April 5, 2020-
A nonet, if you will:
The murmur of the crowd gathered strength
The tall, gentle man walked gamely
His route was roofed by palms
Fronds touched His fair head
Joy was the crowd’s
He was there!
Teacher
Christ
A nonet begins with a line of nine syllables, losing a syllable in each subsequent line, and finishing with one syllable. As today is Palm Sunday, this is a gift for my Christian family and friends
April 4, 2020-
Today, the fourth day of the fourth month, is also seen by numerologists and astrologers as Universal Year 4. This is figured by adding the digits of the year: 2+0+2+0= 4. It is considered a year of feminine power, as multiples of two reflect feminine energy, whilst odd-numbered years reflect masculine energy.
I tend to have a balance of the two, having been raised by parents whose power was balanced. Many, both male and female, who were raised in an imbalance-usually patriarchic , have judged me as weak or even effeminate, as I have leaned away from aggression-most of the time, in my earlier days, and always, of late.
Feminine energy, as most of my readers know, is far from weak. I was raised by a lioness, who nonetheless knew how to nurture, as well how to exact obedience. My father also showed a good balance of masculine and feminine, in his discipline. So, in my maturity, I chose a career that stressed being both supportive and showing my charges the value of boundaries. The vast majority of “my kids” have grown to be mature, grounded and productive citizens, even those who have hard lives.
Now, in late middle age, I find myself cheering the arrival of a more balanced culture. These Twenties are bound to be rough for many, who hang on to shopworn ways of looking at and doing things. This year has already dragged many through the ringer, and the rest of us just taking one day at a time. I am still ready to do what is needed to bring in the real sunshine, knowing that the love of the aging is going to be needed, as those of the Rising Generations: Younger Gen X, Millennials, Generation Z and the Alpha Generation, will be doing the heavy lifting.
Each day is bringing with it, full power-the power each of us needs to effect transition- our own individual, that of the nations and of the planet. Rise with the Sun, live your day fully and rest well at night. We are all needed, in our way.
April 3, 2020-
In everyone’s life, I think, there are those human phenotypes who one continuously encounters, over and over, especially fulfilling certain roles in the persons’ life. I reflected today, on those who have done so, in my life. Although, they don’t know one another and have appeared at different points in my life, they are phenotypically similar.
My mentors and advocates have, for the most part, been either African-American men, in late middle age, with a profound reservoir of spiritual knowledge, or women who are slender, brunette and of medium height, likewise having a wealth of spiritual acumen. There is one such man among my friends, at this stage of my life, an astrologist with keen intuition.
This second was true of my mother, yet without my seeking any surrogate, such women have shown up randomly, in my life, since I left home in 1974. There are several such people in my life, right now, most notably my primary human spiritual guide, and my best friend. I do not see any of them as mother figures.
I have frequently encountered people, who seem to have materialized out of nowhere, and after a brief, pleasant exchange, they disappear almost as quickly. These are, with one exception, also brunette women, of medium height, who are quite a bit younger than those mentioned above. They seem to have a strong spirituality and have mainly appeared to me when I’ve been hiking. The one exception resembled my late wife, except she was gaunt in appearance and also appeared to me out of nowhere, when I was hiking in the high desert, some years back.
Finally, among men and boys, I always seem to encounter those with a snarky, fun-loving demeanour, usually when I need to get out of my introvert shell. They set me straight, though not in a mean way.
Of course, my door is wide open for all manner of people, regardless of phenotype. Those mentioned above just seem to be who the Universe has guided my way or me to theirs.
April 1, 2020-
The past month has been a time of highs and lows, for me,as for many others. While I am gravely concerned with the rampage of Coronavirusdisease 2019, the lows did not stem primarily from the pandemic. They were more psychic in nature, as several who claimed to be in tune with an elevated state of mind revealed themselves, especially these past few days, to be as hobbled with political intrigue and conspiracy theory, as the most troubled among my friends.
Trust comes hard for me, for reasons too varied to describe in this post. I have long sought after those who have a clear view of the Universe as a whole, and of the essentially spiritual nature of humans. Baha’u’llah, His Teachings and the Faith being built in His Name have given me that comfort. I likewise feel close to those who understand and embrace the essential Teachings of Christ, Moses, Mohammad, Gautama Siddhartha, Krishna and of the Spirit Guides of ages even further back than our present historical records can fathom.
There have been those who claim knowledge of deeper spiritual truths, but my trust in them has been broken by their fallback into addiction, profanity, a judgmental stance towards others and a claim of superiority. I do not judge them in kind, but neither can I place my trust in their pronouncements.
Thankfully, those coming from a Higher Realm give all the assurance that I need, in order to press on with what their messages tell me I must do- Stay in place and serve humanity now, and work farther afield, when the crises afflicting us at present are abated.
March 31, 2020-
I made a pledge to myself, sometime back.
I will ever support sincere efforts to bring
people together.
I will ever oppose tyranny, obfuscation
and gaslighting,
regardless of their premise.
I will ever support the dignity
of the individual.
I will ever oppose bullying,
whisper campaigns and
“cleansing” of whole
ethnicities, nations,
denominations.
I will ever work to
safeguard the rights
of children and youth.
I will ever oppose those
who deny our young
a voice in their own affairs,
or worse yet,
ignore their needs
for education,
character building
and affirmation.
I will work to
help expand
consciousness.
I will oppose
mindlessness.
March 30, 2020-
What has changed?
What has been blown away,
by the winds?
What has cracked and fallen,
in the tremors of this
lugubrious season?
Greed is blowing away,
though it is grasping
at branches,
and trying to
deflect our attention.
Pride is collapsing,
being confronted
by a chastening.
Lust is becoming
irrelevant,
in the stirred dust,
of a cosmic haboob.
The selfish cannot
ignore the cries of
babies,
of their grandparents,
of those who can’t move.
on their own.
Those who stand on
ceremony,
are finding
that ladder
is
toppling.
Bedrock, alone,
will keep us upright.
March 29, 2020-
I began serious application of Coronavirus Disease 19 response planning, on Leap Day, February 29. In the past thirty days, these have happened:
Work stopped, on March 6, at 3 p.m. Part of that was Spring Break, but my employer stopped assigning people on March 11. I got some pay, this past Friday.
I said “see you soon” to friends who have since closed their businesses, moved away from college dorms, stopped playing gigs in local clubs and are generally sequestered.
Prayed, incessantly.
Learned a lot about navigating Zoom and opened an account with that medium. Hosted my first meeting on it, today.
Have been catching up with reading, journaling and, yes, Netflix.
Have made plans for “journeys in place”-studying various topics.
Kept in touch with people across the planet, to see how things are going.
Have done take-out orders, just so some support is going their way. Same with food boxes from the Farmers Market and groceries for a pop-up food bank at the Toyota dealership.
It’s standard stuff, and part of being a member of society. Would do it all over again, no questions asked.
Brighter days are ahead.
March 28, 2020-
Somehow, in this seeming twilight,
there is a shimmering
in the background,
in the soft rising
of the gloaming’s opposite.
Somehow, I was in a parallel state,
most of last night,
living through a working-out
of several people’s conflicts.
I was a mediator,
there were people long-gone,
and people still extant.
We got through the worst.
Somehow, the night passed
in sleep,
for as dawn came,
I was approached,
by a person of
intense, palpable beauty.
Smiling deeply,
with all her being,
she bid me awaken.
She was lying in a lush field of flowers.
I was in my own comfortable bed.
She had been frolicking with some friends.
I had been exercising my healing energy.
I arose, and fulfilled my pledges for the day.
March 26, 2020-
The deathly ill man departed today,
leaving behind a world in chaos.
He’d done his share, though,
and it was high time for him
to move on.
There was nothing he was going to do,
to hinder Coronavirus Disease 2019.
He was ill,
long before the pandemic,
and it never got around to infecting him.
There wasn’t much more he could do,
to help his family.
Today was the day.
I’ve been around,
for another person’s departure.
Nine years and twenty-one days ago,
she was called home.
It’s been written,
that in the last days,
the living will envy the dead.
I don’t know as we’ve reached that point yet.
I know I haven’t.
Those who have transitioned,
have earned their flight.
I, like Robert Frost,
“have promises to keep
and miles to go,
before I sleep.”
March 25, 2020-
(This is a short story which came to me, this evening, as I was in a meditation group.)
Katrin was playing in her room, with Bradley Bear and Kimmy Koala. She had just sat her animals in the little chairs, and was preparing to play teacher, when she heard a bump in the family room next to hers. She told the “children” to stay quiet, and went to check out what had happened. Mommy was getting stressed, with new baby coming in three more months, and Kat did not want her mother to fall down and have an accident.
She saw the breeze rustling the curtain-an odd sight, given it was early April, and Mommy never opened the window much before the first of May. Kat went towards the window and was startled to see a pair of shoes behind the curtain. Although she was only four years old, Katrin Leigh Osterman was the epitome of boldness, as her grandmother put it. She went slowly, but confidently, towards the curtain and pulled it back.
There, looking unusually fearful, was a big man. He reminded Katrin of the main character in a show that she watched with Mommy, called “Reading Rainbow”. She asked, “Mister, what are you doing, standing behind our curtain? Are you okay?” The man stared, still fearful, at the little girl. Then, he spoke: “I am very hungry. I have not eaten as much as a crust of bread , in almost five days. I have been hiding, since I got off a small plane. I watched your family and saw they seem friendly-but I could not be certain. So, I had to sneak into the house first.”
“What’s your name, Mister?”, Katrin whispered, feeling sad at his story.
“I am Adibe Junius.”, replied the man. ” My family name comes first, then my given name, so please call me Junius.”
“I am glad to meet you, Junius. My name is Katrin”, said the girl, still whispering. Kat knew that Mother would be a bit scared of this stranger in her house, but Junius seemed tired, weak and more than a bit scared, himself. She asked him to sit in a chair and said she would get him something to drink. Then, she went to the kitchen, where her mother was resting in a comfy chair.
“Mommy, I have something to show you, in the family room.”, Kat said, in her Big Girl voice. She then stepped on a footstool and got a glass of water from the refrigerator spigot. ” Pleas come with me.”
Brittany got up, in a world-weary manner, wondering what her bright and adventurous offspring was up to now, carrying a glass of water to the back of the house. Was she going to “teach” the stuffed animals how to drink without spilling?
Junius looked up at the five-foot, five inch cinnamon-coloured woman, who gasped at seeing a nearly six-foot tall man, sitting in her rocking chair. “KATRIN LEIGH ! What on Earth are you doing, letting a stranger into this house??”, the horrified woman scolded her daughter.
“Please, Madame”, the chastened man spoke up, “She did not let me in. I came in, through the window, as I am desperate.”
“DESPERATE? I’ll show you desperate! Since when do you just walk into someone’s home, without so much as a ‘By your leave? And who are you, anyway?”, Brittany snapped.
At this point, all of Junius’ hunger and thirst pangs left him, and he burst into tears. “I knew this would be a mistake. I left Congo in a flight of panic and have not eaten since I got off the plane, five days ago. All the smugglers gave any of us was a bowl of rice, with peanut sauce.”
“Congo? Smugglers? Peanut sauce?”, the flinty-eyed mother said, her eyes getting narrower by the second. “If this story gets any weirder, I’m about set to call Santa Claus.”
“It’s true”, Junius said, collecting himself , just a bit. “I fled the war back home, and a white man came up to me, in Kinshasa, and said he could get me to Cape Town, so long as I carried a crate of animals to a certain spot. I delivered the animals to a wet market, in the Chinese neighbourhood, then I was chased out of there by a gang of teenaged boys. They called me ‘dirtbag foreigner.’ Imagine that, I am an African, and they said I didn’t belong. So, I wandered around, until I came to this neighbourhood.”
Brittany was drawn in by this story, and he certainly wasn’t dressed like anyone from around Cape Town. “Give Mr. Junius the glass of water, Katrin”, she relented.
Junius sipped the water surprisingly carefully, and threw his head back, letting out a heavy sigh. “Do you know where I might get a clean bed, Madame, and a plate of food?”
Tears started to well up in Brittany’s eyes. “I can get you to our church. The pastor will let you clean up, help you get some fresh attire and see that you are fed. He can do this a lot easier than we can, and he will put you to dignified work.”
Ten minutes later, Brittany Osterman had spoken to Reverend Stenbeek, who readily agreed to take Junius in, provided he followed the church house rules. Junius walked with the two ladies to the rector’s house, and was warmly greeted by the Dutch Reformed Church pastor and his wife. “Junius, you stumbled upon the nicest people in this parish,” Leonidas Stenbeek proclaimed, “and you couldn’t have been greeted by anyone kinder than our Lady Katrin!”
“Please put your bag in the first bedroom, then go and shower yourself. ” Leo said, and then to his smiling wife, ” Margrit, I shall grill some prawns, in our guest’s honour! Please prepare him some porridge, for when he gets showered and dressed. Then, we shall all dine together.” “Yes, that we must. It’s a great day to welcome one of our brothers,” the sturdy pastor’s wife announced, “Brittany, do sit and rest. Katrin, please help me peel some carrots.”
The proud little girl carefully peeled and sliced seven carrots, one for her and two for each of the Big People, just as Grandmother had taught her. It was a great day to welcome an uncle.
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