Category Archives: Service Activities

No True Veils

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 28, 2024- The divers found two bodies, yesterday, in the chill of the Patapsco River. Men who had gone to work, on the overnight shift, Monday night, found themselves trapped in a car, as the chain reaction of errant cargo ship goes out of control, hits bridge supports,bridge buckles and collapses, men die-plays out. A miracle can save four others, but the clock ticks on. Families, yet again, are shattered. A young woman hugs her husband, who escaped death by the narrowest of margins, all the more striking, as he cannot swim. They mourn the loss of his crew mates, and join in the sorrow of those families. A city, a state, and five nations are in shock.

Across the globe, 143 people died in an attack on a Moscow nightclub. Moscow, Nova, Orlando, Manchester, Las Vegas, Bali, What is it about entertainment venues that incenses political extremists? Is it a matter of “How dare they have a good time, when I and mine are going through horror?” Is it a matter of “God hates those who relax”? We see the aftermath. Other extremists have killed over 30,000 people, most of them innocent of wrongdoing, in the name of retribution. A world is sliding into shock.

There is no barrier, really, between me and any given counterpart in Gaza, in Moscow, in any one of the nations that lie south of the Rio Grande/Rio Bravo. We all have our legitimate work to do, trying to make the world a better place.

There is no veil between any of us and those who left their bodies behind, either willingly or because their presence is inconvenient to the aims of a certain relative few. The departed still have work to do, in their spirit forms. They may assist those they love or they may exact retribution on those who tormented them. Some probably do a little of both.

There are no real veils or barriers between us. It just makes a convenient dodge, to pretend otherwise.

Tonalea

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 27, 2024- “You don’t need to leave a tip. We didn’t really DO anything.” The cashier thus made her appeal to the dignity of one and all, as I paid for a couple bags of freshly ground coffee. I thought how refreshingly decent this woman is, and how sentiments like hers give the lie to the notion that Gen Z is collectively self-centered and always has its generational hand out. (The Greatest Generation, once upon a time, expressed similar sentiments about us then-youthful Boomers, but I digress.)

One of the bags was going to the old friend I was en route to visit, and to his family. C lost his wife of 40 + years, a few months back, and so I was heading up to Tonalea, to offer condolences and emotional support. The community’s name in the Dineh (Navajo) language, means, essentially, Red Lake. There is, in years of heavy winter and spring precipitation, an actual lake, off U.S. Hwy/160, on the community’s north side. This year, I saw no lake.

It was a smooth ride from Prescott to Flagstaff, where I bought the coffee from Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery, owned by another old friend. Traffic in and around Northern Arizona University reminds me a bit of Manila-everyone is doing their own thing, and gridlock is not altogether a rarity. My upbringing helps me transcend that, as a motorist here and as a pedestrian in my second favourite big city (after San Diego). Looking out for others makes for a longer journey, but for better self-esteem, at day’s end.

Driving from Flagstaff to Tonalea was even smoother. Dineh and Hopi people are quite orderly and civil, in their driving habits, and the area is sparsely polulated, to boot. As the two Elephant’s Feet (grey sandstone rock formations) looked on, from across the highway, I turned on the graded dirt road that winds around, towards Black Mesa, and reached C’s homestead, five miles inward. There he stood, as I arrived, at about the same time as planned.

C reminisced about his wedded life and what had led to his wife’s passing. Her suffering, it seemed, was mercifully short. We then talked of the connection between those of us in the flesh and our departed loved ones. Years ago, as Penny and I lay together, she told me she had seen my Penobscot ancestors standing over me, as I slept. I was not surprised by that. The ties that departed souls have to this world are very, very strong. Everything that has happened to me, both the serendipitous events that have transpired and my protection from malevolent forces, over the past thirteen years, or even before, has been due to those who have gone before me, and who make up a bulwark of energy that lets me do the bidding of the Divine.

After a two-hour visit, and my reassuring him that all will be well, even with the swirling changes that seem to bother him so, it was time for C to get back to tending to his family, working on his fences, and keeping livestock from eating his trees. It was also time for me to head back to Prescott, with a “halfway stop” at My Pita Wrap, a small Mediterranean restaurant on Flagstaff’s main drag. Going back up to Dinehtah, with its otherworldly rocks, grounded people and mystical energy, is always a reset for my own personal energy.

Circles

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 26, 2024- The young man proudly showed anyone who was watching just how he was cleaning the coffee house’s tables, with small circular motions, so as to not miss any spots. He completed the task in ten minutes, then went outside with his mentor, and cleaned the patio tables, in seven minutes.

I’ve known J since he was 5 years old. He turns 23 this week. Three days a week, he has a mentor to drive him around to venues, such as this coffee house, where I had breakfast this morning and works the other two days at a sheltered workshop. One of the happiest people I’ve ever known-J is reaping the fruits of his gentle nature.

This evening, about forty of us formed circles, to share stories of inspiration from natural phenomena and from sacred spaces. My group shared stories about spirits coming to comfort an ALS sufferer; the inspiration gained from looking at shapes of clouds; a woman’s acceptance of her children’s Faith, towards the end of her life; a father’s encouragement of his daughter’s pursuit of the arts; a woman’s observation of an animal mother’s love for her babies, whilst visiting a zoo; a hiker’s encounter with spirit forces, in a canyon of a state park (my story).

A Cherokee story teller also told of animals coming together to decide what gift to give the human being, who seemingly had none of the qualities which they had. They gave him fire-to keep him warm, let him prepare his food and purify his water. The sharing circle of the animals was only partially successful, as the colourful crow singed his feathers, which became black, and the ribbon snake singed his scales, becoming all black. Only the spider managed to capture fire, by putting it in her web basket, and inadvertently teaching the human to weave baskets, as well as to keep a hot ember in a safe place.

There are things that do not fare well in a circle: Logic, trying to get from point A to Point B, and, hideously, the firing squad-which should not exist at all. Mostly, though, a circle is all inclusive, and gives everyone in it a chance to participate, to be considered, to belong.

One Person’s Whimsy….

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 25, 2024- The last step in any prayer is always taking action.

Burying objects in the earth, immersing them in bodies of water or placing them in caves, has long been a spiritual practice of those seeking connection with the Divine, or with forces of Nature. Its effects tend to be slow, usually too slow for the liking of the movers and shakers among us, who want to see quick results.

This evening, I had time available to join a full moon meditation which, after the customary full body relaxation exercise, referenced various treasure vases that have been placed in dozens of locations around the world. Many of these are places of spiritual or environmental significance, to one group of people or another. They range from the Lawrence Laboratories, in Berkeley, CA to a forest in rural Liberia. A sacred site in Israel/Palestine is the location of another such vase. Its mention led someone to protest (in Chat) that the vase was pointless, since things have gotten worse in that part of the world.

“So”, I mused to self, “this means that the vases on the border between North and South Korea, in the Cloisters of Manhattan, a cave in Bosnia-Hercegovina, and others in Iraq, Mexico, the Georgian Federation, South Kivu Province of DR Congo a hill overlooking Fukushima and nuclear energy facilities in New York and Washington State are pointless as well. Let’s all just throw up our hands and let the Big Dogs have their bones!”

After the session was over, I was glad to have not given abrupt voice to that rebuttal. It would have jettisoned the peaceful sentiments of the call’s organizers and made me as much of a problem as the troll was. Then, I started to think further-maybe she was not trying to disrupt, or be a troll. Maybe her Type A brain has no more patience for the slow path of spiritual healing. More’s the pity. Those who seek quick solutions, but who have no game plan that brings reconciliation and justice, are essentially chasing their tails. Their insinuation, that others of us are chasing rainbows, thus rings hollow.

Martin Luther King, Jr had a dream. He also had specific, tangible plans to bring that dream to fruition. I, too, have both, and will pursue them-albeit in a far less prominent manner.

Completion

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 18, 2024- Always, to the best of your ability, finish what you start-and strive to correct mistakes. I learned this, over and over, from my parents. Making amends for wrongdoing wasn’t always immediately possible. Some effort, though, was usually appreciated. Follow through, when something was lost or broken, was mostly essential. Giving up was never an option.

Today was a good one, because of follow-through. Something that I was missing prompted a call to a place I had been on Saturday. The person on the other end vowed to look for the item. It took seven hours, but the missing item was found, and will be returned to me by mail. Nothing ventured, nothing gained-or retrieved.

The same goes for regular communication. “If you care about someone, let her/him know-consistently.” I am not stellar perfection, in this regard, but I’m getting there-and there isn’t anyone in my circle, to the best of my knowledge, who feels abandoned. I don’t provide for some people’s financial requests, but that doesn’t mean I have forgotten them. Sometimes, leaving a person to struggle a bit will help him/her rise up stronger. Some people I love very much did that for me, at various points in my life. I’m still here, and have never seriously contemplated giving up.

Life is always about making an effort to finish what you start.

Boxcars, Boyos and Braceros

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 17, 2024- In 1946, a decorated soldier came back to his hometown of Galesburg, IL, and went with his friends to a downtown movie theater. They were directed, by an usher, to sit in the “Mexican section”. The honourably discharged soldier refused, saying that he wished to speak with the manager. When that wish was granted, the soldier told the manager that he had just finished serving their country, and fighting against Fascism, for nearly three years. He expected the same rights as any other citizen of the United States.

That began the end of racial segregation in Galesburg, and across Illinois. It would take another ten years for the practice to end across the northern and western states, as well as in Canada. It would be another 18-25 years for it to end in the southern states.

In 1917, as American men went off to fight in World War I, there was a vast labour shortage. Corporate representatives recruited Mexican men, by the thousands, to fill the vacant positions. These men were housed in re-purposed railway boxcars, as many of the positions were with the railroads. Boxcar villages, near towns like Galesburg, were established near the railyards.

The same thing happened, on a smaller scale, in World War II. By then, men were allowed to bring their families along, and more permanent “barrios”, many with row houses, were established by the railway companies, and other employers. Thousands of Mexican workers and families were thus brought into the United States, not by “liberal politicians”, but by business and industry leaders, seeking to accomplish their missions.

A century earlier, much the same process unfolded, on the East Coast and in the cities of the Midwest, as Irish (the boyos, they called themselves) and Italian workers, fleeing chaos in their homelands, arrived in the United States, having heard of opportunities here. They, too, encountered prejudice, and were enticed to quarrel with one another, so as to keep a united front from forming among the refuge-seekers and the dispossessed. That tactic would resurface, when each new group: Poles, Hungarians, Greeks, Arabs, Japanese, Chinese, Filipinos, arrived here and sought their chance at a new life. Then came newly freed people of African descent, fleeing the Jim Crow laws of the former Confederate states-and Mexicans, fleeing the repression and chaos of the Diaz years. Braceros, or manual labourers, did the work that few Americans wished to engage.

This is the backdrop, as the wall goes up and scapegoats are sought, by wirepullers, for the overlooking of homeless veterans and others. Two equally worthy groups of people need the help of their fellow humans, and yes, charity begins at home. It begins at home, and family members get first dibs, then community members-like those who served their country and are now getting short shrift, in many cases. It doesn’t end there, however. Only a truly unified human race can resolve the issue that stem from the mindset that some people are less than others, because of differences in their make-up, strengths and weaknesses, appearance, national origin, religion, personal predilections- you name it. Only seeing that there really is no other, just a mirror of ourselves, will lead to a systematic solution to all that has gone wrong-starting with family, then community, then state/province, country and region, until the entire globe gets the idea.

Maybe then, there will be no cross-border caravans, no twenty-foot walls, no former police/military officers seizing power in their destitute countries, no mindless interplay between ideological rivals, rather than each sharing viable solutions to deep-seated social ills.

Domhan go bragh. (Earth, til the end)

Nuggets

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 16, 2024-

Smoke is smoke, fire is fire. An explosion in a small town, affecting two or three families, can implode an entire community. A General Alarm fire, on the street of a large city, can generate headlines, and bring onlookers, even politicians, making promises, which may or may not go over with those of the stakeholders, who were not asked of their views, on cost and benefit, of recovery efforts, to the greater good. All tragedy, all mishap, decimates body and soul, whether one is directly affected, or only connected in passing. To the former, it’s as if a life is shattered, though only for a time. To the latter, it’s like a pebble in a shoe, but not so easily shaken loose. “No man is an island”.

So, I got up early, and went to the small town of Seligman, a ninety-minute drive to the northwest, and helped with a smoke detector installation project. Our team encountered a heavy smoker, who had no such devices in his house. He now has four. He was chastened, and grateful.

Smoke is smoke, fire is fire.

UndivIDEd

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 15, 2024- Today being the Ides (Divides) of March, I am taking a few minutes to look at one element of life that may lead to division.

Among the entries on my e-mail serve, this morning, was one from a local woman, bemoaning socialism. That comes as no surprise, with so many who view any sort of collective as an affront to those whose well-being has come, in their honest assessment, from the sweat of their own brows. It does not, however, recognize that both socialism and individualism are continuums, varying in degrees.

Socialism can be as compatible with individual effort as are the systems in place in countries as diverse as Sweden, New Zealand and Costa Rica-all of which have, or recently have had, conservative leadership. Those conservative leaders have not seen fit to wholly dismantle the economic system; instead viewing small tweaks that stimulate individual ingenuity and drive, when the State appears to be overly dismissive of those two qualities.

Socialism can also be overly deterrent of individual initiative and drive, when ambitious reformers get ahead of their own agenda, as has happened in Cuba, Nicaragua, and in the former Soviet Union. Ego can end up destroying whatever good might have initially come from the attempt to correct excessive individualism. Then, we will see the very thing that the artist Pete Townshend described in his song, “We Won’t Get Fooled Again”- “The parting on the Left is now parting on the Right…”

No one size fits all, and human beings are, by and large, hard-wired to draw inspiration, and affirmation, from their own imaginations, interests and talents. Baha’u’llah teaches that “It is made incumbent on every one of you to engage in some occupation, such as arts, trades, and the like. We have made this—your occupation—identical with the worship of God, the True One. Reflect, O people, upon the Mercy of God and upon His favors, then thank Him in mornings and evenings.” (Bahá’u’lláh: Bahá’í World Faith, p. 195) (Programmer’s note: ‘Tablets of Bahá’u’lláh revealed after the Kitab-i-Aqdas’, p. 26).

We were each created to live to our fullest individual capacity. Even many developmentally disabled persons can do some form of work that contributes to the public good. Being discouraged from this, by anyone in authority, can only do harm to society, over time-which is why a balance between liberal idealism and attention to the collective need to be balanced with conservative preservation of values and the honouring of individual initiative. Left to themselves, either ideology can become over-active, and end up stifling the populace.

I could offer several specific examples of both, but suffice it to say that no human institution can thrive, in perpetuity, without rigourous oversight by the people it purports to serve. That’s why even enterprises and social groups, formed with the purest of motives, need to be subject to scrutiny. Publicly-held companies, school systems (both public and private) have Boards of Directors for a reason, and founders of those institutions have been asked to leave, when they depart from their own original plan of operation. Government, too, operates best with a system of checks and balances.

Belief in one’s own primacy can never take the place of commitment to the public good.

Back to the Border, and to Bull Pasture, Part I: Lukeville and Ajo

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 14, 2024- Traffic was bustling, at the Lukeville/Sonoyta Crossing. The place had been closed, a few months ago, with the Federal government bemoaning lack of resources to handle a surge in migrants trying to cross into the United States. It turned out this was mainly a processing issue, and the Arizona National Guard was dispatched to help with ancillary duties, so that the Border Patrol agents could focus on clearing up the processing of those who were seeking asylum, from any one of two dozen countries, and returning those not qualifying for refuge, to Mexico, or to their countries of origin.

The United States/Mexico border, at Lukeville/Sonoyta.

Lukeville had plenty of traffic, going both ways, but the restaurant was closed and the gas station convenience market’s shelves were half empty. I saw little evidence of the crisis of the past few months, other than an active Border Patrol work station, on South Puerto Blanco Drive, that had a few tents set up-either for detained migrants or for agents to get out of the sun. It is likely that they are used for a little of both. These events come in waves, though, so unless Congress and the President can reach an understanding, soon, it is likely to be a long summer of ebbs and flows of both desperate and opportunistic people trying to enter the U.S.

Before all this, and my return to Quitobaquito and Bull Pasture-both within Organ Pipe National Monument (Lukeville also lies within the Monument), I took some time to look around Ajo. Morning’s light, at Copper Sands Motel, revealed this courtyard.

Relaxing spots, at Copper Sands Motel, Ajo (above and below)

In town, there are two stand-out areas of note: The Plaza, and Curley School. Both were built in the 1920s, when Phelps-Dodge Corporation began to realize the peak operation of its copper mines in the area. Curley School is named for the company’s regional manager: Michael Curley. Ajo Plaza, in the style of a Spanish community gathering place, was the one area where the three otherwise segregated ethnicities, Anglo, Mexican and Tohono O’Odham, could mix freely. Today, of course, there is no segregation. I saw people of all racial groups here, as elsewhere in the country-and in each case, they were working in responsible positions.

Here are two views of Ajo Plaza, where several people were gathered, to relax over coffee and tea, or to discuss business.

East side of Ajo Plaza
North side, Ajo Plaza
Ajo Plaza’s Greenspace

Across from the Plaza is Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, also a marvel in white.

Immaculate Conception, from the east side.

Curley School educated all Ajo area students, from 1919-1997. When it was found to be in disrepair, a group of Ajo residents, working with the University of Arizona, developed a renovation plan, and the facility, consisting of nine buildings was refitted as artisan apartments and up-to-date classrooms, for the practice and study of the Fine Arts. Here are three views of the facility.

Main Building, Curley School, Ajo
Inner Classrooms, Curley School, Ajo
Standing Duck Cairn, Curley School, Ajo

As with all such operations, the New Cornelia Open Copper Mine ran out of its product, and has left tailings in its wake.

Tailings from New Cornelia Mine, east side of Arizona Highway 85, south of Ajo.

Hopefully, the area can be cleaned up and restored as a natural area, useful to both people and wildlife. The same ingenuity that saved Curley School would be beneficial here.

NEXT: A return to Quitobaquito and Bull Pasture

Sweeping Vistas to One-Star Bare Bones

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

March 11, 2024, Eloy, AZ- The manager of the motel took a minimalist view of the condition of her establishment: Rooms which are clean and very well-appointed, but have yet to install locks on several of the rooms-relying on chains inside the door, only. “We have a security guard who is constantly on the move or is watching the bank of security cameras! Those who want more can go the city, and pay more!” Me (Silently)- “I see, said the blind man”.

This is a place where tragedy is waiting to happen, despite the woman’s declaration that “My staff and I refuse to rent to anyone who looks shifty!” Update: As it happened, I got a wondrous night’s sleep here. Yet, it will be the last time I stay at the place. A skewed vision of how people should be served and protected will not end well.

My day, otherwise, was splendid. Coffee with a group of fellow seniors, was followed by a Zoom session on contacting our district’s Congressman, on a matter of interest to my fellows in Faith-and me. Then, there was a hike with HB, in the Constellation Trail system, named for a jet plane, which crashed in the area, in 1959. We walked about an area with sweeping vistas, which I had last hiked, with another friend, in the snow-four years ago. It is equally majestic, in the snippets of Spring.

Northward view, from Constellation Trail system (Hully Gully Trail)

Looking towards Hully Gully Trail, Constellation Trail system

Striated rocks, Constellation Trail system

A petrified chorus, Constellation Trail system

One could spend days, exploring the Constellation system, itself part of the Granite Dells formation, on Prescott’s northeast side. I have been there several times, and will be there several more.

After helping serve another buffet-style meal, this evening, at Solid Rock’s soup kitchen, it was time to head out towards Tucson, and the border with Mexico-where I will spend a couple of days, seeing what is actually going on-as opposed to the conjecture of the mainstream media. Getting to this small, but growing, desert city, roughly halfway between Phoenix and Tucson, I settled in at the above-mentioned motel, which will remain nameless, for now.

It was a fine, productive day, so I leave the management of the place to learn their own lessons, as I have spoken my peace to them.