Fog Clears

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October 29, 2021- Ninety-two years ago today, the Universe reacted to nearly a decade of excess and careless handling of finances, across many strata of society. Today, there was a modest amount of give and take, in the financial markets and they ended the month of October on a mildly upbeat note.

Ninety years ago, with a year left before the Presidential Election of 1932, what was left of the nation’s business elite was blaming the entire mess on “shiftless workers”, who “expect handouts”. Today, there is little changed, in that regard. The difference is that the philosophical heirs of that elite are blaming Unemployment Compensation and Social Security, as well as “lazy workers”, for what is largely a supply chain jam-up, caused by a variety of factors-only a few of which are independently verifiable. Much remains in the realm of speculation, and thus is beyond the purview of this web log.

Eighty-nine years ago, a president who was in over his head was replaced by a man who had been governor of the most populous state in the Union and who had a fair amount of experience in the financial markets. It was a gargantuan task that greeted that successor, and it took him the better part of three terms in office to promulgate a recovery. Today, we are a nation in gradual recovery from a worldwide disease pandemic, a year after another president who struggled was replaced-by a somewhat more seasoned public official-who is also struggling.

The difference between then and now is that we are faced with the ambiguity that comes from too much contradictory and rapidly flowing information. Most people are at their worst, when faced with ambiguity. No one likes to be wrong, so shades of gray flummox us. Good guys aren’t supposed to wear black hats. Villains are supposed to lack virtue. The fog is supposed to clear by Noon.

When the fog does clear, though, we see that there are all manner of contradictions-and no one gets off scot-free. The physical disease will lose its pandemic status, probably in less than a year. The disease of ego gratification will take longer to curb-and will entail some loud voices, coming from ungainly personages-on both sides of the aisle, being rendered silent-by the power of the voting booth. We will, each and all, be left with the challenge of learning to listen to those who see things differently than we.

It would be well to resume, or at least start, that process now.

No Grooming

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October 24, 2021- The earnest, committed statements of the polished man gave the young ladies a feeling of relief, and over the ensuing year, they gave him their trust. Little by little, he played on their insecurities, while feigning admiration for their accomplishments. Little by little, he turned them into his personal playthings. Little by little, his baser nature took over, and their self-esteem plummeted.

Many people, over the centuries, have claimed to be advocates and standard bearers for the rights of the less fortunate, while pursuing a far more hideous agenda. This has been true of fields as varied as religion, education, social work and law enforcement. What has fueled the pernicious appetites of judges and politicians has done the same for teachers, police officers, and clergy. It is the person inside, not the uniform or the title, that has led to so much betrayal.

The road to clarity and integrity in this, and other matters of trust, is not always a smooth one. The thing I noticed, long ago, is that those who indulge in surreptitious seduction always get caught. The minute the focus becomes personal gratification, and not helping a client or associate realize her/his dreams, the slope has been greased and the downfall begins.

I think of these scenarios, as I learn of the successes, and struggles, of young women whose personal growth and self-actualization was a huge part of my professional focus, from 1981-2011-and which still is a significant part of my work. My work was to provide very clearly-defined safe havens-and there were no strings attached. I guess the saving grace was that I was in a committed marriage-and since Penny’s death, the primary commitment to helping people-women and men alike- to become their strongest and most secure selves- has remained unshakeable.

Strong women cannot be groomed-and strong men don’t need to try.

Penny Said….

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October 22, 2021- I looked up a student, from long ago, and she had some searing things to say, on her social media page. All of it is true-and is unfortunate. We ignore these messages, to our peril. She was one of Penny’s favourite people, and I link her messages to what my dearly beloved wife told me, when we first met, forty-one years ago in December.

Penny said, “Hit me, just once, and we’re done.” I wouldn’t have hit her, anyway, but the message stayed in my heart.

Penny said, “Cheat on me, just once, and I’m gone.” I wouldn’t have cheated on her, anyway, but the message took.

Penny said, “Go and get those girls, and bring them home to their parents.” She did not have to say it twice. I got in my car, found the girls and brought them home, where they belonged. No Native child disappeared on my watch.

“N” said, “Treat all children like they are your children.” This was in reference to the hundreds, nay thousands, of Native women and girls, gone missing and unaccounted.

“N” said, “Where is the concern for all my missing sisters?” It is a continental disgrace, the epidemic loss of sheer human talent that is in a state of limbo, or loss, or suspended animation-maybe just left to rot, by others who took their own lack of self-worth out on women, girls-and male humans, cutting their lives short, then just walking back into the community, as if nothing has ever happened.

The case of Gabby Petito has brought renewed attention to the missing Indigenous women-and countless other people of colour whose fate is unknown. Ms. Petito’s family has it right: Every missing person, every abused soul, deserves the same energy and attention that has been directed towards justice for their daughter and cousin. Her likely abductor is himself dead. Other perpetrators are living in shame.

What of a young man, whom I knew as a boy, and who has been missing for over a year? What of the three dozen or so Dineh teenaged girls, whose posters one may see in any trading post, convenience store, post office or truck stop on the Navajo and Hopi Nations, or in any border community? What of Latinas, missing from even the smallest barrios, across Arizona and New Mexico?

I know that every child matters. That is precisely why it’s imperative to listen, when a fierce woman like N, or J, or T-or my ferocious late wife, comes forward, puts up a straight-ahead message: “PAY SOME *#@!! ATTENTION!” I would have paid attention, anyway-but the work still lies ahead.

If you see, or hear, something, say something. Better yet, DO SOMETHING!

Potpourri

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October 21, 2021-

There are days when one is asked to spend small amounts of time with a fair cross section of humanity. Age levels, a wide range of personalities and interest levels are both mixed together and present, one after another, in a span of six or seven hours.

I lived and thrived on such a reality, for nearly forty years, though not always in the span of a day. A classroom rover, which is what I was today and will be again tomorrow, gets a snapshot of different-aged students, mostly focused on one task, with a few variations-like the short-term, and quickly changing, needs of Kindergartners.

Some kids asked me about the bandage I sported and accepted the real explanation, without any drama. It is something that can happen to anyone, over time, from too much of something that is healthful, in small doses. I am a survivor, and want them to be survivors, too. Needless to say, every short session was a success-and enough people had their needs met, that this format can be used on any occasion in which teachers are called to brief committee meetings, in the course of a regular school day.

I also got to notice a few things about people who have been difficult for me to understand, in times past. I saw one man’s physical pain, and how it impacts his interactions with just about everyone. There are others, who are emotionally on a knife edge, having phone interactions with those who are making their lives difficult. Not facing them in the midst of an exceptionally busy school day reveals the sources of their angst and their vulnerabilities. That alone makes someone like me more useful, than would otherwise be the case.

A potpourri of humanity, in a fairly small space, is always enlightening. That’s why I travel-and also why I work.

Up In Space

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October 19, 2021-

Here we are, rooted in a garden planet. The urge to see what’s beyond calls to many, nevertheless, especially to the young.

My charges today spent their time devising spacecrafts, working in teams, mostly, with a few intrepid souls working alone.

There were lunar modules, satellites, probes, landers and rovers. It all depended upon the team’s focus and level of ambition. Best of all, the projects were gender-independent. Like the great rocket scientists and astronomers who came before them, the kids offered ideas based on mind. Unlike many who preceded them, they embraced the ideas that were best for the project, without concerning themselves as to whether the notions came from boys or girls.

It’s past time for this to be, and the heirs to space will look back at Sally Ride, Christa McAuliffe, Mae Jemison, Ellen Ochoa and nearly a hundred other women, who led as much as followed, but mainly served side by side with the men pioneers.

It was a noisy, at times messy, but fruitful day of discovery.

None Are Better Than….

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October 8, 2021- This afternoon, as a foreshortened school day was in its final half hour, I greeted two classrooms of 10-11 year-olds, several of whom were full of piss and vinegar, and all too eager to push the limits with one whom they saw as a dotty old man.

I set them straight, in short order, by giving a young man, who was posing as ringleader, some gratuitous time out of the room. He came back about three minutes later, and proceeded to follow the directions for the activity.

My parents told us that no one is inherently better than anyone else. I was never favoured over any of my siblings, and vice versa. My youngest brother was cut more slack, because he had more special needs than the rest of us. He was though, generally speaking, held to the same core expectations. The same ethic was dominant in our neighbourhood, in the schools and, as I experienced it, in my Army basic training and Advanced Individual Training units.

My experiences with artificial pecking orders came with active duty at Fort Myer, and more so, in deployment to Long Binh and Cholon, VietNam. I was dubbed one of the lower caste members, owing to my autism-and found myself feeling more empathy with the Black, Latino and Pacific Islander members of our units. The mantra in my head remained the same-“None are better than the rest.” I had a select job, handling accountable mail, and I did it to the best of my ability. That didn’t make me above it all, and when the bulk mail truck pulled up, in Long Binh, the lock went on the AM cage and my hands were emptying that truck, along with everyone else’s.

In the years since I was honorably discharged, every situation has also had its pecking order. Sometimes, the elitism was codified: Students answered to professors and professors, to Deans; Teachers answered to Principals and principals, to superintendents and Governing Boards; Volunteers answered to paid staff and paid staff, to administrators.

In other situations, the waters were muddier. It was then that the human animal’s penchant for an alpha to lead rose to the fore. Ad hoc authority figures have inserted themselves into my life, or tried to, at several junctures. American expatriates in Korea, retired military (whites and blacks) on the Navajo Nation, and authoritarian personalities, without portfolio, in several of the schools in which I’ve worked as a substitute teacher, have presented themselves as plenipotentiaries. In each case, my response has been: “I am not at your beck and call.”

So, in advising, admonishing or instructing the rising generations, my mantra is that of Mom and Dad: Regard yourselves as good as the rest, neither above nor beneath.

The Beautiful Universe

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October 6, 2021- In the spiritist classic, “The Initiate In The New World”, Cyril Scott’s Master gets the novice’s attention, by putting the acolyte’s being smitten by a comely woman, who is twenty years his junior, in perspective. The learned one cautions him to remember that there are billions of beautiful scenes, throughout the Universe, millions of cases of such salubriousness on Earth alone and even in the human realm, over a billion humans (this was 1927) who reflect one sort of beauty or another. He encourages the Initiate to nurture his friendship with the younger woman, but in the context of a deep and variegated relationship.

This, of course, is emblematic of the best of marriages, of the most enduring friendships. Yet, how easily one can turn aside from even a long-term, promising, even mutually satisfying bond, over the most trifling of disappointments or disagreements. I’ve had strong bonds fade into nothingness or turn into estrangement, because one or both of us was unwilling to see the ties from a wider perspective.

For quite some time, though, I have taken to viewing a far-deeper universe-still being appreciative of comeliness, certainly, but hardly placing physicality front and center. The closest of my friends are those whose spiritual or ethereal beauty radiates in their daily lives and in all their dealings with those around them.

Thus was the little girl showing me a heart rock, she had found on the school playground, the highlight of my rather productive day. Heart rocks show that one is paying attention to one’s surroundings and is wise to a connection with nature. So, too, is paying attention to brilliant risings and settings of the sun, to rainbows, sunbows and moonbows. Thunder and lightning can be experienced as majestic.

Thus is a smile the most comforting of all expressions, and the hug the most reassuring of all interactions between two people. The pet’s unconditional affection can soothe, after the longest, hardest of days. The baby’s coo is the payback, for all that a mother has endured over the period of gestation.

Thus does beauty transcend all the transactional thought, cynicism, unilateral dependency and outright greed that drain the spirit, crush the soul and attempt to negate the essential goodness placed in all of us, by the Creator.

Why We Struggle

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October 1, 2021- “We gathered together to ask the Lord’s blessing”, certainly, and to reflect on what was done right, as well as areas for growth, with respect to next year’s event.

The occasion was the Hope Fest appreciation dinner, held at the aptly-named Lindo Mexico Restaurant, on Prescott’s near north side.

A number of incidents and procedural anecdotes were discussed,and after a fashion, the conversation turned to the very purpose of challenges and suffering in this life. It came down to two elements: As powerful as the Creator is, for insuperable force to be brought to bear, on all given problems faced by us, would teach us nothing. The second point is that, by the sufferings of the great Spiritual Teachers, we learn that our own struggles can be both overcome and be the source of spiritual growth.

These past few weeks have certainly reminded me of this, as well as being a check on whether I was getting attached to my possessions. While they have served me well, so far the answer has been “No”.

On Go Our Paths

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September 30, 2021- Around 4 p.m., as I was multitasking, some water spilled on my computer table and found its way to the device. The laptop is now in Tech ER. Geek Doc, being a master of reality, gave me all the sympathy I deserved: None. He wants two days, with few guarantees.

Coming as it has,on the occasion of the anniversary of Penny’s birth, I can hear her voice: ” Well, I guess you know what not to do next time!” She and I knew when to comfort each other, when to get after one another and when to do a bit of both.

Now, we are each on parallel paths. Hers is pure spirit, and thus subject completely to divine will. Mine is yet paint-by-numbers. Still, anything I do that’s worthwhile is the result of careful contemplation. Anything I do that’s messed up is the result of not giving it due consideration.

I will be back behind the keyboard, soon, and yes, no more multitasking. I had been getting a lot better, in that respect. Change, though, is a process, the result of events, some seismic, some just blips.

Old Dreams, New Paths

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September 28, 2021- Yesterday, thoughts of new bullet points, on a well-worn path, started to materialize. Today, things became clearer.

It is ever more likely that I will have a replacement for my road warrior, soon. When that vehicle arrives, it will be exclusively for work and for journeys within the Southwest and southern California. Travels further afield will be by train or bus, with car rentals taking up the slack, in visits off the beaten track. There will be an occasional airplane flight, as with this coming Thanksgiving, but mostly I will stay earthbound.

Working with children will be a part of life, as long as I am of sound mind and body. The assignments, though, are becoming more selective. No longer will I sign on for work with those whose style is controlling, manipulating or degrading. I’m not talking about students, but about adults.

The same holds for volunteer work. It requires a bit more forbearance, as people in crisis are often at their worst. Nonetheless, I will expect the communication to be clear and will not indulge anyone in games of “gotcha”. Power and control have no place in a healing environment.

The most important aspect of all this is self-care, and towards this end, maintaining my current regimen of natural supplements, as organic a diet as possible, regular exercise and rest when needed is one bullet point that will not change.

The other aspect of self-care is the use of time. I find that I am less oriented towards mandatory attendance at gatherings, lest the organizer be woefully offended, and more towards joining those gatherings at which I am moved to be present, out of genuine interest. Recently, those have included both long-planned events and those more of an impromptu, spontaneous nature.

I fully plan to make my journeys abroad, over the next four or five years, as conditions allow. Most ocean crossings will probably involve air travel, but I am open to journeying by boat or ship, as well. Again, in the spirit of the above paragraph, I make no commitments to being somewhere, out of an odd sense of obligation to online correspondents. Lord knows, COVID has disrupted that whole process, as has the occasional hyperintensity with which some have tried to get my attention.

The whole process is just becoming less frenetic and more organic.