January 7, 2025- The animated teacher spoke of a calamitous event in our nation’s recent history. He wanted to remind the adolescent students, themselves only vaguely aware of that particular incident, just how fleeting such memories can be, and how easily they can be manipulated by those with ulterior motives. This conversation will continue tomorrow, and perhaps for several more days.
The freedom we have in this country is worth cherishing. So are the love and friendship that have been built, sometimes over decades. So are the gifts that the Divine has imparted to each of us. I thought of these things all day, as once again, I was placed in a setting where I could focus on one or two students at a time, and key in on the boy or girl and specific needs. I will do this for the next two days, as well. Part of the task is to support the teachers in their explanations and foci. Thus do I go forward.
In an evening orientation, for a Baha’i family who are moving to one of the Native American communities where Penny, Aram and I once lived, I also focused on what is cherished by First Nations people. There are friends in that area who I have not seen for several years and others from whom I hear, every so often. The reality, though, is that were I to return to the place, I would be at least welcomed by some, as if I had never left. That is what I wish for this new family, provided they open their hearts to the people.
I will likewise always cherish the friendships I have made here in the Prescott area, over nearly fifteen years. Regardless of what transpires, these next several months, this will always be a Home Base of my heart. The same will be true of the Philippines, no matter how things turn out on my next visit.
Life is for the cherishing, not for the expectancy.
January 6, 2025- The day in Washington came and went, with scarcely a murmur. The will of the people, albeit by way of plurality, was acknowledged and for the second time in our nation’s history, the losing standard bearer of a major party was the person certifying the election of a rival. Albert Gore, Jr. did that very thing, on 1/6/01 and Kamala Harris did so today. The institution of the American republic, a form of democracy, was the winner.
It made me think of other institutions: Parenthood, grandparenthood, marriage, community, corporation, formal education, personhood. Each has its rules and practices, which are its underpinnings. Those who challenge any one of the institutions, on its face, are exhibiting an inclination towards mayhem. That does not mean that the institution should be impervious to change. Our Constitution is replete with the amendment process, for the very reason that the government of 1788, or 1861, cannot possibly address all the needs of 2025. Familial institutions, likewise, have the duty to their members, to regularly communicate across the roles of parent, spouse, child, sibling-and even grandparent, so that the personhood of any given member is not trampled or sacrificed.
In the institution of the school, there is a trust between teacher and student. Today, my role as substitute teacher was a special position of trust: A new semester, a new term, was starting. The regular teacher had a last minute emergency, and though today was the start of a major activity, his life had to take its course. I was able to dust off the cobwebs of my technological savvy and get the basic activities started. The task in question was a vocational education exercise, which will last for two weeks. Those who recognized its import-the majority of students, thankfully, set themselves to the task, some choosing to work in small groups and others on their own. Thus are the members of one institution, the school, beginning to prepare for membership in another, the workforce.
It remains my honour to offer support to institutions, holding up their traditions when the good of the order warrants and working to effect change, when the converse is true.
January 5, 2025- I have listened to two very different takes on this calendar year. The one, of which I wrote yesterday, was made with a hokey presentation but came across as very hopeful, though it involved other galaxies and beings of questionable status. The second, made by a cosmic advisor who is very much grounded in reality, pointed out that this is a year of simultaneous endings of old relationships and processes, and beginnings of new ones. 2024 was certainly a dress rehearsal for that, with the passing of my mother and several longtime friends. The speaker this morning said to remain grounded in a strong soulship, and not to be depressed or downhearted by any rapid changes in relationships, even if they are with those dearly loved. Other relationships and processes will replace those that end. Most importantly, she said it was never necessary to channel energy externally. All the strength one needs is within.
I reflected on my life up to now, not in a rigid decade-by-decade manner, but in terms of actual cycles. 1950-1964 was a time of firsts, and of thinking that I didn’t deserve a whole lot. So, when I did get nice things, I used them for a short time, then set them aside, except my books and records. Bicycles, weight sets, even a junior chemistry set, all were used just a bit, then set aside in the closet or downstairs, or in the case of the bikes-given to my siblings. I didn’t think I deserved friends, and so spent much time alone. It wasn’t until that became counterproductive, in eighth grade, that I started to rethink the matter.
1964-1968, the high school years, was a time of discovering the love I had for other people. Though I still regarded myself as unworthy (a sense that would be my shadow until fairly recently), grades were kept up, school events like dances drew me out and I worked at a job or two, with minimal success.
1969-1980 was a period of self-loathing. I functioned, but just barely, serving in a position of fair responsibility in the U.S. Army; earning Associate and Bachelor Degrees, being in the middle of my class in each; and working at both teaching and a smattering of part-time jobs, while still not exactly excelling at any of them.
1981-1997 was a high water mark. I earned a Master’s Degree, met and married my first true love, sired and raised a child, and actually made a difference in my professional work. Much of this came about because I embraced the Baha’i Faith, and in turn, embraced sobriety. The self-loathing was still there, but kept under wraps.
1998-2013 found me floundering again. My beloved was suffering and in declining health, and I was facing my own demons, though maintaining sobriety, helping our son navigate adolescence and fend off those who wanted to hurt him, and acting as my wife’s caretaker. Jobs came and went, but substitute teaching was my saving grace, and kept us with food on the table and a roof over our heads. For two years after Penny died, my struggles continued, until I finally began to regard myself as worthy of true self-respect.
2014-2024 has been another period of rising. I have rediscovered our country and the world, established genuine friendships and gained the respect of those who knew me when. Public service, mostly volunteer work, has helped me feel like a worthy part of a community. Most importantly, though, my self-loathing is gone. In maturity, I have faced down five people who tried to take away my self-esteem and embraced those who truly have my best interests at heart.
This year finds me at a crossroads. Someone dear to me may, or may not, be part of my future. She has her own path to follow. Either way, I am in a good place and am ready for whatever comes-continuity or seismic change. Never again will I blame myself, or anyone else, for what comes to pass. Everyone is on a journey all their own, and each deserves support from the others.
I briefly considered including Frank Sinatra’s song, “Cycles”, with this post. It doesn’t quite sum up my mood though. Instead, here’s Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”.
“Know thou that every fixed star hath its planets, and every planet its creatures,whose number no man cancompute”.– Baha’u’llah, “Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, page 163
January 4, 2025- In the film, “Down and Out in Beverly Hills” (1986), a Native American man casts aspersions, in no uncertain terms, on those who would not think of leaving home without their credit cards. I don’t leave home without my wallet, so maybe Tom-Tom would get on my case. Whatever. I do, however, leave my phone behind, when on short in-town errands, on weekends.
What few of us leave behind, though, is our spirit, our basic self. This evening, I watched a You Tube video by a woman who said she was channeling a spirit from another realm. I did this out of curiosity, as to what the being could possibly say that would mesh with what Baha’u’llah teaches , regarding the future of humanity.
While the woman used a carnival fortune teller voice, during her channeling, and frequently referred to the interstellar messengers as “ETs”, rather than their galactic or stellar origins, she did hit on several points that Baha’u’llah mentions: The worn-out institutions of human society are collapsing, and a new, more equitable, planet-wide society will slowly, but steadily begin to emerge, this year, as more of us have a better sense of the light (spiritual power) within us. As more people realize their spiritual power, conflict will abate, and still others will develop their light power. Christians know this as “the Kingdom of God on Earth”, and Baha’is certainly concur with that notion. She told her viewers that we would do well to not pay much mind to the collapsing institutions, save to survive and focus on the positive energy that was rising.
An interesting analogy was made, noting that the power of water on Earth is gradually being released, as ice melts. Ice was likened to the pent-up, unused potential of each person. As ice melts, so does our potential get tapped for optimum use. That is a positive spin on climate change. I do sense a different energy, these past four days, and see a good many people are showing positive vibes. There seems more common sense, efficiency and heightened intuition, at least around town. While I don’t need a fortune teller to clue me in on these matters, I’m glad we’re on the same wavelength.
Tom-Tom aside, let’s not leave home without our essentials.
January 3, 2025- The first box of books went to Prescott Public Library’s “Friends of the Library” book sale. A second box will go there, either tomorrow, or Monday, after work. Some other books will be offered to a friend and still others will go to my little family, when I visit them in April.
It takes a lot for this lifelong bibliophile to let go of any literary work. Storage and shipping, though, are reality checks-and if a oenophile I know and love can let go of a wine collection, I can do the same with my books. Other items will also be dispensed-either donated or sold at a discount, by the end of April.
To be clear, I remain in good health, so a curtain call is not the reason for this shedding. It’s the energy that says a move is in the air. Whether to one place or to another is still to be determined, but the call is getting more insistent. I’m happy in Home Base I, yet there is much more to do, on a wider scale. Details will be released as I get a clearer sense.
As for today, I visited another place where the staff seem unified and appreciated: Theodore’s Fine Foods, a bagel and croissant eatery that has moved into a corner lot that has had problems retaining its tenants, since a long-time restaurateur retired in 2014. T’s looks like it will be successful. Its bagel sandwich menu is small, but imaginative, and I enjoyed a Turkish bagel with sofra sausage. T’s sweet treats include a cruffin, which is a croissant muffin, that has a custard filling. The place was quite full while I was there, affirming that it is making a go of success.
My soon-to-be minimalist status in Prescott will nonetheless continue on a cheerful and welcomed note.
January 2, 2025- The family enjoying lunch across the dining room from me extolled the virtues of the four-man crew who were tending the counter and kitchen. State 48 Barbecue’s owner was delighted at the good review, and pointed out that the men were hired, while working on rehabilitation. She makes it a point to place trust in those who are making an effort, in that regard.
I am most heartened that there are places that give people who have struggled a second chance. The bar, of course, must be held at a consistent level, and seeing the joyful, grateful attitude of the crew, I think they will make a go of it. Each of them is singing a new song, one of fortitude, and compassion for self and others. That attitude is reflected in the name of the home where they live. It is also reflected in the quality of the food. The owner herself sings this song of fortitude and compassion.
The reflection of one’s work as an act of service, indeed of worship, is a central tenet of many faiths and is continued in Baha’i tradition, as well. It has certainly made any work I’ve done, in the past forty years, a lot more meaningful. I struggled on occasion, to maintain focus, but on balance, the song has been one of harmony. Seeing this in the well-regarded businesses, where both workers and patrons are valued, just reaffirms my own commitment to keeping the bar high.
January 1, 2025- The format of the opening gives its message loud and clear: This is a place where YOU decide to go forward, or not. The half-gate, in Coconino National Forest, behind Sedona Red Rock Junior/Senior High School, offers entry to trails leading up Scheuerman Mountain and along the Scorpion-Pyramid route. Hiking Buddy and I chose to do the Scheuerman.
The gate that isn’t a gate.
So began the Year of the Open Gate. What I do this year is totally open-ended. I have plans and goals for the the first four weeks of the year: Spend next week working, in Prescott schools; visit friends in San Diego and Orange County, the following week; focus on Racial Healing and Justice, during Martin Luther King Day and its preceding/following days.
It is the end of January and the first half of February though, that will set the tone and the agenda, for the rest of the year and beyond. I will be in the Philippines, from January 28-February 18. That could well be the precursor to a major change in my life. The central message of a show I just finished watching, (“The Outpost”), is that each of us is responsible for making wise and independent choices, but I knew that. We will see what choices are made at that time.
Regardless, this year will see me constantly on the move-no surprise there-and ever in the company of family and friends. Plan A involves one set of moves and downsizing. Plan B involves other travel, and still some downsizing. Details will come as we go along, for reasons of prudence. This is not a year for announcing grand plans ahead of time.
In closing, here are some scenes from Scheuerman Mountain and Vista.
The icons of Sedona: Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, Courthouse Butte, Chicken Point and Airport Mesa are all visible from Scheuerman Vista.
December 31, 2024- When I was around nine or ten, Fad would amuse us, on car trips, by going fast up a hill and over the crest, which would lead to an excited sensation on the way down. The roller coaster-like feeling was something that made my sister and I encourage him to keep doing it. He did, for a while, and then resumed being an adult, showing us that there is a time to be jovial and a time to be focused.
Life has been that way each year since. 2024 was a year of consummate gladness-My son finishing his baccalaureate studies and preparing to re-enter the work force; my being able to spend time with family in Massachusetts, Maine, Pennsylvania and Texas; visiting friends in California, Nevada, Texas, Illinois, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, British Columbia, Washington and Oregon; making new connections in St. Pierre & Miquelon and in each of the aforementioned places; and making deeper friendships in the Philippines.
There was a lot of loss this year, as well: My mother, our family’s rock for so many decades, rejoined her husband, parents, siblings and youngest son, marking an end to her physical chapter of 95 years, 9 months and 20 days. Three strong women of faith- Marcia Brehmer, Michele Smith and Lynne Elliott, also went back to their Lord, after doing their level best to teach their families and friends to love one another-and to love humanity, without exception. Four men- Joe Landrigan, Verne Rupright, Johnny Murphy and Lennie Maes, seminal figures from my youth, who served their country and went on to live lives of quiet distinction, answered their final call of duty. The nation, and the world, said goodbye to former U.S. President Jimmy Carter, to freedom fighter Alexei Navalny and to artists Donald Sutherland, Melanie Safka, Nikki Giovanni, James Earl Jones, Chita Rivera, Dame Maggie Smith, Kris Kristofferson, Toby Keith and Quincy Jones.
Our rainbows soared, and came back to their bases, this past year. I gained the ability to more firmly navigate these peaks and valleys, knowing that there is so much more to do, so many questions left to be answered and so many challenges that may yet arise. The year now ending has brought me strength.
December 30, 2024- As I listen to traditional Celtic folk tunes, a sense of the flow between permanence and impermanence comes into the ether. These songs have been around for over a thousand years, and have largely remained the same. A few clever musicians have tried to rework them into rock or jazz, but by and large, they have come across as too clever by half, and the songs endure as ever.
The same has been true of my life. The themes of quietly being in support of my parents, siblings, wife, child and friends and of walking in love for all about me have ever been present, even when in moments of false bravado, role confusion and lack of self-confidence or self-loathing, I presented different themes. My struggles, in my twenties and fifties, did not define me, instead bringing up baggage that needed to be cast off. In maturity, this song has also remained more like its original form.
Water does not let barriers prevent it from doing its prescribed tasks. It sometimes flows around, at other times over, or may even undermine the foundations of a barrier. Water takes materials along with it and is ever bound to head towards the ocean, to the whole.
It is the same with each of us. Fulfillment requires fluidity, transparency and use of other divinely-given properties. Water’s properties can be used for good, or for ill. The same is true for the properties of air, fire and mineral. We are, physically, a combination of water and mineral, so it is true of us as well. This is a contingent plane of existence, so we may choose good or ill. Just as water must sometimes change course, so must each of us, adapting to changes in circumstance, remaining fluid.
I have had these same thoughts at the end of every calendar year-and with the end of a given cycle. The year now ending has seen plenty of both; so, too, will the year that will shortly commence.
December 29,2024- The world said its first farewell to former President James Earl Carter, Jr., as he winged his flight to paradise, earlier today. His legacy was one of perseverance and his singularity of purpose was in public service. He was a micromanager and did not believe that public office entitled anyone to perquisites. I got that impression on Inauguration Day, 1977, when the President-elect and his Secret Service contingent walked from Blair House to the Capitol, so that he could take his oath of office. Everyone who called on him for breakfast at the White House paid for their meals. He kept a tight rein on the White House Tennis Court.
Practices like those disturbed many in Washington, and in Federal agencies across the country. In retrospect, a lot of the “swamp” characterizations of recent years could have been obviated, had Mr. Carter’s more reasonable management practices been incorporated into the operation of the Executive Branch, and by extension, the Legislative and Judicial Branches. How slowly we learn!
The high water mark of Jimmy Carter’s life came after he left the White House, with his tireless efforts on behalf of global health improvements and his advocacy of Habitat for Humanity, now a major force in providing housing for the disadvantaged. At an age when most people shun the climbing of ladders, there was Jimmy, feet firmly planted on the sixth or seventh rung, nailing boards to fascia and eaves. He was meticulous, in going up and down the ladder, in building techniques-and in teaching Sunday School, which he did continuously into his early 90s.
I remember thinking that maybe he was oversharing, talking about “lusting for women in his heart”, though he never acted on those urges. It then occurred to me that he meant it when he said “I’ll never lie to you.” He was true to Rosalynn, his wife of 77 years. He was, by all accounts, a gentle but firm father. He was a tireless public servant.
The tributes paid to President Carter, from across the political spectrum and from across the globe, attest to that tirelessness and to that honesty. May his achievements be indelible in our nation’s history and may he rest in peace.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 