Everywhere, and Nowhere

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April 17, 2021- Eight years ago, I passed through the town of Magdalena, New Mexico, as it had run out of water, for the first time in memory. Since then, Magdalena has managed to keep its potable water supply above the minimum. The area is not “high growth”, so there has been a positive response to water conservation.

Arizona, southern California, Utah and Colorado, along with other parts of New Mexico, are high growth areas, with no corresponding stability in their water supply. We, in central Arizona, find ourselves in a place that is both appealing to those looking to relocate AND is in a period of lesser precipitation. The southwestern part of what is now the United States has known drought that has lasted as long as 400 years. During that time, the indigenous peoples of Arizona, California and Nevada packed up and left for other places which were not experiencing as severe a lack of precipitation.

The present, more transactional, society is, at least for now, both more numerous and more resistant to relocation, than were the somewhat simpler communities of the First Century, A.D. It is not hard to imagine just what chaos would ensue, in communities both densely populated and centered on high rise residential building, should the situation that faced Magdalena-and Cape Town, South Africa, a few short years ago, overtake them.

The present social climate has more than its share of denial-based, most likely, on the inability to imagine a world of dry taps. The technology for mass building of canals and distribution of water, from half a continent away, does not yet exist, nor does the public will to look into the matter. It will, however, present itself as necessary-and possibly as soon as the tail end of my lifetime, which is, as many of you realize, not all that far off.

We will need far more rain this summer, than has fallen in the past several years-and a much higher snowfall, come the winter of 21-22 and beyond, if the worst case scenario is to be averted.

Indy

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April 16, 2021-

I have had the good fortune to have called many places home.

When good fortune meets the people of those communities, I feel the greatest joy.

When, on the other hand, tragedy strikes, it hurts my heart equally as much. Indianapolis was my home for a scant five weeks, in 1969.

I learned the skills needed to run a successful postal operation, and in particular, the skills needed to handle accountable mail. Only for the hiring freeze of early 1972, did I turn aside from being in the Registered, Insured and Certified cage, and follow through with a career in education. End of digression.

It was a maturational five weeks, at Fort Benjamin Harrison, in the leafy near suburb of Lawrence, and I began the slow, halting process of taking on a man’s responsibilities. Indianapolis has had a piece of my heart since then.

Many return visits have come to pass, since then; all of them have been times of welcome. So, it was with intense sorrow that I read, this morning, of the slaughter of eight people at a Federal Express site, not far from the old “Fort Ben”.

The debate about gun ownership will go on, and on. I know one thing, though. I was taught firearms safety, respect for a weapon and what it can do, at an early age. The men who taught me that respect would be aghast, livid, at the laxity with which the mentally ill are allowed to possess and use firearms, at will.

They were the true patriots of their time, and they cared enough to demand discipline-especially when it came to matters of life and death.

Heal, Indianapolis, as Boston, North Charleston, Atlanta, Blacksburg, Orlando, Sutherland, Fort Hood, Tucson, Las Vegas, San Bernardino, Aurora, Boulder, Jonesboro, Roseburg, Parkland, Newtown, Columbine and countless other communities have been healing, for so long, in the name of living in a free society that struggles to understand what freedom really means.

Bernie Madoff

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April 14, 2021- In 2008, when many of us were already experiencing financial setbacks and unanticipated high expenses, I received word that some who were very close to me had been bilked by Bernard Madoff and his pyramid schemes. One of these people was able to recupe much of what Madoff took, through other, wiser investments. Others are still feeling the effects of the entirety of their losses from that time.

Bernie did not “make-off” with very much, in the end. He died this morning, in a Federal prison, having outlived his two sons and having seen his once incredible fortune siphoned off by the Federal government and the more fortunate among his creditors. The fact that he lived a lie, for nearly forty years, off of other people’s money is a cautionary tale, and nothing else.

None of the grand experiences he may have had, during his halcyon days, could have come close to balancing the horrors that Bernard Lawrence Madoff visited upon himself and his family. His sons are dead; his widow lives on, and however comfortable her circumstances may seem to the outside observer, no sane person would trade places with her. Indeed, one can only call upon our Creator to exercise His mercy on her.

May the likes of the level of unconscionable greed, which the world witnessed in the 2000s, never be seen again.

Sane and Intelligent

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April 13, 2021- I watched a small segment of a newsreel from the World War II era, which included a Disney cartoon, promoting payment of taxes as an act of patriotism-one of many ways in which the average citizen of that time could support the war effort, through personal sacrifice. Along with dehumanizing the opposing forces of the Axis (Germany, Italy and Japan), the appeal to acceptance of taxation, recycling, conservation and not spending on oneself was made so that the bulk of the nation’s resources would go towards support for the Armed Forces.

Defeating the most formidable opponents the forces of democracy had yet known required a fair amount of such sacrifice-and the burden was shared by Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and several smaller nations. The Soviet Union was our ally, but its citizens were already living under onerous conditions-and knew little of personal freedom. Stalin’s sole recognition of individual dignity came in his decrees that men and women were equal under the law and that every child was entitled to a free education.

We, on the other hand, found some of our freedoms temporarily curtailed-as a means to focus the nation’s energy on defeat of the totalitarian enemy. That presented a conundrum to some people. As the bulk of the opposition to this temporary halt of free expression came from people who were not altogether opposed to the Fascist cause, it gained little traction. Besides, President Truman restored civil liberties, once the war was over.

Baha’u’llah teaches that the practice of a sane and intelligent patriotism is essential, for avoiding the evils of excessive centralization. This makes such a practice all the more vital, for the time, in the distant future, when a system of international governance becomes established. The Baha’i view of such a system is that it is built from the ground up-and thus, the more basic units of social structure: Family, community, city/town, county, state/province/prefecture, nation never lose their legitimate powers. The governance of the planet as a whole depends on the strength of the layers of society on which it is built.

There will always be times when temporary sacrifice is needed, in order to defeat a common threat. Certainly, the current fight against Coronavirusdisease2019 is such a time. That we are learning to make these sacrifices, and are making slow headway in overcoming this threat to public health, is a good lesson in learning what is sane and intelligent, in terms of patriotism.

Islands In The Stream

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April 12, 2021- Most people I encountered today were on point with how their lives intertwine with the wider society. All of the students with whom I worked, save two, were focused and completed their tasks in a timely manner. Of the other two, one is a recent arrival from another country and not sure of his feelings towards this one, as yet. The second has focus issues and is given to being sneaky-which, he found, just brought about more vigilance on my part.

I did my weekly laundry run, after work. There are, quite often, some interesting characters at the laundromat. An inquisitive and energetic five-year-old decided I had a kind face and engaged me in conversation, a couple of times asking if I would join her outside in the “fresh air”. I agreed, the second time, after letting her mother know that we would be just on the landing outside the door. Of course, the Mini- Explorer wandered down the walk, just far enough to bring her mother outside, with the command to get back indoors. I knew she was safe, but it was more essential for Mommy to feel that way. Of course, also, the “Village Watchdog”, a woman slightly older than me, assumed the worst, began scowling at me and muttering about perverts. God only knows how far off the mark that woman was.

People whose sole frame of reference is themselves, whose views on anything under the Sun are rooted in fear and ignorance, are like islands in a slow-moving stream. My mother raised us to try to see other people as they see themselves. It is possible to do that with those who jump to conclusions, yet I always have this feeling that their game of parkour may find them falling short of the next roof, and on the sidewalk far below.

Narrow Passages

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April 11, 2021- This afternoon, one of my friends and I were hiking in a park in Prescott Valley, which is one of Prescott’s sibling communities. We took a trail less trodden and found ourselves, briefly, in a slot canyon. This is a narrow passage, in which it is okay to walk when there is absolutely no precipitation, even remotely in the forecast. Rain and snow can turn even the dustiest creek or river bed into a deathly torrent, for anyone in a slot canyon. We got through the slot canyon and back onto the main trail, with no threat of water overtaking us.

This evening, a group of Baha’is presented an update on conditions on the Navajo Nation, which has had an especially difficult row to hoe, even before the pandemic hit. There is progress being made, in terms of infrastructure (Roads, running water, utilities and technology), but we are talking a decade or two, even with systematic dedication, before the Dineh (Navajo) can emerge from this narrow passage. COVID19 is a torrent that is slowing down their walk, and which has taken too many people downstream.

Indeed, far too many communities are finding themselves in similar slot canyons. We, as a species, and as a planet, are in a collective narrow passage, and vacillate between thinking we can inch our way out of it, by just going on as usual and flailing through the waters of tests and difficulties. There are too many who think this is something that can be negotiated individually-and too many who think that they can just appeal to others to solve the problems.

The fact is, we all are needed to think globally and act locally. Only then will the passage be widened and, with more room to walk ahead, the human race can bring the gifts of each and every soul to bear on the ills that have arisen because of the neglect and misfeasance of the past.

Fluidity

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April 10, 2021- In the past five years or so, I have found myself establishing one after another of close friendships with women of maturity. These have been what I regard as fraternal-sororal, with no hidden agenda on either side.

That this could change, over time, is not lost on me, but the sense that I have now is that my friendships remain fluid. I am happy with the state of each friendship, and that I am doing for each person what she needs from a true friend. Male/female friendships thrive best, when there is a clear and present understanding between both, as to what each other’s needs and expectations are. That makes them no different than fraternal or sororal friendships between those of the same sex.

My life, like those of most others, is also fluid right now, with the status of many societies around the world remaining upended by COVID19 and the various degrees to which each society is responding to the disease. We’re doing better here, and several states are making progress, as well. So, as life slowly and steadily develops a post-pandemic regimen-not necessarily a return to the “good old days” (which weren’t all that great), I am keeping my face masks at the ready (still required for work and some shopping), still offering physical distance from those whose body language seems to want it, and keeping my six-month plan for the first half of 2021 mostly focused on Arizona and the Southwest-with tentative second-half plans for further afield.

Fluidity remains the best policy.

Samaritans

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April 9, 2021- There is a story of a man from Samaria, a region of what is now Syria and known for its enmity with Judea. The story goes that he stopped to help an injured man, on the side of the road, after the man had been left to die, by bandits. From his kind actions, we get the term Good Samaritan. Over time, “samaritan” has come to mean someone who helps strangers who are in difficulty, often stranded in a remote area.

There are many stories of people coming to the aid of the unfortunate. There are all kinds of samaritans: Some, with low self-esteem, seek praise, adulation, recognition and even a reward of some sort. Others may keep a tally sheet, and while paying it forward, seek recompense later. There is the “no-good-deed-goes unpunished” crowd-wanting any misdeeds to be overlooked, just because “on balance” they have helped some people, sometimes. The key to authenticity is knowing just how well one accounts for transgressions, without falling back on what one might have done for others.

I can only make sense of one course for my own state of being. Yes, I know there have been times when I have done good for people, without being asked. There have also been times when people have been hurt, on my account. The one good thing about “samaritan” acts is that no one needs to know about them, other than the recipients of such help. They need not speak of it.

The Power of Observation

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April 8, 2021- When I was about nine years old, I climbed up into a tree across the street from my house. One of my afflictions, over the years, has been getting so deeply into my own thoughts that occasionally I would imagine myself in conversation with others. Yes, that is one of the bigger drawbacks of autism. Unbeknownst to me, another neighbourhood boy was higher up in the tree, for whatever reason, and sat silently, watching my fantasy conversation. It was a shock to me, at the time, that someone I had known for four years would amuse himself, climbing down the tree and gleefully saying I’d been caught.

No matter where I’ve been, these many years, and noticing others- perhaps on the job, like the plainclothes cop who would sit in his car, in the outer edges of the parking lot at the grocery store where I once worked or the random individuals I have encountered, deep in the woods, some sitting and meditating-others taking photos of people on the trail, it strikes me very intensely that we are ever monitoring one another.

I have been more present and focused, as the years have rolled on-and haven’t been nearly as off-track, even when completely alone. Certainly, being a husband, parent and school official, responsible for the well-being of vulnerable people, has brought the necessity of such focus vividly home.

If nothing else, one accomplishes more, when in touch with physical reality. Friendships are also deeper, both when one is being observed and is being observant. This all may seem self-evident to the neurotypical, but it is quite striking to someone like me.

The Reluctant Conspirator

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April 7, 2021- I have been given a strange and whimsical mantle: Conspirator. This came this morning, after expressing my humble opinion that, after death, one enters a different state of being. One of the others in the coffee house stated, matter-of-factly, that our afterlife is another shot at being human, on planet Earth, and that any argument to the contrary is an attempt to rid us of our earthly freedom. To that individual, there is nothing else in the Universe, but the creatures of Earth. I am, therefore, trying to obfuscate and distract freedom-loving Americans.

Hmmm. Perhaps next will come the claim that non-English speakers are destined to be reincarnated-as English-speaking Americans. We have gone half circle, it seems-as there was once a time when belief in reincarnation was anathema to political conservatives. At any rate, once the honour of being a conspirator was foisted upon me, I did what any craven oppressor would do- quietly went back to my crossword puzzle and half-empty cup of joe.

The ruckus continued, across the room, as the ruffled feathers continued to rant-about everything from chemtrails to The Virus. I’d like there to be a good deal less air pollution, and IF there is spray being sent us, to dumb down the masses, or IF the virus and its attendant vaccines are part of the Master Plan, well I’m opposed to such deviousness, in all its forms.

We are, however, put here to develop our spiritual qualities-not to hand off responsibility for our growth to someone else, either by giving it over, or by blamecasting. If any of the conspiracy theories are proven true, I will resist control from above. Come to think of it, I will resist control from any direction. I was given a brain for a reason.