Category Archives: Spiritual

Approaching

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Posted by on in American Legion, Historical, Poetry, Spiritual

August 21, 2016, Prescott-

The indomitable warrior is looking at his last.

He was lying in his last bed,

looking into two worlds, simultaneously.

I’ve seen this look before;

five years ago, in fact.

He could not speak, beyond a whisper,

but his message was loud and clear.

“Thank you, for not  forgetting me.”

Then, came his salute,

followed by my own, in return.

In the end, when it comes,

he will have his wife’s love,

the admiration of his Legionnaires

and the small bottle of sand

from Utah Beach,

where he once commanded a battalion.

Too soon for Rest in Peace,

never too late for respect.

 

The Balm that Simmers

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Posted by on in children, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

August 19, 2016, Prescott- For two weekends in a row, going to a “free” concert by a local band, named The Cheektones, has been a fine way to unwind from a work position that requires every ounce of my energy and commitment.  More about them, later.

Simply put, most people have little or no understanding of the troubled.  I have listened to, and worked with and around,  two conflicting agendas, both of whose proponents purport to want what’s best for the kids in our care.  I have operated, for forty years of work with children and youth, on a gradually-established, and continually fine-tuned, intuition and sensibility.  I made all manner of errors, my first three years of teaching, and learned from every one of them, while being remorseful over those who fell behind, or fell through the cracks.  Those of my early students who are still living are in their mid-fifties now.  Chances are, most of them have gone on and lived fairly complete lives.

Nothing remains in stasis, for very long.  My current small group of children are, more than even the average child, all about the moment- and it could be the polar opposite of the moment before- or that which lies straight ahead.  Some adult observers “recognize” chemical imbalance; others see “parental spoiling”; still others just know the pain- and want to heal.

I tend to be in the last category.  Most of you know, by now, of my own having grown up autistic, somewhere on the Asperger’s spectrum.  “Emotionally-handicapped” people are, therefore, special to me.  I want nothing more than to win their trust and help them grow into, at least, a position of functionality.

I have thus tended to find myself in classrooms where such children are placed, in a group.  This grouping is not ideal, either for the students, or for the (usually small) team of adults who work with said grouping.  Adults of a certain age also tend to bicker, openly, then are astounded at the insolence of the children.  This happens between spouses, ex-spouses, co-workers and supervisors/subordinates.  I, admittedly, have done my share of bickering, in various settings, over the years.

I got out of the circular chase by stopping myself, and just listening.  Being now in a workplace where I am allowed to say very little, in the presence of my immediate supervisor, albeit enjoying freer speech at school-wide meetings, I have grown ever more comfortable with just being still.  With the children, though, as I get to know them better, I can, and will, impart to them  a code of decency and respect, which many of them have not known, other than intuitively, in their all-too-brief lives.

It is this year’s primary task to bring balm to the sore,  to heal the simmering wound.

 

“Until All Death Is Gone”

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Posted by on in Community, Education, Inspiration, Literary criticism, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Spiritual

August 17, 2016, Prescott- The rain today, has been almost incessant, both at my workplace and around my neighbourhood.  Some dry spots exist,though, among the microclimates of Prescott:  The southwest forest, the grasslands around Glassford Hill and, at the far east end of our county, in Cordes Lakes.  I pulled bus duty, after school, and had a fine time juggling a handheld stop sign, a large umbrella and my waterproof bag, containing the clipboard on which I was to record bus arrival times.  All went smoothly, with parents, children and bus drivers following my instructions.

This evening, after our Wednesday evening devotional, I finished reading “The Shack”, a spiritually-themed novel by William P. Young, who tells the story of a man with a troubled past, whose youngest child is missing and presumed dead.  The man returns to the place where a serial killer is believed to have brought his little girl, and has an intense encounter with God, as a Christian might imagine Him.

There is a moment, towards the end of the man’s Divine experience, when God reveals a song, which He says was written by the child.   The song’s refrain is as follows:

“Come kiss me wind and take my breath

Till you and I are one

And we will dance among the tombs

Until all death is gone.”

This morning, I experienced a dream in which I was in a retail work situation.  I was improperly dressed for the job, and somehow had driven my car into the store.  When I got into the car, to go back home and change, the Customer Service lady, standing with a clipboard, gasped “You can’t get away with THAT!”

I woke, and my mind went back to every time in my life that I had made a serious error in judgment.  Slowly getting dressed for the day, I took care to remind myself that things were slowly and carefully coming together in my life.  There have been many fine experiences, greatly overshadowing any setbacks.  The day went just fine, even with a few challenges, faced and overcome.

I mention these, as the main character in “The Shack”, one Mackenzie Allan “Mack” Phillips, was, like me, a person who spent much of his life focusing on his mistakes and on how deficient he was, compared with how he saw others.  Thus, the course on which his life proceeded was meant to lead to his encounter with God- Who is presented as a Trinity: the stern, and occasionally derisive, Father; the loving Son, Jesus the Christ and the inspirational, ever-present Holy Spirit.  Each added to Mack’s growth and presented a model of forgiveness and wholeness.

I think of my own relationship with God.  He has shown me, through experiences both glorious and jarring, that I am a worthwhile child of His, no less capable of doing good in the world, than anyone else.  Mack learned that his human icons were fallible; so have I.  None of us is any less lovable, to our fellow humans or to the Celestial, for that fallibility.

So, it is my wish, hope and desire that each of us can see the Day, when we work to establish unity in the world, with a view towards the time when “all death is gone”.

 

 

Flow

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Posted by on in Poetry, Spiritual

August 16, 2016, Prescott- 

It’s said that heat enervates, stifles many things.

Metal can be an exception; loving the liquidity brought to it, by heat.

Man is largely made of water , however.

Water, and Man, evaporate with too much heat.

Physical relationships love warmth.

It’s no accident that physical attraction is often characterized by the term “hot”, to  describe an attractee.

Then again, scorpions are attracted to a steaming cup of coffee, when it’s left on a patio table, in a desert condo.

Friendships need warmth, too.

That is a fortunate thing- for dogs lying at their masters’ feet; for coffee house owners and barkeeps keeping their patrons’ lively tables well-plied; for the muscles that are so soothed by a respectful, but heartfelt, hug- and for me.

The ocean flows, largely warm, in its midsection and cold at its extremities.

Snakes like warmth. Fish prefer cold.  Birds take what they can get.    Man gets whatever he can take.

The Universe flows on.

Rubicon

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Posted by on in Community, Education, Family, Personal goals, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

August 14, 2016, Prescott- I remarked to some collaborators-in-faith, this morning, that I have scrapped plans for most travel outside North America, until at least 2021. (South Korea, where my son is to be stationed, next year, being an exception.)  There were crickets in the room, so our discourse went on to things of more common interest.

Later today, I attended a gathering that was sponsored by Team Rubicon, the disaster recovery organization that is mostly made up of military veterans.  The very allusion to making a decisive and irreversible choice defines this group, whose impact is as great, if not greater than that of the Red Cross.  These are the people who remain behind, once the news cycle is over and the long-term work begins.  They choose to walk the celestial path, with practical feet. (‘Abdu’l-Baha admonished us Baha’is to do just that, in several speeches, when he visited North America, in 1912.)

I have plenty to do around here, during the academic year, and with regard to both my Faith and the needs of the larger community.  At 65 years, 8 months, it’s important to consider at least the seeds of legacy.  I’m in fine health, and I do want to continue with a full, contributive life.  Five years of gainful employment remain.  I will insist on actively taking part in the well-being of the Prescott area, both inside and outside my worksite.  Summers will still find me visiting friends and family, in various parts of this continent, starting with a second journey northwestward, next June. Christmas and New Year’s will still be marked by the presence of loved ones and good friends, both here and on the East Coast.  June, 2021 will still be the beginning of an extended journey to many parts of the globe, the only caveats being the needs of my son, any family he might have by then, and our larger family.

I will remain working to educate people on the Oneness of Mankind, on the need for an inquiring mind, and on the healing properties of Certified, Therapeutic Grade Essential Oils, and the imperative of wellness.  My Rubicon was crossed, years ago, when Penny pointed me towards the mountain with a shimmering star above it.

 

Interruption

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Posted by on in Assistance, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

July 10, 2016, Newtown, CT-  In my subsequent posts, I will be doing a bit of time-reversal, focusing on stories of my journey, from last week.  Today, though, I found myself in the predicament of having to put my Nissan in the shop, here in this town that is associated with tragedy.  The engine was smoking, the radiator might have sprung a leak or two, and the coolant overflow tank definitely needs replacing.  I will deal with these things.  It may take two or three days, but I will handle it.

In the meantime, I will be in a hotel room, in nearby Bethel.  This will give me plenty of time to read and write.  I will reflect on the fact that, just three days ago, a mechanic at a Nissan dealership, in a town about 50 miles from here,  replaced the front exhaust pipe, which he said was clogged, with no mention of a radiator problem, or an oil leak. I will converse with one of my closest friends, about whatever cash flow system can be set up, to streamline the payment part of this whole process.  I will write about the things I’ve seen and people whose company I have enjoyed, up to this point.  I will catch up on my reading.

All the while, I will reflect on the lives of the 26 people who paid the ultimate sacrifice, four years ago, this December.  I might lose a car, and have to get another one, but it is a machine.  Most of those who died at Sandy Hook Elementary were just starting out in life.  Being actually killed was the furthest thing from their minds.  That is no longer the case, for many children and their loving adults- both familial and pedagogical.  They look over their shoulders, literally and figuratively, every day.

Ironically, I was going to stop at Sandy Hook, and pay my respects, after gassing up at the  Mobil station, in Newtown.  The consensus, while I was waiting for the tow truck, was that Nissan wasn’t going anywhere.  I, on the other hand, will go where this turn of events takes us;  Me, the car or its replacement, and any who appear in the meantime.

Tales from the 2016 Road: The Long Walk of 1864

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Posted by on in Historical, Spiritual, Striving, Travel
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Entrance to Fort Sumner National Monument,NM

July 1, 2016, Fort Sumner, NM-  There are several places in the United States, that every citizen should see, if for no other reason than to know that unity is a delicate thing.  Fort Sumner, a place of captivity for thousands of people, in the 1860’s, is such a place.

I have known, and  worked with, Navajo (Dineh) and Hopi people, for several years.  The Dineh, along with the Mescalero Apache (Indeh) people, were forcibly removed from their ancestral lands, in 1864, by one of the most unfortunate edicts of President Lincoln, who had a blind spot, where Native Americans were concerned.  He never stopped being an Indian fighter.

The people endured the harsh life of captives, very similar to what the Japanese internees endured in the camps of World War II.  The difference was that the Dineh and Indeh people built the camps, including the quarters of their overseers.  Many died of disease and starvation, in this squalid place.

The people were released in 1868, on orders from President Andrew Johnson, who had no real axe to grind with the Navajos or Apaches.  They walked homeward, and the Navajo wept, when they spotted one of their sacred mountains, Mount Taylor, east of Albuquerque.

Here are some of the sights that presented themselves to me, during my visit here, this morning.  The first shows the pyramid-like structure that houses the museum displays and theater, that tells the story of the Long Walk.  The ranger initially interpreted my foregoing the film, as a sign of disinterest in the actual events.  A conversation, afterward, corrected that misconstruance.

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Monument Headquarters, Fort Sumner, NM

The second photo shows the area, as it might have appeared when the captives first arrived in Bosque Redondo, as the woods were called back then. The Commemoration Stone, first brought here by Navajo Nation President Peterson Zah, in 1994.

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Nature Trail, Fort Sumner, NM

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Commemoration Stone, Fort Sumner, AZ

The descendants of both Navajo and Mescalero Apache internees, and many others from various tribes, bring items of dedication to this memorial site.

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Memorial Site, Fort Sumner, NM

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Barracks for US Army troops, Fort Sumner National  Monument, NM

The above is an example of the structures which captives were forced to build, for the housing of their overseers.

Below is a flock of Churro Sheep, raised by Navajos and now viewed as an heirloom breed, for the quality of their wool and meat.

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Churro Sheep, Fort Sumner National Monument, NM

This visit, which I had planned for quite some time, was a sobering reminder of just how far we have come, and a caution of how far we can fall backwards, in our inter-human connections. Like Manzanar, and Berga, Germany, it is a place that the smug and self-assured would do well to see, as a wake-up call.

NEXT UP:  Return to Amarillo’s Happy Southwest 6th Street.

Heat and Quotidia

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Personal goals, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

June 26, 2016, Prescott-  I am back at Home Base, for four days or so, having served others, at a shelter in eastern Arizona and my spirit, at a Baha’i retreat, outside Flagstaff.  There is enough heat to go around, across the continent, from the sound of things.  It’s toasty here, but my ceiling fan, windows cracked open and plenty of cold water will see me through.

The week ahead will find me finishing the facilitation of a spiritual study group, joining a group of children on an outing to an animal rescue shelter, tending to a couple of quotidian comfort items (returning a sound system that isn’t working with my laptop and getting the zipper to the bottom of my tent’s door put back on track.) and being useful around here, wherever I can.

Come Thursday evening, I will be off again- this time focusing on family and friends, scattered as we are across the Midwest, Northeast and South.  The “Garython”, if you will, is likely to be something of a sequel to the journey I took in 2011.  That one was a reaction to my grief.  This one is more of an in-gathering.  Cousins, with whom I haven’t been in touch for several years, are reconnecting.  Friends along the way will also be a priority.  My mother and  two siblings will be at one end of the route, and also a priority, given that the end of this year will find me largely focused on my son and his  impending change of scene.  Southern brother, and Penny’s family, will be at the lower end, as will a few other special souls.  Then, a zip across the nation, to Colorado, and an Essential Oils conference, will end the whole shebang.

I read about fire and water, on opposite ends of the country, continuing to give grief to so many people.  A fellow attendee, at the retreat I joined this weekend, is of the opinion that Earth will undergo severe climate and geological events for the next 30,000 years.  If that’s the case, we’ll all spend much of our spirit lives responding to the urgent pleas of those who are here.  Somehow, I don’t think it’ll be THAT long of a torment, but we surely have to deal with what is going on now.

Speaking of which, a black bear made its way to town today.  It was spotted outside the Planet Fitness that I frequent.  I haven’t left the house, since I got back from Bellemont, and will just have to keep tabs on the matter, tomorrow.

Solstice

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Posted by on in Family, Personal Values, Poetry, Spiritual, Striving

June 21, 2016, Prescott-

I read the tortured words of an angel, just now

and wonder at the eyes that don’t see,

the hearts that don’t feel.

I love, stay close, and don’t see her as a burden.

I listened, on Sunday, to my son’s angst

over his future,

and wonder how such a talented, fastidious soul

could question his own worth.

I love, stay close, and don’t see him as unworthy.

I will soon head out to yet another fire shelter.

We will do what we can to comfort, soothe and reassure

those whom nature, in her wrath,  has cast aside.

We love, stay vigilant and don’t see them as nuisances.

The day is long here,

and we hydrate, stay cool and stand in awe  of the Sun.

The day is short, down there,

and they bundle up, stay warm and seek the comfort of the Moon.

I have more work to do, on here, so stay tuned.

Guiding Spirits

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Posted by on in Education, Family, Social, Spiritual

June 4-5, 2016, Burntwater, AZ-  There are, as I have indicated various times, several places in the world where I feel like family, and not just a passing acquaintance who is forgotten as soon as I leave.  Reno/Carson City is one such place, the Prescott area, where I live most of the time,  Metro San Diego (where my son lives) – and this small corner of the country’s largest Indian Nation, are among the others.  Burntwater used to have a trading post.  Now, it has the Native American Baha’i Institute of Learning.  That may sound redundant, but educating people of all ages has been the core purpose of this facility, since it was founded, in 1981.  I always feel like the Guiding Spirits are with me here.  When I arrived here, on Friday night, it was late, so I rolled out the sleeping bag and slept under the stars, as we all had, that first weekend on the property- when there were no buildings.

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Native American Baha’i Institute’s 35th Anniversary

Thus, about thirty of us gathered here, these past two days-  to recount the past thirty-five years and to plan, with a group of service-oriented youth, for its immediate and short-term future.  NABIL has come far, since 10-15 of us gathered here, in June, 1981, and sat with a group of Dine’ (Navajo) elders, asking them what they wanted to see here.  I remember the first thing on their list was reliable water.  So, a dowser came to visit, a well was dug, and the long drive to a pump, of spotty reliability, was over, within three months.  That well has been replaced, by an even more reliable water source, in the past ten years.  Local residents can get a portion of water that they all agreed upon, in council, with everyone’s opinion heard and considered, by the community. This is how Dine’, and most Native Americans across the country, are used to doing things.  A weekly community dinner is offered on Thursday evenings, and this is also a chance for residents to freely air their concerns.

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The Library is the central meeting place, for consultation and mindfulness.

Financial literacy classes, the trades and some college preparatory classes are among the services that the current staff are hoping to see offered here, in the next several years.  The Institute has come a long way.  I stayed in a comfortable lodge, for the second night I was there.

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As with any place that people gather, the dining hall is also a key place for consultation and camaraderie.

I was asked, upon getting ready to leave on Sunday morning, to remember that I must not be a stranger here.  The permanent staff have been like family to me, for a long time, so I will bear that in mind.  Driving across Hopi, also a place that is home, I found the place quiet, though I later learned that there was a social dance, which I apparently missed.  No worries, as there were two fires, along the route  back to Prescott, and I had to focus on getting back in one piece.  It looked as if the fires were under control, though.

I was back, and had my house cooled off, by 6 PM.  Now, let’s see what a week in one place will look like.