Ten Gratitudes

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November 25, 2021, Grapevine- One of the inherent goodnesses of this day, that is so strangely placed one month after the last harvests have been completed in most parts of the Northern Hemisphere, is that so many people nonetheless stop to count their blessings. There will always be those who say they have none, but that is a topic for another time. The Universe will see such people along, in its way.

I spoke with my mother and each of my siblings, earlier today, and being comforted by the overall spirit of optimism that was conveyed. My little family and I had a lovely Thanksgiving Dinner, which they put together nicely, within the framework of the usual lunch hour. The meal set me to thinking of those aspects of my life that generate gratefulness. These are what come to mind, in this time of ongoing crisis and victory, and in no particular order of importance:

  1. I am more accepted and honoured, by more people, than at any time in my life. Those who once found me strange have expanded their own viewpoints, either by dint of enlightenment or by virtue of going through life’s inevitable grind. I also find it easier to understand their pain.
  2. My judgment is clearer, more focused than it has been in times past. A good part of that comes from moving away from overthinking.
  3. Every person dear to me is in generally good health. Some are getting over mild cases of COVID, but that is more incidental than chronic. They are recovering and will be back in good stead, very shortly.
  4. Humanity is moving in an essentially positive direction. Problems of living will always be with us, and there will ever be the challenges posed by the wayward, the disgruntled and the egocentric. By and large, though, we have as a species made great strides in facing the gauntlet of a harsh world.
  5. I find much to admire, in a broad cross-section of humanity. The groundedness and tradition of conservatives meshes far more easily, in my mind, with the inclusiveness and innovation of progressives than either group sometimes can countenance.
  6. The youngest generations, even in the one-step forward, two-steps back matter of overcoming prejudice, are showing more maturity, at a younger age, by and large.
  7. It is easier to ignore the wirepullers and shrill voices of negativism than it once was for me. Keeping eyes on the prize of a better world is the only true path.
  8. People at the grassroots are taking back their communities, and not in an exclusionary or hierarchical manner. The elites will find that they must meld with the vast majority of humanity, not the other way around-despite the temporary trends in some areas towards control by artificial intelligence and autocratic structures. As people get over their collective fears, they are banding together in a united front.
  9. The growing awareness that the human body has what it needs to heal itself, and that all that is supplemental to this healing may be found in nature, is a corollary to this grassroots renaissance.
  10. The great Spiritual Teachers, speaking with one Voice, are showing us the way towards an even brighter future for this abundant planet.

Justice Is A Long Haul

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November 24, 2021, Grapevine, TX- “The best beloved of all things in my sight is justice.”-Baha’u’llah.

Tonight, after sundown and all day tomorrow marks the 109th observance of the Day of the Covenant, a day set aside by Baha’is to honour the life of ‘Abdu’l-Baha. This happened because He was born on May 23, 1844, which was the very day that al-Bab, Herald of the coming of Baha’u’llah, declared His own Mission to the world. ‘Abdu’l-Baha would never have countenanced anything on His behalf which would have taken even a smidgen of attention away from honouring al-Bab, on that day. He acquiesced to letting the Faithful devote one day a year in honour of His life: November 26, by solar reckoning. When we switched to observing several Holy Days by lunar reckoning, there came about circumstances when the Holy Day falls a day or two before 11/26.

The Covenant between Baha’u’llah and His followers, of which ‘Abdu’l-Baha was the chief Exemplar, is an agreement rooted in justice. Divinely inspired justice is hardly a matter of an imagined deity tossing lightning bolts at miscreants or any kind of deus ex maxina, for that matter. Like its more human derivative, true justice is a process. and a therefore a long haul.

I mention all this because there are times when a person who commits a moral failing, but not a criminal act, may be found innocent of criminal wrongdoing, by a jury of peers and continue to suffer within self and within the wider society. History is replete with such cases, and no names need be mentioned here.

There are also cases where a person, or people, are found guilty of criminal wrongdoing, by a similar jury and the wider society finds agreement-with a minority of people begging to differ. We saw such a verdict rendered today. The matter in question took a long time to resolve, as several commentators have observed, with some further allusions to the ongoing investigations into the affairs of January 6.

Justice is a long haul. The perpetrators of the murders of Emmett Till and of Medgar Evers, as well as the killers of the little girls in the Birmingham bombing of 1963, were brought to justice with all deliberate speed-but the convictions held. The alleged assassins of John F. and Robert Kennedy and of Martin Luther King, Jr. were brought to swift justice-either judicial or vigilante, but were they the sole killers-or even the actual ones, or were they just convenient scapegoats? I have my doubts, especially following the recent revelations regarding the assassination of Malcolm X.

The justice which meshes with that described by Baha’u’llah is potentially an arduous process, one that merits careful contemplation, on this Day of the Covenant, which leads us into the American Thanksgiving. That it is so, does not diminish its importance in our lives.

Waukesha

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November 22, 2021- The small children, ages 7 and 9, told their mother they never want to go to a parade ever again. There is no more heartbreaking statement that can ever be heard.

A celebration of community, of diversity, of life should never become the stage for the passions of the disaffected, the disgruntled, the deranged. This is true whether one is talking about the United States Capitol, on the day of a Constitutional procedure, or the downtown of a vibrant little city like Waukesha, Wisconsin, on a day of wholesome togetherness. It was true in Las Vegas, on the day of Route 91 Harvest, in 2017, and at houses of worship in North Charleston, Pittsburgh and Sutherland, TX. It was true during the Boston Marathon, in 2013 and in the halls of learning in places like Columbine High School, Sandy Hook Elementary and Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School. It has been true, every single time a disaffected, disgruntled, deranged person has taken out a twisted sense of entitlement and revenge against the broader public. It is true, whether the individual, or group of same, is a State Actor or just a private person wanting the world to know that he feels wronged, that his rights are above everyone else’s.

Four of the people slain yesterday were grandmothers. They were seemingly targeted by their assassin, for reasons presently known only to him. They were, in my humble estimation, innocent of any wrongdoing. They were there solely to bring “Comfort and Joy”, the theme as it were of the parade itself. There were small children, 18 at last count, injured. There were high school bandmates and cheerleaders, the very epitome of everything that is positive about life. There was a little girl, dancing in a pink suit, narrowly missed by the perpetrator’s vehicle.

I have a family member, five hours from Waukesha, who is a cheerleader. Here in Prescott, the youngest child of two dear friends is in his last year of playing in a high school band. If either of them were to be the least bit injured in an incident such as happened yesterday, I would be apoplectic-even more than I am right now.

Human life is given by the Creator, by God-if you will. Human life is not given, just so that it may be randomly taken, or even threatened, by individuals-no matter how righteously they present themselves or their cause. Human life is given, that its holders may pursue their positive, life-affirming, socially-advancing talents and faculties to their utmost.

Waukesha, may you heal-as the communities afflicted before you have healed; nay, are still healing. America, may we regain our sanity, little by little, until this sort of horror becomes a bad memory.

Once Forward, Twice Back, Thrice Forward

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November 21, 2021-

The horse took a tentative step forward, the wolves gathered in front, the steed took two steps back, the canines stiffened, ready to charge, but the equine charged first, taking three bold steps forward, then broke into a canter, then a gallop, and leapt over the startled predators.

His hind hooves smacked the alpha male, as his rear legs rose, and the pack slowly retreated, relying on instinct, trying to figure their collective next move.

The horse’s next move was to continue towards the water trough, which he had as his goal, before being so rudely interrupted.

Many times in life, one has a worthy goal that doesn’t fit the agenda of others. Some may put up roadblocks and force a retreat. A worthwhile plan may be to try and negotiate a peaceful solution, meeting the needs of those who seem to represent an obstacle. There are times, however, when the only agenda of those who are obstructing is to obstruct. It is then, that one who strives must leap over the barrier.

A Child Is A Child

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November 19, 2021- I have friends and family, on both sides of the Chasm, when it comes to discussions of race. Just so we’re clear, I am dead set against ANY policy or action that limits or prevents a person from following his/her life plan-so long as that plan does not itself involve limiting or preventing another person from following theirs.

It started, in a sense, with Emmett Till. When he was killed, I was four. An older cousin saw the news on TV and commented: “That is just plain SICK!” I asked what was sick and he told me that a kid, not much older than he, was killed by some crazy people in a place called Mississippi. I knew that name, because the older girls in the neighbourhood spelled it out while jumping rope. It bothered me, from that time on, that adults would kill a child.

As time went on, I witnessed and experienced all types of adult behaviour towards children-mostly good, but some very wicked things as well. I was, thankfully, never beaten or abused-but I knew plenty of boys and girls who were.

Growing up in a mostly White town, I saw and heard people of all ages-including some of my mates, express hostility towards people of other racial groups. In fairness, they were just as caustic towards people of other European ethnicities. I never felt such animosity towards anyone, but as the saying goes, “You stand in chalk, you inhale the dust.” It took time in the Army and frank discussions with people of other backgrounds, in which I chose to listen more than talk, for me to truly understand their experiences.

It is the duty of adults to teach teens in the ways of maturity. Maturity, as my father explained to me, means not rushing furiously into a situation, unprepared and likely overmatched. Now, we see what happens when the reverse is true. Kyle Rittenhouse went into battle, in his own mind, against an imagined foe that he barely understood, and of whose diversity he was completely ignorant. Someone in his life owed him a hand of restraint- not a violent hand, but a firm one.

Like many people in adolescence, he seemed to think he was capable of rising to the occasion and fending off those who had trouble in mind. Ironically, it was not the thugs on the periphery of the social justice movement whom he faced down, that awful night. It was three grown men, who likely fancied themselves allies of that movement, coming at him, a boy of 17.

I question how he was able to bring an AR15 with him, when the minimum age for BUYING such a weapon is 18. Yet, there it was, in his hands, after who knows how much training and practice he had been given in its use. Even people in the military, who are, with rare exceptions, 18 and over, have to have a minimum of eight weeks of training in the handling, use and maintenance of firearms, especially automatic weapons. Kyle should not have been there alone. Adults should have been with him, and then as a force of restraint.

There is, additionally, the research into the maturation of the human brain. The brain is not completely formed until the age of 25, if then. I look back on myself, in my teens and twenties, and sometimes shudder that I am still alive- my parents’ best efforts to raise me aside.

We are, however, in a crisis of adulthood when, once again, people at the street level are left trying to explain to the wider society why People of Colour are frustrated and angry-while not exactly hearing the voices of reason from those above them, in the halls of power. We are in a crisis of adulthood when a child is castigated in the court of public opinion, publicly coddled by a sitting judge and probably just as confused as he was on that awful night. We are in a crisis of adulthood when the voices of the nation’s leadership use vitriol, rather than step back, breathe deeply and foster healing. We are in a crisis of adulthood, when we just go back to the same sides, across the Chasm, that led us here in the first place.

A good-hearted, gentle family member remarked this evening that she just wants to see love for everyone. She is a conservative Christian. I am a gadfly, who leans progressive, in most matters. My sentiments, though, are the same.

A child is a child; raise him (her)!

Musings On A Day of Rest

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November 18, 2021- As I was leaving the clinic yesterday, the nurse responsible for wrapping the stitched area with gauze and bandages had done a seamless, excellent job. She gave me instructions for carefully showering, not exercising or doing anything strenuous and leaving the covering on for at least 48 hours.

As I had more or less cleared my calendar of work, for today and tomorrow, this set of instructions seemed fortuitous. Although I tend to march to my own drummer, when it comes to following a regimen prescribed by a health professional, there is no question of adherence. It’s just nicer to be around, and fully functioning, for a while longer.

So, I sat inside most of the day, moving around enough so that I stayed relevant. There was the simple task of putting the trash barrels back. There was light food preparation. There was making sure the temperature on my water heater was raised (so that showers are no longer tepid). Most every other activity was mental: Planning Thanksgiving and the days around it, with my little family; sending out notifications for activities this weekend; watching a commemorative video about ‘Abdu’l-Baha, as the Centenary of His passing approaches (November 27).

Life is ever a trade-off. Tomorrow, at 4 p.m., the bandages will be carefully removed, and I will look to be the walking wounded for a week or two. That’s okay. The seasoned doctors and the nurses who tend, very carefully, to the varied needs of their patients deserve nothing but respect and appreciation, the kind that comes from following instructions; the kind that comes from not second-guessing and casting aspersions on their motivation. It’s all just another variation on the conviction that every person, from a student to a retired volunteer, who lives and works honestly, will have my support and encouragement.

Tomorrow will see a bit more activity, but this day was a good one-and productively healing.

The Powers That Be

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November 16, 2021- The various groups of 11-12 year-olds that convened today made a concerted effort to complete their tasks, which were focused on the study of Early Man, with regard to four subtopics: Hunting, gathering/fundamental agriculture, pre-family socialization and intergroup relationships. Some wondered what it would have been like to have encountered pre-historic humans. The boys, in particular, were musing about having to face muscle-bound and aggressive creatures. A couple of the girls talked about always having to work and perhaps having no real status. The focus on personal power was quite telling.

Many today have relinquished their own power-in the face of those tests and trials of which I wrote, in the previous post. This relegation is certainly a contributor to fatigue, and to dis-ease. In the face of such disempowerment, is it any wonder that the pandemic is the “gift that keeps on giving”-and taking? To rely on The Party, on The Movement, on an individual benefactor, or even on a small group of benefactors, is a falsehood, destined to lead to despair and cynicism. My mother calls it magical thinking-and I call that a spot-on assessment.

Every one of us has far more power to achieve than many ever give themselves their due. I daresay that, if we realize, really recognize who we are, then the various “industries” that prey on the masses-the drug cartels, large reaction-oriented pharmaceutical companies, manufacturers of cheap alcoholic beverages, and all manner of “snake-oil” vendors will be desperately seeking other lines of work. Realistically, that likely won’t happen in the next few years-but there will come a time.

The learning, as to the depths of one’s power-given each of us at birth, takes as long as one feels is needed to recognize it and to determine how best to bring it to bear. It is my work to keep on imparting that message to children and youth, to be a way shower, and to persist in reminding those who say they are helpless, that their weakness is an illusion-and that the power of the individual sometimes needs to be reflected by the power of the group.

No one is less strong than s(he) feels.

Exhausted

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November 15, 2021- The young woman looked at the police officer who had come to her assistance, and said, flat-out, “I am just…so…tired. There is no end.”

I am not exhausted, though there have been times….. Dan Rather posted a provocative essay, entitled “It’s Okay To Be Exhausted”, in yesterday’s edition of the Blogsite “Steady”. He listed all the things that this modern world has thrown at us, which lead to so many being at the point of zero returns. Part of the issue is the ubiquity of information. No matter where one lives in the world, he or she can be, and often is, bombarded with the plights of those less fortunate-often with urgent pleas for help (preferably financial), on the double. This, on top of politics, social (in)justice, false equivalence, restrictions on travel, restrictions on parental involvement in the schools, ham-handed governance (from both ends of the spectrum, and all points in between), climate change, pro-choice, pro-life, Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, All Lives Matter, vitriol, supply chain issues, inflation, Paul Gosar’s anime, AOC’s pickle jar, Michael Flynn’s Theocracy, income inequality, double taxation of estates. I almost miss the days of “Where’s the Beef?” Wow, I didn’t even mention the pandemic.

What matters to me the most is the well-being of those around me-either physically in the community, by my side when on the road, and children/teens-anywhere I happen to be. What seems to matter the most, to those with whom I talk, is being heard and respected. None of us really need to be told how to raise our children. None of us really need to be told to look out for our sickly loved ones. None of us really need to be told that we’re doomed unless we follow _______________ (fill in the blanks).

What matters most is love-the only source of energy that can restore the exhausted ones who are all around. It is not a product of ideology, of lifestyle choices or of political affiliation. It is not demonstrated by giving all one has, willy-nilly, and making oneself a ward of someone else. It is bestowed on us at birth, and hopefully nurtured by family, community and one’s affiliates-near and far.

“Love gives life to the lifeless”-‘Abdu’l-Baha

Remembrance

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November 11, 2021- Today being Veteran’s Day, across the United States and Remembrance Day in Canada and elsewhere, there were large parades in a number of cities and towns. Prescott’s parade lasted 1 1/2 hours. All the branches of the Armed Services, service organizations, politicians of various stripes, high school marching bands and ROTC units, the Scouts, the Young Marines, service dogs and horses, the usual classic cars-and one clown car were on hand. There was a Red Cross contingent. I brought my RC apparel, but never found the group-until the end of the parade. It was alright being a spectator, though. The weather was mild and I got to talk with other veterans.

The grifters came back, momentarily. This time, I had an incoming phone call, which was dropped and the number blocked. There was a text message, urging me to let them back on my e-mail feed. That, too, was deleted. For a few minutes, guilt was processed and I remembered part of my conversation with my friend in Dana Point-about how much progress I had made, in not feeling responsible for saving people from their own laziness and indolence. In the end, the decision was to not give in-ever- to the renewed attempts at extracting money from me. I have said before, that poor areas in Africa, and every other suffering place in the world, can only be elevated by collective action-not from abroad, but by the local citizenry themselves. That remains so.

I am living a better life now; making room for other people to be more spontaneously let into my world; being neither selfish nor a doormat. This is the best way I can remember all who sacrificed-and who still live honourable lives.

Astroworld

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November 8, 2021, San Diego– A lot of the conversation with friend, J, at Harpoon Henry’s Restaurant, in Dana Point, had to do with self-assessment and self-accounting. This was my first visit with her in two years, due to both the pandemic and the current circumstances of her life. J and I normally walk a bit along a beach of her choosing- Crystal Cove, Laguna Beach and Dana Point being her favourites. For the time being, such walks are on hold, but it was a good time for catching up. We agreed that it has been quite a year, all around. There have been ongoing debates and recriminations passed around, unwitting public figures being drawn into the limelight and a penchant for name-calling taking the place of people owning their decisions and the resulting behaviours. Through all the negativity, the pandemic continues, albeit in a slowly diminishing manner and responsibility takes a vacation-not in the beach towns, but at large public events.

Astroworld’s hip hop concert, over this past weekend, ended in horrific fashion, with eight people being crushed to death, and dozens more injured, in a stampede. There are further intimations of people being jabbed by hypodermic needles, laced with illicit drugs, at certain points during the Travis Scott concert. The performer himself couldn’t hear people calling for assistance for those injured or dying, until it was too late.

It is time for musicians, performance artists- and politicians to take stock, not only of how their words and actions immediately affect their audiences, but also how these infest the muscle memory of significant segments of society. Travis Scott cannot bring back his dead and injured fans-nor is he, alone, likely to curb the increasing tendency towards lurching towards abandon, when crowds of people are whipped into a frenzy. Astroworld should be a wake-up call for people to exercise restraint and look out for those around them. In the same way, Columbine, Sandy Hook, Parkland, Las Vegas, North Charleston each should have been a wake-up call for curbing the access by mentally ill people to firearms.

The solution is spiritual. J and I each have chosen different paths to the sacred. Yet, both of us have found that sacred, in a way that makes sense to us, as individuals. It would have been all too easy, at least for me, to embark on acts of throwing caution to the wind-and giving vent to the wildest of urges-had I not been raised to act in a conscientious manner. Even so, trial and error have taken their toll, though thankfully not in a manner that was injurious or lethal to another human being. I can credit belief for the fact that such tendencies have gradually faded.

My heart always aches for those who suffer, needlessly, in events that go awry or where destruction is intended. The stampede at Astroworld and the apartment collapse in Lagos, also this weekend, are only the latest examples of the consequence that accrues, when we do not-even for the briefest of times, look upon the well-being of our neighbours with the same vigilance that we look upon our own.