Category Archives: Spiritual

The Road to 65, Mile 363: Thankfulness and Grace

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Personal Values, Spiritual

November 26, 2015, San Diego-  Every so often, the American Thanksgiving conflates with other occasions of import.  In 2013, for example, Thanksgiving and my 63rd birthday occurred on the same day. 😀

On other years, such as this one, we Baha’is observe the Day of the Covenant, along with Thanksgiving.  The former is a celebration of the life of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, eldest son of Baha’u’llah, and His immediate successor as Head of the Baha’i Faith.  It is so named because ‘Abdu’l-Baha stressed loyalty and obedience to the written Will and Testament of His Father, a document entitled Kitab-i-Ahd, or Book of the Covenant, over loyalty and obedience to a given human being.  This aspect of our Faith has proven its worth, time and again.

Mirza Abbas Effendi-e- Nuri was born on May 23, 1844.  As he was coming into the world, His Father’s Herald, al-Bab, was proclaiming His own Message to humanity:  It was coming time for all mankind to unite, and He was to prepare the human race for One Who would show the way that this could be done.  Abbas Effendi was given the title, ‘Abdu’l-Baha (Servant of Light), when He was nine years old, and was the first to recognize His Father’s station, as the Messenger of God for this day and age.

‘Abdu’l-Baha forbade celebrations of His birthday on May 23, but reluctantly agreed to observances that celebrated His life, while focusing on the Covenant of Baha’u’llah, the promulgation of which was ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s prmary focus, during His twenty-nine years as Head of the Baha’i Faith.  Thus, each November 26 has been dedicated to that purpose.

So, on this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for having been guided to this spiritual path, and to the perfect example set by ‘Abdu’l-Baha.  His are larger shoes than any of us can hope to fill, but it is worth the effort, for the sake of developing and strengthening our virtues.  They guided me to my marriage, to the birth and raising of our son, in whose company I celebrated another marvelous Day of Thanks and to the various friends and places of joy which I have been fortunate to meet and see, over the past thirty-four years.

 

 

The Road to 65, Mile 358: Positivity Outside

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Posted by on in Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Spiritual

November 21, 2015, Prescott- I looked, to no avail, for a parking spot near the point where I left off on Prescott Circle, last Saturday.  I have an ethic about such things:  Never park on a business lot, unless patronizing said business.  So, the second half of Segment 7 will wait until after Thanksgiving, most likely until the afternoon of December 6.

That bit of irrelevance aside, the outdoors, as is well known to my readers, is a huge part of my life.  Positivity arises from the mountains, the desert, the beaches, the grasslands and the serene forests.  Even the ocean has given me a sense of serenity.

Sedona’s red rocks and pine forests abound in good vibrations, as do “our own” forests, lakes and grasslands, around Prescott and vicinity. The vortices of Sedona are closely matched by Thumb Butte.

I have felt similar vibrations elsewhere:  At Indian Gardens, along the Grand Canyon’s Bright Angel Trail; at both Spirit (“Devil’s”) Tower and Medicine Wheel, in northeast Wyoming; at Cahokia Mounds and at the Cairo Confluence, in southern Illinois; at Palo Duro Canyon, in northwest Texas; at Cape Flattery, Washington (the northwestern-most point in the contiguous United States; atop Harney Peak, South Dakota; at several points along Waikiki Beach, Hawai’i; and at more places than I can count, in southeast Alaska.  Then, too, Spirit knows no boundaries:  Stanley Park, Vancouver, the woods of Metz and Le Donjon, Rouen, France, held me in rapt respect.

The wind spoke to me, while on the ocean between Honolulu and San Diego and the rock along the River Trail glowed, in multicolours, when I first visited Palo Duro.  Spiders rode the breeze, on their webs, at Cathedral Rock, Sedona and spun exquisite places of rest in Olustee State Park, Florida, while I watched, in wonder.

There will, no doubt, be other encounters on the road ahead.  Nature eternally urges us onward.

The Road to 65, Mile 287: Shakra Shuffle

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Spiritual

September 10, 2015, Prescott-  The day found me back at work with a disabled boy, and my mother turned 87, a fabulous age, in my book. She went line dancing, which does my heart good.

Mom has always taught us to show compassion, to put others first.  So it has gone, and it has been to my benefit also- because of the Shakras.  Indian medicine tells us there are seven shakras, or regions of energy concentration, in and around the human body.  The first, in the genitalia, deal with personal survival.  The second, in the lower viscera, focus on sexuality and creativity.  The abdominal region focuses on personal power and discipline.

Most of us fond ourselves going back and forth from these “lower” areas of focus, even while priding ourselves on “higher” pursuits.  A couple of years ago, I set out on a spiritually-focused journey, only to fall apart at the seams, midway through, and had to regroup and move forward, once again.

In 2014, whilst in Europe, I found myself more and more focused in the area of the fourth shakra- that of transpersonal love. You guessed it: The fourth shakra is in the region of the heart and lungs.  This is said to feel like the most satisfying, because it is here that service is the main focus.

There are three higher shakras, however, and I was reminded of them, whilst reading a couple of other chapters of “Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior”, which recounts Dan Millman’s experiences in Hawaii and Japan.  A Native Hawaiian healer reviews the shakras with him, calling them floors in “The Tower of Life”, a term first used by Sallie Nichols, in the book “Jung and Tarot”.

The fifth shakra, centered in the neck, is focused on pure inspiration and spirituality.  I’ve been in that state a few times.  Perhaps you have, too.  The sixth, focused in the cerebrum, is called “Pure Light”, communion with the Spirit.  It is no surprise to me, that my messages from the Spirit Realm have come either in dreams, or in waking visions, when I am not concerned with the business at hand.

The seventh shakra is not even in the body. It is in one’s aura, directly above the head, and features Pure Spirit, with no ego left.  This, to me, is the meaning of the Zen teaching that nothingness is the highest state which one may attain.  Being one with the Universe is its manifestation.

As I said earlier, most of us go back and forth, between the first four or five shakras.  I’ve been blessed to have experienced #6, and I know many others who have, as well. To be in one of the higher states, most of the time, is fulfillment.  To handle the lower urges, and get back to spiritual progress, is the norm for me, more and more often.  That said, I think I can wait a while for Shakra #7.  There are too many people about whom I care deeply.

The Road to 65, Mile 274: I Wonder….

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Posted by on in Entertainment, Social, Spiritual

August 28, 2015, Prescott- Two things didn’t happen today:  Work, for me, and letting myself get pushed around by a self-appointed overseer of this blog.

K says I’m lazy, for not putting forth “fresh material” on this site, day by day.

I wonder if he blogs.

I wonder how many hairs he will pull out, day by day, as I continue to write my blog, my way. Oh, wait, I blocked and deleted him.

I wonder how many peas can fit in a pod.

“I wonder, wonder  who wrote the Book of Love.”

“I wonder where she will stay-ay, my little runaway.”

I wonder about people I love dearly, who have stopped responding to my occasional messages.

I wonder who were Adam’s parents, since He sent his sons to another country to get married.

I wonder how the Earth cooled enough, for life to get started here in the first place.

I wonder what the songbirds are saying to one another, as their calls vary, in tone and in pitch.

I wonder how much more crap the common people of Syria will take, from those who variously want to use them as fodder, or as bait.

I wonder what’s REALLY in “Nuggets”, now that “chicken” is seldom used in advertising them.

I wonder what my beloved does, when she is not busy helping me extricate myself from mischief.

The Road to 65, Mile 272: Solitude

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Posted by on in distraction issues, Personal goals, Social, Spiritual

August 27, 2015, Prescott- I am a work in progress.  A lot of baggage has been tossed aside, over the past three decades, and, more intensively, over the past six years.  Blaming others, capriciousness, confusing silence, and sloppiness in my affairs have largely gone away.  I find taking responsibility, being actively engaged with others and carefully planning things are far more satisfying.

 After finishing a four-day stint as a substitute teacher, in Chino Valley, this afternoon, came home and had a twenty-minute power nap.  Two things happened this evening:  I enjoyed a fairly good Beef Stroganoff dinner, at the Legion Post and I got an upgrade to Windows 10, on my PC.  The meal was a fund-raiser, to expand our deck, so as to make it more of a place to relax.  The upgrade was free, and I’m told that will be for a year, then the hand will be outstretched.  I will see how well Windows 10 performs.

I am in more of a solitary mood right now, finding my own space to be a source of solace.  There have been a few buzzsaws of hostility, all over social media sites, though not directed at me, per se, but towards my Faith, and towards other entities and people towards whom I feel close.  Such is life, and those whose hearts are dark will always try to squash the truth, obfuscate and confuse.  I need a break, of sorts, so as to figure out how to rationally and effectively stand up to such as those.

It will be a quiet weekend, with a fair degree of solitude.  Then, I need to get back to work, at whatever place to which I’m called, and the cycle will continue.  I feel more at peace, having stated my concerns.

The Road to 65, Mile 266: Derailing

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Posted by on in Assistance, Personal goals, Social, Spiritual

August 21, 2015, Prescott- 

I sat and completed Alice Walker’s book of verse,

While, on Wall Street, the kids played, “Let’s Make Bad, Worse.”

I got more pleas for financial aid,

“Yet the udder is dry”,

Cried out the milk maid.

The name of my game right now is “Wait”,

While the derailing train lumbers past my gate.

This little verse popped into my head, with the full knowledge that life is seldom either as grim, or as spiffy, as we tend to project.  I am currently reading “The Book Thief” and “Dragon and Phoenix”, both somewhat emotionally-challenging accounts of hard times, one based in history and the other, in science fantasy.  Both Christian and New Age accounts of what might happen, in the near future, are making the rounds, these days.  My take is, whatever gets thrown at us, the majority of us will be able to handle it, somehow and survive.  We might have to make some fundamental changes in how we do things, with, and to, one another, but we will be okay, as a planet.

The Road to 65, Mile 263: Gordon

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Posted by on in Spiritual

August 18, 2015,Prescott- Each year, on this date, my mind goes back to an area called Burntwater, about an hour’s travel west of Gallup, NM.  Here is the Native American Baha’i Institute, where many gather to discuss the growing ties between our Faith and traditional Navajo teachings.

On August 18, 1984, I set out with a Baha’i friend and neighbour, Gordon Tong, three of his children and several Navajo elders.  We were headed to the Institute, to attend a meeting that was designed to address concerns of the traditional Navajos, as to how some visitors from the cities to the south could be more aware of customs and etiquette, when among the Dine people.

As is customary in that area, in August, it was raining heavily and the roads were thick with mud.  We got stuck in some of that mud.  Gordon got his shovel and a couple of young men got boards, to put under the tires. My task was to man the wheel and follow Gordon’s instructions on which way to steer and when to give it gas.  At some point, as we were making slow progress, one of his sons decided to “go for more help”.  I left the truck, for one of the young men to drive, and headed after the boy.  Five minutes into my pursuit, a truck came in the opposite direction, with the boy inside, and the driver explaining that he had received a radio report that Gordon had collapsed and died.  I got in, rode back to the Institute, then to the sheriff’s substation, where Gordon’s body was brought, twenty minutes later.

The meeting became a time of mourning, and two days later, Gordon was laid to rest, under a torrential rain. People came from as far afield as Seattle and the Pine Ridge Lakota Nation. Gordon was Native Hawaiian and Chinese, so his family came from Hilo, to honour their brother and son.  He was 38 years of age, at the time of his passing, and his still young family left to carry on.  They have done so, by and large.  There is no overcoming a deeply-entrenched spirit.

As I write this, the scent of rose oil wafts through the air.  I have no such oil, but I know how much Gordon loved it.  He loved all such fragrances, having grown up with hibiscus, coconut  and all manner of tropical fruit trees, with their own blossoms.  After 31 years, he is telling me that all is well.

I can only marvel at the way the Creator has seen fit to let such as myself remain on Earth, for so many years after the passing of a very worthy man.  All I can think is that there is so much more to do.  Gordon, and all my departed loved ones, are in the next plane of existence, or perhaps higher, lending their support.  I cannot let them down.

The Road to 65, Mile 262: Safe Havens

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Posted by on in Social, Spiritual, Travel

August 17, 2015, Prescott- Yes, today was better than yesterday, and, as an online friend pointed out, it might be a good idea to stay in one place for more than a fortnight, if I want it to feel like home.  I got everything accomplished today that had to be kicked down the road, yesterday.

I want to make another A-Z post.  This time, it’s about places where I actually do feel at home, and safe.

A- Amarillo, because I know right where to head, to “sit a spell”; Anacortes, which is on the short list of places I’d consider, if I need to leave my present community; Albuquerque, where I’ve had some of the most enjoyable vacations, back in the day.

B- Bellingham, a most pleasant spot in which to wait for a ferry; Bisbee, the second-most relaxing place in Arizona; Boston, because it is truly a Hub of Learning and cultural explosion.

C- Carlsbad(CA), where I can always find a welcome, no matter how late it is at night; Claytor Lake, the Virginia spot where two rangers took me in, at 11 PM, on a Sunday night, when I was beside myself with emotional pain; Chicago, because it is majestic and amazing, and I feel safe, actually, no matter what part of town I’m in.

D- Denver, always a place for a good time and connecting with the salt of the Earth; Durango (CO), and may the blessed Animas be healed;

E- Enid, as fine a place to rest and connect with a friend, as I’ve ever known; El Paso, I can sit around here, too, and jabberjaw for quite a while.

F- Fort Worth, one of the friendliest big cities I’ve visited; Flagstaff, because it’s just my second home.

G- Glendale (AZ), four months a year, one of the most relaxing and walkable downtowns in AZ; Glenwood Springs, a comforting steam bath always awaits.

H- Honolulu, misty and ever magical; Hagerstown, a must-stop respite, from the pell-mell rush of BosWash; Hermosillo, the first place I ever visited in Mexico.

I- Inglewood, the resting place of the first Baha’i in the U.S., where I was greeted by a red-tailed hawk.

J- Jasper, one of the loveliest spots in Canada; Juneau, because of the hostel, and Mendenhall; Jeju, my first real Asian home.

K- Ketchikan, frenetic, by Alaskan standards, but still filled with good-hearted people; Keams Canyon, because I got to know Penny there.

L- Lille, working-class and down-home France; Lynn, because so many family members are still there, and it’s the Beach; Luxembourg, the most welcoming party place, ever.

M- Moscow (ID), because people begged me to hang out there a while longer; Manitou Springs, for the same reason; Memphis, because, St. Jude’s, and Beale.

N- New Orleans, nothing more need be said;  Nashville, homey and loving.

O- Oceanside, the Rock Walk rocks; Oklahoma City, the only place where I was invited to a County Employees’ Picnic; Ocean Springs, just a calm and homey place to meet a friend.

P- Prescott, more of a home than I sometimes acknowledge; Phoenix, because so much of me is still there; Philadelphia, because of Germantown, the river, and my extended family; Portland, because it’s ever in bloom.

Q- Quincy (IL), the trees, the river, and the Ali family.

R- Reno, because my soul family is there; Rouen, my roots run deep.

S- San Diego, my California home; Saugus (MA), the core of my family; Strasbourg, my Alsatian brothers and sisters; Sedona, the most relaxing place in Arizona; Sitka, because it is a place truly apart.

T- Tallahassee- a surprise around every corner; ; Tucson, because my friends are always glad for my presence; Tuba City, where I first connected with Native Americans, on a deep level, and where we first had a married home.

U- Utah Beach, always a place of honour and reverence.

V- Versailles, both excessive resplendence and down-to-Earth goodness; Vicksburg, a reminder of how things can go wrong, and be made right again, over time; Victoria, an honest and well-balanced little city.

W- Washington, despite all the bluster and phoniness, underneath it’s an exquisite city; Wenatchee- the consummate survivor town; Wrangell, because it felt like home, before I left the boat.

X- Xenia, an Ohio town with enormous heart.

Y- Yellowstone, no more magical place exists, anywhere.

Z- Zion, a different side of Illinois.

Of course, I could list more such places, like Bruges and Bastogne, but you get the point, if you’ve read this far.

The Road to 65, Mile 261: Trusting the Journey

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Spiritual

August 16, 2915, Prescott-  It is coming down to a very telling choice.  Perhaps as early as November, maybe not until January, 2017, or at some point in between the two, my intuition is telling me it’s time to move on.

I say November, because by then, my pledges to the Yavapai County Angels and Hope Fest will have been honoured, the snows will be gathering in Massachusetts, and I don’t want to leave my mother alone, in that house where we grew up, while the rest of my family is facing stresses of their own.

I say it’s time to move on, because all my friends in this town of Prescott are doing just fine, and will continue to be fine whether I’m here or not.  Truth is, I am spending more, in a modestly expensive apartment, with minimal day-to-day work, then I have in any given month on the road, these past few years. I am not a salesman, yet I have looked to help people with a product in which I believe, but without seed money, one cannot do much in establishing an essential oils trade, and I am NOT going to go the “Fund Me” route.  I have been offered a minimum wage position as an apartment complex manager, but would still have to pay my own full rent- so that’s out.

I have had some places come into my head, in quiet moments.  I could settle in a more economical living space, live in a place where  I could pretty much walk to a school, where I could substitute teach, and a few such places have entered my consciousness.  I could also go somewhere where people live in community, not in semi-anonymity.  Places where my presence would be discomfiting to people I know online or in real time, and there are a few such people, would not be on my list of options.

These are all rather petty-sounding, I know, and many have it far worse than me.  The issue for me, though, is more existential.  It’s more a matter of no place having really felt like home, since Penny passed.  It’s more a matter of people having their own priorities and life patterns, in which someone like me does not belong.  I know, that will be the same, no matter where I go, and that will be something I have to face.  My welcome here, though, is wearing thin, and so it’s time to trust the journey and start planning ahead.

UPDATE:  I will be removing a couple of photos from a post I did on Santa Monica, a few weeks ago, and hopefully the post will be less discomfiting to those concerned.