Refinement

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December 28, 2023, Moriarty, NM- I made a short visit to the Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi, at the south end of Santa Fe Plaza, before leaving town after a lunch at Creperie, in La Fonda Hotel. My visit focused on the Meditation Garden, sitting silently before the statue of the teenaged Mother Mary, and pondering how to properly go forth, in a refined state, on a certain matter. Statues are not spirits, of course, and an icon cannot proffer wisdom. There is, however, energy about-both that which was put into the casting or sculpting of the figure and that which emanates from the person or being who inspired the statue.

These last few days of 2023, and the first four months of the coming year, are largely about refinement- of my present friendships, of my household and of my activities in the community. Friends from whom I had felt estranged, over the past year or so, have reached out and asked me to visit them again. I have no reason to not do so. Another, far away physically, but ever on my mind, will be more the focus of a long game-with patience, thoughtful communication and, above all, unflagging respect for what she might be facing, day to day. 

The main focus of the day was a visit with a friend who is recovering from injury. I found her house fairly easily, and although it is in a rural area, off a dirt road-the road was graded and the dirt driveway represented no problem for Sportage, as the mud was frozen. My visit, to ascertain when I could best transport her to her winter home, led to two hours of conversation about affairs of our Faith. I will return, in mid-January, after a week-long work project, at Ghost Ranch, about an hour away form her home-and spend the latter part of the MLK Day weekend, with said transport.

I was able to drive here, to some friends’ establishment, and a large, comfortable room-as is usual at Lariat Motel. Tomorrow, after checking in on another of the young women I regard as daughters, I will head back to Home Base 1.

2024, in my view, will certainly be a year of action, following this past year of reflection. In my case, a lot of that reflection occurred while I was on my feet-so upcoming activities deserve to be done in a state of refinement. No bulls in this china shop!

Immersed

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December 27, 2023, Santa Fe- As I left my car this morning, to visit one of my favourite Santa Fe establishments, Henry and the Fish, a woman was strolling through the parking garage, singing Abba’s I Have A Dream. What a lovely start to the morning, I thought, and a rarity in American life! Joe and the kids will be on vacation, when I get back here in two weeks, en route to Ghost Ranch, so I’m glad to have visited HATF, this morning.

I’ve felt immersed in love, all in all, over the past few years, but at no time more so than in these last three months. It’s not just the romantic feelings I have for someone, but the general tide of love-from friends and family. This month has brought an estranged friend back into my life-and a realization that the estrangement would not have happened, had both of us communicated better. Isn’t that usually the case?

This evening, after exercising at Santa Fe’s Planet Fitness, I happened upon a Vietnamese restaurant, Pho Ava. I haven’t had pho in a while, so in I went. A number of the other guests were Filipinos, so I was transported back to Manila, in my mind. A pleasant random gesture was that, as a Filipino-American family was leaving, the father wished me a good evening-though we had not otherwise communicated. It’s been that sort of a visit, thus far. That, to me, is Santa Fe-ever a third or fourth Home Base, after Prescott, Grapevine-and Ocean Beach. The pho at Ava is excellent, if you are in Santa Fe and want a nice, large bowl of hot soup. (Pho Ava is in the 2400 South block of Cerrillos Road.)

Now, I will join a Full Moon meditation site, and get centered for tomorrow, which may or may not mean a drive up to Taos- depending on a friend’s situation. In the meantime, here’s that song that the lady in the garage was singing.

Single Digits and Hundreds of Petroglyphs

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December 26, 2023, Santa Fe- It was 6 F, about ten miles south of Chevelon Butte, along the road between Payson and Winslow, at 6:30, this morning. By the time I reached Winslow, the heat had kicked in and it was a balmy 21 F. Gallup offered 19 degrees and Albuquerque, 37.

Along the route, I saw two coyotes sprinting across the highway, between Stoneridge and Crossroads, in Prescott Valley and, much later, two pronghorns gamboling in the desert, just east of the Rio Puerco Casino, outside Albuquerque. Police were along the highways in force, especially in the early morning hours, when I was driving in darkness. Passing the upended hulk of a wrecked semi-trailer, I felt grateful for their presence.

The main focus of the day, though, was on petroglyphs, the communication medium of pre-writing societies, in many parts of the world. Albuquerque’s Petroglyph National Monument, in the Duke City’s northwest corner, offers hundreds of descriptive figures, in three main clusters. The first, just south of the small Visitor Center, is Rinconada Canyon. This sector features a 2.2 mile loop trail, which took me about 45 minutes, a good part of which was spent noting the depicted animals and people.

West Mesa, at Petroglyph National Monument, Albuquerque.
Easternmost petroglyphs of Rinconada Canyon.
In the upper left hand corner, two beady eyes peer out from a small rock.
This collection reminded me of Newspaper Rock, south of Gallup.
The artists used pigment from plants, to add luster to some of their glyphs, chipping off the naturally-occurring lacquer and applying pigment to the bare stone underneath.
Two fish, a festal cup and a star adorn this rock.
This basalt ledge is one of many that served as a grinding table.
Spanish explorers added their art to the rocks. This “patriarchal” cross is one of many found in the West Mesa rock forest.
Here is an example of a figure that gives rise to speculation about extraterrestrial visitors. Puebloans caution against such speculation, saying we cannot know, for certain, what the ancients had in mind when these scenes were painted.

I went on, to Boca Negra (“Black Mouth”) Canyon. Here, there are three trails: The short Macaw Trail, the moderate Cliff Base and the “strenuous” Mesa Point Trail, which was easily climbed by a three-year-old girl, along with the rest of the group.

Mesa Point Trail:

At the base of Mesa Point, there is quite an assortment of figures.
Mesa Point’s own newspaper.
Looks like Gingerbread Man, with a robot t-shirt!

Here are scenes along Cliff Base Trail

Pupal scorpion?
“Greetings, future ones” ?
Fearsome mask?
One last newspaper clipping

I took a breather, to put gas in Sportage and fuel in my tank-at Which Wich, an innovative shop that uses a combination of technology and “check-off” paper bags, which the diner fills out and the attendant uses, in making the customized sandwich. 

Last, but not least, was Piedras Marcadas Canyon, which co-exists with several housing developments, yet seems a world away, once one is on the trail. There are two options here: Petroglyph View Trail, which goes directly to the scenes, and North Rim Trail, which goes to the top of the mesa-sans petroglyphs. I took the former route.

“Bob” couldn’t help himself. I’ve felt that way, but never given in to the carving impulse.
Here is a more “conventional” astrophysical image.
Finally, a “family” portrait.

There are many more scenes, which will be on my Flickr site, but you get the message(s).

Successive and Progressive

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December 25, 2023- The parking lots were mostly empty; the stores mostly closed and the churches were at least half full, as one of the quietest days of the year played out.

Much of the world took a breather today, in observance of Christmas-celebrating the birth of Jesus the Christ. Although, some archaeologists and historians point to March or April, as a more likely time for the actual event. the die had long been cast, for the cusp of Solstice, by the time the experts had formulated their alternative theory. So, it remains that December 25, or January 7, by the Julian Calendar used by Eastern Orthodox reckoning, is the day on which Christ is acknowledged as having come into the world.

A friend mentioned that there were long lines, to enter restaurants, in her home area. There was a long line at the Solid Rock Food Pantry, where I finished my day by wiping pots, pans and trays-after they’d been washed. There was no line at Hiking Buddy’s house, where six of us dined on roast pork loin, scalloped potatoes, and tender asparagus. The lights at Courthouse Square have no lines walking around to see their affirmation of civic life. There was a line, for selfies, in front of the gazebo, but I am past that stage.

The gatherings of families and friends, across the globe, are taking a breather of their own, now-before it starts up, though to a lesser degree , as the transition of calendar years is celebrated, next weekend. Each successive year has similarities to those before, and immediately after, its play-out. There is often the sentiment-“I am so over_______. ________can’t come fast enough.” The same sentiment is then repeated, as the next year, in turn, winds down.

We are, however, making progress-individually, communally and as a species. The guidance that comes from the Divine expects no less of us. Yes, there are fall backs, and reversals, but just like a financial decline, these are followed by a resurgence, and steps forward-often bringing forth cultural and technological advances that have not been anticipated. People are, by and large, more resistant to War Culture and Patriarchy. More force has to be applied to support those antiquated notions. The rollbacks, even when temporarily successful, cannot themselves be sustained over time.

Each succeeding Divine Messenger brings renewed respect and understanding of the Predecessor’s Teachings. Each also brings the exhortation to advance in our understanding of some practices-giving up some of them and taking on others. Thus, Christ told His followers that divorce was, for the most part, no longer permitted and that eating shellfish and pork were no longer taboo. Baha’u’llah has, in turn, called for eschewing those social practices that relegate women to second class status or that encourage a social hierarchy, based on race, class or age. The parochial structure, so necessary in a world rising out of famine and plague, is being superseded by a structure that calls for character and responsibility, as determinants of social rank, to the extent this is even necessary.

Each time a new Message comes from the Divine, it is worth honouring the Light that brought the Message. Today, people of all faiths honoured Christ’s Light.

Rain and Heartshine

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December 23, 2023- Whilst drumming under a canopy, last night, our little circle felt drips, then trickles and after a bit, the maintenance volunteer announced that water was pooling on the canopy. Mindful of the safety hazard, as well as the discomfort of being showered, we moved under the wooden-roofed porch of the small ”omnivore’s” restaurant, at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch. (The other eatery here is a vegan establishment.) I thought of the old Three Dog Night song, “Never Been to Spain”, written by Hoyt Axton,and added my own lyric to its musing: ”Well, I’ve never been to Woodstock, but I’m here at Kelly’s Cottage…”

Drum and Didge circle, “Reconnecting the Soul”, at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson

Some of us then adjourned to the basement of the Main House, for a Cacao Ceremony, which I described in the last post. Here is a photo of that scene.

“(Hu)Man Cave”, Main House at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson

I turned in, upstairs in Main House, making a little sleeping space for myself, behind a couch in the living room. The lights stayed on, as a gamer was in his element, on the couch, and the vegan chef was prepping his breakfast fare. Being me means going with the flow, so with a blanket covering head to toe, I drifted off.

This morning came, quietly, as non-work mornings do. I found that the ranch is close to the foot of South Mountain, Phoenix’s great southern boundary of old. (It’s been circumvented, and surrounded, by the spreading community), still retaining its majesty.

South Mountain, from Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson
South Mountain, from Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson
Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, in daylight.

After helping the “Man Cave” ( I call it Human Cave.) crew move some furniture around, I headed back up to Prescott, so as to stop in at Zeke’s, for an early lunch and to wish the ladies a Merry Christmas. Then, it was over to Farmers Market, for quick grocery shopping and helping to put the tents, weights and furniture away. Lots of hugs came today, including from a couple I hadn’t seen in over a year. I found out why they had been distant: Child # 6 was in Mama’s arms, serene and already cautious about strangers-at four months. Wishing one and all a Merry Christmas, we finished breakdown at 2:10, and I promised to be back for the New Year’s Eve day market.

This evening was spent at Rafter Eleven, listening to renditions of several meaningful tunes, including back-to-back love songs- Lonestar’s “Baby, I’m Amazed by You” and Garth Brooks’ “The Dance”. The first reflects how I feel towards someone now and the second, always evocative of Penny and our time together. Of course, back when the first song was released, I was definitely amazed by her. It was 1999, and we had every reason to think our time together had years to go. Once the music was done, I wished Dawn, her daughters and the baristas Merry Christmas, and a safe holiday week and back to Home Base it was.

It’s foggy tonight, and very dark. Coming out of a store, after picking up my last holiday gift, it took a while to find my car, in the fog and darkness. The Google Maps application was no help, just going around in a circle-upon which the spirits took over , and guided me to Sportage, in seconds flat. All ends well with their assistance.

Consciousness Rising

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December 22, 2023, Tolleson, AZ- For a long time, I have wondered why I can sense things so intensely, as they are happening, and sometimes before they happen. Extra-sensory perception seems a trite phrase, anymore. I have dreamed of people coming into my life, before they appeared, seen other people’s deaths, as much as a year before they passed, and sensed, as many of you know, instructions from the spirit world, as to what course of action I should follow, and where.

This evening, I joined in several consciousness-raising activities, starting with a Cacao Ceremony, which honours the humble cacao pod and all it brings to humanity-from cacao powder itself to fine chocolate. The origins of the ceremony are west African, but it is now conducted in parts of Central America as well. It reminded me of a documentary I once saw on tribal people in south India celebrating the ripening of wild mango, with drumming and singing.

Speaking of drumming, I was so spirited in my drumming, with a circle this evening, that the cover of the drum stick flew off, and will now have to be secured with tighter string! I haven’t felt that much energy in a drum group, in a long time. There were about eight of us drummers, plus two didgeridoo players and two mouth accordionists. It was a joyful noise!

A lady showed us a game, in which tarot cards are read and an activity is described on the tarot card. The group then does the activity. Everyone is a winner,in this game. I met the leader of a consciousness raising group that meets in Prescott. She invited me to join, and I may well take her up on that, as well as inviting my Hiking Buddy to join as well. 

All in all, this final activity of solstice time has strengthened my understanding of my own heightened consciousness, going forward. It also reminds me of Convergence at Arcosanti, which I’ve missed, these past three years.

Least Light

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December 21, 2023- Least light, across the northern hemisphere, is not a nadir.       It is an anchor, along with its mirror counterpart, most light,across the southern realm.    It offers us the hope of resilience, in the minute-by-minute lengthening of daylight.     It brings us the sights, sounds and feels of nature taking a rest, before it burst forth anew.    It offers us the vision of Mother Earth in a balancing dance with our nurturing Sun and her sister planets, with their own moons, even as the Sun prepares to rage for another eighteen months.                                       I had the pleasure of ringing in the solstice, this evening, as Galactogogues, a Prescott band, launched their first album, at our venerable Elks Theater. The family group-mother Meg Boehrman and her three adult children, along with their extended family, drummer and violinist, have kept local fans on our feet, during many performances at the Raven Cafe and some of Whiskey Row’s more genteel bands. It took me a bit of time to feel enough a part of things to get up and dance, but it happened. A friend, Ken, was inspired by my efforts and danced a bit, in his own space, for a few minutes. Someone else, with whom I recently had a dispute, was also there, but I am done with letting anyone’s presence deter me from following my heart. Meg, in the midst of being greeted by the social elite, told me she was glad for my presence. That was inspiration enough to get up and be a part of things.

Now, getting ready for a night’s rest, before the last day of school for 2023, I am listening to the inspiring, and formidable, Buffy Ste. Marie, offering her vision for the future, through songs that propel a 24-Hour Online Dance. I will not be dancing, but will sleep well, knowing that people like Buffy are charging forth, for the betterment of humanity.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7f_Tk5bD40

On Boundaries

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December 20, 2023- One of my online writer friends posted, this morning, on the subject of boundaries. Going over both the setting of one’s own boundaries, respecting the boundaries of others and handling those who invade one’s safe spaces, she sparked my own review of past and present behaviours in this area.

When rebounding from Penny’s passing, I gave vent to delusions of having feelings for a couple of women. The first, gently and firmly set me straight on the matter, we parted on civil terms. She is still a friend- and thankfully, is happily married to a fine man. The second is also still one of my best friends, here in Prescott, having set her boundaries early on.

Then, there were those who invaded my space: A homeless man, who did not ask for much more than rides here and there, and assistance with getting established in another town. I was able to help him, and after a year or so, he dropped off the radar screen. A few years later, a well-meaning friend tried to “fix me up” with a woman, who had serious emotional issues and who quickly turned out menacing, even using her thoughts to try and wreck my life-health-wise and in terms of employment. I lost my job, while she had parked her RV in a public area, a block from my apartment. Curiously, on the day that I was fired, she got in the rig and drove away. I cut off all contact with her, have recovered and am living nicely. There was a disturbed young man, who messaged me, continuously, for six months, often sending up to 50 voice messages a day, most of which I deleted, though I listened and tried to understand his issues. I cut off contact with him, after he sent a message attacking the memory of my late wife. Finally, there was the African entrepreneur, who initially appeared to be making a good faith effort to build a life for himself and his family. I connected him with agencies and organizations that could offer real, constant assistance-but he became attached to asking for more money from me-for matters that were not directly connected to the initial investment. I cut him off completely, after about four months of begging on his part.

Now, I have strong, enduring friendships, in a good many states and Canadian provinces, and in three other countries. There will be, I’m sure, more to follow. I have strong feelings for a good woman, who I met two months ago, and am taking care to honour her boundaries and not coming across like a bull in a china shop. The fact that we are an ocean apart makes this a bit easier, but when I see her again, the same respect will continue.

Boundaries, like other aspects of a disciplined, organized and centered life, ensure that one may live in happiness and success.

No Doldrums This Time

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December 19, 2023-

When my day starts with a message from the human being I love most dearly,

when my efforts on behalf of a group of children are acknowledged and appreciated,

when I am able to listen to a presentation by a highly-esteemed spiritual teacher,

when my little nest egg continues to show the security that enables me to live in service,

when many of those I also love dearly continue to show up in this humble life, and provide affirmations,

when I can honestly say that affirmations from within myself arise much more readily,

when I see that at least some in power are acknowledging, and working towards relief of, the pain being meted out to the homeless (both military veterans AND civilians), the dispossessed from the Global South, the victims of the Lahaina fires, the refugees in Gaza, the refugees in Darfur, those who suffered losses in weather-related events this week, those displaced in Iceland,

I feel no doldrums, this December.

Inside Out

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December 18, 2023- A spiritual leader among First Nations peoples referred, at a meeting this evening, to the difference between religion and spirituality. He noted that spirituality comes from within a soul. Religion, as it is often practiced, is an external force that is either voluntarily adopted by the soul or is imposed on it, by prevailing social forces. He further noted that it does not have to be this way, pointing to those religious teachers who stress leaving the adoption of their Founder’s teachings up to the individual, through an emphasis on individual investigation of truth. This places the responsibility, in my view, where it belongs. Force only works as long as it is applied. When it is removed, those who have lived under a yoke, so to speak, will go off on all manner of tangents-including campaigns of force all their own.

It took me nine years of investigation and internal wrangling, before I recognized the Baha’i Teachings as the Divine Message for this Day. Others are free to follow their own path, and I count, as dear friends, men and women of all faiths-from Fundamentalist Christianity to Wiccan, and in-between. Baha’is tend to know my heart better than most, my Christian siblings being an exception. My point here is that, like a house that is built by its owner, the spiritual fortress of a soul is best which fits the soul’s true needs-and only that soul can really know what those needs are. 

As we move forward, through a time that is fraught with challenges, and filled with opportunities, both scheduled and serendipitous, let’s remember to show reverence for one another’s dignity and worth. Let us be open to knowing another’s true heart-inside and out.