Upholding the Timeless

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December 26, 2020- “Stand, there’s a cross for you to bear, things to go through if you’re going anywhere.”– Sylvester “Sly” Stone

Kwanzaa celebrates what its founder, Maulana Karenga, identified as seven traditional African values, with a day set aside to celebrate each of the values:

  1. Umoja (Unity): To strive for and to maintain unity in the family, community, nation, and race.
  2. Kujichagulia (Self-Determination): To define and name ourselves, as well as to create and speak for ourselves.
  3. Ujima (Collective Work and Responsibility): To build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our problems and to solve them together.
  4. Ujamaa (Cooperative economics): To build and maintain our own stores, shops, and other businesses and to profit from them together.
  5. Nia (Purpose): To make our collective vocation the building and developing of our community in order to restore our people to their traditional greatness.
  6. Kuumba (Creativity): To do always as much as we can, in the way we can, in order to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it.
  7. Imani (Faith):  To believe with all our hearts in our people, our parents, our teachers, our leaders, and the righteousness and victory of our struggle. ” -Courtesy of Wikipedia.

One of the topics of discussion at our Christmas gathering, last night, was the underlying fear that people have of ideas that seem counter to American values. If one looks at what is celebrated during Kwanzaa, the festival is all about building up a community-without the taking advantage of the least among us, which, when one looks carefully at both the complaints of conservative small business owners and self-styled “socialists”,is a common concern of both groups.

No one in their right mind wants to be a “useful idiot’, the kind of dupe of which Vladimir Lenin bragged about having fooled, after the Bolshevik Revolution. Cooperative economics, which lends itself to ownership by the workers in an enterprise, rather than by the State, ought to be compatible with American entrepreneurship. I have visited a cafe, owned by a traditional conservative couple, for several years now. Their skills at consulting with their workers and the team that has been built, have established an admirable example of how even the busiest of enterprises may be managed in a climate of equanimity. I have seen the same, in another business, owned by cooperative socialists. This has been the strength of American workers, in the past, and there is no reason for that atmosphere to go away.

It is authoritarianism, regardless of social orientation, that presents the problem for people on both ends of the sociopolitical spectrum. The struggle, referred to as Imani, is primarily a shared experience, with both traditional conservatives and those wishing to alter our economic structure, for the good of the marginalized, wanting to hold back what they see as tyranny.

For both viewpoints, self-determination is a critical goal.

WHOSE Child Is This?

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December 24, 2020-

Approaching the celebration of the Birth of Christ has always, in my experience, been mainly a time of revelry and the lifting of spirits, in what some regard as the season of death. Yuletide was, prior to the Christianization of western Europe, a similar expression of wonder, at the Creator’s giving us the exquisite night sky at the same time as the daylight shortens. It has likely ever been thus, even when the Celts were living on the Eurasian steppe. Those who headed east, from that same area, have similar rituals to tide them through the winter cold. That there is an accompanying debauchery is unfortunate, and is part of the reason why so many like their worship of God tied up in the fairly tidy box of doctrine.

Jesus was likely born more towards Spring, but why quibble? Christmas and Easter being separated as they are, in different seasons of the calendar, keep the story of God come in the Spirit of the Son in a position of prominence, reminding those who follow the Teachings of Christ that His Presence is eternal. They come as a reminder of His Work, and of the Example that people do well to follow.

There are those, of every Faith, who want their spirituality tied up in a box, questioned by no one and protected from any other creed. Every religion, since the days of Noah, has had its fundamentalists. I admire their fervour, yet the fact that God keeps sending Messengers every 600-1,000 years or so, ought to tell us all something. The Creator, His Messengers, and Their Basic Message, are perfect. Our understanding and interpretations of those Messages, not so much.

The Child Whom God sent, and Who He later sacrificed, doing Himself that from which He spared Abraham, came to teach everyone. Not all listened, and so three Messengers have come, since. Others will follow, a thousand years or so from now, and beyond. That, however, is a story to be told in days, months and years to come. Tonight, and tomorrow, let us ponder in our hearts just what the true gist of Christ’s Message was.

The Process of the Procession

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December 23, 2020-

Most of us are aware, by now, of the initial celestial and spiritual steps towards the establishment of a truly peaceful world, one based on universally-recognized principles, which may be equitably applied across a plethora of situations.

The process of that world’s unfoldment, however, will be both steady-and very slow. In a few days’ time, humanity will, to varying degrees, honour the Birth of Jesus the Christ-on the date arbitrarily chosen, ages ago, for its celebration. We will also be remembering the period of time when Nazi Germany, acting the part of wounded bear, struck back at its democratically-ruled foes, with deadly force.

The interplay of Light and Darkness, coming at one of the two periods of great discrepancy between North and South, in terms of daylight, is a unique reminder of the nature of both solar light and human decency. The Sun cannot light an entire planet all at once. Nearly eight billion people cannot move together in perfect harmony, all at once.

There needs to be a means for those whose portion of the globe is experiencing night, to remain safe and warm. There needs to be a mechanism for enlightening those whose recognition of change is either slower than others’, or both listening to and encouraging those whose mindset is rooted in the philosophies and dictates of the past.

There are people of goodwill, who simply cannot see the necessity for change in the way that mankind approaches the formidable tasks which lie ahead. There are others, similarly benevolent, who cannot see the value of adhering to ANY of the practices that are honoured by time. Only education, in a sincere and equitably applied system, can bridge the gap between these two camps. Only education can stem the human tendency to believe whatever notions and pronouncements come forth and verify even the most inane and fear-based of one’s own beliefs.

The procession will go on, but it may, of necessity, be a slow one.

Nothing Succeeds Like Success

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December 22, 2020-

Sir Arthur Helps offered this viewpoint, in 1868. It was an ironic statement, as two years before, Sir Arthur had all but lost his shirt in the Panic of 1866. Since then, the phrase has been tossed out, several times, by snarky commentators, both in support, and in condemnation, of the amassing of personal wealth.

My own idea of success has such an amassing of pecuniary fortune somewhere down on the list of what constitutes actual wealth. I have not yet seen a fabulously wealthy person exude happiness, based solely on the ability to attract coin. There are several more realistic criteria, by which to measure stature.

Friendships are probably the most obvious of these. While in my own life, money has come and gone, (though, at present, it is giving me a modest level of security), friends since childhood are still in my circle, and new people show up all the time.

A secure set of values is even more fundamental to a feeling of success. Secure does not mean rigid, which actually undermines security, by not taking into account the changes in circumstance. Being able to live honestly, while adapting to change, and growing from it, has led to my present homeostasis. It also has enabled a positive response to crises, when they rear their heads.

Baha’u’llah has given us leave to earn financial wealth, as we see fit, and has instructed us to put such wealth to good use, in resolving the ills of humanity and of the planet. Not everyone will amass millions, or billions, yet each can do something along the lines of sharing.

Money has been called “the lifeblood of civilization”. It is love, however, that is the lifeblood of humanity. Nothing succeeds, like the success of attracting and maintaining friendships, and living a life of integrity.

The Christmas Star

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December 21, 2020-

Today being the start of winter, north of the Equator, we look to the days getting longer-a minute at a time. The entire planet also has the bonus of seeing Jupiter and Saturn, still discernable as separate planets, but close enough to one another to complement one another’s light, from this Earthly naked eye’s vantage point. Legend has it that the three Magi regarded the convergence of the two planets, in the night sky of 2020 years ago, as sign of great portent, thus giving rise to the term “Christmas Star”.

I will take anything that lifts people’s spirits, and besides, there are no mistakes in God’s Plan, which includes the orbits of planets around stars. It is no concidence that we honour Jesus the Christ’s arrival in this world, right around the time of Solstice and that the convergence of these two planetary giants in the evening sky should happen right about now, as well. Christmas is rightfully a celebration of Light, as was Hanukkah, earlier this month, and Diwali, in mid-November.

I spent the afternoon of Solstice outside, visiting Prescott’s unsung treasure. Covered in quartz crystal, and thus named Quartz Mountain, the peak of modest height is reachable from either of two trailheads-Aspen Creek, on the north and White Spar, on the south. I took Copper Basin Road to Aspen Creek trailhead, and hiked the three miles each way.

Quartz Mountain, from the Wolverton Trail

I had been here once before. On that Sunday afternoon, four years ago, a family of four was gathering pieces of quartz. I was told by a Forest Service ranger, after the fact, that this was illegal. Since it occurred to me to not remove quartz, myself, well enough was left alone, that day and today. It was enough for me to be in this inspiring setting, during a bright and mild Solstice afternoon.

There was a fair amount of company, in the area today. On the way to the trailhead, I stopped as a family of five deer crossed the highway, single file. The last animal hesitated, then crossed after apparently getting my message that it was safe. On the trail itself were five bicyclists and six hikers, though none were at Quartz Mountain at the same time as me.

So, there was solitude, enveloped by fellowship, as so often has been my experience on these trails.

West face of Quartz Mountain summit
West face of Quartz Mountain summit

I got back to the car, just as it was starting to get dark. After dinner at the Raven Cafe, I went back to Home Base, in time to catch the two points of light that made up the Christmas Star. Sorry, my camera does not take detailed photos of distant orbs.

Autumn’s End

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December 20, 2020-

The season of my birth

once again draws to a close.

Three consecutive twenties tell me

it’s also time to embrace life

with renewed vigour.

It is also, as always,

time to be prepared

for what’s coming.

Some astrologers made mistakes

about this year,

missing the pandemic completely

and cheerfully predicting

the Tokyo Olympics.

People other than astrologers

predict an unforeseen catastrophic event.

What do I see coming?

Nothing.

I’m not one to dabble in psychic phenomenon.

Neither am I one to concern myself

with interpretation of Scripture.

I see only the need to ready myself,

to steady myself,

to be able to help those around me

those I love,

through any form the darkness

may take.

Autumn has ended.

Solstice is here,

and with it,

the hidden blessings

that come

with Winter.

Deep Dish

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December 19, 2020, Phoenix-

Last night, whilst visiting with some new friends, at Sedona’s Synergy Cafe, I got a call for which I’d been waiting. Aram was en route here, to retrieve a few personal possessions that had been stored by one of his closest friends. So, I made plans to zip down to this desert metropolis, masked and covered, to join him and another friend, for Deep-Dish Pizza, at a place called Lou Malnati’s.

We had a bit of a wait for the pizza itself, and so our conversation took off, on several topics, the common thread of which was the need for universal compulsory education. Given the current state of affairs, in which ignorance is prized, in some circles, on an equal level with empirical knowledge, the need for carefully guided enquiry is that much more evident.

‘Abdu’l-Baha advocated a system whereby a child would pose a question and another child would give the answer, thus establishing a discourse-related system of learning. It would thus become far more natural for independent investigation of truth to take root. I regret having largely adhered to a “top-down” imparting of knowledge, for much of my own teaching career. That system would do well to be consigned to the scrapheap of outmoded practices. The teacher-as -guide concept has found welcome acceptance, in many quarters of modern society.

Deep engagement of learning is fostered much more strongly, when learners take prime responsibility for its acquisition.

Blue Star

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December 18, 2020, Sedona-

The tower of strength walked in to the room, where four of us were having an earnest conversation about stars, planets and the Earth-bound, and calmly introduced herself. Her first act after that was to bond with the thirty-ish woman in our group, sharing photos of herself at a younger age, of her grandmother and great-grandmother and of her late first husband, a World War II veteran.

Blue Star is still formidable, at 91, has traveled far more broadly than I and has established herself somewhat, in the literary world. After a fashion, she blessed me and the other men in the circle, and told fascinating stories of her Lakota ancestors, as well as of all the experiences she’s had, driving several times across the nation, and abroad-in Europe and in South America. Self-care, she said, has made much possible, as has looking beyond any current upheavals or mischief at a high level.

The luminous presence has, among other things, operated a coffee house on Charles Street, in Boston, and said the late Ted Kennedy was one of her regulars. She spoke of having walked with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in a few of the marches he organized and of having met Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, in Newport, Rhode Island, at that city’s Folk Festival, in 1962.

I had a newly-bestowed drum with me, showed it to her and gave it a couple of taps with the drumstick, drawing her approval. A scowl from a fellow Baby Boomer across the room put a stop to the tapping, (Why is it that men who are my contemporaries are so often the wet blankets in a group?), as we place harmony over self-satisfaction. Blue Star quietly assured me that the rhythm was good and that there would be many occasions for the drum to aid in my self-expression.

She has a sense of celestial energy about her, and imparts a re-assuring message: ‘It is a restorative thing, to treasure the people and spaces where one happens to be. If the person for whose presence one makes a journey is not available, then those whom one is INTENDED to encounter should have full attention. There are no wasted journeys.’ She was alluding to her own having come to Synergy to visit with the owner, who happened to be elsewhere this evening. The message was apropos for each of us, as various people sat in the circle for a while, then got up and went to an impromptu Blues guitar session in the next room, or wandered outside for the night air.

Blue Star showed me what may well lie ahead, should my fate, as another friend recently wished for me, be one of “iron longevity”. I look forward to seeing her again, at one of the gatherings here.

Little Victories

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December 17, 2020-

Today, I restrung nineteen beads, which had fallen off when the original string broke. I learned to use a beading needle, kept very calm and focused, even when running out of original string, buying another spool, tying the two cords together and summoning my best hand-eye coordination to thread the beading needle and run it through the infinitessimal bead holes. Once again, I have an intact set of Prayer Beads.

As I mentioned yesterday, I completed and mailed off the Beta Version of my life story. It was something put off for at least five years. Seventy is a good place to end the first volume, at least. Maybe, there will be a second one.lse

Not sleeping in is actually a good thing. When asked whether I favour sunrise or sunset, I have to say I enjoy both,

The bottom line is that small things that I get myself to do are of special significance, just because so much has taken me so long to master, even if the task is “easy for everybody else.” Correct me if I’m wrong, but there is no “everybody else.”.

End of Humble Bragging.

Keeping Responsibility

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December 16, 2020-

Although, for all intents and purposes, I am retired from teaching, there have been various times of ruminating and reflecting on continued responsibility in the community and beyond. Certainly, everything to do with counteracting the current pandemic remains a duty for anyone old enough to know what a disease is. Thus, my keeping and using a good supply of face masks; researching vaccines (so as to, hopefully, find one that is not dependent on aborted fetuses for content); and maintaining personal wellness. Honouring the concept of not making further trips to areas where COVID is raging even more than it is here in Yavapai County, (to say nothing of staying out of other states, for the next few months), is desperately necessary.

Getting past the health crisis, there are other areas of responsibility: Helping out in the schools, when needed, during the January-May semester; supporting local businesses, especially those where younger workers are themselves supporting families; volunteering with Red Cross (still the only thing, other than family emergency, that will take me across state lines; and consoling sick and bereaved families of friends and relatives. Making an effort to be a comforting presence, in general, is also vital.

A legacy work, my memoirs of 1950-2020, is in the hands of its editor. This afternoon, I sent out the “Beta” copy to my mother, who is 92. It may be the only time I’ve ever given her a Christmas gift made with my own hands-except perhaps a birdhouse that I made in Eighth Grade woodshop.

Responsibilities will continue to arise, either by my own search or by the circumstances of community life. As long as I am physically and mentally competant, they will be welcomed.