Category Archives: Social

Red Hearts, Not Broken

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

February 14, 2022- Short of being on a trail or on a journey of connection and observation, there is no place that I’d rather be than surrounded by the energy and ingenuity of youth. This is what keeps me going into schools, on occasion, over a year after official retirement. This, and continuing to notice the occasions when children and youth are treated in less than stellar fashion.

My own parenting skills were not A+, but there was never a time when Son was not loved and treated in a respectful manner, befitting his age. He was accustomed to hardship, during the time of his mother’s illness. He was still very much front and center, for both of us. It is thus, that Aram is a compassionate and loving husband, and should it be their wish, he and Yunhee will make loving parents.

The people with whom I spent the day, today, for the most part showed all the signs of being well-tended and loved. There are many reasons, none good, why people don’t show their children the love they deserve. There is one major reason why those who are worthy parents step up and raise their kids well: They themselves are grounded and have a clear vision of what the next generation, and the one after that, should be.

My siblings and I had that sort of upbringing, and it is with my gratitude that Mother is still with us and able to see her grandchildren-and great-grandchildren also turning out to be strong, forward-looking, compassionate people. Their hearts have not been broken, and I pray that remains ever so.

Likewise, I will continue to work to mend the hearts that are broken and keep the rest whole. The cliche is right: It shouldn’t hurt to be a child- or for that matter, to be human.

Smoothing Rough Edges

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

February 13, 2022- The kitchen forgot my order, and was busily going about serving the rest of the patrons, when I went to the window and lodged my complaint. I don’t often do that, but there are limits. Having overdone it, timewise, last night, and facing a 10 a.m. Faith meeting, I had no other recourse, as we pay in advance at the Legion, and walking out was not seemly. My plate was brought, five minutes later, by a rather miffed server, but no matter. I thanked the server, and was told by the manager that my next breakfast would be on the house. Again, ordinarily, I would hold my tongue and wait, but not keeping other people waiting, on the other end, is still important.

As it happened, I had to wait a few extra minutes to be admitted to the meeting, for whatever reason (I doubt being two minutes late had much to do with it.) The meeting was detailed and productive, and I felt my grumpiness fading, early into the discussion. It was a good reminder that one always needs to smooth out the rough edges-even if dealing with a surly individual. The buck has to stop somewhere.

The rest of the day offered an opportunity to relax a bit, then spend an hour or so over coffee with my Hiking Buddy and her house guest from Massachusetts. They arrived a bit late, but I had recharged my well of patience and had an enjoyable visit, in a welcoming coffee house setting.

The next time I go to the jam session, I will stay overnight and tend to my meetings from my lodging. Rough edges don’t need sharpening.

Echoes of Amy Winehouse

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 12, 2022- The songbird’s voice was reminiscent of Amy Winehouses’s. If I had wandered into the room with my eyes closed and had been living under a rock, for the past eleven years, I’d have sworn Amy was in the room. As it was, the gentle, forthright soul who was belting out tunes, over the cacophony of eclectic instruments, including her own beatbox, bore a slight physical resemblance to the late, long-suffering British master of R&B. The two other women in the room, each a talented musician in her own right, just stood and watched in awe. The rest of us, men of varying ages, were equally cognizant and appreciative of her presence, even as we were focused on our own instruments and as three of the younger among us were increasingly engaged in an improvisational spoken word trialogue, the decibel level of which was rising by the second-yet did not cancel out one word of Shawna’s powerful delivery.

For my part, I was more or less ephemeral, by choice. It had been a long while since I had sat in with the group, and many of the members were new. Shawna and her mate were the only ones I recall from last year. The others, true to the spirit of the establishment, were politely cordial, but a step short of welcoming. This is a loosely closed circle, which lets people in momentarily, and only gradually over time will accept the unfamiliar. Each member seemed to select one or two others, with whom they would interact. The rest were ignored. I was just glad that the hostility, encountered on my last visit, had gone away.

Shawna and her partner, who declined to introduce himself, once again, were otherwise gracious and accepting of all in the group. The hosts, keeping to the front of the house, eyed everyone a bit warily, understandable, given the noise level at times, but were cordial enough, as we entered and left. I’m actually glad that they abided the scene-no one was destructive, or particularly vulgar in their speech. Nine young men showed the utmost respect for the lone woman singing and playing several instruments, in their midst, as did I-the only elder in the room. May it never be otherwise.

It was, despite the reticence of its members, a fine evening of music and catharsis. It also gave me the realization that I need to bring my drum with me, on the rest of my forays. In that sense, this was the first step on a journey of a thousand miles.

Feisty

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Education, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 10, 2022- The usually quiet, self-absorbed girl sat with a group of more outgoing friends, watching as they crafted “pointy fingers” out of computer paper. For some reason, this is the rage among pre-teens in this community, right now. As long as they are not used as weapons, and does not interfere with lessons, it’s tolerated. The quiet one decided to give this craft a try, putting the paper concoctions on three of her fingers, eventually deciding the devices were too tight on her fingers, and giving them back to her friends.

Her actions, in both directions, were a good thing, in my view. She is a bright, engaging child and can only benefit from taking part in frivolous, but harmless, activities. Conversely, she got a couple of the more rambunctious kids to open books and read quietly for about twenty minutes. That is a start, as well.

I say this, having been an introvert for a good part of my childhood. I am more given to ambiversion, over the past several years. It’s just more enjoyable to be among others and to exchange views and experiences, with a wide variety of people. It is this that I wish to see for those who remind me of myself as a child-and thus to show their inner feistiness.

Forthrightness is the outer expression of internal security and self-trust. If it means being a bit mischievous, that’s okay. Secure adults, in turn, can deal with a modicum of feistiness from children and youths, and direct that energy in a way that builds the young person’s character.

Besides, I would rather have feisty people looking out for me, in the event I someday become infirm and confined. Even if that doesn’t happen, spirited people are still more fun.

Their Presence

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Posted by on in children, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 9, 2022- The little girl hovered around, while her parents were engaged in a teleconference. Occasionally, one of them would answer her question, whilst muting themselves. She still wanted to hear much of what was being said, and so kept a discrete but noticeable presence, to the side of the camera.

The comely young woman posted that she liked me, and asked if we might be friends. Doing a courteous bit of diligence, I saw the likely reason for her out-of-the-blue comment: All of her friends, and several of the posters on her page, were from a part of the world known for grifters. She herself may or may not have had a sincere interest in befriending a man old enough to be her grandfather, but I’ve been among the people whom she counts as online friends, and the hands are outstretched, 24/7. I took a pass.

Noon at a local bakery/restaurant is packed solid, yet I found a table in the sunny patio. Most of those present were my age or older, lunch being one of the prime social hours of the day. I was pleasantly surprised that my simple order took less than ten minutes to reach the table. That speaks well of the perks of simplicity. I wished the crowd a very fine afternoon.

Today was my self-imposed deadline to get a Valentine’s card to Mother, in the mail. Every year I can send cards, and small gifts, for the days set aside for her being honoured is a very good year. Her presence means the world, as long as she is feeling well and happy-and, all the more, of sound mind.

What Makes Me Proud

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Posted by on in Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

February 8, 2022-

What makes me proud of the man I helped raise? His work ethic, independent frame of mind, commitment to the well-being of humanity, love for his wife and maintaining self-care. What makes me proud of the young people I help educate? Their day-to-day enthusiasm, even when it is a bit loud; concern for one another and for the adults who show them respect; open-mindedness, even towards those whose beliefs seem antiquated; dogged pursuit of truth; gradual and steady outreach to those who are marginalized. What makes me proud of my community? The commitment to virtuous behaviour, even when it flies in the face of demands made by those towards whom some feel obligated to show fealty; the standing up for what one believes, whilst for the most part letting opposite points of view be openly expressed; the commitment to open space and increasing willingness to conserve resources. What makes me proud to bear witness to my Faith? It is based on the oneness of humanity; owning up to, and working to shed, prejudices and other flaws; independent investigation of truth, not dependent on group pressure or self-aggrandizement; the equality of women to men.

I am proud to be part of a world where the best among us work to empower one another, to show respect, even to those who disrespect us.

Random Thoughts On The Passing Scene

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

February 7, 2021- I had a relatively productive day, getting a Special Needs child to do what her lead teacher said was a prodigious amount of work. That the child let me know when she’d had enough, in a nice way, was certainly fair, and she got a break for the last half hour.

The title of today’s post is borrowed from the great Thomas Sowell, with whom I have rarely agreed, but whose tone has always been respectful towards those of other viewpoints and whose diction has always been impeccable. Dr. Sowell’s columns of this ilk would touch on three or four items of general interest. This post will look at three such topics.

I am curious, as to why Supreme Court Associate Justice Clarence Thomas joined in a ruling that stayed a prior ruling, by a lower court, which would have nullified redistricting maps for Congressional seats, in the State of Alabama. Then again, he ruled earlier, with the majority of the Court, that much of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was antiquated and thus worthy of disposal. It is likely that the good Justice feels he will vote anyway, when the spirit moves, and needs no special fiat from Congress, or any other organization. He’s right in that respect, and it should always have been thus. Reality, though, oftentimes needs a nudge. No one in their right mind is going to tell an Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court to shuffle on down the road. As for those among the Joe and Jane Sixpacks of the nation, who happen to be African-American, the facts sometimes tell a different story. We have a long way to go, in the area of bona fide equality between the “races”. Going backwards should never be on the table.

Nina O’Brien, one of the top members of the United States Olympic Skiing Team, suffered a debilitating leg injury, in yesterday’s competition, at the Beijing Games. My parental mode kicked into gear, at this news. The heart hurts when any young person hurts, especially when the person is acting responsibly and in good faith. Active sport always entails a risk, as does any vigourous activity. Nonetheless, and even though this particular Games event is unlikely to turn out to be an American medals blowout, my heart goes out to everyone who has made the effort to keep this a sporting event, and not a High Five for authoritarian excess.

On a more personal note, in planning a combination observational and family/friends visit to the Southeast, from mid-March to mid-April, I came upon an eponymous soul, who is one of the management team at a botanical garden, in southwest Florida. He says he’ll be glad to meet me, and likewise. There are only about a half dozen of us, so this interesting encounter will likely be far more personally affirming than, say, a gathering of the John Smith Association or Mohammad Ali Society, if such entities even exist. That said, my best to everyone named John Smith, or Mohammad Ali.

Vagaries

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Fiction, Historical, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

February 6, 2022- As a switch, this evening, I put on a dark comedy about a woman who is recruited to be a Deputy U.S. Marshal, based on the true story of Francis Miller, an Oklahoma rancher, who DID become a peace officer. The antagonist in this film happened to be an Afrcian-American, who had himself owned slaves in Texas. Just how many such men there were in the South is debatable, but they did exist. This individual was presented as somewhat of a psychopath, who nonetheless served as a dispassionate observer of the hypocrisy exhibited by those who swore to uphold the law.

Antisocial people can frequently excel at pointing out the flaws of others, usually because it serves as a distraction-and helps them get the drop on those who are trying to bring them to justice. As happened, to a degree, in this film, so does it seem is unfolding on a wider scale, in the modern world. Autocrats love to turn the tables and claim what is wrong is actually right; what is dark is actually light; what is hateful is, in truth, loving kindness.

As it was for one Richard Andrews, in the film “Lady Lawman”, so it is for any number of would-be tyrants, who charm those living in uncertainty and self-loathing, building a loyal corps of defenders and toadies. How their particular stories play out, depends on the attention level of those seeking to bring justice to society, as well as to the integrity of those people. We’ve seen, in the past, how much fortitude and fastidiousness was required, in order for justice to prevail. Let us now again steel ourselves and not be either distracted or dissuaded by the difficulty presented by latter day miscreants, either at the local, national or international levels.

A Queen and Her Precipice

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

February 5, 2022– It’s been a busy day, with a service project and two meetings to keep me honest, until mid-afternoon. This is all part of what Elizabeth Peru talks about, when discussing keeping the soul relevant and staying connected to the Oneness. Besides, I do things that I enjoy.

It is also bittersweet, as the morning paper brought an essay on Cheslie Kryst. The suicide of any young, highly intelligent, sassy, multi-talented and comely human being is a disaster, at both a deeply personal and a profoundly social level. I looked at the images of Cheslie and could only think, “God, I wish I had known her, could have intuited something was wrong and reached out. ” If I have been guilty of overkill in any area, it has been of a near obsession with the well-being of the younger generations.

Yet, I leave my son to forge his own destiny, while dropping everything when he calls. The thing is, he knows he CAN CALL, day or night, and I will drop everything else. I devote snippets of time, here and there, to those in my circle of friends, of all ages, whose issues are chronic, even seemingly intractable, with the understanding that I will get over to see them or at least talk with them, when I can. The bottom line is that each one continues to matter, and none need consign themselves to the scrap heap.

Cheslie Kryst had family who loved her dearly; friends and mentors who guided her, the best they knew how to guide. She had a loving group of well-wishers, who cheered her on, throughout her wonderful moments of triumph. There was also a chorus of dementors, who hounded her to end her life, and in that final, terrible end moment of dejection, that last group forced her hand.

Simply put, no one deserves the fate wished on them, by those whose own lives are miserable and who lack the courage to set those wrecked houses in order. No one deserves to feel so alone, even in the dark of night or early morning. If you read this, know that, in a moment of despair, you may reach out and I will find a way to send out a message of hope-that you may back away from that ledge of doom.

Is Life Formulaic?

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Fiction, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

February 4, 2022- In the 2019 film, : “The Rising Hawk”, a small party of Ukrainians fends off both a much larger Mongolian force and their turncoat Ukrainian allies. This is reportedly based on an old Ukrainian legend, of a heroic fighter who lived into his nineties and his wife and helpmate, who in this telling is the daughter of the turncoats’ leader. It is a somewhat farfetched, and rather formulaic, action film, with people switching sides when convenient for the plot and brute strength displayed at exactly the right moments. It’s also a sign of the cinematic times that the film uses plot twists from at least three other films.

There are a few political movements, current in a few countries-including this one, that seem to be dependent on plot formulas turning in a certain direction, at just the right moment. It is no accident that the leaders of these movements have established their standing with a fair audience by borrowing shopworn tactics of demagogues past. There is a lot of wishful thinking on the part of those who believe that the world ought to unfold in a prescribed and orderly manner, as prescribed and ordered by a certain elite. Life, however, is not formulaic. There is an urban myth that Benito Mussolini made the trains in Italy run on time. Another credits Adolf Hitler with the humming of the German economy, by the late 1930s. Neither tale is true. Economies on a national scale have numerous moving parts, not credible to any one person-or clique. Effective strikes and slowdowns by labour movements can bring even the most hardheaded tactician down to size.

The film itself, ironically, demonstrates the humanity of the tough Mongolian leader, seen crying at the death of his son. There is also enough brutality on both sides-or on all three, if you will, to once again show the futility of war-even as there is a nod to valour. Finally, there is a split-second switch of fealty, near the end.

Is life formulaic? No, as it happens. Free will most often seems to get in the way of the best plot lines.