One of my dearest friends shared a TIME article, with us today, on another social network:

The Key to Happy Relationships? It’s Not All About Communication

Read more: http://healthland.time.com/2013/08/16/the-key-to-happy-relationships-its-not-all-about-communication/#ixzz2cYQTXfTF

This topic has been much on my mind, of late.  I reflect that my marriage, while not perfect by any means, was solid.  We knew, and honoured, each other’s tastes, likes and dislikes.  Our family members were ALL family.  My parents treated Penny’s family as their own, and vice versa.  She and I were committed to the idea that communication was important, but so was respect for feelings.  Talking had to be accompanied by listening, by hearing, and by taking each other’s feelings into consideration, when making decisions, as an individual and as partners in one of the most beautiful of all human institutions.

Society has cheapened the marital bond.  I’m not talking about things like open marriages, “swinging”,or even viewing of adult pornography.  Those practices, while neither necessarily nurturing of a marriage nor particularly harmful to it, are mostly honest attempts by one or both partners to make up for aspects of his/her life that were absent from adolescence or young adulthood.  No, the marital bond has been given short shrift by a general feeling that life is so transitory, that nothing matters much.  Odious terms, like “baby mama (or daddy)”, “Best Friend, with benefits”, or even “fuck buddy”, have replaced more conventional and respectful references to one’s significant other, mate, spouse, life partner.  I consider my wife, two years deceased, to be my soul mate.  I consider the person who shared this article with me, and others, to be my best friend in this world, sans “benefits”.  I’m just glad to know her and to share in her life, to the extent she sees fit.

When I am in a relationship with a woman, I try to know as much about the person as she is willing to share.  I do not pry, snoop, or stalk.  If she has a preference for certain things, I honour it, and do what I can to bring about her happiness.  The same holds true, to a lesser extent, for casual or platonic relationships.  It’s just good form, and increases goodwill between those who claim to be friends.

I hope married couples in general, and particularly those whose bond is “on the rocks”, will avail themselves of the TIME article and discuss these concepts fully, then put them into practice.  It’s always better “late” than never.

This morning, when I went to Prescott Farmers’ Market, I saw a poster for the Grand Opening of Deva Healing Center.  A young woman with a rescue dog greeted me and explained this was her center, established to help women and teens, in the manner of a sanctuary.  This has been sorely needed here, as it has elsewhere.  The mission is to help women of all ages “heal from trauma, pain, abuse and addiction through yoga, expressive arts, and therapeutic wilderness adventures.”

The Grand Opening was this evening, and I went for an hour and 15 minutes, being one of 32 people to help Bri Boertman in the launching of this most worthy effort.  While there, I received a chair massage, watched, and joined in, interpretive belly dancing.  Yes, I became the 62-year-old male belly dancer, joining five women and a little girl, in various gyrations, hip shakes  and arm waves, for one of the more interpretive of the selections.  Bri dancing in high heels was a bit painful for this everyfather to watch, but she seemed okay with it, for three minutes. Several women won raffle prizes, the group gathered for one last belly dance, in honour of the women of the world, and I headed back home, for an evening of listening to Celtic music, while those who knew each other previously, stayed around to support each others’ struggles and successes.

This will be a major focal point of what promises to be a concerted effort to help the women of Yavapai County, in raising their voices for curbing the disempowerment of their sisters, mothers, daughters and nieces.  There are a few of us men on the team, also.  We follow Bri’s lead.

Last week, I received two copies of an amazing book: “Amber, The True Story of a Courageous Young Girl”.  Yesterday, I was honoured to take the second copy down to Phoenix Children’s Hospital, and offer it to the hospital’s Family Health Library- The Emily Center.  Like Emily, Amber was a person struck down by childhood cancer.

She was the child of a friend, which made reading this book, and sharing it, all the more important for me.  It is said, quite often, that growing old is not for sissies, and I’m sure I will experience some of that, down the road a bit.  Let me say what else is not for “sissies”:  Watching someone you love waste away.  I have been there, first as a brother, then as a husband.  Yet, I can only dimly imagine being there as a parent, and how much more as a single parent.  Amber was courageous, and that courage was matched by the steely, fastidious, undying determination of one of the finest human beings I have ever known:  Her mother.

The title of this piece comes from a song by Bruce Springsteen, entitled “The Rising”.  He wrote it and offered it, in response to the September 11, 2001 attacks on New York and the Pentagon.  The children he mentions were those sent to their heavenly home that awful day.  He chooses to see them as an inspiration, not as anchors, or albatrosses.  Such are children like Emily and Amber. They move us in all sorts of directions:  Charitable fundraisers and ongoing donation programs; medical schools researching cures for such deadly plagues; prayer vigils; meal preparations for the parents and siblings keeping watch over the fighting child.  They move us, most importantly, to treasure just what is in front of us, just how fortunate we are.

Everyone’s problems are important, to them, and to those closest to them.  Everyone’s issues deserve a measure of attention, a resolution.  It is, however, no cliche to say that when the Most Important is front and center, the Important has to wait its turn.  There was, in those dark, painful, inspiring days, a decade or so ago, nothing more important in all the world than a child named Amber.  I would have been there, in spades, had I known.  Stay vigilant, stay involved, stay loving.   This world is not for sissies.

I heard from my dearest friend, this morning.  It was a brief message, but it meant the world to me, knowing that she is okay, and in charge of her own life, as always.

This brings to mind just what is the purpose of this life.  We are told, in the Baha’i Writings, that the purpose of physical reality is that each of us comes to know and love God.  As God is, in His Essence, unknowable, how are we to reflect such knowledge and love?

The answer that comes to me is that we show compassion for His creatures.  Baha’u’llah admonishes us to “Be fair to yourselves and others”.  We each must regard our own bodies as human temples, thus not abusing these bodies with excess of food and drink, much less an excess of mind-altering substances, however tempting such substances might seem, in times of stress.

Beyond self-care, the knowledge and love of God is reflected in one’s care and love for : Family members; fellows in faith, or, in the case of atheists and agnostics ,fellows in philosophy of life; co-workers; casual friends, and those who inhabit our in-most hearts.  Finally, compassion for those we encounter randomly, in the course of a day, and for the non-human- the plants, animals, and inanimate resources, is also a sign of knowing and loving God.

I will have something to say, in a later post, about those who presume to hate God.  For now, though, let us consider that, without a deep and abiding compassion for all of the above, including our own selves, we relinquish our mandate and toss aside the very purpose of our being.  None lives for self alone, and gets to feel alive, for very long.

I’m happy knowing you’re okay, my friend.

It’s said in physics that the breaking of ionic bonds has serious consequences for the entire chain to which the broken ions belong.  It is also said, in some circles, that each ion is attracted to some other ions, and repelled by still others, which may or may not be attracted to it.

This explains a chain of human interactions.  I referred yesterday to my high school friend not being attracted to a boy who loved her, and who, in turn, was liked by a girl to whom he was not attracted.

It goes around and around like this, throughout life.  I have been in the middle of this, several times.  I have been drawn to a person, who is drawn to someone else, who is drawn to yet another, and so on.  On my other side, there is one who is drawn to me, while turning away from someone who is drawn to her, who turns away from yet another, and you get the picture.  This could be Aretha Franklin’s “Chain of Fools” or just the human condition, voicing its disquiet.  Nonetheless, even those who feel like they’ve never been loved are attractive to someone- they just haven’t met, or acknowledged, that person.

Each turning away causes some turmoil.  The wiser among us realize that each soul, each human; each mating, befriending being, has criteria for making these choices, these bonds.  For some, the criteria are physical and so don’t endure.  For others, the criteria are spiritual, and less easily understood or accepted.  For still others, there is this attraction that makes no sense to the casual observer, and much less to the receiver of affection.

I’ve felt all three types.  With my wife, Penny, the first two sets of criteria existed simultaneously, and the spiritual set endures, though she is in another realm.  I’ve had plenty of physical attractions, and these have fizzled, after a very short time.  Ditto for those whose being attracted to me is purely physical.  There are a few in my present life to whom I am attracted spiritually.  These attractions linger in my heart, even though I no longer have any direct contact with them.  Luckily, I am not involved in the third type of attraction.  The last such was in 1976, and hurt the intended recipient, terribly.

My bottom line is this.  The most horrifying thing I can ever hear from another human being, especially someone I love, is “I am really hurt by what you did(said)”.  I know I must hear it, and make amends, but knowing I have crushed someone’s spirit shakes me to the core.

This is becoming a trend:  Soul-sharing in the morning, travel-sharing in the evening.  I think that’s how it will remain.

Anyway, my mind drifted back to my high school days, yesterday.  I was trying to find a parallel for just how I really feel about my best friend.  Romantic thoughts just don’t jibe, though she is a beautiful woman.  The thing is, 62, with under 40?  Umm, not very likely.  Brother and sister?  No, and for the same reason.

Here is a parallel.  In the summer of my junior year, I would spend most week days at Fireplace 10, of  Nahant Beach.  I would alternate between sunbathing and hanging in the blanket area, and body surfing, when the tide was coming in.

Although I had no girlfriend of any sort in high school, I had a lot of friends, both male and female.  The girls would often sit down on my blanket and just share their feelings and frustrations, seeking a “safe” male perspective.  It made me feel purposeful.  One of these was Joan.  She is two years younger than I, so she was entering her sophomore year.  There was a guy who was absolutely bonkers over Joan.  She was, and is, a lovely woman.  She was dating a guy already, though, and they were happy.  Charlie was one one of my best friends in school, and Joan felt safe talking with me about her dilemma.  She didn’t want to hurt N’s feelings, but it was she and Charlie, and no one else.

As my senior year progressed, N moved on, Charlie and Joan remained a committed couple and they both were among my best friends.  Joan was probably my best friend that year, and I could share my own hopes and dreams with her, where the guys with whom I hung out were far more opinionated and judgmental, with me and with one another.  Joan also didn’t mince words, when she thought I was being over the top, but there was never unkindness in her demeanor, or her voice.  She just was, and had nothing to prove.

Once I graduated, I would only see Joan now and then, at the Friendly’s Ice Cream Parlor, on Rte. One, or at random parties.  Three years after I graduated, we lost Charlie in a tragic accident.  Joan, bless her, moved on, slowly and with determination to survive and thrive.  She was doing well, the last time I saw her, working out of Boston and traveling, both for her job and for pleasure.  She waxed poetic, on that last meeting, about East Asia, especially Japan.  That was thirty-eight years ago.  I believe she is now a grandmother and still working.

She remains, though, an inspiration and a long-ago source of stability in my life.  I guess that’s why I feel the same about a person who is an inspiration to me now.  Many blessings, to you, my best friend on the planet.

This morning, things were made clear, as all matters of deep and abiding friendship must be, and must stay.  The person I will regard as my best friend, for the rest of my earthly life, will remain just that.  I will have her back, whenever she needs me.  She does not have to provide anything in return, other than respect for me as a person.  Today, she provided that respect in spades, which only deepens my regard for her as a human being, and as a spiritual presence.

There is no more honourable and enduring title that may be bestowed on a person, by another, than “steadfast friend”.  Too often, we can get confused by the intensity of our feelings and send the wheels of these relationships careening off one of the precipices which are all too prevalent in our psychosocial environment.  The 1970’s pop hit, “Rollercoaster of Love” pokes gentle fun at that.  This is especially true of relationships between people who recognize each other as attractive.  It is not fair, in the end, to a person who is in a vulnerable or transitional state, to place too much emphasis on the ephemeral, the physical aspects of friendship.

Each of us has a soul mate.  Once we find him or her, it lasts for all eternity, regardless of whether death or divorce removes the person from one’s physical reality.  This is the point to which my best friend and I came today.  It cements our friendship, and ought to reassure our respective soul mates that they matter most.

When I love a person, regardless of the level that love takes, I love them on their own terms, and unconditionally on mine.  There are no expectations of a reward for me, save what God ordains.  I am a somewhat romantic soul.  I believe that hugging and cuddling have benefits.  I am not, however, indiscriminate in that regard, nor am I ever of a mind to be hurtful to another human being.  A friend recently commented elsewhere that he sees other men as competition.  I am sorry he feels that way.  Every person put on this Earth is entitled to have some ONE to whom they can bond, and with whom they feel safe.  Others may come and go.  A few stay around, as cadre of support and refuge, but those steadfast friends will always be there for the purpose of safeguarding their well-loved friend AND his/her relationship with his/her soul mate.  The soul mate is never, for an instant, regarded as disposable.  To do so, is to show abject disregard for the person whom the friend claims to love.

When Penny had been in the spiritual world for a mere five months, I was getting fawning looks from women who fancied themselves as potential replacements for her.  I therefore know how my best friend must feel, as she navigates one of the most treacherous challenges of her life.  This, though, is where several of us write the book on this sort of thing.  She stands by her love for her man.  He takes the bull by the horns and becomes a better person than he ever was.  Their loyal friends, including me, stand by BOTH of them, as a unit, and do not let harm come to either one, including, especially harm from one to the other, or harm to themselves.

So, that’s where my deepest self is, and if the day comes when I meet someone who feels as much for me as I feel for her, then maybe a second marriage will be an option.  I haven’t met that person yet.  If it happens, though, Christina and Corey, I want you both at the wedding, as guests of honour.

Life is getting more beautiful every day.  Stay well, my friends, all of you.

I am going to take a few minutes with this, before going out to pull more weeds in my front yard.  Of course, I will also post about the American bison and two of Yellowstone’s southern lakes, later today.

A man I have never met, but have come to know vicariously, through the eyes of a mutual friend, is struggling with a medical condition that I’ll not mention here.  He has not, to the best of my knowledge, received adequate resolution to this condition.  He has opted to self-medicate, and to excess.

Some others I know have responded to his actions with ill-disguised scorn.  This is the way, it seems, of modern society, at least here in the West.  In so doing, they disregard the words of  Jesus the Christ, “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John, 8:7. They may not have read similar words from the Pen of Baha’u’llah, “If ye meet the abased or the down-trodden, turn not away disdainfully from them, for the King of Glory ever watcheth over them and surroundeth them with such tenderness as none can fathom except them that have suffered their wishes and desires to be merged in the Will of your Lord, the Gracious, the All-Wise. ” Gleanings From The Writings of Baha’u’llah, 315:23.

It’s something we all do, from time to time, for any number of reasons.  Perhaps, as in my own case in times past, it’s a matter of expediency. It might also be that the onlooker sees something in him/herself that is reflected in the other person’s real or perceived transgressions.  The bottom line, though, is this:  The suffering person is still in the world; is still in the lives of those he loves and of those who love him; still has the capacity to heal, to grow, to change.  No judgment from another person will change that reality.

High horses don’t take well to the high ground.  They stumble on the scree and pebbles, which the careful goats and sheep navigate so well.  History shows that the Caiaphases, De Torquemadas, McCarthys and Starrs of the world tend to fall precipitously, when they reach the inevitable climax of their power.  God, the Unknowable, is the only Judge Whose Hand is sure, steady and equitable.

This is a man who, though I have never met him and may never meet him, is worth my love and support- however indirect and oblique that love and support have to be.  You and I gain nothing by his failure, and may well benefit in many ways by his recovery.  So, I remain dismounted from my high horse and lead it gently through the scree and pebbles.

It’s been a lot of sojourning, both physical and spiritual, these past two weeks.  I have been to only good places, in terms of physical travel.  Nowhere have I been let down, much, by the people around me, or the people I have seen.

Spiritually, I have been blessed with feeling connected to the ancients and the departed souls, in places like the Grand Tetons, Medicine Wheel, Devils Tower, Harney Peak, the Baha’i House of Worship in Wilmette, IL,  Cahokia Mounds, and today, atop El Dorado Canyon.

Emotions have always been my Achilles heal.  As I said in a previous post, I am an acquired taste.  Too intense by half, I have seen plenty of struggle, these many years.  I’ve fallen in lust several times, from teenage crushes and indiscriminate kissing, in my teens and twenties, to fanciful attachments to women, over the past 18 months, which have not gone anywhere.  In fairness, neither have the fanciful attachments that random women have had on me.  It has to be a two-way street, and we all get hurt by one person or another, every so often.

I’ve had two  women in my life whom I love (present tense intentional) strongly and deeply.  One became my wife, my soul mate,and remained by my side until her passing, two years ago.  As I write this, she is nearby, I feel.

The other is one I regard as my best friend, but is one who has a strong, independent life of her own, living far from me.  She impacts my life by her day to day acceptance of challenges, which have been considerable for her, of late.  She has awesome goals for the immediate future, and I support her 100 %.   She is my best friend because she inspires me.

I live alone, for the time being, by choice, because I have needed the past two years to regroup and recuperate from the severe blow of March, 2011.  I have refused to stay isolated, however, and therein lies my survival and recovery.  Full involvement with life in my adopted community of Prescott has helped me accelerate that process.

I have traveled extensively in the United States, over the past 18 months, not as a flight mechanism, but as a means of discovery, both of who I am and what makes our nation tick.  The saying goes, “Wherever you go, there you are”, so running away is a chimera.

The human spirit is, like Abraham Lincoln described his office of the Presidency, of enormous power.  We are made with all the virtues of the higher power.  I have seen people, who have let themselves be consumed by depression, guilt and stress- none of which are intended for us by the Creator, become inspired, recover from their funk at an astonishing pace, and soar in achievement and discovery.  We limit ourselves only by our attachments.

I am not a man of great achievement.  I have helped several hundred, maybe a few thousand, people in my life, both professionally and personally, to get over their hang-ups and sense of limitations, their scarcity mentality.  I was a good caretaker to my wife, in her last years.  With her, I raised a fine, industrious young man.  I cannot walk with a high level of pride, though, because occasionally, people have been hurt by me.  I have, whenever possible, “manned-up” and made it right for them again, but the recovery rate is not 100%.

I   have, over the past two weeks, visited with a variety of people.  I am struck by those who insist they must be isolated because “no one wants me”.  The only answer to curbing isolation is to get out there and live.  God did not put us on this earth to be estranged from our fellows.  He put us here to do great things, as a group, and individually.

I can continue to be of service, whether in Prescott for the time being or elsewhere, possibly as early as next year.  My son is an asset to the United States Navy, now and for at least the next two years.  My brothers are important to the companies for whom they work.  My best friend is in the process of changing careers and resuming activity in a field of endeavor in which she has been passionate in the past.  Each of you, my reader-friends, has a passion, and a skill set, that are needed by somebody. The late Joseph Campbell said “Follow your bliss”.  This was not a pitch to idleness and sloth.  Lao-tse wrote, thousands of years ago, “Do what you love, and you will never work another day in your life”.

Aloneness, with a modicum of privacy, lets us make key personal decisions in a place of  serenity, away from the  welter of public opinion, whether electronic or physical.  Isolation, on the other hand, stunts our growth as human beings.  No one, save the most heinous of felons, is so wretched that he or she must hide from all humanity in perpetuity.  We belong largely together, balancing the dignity of privacy with the need to sound people out, on matters large and small.

These are things that have come into my mind and heart, while figuring out what my place is in the scheme of things and in the life spaces of those closest to my heart.  I only look forward to what lies ahead.  Like my friend, I will embrace life with the passion it deserves.  See you all out there, following your bliss.

( I am not putting this on Facebook.  I would rather have people come here, from now on, for my more personal posts.)