The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 6: The Cabin, The Pyramid and The Homage Walk

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June 6, 2020, North Rim of Grand Canyon-

Of all things that get done in life, none exceed in value the homage paid to those who have gone before. As giving, to those in need, results in getting more of what oneself could use, so does paying respects, to those who have transitioned, bring more honour to the one paying the respects.

I was able to stay in a fine little cabin, a duplex, which I shared with a family of three, who kept to themselves. Jacob Lake Lodge has been built into a resort, of modest size, staying free from any ostentatiousness. It has a small, but quality, restaurant, where pandemic-based spacing is in effect, and of course, masks helped give a sense of health security, for both patrons and staff-when we weren’t eating or drinking, of course.

Cabin 10, where I stayed at Jacob Lake Inn.

After hiking a “warm-up” trail, in search of the actual Jacob Lake, I found only an RV Park, and so returned to the resort, in time for check-out. Then, it was off to the Canyon!

There is a plan being considered, that will result in a sizable amount of trees being cut, in Kaibab National Forest, along the road to North Rim. There is a huge amount of slash and burned-out trunks, left from previous fires and intense storms. To me, it would make the most sense to clear that mess, and probably would put a fair number of people to meaningful work, this month and next. As the trees under consideration are “old growth” forest, it is especially heart-rending to consider the unnecessary damage to the ecosystems.

After arriving at North Kaibab Trailhead, where the Elantra would rest, while I hiked, it took a short bit of checking the route, to make sure I din’t end up going down the North Kaibab Trail, itself. Ken Patrick Trail, a bit to the north of the steep big kahuna, would take me to Uncle Jim Trail. With the help of a thru-hiker doing the Arizona Trail, I was on my way, in short order. You can see from the sign, below, that Ken Patrick was dedicated to service with the National Parks.

About 500 feet along the trail, a large ponderosa pine had fallen across the path, so I went up and around the mess. Three other trees would lie across the trail, at different points.

The first set of overlooks lies about 1/4 mile along the Ken Patrick Trail. This view mirrored what I saw last October, from the Bright Angel Point trail.

The limestone columns remind me of horse heads.
Here is a cross section of the Inner Basin.

Nature leaves her little jokes, even at the expense of damaged trees.

A guidepost, perhaps?

Sooner than I expected, it was time to take a hard right.

The trail junction.

The first segment of Uncle Jim Trail is four tenths of a mile. It is also the area with the most up and down inclines, and the only place where there are switchbacks, albeit mild ones. Two downed trees greeted us hikers, along this stretch, as well.

At 7/10 of a mile, along the western leg of Uncle Jim Trail’s 2.1-mile loop, I came to a series of fabulous canyon views.

This drop-off looks milder than it is.
Who’s watching whom?

Finding a heart-shaped rock, I placed it carefully against a small set of wood shavings.

A little altar

This natural eroded bowl could serve as an amphitheater.

Looking at this “amphitheater”, I also saw a back country hiker looking over its edge.

I came upon an unofficial overlook, east of the main viewpoint, and appreciated the two “guardians”, looking back towards the rim.

Sandstone heads have this mesa to themselves.

Looking out from this vantage, at Uncle Jim Point, I have a tripod to help me focus.

Here’s a view towards the Inner Basin.

Heading out from this vantage point, I spotted a burnt ponderosa, which could serve as a memory pole, of sorts.

A woodpecker’s home and a place to mark memories.

I spent a few minutes sitting on the landing of a restroom building, writing in my journal. As I did, a fierce gust of wind came up and blew my sunglasses off the landing. I looke for the shades, for about ten minutes, but to no avail. If that is my offering to the forces of nature, so be it. I have a feeling that the wind took them all the way to the rim, and over.

Hearing happy voices, I followed the tral to the main viewpoint. There were four women, a couple and me, taking one another’s photographs. Thus, a pyramid could be envisioned: Four at the base, two in the middle and one on top.

Here I am, courtesy of the “better half” of the couple.

With Uncle Jim Point in the background, I fulfilled a promise to myself and to his family.

Uncle Jim Point juts out into the Inner Canyon.

With that, the two parties and I leapfrogged one another, on the way back, as each took rest breaks. We all missed the junction sign, going back on the Ken Patrick Trail by osmosis. I last saw the four women taking an extended photo shoot at the first overlook. The couple, it turns out, are from Santa Monica, and were enjoying their first venture out of town, since January.

So, my heart’s desire was fulfilled and I headed out of the Canyon, with a brief stop at North Country Market, for a well-earned salted caramel latte and a long, but smooth, drive to Flagstaff.

The Summer of Rising Tides, Day 2: Fear Itself

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June 2, 2020–

One of the things on which many men of my generation claim to pried themselves is a relative lack of fear. Many went to serve in the military, in VietNam, saw horrendous things and came back with PTSD. Part of their coping has led to a very strong sense that nothing in civilian American life even comes close to what was experienced in wartime. Thus, COVID-19 is “a socialist hoax” or “an assault on freedom”.

I will agree with the second part. I just don’t agree with my contemporaries’ idea of the assailant. It’s academic, at this point, as to the exact source of the virus. All that is known is that the first victims were in Wuhan. It is not, a brainchild of an American socialist who is looking to take over our country, by killing off conservatives, as some have actually claimed. As I said last night, that socialist is very long in the tooth, and more at risk of getting COVID-19 himself, than most of us are.

Well, live long enough, and you’re bound to hear and see just about anything. There are still people in the world who swear that the Earth is flat, that witches once wore peaked hats and rode on broomsticks, and that there are Sasquatch in the Cascades. We have a wealth of science fiction, being popularized, all along the continuum of thought.

This year, though, is a SyFy dreamworld-and for many, a nightmare. I’ve had a few moments of trepidation, myself. So far, none of my fears, as to personal safety, have panned out. My most earnest prayers, thus, have to be for the safety and well-being of others.

Pain Body

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May 27, 2020-

There has been, in the time of pandemic, a particularly acute explosion of awareness, of various acts of violence against people of colour, by both those in authority and private individuals; against indigenous or pastoral groups, by those seeking to exploit mineral or plant resources, without having done the requisite research into archaeological and anthropological remnants at the resource site; by those who are ust lashing out at whoever disagrees with them, on a given issue.

The philosopher, Eckhart Tolle, refers to the existence of a pain body, which stores physical and emotional memories of unhealed pain. This concept explains everything from the phantom limb, felt by amputees to the acting out, by dementia patients, recalling an abuse from many decades earlier.

Many are acting out their pain body memories right now. I know what they are feeling is real-I went through the purging of much buried emotional pain, some of it from my formative years, during the period 2008-14. Part of it surfaced, as I was still caring for my dying wife. The rest came out while I was rebuilding my life. It had to all be handled as quietly as possible, so I thought. None of it was Penny’s fault, or our son’s. Most of it, in truth, came from bad decisions I made, or from things happening around me that, for the most part, were no one’s actual fault.

I have reached the point of stasis, so I know that it is possible to overcome one’s buried pain. It involves communication. It involves trust. It involves commitment to self. It involves resolution. It involves reconciliation and forgiveness-especially towards self.

Those who have committed, and are still committing, crimes against humanity are also committing crimes against themselves-whether they tell themselves it’s for the greater good, for the stockholders or for the survival of the community. It is still an injurious act-with no real winners.

Let us all give some thought to healing our pain bodies.

InCel

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May 24, 2020-

The relative calm, that has accompanied our state’s lifting of a stay-at-home order, was broken last Wednesday evening. In the Metro Phoenix city of Glendale, a disgruntled young man decided he’d “had enough of being bullied” and went to the large Westgate entertainment district, equipped with firepower. He used that firepower to disrupt the lives of 3 victims, all of whom have survived, and of countless other frightened diners and shoppers. He told police that he was InCel- an involuntary celibate.

In 2014, a similarly “aggrieved” individual went on an even deadlier rampage, in Isla Vista, CA, near Santa Barbara. That person’s plaint was the same-He felt he was forced to be celibate, because of snobby women. My own reaction to this, was that his complaint was balderdash-prompting one of his apologists to scold me and say that I should clean up my own backyard.

Life has shown that I did have some self-work to do, though not what the critic assumed. It has been nearly four decades, since I wallowed in self-pity, about my status in the dating field. Never once, though, did it occur to me that FORCE was the answer-to any social difficulty. Time brought Penny, along with my improved self-concept, greater respect for women as human beings and a realistic ethic , regarding friendships of all sorts. Our marriage lasted until her passing, and would still be extant, had she lived.

I happen to believe in celibacy, outside of marriage, so the concept that one is saddled with it, in an involuntary manner, does not wash, in my view. There will need, for a long time to come, be cause for parents to pay close attention to how their adolescent-and young adult-children are faring socially. There will need, for a long time to come, for society (police, social workers, teachers, weapons safety advocates and groups) to notice those who might be loners, misfits and mentally unstable. Those people do not need access to weapons, and to argue otherwise is a perversion of the right to bear arms.

People, both men and women, should retain the freedom of choice-in any relationship.

Altogether Fitting and Proper

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May 20, 2020-

I woke today, feeling the power that comes with a day which may be written as 05-20-20, and which is the midpoint of the twentieth week of 2020.  Being Wednesday, I found myself in two consecutive Zoom calls, for two different reasons, this afternoon.

After those were finished, it was time for a regenerative cat nap-THEN came the urge to finally take the first of four directional walks.  So, on went the sneakers, sunglasses and ballcap-and east I went.

Today was the last of a series of mild, rather breezy days, so walking was a veritable pleasure.  My eastward route took me as far as the still-shuttered Planet Fitness franchise, in a shopping center called Frontier Village.  This was a 1 1/2 mile-one-way jaunt, and relatively easy.

The way back led me along the edge of Prescott VA Cemetery, resting place of many military veterans, and a place where I usually join a large group of volunteers, placing American flags at gravesites, on Memorial Day weekend.  I’ve heard nothing about that, this year, so am thinking it’s another casualty of COVID19.  I stopped and read Abraham Lincoln’s “Address at Gettysburg Memorial Cemetery”, thinking about what, today, is “altogether fitting and proper”.

There are three things that come immediately to mind:

  1.  Treat all citizens, especially those with whom one disagrees, as worthy of respect.

2.  Honour those who may need us to make small adjustments in our daily conduct- i.e. people who might be immunocompromised, and need those around them, in public places, to wear face masks.

3.  Continue thinking for self-and that means THINKING, not following the loudest voices in the room, on the Internet or in the streets.

These are altogether fitting and proper, nearly 157 years after our nation’s 16th President dedicated a military cemetery, receiving the remains of those who fought in one of our nation’s bloodiest, and most divisive, conflicts.

Then and Now-The May Version

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May 19, 2020-

Change is a constant, even if some hectoring voice uses that bromide as his mantra.  It occurs to me that there was a different me, sometime ago, which is either fading or has disappeared.

Time was, when I was concerned with how people thought of me, how they looked at me, whether I’d be accepted.  Now, I see others as fellow travelers, even if they go on a path that’s different from mine.  We will all end up at the same place; we’ll just be asked different questions, by the Gatekeeper.  I accept myself, and how I look, so it doesn’t matter how others find my appearance. Besides, more and more people are far younger than I am, so they will most likely just see an old man.  As for acceptance-that starts with self-and that horse came back into the barn, a long time ago.

Then, I tended to patronize people-kids, women, old folks.  I thought it the best road to being regarded as “just folks”.  A rough old soldier called me out on the matter, and I began the long road to seeing humans as eyeball-to-eyeball.  I had made a lot of progress, in terms of being genuine, by 2005. Then, my beloved began to really go into decline and I put my self-care, and development, on hold.  After she left, it took three solid years of struggle, some travel and a fair number of mistakes, whilst on the road, to reach my equilibrium again.

Now, it’s 2020-and getting closer to mid-year.  How am I doing?  I’m good, in place, and once the curtain gets lifted, and I am cleared to be on the road again, I probably will hang on around here- to see how the school situation is shaking out, and if I am needed there.  I will also be even more focused, whether at home or on the road, than I was even last year.  There is a five-dimension sense that has taken over my consciousness.  It’ll be a most astonishing seven months ahead, and even more astonishing afterward.

What is Cherished?

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May 18, 2020-

This post is inspired by Eugenia’s series of prompts: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/60360547/posts/2711101856

I cherish the actions of the heart, above all.

Those efforts that do not seek to elevate one above all others,

but which seek to raise all boats.

I cherish family,

both near biological.

and far extended,

the family of the bloodline

and that of the heart.

I cherish childhood,

that which is given us,

in the first two decades,

or so, of life,

and that which is retained

in spirit, even as the body

and mind take on the

trappings of age and maturity.

I cherish the beauty that

surrounds us,

both the glimmerings

of nature, by day and by night,

and the images conjured

by the mind.

Let all be adored,

which keeps us

and propels us forward.

Little Stuff

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May 16, 2020-

As I have thrown some very lengthy “shares” on my other social medium, I will keep this brief and just mention a few things that come to mind, as the night progresses.

I haven’t seen the Moon, in its waning phase, this month.  Turns out, it rises at 2 a.m. and sets when it’s mid-afternoon.  I do, however, go outside and meditate under the stars, before calling it a night.

My computer desk is something of an altar.  Penny appears in three photos. My singing bowl is right in front of me.  A family heirloom Buddha, which my father-in-law brought back from Paris, in 1945, sits atop the mantle, next to a hand-carved wooden soldier, modeled after the ones in Nutcracker Suite.   A photo of ‘Abdu’l-Baha and one of our son bookend the mantle.

I planted my four vegetables, this afternoon, adding  granulated organic food scraps to the soil and spraying animal repellent around the area.  Javelina tend to come in the yard, during the night, so I want to get them accustomed to not liking the scent of the yard.

Now, it’s time to change course and say goodnight to the laptop.  Books have their turn, in my wind-down.

 

Wednesday, the Thirteenth

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May 13, 2020-

The day began with rough energy.  I reflected that negativity is often associated with Friday the 13th.  I have been, and remain, determined to not let negativity dominate my day-even on days when I have been dismissed from a position or facing the loss of a loved one.

I read the obituary of a childhood friend- the closest personal connection I have, thus far, to Coronavirusdisease2019.  A short time later, when I was preparing to do a routine task, the most basic step momentarily escaped me. I felt my friend’s energy and the step came to my consciousness.

By mid-morning, the negativity had passed.  I went to visit some friends who have a restaurant, in a small shopping center, on the edge of town.  They were on their third day back, after staying closed for sixty days.  They are very much people of the soil, of the ranch.  Thus, what you see is what you get-and no apologies.  I’ve always had an open heart for those who speak their own truth-not aimed AT others, in an ad hominem manner, but in an inclusive, welcoming fashion.  I always have a seat at their counter.

This evening, the draw has been to a Baha’i-oriented spiritual discussion, on Baha’u’llah’s meditiative work, The Seven Valleys and The Four Valleys.  I write this, whilst listening to a recording of a Zoom call that I missed early this afternoon.  It is from a gatheriong called Gaia Calling.  The meditation and the insights gained here are reinforcing various other spiritual sites, to which I’ve been drawn, especially during this time of widespread turmoil.

The moderator spoke of a “dance” between linear time (the Earth time, in which we operate) and organic time (the spiritual movement that has always been in play).  I feel this happening more now, than I ever have.  On “good” days and on “bad”, my feeling these days is far closer to natural rhythms, to Earth, to the Universe, to the Divine.

Vortices

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May 9, 2020-

Snow descended on a swath of the Northeast,

and Atlantic Canada, early this morning.

It was blamed on the Arctic Vortex,

which usually rears its head

and roars, in the dead of winter.

We have our own vortices,

here in the Southwest.

They bring concentrations

of energy and uplifts in awareness,

to those in tune with them.

The snow will have disappeared,

from many places,

by Noon, on Mother’s Day.

The changes brought by

increased awareness,

will cause ignorance

and shopworn habits

to disappear.

May there be purity,

from both kinds

of vortices.