Category Archives: Spiritual

The Road to Diamond, Day 50: Blessed Cinnamon

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 17, 2025- It was bound to happen again. I joined a group for lunch, yesterday, and though I sat away from someone who said he’d been sick for the last few days, the sickness found its way into me. I woke up this morning dragging, even after showering and getting self together. By afternoon, the chills and nausea were cues to huddle under thick blankets and a comforter. I forewent attending a matinee concert, in mid-afternoon,but it became clear that I had to knock this illness out of me, before a fairly busy weekend.

Hot cider with cinnamon came to the rescue, and attending an evening Zoom call was not at all difficult. I have found that herbs and spices, from cinnamon to chili, will knock the daylights out of any bacterial infection, even minimizing viruses, as they run their course. Besides, the herbs and spices tend to taste good. I sit here tonight, and feel nearly new.

Faith and healing keep even the harshest infections at bay. It should be a fine weekend.

The Road to Diamond, Day 49: Move Without Fear

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Posted by on in Assistance, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 16, 2025- The woman sitting across from me at lunch was unequivocal: “Asking people to vote for a woman of colour for President was a waste of time.” She went on further, looking at other races that did not go to her liking, and concluding that it is best to conserve money and energy to only run candidates in races that they have a chance of winning.

Conventional practices bring conventional results-until they don’t. I have a lifetime of “punching above my weight”, with checkered results. Looking back, though, my regrets are primarily due, not to taking on challenges, but to lack of preparation and of self-confidence. I have also been guilty of placing too much trust in those who have, in retrospect, given every indication that they had no intention of acting honestly. Following a tack of business as usual has not ended well, in such circumstances. Yet, here we are.

Elections are a basic part of life in a free society, but they are only a part. The hard work of citizenship, if it is to meet with success, has to cast the conventional out, when it no longer works. Typecasting people, by race and/or gender, is an idea that no longer works, if indeed it ever did. Limiting effort, by placing too much emphasis on money and time, especially on the former, is more a reflection of fear and fatigue than on meeting the actual needs of our society-as it exists now. Holding meetings in secret and consigning decisions to a select few is a shopworn idea, counterproductive to progressives and conservatives alike. This last would be well remembered by those who are “okay” with government by oligarchs, who by the way, may be found on both ends of the political spectrum.

Finally, there is the same hand-wringing I have heard, about “what’s wrong with the young people?”, that I’ve heard since I was a teenager myself. Heck, similar messages have been translated from hieroglyphics! What I hear from younger people is that they respect authenticity, above all else. That’s no surprise, given that the primary job of a young human is self-discovery. Fakery is lethal to someone just starting out in life. The second most important quality to youth is courage. Left, right, in -between, fearlessness is what will bring one across the finish line.

Stand tall, keep head and eyes clear and heart open. The world cannot progress, covered in yesterday’s dust.

The Road to Diamond, Day 48: Desert Rose

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 15, 2025- He was never, to my knowledge, at a loss for words. in his search for truth, he frequently spoke of a figure in his dreams, to whom he referred as “the shiny man”. I, too, dreamed of that same figure, on my first visit to Prescott, in 1979. William Sears and I had both dreamed of ‘Abdu’l-Baha. Mr. Sears, who preferred to be called “Bill”, established Desert Rose Baha’i School, along with his wife, Marguerite, in 1988. It was held in various locations, in Tucson, for its first eight years. Mr. Sears passed away in 1992, but Marguerite and a small group of helpers purchased land in 1996. This became Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, occupying about half of the land that Marguerite had envisioned for the Institute. (The other half, still owned by individual Baha’is, faces an uncertain future.)

Penny and I visited DRBI last, in 2007, when we joined a gathering of musicians. The late Dan Seals was among the artists present, and is the only person who has ever persuaded me to sing in a chorus. It was not a bad experience, joining people whose voices were pleasant, in a rendition of “We Are One”. That, of course, was both Dan’s, and Penny’s, last visit to Desert Rose. He died in 2009, and she, in 2011.

I went there today, after visiting Tohono Chul Park, in Oro Valley, near Tucson. That salubrious desert park’s Garden Bistro served up what will now be among my favourite plates: Mesquite flour pancakes, filled with Poblano peppers, topped with fresh berries. It was my second fabulous meal in a row, dinner having been a supremely savoury taco salad, at Benson’s Cafe 86, a homey local favourite, staffed by a hard working couple.

It was thus time for spiritual food to supplement the repasts. I pulled up next to a sign at Desert Rose that said “administration”. A small group was sitting outside a house next to the building. After greeting each other, I got basic directions from one of the ladies, as to the location of Mr. and Mrs. Sears’ memorial sites. (Marguerite passed in 2006, and is buried in the Institute’s Memorial Park.) After a brief stroll around the main property, I stopped at the memorial dome that is dedicated to Bill, reflecting on his life’s work, which ranged from being a sportscaster in Philadelphia to humanitarian efforts, from Mississippi to South Africa. He was ever a stalwart foe of racial segregation, but always worked within the law.

The Memorial Dome for William Sears, Desert Rose Baha’i Institute, Eloy, Arizona.

Here are a few of the other buildings that grace the property.

Round House is the dining hall and doubles as a conference center.
Musician Chris Ruhe manages this small FM radio station, which serves up both spiritual and secular programming.
Hadden Hall is the main conference center.
This is Marguerite Reimer Sears’ resting place. Several other friends are also laid to rest in the Memorial Park.

After saying several prayers there, I went back to my hosts’ house and joined them for a cup of peppermint tea. Telahoun and Brooke Molla were proprietors of an Ethiopian restaurant in Tempe, when I lived in Phoenix. We enjoyed the fare there, a few times, and became friendly with the family. It was a delightful surprise to find them living at DRBI, with their youngest child.

PROMOTION: Desert Rose is looking for energetic, sustainability-oriented xeriscapers or those trained in permaculture. The kitchen garden and a tree-planting campaign are the current foci of self-sustaining volunteers. Spiritual open-mindedness is a plus. So, too, is being able to innovate ways to deal with extended periods of high heat (Upwards of 118 F, in the height of summer.) The adobe homes do offer protection and there are two swimming pools. A large bank of solar panels helps to provide power.

https://drbi.org/facilities-and-rentals#rh

The Road to Diamond, Day 47: Picketpost

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, collaborating, Hiking and Nature, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 14, 2025, Benson, AZ- The old centipede moved haltingly across the floor of my motel room. Whether it was its age, or the cold of the floor that stymied the creature, it was clear that the animal was not robust. I was able to get it into a trash basket, using a sheet of paper as a push vessel. From there, the centipede was placed outside, on some rocks that would warm up shortly thereafter.

I also got myself moving, a short time later, and after a light breakfast next door, at Gypsy Sisters Coffee and Tea House, it was time to head to Picketpost Trailhead, which intersects with the Arizona Trail, some five miles west of Superior. I have long wanted to climb the actual mountain by that name, but have found that the common trail at the south end of the peak is closed, due to a rock slide.

That left the magnificent Arnett Canyon, between the mountain that forms a western boundary for Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park and Picketpost Mountain’s 9-mile north to south expanse. Arnett is a mecca for wildflower enthusiasts, each Spring. Today, a good 2.5 months before any blooms appear, it was the rock formations, and small gems and minerals that commanded attention.

When I pulled into the parking lot for Picketpost Trailhead, I was pleased to see that three small groups were also preparing to take in the area. I did not want to be strictly alone for the duration of the hike. As it happened, a group of five women were on a search for Apache tears, the obsidian glass-like gems that dot the middle reaches of Arnett Canyon, near some copper mine tailings left by the predecessor of Resolution Copper, which now operates a limited enterprise east and south of Superior. They invited me to join them for a time, and I was thus able to gather nineteen of the droplets, with initial help from one of the women, who is a gemologist.

Some are, of course, shiny whilst others are rough. I may gently buff some of the less attractive stones, and leave others in a rough state.

Here are some scenes of Arnett Canyon and of its two mountain borders.

The Sun’s energy bathed Picketpost Mountain, in mid-morning.
The majestic boundary of Boyce Thompson Arboretum is crowned by sahuaros.

An exploratory cross-section shows the solidity of the sandstone that rises above Arnett Canyon.
Towering sandstone figures leave much to the imagination.
Even in this dry season, water finds a way to make its presence known.
The Telegraph Fire (2021) caused a lot of damage in Arnett and nearby Alamo Canyon. This barrel cactus has stayed alive, while bearing the scars of the blaze.
Wind can whip a fire, and it can also carry the seeds of plants over mountains. These date palms are from wind-blown seeds that came over the barrier mountain, from Boyce Thompson.
Here is a makeshift arch that someone fashioned out of cholla cactus spines.
As I came up a set of stairs, fashioned from stone, more sandstone guardians made themselves known.

Superior stands as yet another hub of wonders that dot the Southwest.

The Road to Diamond, Day 46: Copper Mountain

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 13, 2025, Superior, AZ- The Wolf Moon shone through my front window, keeping me company, as I read the morning paper, at Home Base I. Thirteen hours later, a sliver has darkened, and the night is quiet here, in the eastern foothills of the Superstition Mountains. The sub-range is also called Apache Tears Mountains, in reference to the gemstone that is quite common in these parts, and named for the tears of the survivors of warriors who rode their horses off a nearby cliff, rather than be captured. In reality the gems are flakes of obsidian.

I am spending the night at Copper Mountain Motel, where I stay when visiting Superior. Usually once a year, it is a joy to spend a few hours at Boyce Thompson Arboretum or a nearby wilderness area. Main Street is also worth an early morning visit, for the shops and Victorian hotel that have sprung up in recent years. These might be tomorrow morning’s agenda.

Today started with the Monday morning coffee group, which saw all regular members arrive fairly early and solve the major problems of the world. We will repeat that process next week, as for some reason, the problems just don’t stay solved. If at first you don’t succeed……

After carefully packing, and listening to a full moon meditation, I drove towards I-17, stopping to pick up a supplement and connecting to Sirius XM, so as to keep tabs on the Los Angeles fire situation. The heartbreak will be long in abating, even if not another inch should catch fire. Whilst en route here, U.S. 60 found many of us inching along, only to note that a major pile-up involving five vehicles, had taken place. I was saddened to see four or five people sitting on blankets beside the highway and looking stunned. Eight people, including an infant, had to be sent to hospital. The pain goes on. In Superior itself, I stopped at the Arizona Rest Area, only to see signs that said the waterline for the facility had broken-an oblique connection to the Los Angeles blazes. Thankfully, there is no blaze at present in this area.

A positive energy is flowing here tonight. After another nice meal at Los Hermanos, a place I first patronized in 1979, I walked back to the motel and took in another two episodes of “The Chosen”, Season 4. The series about the ministry of Jesus the Christ has its unsettling moments, yet affirms much of what I believe about the nature of faith.

In light and darkness, energy is often what you make it to be.

The Road to Diamond, Day 45: Seniorhood

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 12, 2025- Two men, about my age hung around me last night, at The Raven, as a diverse crowd of us took in a concert by CheekTones, one of Prescott’s premier bands. Don Cheek and three or four bandmates have been rocking various houses for about twelve years now. They invariably pack whatever establishment they’re in, to a great measure because they can hold a tune for six or seven minutes-sometimes longer.

At any rate, one of my age mates is given to want to have conversations, while the band is playing. That doesn’t work too well at a CheekTones gig, and he was visibly frustrated, both with me and with the couple whose table he was sharing. in a mild bit of projection, he asked me if I was having fun. I was, actually, especially when the band was in full roar. The other gentleman, who lives just up the street from Raven, comes in and either stands with other people his age or takes the wooden chair by the house piano. He rarely speaks to anyone, but likes to hear CheekTones and one or two other bands. If I manage to get a table, I am glad to share it with whoever needs a seat. Life is too short for anything less. It’s hard on a night like that, to actually get a seat, but I did, when a wary, guarded woman who had been sitting by herself got up and left. By then, the silent man had also left, otherwise, he could have joined me.

I mention all this, in consideration of my being in the middle third of my eighth decade on this blue planet. Years ago, a long-time acquaintance, then in his early nineties, sported a bumper sticker on his SUV: “Aging-if it’s not your issue now, it will be.” At the time, aging was my issue only in regard to my in-laws, who were in their mid-eighties and my mother, in her late seventies. My primary issue then was adult care of a middle-aged disabled person, my wife. Children’s issues were important, too, but secondary.

I have, however, always recognized the import of the matter. Being the oldest of four surviving siblings, every year I live is also a beacon of hope for my sister and brothers. Besides, I agree with someone who remarked this morning at breakfast: “I love getting older.” Before the brickbats start flying, let me say that I enjoyed being a child and a teenager, and being in my 30s and 40s; 20s and 50s, not so much, but much of that was on me.

It helps that I have feelings for someone, who I will see again soon. It helps that I have a strong network of friends and a loving family. Mostly, though, I have come to be a self-contained unit, comfortable in my own skin. Mom taught us that, by her own example. She liked being with people, but when alone, she was quite happy. Love from others cannot really mean anything, without a healthy self-love.

So, despite the aches and pains which I see around me, and which may someday hit closer to home, I am good with seniorhood.

The Road to Diamond, Day 44: Ring of Fire

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 11,2025- The views from north Los Angeles County have been dispiriting, as views of mass destruction always are. There seems to be no end to burned-out shells of what used to be homes, businesses, institutions of culture; no end to scenes of forest gone, and dead wildlife lying on the forest floor. There is, also, it seems, no end to the finger-pointing back and forth, between people who didn’t like each other, before the fires, and won’t like one another even after some of them are dead. This last accomplishes nothing, as the well-to-do and the homeless, alike, find themselves on the street and too many are wondering where their next meal might be found.

Los Angeles proper is not free and clear, yet. No place within a thirty mile radius of the Palisades or Eaton fires is. The Santa Ana winds are that strong. Prayers are going up, all over the world, that next week’s tempests will not exacerbate the current fires, or spark new ones, along the State Highway 15, I-5 or Highway 101 corridors. Solutions are being devised, to the water accessibility issues, and in the United States Senate, where a conservative Republican (Montana’s Tim Sheehy) ,who is also a wildland firefighter, has reached out to Senator Schiff, of California and Senator Kim, of New Jersey-which has also had recent wildfire woes. The Federal strategy should prove proactive and its necessity is beyond argument, given that FEMA ends up with the tab for much of the costs of recovery. The piper can set the stage before playing the tune.

Too often, in times of disaster, from Pearl Harbor, through September 11, 2001 and on through all manner of hurricanes, tornadoes, chemical explosions, mass shootings, and wildfires, naysayers have to some extent deflected the public’s awareness of the actual causes of a tragic event and been allowed to interfere with the process of recovery. The public weal calls for us to shut off the noise and focus on actual causes of a disaster. Usually, those causes are far more complex than the fast track news cycle allows for analysis. Addressing only surface issues serves merely to guarantee that the same problems will be faced, the next time, regardless of the locale.

I live in a fire prone area. There is no daylight between the suffering of a conservative rancher or that of his neo-hippy artist neighbour. We have learned to see the needs of both as equally worthy of consideration, and it is highly likely that the one would come to the aid of the other, without hesitation, judging by the reactions to our own last big blaze, in 2013, when 19 wildland firefighters died in a firestorm. Conservatives and progressives spoke with one voice, when misfits came out of the woodwork, after the blaze had been extinguished and threatened the very lives of other firefighters, Go Fund Me,should there be a future fire, in a ludicrous claim of “speaking for freedom”. Everyone of sound mind stood together and helped both those who lost their homes and the families of the fallen Hot Shots.

That last is already happening, in Altadena, in Sylmar and in what remains of Pacific Palisades and south Malibu. Several nonagenarians were carried out of harm’s way, by their neighbours. Go Fund Me campaigns are in place for assistance to large families who have been displaced. A network of recovery is being established, across Los Angeles County and across the nation and the world. Fire teams from Oregon, Idaho, Alaska, Arizona, Nevada, Montana,Texas, the Navajo Nation, Canada and Mexico are on the ground, rendering assistance. World Central Kitchens, Project Rubicon and the American Red Cross are also in a full court press, across the County.

When disaster strikes, the greater fire of community strength rises. May it ever be thus.

The Road to Diamond, Day 43: Thin Veil

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Posted by on in collaborating, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 10, 2025- Someone close to me mentioned feeling a very strong presence, while in great discomfort a few days ago. There was a clear voice that said to stretch fully, and upon doing so, relief was felt almost immediately. This person was physically alone.

I have heard a voice, on occasion, usually telling me to get up. Since I live alone, it is quite apparent that a spirit guide is making sure I get to where I need to be. More subliminally, I get messages regarding which route I should take, when on the road, or even on routine drives back from the next town over. Once, the seemingly oddball route that was recommended took me by a lemonade stand, where the girls were raising money to buy their father a birthday gift. That was well worth the detour.

We are not separated from the departed by atmosphere and ionosphere. It is basically a matter of: We need a physical body in this life, and we don’t need one in the next. Higher level, to my understanding, refers to the level of functioning of a spirit, once released from the body. It is only a slight veil that separates us. I have felt departed relatives, and my late wife, Penny. Ironically, one afternoon while she was bedridden at home and we had taken a nap, she awoke before me and told me that she had seen my ancestors standing over me. I am certain she is doing the same now.

In what is probably a hybrid of spiritual promptings and common sense, I have determined it’s best to hold off on a planned San Diego visit, next week, as the weather forecast calls for more Santa Ana winds in that area, on the days I was planning to be there. I will head down to southern Arizona instead, and the days in March when I would have gone there will likely be a better time to go to SoCal.

The veil is thin enough, that we can get fine guidance, if we keep intuition keen.

The Road to Diamond, Day 42: I (We) Also Served

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 9, 2025- The teacher was effusive, in thanking me for having served as a postal worker, while in the United States Army from 1969-72. He himself had been a medical technician, and while remaining stateside, he did have his share of trauma, by working with those who came back from the First Gulf War with horrific third degree burns. Even stateside, he needed contact with family and friends at home-and mail was a key part of that. He was also, however, thanking me on behalf of all those who barely made it back-and some who never recovered.

A rather high percentage of those who serve in the Armed Forces-Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, National Guard and the inchoate Space Force, do so in a noncombatant capacity. They (we) certainly have been trained in the essentials of the combat arms. Every postal clerk, medic, chaplain, cook, motor pool mechanic, musician, computer technician, orderly room clerk and financial specialist knows how to assemble, fire, disassemble and clean a firearm. Their (our) essential duties, though, are in support of the infantry and artillery units, the fighter pilots and crews of destroyers and attack submarines.

I was, personally, glad to have spent time in the mail room at Fort Myer, the accountable mail cages in Long Binh and Cholon, and to pitch in when it came time to unload the Sealand trailer, with its bulk mail. I pulled perimeter guard duty, about five times at Long Binh- and while I never saw any suspicious movement in the field of surveillance, just being there in case of that one possible incident was important to me. I had, and have, my reservations about the regime that our military was supporting, but that did not get in the way of how I went about any assigned task. None of my tasks involved killing anyone, so that made it easier. I’m not sure how I would be today, had it been necessary to kill or maim, in the line of duty. As it was, though, I (we) also served.

The Road to Diamond,Day 41: Unpredictable

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

January 8, 2025- The ongoing saga of people settling in and around Los Angeles, for either a life of leisure or for pursuit of a fine, active regimen, and finding that Mother Nature has other ideas, has reached crisis proportions even more dire than in any past year. Perhaps it is due to the increased density of population, from even the 1990s-2010s, or just a consequence of rising global temperatures, but it seems worse.

Here at Home Base I, there was a brief period of snow, in the higher elevations, southwest of town and in the Santa Marias, to our northwest, but here in the downtown area, just a few sprinkles fell, late last night. We, like, California, are facing a Big Dry-at least until March. There is, of course, plenty of water-on paper, but I digress. The ultimate test of hydration for a community is if the taps start to trickle. Who knows if and when that will happen.

Life on the ground here remains fairly predictable, but on the larger scale, we may be seeing seismic changes, in short order, and it feels at times like the news cycle is whipsawing, back and forth. I have learned, though, that as long as the markets are open and there are no manufactured crises hitting too close to home, that we can each do our civic duty, show kindness to others-especially those most vulnerable and continue to speak our peace.

These things came to mind, this afternoon, as we considered another strange and unsettling time in our recent past: September, 2001. The teacher recalled his own experiences during that time, as a security guard in Phoenix. His wife was working in the tallest building in the city, at that time. He made a beeline to get her home, as soon as he saw what had happened in New York and at the Pentagon. In my case, I had no work that day, but heard over the radio about the first tower strike and also headed straight home, being glued to the TV screen most of the day. Penny and Aram went to their respective schools, which were let out early, as many parents were beside themselves, with “what ifs” and doomsday scenarios. I was just as glad they came home.

Stay aware, friends, and stay close to those you love-in California, in the frigid eastern half of the country and anywhere else that may be suffering in this winter of heightened challenge.