The Blue-Leafed Vase

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December 9, 2023- “Now, it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the things you can’t get.”-Don Henley and Glenn Frey, “Desperado“.

Two ladies, looking like twins, focused their attention on the titular vessel, and the fresh-cut flowers within. The crystalline surface, and the shimmering blue leaves, take up a small space on the bar at Rafter 11, yet for those ten minutes, the vase dominated the room. A fine singer, named Duane, was belting out covers of songs from the ’50s (Fly Me to The Moon) to the 2000s (Nothing Compares 2 U), yet for that brief time, his efforts were background noise.

The ladies, who were sitting at the bar with my friend, Harry, said they had adopted the older gentleman-a fine thing, as he thrives on the friendships the rest of us regulars offer him at Rafter. Turns out, they themselves have been best friends for 35 years, which they said in response to my observing that they looked like twins. Proximity can rub similarity off on people- something Penny noted, years ago, when we started to ape one another’s habits and proclivities. These ladies were both bleach blondes and about the same height. They dressed just differently enough from one another to be distinctive, and there was enough difference in their facial features to hint at fraternal, rather than identical, twinship. As it happened, though, they were each from a different coast.

When they left, my attention went back to Duane’s music, especially as his vocals pretty much drowned out anything Harry was trying to convey. My older friend left, as he was feeling the day was spent. Duane sang several songs that brought thoughts of my new friend, far away, but ever in my heart and mind. Desperado was among them.

That raised the thoughts of gratitude-or its opposite. I am very much immersed in the former: I have been blessed, a thousand times or more, by all the friends who have come into my life, especially since 2011, and before that, by the woman who gave the best years of her life to me, and whose spirit still spurs me on. There are women and men fifty and older, who are like siblings. There are younger adults, from older teens to forty-somethings, who are like my beloved children. One and all, no one is going to hurt or impugn any of them, in my presence, without a swift rejoinder. A few women from the first group have expressed romantic love for me, and while I haven’t felt the same towards them, their well-being is of high importance.

I am grateful for all the fine things that have been laid upon my table-daily experiences, far and wide as well as local; vivid and exciting, as well as quiet and mundane. I am grateful for the challenges, which have led to refinement of some rough edges. I am grateful for the first that was laid upon my table-the deep love of supremely committed parents and the sibling love that has branched from that. I am grateful that the child we raised is a full-grown, clear-headed man, and happily-married. Now, I am grateful for the friendship of a lady far away, and all the encouragement I feel from the small coterie to which she belongs.

We’ll see where it leads.

Messages at Graveside

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December 6, 2023- I sat by her grave, on this forty-third anniversary of our meeting for the first time, and asked Penny what she thought of my recent trip to the Philippines, and of friends I made there, one in particular. The messages that came back to me were a surprise, of sorts, and a comfort.

After getting a clean bill of dental health, I made my way to the cemetery, and having taken along the chair I am sitting in now, I sat and said a few prayers, then began my silent conversation.

“We sent you there and brought her to you;”, the message came, “there is no reason for your aloneness to go on and on.” I asked about my friends here and elsewhere. “Each of you have a role to play in one another’s lives, but you are not responsible for everyone’s happiness. If they are upset with you for growing your friendship with someone else, that’s on them. Just treat them with grace and patience, as you always did me.”

The spirit encouraged me to keep on with the path that she and others have helped me set for myself, since 2011. Indeed, she has said, more than once, that our life together on this physical plane was not meant to continue any longer than it did. I had growth to do, which required my being alone for a while. That growth, through the love of friends and family, and through the pain of physical and emotional attacks of others, has largely been achieved.

So on I go, and take each day as a blessing, just as I ever have.

Fulfillment

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November 29, 2023- I watched as a man and his little daughter ran, hand-in-hand, towards their car-no winner, no loser, only a team, only a connected pair. Just beforehand, I was greeted by warm smiles from virtually everyone at Planet Fitness. I felt aglow, so the ambiance was a mirror.

Today was a satisfying day-with two acts of service either completed, or finished to the extent that was doable. Over 100 people sent birthday greetings, from Monday night until today. Every one of them was affirming. One, from a new and treasured friend, was the most affirming of all. The royal treatment I enjoyed in Grapevine was the icing on a very rich cake.

I think of all who bemoan the lack of love in their lives. Quite often, it is intertwined with lust-which can negate love, if it takes precedence. It invariably is intertwined with self-centeredness, something with which each of us struggles, at least intermittently. I have yet to meet a happy person who views others as means to an end. That goes as much for a “high-powered” social misfit as it does for one who sees self as “involuntarily celibate”-and there are women, as well as men, who cast themselves in that gruesome bit of darkness.

There was a time when I was in that sad realm-in the late 1970s. Penny came along and dispelled that state of affairs. Even with her passing, my mien has been one of gratitude and deep love, at any of several levels, for so many people. I cannot view anyone as a stepping stone. I learned that saying I love a woman means seeing her as a complete human being, whose central mission is not satisfying my urges and meeting my needs. We met each other’s needs, together. That is the standard going forward, for any relationship that might develop.

So, as I sit here at Home Base, and give thanks for everyone of my family and friends, I also give thanks for the opportunities that come my way to help others uplift themselves.

Seventy-three

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November 28, 2023, Grapevine- So it has come to another re-set, another “trip around the Sun” completed. All that happened during the past year has only made me stronger, and no less committed to what a friend in Manila told me, during my visit there, and my most trusted family members reiterated today: My mission is to love those around me and help them live better lives.

There was another friend, I met in Manila, who would fit very nicely at my side, but I am not quite sure how well I would figure in her life. So, my path goes on, and as the cliche states-“If you love something (someone), let it (her) go. If it (she) returns, so much the better. If not, it (she) was never meant to be yours in the first place.” That’s happened a few other times, over the past twelve, and the ladies are still my friends.

Between now and November, 2024, there are six journeys, three short and three long. Next month, and again in January, take me to northern New Mexico. The first is customary-a Santa Fe and Taos-centered post-Christmas tradition, with a possible errand of mercy. The second will find me at Ghost Ranch, for a week of service.

February will take me to San Diego and, briefly, to Orange County-another emerging tradition. Ocean Beach, especially Samesun Hostel, is practically Home Base #3. I have to remind myself that I am NOT staff, and can be only just so much at home, particularly around some of the more officious staff people. Still, it’s a marvelous place to spend a day or two.

May, and the first week of June, will be my Back East time-with a return to Cape Breton Island and Newfoundland. It will also be post-Covid catch-up time, with a few friends in Indiana, as well as family visits to Maine, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania.

Mid-July to the first week of August will see two visits to Carson City, as bookends to another Vancouver Island trip, and long-delayed visits to BC’s Sunshine Coast-and Four Worlds International Institute.

That brings me to Journey # 6, which will find me in a part of the world I’ve not been in before. Details will come, as the time for the visit gets closer. It will take in the latter part of September, until November 1. Suffice it to say that I have promised friends in that area, that I will visit them, for several years-and intend to make good on this, God willing.

Here in Arizona, there will surely be many opportunities for continued service-and visits to southern Arizona, in late January and to both the South Rim and Jacob Lake (weather-permitting) in mid-March. Early July, after the Fourth, will be time on Hopi, just before I head up to Carson City.

Of course, next Thanksgiving, which coincides with my birthday, will be right here in Home Base #2. It will be another milestone, well worth celebrating.

Actual Vacation, Day 7

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November 26, 2023, Grapevine- “1845 was the year that the Union joined Texas”, the young waiter intoned, tongue firmly in cheek. With that, my advance birthday dinner began, with what turned out to be endless lemonade (from Rio Grande Valley lemons), followed by Fort Worth filet mignon and oven baked Brussels sprouts, poblano meatballs and, for Son, a Game Combo of venison and quail drums (breasts and a leg). We can safely say that the plates, while not Texas-sized, were more than ample. The desserts were Texas-sized, and we’ll leave it at “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire! I did have a sparkling candle in my pumpkin crispy, as word got out that my birthday is forthcoming. 1845: Taste Texas is top of the line, in fare and in style-no corners cut. It was a meal for the ages.

Before that, though, we took in the wild side of Dallas, and I don’t mean riding a mechanical bull. Cedar Ridge Preserve sits on the south side of Big D, and is intended to offer safe space for butterflies, birds large and small, and the small carnivores that keep other species in check. As the name implies, cedars are the dominant trees. There are a few ponds, here and there, but what sets this stretch of prairie apart from elsewhere in DFW Metro is the ups and downs offered by the 10-mile trail system. This park could be at home in Prescott. Needless to say, it was a good workout.

My little family on the move, Cedar Ridge Preserve
One of four stream crossings along the trail
Aram and Yunhee headed upstairs.

It was a fine cap to the Thanksgiving weekend, and a prelude to the end of my 73rd trip around the Sun-which comes on Tuesday. I also fly back to AZ on Tuesday evening, so this dinner fell nicely into place.

Now it’s time to look back at June, July and August. As with other months, people left. Some had checkered public records-Pat Robertson and James Watt left us, a day apart. Ted Kaszynski had a scary public record, finally taking his own life, in early June. Leslie Van Houten didn’t take her own life, but certainly took those of others, so many years ago. Cormac McCarthy wrote, tellingly, of other people’s checkered lives. Daniel Ellsberg warned us of same. Sinead O’Connor hollered about injustice, and sounded melodious. Dame Glenda Jackson astonished us, on stage and Paul Reubens made us chuckle, with his puckish wit. Robbie Robertson made us think, while honouring his First Nations family. Lahaina, Hawaii practically perished as a community, in a freakish wildfire.

Closer to my circle, the queenly countenance of Wilma Ellis left us Baha’is behind, for the spirit realm. Childhood friends Rodney Lavoie and Robert Ritchie passed their batons to their beloved children. A cousin, David Wonoski, passed suddenly and my last living uncle-by-marriage, Dave Dufour, saw the end of a long, varied and colourful life. JR Cline, with whom I visited twice on cross-country journeys, saw his long and valiant fight come to an end.

My path went to three camps, all carefully managed to the best of my ability. WiFi did not fade out this time, thanks to my iPhone. Other local homages were to a good friend who turned 60; to the Granite Mountain Hotshots, who perished ten years ago, at Yarnell Hill; and to the summer solstice, on, where better, Solstice Mesa, in north Prescott. I sat with a dog, later with cats, and tended to people’s needs at Hope Fest, which came early this year.

Travels were both long and short: A hike in honour of the departed Hotshots, at the State Park established in their names, preceded the 10th Commemoration, in downtown Prescott. A return to Bell Rock, near Sedona, brought variations in light into focus. A Grand Canyon visit, to the west side of South Rim, had to be cut short, when a deluge closed the main road heading south. I made a detour, through the Navajo Nation and Flagstaff, as I had an appointment in Prescott, the next day. July 17-29 took me through the Mojave Desert, Central Valley, Oregon and Washington, to British Columbia. There were visits with Baha’i friends in Ashland, OR, Victoria, BC-and, sweetest of all, a performance in “The Wizard of Oz”, by a girl I look upon as a grandniece, in Carson City. In each case, my visit seemed to have an outsized effect on the host’s sense of well-being. That’s actually the hope, wherever I go. New friends were also made in Ludlow, CA; Medford and Salem, OR; Centralia and Chehalis, WA.Richmond and Nanaimo, BC. That’s also the idea. Zipping down to a dental appointment, on two hours’ notice and zipping back up to get my trusty vehicle serviced, after a long trip-that’s also the idea.

As August ended, I headed out to a Baha’i school, the House of Worship in Wilmette, and mother’s milestone celebration. Many are those who fill my heart; she is first among them. The people I specifically visited, these three months, are also in that category.

Actual Vacation, Day 5-

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November 24, 2023, Grapevine- Turkey Day leftovers made for a nice lunch, as they tend to do on “Black Friday”, and for days afterward. The day is crisp and clear, and many are headed to shopping malls/centers for Deals on Wheels-and on just about everything else. Son and I are not among them. He is taking a short break from the academic grind, and I am just taking a break, in general.

The Universe has not taken a break, of course. I learned, to my sadness, that an extended family member lost her spouse, a few weeks ago. They were a tightly-bonded couple, yet thankfully the family branch from which she comes is equally tightly-bonded, and will help her take one day at a time. Having been in similar shoes, a dozen years ago, I will keep them both in my heart.

The Force gives, as well as takes- 24 people who were kidnapped on October 7 have been released by their captors, in a prisoner exchange. Those freed by Hamas will go back to their homes and families, for a bittersweet Passover. Those freed by Israel will go home to their families, and face more uncertainty, at the conflict may well continue.

As is my wont, it is that time of year to look back at the past twelve months. This time, let us consider them, a quarter at a time. December, ’22-February, ’23- saw several leave our midst: Three stalwart Legionnaires, Gene Smylie (whose wife had passed a few weeks prior), Corky Hintz and Dwight Peters each had an outsized influence on the affairs of Post 6. Theirs will not be easy shoes to fill, but it looks like people are stepping up nicely. An old Baha’i mentor and friend, Bob Riggs, went to join his wife, in the spirit world. Celebrities, who influenced me in oblique ways, also left: Christine McVie, Barbara Walters, Jeff Beck, David Crosby, Raquel Welch, Gina Lollobrigida.

December-February provided many substitute opportunities, some of them for multiple days. Anything I can do to help children thrive is worth waking in the dark. Community service slots, at Solid Rock’s Monday night dinners, helping break down the Saturday Farmers Market, serving as co-host for Saturday morning Zoom calls and whatever the Red Cross needed, filled several days. Hikes and meals with friend Akuura also kept me physically on an even keel.

What made the biggest difference though, was going into an intensive weight reduction program-with heavy duty exercise, a strict meal plan and more resolve-courtesy of Ben Filer and True North Nutrition. As of February 28, I was well under 200 lbs. Dental health remained good, as did the skin scene.

Journeys always take their places in my world- a three-day California visit, in December, reconnected me with Ocean Beach and I found my spot there: Samesun Hostel. I also accomplished a hike down to Trestles Beach, San Clemente. House of Trestles was nearly deserted, but Harpoon Henry’s, in Dana Point, was delightful as ever.

February took me to southern Arizona, for a few days. Return visits to Boyce Thompson Arboretum and to Bisbee were coupled with introductions to Biosphere II, San Pedro House, the town of Patagonia and Nogales’ Pimeria Alta Museum.

Next up, a look back at March-May.

Actual Vacation, Day 3

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November 22, 2023, Grapevine- There are all kinds of journeys to be had, in this life and beyond.

While exercising, back at Home Base, last week, I watched a segment of an “adventures in car repair” show, on the Motor Trend Channel which, as you might imagine, has several such programs. The journey that one crew undertook, never brought them much outside their shop, their supply places or their test drive circuit, but it was certainly a fascinating peregrination.

The vehicle on which they were working had one functioning part: The drive train (actually, only the flywheel). Everything else, from the transmission to the windshield wipers, was messed up, beyond imagining. Somehow, they began work on turning the heap of metal into something resembling a useful piece of equipment. It took them seventeen months-and $48,000 of the owner’s money-but it came off the rack as good as anything out of River Rouge or Smyrna.

Almost as exhausting, to my imagination, was Julie Powell’s cooking of every recipe in Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”. Not falling victim to a miasma of conceit took a lot of energy, though criticism from Ms. Child certainly must have helped, in that respect.

There are other such journeys of mind and heart. I have gone on a few: Reading every book in the Harry Potter series, followed by reading every existing volume of George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire”-preceded, long ago, by absorbing each volume of John Jakes’ “The Kent Family Chronicles”. I see where Mr. Jakes passed on, earlier this year. His work was what rekindled a love of the printed page, that had been dampened, over the years, by one thing or another.

Writing is, of course, another path I can take. In my Xanga days, some whimsical stories came out of this imagination. I lost track of them, when Xanga folded and no longer have access to that medium’s successor sites, which own the rights to everything anyone ever wrote on Xanga. Still, there may be some fiction forthcoming on this Word Press, if for no other reason than to keep the travel blogs from getting tiresome to my readership. Then, there are growing different vegetables and fruit, learning to repair different items, increasing fluency in different languages and so forth-all good for brain and body.

There came a sad notice that one of my former students, who has struggled with health issues, since a terrible auto accident, some years back, is entering the final phase of this life. I certainly pray for his comfort, and if possible, recovery, but passing on is, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha once described it, “yet another journey, for which one should carefully prepare.” May the best thing happen, in his case, as in that of anyone who is close to transition.

We soldier on.

Actual Vacation, Day Two

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November 21, 2023, Grapevine- There is a small gym here, at Terrawood. It has about half of the Full Body exercise machines that we have at Planet Fitness, back at Home Base 1. So, I got in some elliptical work, leg stretches and curls, chest presses and shoulder presses-as well as getting the steps in, right after a hearty meal of bulgogi with gochu-jong (hot pepper paste), over rice. Snacks and meals are faithfully followed by exercise here. There is even a nieghbour who works her treadmill on the front porch.

I am definitely happy that there is more emphasis on both eating healthily and exercising regularly, in this suburban Dallas community. Even shopping does not have to be a sedentary affair: Grapevine Mills is right across the street from four of the apartment complexes that line the boulevard.

There is no set agenda this week, so naturally, I used some time to reserve rooms and ferry space, for next May’s Atlantic Canada visit. This is more because the spaces fill up fast, for places like St. Pierre & Miquelon and Twillingate. At any rate, those ships will sail, with me on board. (The main event, a milestone for the Baha’i community of Eskisoni, on Unamaki/Cape Breton, is the post around which all these other plans revolve.)

This ship is floating nicely, also with me on board. “John Adams”, courtesy of the late David McCullough, is here at my side. My little family is forging ahead, with their respective goals, the work week being suitably short, before America’s de facto second National Day. The main thing, for me, is that everyone close to me has their personal agency intact. That is what will generate a feeling of inner peace, and eventually an atmosphere of understanding and good will shall return.

As we prepare for whatever form people choose to express gratitude, I want to express my appreciation for the First Nations people, like the Osage, who are still here-despite all attempts to shove them aside, as is depicted in “Killers of the Flower Moon”. Manipulators and thieves are ever with us, and will ever claw their way to the top, unless we learn to discern-and make it an integral part of who we are, as individuals and as communities.

What’s Missing?

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November 13, 2023- Today is one of two days this week with no outside schedule, per se. So, of course I went down to Century Lounge, to sit and chat with my friend, Marianne, the barista. While we had a few minutes, before the upstairs tenants and streetside regulars came in, M asked me if I was homesick for Prescott, whilst in the Philippines.

I have not given that notion much thought. I do not miss one place, when I am in another-largely because there has been so much that is comforting and wondrous, wherever I happen to be. Certainly, I’d be “homesick” were I in a war zone or in some other captive situation-but, as it occurred to me, in another situation today, there would be scant comfort and wonder, in such a place.

That said, I certainly miss friends here, when elsewhere and am glad to see them, once back in Home Base. Likewise, there are people I miss in many other places of the heart, when here-and thank the Lord for the digital connections we now have, to augment the telephone and the mails. (I thought of someone from whom no one has heard in a while, and thus sent her a message. I will be very much concerned with the response.)

We each can only be in one place at a time-and my loci do not depend on permission, per se, from anyone who interposes self in other people’s lives, my own included. This has caused a rift with someone I’ve known for many years-and is discomfiting to a few others. To equate availability on demand, however, with trustworthiness, is a false equivalency.

I have three key work assignments, this week, followed by a day helping to install smoke detectors, in a town three hours west of here. Then there will be ten days spent with family. All else remains in the realm of prayer.

Hours of Power

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November 11, 2023- Settling in, to enjoy ninety minutes of pulsating, original rock songs, by one of Prescott’s most pulsating, original bands-The CheekTones, I was pleasantly surprised when two young ladies I had not seen before sat themselves at the table, joined, for good measure,a few minutes later by two of their male classmates, then by a shyer, more reticent girl.

The first two asked me general questions about my day, and how I enjoyed The Raven-and the CheekTones. It turned out they were mostly there to support one of the boys who was playing a song with Don Cheek and his band. The kid can play! His parents were there, for the moment-as were these classmates. The girls spoke a bit about their after school jobs-shopping cart jockey, beverage pourer at a local burger joint and juice bar attendant. The boys had nothing to say. Then we all turned our full attention to the band.

Don has had a band presence here, at least since I moved up from Phoenix, in 2011. He has been mentoring young musicians for probably twice that long. He inspired, and supports, another local band, Scandalous Hands, who appear regularly at The Raven, as well. The two bands do 95% of their performances in Prescott clubs and outdoor venues-going, every so often, to Sedona or to Parker, on the Colorado River. Such energy conservation has its benefits-and is rather common, to local bands. It’s a huge reason why their performances here tend towards the intense, the explosive and are so inspirational to young artists.

The kids excused themselves, after forty minutes or so, to go do teen-specific activities. They popped back in one more time, towards the end of the concert, just so I wouldn’t think it was because of me that they left the first time. Nah-I was there once, long ago. It was good they stopped back in, though. I had the young guitarist’s finger warmers on the table and would not have been able to return them, save through Don-who has enough to concern himself.

There was a lot of power in the air today. It is categorized, by astrologers and cosmic advisers, as an Eleven Master Day-meaning that its digits, 1+1+1+1+2+2+3, add up to eleven. A pair of ones, written side by side, are also seen by the mystics as being pillars of both male and female energy.

Today was Veterans Day, and there was a long parade, part of which I watched, before heading to Farmers Market, to tend to the only service day I could offer there, this month. In early evening, I sat in on a Healing Devotional, hosted by someone who was attacked last month. She is on the mend, though, and is still working with police in her community, to try and locate her assailant, before another attack happens.

Each of these events had a power of its own, as did the initial responses to my joining subgroups of nextdoor.com. It has never been easy for me to accept compliments and positive views from others, but that is changing-at long last. It does not have to conflict with personal modesty-and is good for building the energy flow that I need, in order to accomplish what lies ahead, both here and further afield. One friend says my travel is foolish, but deep down inside, I think she is only masking her own wish for a more expansive life, something that those who controlled her life for so long would never allow.

Each of us can move ahead, and as long as we support one another, in our struggles with our own egos and with those who would try to stifle us, for their own ends.