Category Archives: Service Activities

Dignity Above All

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

January 22, 2023- It was well said, last Monday, “all means all”. Any decision made, with regard to the life of an unborn child, will hopefully place the utmost value on that child’s quality of life-as well as that of the mother. The decision, one of the heaviest that any human being is asked to make, must be made by the mother-not by politicians. I’ve made that point several times, and will let it stand.

I carried a sign around Courthouse Plaza, this afternoon, a tolerated but not entirely welcome act, in the midst of a highly politicized march that was billed as a Women’s March. The message, well-crafted by someone else, stated simply: “We march on, for equality, fairness and justice for all.” All means all-and the implication, that this applies even to those who do not subscribe to a given political stance, is nettlesome to a few. I see that this is greatly evident among those who are of the opinion that an authoritarian regime is the best way to solve all the problems besetting a given nation-all the while ignoring the track record of totalitarians up to now. Invariably, the elite of both Right and Left enrich themselves at the expense of the vast majority of their fellow citizens.

In the end, no one who might have been opposed to the march bothered the participants, and only one or two of those gathered bothered with me-one of them helping to carry the sign for a while, before walking off in a huff, from some unknown slight. The kids, and their mothers, remain more important to me than any political operative-of any stripe. It was gratifying to see a dozen or so young women scattered among the marchers, taking charge of their own dignity, making it clear to the others that this is their struggle now and will be carried out on their terms. Later in the afternoon, I stopped in at a restaurant across from the courthouse and was greeted by a young woman who was grateful for those who spoke up on behalf of her generation’s rights.

The future belongs to those who do not slam the door on people with whom they might not agree or on those whom they regard as “irrelevant” to the process. The future lies beyond emotional fits, self-aggrandizement or making veiled threats against others. I may be of an older generation, but I stand with those who could be my children, or grandchildren. Hopefully, as those discomfited by my presence see that I am not going away, they will also place more value on working with the young, rather than carrying on ideological battles of times past.

Human dignity matters more.

Breathing Room

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

January 17, 2023- Fifteen people graced the Founders Room, in Prescott Public Library’s main building, this evening, as Prescott Peace Builders presented a documentary on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The film reviewed what each of us present have lived, with regard to Civil Rights era and Dr. King’s role in the attainment of Civil Rights for African- Americans. What those rights boil down to is space for a physically, economically and politically hobbled people to breathe, to live full lives.

No one has said that anyone is entitled to a perfect life; no one IS. There is, though, plenty of space for freedom from being the target of assumptions from those in power and those who enforce that power. I was raised to not cross the street, when approached by a person of colour, or a person dressed in tattered clothing, or any given individual who was not acting in an obviously menacing manner. I was taught that when anyone asked for directions, they were to be given clear directions, in the most polite language possible. Essentially, every human being who crossed my path was to be treated fairly.

Those teachings became part of my being- and made getting over the subliminal messages, from the wider community, a whole lot easier. I have made my share of mistakes and have had to root out many microaggressions, but the foundation I got from my parents has eased the recognition of the Oneness of Mankind. It also made incorporating the admonition about never ASS-uming anything, about another person or group, a whole lot easier.

The day as a whole was marvelous: Safe drive to Phoenix and back; excellent dental check-up; three great meals-breakfast at Wildflower Bakery, lunch at Local Jonny’s and a bowl of soup for dinner, at Mob Burger-each served by a congenial soul. Then, there was the above-mentioned gathering, the second of three such meetings, honouring Dr. King and his legacy.

There is much breathing room, for yours truly, so far this winter.

“All Means All”

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

January 16, 2023- The process tends to loop around in circles, sometimes spiraling forward and other times heading back the other way.

April, 1959- A tough-looking boy, a bit older than me, rode up on his bike as I was walking back from the south side of town. He said his name was Richard; that he was a Creole from New Orleans and that I looked like a money man. I was eight, Richard was probably ten. I showed my empty pockets and he sniffed and rode off. “Next time, Money Man!” I didn’t see him again until we were in Junior High. He was into other things by then, and never bothered me. I later learned, from another Black child, that Richard no one in his life, except his Grandma, who was a custodian at the high school.

June, 1963- A seasoned jazz saxophonist, named Wilton Felder, sat down and recorded a re-arrangement of “Lullaby by JS Brahms”. It was nothing close to a lullaby, when he was finished. Mr. Felder was expressing his rage-at the murder, in 1956, of Emmett Till; at the murder, a few days before the recording, of Medgar Evers; at the many instances of cruelty towards people who looked like him . He was in no mood to offer gentle comfort-and so he made the piece soar to the heavens-loud and angry. The performance was terribly prescient. Three months later, four young girls, dressed in their Sunday finest, were blown to bits by a crazed bomber, as they waited in a Birmingham church.

April, 1968- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke to a group of sanitation workers and others who were gathered in their support. He remarked that the people were “headed to the Promised Land”, and that he “may not get there with you”. That night, as he took in the night air of a Memphis spring, he was sent to the hereafter. Far to the north, in the mostly white town where I was coming of age, a few of my friends mused aloud, about going over to a black neighbourhood in the next town, and stirring things up. The father who overheard those remarks forbade his son from taking part-as my father would have, if I had even wanted to be part of such a thing. As it was, I only wanted to see black people treated fairly and my heart was broken. I went on home.

June, 1969- Communication was not my strong suit, as I entered Basic Training in the U.S. Army. Having had little direct experience with African-Americans, I found that I had committed a few faux pas. Lavern was already a beaten-down, world-weary soul, at age 19. He desperately wanted to be understood, and had a hard time expressing the ways in which people like me had hurt him. A sharp-eyed friend advised me that some other black trainees were talking with Lavern, and looking my way. I spoke with a mutual friend, who was also black; the two of us sat down with Lavern, and got things amicably settled.

September, 1969- One cold morning, at Advanced Individual Training, in Indianapolis, I was having a hard time waking up and must have had a sour expression on my face, as we gathered at the latrine sinks, to shave our faces. Wayne was spring-loaded and outspoken. He thought my scowl was directed at him-and put me on notice that this was not acceptable. A more even-tempered black colleague explained that this was how African-American men communicated with one another-direct, full-in-the-face. In this way, I was being let inside. I had no further issues with Wayne, or with any other person of colour, the rest of the time I was in the Army. Direct, and to the point, always worked.

July, 1995- I was getting ready to cross a busy street, in St. Louis, with my wife, son and our hosts. Of a sudden, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back-just as a car came speeding along in the inside lane. The man who saved me had appeared to be on drugs-but he was aware enough to keep a stranger safe. This gave the lie to our hosts’ musings about black people being worthless. There was no further racist talk coming out of their mouths during our visit.

All these years later, one of the main speakers at today’s Martin Luther King, Jr. Day of Service asked, among other things, how many friends of colour each of us had. It was a rhetorical query, intended to get us thinking. My unspoken answer is, “Many, but nowhere near enough”. The keynote speaker then underscored this question, saying that ALL people’s lives indeed mattered. To that African-American, female pastor, everyone was due respect and accordance of dignity-even if they act despicably.

All people means all people.

.

Magical Again

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 15, 2023- An eclectic musician was also present, at least night’s concert-dancing with several ladies, in the small area, front of the band. He was sporting a red ball cap, with the acronym MAMA, representing “Make America Magical Again”.

I rather like that notion. Much of what has made life nice, these many years, has seemed almost magical in its unfolding. How many times have I been graced with accommodations that would ordinarily seem out of reach? How many meals have come my way, both when Penny and I were at wit’s end and when I have been on my own? How many friends have appeared, seemingly out of nowhere?

Some of this is, certainly, a reflection of love for others. I find myself thinking, ” Whatever you need, my love”; or “As you need,my pal”, when helping a child or adolescent, or a young woman, for that matter. Their needs are those of the future, after all. Their dreams and efforts are a good part of what will make seeming magic become commonplace. Helping remove obstacles, for anyone really, is an essential part of being an adult in this world.

As I sat with one of my young friends, last night, she noted that what makes any community special are pockets of celebration and affirmation. Some communities, like San Francisco and Boston, have several such areas. Prescott, with Raven Cafe, Founding Fathers Collective and Wild Iris, among other places, is increasingly holding its own in that regard. Faithful readers will note other such pockets of celebration, around the United States and in various countries across the globe.

So, the magic unfolded: The delightful sprite-like dancer, mentioned in the previous post; the structured, polished ballroom styles of an elegant couple; the dancing musician, wearing the M.A.M.A. cap; the melodious offerings of the three lovely women from Bisbee; the genuinely joyful presence of a dear friend and collaborator. Magic, after all, when it is intended to bring harmony, is pure and loving energy.

Thirteeners

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

January 13, 2023- The usually rough and tumble boys were a lot more subdued and looking towards the mostly female staff for guidance today. The roughest of the bunch was a lot more sensitive. The sassiest of the girls were very quiet all day. This all made more sense to me, when contemplating the feminine energy of Friday, combined with the number thirteen. Friday is named for the German goddess Freya. Thirteen is said to have a feminine flow, according to numerologists, because of the thirteen phases of the Moon.

The day itself has been transmogrified into some sort of a culturally freakish day of misfortune. I, personally, have never had a bad day on Friday the 13th. Those few that I’ve heard of who have wished they had spent the day in bed are no more likely to suffer on this combination of weekday and day of the month, than on any other day.

Nor are people in their first full year of teenage necessarily more difficult to get along with than those who are at other stages of adolescence, or at any other time of change. For me, twelve was probably the hard adolescent year, with twenty-five and fifty-nine the other rough personal years of change. Thirteen, though I was going through the heart of puberty, was a year of emergence from awkwardness.

The contrived bad luck associated with the thirteenth floor of a multistory building seems to be just that, contrived. I have not heard of any such particular association, in reality. Some people feel the whole bad luck association with the number-and the numerodiurnal combination, was a ploy to curb feminine power. I’m not sure it’s all that organized, but it makes as much sense as anything else.

In any case, any day when energy is nurturing and healing is a good day, in my book-and so it was.

Is Pressure Intended?

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

January 11, 2023- Among the features of this blog site is Seven-Day Highlights. The daily, sometimes hourly, algorithm serves as a scold-showing comparative ratings of Visitors, Views, Likes and Comments. A red arrow shows the least little decline in any of those areas, as if how people react is within my power to “correct”. This ignores the fact that I write for myself, but capitalizes on the notion that not everyone does. Those who have monetized their blog site are likely to take this more seriously, and “up their game”. These are the people who join writing courses and fret over lost readers.

I used to be like that, wanting to increase my readership. The fact is that few of us can set aside the time to read dozens of posts, each day. So, my posts have become more vehicles of self-expression and almost journalistic in content. That should be okay-and it is with my friends, even those who used to be close, but are now separated from me by schedules, temperament, divergent views of life and the vagaries of Nature. People are not commodities, as much as some would like that to be the case.

This brings up the larger question: What does anyone really gain, from putting pressure, intentional or not, on others? It basically, as someone recently pointed out to me, is a reflection of pressure one puts on self. We like to share what’s in our life, and so the bitter comes along with the sweet-ignoring the age-old adage: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Weep, and you weep alone.” (This, also, is a rather distasteful view of life; but it does serve as a forewarning of how we might manage our well-being.)

I am better able to manage both internal and external pressure, through meditation and the act of bringing self to account, several times each day-not in an accusatory manner, anymore, but with a more neutral view of my own actions and motivations. I was asked by someone dear to me, a while back, to maintain a “neutral love” towards her. I know what she was implying, and the fact is that Agape was already in the driver’s seat, vis-a-vis our friendship. Pressure, coming from a misdirected and unrealistic view of interactions, is brought to heel by a mature view of their ebb and flow.

So, if you, or the systems you employ, are making life harder on self and everyone else-consider taking things down several degrees, decibels or ergs.

The Water Speaks

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

January 10, 2023- In the 2016 film, “The Queen of Katwe”, the narrator says “Water takes what it wants”, in ravaged Uganda, each year. Floods indeed ravage many countries, often capriciously and with long-term devastating effect. Last year, Pakistan suffered the worst, with Kenya not far behind. Last month, southeast Brazil suffered greatly from floods, and now it is the turn of the U.S. Pacific coast.

California has borne the brunt of the storms so far, with western Nevada getting slammed by the first one and expecting more tonight. The Northwest may well be in the cross hairs of the next storm, tomorrow or Thursday. Friends whose weather experience has been relatively benign, for several years, are now finding themselves either evacuated or stuck in their homes.

The water is speaking, and its message is clear: “There has been an imbalance, both in how I am used and in how I am treated. Now, none of you, anywhere, are totally safe from my cleansing and my wrath.”

Man is the steward of Earth, and the central task of a steward is to maintain balance, so that all resources, including the Elements, are available as needed for most, if not all, of the world’s creatures. We are definitely still in the learning curve on that one, and will remain so for some time to come. It’s been suggested that a way be found to harness the moisture from “climate bombs” and “atmospheric rivers”-and push the moisture into the Colorado River, specifically into its lakes. That may remind some of Pecos Bill lassoing a tornado, yet, if clouds can indeed be seeded and made to build moisture-then it is worth the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency and the National Science Foundation collaborating on efforts to contain and harness such excess moisture, and deposit it where it can do some good.

None of this is quick and it will be anything but easy. The same may be said about the exploration of Space and the finding of cures for deadly diseases, but on we go.

Twists and Turns

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

January 8, 2023- The usually spirited and upbeat friend of mine seemed a bit reserved and downcast, yesterday, and though such happens to everyone, now and then, I will keep a close watch over the next several Saturdays, to make sure that it’s not something more serious. Likewise, another dear friend, facing the aftermath of a loss and an ongoing family health issue, may well need my help very soon. For these and other commitments, my meanderings will be limited, over the next few weeks.

Today was largely a day for honouring a woman who had given an enormous amount of herself to the veterans of our area, since the 1990s. Coleen “Corky” Hintz had been an irrepressibly joyful presence at our American Legion Post, since 1994, and was one of the first to welcome me there, in the Fall of 2011. She spearheaded and hosted so many activities, even after overcoming a serious health challenge, nearly eight years ago, that her passing leaves a crater-not easily filled. It was beyond fitting, that the hall was packed. The packets of Forget-Me-Not seeds that were offered to each of us are aptly named.

Northern California, and by extension SoCal and northern Nevada, remain much on my mind. There are dear friends scattered around the region, as well as the fact that, in general, the flood danger in the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta could easily be of Biblical proportions. Anything I do for the Red Cross out there is probably a month away, but the twists and turns of life can shred plans into so much confetti.

In sum, I’m glad to have not signed up for a dull life.

Progression

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

January 7, 2022- The breakdown of the common areas of our local Farmers Market took about ninety minutes, as it was my first time with the crew. This year, I have committed to more consistent volunteer work, and early Saturday afternoon is the least interrupted by other activities. Red Cross events, happening primarily during the week, are more touch and go, with substitute teaching and what few dental and medical appointments I have, tending to conflict with them.

Regardless of what choices one makes, though, the key to their being meaningful is clear, consistent communication and not making assumptions about when is a good time to communicate. I had occasion to check in with someone this weekend and found that the matter would have been better discussed earlier. Assuming the individual was too busy, I let slide, which was a mistake.

Another friend, of eleven years, is entering a period of great change in her life, and will likely need my assistance in a few months. Suffice it to say that the change represents stability, in a way that I have hoped for her, for a very long time.

Progression of communication skills, and the relationships that stem from and depend on them, is often a forwards, then backwards, process. We are seeing it in world affairs, in government, in commerce and between individuals. I learned a long time, ago, though, that communication, even-or especially-when difficult, is never something that can go backwards and forwards. It is essential to stay in touch, except in cases where communicating with a person, or group, brings forth a clear and present danger. Thankfully, that is not the case for me, with anyone, right now.

Treasure Vases

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

January 5, 2023- The prayers went up, the meditation was focused and the didgeridoo sounded, long and with urgency-in the mournful way that only a “didge” can sound.

An Earth Treasure Vase can be placed anywhere, and many have, over the past several years. The focus is on setting peaceful energy in a given space, on fostering both resilience and a renewed spirit of co-operation, across all manner of divides.

It strikes me as less than coincidental, that a 36-hour truce has been called, between Russia and Ukraine, ostensibly for the Eastern Orthodox Christmas holiday. Fatigue, on both sides, is surely a factor, as much as the holiday itself and the energy set forth by gatherings such as this. There are thousands of such meetings, large and small, in-person and online, as we the people, globally, are increasingly sick and tired of conflict-and are seeking ways to move past its root causes.

There are Earth Treasure Vases placed in Utqiagvik, AK; Antarctica; Argentine Patagonia; southern Sweden; the Outer Hebrides; the Swiss Alps; the Bay Area; northwest Australia; in the waters off the Trobriand Islands of Papua-New Guinea; in the mountains above Fukushima; South Island, NZ; New York City; the Flint Hills, KS; Liberia; Palestine; Hiroshima; various points in New Mexico (where the first Treasure Vase was placed) and the Demilitarized Zone of Korea-among dozens of places, worldwide. More will be dedicated and stewarded to other places across the globe.

Concrete action, of course, will be the only real guarantor of peace on Earth, yet let us remember that action rises from radiant energy.