The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 20: The Two Trees

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June 20, 2020-

Today, north and south reach their respective Mid-Year Solstices and either bask in the slowly fading long days or eagerly await the slowly approaching time of the Sun arcing towards its apogee. I will be among the former group.

In a gathering, this morning, it was noted that an old, and fading, tree is at the center of our world. It is the Tree of ‘Ism. Its branches include materialism, socialism, communism, nationalism, capitalism, racism-and the largest, but most decrepit of all, elitism. Each has had the twin effects of attracting human beings, with a once bright, shining allure and of dividing those same people from one another.

This tree has sustained humanity’s physical aspects, even while casting a shadow over another tree that has grown up alongside it. That is the Sacred Tree-the true Tree of Life, which has had its trials, facing down blights and molds, which have emanated from the Tree of ‘Ism. These blights and molds have included contentiousness, egoism, lust, greed, covetousness and recklessness. They have produced wars, genocide, economic depression, sectarian strife, divorce, rape, child abuse/neglect and human trafficking.its

The Sacred Tree, in its turn, has sent life-giving spores to its seemingly more powerful neighbour. These have included inspiration, scientific knowledge, faith, co-operation, diversity of life and awareness of natural resources. Those that the Sacred Tree have kept for itself have led mankind to a higher level, even if many have not recognized the Source. Those who haven’t, have instead been focused on the glitter and sparkle, of the Tree of ‘Ism-even when the Sacred Tree’s own Messengers have found Themselves attached, in one way or another, to a branch or even a cross, fashioned from the Tree of ‘Ism, as a means of punishment or sacrifice, devised by the beguiled, at the instigation of the elite.

This state of affairs is coming to an end, as the Tree of ‘Ism, rotted at its tap root, prepares to collapse. No one of its branches is any longer capable if sustaining the burdens placed upon them. Little shoots have migrated from that old tree, and are growing in the shade of the Tree of Life. These are the future Trees of Responsibility, and will for at least a Millennium offer prosperity and success, based in the solid ground of unity.

The planet is preparing itself, for their emergence.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 19: Juneteenth

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June 19, 2020-

I relaxed, this evening, with a group of African-American entertainers and public figures, presenting a Facebook Live performance called Black Wave 2020. There were a wide variety of musical styles and civil presentations by competing office seekers. There was no vitriol, no cussing, and no displays of rage.

There was a very up front, definite commitment to acting towards justice, towards the systemic changes that need to be brought to bear. There was also the understanding that there will be resistance to such changes, and a few racists did show up in the comments section, to spew their nonsense. All in all, though, we who were watching were genuinely interested and appreciative of the show.

Change has to be made, and it has to be deliberate and transparent. We cannot have the history of THIS day and age presented to the people of the Twenty-second Century, in a sanitized form. That will take fortitude, and commitment. There are those who don’t understand the Oneness of the Human Race. I heard from one such individual today-with regard to the rights of unborn children, in his view, not mattering to anyone other than religious zealots. There are others who, don’t understand that People of Colour don’t want to be regarded with special treatment-just regarded with dignity and respect.

Growing up in a lily-white town, albeit in suburban Boston, I had to learn the reality of People of Colour, piecemeal: The African-Americans in my childhood and adolescence were authority figures: The cafeteria monitors in our Junior High and the first police officer to give me a speeding ticket. I’d have been punished, very swiftly, once I got home, if I ever gave them any lip. That told me that real African-Americans were not any different, to my parents, than anyone else.

Indeed, watching Saturday morning cartoons, one day, when I was about eight, a character who was supposed to be Stepin Fetchit came out with “Everything I do is always wrong.” That cut through me like a switchblade. I asked my father why anyone would say such a thing. He told me that Black folks were conditioned to act that way, having been enslaved for over 200 years. He also told me to show all people kindness and treat them fairly. I often thought that if I ever met the actor who played Stepin Fetchit, that I would shake his hand and tell him he was a wonderful person.

There were, though, some tough conversations, awkwardness and hard lessons, that came my way, in young adulthood particularly, in learning the nuances and basic decencies of overcoming some very deep-seated social beliefs. I am glad for all of them.

The Baha’i Faith lends spiritual weight to the notion that all people are created equal-All ethnicities, male & female, all age groups, both neurotypical and disabled, all points of view-so long as they don’t preach exclusion of others. We view all life as sacred,from conception to death. Independent investigation of truth is the bottom line.

Juneteenth, with all this being considered, merits being made a National Holiday- a paid National Holiday. Let it continue to spark thoughts, words and action, to advance the cause of justice- and the increased equality of all people.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 13: Her Burning Light

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June 13, 2020-

This morning, our city said adios, to one of its brightest lights. I only met Brooklyn, a few times, when I substituted in Mile High Middle School (2011 -12) and in Prescott High School (2013-16). There was no mistaking the bouncy, free-spirited, but respectful, studious and reverent presence, who seemed to ever be in the forefront of whatever was going on- whether it was a bit of dancing in the hallway or being one of the first to participate in a class discussion. She loved being a teenager, being part of a large and community-activist family, and being a Christian.

Brooklyn Ashley Mengarelli was equally at home leading a group at her parents’ summer camp, playing with her infant nephew or goofing around with her classmates (doing a puppy imitation, with downturned “paws” and pretending to pant, rings a bell). She had a serious side, though, attending to her school work-and to the mild, but persistent, epilepsy that shadowed her, from the time she was eight. The latter kept her from driving a car. It would eventually take her life. It did not stop her from living that life to the full.

I believe, no, I KNOW that it was her faith that kept Brooklyn going on. There was not a community event, especially Frontier Days, Acker Music Night, and the annual Rodeo, that went without her presence. So, it was also true, was her devotion to the vibrant congregation, of which she was a member. This morning, the city she loved returned that love.

She will shine down on this community that she so loved, and on the young women who took her into their hearts, at the University of Arizona, these past four years. That’s the silver lining to losing our cherished ones. They’re never really gone. See you again, Brookie.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 10: Signals for the Weeks Ahead

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June 10, 2020-

I spent about two hours, this afternoon, with an online group,”Earth Rising’, in the last session of a class, entitled Gaia Calling. Gaia is an ancient Greek name for Earth. The concept of our planet, and all heavenly bodies, as a living entity, goes back to the earliest antiquity and has credence in modern science-particularly in the realms of seismology, geology and hydrology. This class focused on our relationships with both Earth as a whole and with the area in which each of us lives. My Home Base, as many know, is in the basin of three mountain ranges: Sierra Prieta (west), Bradshaw (south) and Mingus (east). It is also the watershed of the Verde River and its western tributaries.

I have been getting spiritual messages, through this group’s interactions, as well as through meditations guided by an Australian Cosmic Advisor, Elizabeth Peru. Guided meditations are similar, in that the meditant is asked to breathe deeply, whilst focusing on a specific area of the body, then expand downward, into the earth, upward into the heavens and outward, to connect with the spirits of others.

These meditations have brought messages, fairly consistently. They have, in earlier iterations, led me to travel where and when I have and to rearrange my homebound life, in the same way. I was guided, most recently, to offer the memorial hike in honour of my late uncle. That it ended up occurring on Penny’s and my thirty-eighth wedding anniversary was an added confirmation from the Universe- a sign from God.

I have signals for the 1 1/2 months ahead, after today’s session. The rest of June is to be focused on faith-based activities, on at least one community festival and a hike on Granite Mountain, my first since late summer, 2014.

The first week of July is to be focused on community events, followed by a week of faith-based observances. I then get a message to make a journey of advocacy, to Chaco Culture National Historical Park, and its environs. The area is under pressure for development of natural gas resources. My journey would last four or five days, and is contingent on both the health status of the people in the area and on whether the park itself is open. The last week, or so, of July is open-ended, but the indications are for a mix of community and faith-based activities.

These forecasts, as Elizabeth calls them, can, like weather forecasts, be changed-but so far, I have found them quite spot on. It’s when I have indulged my own whims, as in 2013, that I have found self off-track.

Pain Body

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May 27, 2020-

There has been, in the time of pandemic, a particularly acute explosion of awareness, of various acts of violence against people of colour, by both those in authority and private individuals; against indigenous or pastoral groups, by those seeking to exploit mineral or plant resources, without having done the requisite research into archaeological and anthropological remnants at the resource site; by those who are ust lashing out at whoever disagrees with them, on a given issue.

The philosopher, Eckhart Tolle, refers to the existence of a pain body, which stores physical and emotional memories of unhealed pain. This concept explains everything from the phantom limb, felt by amputees to the acting out, by dementia patients, recalling an abuse from many decades earlier.

Many are acting out their pain body memories right now. I know what they are feeling is real-I went through the purging of much buried emotional pain, some of it from my formative years, during the period 2008-14. Part of it surfaced, as I was still caring for my dying wife. The rest came out while I was rebuilding my life. It had to all be handled as quietly as possible, so I thought. None of it was Penny’s fault, or our son’s. Most of it, in truth, came from bad decisions I made, or from things happening around me that, for the most part, were no one’s actual fault.

I have reached the point of stasis, so I know that it is possible to overcome one’s buried pain. It involves communication. It involves trust. It involves commitment to self. It involves resolution. It involves reconciliation and forgiveness-especially towards self.

Those who have committed, and are still committing, crimes against humanity are also committing crimes against themselves-whether they tell themselves it’s for the greater good, for the stockholders or for the survival of the community. It is still an injurious act-with no real winners.

Let us all give some thought to healing our pain bodies.

The Silence

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May 25, 2020-

The silence, today, was truly deafening.

There were few speeches,

anywhere in the nation.

There were no mass gatherings

of Scouts, Gold Star families,

Scottish Piper Regiments,

and surviving veterans.

all placing flags,

at gravesites.

There were several picnics

and barbecues,

people in boats,

people in swimsuits,

people wishing one another,

“Happy” Memorial Day.

It’s de rigeur, anymore.

I recall the Memorial Days

of my childhood,

watching a parade,

then going to place flowers

at the gravesites

of my grandfathers

and Grama.

There was a quiet,

the rest of the day,

and I recall reflecting,

sometimes worrying about

mortality.

I’m not sure when

things started to change.

Maybe it was the

unpopularity

of our involvements

in the wars that came

after Korea.

There will always be that debate,

but this remains:

Those who went,

and did not come back

alive,

did not make policy.

They deserve better,

than “Happy Memorial Day”.

All gave some;

some gave all.

Then and Now-The May Version

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May 19, 2020-

Change is a constant, even if some hectoring voice uses that bromide as his mantra.  It occurs to me that there was a different me, sometime ago, which is either fading or has disappeared.

Time was, when I was concerned with how people thought of me, how they looked at me, whether I’d be accepted.  Now, I see others as fellow travelers, even if they go on a path that’s different from mine.  We will all end up at the same place; we’ll just be asked different questions, by the Gatekeeper.  I accept myself, and how I look, so it doesn’t matter how others find my appearance. Besides, more and more people are far younger than I am, so they will most likely just see an old man.  As for acceptance-that starts with self-and that horse came back into the barn, a long time ago.

Then, I tended to patronize people-kids, women, old folks.  I thought it the best road to being regarded as “just folks”.  A rough old soldier called me out on the matter, and I began the long road to seeing humans as eyeball-to-eyeball.  I had made a lot of progress, in terms of being genuine, by 2005. Then, my beloved began to really go into decline and I put my self-care, and development, on hold.  After she left, it took three solid years of struggle, some travel and a fair number of mistakes, whilst on the road, to reach my equilibrium again.

Now, it’s 2020-and getting closer to mid-year.  How am I doing?  I’m good, in place, and once the curtain gets lifted, and I am cleared to be on the road again, I probably will hang on around here- to see how the school situation is shaking out, and if I am needed there.  I will also be even more focused, whether at home or on the road, than I was even last year.  There is a five-dimension sense that has taken over my consciousness.  It’ll be a most astonishing seven months ahead, and even more astonishing afterward.

Siddhartha’s Goal

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May 7,2020-

Leaving home and family,

He glimpsed a glorious goal,

from embracing-nothingness.

Leaving behind wealth and status,

He chose to sit under a banyan,

and encounter His deepest inner self.

Walking with a small bag and walking staff,

He encountered the mountains,

at the roof of the world.

The goal he saw, was a peaceful heart,

completely detached from gold and mire, alike.

He knew there would be suffering,

and He knew there would be solace.

Gautama’s birth, celebrated by His followers,

on this day,

was the start of a glorious journey,

away from bondage and shopworn doctrine.

The cycle has ever been thus.

In Whose Name?

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April 28, 2020-

The current pandemic, like any previous crisis, has brought out the best and the worst of human nature.  There are those in this country who are convinced the ONLY reason that there is a big deal being made about COVID-19 is to keep their favoured candidate(s) for political office from winning.  Their opposites are saying pretty much the same thing about the handling of emergency funds. The bottom line: It’s about ME!

Yes, and no.  Every human being has to take stock of a situation, no matter how widespread or dire, with regard to his/her personal circumstances.  That’s fine, but then. the considerations must become more community-focused, then nation-focused, and, finally, globally-focused.  To their credit, there are people at all points along the political spectrum, and in all Faiths, who see the big picture.  Christians recognize that God is calling us all to the Altar.  Buddhists are having global chants via digital platforms. Muslims have, by and large, not insisted on in-house gatherings, during this season of Ramadan.  We Baha’is, likewise, are thriving with digital meetings, of various kinds, as well.  There are those, in both the conservative camp and the liberal camp, who resist the loud voices calling for “liberation” and defiance of any regulation, on the one hand, and for open-ended quarantine and forced digital identification, on the other.

The future course of action will be decided, in my humble opinion, by conditions that exist at the ground level.  I also feel, very strongly, that the length of the pandemic will be determined, to a huge extent, by how much of a community dedication there is to revamping the way we go about our community life.  Do we respect those who have no choice but to go to work?  Do we respect our children enough to find ways to honour their needs for exploration and activity-indeed, do we respect those needs in EVERYONE? Are we willing to stop the daily dogpiles on those who see things differently than we do, and just listen for once? Do we want to honour the health of our elders and those whose immune systems are compromised?

One of my advisers says that we are rapidly approaching a fork in the road, as to how our society, how all societies on Earth, will go forward.  There will be a choice between communal thinking, based on “the hurt of one is the hurt of all”, and a positive view of the future AND a greed-based, control-oriented mindset (seen on both right and left), with a cynical, negative view of this life.  I, for one, think the choice is quite clear.

The hurt of one IS the hurt of all.

A Higher Decibel Level

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April 23, 2020-

I joined a small talking circle, as part of a weekly class on the subject.  One of the members began talking.  His talk led him from one painful episode of his past to another.  When he reached the end of his often tearful recounting-and expressed gratitude for the place his journey had brought him,  we were all  awestruck, and humbled.

The customary rule of a talking circle is that everyone gets a chance to speak.  With three minutes left, before we were brought back into the Great Circle, the remaining three of us each managed to make a meaningful introduction of ourselves.  It was not a hard thing to do.

These are far from normal times.  The task of those involved in imparting healing energy is, more than ever, to do so one soul at a time.  This was an intense twenty minutes, and I believe it made all the difference in the world, to someone who had likely not been really heard, for a good long time.

He spoke softly, but his story reached crescendo levels.