The Road to 65, Mile 150: Sagarmatha

2

April 27, 2015, Chino Valley-  Nepal, and the Himalayan region in general, is suffering deeply from the effects of Sunday’s earthquake and the ongoing aftershocks.  A great deal of attention is going to the Westerners who are stuck on the slopes of Mount Everest.  To be sure, the deaths of climbers are as tragic, in their way, as any other loss.  Trekking is a key source of revenue for the Nepalese, as for those in Indian Sikkim, in Pakistani Swat and in Bhutan, which is only recently opening up to the mountaineers.

The immediate concern of most of the international community, though, is the plight of ordinary Nepalese.  The one silver lining for them is that the Himalayan winter is drawing to a close, and the monsoons are a ways off.  This gives the army of native and international aid workers a chance to accomplish the slow, painstaking work of clearing rubble, burying the dead, healing the injured, replanting fields and initiating long-term reconstruction.

These are orders as tall as Sagarmatha, the Sherpa name for Mount Everest.  The process is as delicate as the ice sheets which now present an obstacle to several climbers who are trying to descend the mighty overlord.  It will require fortitude as enduring as the great mountain itself.

There remain, though, the vagaries of the News Cycle, and by Wednesday, much ado will again be made of the Clinton Foundation (about which, more later) and due attention will be paid to Baltimore (about which, more tomorrow).  The marriage issue will also supplant matters abroad, for a time.

I am neither young, nor financially wealthy.  The skills I would bring to the table, were I to go to a disaster area, would be the ability to teach the young, a well of compassion and the willingness to get my hands dirty, doing whatever is needed to rebuild the community. I am unlikely to just jump on a plane, though, and show up with a bright, but determined, face.

These are my scattered thoughts about the shattered and beautiful land and its people.  For now, I will finish the academic year, comforting those closer to home, getting a rootless man on his way to a better life in another state and pushing forward with my Spirit Quest to the northwest coast.

The Road to 65, Mile 148: Slingshot Day

4

April 25, 2015, Prescott– I woke this morning, at 2:35, got shaven and dressed, then headed down to Phoenix Zoo, where an Oral Cancer Awareness Run/Walk was being held.  My volunteer position was the Raffle Table, where I sold tickets, oversaw the placement of tickets in various jars that were in front of prizes being raffled, and encouraged a couple of high school students who were walking about the grounds and selling tickets, as well.  The activity was most enjoyable and our happy mood drew many more people to the table, as they were curious as to the joyful atmosphere.  The old saying goes “Laugh and the world laughs with you.  Cry, and you cry alone.”  I have always found that to be a bit harsh, but I will go with the first part of it.

Around 8:20 AM, I left to go back up to Prescott, the reason being that I also planned to help out at the School Garden Project, at Mountain Oaks Charter School, where I have a loose association with the administration.  Plus, Slow Food Prescott has made school gardens a priority, and I support that group’s legitimate activities, even if I don’t always like the people it attracts.  Anyway, I got back home, napped for an hour, and got over to the school in time to put together a woven bamboo fence, in front of the back vegetable garden. After a quick lunch, the project ended with weeding a section along the front fence, and spreading manure, for the sunflowers, gourds and corn that were planted there.  These activities, also, were done in a joyous atmosphere.

That’s what service should be.  Contrasted with the sometimes grim and guarded posture that I find myself adopting, when dealing with aggressive homeless veterans, today’s activities were a breath of fresh air.  Tomorrow, I will focus more on paying respects to my departed friend, who served others constantly, in her own way.

The Road to 65, Mile 146: Inward

8

April 23, 2015, Prescott-  Today was a mixed bag.  I had a good day at school, helping several students deal with technophobia and connecting with, encouraging, another autistic person.  I will return to that school again on Monday.

Home was a bit different, coming back and finding my client in the back yard- looking quite at home, which was not part of our agreement.  I left him sitting there and went about my business. As it stands, I am driving him to Kingman, AZ on Sunday, and from there he is to board a bus to Las Vegas and points northwest.  He wants to head to Oregon; at least that was the plan, yesterday.  There are two days intervening, and I sense a pair of heels digging in.  This will be a push- and-pull, to the very end.

Downtown was bustling this evening.  Tomorrow, there will be a Mountain Bike Race.  It’s great for business, but I will be as far away from there as possible.  I find the bikers very arrogant and aggressive, even when they are not in the heat of a race.

My response to pushy, argumentative people is to stand my ground, as long as is prudent, then to turn inward and guard my spirit.  I feel this will be the case tomorrow and on Saturday, just as it had to be on Tuesday evening. On Sunday, the pushy, argumentative person will have little choice but to follow through on his promise- to me and to himself.  There will be peace in the valley, and here on this hillside.

The Road to 65, Mile 143: The Veil

2

April 20, 2015, Prescott- Several people with whom I am either close or am at least aware, are approaching the spirit life.  One passed this morning, in Missouri.  A young lady lost her dog, in a street accident.  Several others are very close to passing.  A dear young woman in another city was severely beaten, and will be scarred for a long time to come.

This is a very cruel time, between April 15-20.  We’ve endured three national tragedies during this time period, in years passed, and today saw the comfort of the peaceful Boston Marathon, five days after the second anniversary of its date with tragedy.  We will not know the extent of the casualties in the refugee ship sinking, off Lampedusa, for some time- but it was an enormous loss for mankind.

I have had many communications with beings on “the other side”. I loved them as people, and still feel they are guiding me, day by day. When I get flustered with demanding, or emotionally needy, people on this side of the veil, gentle thought waves encourage me to be patient.  I also get guidance regarding my small and big decisions, as I have mentioned before.

This evening began the twelve day Ridvan Festival, during which we mark the Proclamation by Baha’u’llah, of His Mission on Earth.  This took place in April, 1863, so it was an auspicious time for Baghdad, where the event took place, and for all the planet, in energy waves which it may well take most people a long time to ascertain.  There is much communication back and forth between us and those who are in the Spirit Realm, at this time, just as there is during the Day of the Dead, on November 2. That which we sometimes call the Veil, is then more like a mirror.

The Road to 65, Mile 141: Concerted Effort

2

April 18, 2015, Prescott Valley- I had the pleasure of helping break down tables and put them, and the chairs away, at a Stand Up for Veterans event, here in this town of 46,000 people, just east of Prescott.  I had cleared my calendar for the afternoon, but we were done by 3 PM.  I was never so proud of one of my hardest working friends here, as I am today.  Her efforts, of over three weeks, paid off handsomely, and the point was made that we, as a community, are caring for all vets.  It is a constant, concerted effort, and there has been one common thread throughout all of this:  Men and women have worked tirelessly together, with no thought of selves or credit, to get an event started, which will hopefully continue to complement the “Stand Down” event that happens in the Fall, and has been successful for many years, in preparing homeless people for winter.

Of course, much remains to be done in that regard, as we have seen this past winter.  Helping those who don’t want shelter, but still want to be acknowledged on a daily basis, is a work in progress.  Yavapai County Angels, to which I belong, is a fledgling group that will be able to do more, as time passes.  I have enough to do, also, with my Baha’i work, wellness advocacy and teaching, to make the sixteen months after returning from my summer travels a very fruitful time.  Speaking of produce, I have some packets of seeds to plant in August, so yard work will be part of the mix.

My client, too, is finally starting to get the picture, and has made great strides of late, in re-establishing his life.  He will, very shortly, be back entirely on his own.  I know how hard it is to get to that point, and it took my recent accident to fully get me feeling on my own.  There is nothing like a concerted effort.

The Road to 65, Mile 140: Happy Returns

6

April 17, 2015, Prescott- I returned an item that was particular to my Kia, and got money back, that will be useful tomorrow.  A few hours later, I returned to a neighbourhood trail, the Turley Trail, named for a man who was instrumental in starting the Prescott Circle, which begins at “P” Mountain, east of town, and goes in a 360 around the Bean Peaks, Sierra Prieta, Thumb Butte, Granite Mountain, Pioneer Park and our northeastern lakes, then back towards Lynx Lake and again to “P”.

The Turley is 2.5 miles, one way, and traverses four ridges, before ending at a Prescott Circle marker, in a forested ravine.  I’ve written of it before, but here are some views from yesterday.

“P” Mountain is not directly accessible from this point, but it’s quite an inspiration, nonetheless.

SAM_4787

Here is the gap between the first and second ridges.  This is a moderate hike.

SAM_4790

On return hikes, I focus more on the small.  Wildflowers are a bit past peak here, but still captivating.SAM_4791

The quartz and granite caught my eye, at several points along the way.SAM_4794

SAM_4795

SAM_4798

Finally, here is a cave, which I don’t remember seeing last time.

SAM_4799

It’s probably an animal lair of some sort, so of course I contented myself with this particular view.

Finally, the journalist David Brooks was on NPR, discussing his book on returning to a community-centered ethos.  More on that, later.

The Road to 65, Mile 138: The Best Defense

4

April 15, 2015, Chino Valley-  Whilst covering a classroom full of third graders today, I was told by two of the girls, independently of one another, that they had to run from a man who had tried to snatch them into his car.  Both said that their parents had kept them safe, once they got away, and that the police had been told.

I showed each of them, vicariously, how to get free of a person who had them in an armhold, from behind.  The heel of a shoe is a good, solid defensive weapon, when thrust backward at a would-be captor’s shin.  It is important to note that, in neither case, was a weapon being brandished by the assailant.  That, of course, is a game-changer, though not one that can withstand a little person’s ear-splitting shriek!

Today marks a year, since the abduction of over 200 school girls by Boko Haram.  The Nigerian Army has been unshackled by the country’s new President, and along with forces from neighbouring countries, may well have more success in crushing the brutes of the Islamic far right.  We can only pray, in the meantime, for the safe return of ALL children and teens who have been kidnapped or conscripted by the forces of darkness.

This brings me to the concept of defense against physical and sexual abuse of children, anywhere.  The first line is always the individual’s realization that no one, at any time, has the right to abscond with his/her body, or mind.  These are given each of us, by the Creative Force, and we relinquish them to others at our long-term peril.  Secondly, family must defend the child’s well-being, with no regard for monetary gain, promises of support from the transgressors or, in the worst case, giving in to one’s psychological or emotional weaknesses.  Thirdly, the community must support the child, hopefully with the family’s blessing, but unilaterally if the family is found to be the source of abuse, or in league with the abuser(s).  There was a movement, in the 1980’s, to shift the focus of sexual abuse prevention away from the victim, towards “giving the abuser a chance at healing and redemption”.  This was a terribly misguided effort, and set back the healing of thousands of abused children.  I was glad to be part of an education effort, in the 1990’s, which reset the focus back on awareness and prevention, with treatment of offenders conducted separately, away from the programs that were concerned with the victims.

When I was accosted by a pedophile,at the age of fourteen, I was able to stand up to him and not be cowed by his loud threats.  Nothing further came of his false bravado, and my life has gone on, with normal relationships with girls and women, in the years since.  The best defense remains a solid first response of N-O!

The Road to 65, Mile 137: Safety/Warning

2

April 14, 2015, Prescott- Towards the end of my work day, this afternoon, a young man asked to use the restroom.  The wind had blown the door shut, so he had to push hard against the door, but to no avail.  I tried the door, and found it jammed shut.  I sent the student out through the back corridor, while one of the young ladies in the class worked on opening the door, eventually succeeding.  This whole incident, which I reported to the front office, brought back memories of locked doors in places like Providence, RI and Dhaka, Bangladesh- doors whose locked status spelled doom for large numbers of people.  I would have been able to lead the kids outside, through the back way, had there been an emergency today, but what if some were to panic?

This evening, I attended a gathering of Slow Food Prescott, and several local events, for the next several weeks were announced.  While walking home, after the meeting, I got a waking message from my spirit guide:  Do not leave town, unnecessarily, until May 21.  There was an inkling that, had I stayed here on Holy Saturday, April 4, and tended to getting a certain person to move, I would not have generated the negative energy that led to my crashing the Kia.  There was a further message that, aside from an Awareness Walk and a dental appointment in Phoenix, the week after next, there were things on which I needed to focus, here.  I looked at the list of events which could use my assistance, and made the connection.

These seemingly disparate incidents just serve to point out the need for a wanderer to have a base, and for the base to need a wanderer.  My connections to the wider world are shared by people here, with whom my own tentative bonds are sure to get stronger.

The Road to 65, Mile 136: The Last Such Gift

2

April 13, 2015, Prescott-   I completed my online Defensive Driving class, this evening.  Then, I went over to the Tow Lot and retrieved the license plate to the defunct KIA.  A round of machine work and deep heat massage at Planet Fitness completed the ritual.  I am back into the routine.

The loss of my 2007 KIA Optima marks the end of my direct, day-to-day connection with Penny’s side of the family.  The house has given way to the apartment, and the KIA to the Nissan.  Penny will never give way to anyone.  If I enter into another relationship, it will parallel my now spiritual tie to the most effervescent, heart-centered soul I have ever known.  She has guided me into friendships with other women, and I’m sure this process will continue.  The central bond is always there, by the Grace of God.

The last gift I received from her, in the tangible sense, was an investment, the core of which I will guard and do what I can to help grow.  It is this which has helped me, in turn, show responsibility and pay various homages to both her father and to those who came long before us, both here in North America and on the continent of Europe.  It is this which helped me honour our son, on his return voyage from Hawai’i to California.

The last gift from the Light of my life is generating seeds of its own.

The Road to 65, Mile 135: Stratified and Dissatisfied

0

April 12, 2015, Eloy, AZ-  

SAM_4786The day broke, generally cloudy, but for one bright spot of blue.  As I gazed at where the sun was illuminating its cloud cover, the blue spot just below it showed a face, of sorts.  I took this to mean that the spirit world was telling me that today will be a productive one.

We did go through a lot of material and set the stage for a lot of “heavy lifting”, in terms of connecting with the wider society.  As I said yesterday, to the apparent consternation of many, we Baha’is are no longer hiding on the fringes of humanity.  We have much to offer, and will work shoulder-to-shoulder with all people of good will, in remedying the ills of the planet.

Some have asked me, “What sort of people do you favour?”  Answer:  Human beings.

“Where do you consider home?”  Answer:  Earth

“Is it not necessary to separate people into groups, so as to make sense of our human condition?” Answer:  Perhaps, but not in the sense that some are seen as better than others.

I detest social stratification.  I have never met a physically dirty person who can’t be made presentable,either by his/her own hand or with the help of others.  I have yet to meet a wealthy person whose heart can’t be touched to the point that he or she generously gives of self or of resources.  Stratification of society serves, essentially, those who for one reason or another fear contact with certain segments of society.  “It’s just easier this way.”, I’ve been told.

We each have our preferences.  I am drawn more readily to some people than to others, and likewise, some are drawn to me, more than to, say, the President of the United States, or to a surfer at Doheny Beach.  None of this, however, means that we must exempt any particular group of people from our lives.  I’ve rubbed shoulders, so to speak, with high and low alike- and some of those, at both levels, have been a bit on the seamy side.  None are beyond redemption.

Those who categorize others, to a great extent, may find themselves dissatisfied with certain aspects of their lives.  I’m not surprised at this, because in the act of pigeonholing others, one is limiting oneself, and one’s choices, as well.  This doesn’t mean we must, in Pollyannish fashion, approve of every aspect of everyone else’s lives.  Rather, it means, simply that an effort to understand, and then to find a place in one’s life, for as wide a variety of people as possible, makes for greater satisfaction.

Those were my thoughts, as we prepared to end the weekend’s consultation, in this Desert Rose.

SAM_4774

SAM_4779

SAM_4780

SAM_4785