Sixty Six, for 66, Part III: People, Places and Things

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December 23, 2016, Prescott- School is out, for two weeks.  After helping to re-arrange the classroom, I took off from work, and decided to spend the afternoon and evening around town.  I will head for Phoenix, and the Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference, tomorrow morning, after a full night’s decompression.

Enough of that.  I wish to share 66 of my favourites- persons, places and things, in keeping with the Christmas spirit of positivity. So, in no particular order:

1. Mountain vistas

2. Posole

3.  Monty Python films

4.  The Olympic Peninsula

5.  Celtic Woman’s music

6. Fried clams

7.  The Harry Potter series (films and books)

8.  Baha’u’llah’s teachings

9.  The harbour at Vannes, Brittany

10. The presence of children

11.  Do Terra Essential Oils

12.  Honesty

13.  Pizza

14.  My biological family-wherever they are

15.  The United States Constitution

16.  Sweet potato pie

17.  Manitou Springs, Colorado

18.  Bears

19.  ‘Abdu’l-Baha

20.  Mint chip ice cream

21.  My Reno family

22. The Grand Canyon

23.  The Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

24.  Trustworthiness

25.  Equity for women and girls

26.  San Diego

27.  The Fisher King

28.  Forthrightness

29.  Jennifer Lawrence, as an actress

30.  Denzel Washington, as an actor

31.   Gatherings at Prescott’s Courthouse Square

32. Justice

33. My mother’s love

34.  Memories of my wife

35.  Sharp cheddar cheese

36.  The Field Museum, Chicago

37.  My Tampa Bay family

38.  Jeju, South Korea

39.  Les Miserables

40.  The Sonoran Desert

41.  My son’s devotion

42.  Crispy bacon

43. Dogs

44. Thumb Butte, Prescott

45.  A job well done

46. Crystal Cove Beach, CA

47.  A Path With Heart

48.  Caramel

49.  Bluegrass music

50.  The Lord of the Rings 

51.  Consistency

52.  Sedona, AZ

53.  Hopi culture

54.  Whales

55.  Persistence in faith

56.  Boulder, CO

57.  Pumpernickel bread

58.  My southwest Missouri family

59.  Lemurs

60.  The Holy Bible

61.  Gyros

62.  Heidelberg

63.  Navajo culture

64.  Reuben sandwiches

65. Hot coffee

66. Southeast Alaska

There are so many more that I love, but I sense the reader’s flagging attention. 🙂

 

 

Sixty-Six, for 66, Part II: Solstices, Hot and Cold

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December 21, 2016, Prescott-  So, from today, our days will be getting ever  so slightly longer, with minute temperature changes a-coming, until June 21.  One of the kids asked about the Southern Hemisphere, and learned that the days in Australia,  most of South America and much of Africa, will now be getting shorter, until that same date, next year.

I was in Sydney, once, in mid-September, 1971, and enjoyed a mild Spring week.  I even had a few hours at Bondi Beach, and didn’t need a sweater, on the hydrofoil to Taronga Park.  Our seasons aside, I felt rather at home “Down Under”, and will someday make my way again to those parts, and to many others, for the first time.

Enough of things about which I can do nothing.  I’d rather focus on the emotional solstices that we seem to experience.  A few questions for thought:  How often have friends, some of them trusted, turned aside for the least perceived slight?  How often have friendships turned, because of unshared convictions, or a feeling that perhaps one is no longer “useful”?  How often has a friend looked upon you as a surrogate, either for a lost loved one, or for the person him/herself?

I am comfortable in many climates, and in many situations.  It’s something to which I have gravitated, all my life.  My peculiar form of loyalty is to humanity, as a whole- so slights are forgiven, secrets are kept, and often forgotten, and people are valued, even when they forget to value themselves.  I guess this is a fine way of remaining adaptable to both earthly and human environments.

Human seasons continue to come and go.  May they become milder, in tone and sharper, in meaning.

Service

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December 19, 2016, Prescott- 

It was a calmer day, today.

We are now down to three-and-a-half days,

until time comes for a change of pace.

The look of surprise,

on the face of one of my supervisors,

when I said I had plans

other than working, gratis,

in the classroom,

over the Holidays,

was priceless.

There is more to life,

than one’s chosen daily routine.

There will be other things

on my plate,

from this coming Saturday,

until the second Sunday

of the new year.

Service is always front and center,

and it takes many forms.

 

A Progressive Rogue

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December 17, 2016, Prescott- 

I regard myself as a progressive.  There is only one way to real progress, though, in my view.  That is, for everyone to roll up their sleeves, get a given job done, and not be concerned with WHO ELSE is on the team, or in the relay line, so long as each person is carrying his or her weight.

I was on a team, this morning, whose collective task was to empty a storage yard of holiday wreaths.  We had about a thousand wreaths, most of which were in boxes of six.  Our team, of ten men and one woman, loaded the boxes and loose wreaths onto any of three trucks.  The trucks then brought their loads up to a staging area, in Prescott Memorial Cemetery, where others took the wreaths and placed them at each of a thousand or so gravesites, as part of Wreaths Across America, which honours our departed veterans, each Christmas season.  The team members did not stop for a minute, until the job was done.  Yes, it was cold(18-25 F), but so was shoveling snow, back in Saugus, Deerfield and Bangor, in my earlier days.  As the project director said, when we first gathered for assignments, the men and women whose graves we honoured did not flinch, for convenience’s sake.

I left the site, after our job was finished, and went over to another place, where 45 women, men and children were putting Christmas baskets and backpacks together, for homeless veterans and disadvantaged families.  My jobs were to sort donated groceries into food types, sort empty backpacks into piles, by colour and size, and then help fill twenty backpacks, with donated clothing, safety implements, toiletries and stationery. Once again, each of us worked with the others, across lines of ideology, gender and age, with no regard for differences.

These two events, no doubt, had their counterparts, by the thousands, across the country, and around the world.  We do them, as part of our community loves, on a daily basis, some of us more than others, but each according to his/her own talents and time allowances.

I  went to see “Rogue One:  A Star Wars Story”, last night, in our very comfortable, and inexpensive, Picture Show Theater.  The plot told of a young woman who grows up, a de facto orphan, learning the self-reliance and self-discipline that such a state of affairs imparts.  She trusts few, having been abandoned by her father, and betrayed by two competing groups of tyrants.  The rest is up to anyone, wishing to see the film, to find out for themselves.

I have had to go it alone, several times, in life and I’m sure this will happen again.  Being “rogue”, however, doesn’t mean that one should lose sight of the greater challenge facing humanity.  We are here, I believe, to care for one another with enormous passion.  My opus, gladly engaged, is caring for others with an ever-decreasing regard for my own comfort.  Yes, my “job”, in the eyes of family members, is to take care of myself, and I have that one down, pretty well.  That said, people and their chronic issues will not go away by themselves.  Progress means that the problems of society are to be remediated systematically, or not at all.  It means we do this together, and get over our differences.

Contentment

7

December 13, 2016, Prescott-

I will be sending my cards, and a few gifts, out on Thursday evening or Friday.  It will be cutting things close, but this year, I have chosen responsibility over sentiment. Besides, I need to buy a new printer.  Toys for Tots, NAU (my alma mater) and the young people of Streetlight will also need to wait until then.

I am happy, overall, with how my life has panned out, this year.  I am in a position of very intense public service, have a solid circle of friends, am reasonably respected in my community of residence, and have been able to maintain my health and vitality.

My son is holding his own, and getting ready for a great leap of faith and fortune, early next year.  My family, mostly in Massachusetts and Florida, with several scattered in other parts of the country, has been mostly healthy, this year.  I lost two aunts and a cousin,thus far, in the course of 2016. I also saluted an elder who inspired me greatly, as he headed to God’s Eternal Army.

My other love, Nature, rewarded me with a complete hiking circle around this beautiful city, and I have come to the final three segments of an amazing trek through the Sonoran Desert:  Dec. 26-27, and January 6, will find me in the southern sector of Black Canyon National Recreation Trail.  The 19 men who perished while fighting a wildfire in Yarnell, on June 30, 2013, have a memorial place, in Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park.  I will visit that place, on December 29, making my way along the 7-mile round trip trail that brings the visitor to the place where this unspeakable tragedy unfolded.

This year has brought tension, annoyance and suffering to many, perhaps more than in some years, and less so, for others.  I am grateful for having had relatively good fortune, while being prepared, should challenges come my way, in 2017.  A stable job, re-connecting with some friends who have been off my radar for a few years, and good, if too brief, visits with family, give a good backdrop for whatever might lie ahead.

 

Underestimated

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December 9, 2016, Prescott- Acker Night, a fundraising event for the arts, in downtown Prescott, took place this evening.  I went to my usual venues- Lifeways Bookstore, to hear a violin soloist, Whiskey Row Courtyard, to see a belly-dancing troupe (Mariachi background, rather than last year’s jazz accompaniment), Old Sage Books, to hear a delightful string ensemble, of five young women.

Before my little stroll, at a counter-side dinner, in Marino’s Mob Burger, I was joined by a woman who is a self-taught home remodeler and designer.  She is re-working a home in Granite Dells, which she considers her dream home, after a few years of trial and disappointment, largely due to key people in her life not  giving her due credit.  This seems to happen a lot to people, especially women, whom I have met over the past five years.

It happened to Penny, too, before we met- and she proved her doubters wrong, time and again.  My friends in this time of widowhood also keep their detractors off balance, through sheer constancy and determination.  Overcoming others’ low expectations is not so hard.  It is overcoming oneself that is the main barrier.

For my part, I am determined to see this academic year to a successful finish, in May, and see that each of our students is in the right environment for success. Not every child who is currently with us is in the optimum environment for meeting his needs, but this, too, becomes an opportunity to raise the bar of expectations, both with regard to the child and to the system.

I’ve sometimes underestimated myself, and had those low evaluations eagerly confirmed by those around, and above, me.  Those days are gone.  I hope they are gone for my friends, old and new, as well.

Healing

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December 8, 2016, Prescott-

The toughest month of the school year is almost half over.  Many people, adults and children alike, are eager for the Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa festivities.  Others are dreading the loneliness and tension that the same season brings.

I find it a delight, while keeping my heart open to the suffering.  We got the ball rolling on help for a hurting soul, this afternoon.  Another feels life is crushing- and for her, the only answer is “One step at a time.”  Neither is really alone, and both have a shot at getting through it.

Nothing is guaranteed, though, and things can and do fall apart, for reasons far from understood by yours truly.  I only know that taking the bitter with the sweet has been my saving grace, for many years now.  My son is finding that out, once again.  His healing has progressed another notch, and he is free to wear regular shoes again.  I hope gell pads are part of his foot gear, but he will make that choice and heal completely, regardless.

My own situation is such that, by taking each day as it comes, and learning from each thing that comes my way, I will first survive and then thrive.  Healing has taken five years, mistakes were made along the way, and people were hurt.  I am confident that some amends were made, and that, with my angel’s watchfulness, life will continue to be fruitful and full of growth opportunities for my soul.

As we continue to move towards our holidays, I wish all to find some solace and know that the light of love is shining, however distant it may seem.

 

Five Still Standing

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December 7, 2016, Prescott-

Seventy-five years have passed.

It was the second attack by foreign military

on U.S. soil, in our nation’s history.

A third would follow, fifty-seven years later.

By then, many had forgotten

the bloody sacrifice,

which again jarred our sense

of innocence.

This was as it had been before.

Those who remembered the White House burning,

were few and far between,

when the bodies fell

like cord-wood, at Antietam and Shiloh.

The Great War was witnessed by a few old soldiers,

who had served under Grant and Lee.

When the planes hit the Towers,

Pearl Harbor was a footnote,

in the rush to the House of Gifts.

How swiftly we deny,

and then forget.

Seventy-five years have gone by

and five still stand,

in remembrance of

that day,

when they were young

and no longer innocent.

(The five are the remaining survivors of the attack on the USS Arizona, at Pearl Harbor, in 1941.)

 

Contributing

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December 6, 2016,Prescott-

Thirty-six years ago, today,

on a cold and rainy night,

in Zuni,

she entered my life.

It was the night of house blessings,

yet only the keenest of shamans

would have any inkling,

of what a blessing was bestowed

that very night,

upon each of the homes

we would come

to occupy together,

beginning some eighteen months,

to the day, later.

She was always contributing:

to my well-being,

to the future success of our only child,

to the growth and stamina

of every community she entered.

I recall, on our first wedding anniversary,

a wayward child in a little mining town,

dutifully handing her, a stranger,

the needle he was using to jab

people around him.

She was always contributing,

to the collective life around her.

She contributes, still,

to my well-being,

from the Placeless,

from the Timeless.

 

 

 

 

Turtle Island

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December 5, 2016, Prescott-  Native Americans have always been deep in my heart.  Even before I learned, at age ten, that my paternal grandmother had distant ties to the Penobscot people, of Maine,  there was a closeness that I felt to those who have been here in the Americas, since the last Great Shaking.

I have always loved traditional drumming, the stories that get told at ceremonies around a communal fire and the concept of family being the core of one’s being.  So, it has been a source of great comfort, to see the U.S. Government making more effort to address the legitimate concerns of those who have stood firm against the idea of running an oil pipeline under the Missouri River.  If it’s that crucial, run it elsewhere, away from the river, and the Ogallala Aquifer, which serve not only the Standing Rock Lakota people, but all those downstream- and beyond St. Louis.

I know that many indigenous people have lost their way, and do not, as individuals, represent the spirit of their traditional beliefs.  Neither do  many of the descendants of those who came here from other parts of the world.  The fact remains that there are core beliefs, as to how to address the stewardship of Mother Earth.  Many people regard the northern three-quarters of the North American continent as Turtle Island, as there is a legend that the whole of the world’s landmass, and especially North America, are supported on the back of a turtle.  It is said that the human race is like the turtle, in that we only make progress by sticking out our necks.  Staying inside our collective shells, i.e. comfort zones, gets no one anywhere.

I am proud of all my distant relations for having stood so valiantly, and truthfully, for the good of all.