November 15, 2015, Prescott-
Fingers placed in the pie of another,
must first receive word of his druthers.
Assuming one’s neighbours will concur
with a sordid plan,
shows no keen understanding of fellow man.
The self-righteous tyrants striking one another,
will soon find the True Almighty calling them to account,
and rending them asunder.
November 14, 2015, Prescott- The nice thing about most Saturdays is that they tend to be the most open-ended day of the week. Today, for example, gave me a chance for a haircut, though not to visit the Farmer’s Market.
The trade-off came with the commemoration of one of our greatest Holy Days: The anniversary of the Birth of Baha’u’llah. As I explained a day or so ago, we Baha’is now observe this Day in tandem with the anniversary of the Birth of Al-Bab. The spiritual power of these “twin” Holy Days has yet to be seen by humanity-at-large, but it is felt by me, and millions of others around the world.
About twenty-five of us gathered at the home of a retired physician and a retired pharmacist. We shared the account of Baha’u’llah’s early life and several prayers, then enjoyed yet another fine Persian repast, prepared by the ladies. Among the particular delights were two types of chicken: Rosemary and marmalade. These give me two more ideas for the crock pot, this winter. Lamb meatballs were also delectable, but it would take me lots more practice to get those done right.
After tarrying and conversing with my fellows-in-faith, a bit longer than usual on a beautiful afternoon, I headed home, changed clothes, and course, hitting the trail on Segment 7 of Prescott Circle Trail. The northern half of this segment occupied me from 3-6:30 P.M., and takes in about 4.5 miles, between Watson Lake and State Highway 69.
The area is one in which I have driven several times a week, while glancing over at the wilderness between several industrial parks and one of our major shopping plazas. Today, I got to walk that wilderness. Largely scrub oak forest and tall grass, it traverses an old city landfill, now home to a medium-sized herd of deer, and a pristine valley, looking somewhat like a bowl, carved by two creeks, over thousands of years. Here are some shots of the northern half of Segment 7.
This is a southern extension of the Peavine Trail, part of the Rails-to-Trails Project. It follows an underpass at the junction with Prescott Lakes Boulevard, the connector road from northeast Prescott to State Highway 69.
This scene, and the next one, are atop the former Prescott landfill, now left to area wildlife, and their admirers.
This crushed rock bed serves as a drainage medium.
Coming down off the landfill site, I crossed this dry wash, then went past the Yavapai County Justice Center, a juvenile court. There was no activity there, today.
Several bicyclists shared the trail with me today, coming quickly downhill, into washes like this.
This area, west of a WalMart, of all things, is as quiet and unassuming as any woodland in Prescott National Forest, some three miles further south.
From the ridge above the “bowl” seen above, I had this view of the hazy hills to the west and northwest.
Atop Old Bullwhacker Hill, I saw the southern half of Segment 7.
At the foot of Old Bullwhacker, I found another copse of trees and a dry creek bed, between two shopping centers.
This trail leads to a culvert, through which one may pass under the busy AZ Highway 69.
As I was wending my way back to the Peavine Parking Lot, I got a call from Aram, filling me in on some news from his end. After a ten-minute conversation, I looked down and saw this little affirmation, from the Universe.
November 12, 2015, Chino Valley-
I head homeward,
upon ending a successful day.
Many bright ideas were in view,
As our Science Fair displayed.
Now come the Twin Birthdays,
of Al-Bab and Baha’u’llah.
The Gate and Blessed Beauty,
Behold, and stand in awe!
This verse is in honour of the commemorations of the Births of Baha’u’llah, and His Herald, Al-Bab (The Gate), which are celebrated on November 13 (Al-Bab’s) and 14 (Baha’u’llah), as these are the days on which the Anniversaries fall, when gauged by the Badi, or Baha’i, Calendar, which is pegged to begin with the Vernal Equinox of the Northern Hemisphere (Autumnal, in the Southern Hemisphere). As the Equinox may fluctuate, from year to year, so will Baha’i Holy Days, including the Twin Anniversaries, fall on slightly different days, from one year to the next.
We Baha’is in the Prescott area had a lovely devotional, followed by an incomparable Persian dinner, in honouring Al-Bab, this evening. The same will ensue on Saturday, in honour of Baha’u’llah.
November 1, 2015, Prescott-
Day of All Saints
Time to reflect
Transgressions sometimes taint
If one is not circumspect
Day by day,
hour by hour,
Make amends
No matter how much adulation
Showers.
An ephemeral presence am I
in this mortal frame.
Daily circumspection
shall this inner beast
Tame.
October 30, 2015, Phoenix- I came down here, shortly after finishing my laundry. The first order of business was picking up a list of requirements for me to at long last secure an Elementary Teaching Certificate. I have several other credentials: Secondary Teaching, Guidance Counselor and Principal. Now, towards the final phase of my career, it is high time to complete the circle.
I will need to take three 11/2 hour exams, hopefully on a Saturday, which means heading up to Flagstaff, since Yavapai College, in Prescott, only offers tests when I am working. Flag is a pleasant spot, and I can head up there on a Friday night, after whatever I am doing is finished.
Anyway, afterward, I spent some time with Aram and his good friend, in north central Phoenix, basically getting updates on various matters, and setting tentative plans for next week. It’ll be good to have him in Prescott, for whatever fleeting time I can spend with him after work, and then, there will be Thanksgiving weekend, when we can both relax.
Tonight was another bit of “old home week”, as I joined a few friends on the west side of the Metro Area, at a house which Penny and I frequented, once a month, for nearly five years. The family is one whose children I also watched grow into adulthood; the youngest will graduate high school in May. Some find this a “test”. I find the attainment of adulthood, by those whose births and childhoods I have witnessed, a supreme confirmation. They will do well, these Millennials, and so will the next generation, coming right behind them. Isn’t this part of the wonder of humanity?
I ponder much, in my modest little room, at the Travel inn.
October 27, 2015, Chino Valley- There is a belief, more common than it may seem, that once a relationship becomes no longer of this Earth, the one “left behind” is somehow set adrift, and is on a path that will surely lead to yet another relationship- that IS of this Earth.
I have found this to be applicable to some people. In the universal sense, though, it is just so much hooey. Of course, generally speaking, the only thing applicable to everyone on Earth is that, eventually, we each get to leave it.
When we do, I am of the belief that one who feels a tie to those who have gone on ahead is able to receive guidance from them, and will connect, more intensely, in the life that follows. I am of no illusion that I know the form that life will take, though I doubt it will involve corporeal existence. The tests and trials of a physical life are meant to hone spiritual skills and strengths.
My relationship with the spirit once known as Penny is an eternal one. I feel guided and much blessed, every day. My closest friend is, in the words of a couple of songwriters, one in the ’70’s and one earlier this year, “evergreen”.
October 3, 2015, Prescott- This was a very long day- 5:30 A.M.- 1:15 A.M. The wake-up was necessary, in order to be up in Flagstaff, in time for a Baha’i gathering- our region’s annual consultation session and election of a delegate to the National Convention, held the following Spring. It takes about two hours to go from Prescott to “Flag”.
Once we finished our session, I stayed behind to help with cleaning the hall. I mention this only because what was waiting for me back here was: Manning the Registration Table for volunteers at Hope Fest, a faith-based event at Courthouse Square, followed by breaking down the site, when a concert ended at 10 P.M.
Hope Fest was initiated by Evangelical Christians, four years ago, to help homeless families, and domestic violence victims, with access to programs that alleviate suffering and offer relief from the cold, in the months to come. I joined the effort, because that’s what I do. A lot of people were here today, as they were at earlier events that came to the aid of the disadvantaged: Stand Down for Veterans and Empty Bowls, both in mid-September. It’s what our community does.
Our clean-up crew spent three hours transforming the Court House grounds from “The Day After Mardi Gras” to a place prepared for the next day’s Oktoberfest gathering. Trust me, all three dumpsters in the back were piled high, but the grounds were spotless, otherwise. I left right at 1 A.M., walking the mile to my cozy apartment, my pants soaked with salad dressing leakage, to my chagrin and to the discomfort of a twenty-something neighbour, who held her nose as she walked past. I totally understand- and can’t wait to get all the clothing I wore today, into the washer.
The fun part of the evening, actually, was watching the antics of my supervisor’s three pre-school age children. As late as it was, they showed no sign of fatigue, leaving at 9:45. This newest generation, sometimes called GenZ, gives credence to Alexander Pope’s wry observation. Hope is still springing eternal.
September 25, 2015, Prescott- I spent the day with groups of students, in a couple of Band Rooms- one at Prescott High School, the other at Mile High Middle School. Supervising band, for someone who can barely read notes, is an interesting stretch of my exchequer. Two or three students lead the class, actually, and I am there mostly to maintain order. There are always a few who challenge the authority of whoever is leading the class. Today, however, I needed only remind the assemblage that it is the upcoming concert that matters, and not the whims of the moment. The young people set back to work.
Challenges to authority have always been the lot of the common man. They most always result from a disconnect between the aspirations of the worker and the “Big Picture” agenda of the overlord. So it is with our current crop of candidates for President, with their immediate predecessor and with the Pope of Rome. Seven billion souls are each going to see things differently from their neighbours, from their family members, and even from their former selves-or later selves, for that matter. Baha’u’llah states, with regard to a married couple, “Between them is a barrier, that they overpass not.” By this, He is referring to the DNA-rooted individuality of every soul who ever lived on this planet, and of every soul who will ever live.
I think of this, while pondering the current visit to the United States, by the philosopher king formerly known as Jorge Bergoglio. Pope Francis I is astride two worlds, and receives advice and criticism from those in each world, and from those who regard themselves as living in neither. On the one hand, he seeks to define humaneness as ‘seeing each and every person as a true human being, an individual worthy of respect.’ On the other hand, he, along with every other man who is in a position of sectarian authority- with the possible exception of the Archbishop of Canterbury, sets limits on 50 % of the populace. Women are given only a certain place in the papal firmament- and there is, to his mind, to be no deviation.
Everyone of us has a duality about us. We have higher aspirations, most of which have to do with doing right by other people, and by the environment in which we live. Then, there is the “Me” factor. Self-preservation is a constant weight on our upwardly-springing feet. From time immemorial, this self-centeredness has been given a countenance: The demon. Putting a face on something, especially on a vile something, separates it from us. We go to great lengths to lengthen this distance- with talk of Satan walking the Earth and infesting the minds of the wayward.
In the end, though, it falls to the individual to rescue him/herself. The only one who can take me out of my lower nature is yours truly. The only one who can overcome the deeply-ingrained senses of racism, sexism, class prejudice and nativism that infest so many, is the person who is weighed down by them. Others can only stand aside and criticize, point fingers, or turn their faces away in disgust. They may also offer constructive criticism, which is welcomed by any sincere soul. The change, however, comes from within.
As Krishna is credited with saying: “Point a finger at another, and, behold three fingers pointing back at you!” Godspeed to Senor Bergoglio, and to all who seek a better world. Let them continue to push away the weight that ties them down.
September 13, 2015, Prescott- I spent three hours today, in one of the most worthwhile of endeavours. The Empty Bowls Project is an annual event in Prescott, on Courthouse Square, where so many of our great community events take place. I was given the job of Gazpacho Ladeler. Each of us ladelers gave a contributing patron 6 oz. of soup in either a ceramic bowl, which they had purchased, or in a free Styrofoam bowl. Patrons could come back for second helpings, so one or two of the more popular soups (i.e. lobster bisque) ran out.
Various restaurants in Prescott and nearby Prescott Valley sent a plenitude of soups, most of them hot. The gazpacho seemed to be the only one that wasn’t. Even so, there was just about a bowl left over, when we stopped at 2:10, and the chef came to get her materials. My tangible reward for this effort was two 16 oz. cups of soup, one minestrone and one coconut cauliflower curry. Far greater, of course, is knowing that a substantial amount of money was raised for the benefit of local food banks.
I went back to the house afterward, and finished reading “Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior”, which recounts Dan Millman’s experiences, whilst on Oahu and Molokai. I sat, totally concentrating on the last fifty pages of the book, and journeyed with him through various dimensions and states of mind. He did not use hallucinogens, and I can identify with that, since my own mind can make its way to worlds that hardly make sense, in a tangible context. This afternoon, I only followed his lead.
After my reading was finished, I was given the message to prepare a certain soup of my own. I first peeled the rind off a butternut squash, after cleaning out its seeds and slicing off the ends. Then, I did the same with an eggplant and a red pepper, adding lean ground beef and a few figs, with various seasonings. Turmeric was put in there, for some reason. I don’t usually add it to a vegetable soup, but there it was.
The scraps and seeds were then buried in the backyard, in an impromptu garden plot. I’ve never heard of planting so close to Fall, but that was the message I got- and well, trust the journey. We’ll see what transpires.
I will regard the resulting concoction as a soup of good fortune- celebrating what appear to be doors opening for me, even as a door of friendship, of two years’ duration, seems to be closing. Everything happens in its time.
September 12, 2015, Prescott- Several things happened today. One of my brothers turned 60. I made my usual morning visit to the Prescott Farmer’s Market, and had my usual cup of coffee with a sweet treat. After buying a few vegetables, I encountered my good friends, Happy and Johnny. Since they had a booth at the Market, with foraged goodies from a nearby forest, I spent close to an hour, talking with them, nibbling on things like manzanita berries, sweet acorns and prickly pear fruit. I even peeled and sliced a prickly pear fruit- if you ever get the chance, first double check the rind for small spines. I caught a tiny nub of spine in my finger, but got it out, without any hassle.
This afternoon, lunch was a grilled hot dog, courtesy of a Recovery Group, so I gave them a small donation. Soup from Shannon’s Deli also filled the bill. I went to a memorial service, in mid-afternoon, for the parent of a friend. So many elders have left this year- and many babies are coming, to take their places in this world. I was pleased to see at least seven infants and toddlers, in various places. They are all so busy. I wonder, at what do we start to lose the focus we had as infants, mastering mobility and as toddlers, absorbing so much data about the world all around us.
Happy says, “Breathe in bliss”. I notice that, no matter the constraints put on me, I can do that. Breathing mindfully clears a lot of tension and confusion. It can have an effect on those in one’s immediate surroundings, as well. I am as at peace, right now, as I was when at Tuileries, in Paris, or walking a trail in El Dorado Springs, Colorado.
Sadly, it doesn’t affect everyone. I lost a friend, this evening; but as I heard her voice fading, over the phone, and said my goodbye, a strange calm came over me, and I sat, in perfect stillness, for several minutes. A message came to me: “You are a threat to no one, and if they perceive you as such, perhaps it is a reflection of their own view of the Universe.”
Breathe in bliss. Doors are opening.
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