Category Archives: Spiritual

Journey 3, Day 8: Choosing the Talk, Figuring The Walk

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 7, 2023, Toledo, OH- There he stood, in the middle of a thankfully empty downtown street, trying to remember where he had parked his car. Having been in that predicament, myself, quite a few times (though taking care to not stand in the street), I asked if I might be of help. He mentioned the name of a landmark, near where his car was-and I was able to reorient him on his way.

A short time later, having had a bracing lunch of teriyaki chicken and rice,at Koya, in Wilmette’s village center, I spent about an hour in prayer, in the Baha’i House of Worship and at its Visitor Center. Of particular personal concern was being able to know in which direction my acts of service might fall, each day going forward.

Mostly, this has been sparked by a few instances of self-doubt, or momentary confusion. After reflection, though, it is more a matter of trying to do too much, too quickly-which is something that has ever been a challenge in my repertoire of behaviours. So, with a prayer to direct the urge for service in the optimal direction, I set out from the Holy Temple.

The Chicago Dance, as I call the flow of traffic along the Windy City’s freeways, lasted about an hour-from Dempster Street, Evanston to the Chicago Skyway. At one point, the first person I’ve ever seen freeze, whilst trying to change lanes, caused the driver behind me to open his window and bellow “Get moving, NOW!”, while the lady in the next lane looked about ready to spew equal venom. All I could do was inch forward and wait until the frightened one had moved his car completely out of my way. The car had Illinois plates, but who knows? Hapless Harry finally managed to screw up enough courage to go forth, in about a minute-which is an eternity to Chicago’s seasoned drivers.

In my own space, it often takes a few tries to get things right, so I did not fault either the frozen driver or the person experiencing parking space amnesia. In fact, once I got off the Tollways, the desire to get as far east as possible overcame prudence-and I had to call around and apologetically cancel a scheduled online meeting. I did find Best Motel, an aptly-named accommodation, here in Toledo. It will be another link in my continental chain

Journey 3, Day 7: Three Homages

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 6, 2023, Mauston, WI- The bison herd was spread out, mostly standing around, with some lying peacefully about and a few rolling in the dust. This was the order of the morning, at Blue Mounds State Park, just north of Luverne, MN. I had come here partly to walk along the pinkish-blue rocks and partly to sit and watch the bison, who were safely behind a fence, with a three-mile range in which to graze, wallow and just be bison, without any “intrepid” ( I think of another word that ends in -pid) tourists trying to get selfies with the beasts.

Bison herd at Blue Mounds State Park, Luverne, MN (above and below)

There was only respect for these magnificent animals, from those of us who stopped to see them today. A woman who had come with a friend, and her little dog, sat in the car with the pet, while her friend went to observe the herd.

The rocks on the cliffs to the north of the bison pasture were equally magnificent- in an understated way.

Blue and pink ledges, at Blue Mounds.
Top of north Blue Mound
Rolling prairie, along Blue Mound Loop Trail

Like Pipestone to the north, Luverne relied greatly on locally quarried stone to build its public structures.

Rock County Courthouse, Luverne, MN
Rock County Veterans Memorial, with front of Courthouse in view

After a three-hour drive, the second homage of the day was on a more somber note: Laying a wreath at the gravesite of Mendota Heights Police Officer Scott Patrick, slain in the line of duty, on July 30, 2014, at a traffic stop in nearby West St. Paul. He had been a partner to an extended family member; thus, the added impetus to pay my respects.

Let all know the value of a life cut short. It is gratifying that his killer was caught and brought to justice, serving a life sentence for first degree murder.

Adjacent to Acacia Park Cemetery, where Officer Patrick was laid to rest, is Oheyaw ahi, “A Place Much Visited”, in the Dakota language. It is also known as Pilot Knob. This is a site sacred to the Dakota people, who occupied the area, when Europeans first came there. The hill was a regular gathering place, as the name implies. Sacred ceremonies were commonly observed at Oheyaw ahi. After a treaty was signed, in 1851, giving control of the area to the U.S. government and land to white settlers, 1300 Dakota people were confined to a fenced camp on the opposite bank of the Minnesota River. Many died there, during the winter of 1851-52, and were buried at Oheyaw ahi. Thus, to this day, the site is hallowed ground and sacred to the Dakota Nation. I walked quietly, on established trails, and offered prayers for those who suffered then, and those who may be suffering now.

The north gathering place, on Oheyaw ahi, near Mendota Heights, MN.

After the full day, it took a while, but I found my rest stop for the night, at Quality Inn, Mauston.

Journey 3, Day 4: Jack’s Agency

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

September 3, 2023, Black Forest, CO- The ball cap fluttered down from the dining hall balcony, with a gleeful pair of bright blue eyes following its progress. While the adults and older kids were busy talking among themselves, the three-year-old weaved his way across the balcony and down the stairs, retrieving the cap-and exploring the recess under the platform. He was soon joined by an adventurous friend, who came back out, a few minutes later, to announce the presence of Black Widow spiders in the alcove. Jack was unperturbed. The main thing was, his curiosity was satisfied.

He, and the other children present at our gathering, are creatures of agency. They have been granted such, by the wiser among the parents, grandparents and those of us who are uncles and aunts-either familial or by dint of inclination. We claim agency for ourselves as well-so it is natural that this be extended the future generations. The old saw, “Be kind to your children. They will be choosing your nursing home”, comes from far deeper sentiments. I can’t imagine being less than kind, or acting unloving-not in the past forty-four years, not even in the days of my own intemperance, impatience and insecurity.

Our lives matter, from the inception, the conception, of our souls. They matter until we have drawn our last breath, and long afterward, as the memories of those lives inform the decisions and actions of our descendants-both biological and societal.

Thus will Jack, and his friend, Astrid, and all those older and younger than they, make their will known, triumph from the decisions they make that are wise and forward-thinking and learn from those of their decisions that are not so.

It was this set of thoughts that rang most prominently, throughout a far more welcoming and affirming day at camp.

Journey 3, Day 3: Dancing as Sharing the Spirit

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

September 2, 2023, Black Forest, CO- Kicking off her shoes, the instructor showed us how to actually dance in rhythm to a classical concerto. A group of us stepped, at first slowly, then in lively fashion, as the crescendo sounded. It looked like the dervishes go to disco, but the idea was for us to be comfortable with our own rhythm and style of movement.

Back in high school, there were only a few accepted ways of dancing. I was the model of two left feet, so I spent a lot of time watching the more graceful dancers and managed to kind-of, sort-of master one of the dance steps, by the time graduation happened.

Since then, moving to the beat has become easier. Now, the eye-rollers are men my age, as in “Leave that stuff to the kids, before you put your knees out of whack!” Actually, dancing saves my knees, as does hiking, but I digress.

Joining group activities is a means of sharing one’s inner spirit-letting people know what moves a soul. The sight of an 85-year-old William Shatner “busting a move”, or the late Leonard Cohen, tangoing on stage with one of his back-up singers, at the age of 80, gives me similar confidence, so long as it continues to feel natural.

I am one of two out-of-staters at this conference, so joining in these types of activities also gives me a connection to the otherwise tight-knit group, who are er,basically the same family members who have gathered together for twenty years. It’s good for the soul to meet new people and learn different perspectives. Besides, they invited me, so here we all are.

Journey 3, Day 2- Waltz Across Paradise

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 1, 2023, Black Forest, CO- While the hostess could barely focus, for the crowds that were making their way to her check stand, i could see that she was trying to keep it together. Such was the noon hour, at Junction Restaurant, on the east edge of Pagosa Springs.

I have been on Rte. 160, across Colorado’s southern tier, maybe two dozen times, since 1981. I have seen snow in July and bare roads in January. It has been all about navigating Wolf Creek Pass, each and every time. It has also been about an overnight in Cortez, or in Walsenburg, if I was making a return trip.

Highway 160 is the middle route, between I-40 and I-70. It is the guide to the San Juan Mountains, Mesa Verde, the Animas, San Juan and Rio Grande, the San Luis Valley, Great Sand Dunes, the Spanish Peaks-and the heart of the Rocky Mountains.

The three great rivers are hurting. Sand bars are visible in the Animas and San Juan, at Durango and Pagosa Springs, respectively, and Rio Grande is barely flowing, at Alamosa. There are no fires allowed in Montezuma County (Cortez), La Plata County (Durango), Archuleta County (Pagosa Springs) and Rio Grande County (South Fork). For the first time in memory, I saw no snow, anywhere, on the tops of the great “Fourteeners”. Colorado is parched, along with most of its fellow western states, and the its neighbours on the Great Plains.

This is the backdrop to the three days that lie ahead, at the Colorado East Baha’i School, here in Black Forest. Nonetheless, as we take pains to conserve water, be fire wise and love our host Mother Earth, all of us, Coloradans and visitors alike, are grateful for the paradise that this state presents.

I hope the blessed little lady at Junction can find some peace, this weekend.

Dance of Ten Crayons

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 29, 2023- The little boy held five crayons in each hand, carefully divided between primary and secondary colours. He sang a song of his own composing, in a rudimentary form of English, the words’ meanings known only to himself. The melody, though, was pleasant and his whirling dance juxtaposed nicely with the song. This occupied him for almost forty minutes.

Creativity is a bounteous thing, and we can learn more ways in which it may be applied, by almost anyone-regardless of their intellect or state of mind. With regard to the former, my youngest brother, with limited speaking ability, nonetheless would raise a cup of juice and call out “Achtung!”, wanting those at table to join him in a toast. (He got this from watching episodes of the TV show “Hogan’s Heroes” It sounded to him like something that would be a nice cue for a toast.) Mentally challenged people are among the most loving and generous of all humans. With regard to the latter, mankind has shown both a limitless capacity for generosity and inclusivity; on the other hand, whole museums have been devoted to the Holocaust of World War II and there are Museums of Torture in a good many cities across Europe, as well as in Chicago.

Among the items in my own wardrobe is a cap that features a wraparound shield, covering the sides of my face, my ears and neck. Of course, some find it amusing, but I am pleased with what it does for my dermatological health. Whoever designed this cap has done fair-skinned (and a goodly number of swarthy people) a huge favour, in this time of approaching Solar Maximum.

We will each have moments when we may be called upon to devise a novel solution to a problem, large or small. Let it then be a time when one’s own dance of ten crayons comes to fruition. May that dance be a peaceful, regenerative one.

The Giant Rubber Duck

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

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Style and Substance

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

August 25, 2023- The little boy greeted me, in late morning, with a warm hug. The angry woman, later in the evening, with much the opposite.

Like so many days, this one began light and airy-and ended with a thud. I woke, sensing that the energy around me was shifting in a positive direction and that, in advance of the journey that begins at the end of next week, my path in what remains to be done here in the meantime would be free of obstacles. The work day reflected that, with the children energetic and cooperative, and my colleagues just happy to see another Friday, though they do enjoy their work. Everyone likes a rest, or change of pace, after a week at a job well done.

I visited Rafter Eleven, and was treated like a king-an extra mocha java was delivered to my table, as a token of appreciation for consistent support of this marvelous enterprise, over the bottom of the past eight years. A little bee was also attracted to my light meal, and to the drink, eventually finding its way to the bottom of the glass. Unfortunately, the poor animal perished from the still icy condition of the vessel-or maybe from the caffeine.

After leaving my friend’s establishment, I chose to join an in-person meeting, instead of going back to Home Base and signing onto Zoom. The hosts and the presenter were congenial, and the information quite illuminating. Not everyone was glad to see me however, and after a fashion, I found it best to excuse myself and head out-easy enough to do, as it had been a long, if lovely, day up to that point-and I needed rest.

There have been, every so often, people in my life who do not take kindly to my manner of speech or style of explanation. I try to learn what I can from such a person, for a time, and if it makes me more well-rounded or expands my knowledge, so much the better. Style, however, tends to reflect the substance of a soul. An angry, wounded soul will be abrupt, castigating and intolerant. I have not done well, in the presence of such people and this evening was no exception.

For my part, I know that I do not think well on my feet at the end of the day-and frequently, I do not engage well in debate, even when rested. This means nothing to the disquiet person, and is often viewed by them as an excuse. The whole trigger this evening was my statement that I like to back up my comments with the words of Baha’u’llah or ‘Abdu’l-Baha, not as a proselytizing mechanism or as a substitute for good deeds, but as the glue that holds my own words and deeds together. That led to an outburst of anger, and I chose to leave, rather than exacerbate the situation.

For a time, once back in the apartment, I pondered whether this is an indication that my time here in this community is getting short, that maybe the bloom is off the rose and I need to move on. The counter to that, I know, is that the part of myself that triggers anger in disquiet people will only spark the same, at the next place, if I move along. It’s better to keep this Home Base for now, get my journeys done in September and October, and resume work here from November through mid-May.

With that, I am headed to sleep, and hope for a peaceful weekend.

Humanity Isn’t Minimized

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Historical, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 23, 2023- In August, 1974, a family visiting from Montreal had taken a cabin at a resort, in western Maine, where I was working for the summer. A fire was built in the hearth, then thinking that it would be secure and burn itself out-in the hearth, the family went to bed. At 2 a.m., the older daughter, 13, smelled smoke and got her parents and sister up and out of the cabin. I was one of the volunteer firefighters who did the best we could to extinguish the fire-and did keep it from spreading. Many of the other crew members were year-round residents of the village. Their own homes would have been at serious risk, in short order, had the blaze spread.

Tusayan is a small town, of about 6,000 people, most of whom work in service industries connected to Grand Canyon National Park’s South Rim. There are also those who serve the servers: The Coconino County Sheriff’s Substation, the Grand Canyon Unified School District and the Town of Tusayan’s government.

Yesterday, much of the town’s populace, and many visitors, were evacuated, due to unusual flash floods. While clean-up will take time, and there is an ongoing threat of more rain, through Friday, the main road-AZ Highway 64, has been re-opened, from the South Rim’s entrance to Williams. The eastern section, from the entrance to Cameron, did not need to be closed, though in taking that road last night, due to a commitment at a school in Prescott, today, I noticed that a severe hail storm had struck the eastern part of South Rim, earlier in the afternoon.

This is yet another in a series of wake-up calls for the tourism industry, and for travelers in general, that the places being visited are inhabited by people who are essentially the same as those who have left their homes to take a rest, be served or to just enjoy a change of pace from home sweet home. Lahaina is the largest, and worst, such tragedy, in a series spanning several years. Gatlinburg, Big Sur, Talkeetna and dozens of small forest encampments all over the continent-and across the globe, have seen fire and flood drive those involved in hospitality lose house and home.

There are many reactions to a tragedy in a vacation-oriented area, as I discussed last week. It has been reported that at least one tourist raged about his dinner reservation being canceled by the Lahaina fire’s burning down the restaurant. We are all on a journey away from self, and towards seeing “all humanity created from the same stock”, as Baha’u’llah wrote in a prayer, 150 years ago. Some of us have, in all sincerity and from a place of generosity, gone to the suffering area and purchased a vacation package, thinking that THIS is the way to help the people in the afflicted community know that the world stands with them. Others have sent large supplies of goods, often without checking as to what is actually needed. These are good-hearted people, who have just not taken the time to hear from the victims themselves, or from their spokespeople. Thus, some want to go to Maui, anyway. Others will go to Tusayan, and expect that business as usual has resumed, because the highway is open. The clean-up will continue, for some time.

Humanity isn’t minimized by where someone lives, or by which economic group they occupy. Yes, paying for a service does mean that one gets a product for one’s money. It is also true, in this age when nearly every place on Earth has something of interest to offer, that we are all both visitors and visited, servers and served.

I find that it is the deep connecting with those who live in a community, that makes visiting the locale worthwhile in the first place.

One Day, Four Events

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 19,2023- I woke this morning, with the intent of primarily being on site at the eleventh annual Hope Fest, where I have helped local Christians, in some of the practical tasks that crop up during the course of their program of ministry to those who are suffering from homelessness, addictions and/or domestic abuse. There were to be two other activities: Helping break down the Farmer’s Market, which was essential, as a new person came on board today, and Spiritual Feast, in the evening.

A last-minute text message added a fourth event, and by 9 a.m., I was online, co-hosting the Worldwide Celebration of Unity. This has been needed of me during the main host’s lengthy illness, which continues in the recovery phase. The program went forward quite well, and by 10:15, I was back on site at Hope Fest-getting caught up with a few tasks, involving communications.

At noon, the Farmer’s Market site saw my shadow, the new person proved to be as energetic and as quick a study as the rest of the crew. We got everything cleaned and put away by 2 p.m., and back to Hope Fest I went. The afternoon proved very smooth, musicians were happy and some patrons with questions were my main concern, along with the woman custodian needing help. I left at 5:30, got ready for Feast and at 6:40, drove to a friend’s house for the devotional, consultation and fellowship that we Baha’is have, once in each nineteen day period. As always, the evening was lovely, made more so by this being at the host’s new home.

After Feast, I went back to Hope Fest, in anticipation of the lengthy process of wrapping things up and making sure that the clean-up, and putting away of borrowed equipment was in order. I found the concert by the event’s headliners (Building 429) was still in full swing, and enjoyed their last few songs-including the “good night” tune: A spirited beginning verse of “Don’t You Forget About Me’, by Simple Minds. Their spiritual tunes were well-crafted, and energized the audience to the very end. Things wound down nicely, a full crew was then engaged in putting chairs up, for the rental agents to collect, trash was collected one last time and unused water given to whoever wanted to take it with them or given to the Solid Rock Church, across the street. By 11:30, I was satisfied that all was in order, and that a late-night crew would take care of the stage breakdown-which did not require these old bones to be present.

Though I might have been annoyed by the last minute request, as recently as six months ago, these days, it just seems like part of the deal. As long as I feel up to helping out, it just seems like what is being asked by the Divine. There will be times, when being in two places the same day will seem unreasonable-and I will have to decline a request, but today, everything dovetailed quite nicely.