked, in her former place of residence. The environment she’s in now is far more nurturing, and hopefully will relieve her of stress, and that dependence.

The carousel of time does not have to be bumpy, in perpetuity. The new dreams of which Joni sings, in the last verse of the song, are indeed plenty-and there will be more still, “before the last revolving year is through.”

On Behaving Well in Groups

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

August 5, 2022- The old friend could not, by all seeming, help himself. The rash of cuss words just flew off his tongue, for no particular reason other than that they came to mind. The women around us ignored the spate of profanity, and seemed to be in their own worlds. I kept my own diction in a socially acceptable framework, though I recognize that it may have been a good idea to gently and firmly ease him out of that pattern of speech.

It has been customary for parents to stress to their children that they must be polite at home, when visiting family, at a House of Worship, and in the neighbourhood. The best of parents have included school, eateries and stores in that regimen. The idea has been to build a good personal code of conduct. Not embarrassing one’s family has been a good deterrent for most, but not all.

In the Baha’i Teachings, and among others whose social consciousness is elevated, the idea of behaving well in groups, because it is a key feature of building a society based on the oneness of mankind, and because it helps build a listening culture, rather than a knee-jerk reacting culture.

I have come a long way, since 1980, in that regard, especially. There were lapses, between then and now, but they were made reparable by the culture of learning from one’s mistakes, by the qualified forgiveness of those I hurt and by the overarching power of said Teachings, which are to be applied personally, with minimal, if any, social pressure-yet have the force of practically reinventing a person, by stressing one’s strengths and letting weaknesses flow out and fade away.

I choose to act as a counterweight to boorish personalities, these days, while remembering all the times when I was one of them-and not wallowing in those memories.

Mitote

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 4, 2022- Once, there was a skilled teacher of mathematics, who told himself that there was nothing he could do right, anymore-not even teaching mathematics. That man helped me break my fear of math, and got me to understand how relatively simple it all is. I reminded him that what he did for me was certainly true many times over. His own self-talk, perhaps reflecting the criticisms of others, was unfortunate and unnecessary.

Don Miguel Garcia, in “The Four Agreements”, writes of mitote, (mih-TOH-tay), a Toltec word meaning, essentially, the fog of self-deception. It is the same as the Hindu concept of maya, or illusion. I have thought of this quite a bit lately. Yesterday, a friend and I were talking about the liberating feeling one gets, when not “wearing a mask” in the process of trying to impress another person. Fakery is discerned by most people, even by those who want to embrace one’s false image.

For so many years, I bought into the image of myself as less than those around me. The illusion was bolstered by a lack of physical coordination, and was dispelled only through military training and the maturity brought by marriage and fatherhood. With my mitote clearing, life has become more fulfilling-not easier, as that is not the purpose of this life, but infinitely more fulfilling.

There have been those who try to foist their own mitote on me, and on others. I am grateful to have had the strength of discernment, when it came time to deal calmly and firmly with such folks.

Bill Russell

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 3, 2022- On July 31, one of the greatest professional basketball players to push forward, even when he was tired and feeling out of shape, took his last breath. Bill Russell did not compromise on a good many things. He spoke off the cuff, a good many times, sometimes alienating long-time personal friends and infuriating those who felt “victimized” by his vitriol.

I have been one to look carefully at the anger expressed by people of colour-even when they object to the term “people of colour”. In 1968, when Martin Luther King was assassinated, the reaction of far too many people in my town was, essentially, “good riddance”. At the high school, the next day, the two African-American students were not, to my knowledge, directly threatened, but a small group of male students stood, within earshot of one of the boys, and said what a great day it was for America. Not that many years later, a half-in-jest, half-in-earnest movement was begun to celebrate the life of James Earl Ray, Dr. King’s convicted assassin. It never went far, of course, and Dr. King’s stature has grown, over the years, while few remember Ray, or the doctor who supposedly put a pillow over the reverend’s face, thereby completing the act.

Maybe because I was something of an outlier, or because my personality is given to inclusion of everyone, active racism has made me sick-whether it came from other Whites, Asians reacting to White hubris or any other group exhibiting a sense of superiority. None of us walks on water; none of us is created by other than the Almighty. I have had to acknowledge, and gradually jettison, the racial blind spots and ingrained attitudes that were imparted by those of my elders, and peers, who did not examine their behaviour’s effect on those around them. While not loving them any less, I could not continue to hold those attitudes, or ignore areas where I needed to grow.

Bill Russell might have glared at me, had we ever met, and I may have had a hard time dealing with that, but in the end, his pain-coming from all the way back to his childhood, youth and young adulthood, became my pain, too. I learned from the anger of my fellow soldiers, the guarded indignation of people on the street, here and there, and the righteous chastisement of a beautiful, articulate woman at a Baha’i event, of all places, that “Bring thyself to account each day” meant what it said: Not to wallow in self-pity, not to flagellate oneself, but to acknowledge flaws and grow out of them.

Rest in Power, Mr. William Felton Russell. You were one of the good ones, and one of the greats.

The Quiet Moon

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

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

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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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Striving, Uncategorized

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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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

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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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social

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

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.