October 5, 2023- So asked the little boy, as he tried to wiggle out of his car seat, with the door open, while he waited for his mother to return to the car. I saw my immediate task as making sure he did not manage to fall out of the car. So, my short answer was that I was a helper, whose job was to keep the children safe. That gave him something to ponder-and Mom came back a minute or so later.
Exactly what any of us are, is more spiritual than physical. We are spiritual beings having a physical experience. The physical body is a vessel, that lets us practice and develop spiritual attributes and resist, shed, those limitations borne of insecurity: Lust, greed, fear, rage, insincerity, envy-all that keep us down.
I am, essentially, a spirit living the life of a male human-and glad for every bit of it. That’s how I see myself. How the child mentioned above might see me is an entirely different matter-and based on my Dad’s contention that what people think of me is none of my business, a superfluous one at that. I would safeguard him, or any other child, as the need arises.
October 4, 2023- When I closed my eyes at this evening’s prayer meeting, I saw a cabin in the woods, with soft, multicoloured lighting outside. After a few more prayers were said, I closed my eyes in reverence again, and saw the dungeon where Baha’u’llah was imprisoned for four months, in 1852. The full meaning of these visions could play out, in terms of my being physically-present in those locations, at some point, or there could be some related meaning, that pertains to something else in my life.
Messages can have “one and seventy meanings”, according to any number of spiritual traditions, including the Teachings of Christ, and those of Baha’u’llah- Who goes further, ascribing such a distinction to every written word in Scripture. Indeed, any time I get an inspirational message about how to spend a day, where to work and where to visit, it takes some contemplation, beforehand and along the course of the day, to be sure that I am maintaining the intended course of action,
The message that came to me, three weeks ago, to accept this week’s work assignment, was very clear: “Do your level best for the two children who will be your primary focus, while also helping with anyone else who needs attention, especially if the classroom teacher is busy elsewhere or is overwhelmed.” This has prepared me for a few instances, such as lunch time, when there has been shortness of staff and I found myself serving as an adhoc monitor. It also falls into my long-held view that every educator in an institution of learning is responsible, to a degree, for the well-being of every student in that environment.
The message that came to me, back in May, regarding my journey to southeast Asia, was to focus strictly on the Philippines-that a longer journey to the region, involving more nations, would happen in a few years. Such guidance can always change, as situations evolve in various aspects of my life and in the wider world. Yes, the dynamics of aging and health are among those aspects-but for now, that part of my life is not fraught with issues. I have three focuses for the upcoming trip: Visiting a sponsored youth, connecting with the Baha’is and a few other friends, and paying homage to those who died at Bataan and Corregidor, as well as to Jose Rizal and,if time allows, Lapu-Lapu, whom I regard as a figure little known in the West-but every bit as important to history as the great chiefs of North America’s First Nations.
Over the next few days, I may receive further insight regarding the matter, but for now, the message is to focus on the children and correct an oversight on a financial matter, relative to health care I received one and two years ago.
October 2, 2023- Since the early 2000s, one of my favourite inspirational stories has been “October Sky”, a film adapted from the memoir, “Rocket Boys”. The account of West Virginia coal town youths, inspired by Sputnik I to build rockets of their own, with the support of their high school teachers and principal-and gradually earning the respect of their families, shows that each and every community can produce leaders of thought and invention.
I am working, this week, with a pair of boys who are identified as having special needs. One functions at a basic level; the other, is seen by his peers as a leader and is vibrant and inventive, far beyond his apparent weakness. He will, with strong support, like what he has from his present teacher, rise to enormous heights.
The mind is a superbly equipped vehicle for transcending even the most harrowing disabilities. Penny showed that, in 2006-9, by earning her third Master’s Degree, after being discounted by a far inferior individual-her last supervising principal. Her example has sustained my belief in the human spirit, and will be in my heart, as I meet in two weeks, with a young man I have sponsored for several years, through an international child advocacy agency. He is dedicated to achieving high honours academically and going on to be a credit to his family and community.
I have encountered many such people, across the United States, Canada and western Europe, since 2012. Encouraging them, even in brief encounters and in small ways, has been hugely rewarding. As the scope of my journeys expands, between now and January, 2029, and ongoing contact via Zoom and other virtual means continues, I hope to be able to impart stories of many other rising stars.
October 1, 2023- The air is supposed to be chill, tonight and tomorrow, followed, later in the week, by a few days of AUG-tober. Then the silly weather will subside, and we may expect that Home Base-Prescott, and hereabouts, will have a more conventional tenth month.
I will be at work, all week, helping two special needs children at a nearby elementary school. There will be other events awaiting in the evenings: Ecstatic dance (online), which I can join for an hour or so; a Healing Devotional; a Red Cross meeting; the tail-end of a Study Circle that I have been facilitating; and another early evening devotional. Saturday will see a Harvest Festival, as well as regular service activities.
Then comes the fourth journey of 2023- The Philippines, by way of California and Taiwan. More details will be shared, as the sojourn unfolds. Long story short, it will dominate October, and take me away from service activities here. This bothers some people, but my life has been about following messages from my spirit guides. Sometimes, that has meant staying in one place and being fastidious in meeting the needs of a few. Since 2011, though, it has meant being willing to go to certain places, connect with specific people and perform designated functions, from running Red Cross shelters here and there, to keeping children safe on Halloween, serving dinner to homeless people and sponsoring a child or two, in disadvantaged communities.
One such youth will be a focus of my time in the Philippines. Faith-based activities will take up much of the rest of my time there. My biggest hope is that a bond between Prescott and those blessed islands may be forged.
November and December will bring more work around here, holidays spent with family(Thanksgiving) and friends (Christmas and New Year’s) and another trip around the Sun completed. The Fourth Quarter is never dull-stay tuned.
September 30, 2023- The duo paid no mind to the wind that, off and on, gusted through the patio and blew a paper, a napkin or a ball cap away from its owner. The Bourbon Knights, at least the two remaining members, were too busy cranking out solid, vintage rock, to pay attention to such a mundane phenom as wind.
Their preference was playing the classic tunes of The Who, and when they got into the late riffs on “Baba O’Riley”, I half expected to see one of them break into an imitation of Pete Townshend’s Kazotsky kick. Alas, too much of their signature drink had found its way down their gullets, and they were content with their musical offerings, which remained solid. They also ranged from Stevie Nicks to Tom Petty.
This was the wild part of the evening at Rafter Eleven, where I went to close out the bittersweet month of September. Today would have been Penny’s 69th birthday, and true to form, not only one, but two Baha’i events got my attention, back to back. The Worldwide Celebration of Unity, of which I have written before, has taken its place in my Saturday morning routine. Only when I am not in a place where WiFi is accessible, do I beg off the task of co-hosting. The other event, which followed straightaway, was the annual Unit Convention, where Baha’is living in a designated area meet to elect a delegate to the National Convention, set for the following Spring, and consult about issues of import to the region and to the national community. I feel fortunate that the first event was able to be held at the Convention site, courtesy of the electoral tellers, who let me use their meeting room. Penny’s spirit, and my other ethereal guides, see to it that what needs to be done, finds a way.
A woolery is a place where the heavy cloth may be spun, carded and woven into the heavy cloth that is so comforting in cold weather. Our spiritual woolery is the Source of the guidance that comes from following those Spiritual Teachings that afford us protection, in the cold of challenges, tests and setbacks that are so commonly experienced in this life. So it was, both physically and emotionally chilly, at different times today, giving me reason to wear a woolen jacket, given me as a thank-you, by a once homeless man, who I helped for a time, nine years ago-and to seek solace in the Teachings of Baha’u’llah, when feeling the annoyance of people I normally help on Saturdays, who were left on their own today.
The day, and the month, ended well though. Even the country got a breather, from the political clashes that have played out, these past several weeks.
Here, for the curious, are The Who, and “Baba O’Riley”, though sans Kazotsky.
September 25, 2023- A co-worker on the serving line, this evening, was unequivocal about my sun shield cap. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you’re wearing that, around here”, he chortled, as I put the cap on, just before leaving. He pointed out that it did not cover my face, which was dabbed with sunscreen. The whole outburst was rather pointless, only signifying the need of so many, who style themselves as “normal” and anyone who acts differently as somehow off the mark, to reinforce their own, narrow perceptions. Fact is, though, my skin is safer from cancer with the cap and shield. Nothing else matters.
Earlier today, I had a good day covering mathematics classes at a nearby Middle School. The packet and subsequent online activity kept most students busy, through each class period. I was able to explain matters to those who wanted my help, and pair others with their peers,if they found that more comfortable. One boy was so busy trying to impress his pretty classmate, by goading me and trying to say that he thought I was stupid, that the predictable thing happened: After several minutes of abiding his shenanigans, she got up and moved to another part of the room. Most kids are more interested in bettering themselves and aren’t as invested in proving their “normality” as so many of us were, at their age.
Neurotypical and neurodivergent are actually traps, false dichotomies. I was raised to not try to either feed my autism-which wasn’t even recognized by that name, when I was a child nor to make excuses, based on having the condition. Those who claimed to be “totally normal” almost always found themselves at a breaking point. Those who just went through life, not bothering with judging others, most often were the most successful, at whatever they tried. In that sense, the secular mantra “You do you” makes a great deal of sense-as long as it doesn’t lead to total disengagement from one’s surroundings.
I, doing me, have a lot of social interaction and reasonable attention to others’ needs.
September 24, 2023- As I placed my portable chair down, amongst strangers, at this afternoon’s Peacebuilders concert, a pair of familiar faces zoomed past me, delighting in the warmth of an early autumn afternoon. The little boy, in an open shirt, with a smile as wide as the Atlantic, shrieked in delight, whilst his slightly older sister, in a proper full-length dress, was looking more towards re-joining her newborn brother on the family’s blanket. They didn’t recognize me, though somehow, their toddler sister did; it’s been almost two years since we’ve seen each other.
I have always been drawn to loving families, but they have not always been drawn to me. The brood in question is of a couple who are welcoming of older people, on occasion, but are very suspicious and formal, much of the time. We quietly drifted apart, two years back, and this was the first time I’d seen them all together, along with the children’s equally reticent nanny, since the last time I was at their residence. At that time, there was nothing to indicate I’d offended them, in any way. The distancing was just one of those happenstances that come about, for God knows what.
The gathering itself had the energy of “You came alone, so sit alone”. I broke free of that barrier, towards the end of the concert, and bounced, sore toe and all, to a lively German polka-offered by a group who are themselves very much welcoming to all who attend. Basically, though, New Age people here are a rather reticent, tight-knit tribe, perhaps because they find themselves surrounded by Cowboy Culture and a machismo that would deny free-thinkers their due. It takes almost as much energy to make friends among neo-Hippies as it did befriending people in small-town Maine. When one goes away for a time and comes back, as I do, it’s almost necessary to start all over again.
I will nonetheless keep showing up at community events, and performances at The Raven or Elks Theater, and let the New Agers’ energy flow, as it will. Sooner or later, the hermetic circle will melt, of its own. They will see that I mean them no harm.
September 21, 2023- I relaxed in Century Lounge, this morning, being greeted by another of the angelic presences who make life, both here and abroad, so affirming. It has been a rather carefree day-despite the presence of an angry panhandler, downtown, who has so far confined himself to making surly comments and thrusting his hand out to passersby. The authorities don’t seem to know quite what to do about him; after spending ten days in the County Jail, on unpublicized charges, he came right back here and resumed his demands. I am all for helping homeless people, and am in the serving line, each Monday evening. I am also hardwired to not kowtow to ad hoc authority figures or randomly demanding people. I recently lost a friend of over fifty years, for not loaning money. The stranger on the street is not going to be treated any differently.
There is an attitude of oppression in the wind-both in Congress and with the minders of our nation’s economic system. The mood seems to be “You will all make do with less-and like it.” That has been tried so many times in the past fifty-five years, and we, the common people, are still here. It will end the same, this time. We will hang together and the Big Dogs will get tired, go back to their scheming and hoarding, and the majority of us will survive, in place if need be. I want to be clear: This has nothing to do with ideology- the elite of all stripes are culpable. I, personally, leave them to themselves just follow the promptings of my spirit guides, as best as I know how.
I believe that downturns are mostly manufactured, contrived. There is way too much wealth that is either being horded or wasted; the same is true of nearly all resources. The only meaningful answer is taking the time to distribute resources equitably. That has never been very well understood, but is close to becoming an imperative.
September 20, 2023- Several tree branches graced the highway, between Winslow and Strawberry, leading us to stop and wait for fifteen minutes at a stretch, as one lane was open, and we took turns with oncoming traffic. At least this time, no one jumped the gun and refused to wait-unlike last year on Cape Breton, when a pick-up coming towards our traffic line challenged the lead vehicle-a semi-trailer. Guess who backed up five hundred yards?
Today’s episode led to a pushed -back chiropractic adjustment-which was no big deal. The evening Zoom meeting, which was the other reason for making sure I was back at Home Base-Prescott by this evening, was lengthy, but well-organized. These next three weeks need to be similarly focused, on my end at least. A fair amount of work is on tap and renewed attention to weight reduction, though this journey has not been as hard on that part of my life as it might have been. Connecting a few more dots on the Philippines trip needs to happen-so long as the plug is not pulled on TSA and the air traffic controllers, come October 1.
Recapping, the four-day Colorado East Baha’i Summer School provided spiritual grounding before I headed north and east. Laying a wreath at the grave of a fallen police officer was the other side of the coin from George Floyd World Square, where I stopped in 2021. A corollary visit to Oheyaw Ahi, land sacred to the Dakota people, was an added blessing. Visiting the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette is essential to me, personally, in ensuring both physical and spiritual well-being on any cross-country jaunt. My mother’s 95th birthday, though rather low-key, was the centerpiece of the drive. The birth of a grand niece, though I did not hang around and witness it, was as good a reason as any to stop in the beloved climes of southeast Pennsylvania, spend time with my newly relocated brother and sister-in-law, and of course stop in at Glick’s Greenhouse. It was also a reason to make homage to a much-loved cousin, who spent her final years in York, a place of considerable historical importance-as is its namesake in England. Visits with old friends in Crossville, TN and Amarillo topped off this year’s cross-country.
Other old friends were welcoming, in Wilmette, IL; Saugus, Bedford and Wilkes-Barre, PA; and Moriarty, NM. There were new friends made-in Luverne, MN; Toledo; Kittery, ME; Harrisburg; Marion, VA; Atoka, OK-and Amarillo. The most important, enduring feature of any journey, though, is the connection with family. At journey’s end, I can say that it, almost alone, determines the success or failure of the effort.
September 19, 2023, Moriarty- The clerk in the spanking new service station regarded me curiously, as I was putting a lid on the soup bowl I had just filled-“You’re in the right place. If you’re ready, this way please.” She is one of the archetypal personages who show up, whenever I am starting to feel befuddled. There are the cheerful Irish girl or woman with long black hair and a crinkled smile, the concerned Black man or woman who sets me straight-often without saying a word, and the slender, no-nonsense woman or girl with an air of self-confidence. The clerk was one of the latter, her understated message being”You need not doubt yourself. Go forward with confidence”. These archetypal persons are all souls that I seem to have met before.
After checking out of Palace Motel, I crossed the state line into Oklahoma, and saw “Welcome to the Choctaw Nation”. As many are aware, the record of the Federal government, with regard to what is now Oklahoma, is rather shoddy. Native Americans were forcibly removed from their lands in the Southeast, brought to this area and given small segments of what was then viewed as marginal land. Once oil was discovered, there was a land rush and races were held, to see who would grab “newly-opened” parcels of land. The Oklahoma Territory took the western 2/3 of Indian Territory, and the two were again joined, to become the State of Oklahoma, in 1907. It was from the days of the land rush that the term “Sooners”, or claim jumpers, was bestowed upon the citizens of Oklahoma.
I entered the Sooner State fairly early, and drove through Broken Bow, Idabel, Hugo and Durant, before heading northward, towards Atoka. These towns are all in Choctaw jurisdiction, and variously show signs of prosperity and sections that could use some love. The Choctaw seem to have used their resources rather well: Oil and casino resorts draw other enterprises. Atoka, in particular, is making strides to increase its draw as a business location. Along with Durant, it has established the commercial strips common to most regional hubs in North America.
As I began to feel like I was aimlessly meandering, a check of the GPS revealed that I was not all that far from Oklahoma City. It was lunch time, and the Pilot station offered comforting hot soup, along with a chicken sandwich-plenty good enough for a road meal. The above-mentioned clerk summoned me to her station, and conveyed a message of confidence. From there, I spotted a sign directing me towards Ada, a town where Penny and I stayed with friends, while she was recuperating from an illness incurred while traveling, in 1984. I knew that from Ada, it would be an hour or so to Oklahoma City, and relaxed enough to just pull into Atoka City Park, enjoying lunch, while admiring the lake that the city has constructed.
Atoka Lake (above and below)
The sky looked a bit ominous, and I would later hear from a friend elsewhere in Oklahoma, that her area had experienced severe downpours, with thunder and lightning. My drive was briefly interrupted, near Shawnee, when I drove into a speed trap-55 down to 40, in a matter of seconds. I was given an oral warning and sent on my way, no worse for the wear. The officer did not seem to even agree with the posting, but was just another soul-dispatched to make sure I was in a good frame of mind. The weather, save a few sprinkles, near Weatherford (no pun, cosmic, or otherwise), was rather tame.
By dinner time, I was in Amarillo, and so headed to the Fun Zone, Georgia Street to 6th-9th Avenues. There was my pal, Wes, in his convertible, hood down and ready to make anew friend or two. At Smokey Joe’s, we were treated like royalty by a comely young woman named Ella, who brought out a fine basket of Southern style catfish-no hush puppies, but a modest portion of fries and a generous helping of cole slaw. Wes, being shy and retiring, was more concerned with speaking of his business’s progress and sharing pictures of his surrogate grand-niece than with eating. He did make a new friend, so the stop was a success.
I promised both of them that I would drive safely-and kept that promise, arriving here to a rather crowded town, many here for a Gun Show. There was a room for me, at a friend’s establishment, so I am happily ensconced at Lariat Motel.
A Sagittarian Seeker 