Commitment

7

April 17, 2017, Prescott-

I read one of those Facebook things, where you put in name and birthday, and an algorithm produces a canned statement, about How It Is With You, regarding a certain aspect of life.  This one was about relationships.

The algorithm told me that I was lovable, but “commitment-averse”.  I’ve heard that from several people, over the past few years.  Without exception, they’ve had their own agendas, and I am “Other People’s Agendas- averse”, to be sure.  I like to help, live to help, but in my own space and at my own pace.

I am not commitment-averse.  Penny had my full commitment and attention, especially when she needed me most.  I am a father-for-life, and the big guy knows it.  if he were in harm’s way, I’d drop everything and get over there.  I am a son-for-life, and Mom knows it.  She is fiercely independent, and that’s always a good thing.  If things change for her, I’d drop everything and get over there.  I am a sibling, cousin, nephew and uncle for life, and the family knows it.  We are little islands but, yeah, if it comes to it, you get the point.  I am, regardless of where my spirit takes me, a friend-for-life.  It’s gotten me through every tough spot in which I’ve ever found myself, including those tough places where my grief got me, a few years back.

I am not commitment-averse.  Recently, I walked into a small cafe, and was greeted by a soul who, I could testify on a stack of Scriptures, is one of those whom I’ve known forever.  Penny was, and is, such a soul.  Five good friends elsewhere, two males and three females, are likewise.  I’m convinced that, in time of a needful in-gathering, we would find ourselves in the same geographic place.  In fact, one such good friend is moving to a place close by, very shortly.  The thing about those of us who were together, in God-knows-what sort of Soul Existence, is that we understand one another, preternaturally, even supernaturally, and it goes beyond that which we know as empathy.

I will, over time, reconnect with “K”, as I have with the others. Our friendship on this plane will follow whatever course is in store. There are, no doubt, more such souls out there, and we will find one another, likewise towards whatever end the Universe has in mind.  Well, that’s it for now, with what an empathic friend here calls “the hoo-hoo stuff”.

My commitments for today are to continue clearing the backyard, get the clothes laundered and write another post, this evening, on the Atlantic Coast.

 

 

He Bids Us All To Arise

8

April 16, 2017, Prescott-

Today, nearly a billion people, around the world, commemorated the Resurrection of Jesus the Christ.  Many combine the sacred with the whimsical, filling baskets with candy of all sorts, making Easter the second most popular candy-eating holiday, after Halloween.  Others leave out the sacred, altogether, thus making Easter little different from the Feast of All Hallows.

Christ overlooked the faults of others, save the Pharisees, whom He scolded and the merchants in the Temple, whom He chastised more forcefully.  He was far kinder to those who committed indiscretions of the heart.

The lesson I get from this, and from His very resurrection, is that the human spirit is capable of enormous resilience.  We fall down and hurt others, either physically or emotionally, yet some of these same people could very well return to at least a modicum of friendship, over time, if we ourselves recover our moral bearings.

Christ was not only saving us, by His sacrifice.  He was also showing us, how we might save ourselves, albeit by less supreme means.  Each of us can arise, in our own way, through adhering to the Golden Rule and by making amends, for wrongs that we have done to others.

As a Baha’i, I revere Christ as Messenger of God and Supreme Teacher.  Accordingly, I know that it’s my bounden duty to serve others, both to make amends for what I’ve done wrong in this life, and out of love for them.  Love is the basis for everything the Messengers of God, from Adam to Baha’u’llah, have taught us, over the millennia. Yesterday, I had the bounty of visiting several people, at the Native American Baha’i Institute of Learning (at Houck,AZ) , in the Hopi village of Polacca and in the small Verde Valley town of Rimrock, where a longtime friend is in the fight of his life, against a crippling disease.  What I went to impart, was a very simple message:  Your life matters.

Christ said this, repeatedly, 2000 years ago. Baha’u’llah said this, repeatedly, 164 years ago.  Both gave us the admonition to say this to one another.  Both gave us the bidding to arise, to lift ourselves, and one another, out of despair and trouble.  That is the message I get from Easter.

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Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part XXI: Near and Far

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April 8, 2017, Prescott-

I went to the Farmers’ Market, this morning, and attended a Red Cross Volunteer Appreciation Luncheon.  Then, I went back to Home Base and cleared the first of nineteen sections of a weed-filled back yard.  I am old school, when it comes to such things.  Herbicide and gasoline-operated weed whackers don’t appeal to me.  Pulling weeds up by the roots is tedious, but it has no side effects.  I also won’t wreck the beautiful tulips that are gracing the yard.

I chose to stay in, this evening, just for the sake of it.  In the process, I find myself wanting to note the things that are dear to my heart about each region of the United States- at least the contiguous area, with which I am most familiar.

So, I love the Southwest for its lush deserts, its canyons and their limitless surprises, mountains that rise like sky islands, the wildlife that seems so furtive and yet so likely to pop out of hiding, at a moment’s notice.  Its superlatives are the Grand Canyon, Nevada’s Valley of Fire and Cathedral Gorge, Mesa Verde, Chaco Canyon and Kartchner Caverns.  Its most sublime surprises are Canyon de Chelly, Slide Rock,  Thumb Butte, Picacho Peak, Quitobaquito, White Sands and Great Sand Dunes.  The revelations are the best of all:  Superior, AZ; Mancos, CO; Pioche, NV; Truth or Consequences and Chama, NM; Loa, UT.   Prescott will always feel like home, and so will Tucson, Flagstaff, Hopi, Dinetah, Reno-Carson City, the Front Range and Superior.

California is in several classes by itself.  The sunny (until this year) south; the interchangeable mountains and deserts of the east; the intense vegetation of the north.  It has been a home away from Home Base, for as long as I’ve lived in Arizona.  Its superlatives are Yosemite, Mount Shasta, the Coastal Redwoods, frenetic Los Angeles and exquisite San Francisco.  San Diego and Julian will always be welcoming, family places. Coastal Orange County, Palos Verdes, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, Point Reyes and Mount Lassen define inspirational.  There is no such thing as a boring Spanish colonial mission.  Revelatory, to me, are little towns like Banning, Brawley, Ojai, Willits, Lomita, Woodfords and Yreka.

The  Pacific Northwest defines majesty.  Nothing outdoes the Olympic Peninsula, the Oregon Coast, Rogue River Gorge, the North Cascades or the canyons carved by the Snake and Columbia Rivers.  Portland and Seattle exude creativity and cultural diversity.  The islands of Puget Sound and the Straits abound with familial small communities:  Anacortes and Friday Harbor stand out, in my memory.  Wenatchee, Toppenish, Leavenworth, Spokane, The Dalles, Bend, Culver, Ashland, Pullman, Lewiston and Moscow all took me under their wings, and  remain every bit  blessed in my heart.  The most surprising scenes were at Smith Rock, at the bridge outside Culver, at the alkaline lake for which Lakeview is named, on the boulder strewn beaches at Bandon and Kalaloch.

I am rambling, so there will be parts two and three to this elegy.

Mocoa, Mosul, Memphis

7

April 4, 2017, Prescott- 

Three rivers converged,

burying some bodies,

and taking others into the maw

of the Amazon Basin.

Five nations’ armies converge,

blasting some innocents to smithereens,

sending others into the maw

of  pseudo-Islamic madness.

Four men converged,

in a sultry  neighbourhood.

One killed another,

sending America into the maw

of an outpouring of grief,

which the nation has yet to overcome.

 

To Account

4

March 29, 2017, Prescott-

(“Bring thyself to account each day, ere thou art summoned to a reckoning…”

Baha’u’llah gives His followers this instruction, not as any sort of threat,

but as sage advice to keep our social and spiritual affairs in order,

as one does with financial affairs.)

I have completed today’s self-accounting.

There were three instances, in which I feel I could have done much better.

There will be a chance to do so, tomorrow and in days to come,

as the same people will present themselves, over the next two months.

Am I still worthy of some new friendships?

So far, yes, and my personal growth needs to continue, in that regard.

Did I ignore the one detractor who insulted me, this noon?

Yes, because she was speaking more out of her own pain,

than anything to do with me, whom she had never met until today.

Good things continue to happen.

Our study circle covered some intense spiritual ground.

One of my boys, who lacked self-control, is making a very strong effort

at maintaining it, these past two days.

His struggle is real.

I met another sweet, loving person, this evening.

Such friends make any trials seem like trifles.

A long absent cousin contacted me,

with a plea for me to go back East, in July.

Will see where the guidance takes me,

on that matter, but I have had a little voice

say “Head east, not northwest”, not long ago.

So, the ledger is balanced.

 

 

Tiny Seed

8

March 26, 2017, Prescott-

I am starting, just starting, to emerge

from a heavy coat,

after several false springs.

My last flowering,

which itself went to seed,

six years ago,

was followed by

pollen-blowing winds.

Tests came,

and the sacred dust settled,

across the middle

and to the south

of this continent,

in the west of Europe,

to our northwest

and Alaska.

I have felt a warm sun,

and plentiful water,

in each place, where my pollen dust has landed.

The seedling is poking through, yet again,

in a new spring.

Much of the pollen,

has stuck, right here,

yet there is a rich amount

that is settling in a place,

one hundred fifty miles or so,

to our southeast.

Friendly gardeners are tending me,

everywhere I feel.

There is wonderment, though,

as to where I will take root,

in this new spring.

 

Ageless

6

March 19, 2017, Prescott-

My eldest, and last surviving, paternal uncle has joined his parents, seven of his ten siblings, his soul mate and his daughter, in the Eternal Realm.

I remember the paper airplanes,

for which you won an award,

which you said you needed,

like a hole in the head.

More to your satisfaction,

were the doll houses,

gifts to your own granddaughter,

and to several grandnieces.

They taught the girls to imagine,

to appreciate small detail,

and to know that they were

deeply cherished in a good man’s heart.

The family histories,

so complete, and so informative,

came to us at a time

when too many of your siblings,

and their contemporaries around us,

were winging their flights homeward.

You made your way to Colorado,

and the comfort of your grandchildren,

as a solace for the loss of your beloved Jean.

It was a fine thing to see you there,

in Longmont, and,

later,in Loveland.

It was a blessing,

to see how well

the young folks,

who have dedicated themselves

to the care of their most senior elders,

took you into their hearts,

as you took them into yours.

Farewell, Uncle George,

and may your soul find its rest.

I know my Dad is happy to see you,

as are Grampy, Nana ,

all my beloved paternal aunts, uncles

and Cousin Linda.

The ageless send us

a message of joy,

to soothe our grief.

Blessed Eternity

 

Thinking, Feeling, and Knowing

11

March 18, 2017, Prescott-  Let’s take a break from the posting of travel photos, as I sense there is ennui setting in, among my readers here.

All my life, I’ve been through a dichotomy between thinking, usually based on incomplete information and feeling, based on my emotions of the moment.

I came upon the third component of personal reality, knowing, in the intuitive sense, not the cognitive meaning, a few years into my time as a Baha’i.  The fact that I had given up a rather intense devotion to alcoholic beverages, at the same time, also helped.

These days, I put feeling and knowing into use, before thinking.  It’s helped avoid a lot of the pitfalls, into which I have placed myself over the years, from being repeated.

In Fall, 1980, I felt that I was ready to meet a special person.  When I met Penny, a month later, I knew that special person would be in my life, for a very long time, and would be present in my being, forever.

 

In Winter, 2011, when she left this world, I entered a period, of about 2 1/2 years, in which I felt that a person who resembled Penny, either in countenance or in blithe spirit, would be my solace. I knew, though, in the end, that  this fabrication was doing me no good, and that I had to go through the hard work of getting myself settled, of becoming in tune with who I was, in my own space.

These days, I feel another special presence in my life.  I don’t know much about this person, yet, so I can’t say I am certain, as to how things will pan out.  I do know, cognitively, that she lives on the other side of Arizona.  I know, intuitively, that I regarded her as a dear friend,  as soon as we met, a few days ago, and that I will let that friendship go where it will.  I am under no illusions; yet, it seems like I’ve known her for a very long time.

The writer and philosopher, Shakti Gawain, talks of her varied relationships, at all levels.  She makes the interesting point that one can know, intuitively, when a person is part of one’s soul family.  I have many such brothers, sisters, children, and extended family.  Each is of particular  value and there will be many others; of this, I’m certain.  Let’s see where the path leads.

 

 

Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part XV: Free Souls Abound

2

March 13, 2017, Oak Flat, AZ-

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES The young couple were a bit taken aback, as I returned to the campsite, where my tent was set up.  They hushed their small, annoyed dog, as I explained I had been at the campsite for a while and had gone to town for dinner.  As they were car-camping, and the campground is free, we were all fine with each other’s presence.  Besides, after some banter, I left them alone, and was content to watch the stars and think loving thoughts. The campground reflected those back.

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Before all this, as there were about 45 minutes until sundown, I took a stroll along an easy trail that led south and west from the campground.  A free spirit, whose own goal was explore all the National Forests west of the Mississippi, had pointed me in the direction of a spring, which he said was a good two hours’ hike from here.  I took the stone path out of the campground and shortly found remnants of another of General Stoneman’s outposts.

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Rhyolite and obsidian abound, in this part of Arizona, as you will see further in “Devils Canyon” (I prefer the name, Queen Creek Gorge, but to each their own.)

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Stone walls were built to last, in the 1870’s.

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I like to pay respects at  memorials to the local departed, wherever I go.  This cross honours the wife of an Oak Flat native.

The campground is of further interest to me, because there is a controversy over just how extensively a planned underground copper mine will be allowed to run, underneath this immediate area.  There are concerns about depleting the water table and about creating a giant sinkhole, under the current campground.  There is some debate, even among Native Americans, as to the sacredness of the site to the Apache Nation.  Several protesters have set up a camp, within the campground, featuring traditional Apache dwellings, called wikieup.  The environmental and archaeological concerns are valid, as is the need for work, among the residents of Superior and outlying areas.  I would probably favour a scaled back mining enterprise, with careful attention to the water table and to honouring any burial sites that may be found.

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Always Regal

4

March 8, 2017, Prescott- 
Some thoughts on the occasion of International Women’s Day:

Women, at least from what I can see, want what men want-

Respect, dignity, appreciation, the right to strive, the right to achieve, the chance to succeed, avoidance of typecasting.

I would not be anywhere near the man I am, were it not for Mother’s diligence in her job.

I would be far lesser a person, had it not been for my wife’s undying love and encouragement.

I would not be as loyal a friend, had my sister not been the true and loyal friend she has been, for 64 years.

My world would be bleaker, without many female friends, ranging in age from ten to eighty.

Much is still made of beauty- but it is the kind of beauty radiating from within, that sustains any person, in perpetuity.

Comely women need to be viewed as humans, with the same needs and wants as anyone else, or the viewer is missing a variety of points.

When a task requiring many hands presents itself, a full crew of both genders is the most productive.

I shudder at a world, in which women are barred from exercising their talents and faculties.

Blessed International Women’s Day!