Category Archives: Personal goals

The Road to 65, Mile 138: The Best Defense

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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

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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

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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

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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.

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The Road to 65, Mile 133: Silver and Gold

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April 10, 2015, Eloy, AZ-  Three of us took a drive down here, from Prescott, this evening, and will spend the better part of the weekend in conference with about 50 other people, on the relationship of the Baha’i Faith to our wider society.  I will write more about that, in the next two posts.

More urgent for me, today, is another consideration of my expanding and evolving circle of friends.  I don’t use people, nor do I let myself be used.  Some “friendships”, in days long past, have ended abruptly, once I got the idea that the person was not to be trusted.

All in all, though, I am very rich, in the friends department.  I will not want for hugs, warm greetings, and help when I need it- from my longtime friends who, as the old song says, are “gold”.  Neither will they want for reciprocity from me.  I have recently made more new friendships, and let the silver stock build also.  These friends, two in particular, bring artistic bounty to my world.  I have missed that, somewhat, since Penny’s voice was stilled.

I thought of this, on the way down, as I momentarily felt alone.  There was something else, also. When there is disagreement between people, however slight, one must have the presence of mind to know that there are others who will reassure each person, and help their respective journeys resume.  We need both “silver” and “gold” friends, to reinforce the structure of our own self-worth.

The Road to 65, Mile 132: Nissan Altima

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April 9, 2015, Prescott-  I purchased my 2005 replacement vehicle this morning.  After a ten-mile test drive revealed the Nissan Altima to be everything I had been told about it, I completed the relatively short purchasing ritual, drove it home and got the insurance in order. I also arranged renter’s insurance, for good measure. Life is returning to normal.

I am midway through my Traffic Safety Systems online course.  Hopefully, the 3/4 point will be reached tomorrow afternoon, and the course will be finished by next Wednesday, leaving me to schedule the proctored final examination, pass it, and so inform the Justice of the Peace.

April still saw a slight loss of income; the Pacific Northwest and southeast Alaska await, in summer;  the real push for financial recovery will begin in August, and I will have until November, 2016, before another non-family-related journey looms.  The Nissan will help me through the bulk of it.

Inside myself, that’s where the growth is happening.  I reflect that so many mental and spiritual toxins are being removed, have been shed, since 2011. I am far more cognizant of where I need to proceed. Last year, an apologist for the Santa Barbara shooter accused me, in rather vile terms, of being one of the underlying causes of the misogynist’s actions.  I had to give even his baseless invective a measure of consideration.  None of us are crystal-pure.  Yet,  I have to say that my desire for the women in my life is to see them, first and foremost, realize THEIR dreams and map out THEIR futures. This was where I arrived, after five or six years of marriage- and it is here that I comfortably remain.

The accident, my only one in 48 years of driving, has proven a fulcrum for moving forward with growing spiritually all the more intensely.  That, and I have re-learned several salient points, about driving and about life, that were imparted to me, all those years ago, by Coach Len Wall.  Saturday evening, I had no “out”.  Now, I have several.

The Road to 65, Mile 130: Catharsis

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April 7, 2015, Prescott- Often, on Tuesdays, I feel a sense of foreboding or ennui.  I’m not quite sure what has brought that on.  Today, however, I felt a very strong sense of purpose.  The idea was to make the search for another vehicle front and center. So, after clearing my calendar for the day, I headed over to a lot, not far from my home.

It is a clean, well-appointed business, with a large and clean office that is brightly-lit.  There is nothing seedy about the establishment, or its owner.  I walked around and looked at a dozen or so vehicles, finding none that particularly suited my fancy- except one.  A gray Nissan Altima, the second vehicle I examined, drew me back for a second look.  There was an energy coming from this inanimate creation, if one can believe such a thing.

The remorse and sadness I have felt, over losing my Kia, has started to melt away.  I know it is all because of all the memories and the service that automobile gave me.  It’s also because I let myself down, and did not maintain my regimen of safe driving.

Seeing a vehicle that is in fine repair and has  a good maintenance record is cathartic.  I am re-energized and back on track.  The energy that seemed to take a negative turn, with the accident and the Blood Moon, has returned to an upbeat level. Later this afternoon, I did laundry.  The antagonistic people who are there earlier in the day, had left.  A young man, who was not familiar with the dryers, put too many coins in his.  As his clothes were finished, with over a dollar’s worth of time left on the machine, he asked for a refund, from the manager.  This, of course, was not possible. The kid offered me the dryer, and went to leave.  I gave him the quarters for the time that was left.  Adults do not take advantage of their juniors, or of anyone else, for that matter.

Today was Arizona Gives Day.  I did send a small amount to a Yavapai County children’s fund.  We have more youngsters suffering here than one might think.  I find them constantly on my mind.

Well, there is something about just getting up, moving past ennui and getting the big stuff done.  The cathartic effect of something as small as mailing an envelope, my first order of business today, generated energy to get the car search underway, which in turn made the rest of the day reveal random opportunities for service.  Life means rolling, ever so carefully, over the speed bumps.

The Road to 65, Mile 129: Aftermath

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April 6, 2015, Prescott-  I am off work for a few days, mainly to complete the disposition of my old vehicle, which will be greatly missed, and to tend to things, like laundry, which are no longer a routine drive down the street.  Today’s retrieval of my camping gear and other items from the Kia, and a trip to MVD for a document, had to be coordinated with friends.  This will be a “new normal” for a few days.  I have to make time to visit a dealership on Sheldon Street, tomorrow, and price/select a vehicle which I can buy with cash, then get the cash, and hopefully be back in wheels by the weekend.

Not everyone is so lucky.  My person was not badly affected by Saturday’s accident.  I have the sturdy design of the Kia to thank for that.  My high school driving instructor, the late, great Len Wall, would have been aghast at my driving, at that short point in time.  He’d have railed at me, as he did, to my ultimate benefit, on a few occasions when I was under his tutelage.  The result of his passionate instruction was forty-eight years of safe driving, with only one previous accident, which was a slide on ice and did not result in any appreciable damage.  I am determined, I will resume that record.  An AARP safe driver class will supplement the court-ordered Traffic Safety class that I will take online, over the next few days.

I have to get to work again, and thanks to a few good friends, I won’t have to turn down work, after tomorrow.  Then, too, are the various meetings and gatherings, which may be easily taken for granted, as to accessibility.  It is good to be in touch with what so many have to face, each day, without a vehicle of their own.

One other thing:  As I was walking back from downtown, this evening, I greeted a street person who was sitting forlornly on a bench.  A well-dressed man approached and offered the man a room for the night, at the nearby Hassayampa Inn, a well-appointed establishment.  There are so many fine human beings in this world, and we do well to acknowledge them, as they appear.

The Road to 65, Mile 128: Risen

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April 5, 2015, Prescott-  Easter was important to me as a child, for two reasons:  The first was that it meant the end of hearing of Christ’s suffering, which I could not understand until my teen years and the second was that there was lots of candy.  The first part bothered me because Jesus, to me, has always been the Epitome of Love. I could not see any good reason for either the chief priests’ persecution of Him, nor for Judas’ betrayal.  The second part had a relatively brief shelf life.  My parents never bought Peeps, preferring jelly beans, Jordan almonds, creme eggs and chocolate bunnies.  I outgrew all except chocolate, and occasional Jelly Bellies (during the Reagan years, especially).

Nowadays,as a Baha’i, I recognize spiritual truth as being progressively revealed, across human time.  Christ brought a focus on letting God deal with peoples’ iniquities, on overcoming tribal affiliations, on loving others in spite of their shortcomings.  He also brought the Sword of Truth, not making excuses for one’s behaviour, but challenging oneself to rise higher on the spiritual plane.

Closeness to the Light has had its place in the hearts of men for a multitude of millennia.  There have, however, been limits to awareness, and a tendency to revert to the mores and customs that pre-date a Spiritual Messenger, as soon as that Messenger has departed this earthly life.  So it was with Moses, with Krishna, with Gautama Siddhartha (Buddha), with Christ and with Mohammad.  Those outside a given religion, or with a perfunctory understanding of it, see mythology as creed, hearsay as doctrine.

When Christ was crucified, the Romans reported that He had cried out:  “My God,My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”  In fact, an examination of the Aramaic and Greek, shows an affirmation of His role as Saviour:  “My God, My God, for this I was kept”.  His Rising, then, is a spiritual act, a confirmation that the Word of God can never be silenced.  Baha’u’llah tells us as much, in The Hidden Words:  “My Light can never be extinguished.  Why dost thou dread extinction?”  The Creator does not abandon His Creation, or the creatures that comprise it.

Easter, then, is a day to be universally celebrated, a key point along the collective spiritual journey of Mankind.  Without Christ’s ultimate sacrifice, we would have no way to comprehend the Call to Nationhood, of Mohammad, or the Summons to the entire human race, of Al-Bab and of Baha’u’llah.  Without His having resurrected the despairing souls of His Disciples, by appearing to them after the Crucifixion, there would have been no Christian Faith, and the journey of mankind would have been a more immediate, and far deeper, descent into the Dark Ages than it actually was.

These are only my own measured opinions, yet no matter how much I ponder this most essential of processes, I arrive at the same conclusion I drew as a teenager:  The Spiritual Teachers are vital to our overall well-being and there is no daylight between any One of Them, in comparison to the Others.

The Road to 65, Mile 127: Light and Shadow

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April 4, 2015, Cherry, AZ-   On any given day, there are hundreds of possibilities, for both good and ill.  I set out this morning for Tonto Natural Bridge, looking to explore the northern approach to the Bridge, via Pine Creek Trail.  I had gone the southern route on my first visit, last Fall.  The link between the two is a six-inch wide ledge, that is navigable by hugging the rock face, for about three feet of trail.  I have declined to so navigate.  My purpose in hiking is never bravado or machismo, but understanding.

I spent about an hour there, looking at the remnants of a waterfall, above Pine Creek, and walking along the creek, going through the small caves above it and marveling anew at the Natural Bridge.

The slight sprinkle of fluid, at the “waterfall” is not done justice by a mere photograph.

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Pine Creek Trail, on the other hand, means lots of boulder hopping, along the creek bed.

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The basalt, which makes up much of the area, may be examined up close.

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This is the consummate Southwest- constant interplay between rock and water.

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Small caves abound, north of the Natural Bridge.

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You may see the first of my confirmations, as the two ledges meet.

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Segments of the Bridge show escape hatches for the light.

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I stood, contemplating the Natural Bridge, for about ten minutes, while encouraging those who had selected to traverse the narrow ledge between the north and south sides.  I can’t see the thrill, but they felt it.

After a satisfying lunch at Early Bird Restaurant, in Pine, I headed over to Pine Trailhead, for a five-mile roundtrip intro to the Arizona Trail.

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Actually, I have walked about three miles or so of the Trail, in Davidson Canyon, near Tucson.  The Trail itself runs 807 miles, 795 of which go directly from the Mexican border to the Utah state line.  The other twelve miles circumnavigate Flagstaff.

I chose Oak Springs Trail, which takes one across Highway 87, over to a Reservoir and up to a ridge line.

Spring is springing!  These looks like houndstongues, but I could be mistaken.

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There was no mistaking the horned lizard, however.

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I rested at this little nook, just east of a reservoir, called Bradshaw Tank.

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I did not go all the way to Oak Spring, choosing to save the majority of this magnificent trail for another time.  There were some anomalous sights on the way back:  A memento of a previous hiker’s visit;

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A scene of life that is emerging;

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and finally, my second confirmation of the day.

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I headed back down towards Camp Verde and Prescott, after that.

There is an interesting pullout, on the way up to the Mogollon Rim, at Mile 13 of the General Crook Highway.  This area is closely associated with the unfortunate conflict between the U.S. Cavalry and the Tonto Apaches, as I have explained in a 2012 post on  Fort Verde State Park.

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Thus was the interplay between light and shadow.  Little did I know, driving down the switchbacks and along I-17 towards Hwy 169, and home, that this drive would likely be the last, for my trusty Kia Optima.  Its brakes locked, as I approached the stop sign at the 169 just a bit too fast, and ended in a ditch.  Two hours later, my car, shattered windshield, deployed air bag and all, was in a tow yard.  I was at home, explaining to those closest to me, by phone, what had happened, as my client listened and offered his own support, while organizing his possessions for Monday’s move.  The State Patrol and the judge in Mayer are sympathetic, but still say I need to take an online Traffic Safety course.  Yes, indeed,  officers, and Your Honour.  I will take the course, treat my scrapes and scratches, work with the insurance company, get back to mobility and not take anything for granted, ever again.

Happy Easter.