Re-emergence

6

February 23, 2019-

The day broke,

bright and sunny again.

The driveway and roads

are clear.

No sidewalks available, yet.

So, I drove downtown.

Visited two, very different,

favourite haunts.

Outlaw Donuts had re-opened,

just this morning.

The place was wonderfully packed.

Ms. Natural’s had also re-opened,

after a two-day hiatus.

I was glad,

very glad,

to see a long-absent friend.

The place was quiet,

but for my chatter with

the congenial owner,

about the events of the past few days.

Dear friend was quiet,

ensconced in research,

which looked daunting.

I know she can handle it,

and told her as much,

which brought a smile,

to her earnest, intense countenance.

Returning to Home Base,

I found two snow men in the yard.

Photos will be taken tomorrow.

After a bit more tidying up,

outside,

widening my turn-around area,

and scattering bread crumbs

for forlorn little birds,

then clearing a channel,

for run-off in the front,

I enjoyed a nice, long hydromassage.

Re-emergence is a sweet thing.

The Second of Two

6

February 22, 2019-

I made the completion of the shoveling a key part of my agenda for today. A friend expressed hope that I would have a productive day, and so it was.  As it happened, the apartment co-manager was across the street, helping one of our neighbours, the grandmother of a child who likes to play in our yard at times.  Grandma had gotten stuck in the soft, but deep snow of the alleyway.  I went over and helped dig the snow from underneath the vehicle and a few feet in front.  Straightening her wheels, Grandma was off and going.

After that, the manager helped me shovel the long driveway and what would have taken a solid hour, took 20 minutes.  Of course, I took the prudent rest, afterwards, before enjoying a full dinner and uploading more of my photos-from last summer.  I need to get as much uploading as possible done, before heading to Korea for ten days, next month.  The wedding ceremony, and subsequent travel to my former home, will add a host of new photos to my FlickR-verse.

Yes, indeed. Productivity takes many forms.

In Abeyance

2

February 20, 2019-

Much was planned, for tomorrow.

Much is now in abeyance.

People were going to be trained, professionally,

yet our skills are not in abeyance.

School is cancelled, tomorrow.

Learning may, or may not,

be in abeyance.

I may, or may not, facilitate

a spiritual study circle.

Spirit is never in abeyance.

Snow might, or might not fall.

Weather keeps us guessing,

but it is never in abeyance,

everywhere.

Mere Conversation

4

February 18, 2019-

Upon returning from southern California, I reflected on three conversations I had there, yesterday and today.

The matter of personal finance is a tricky one.

One must, however, listen to and take the best

from all schools of thought,

then apply to own circumstances.

Travel is a broadening experience.

It must not, however, be done in

an undisciplined manner,

nor in lieu of a more challenging

and necessary course of business.

No matter how far one is from

a place where one is meant to be,

there will appear a connection,

between people and things that

are important in a home situation,

and those who are encountered

in another place,

which one is meant to visit.

At breakfast this morning,

in a place called Gramma’s  Country Kitchen,

where I have sat, numerous times,

at the counter,

and enjoyed a warm meal,

with an even warmer welcome,

I heard another voice of reason.

He said that building barriers,

and setting rules for air and water,

in one place,

will not amount to a hill of beans,

when across a short distance,

conditions opposite to one’s own,

exist aplenty.

I bid farewell to Mr. Wing,

and drove, without incident,

to the place I call Home Base.

 

No Frozen Hearts

9

February 17, 2019, Banning-

It was a fairly pleasant morning and early afternoon on the Orange County coast, with stops at San Clemente and Dana Point.  The first was to check out the beach and surf, after noting, from the highway, that the beach further down, in San Onofre, was cluttered with organic debris.

San Clemente Beach was occupied by a few True Believers, and was just barely safe for them to try surfing.  The outing lasted for less than ten minutes, though, as the boogie boarders observed a pretty strong undertow.SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESSAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

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A TV News reporter, at Ocean Beach, in San Diego, reported that “The sea is agitated”.  True enough, when recognizing that the planet, and its components, are living entities and that there are consequences to mistreatment.

I later had a nice lunch, at Harpoon Henry’s, in Dana Point, with a long-time friend.  During our wide-ranging conversation, her lifetime of watching the changes in southern California’s climate revealed just how disconcerting the increasing dryness is, on the ground.  I have a number of friends in southern California and have long watched, with alacrity, the effects of drought on the region.  Lake Cachuma, near Santa Barbara, her home town, has been a focal point of her watch, as it provides for much of Santa Barbara’s water supply.  Its ups and downs have been a concern of mine, as well as the levels in nearby Lake Casitas-and Lake Mead, for that matter.

After bidding her farewell, I made an easy drive on Hwy. 76 to I-215 and Murrieta, where another friend and her family welcomed me for a catch-up session.  Come to find out, their extended family members are the owners and operators of Outlaw Donuts, one of my favourite spots in Prescott.  One of the gratifying things of my life has long been that, no matter the outside temperature, or the circumstances of the world, I can go just about anywhere and find a friend with whom to pass the time- and that there are often few degrees of separation between one friend and another.

It’s chilling, and quite gloomy, weather-wise, in this town at the base of the San Jacinto range, but this room at Sunset Motel is toasty and I will get a warm welcome tomorrow morning, at Gramma’s Country Kitchen-which I’ve visited several times, over these past eight years.  The drive back to Home Base ought to be interesting:  Eight inches of snow are reported on Prescott’s west side.

I know there are no frozen hearts in my life, though.

 

 

Needed All Over

5

February 15, 2019, Blythe-

I  refer above to Love, itself.  Today has brought an increase in saddening, troubling news from many parts:  The slaughter of at least five people in Aurora, IL; severe flooding in southern California; flu and other respiratory ailments, hitting many families with whom I am in communication.  These, plus what I noted in yesterday’s post, occupy my thoughts and prayers.

I am here in this eastern California desert town, with wind gusting around 30 mph, on occasion. It’s not raining here, yet.  Near San Diego are some people who mean everything to me, and who are in dire straits.  I am in communication with one of them, and will do whatever the family needs.  There are, at present, many resources available to help those in danger, and I am a long way from being a Superhero, so the bounds of sanity apply here-fear not.  Nonetheless, I love these kids dearly and will not let them slip through the cracks.  I would do the same for any number of people, should the need arise.

That said, I am keeping an eye on Prescott and northern Arizona, as well.  We may well have quite a time of it, early next week. Stay tuned, and stay connected.

In The Blood

4

February 14, 2019-

It’s been a rough few days- with a dear friend falling and suffering some serious injuries, another friend diagnosed with cancer and still others with chronic illnesses, not getting any better. The weather here has been rambunctious- soaking rain, a good thing in the long run, has fallen steadily for the past thirteen hours.  More is on the way, followed by snow in the latter part of this weekend.

I have had much time to reflect on the nature of love, on this day of cards and chocolate.  I have to look at myself, as always. I don’t hold grudges; if a person who savaged me later comes to me in need, I find a way to help meet that need.  I have made terrible errors in judgement- and find it critical to make amends to the person, where possible.  I don’t always feel loved, and have to then look at what I am projecting outward.

Love shows itself in a myriad ways-the bottom line being that the beloved feels the goodness of heart.  Words alone are not one of those ways.  Neither is merely providing a place of residence: Slavemasters, after all, provided a home of sorts, for those who were frequently brutalized.  Constantly abusing another, and getting by with apologies, is NOT love.

Love is in the blood.  My parents’ love for us came naturally and never receded.  The same is true of my love for my late wife, and for our child.  Suffice it to say, any children coming from his own marriage will find three truly loving grandparents standing behind their mother and father.

Love is in the blood.  Any way I can help a suffering friend, I will.  Grand gestures, though, have to be kept to a minimum.  Those are the first things, upon which a hater or critic will seize, as evidence of one’s fecklessness.   I’ve had that thrown in my face, more than once, and sometimes rightfully.

Love is in the blood, and thus can’t be erased easily, if at all.

The Quiet Ones

15

February 13, 2019-

My high school yearbook entry, in 1968, included “Silent, but always there”. So it has been for much of my life.  If I haven’t had anything I felt was meaningful to say, much of the time, I’ve kept still.  Those who need constant noise and chatter, so as to not feel insecure, have often drawn the conclusion that I am some sort of dolt.  My autism certainly has not done anything to change that view.  Only time and acquaintance have dispelled the dim view, in all but three instances.

Last night, a relatively brief gathering found me in a quiet, introspective, frame of mind, with little to say.  One person asked my thoughts about my current employer; his eyes glazing over, when my reply went in a different direction than what he had been thinking.  Others seemed to feel like I was snubbing them, but that was far from the case.

The thing about the quiet ones is that we are in constant thought, and observation, about what is going on in our midst.  I will ever be concerned with what is going on around me.  I may not have the same perspective as those who are seeking confirmation of their own views, and so the turnstile will continue to revolve, here in the blogosphere, as well as in real time.  That’s fine-as my first responsibility is to be true to my own heart.  The Infinite has set a course for each of us, in that direction:  “Go placidly amid the noise and haste….”.

The quiet ones will always have much to say, and much that is meaningful, regardless of the tenor of the times and regardless of what thoughts are current, trendy.  Listening to us does require that one’s own inner noise gets turned down a notch. Rest assured that is the case, with our listening to you.

 

Honest Abe and the First Nations

4

February 12, 2019-

It is human nature to approach, and evaluate, other people by the same standards one holds to oneself.  It takes a lot of open-mindedness, and patience, for the average person to view people of different cultures as those of different cultures view themselves.  When  homogenization of cultural viewpoint takes deep root in a nation’s dominant culture, there is the appearance, if not the reality, of racism.

From thence, has risen the persistent assessment of people not of the dominant culture as being somehow inferior to those assimilated to said culture.  President Abraham Lincoln, on several occasions, hosted First Nations delegations, at the White House, during various points during his Presidency.  His purpose was to encourage them to assimilate into “the Christian culture of the majority of American citizens.” , as he regarded traditional ways of the nomadic among the indigenous peoples, and their non-Christian traditional Faith Communities, to be just shy of barbaric.

Not addressing the more than 200 years of atrocities committed by Europeans against both First Nations people and African-Americans, in the contiguous territory of the United States, and the nearly 200 earlier years of brutality against people of colour in other parts of the Americas, Mr. Lincoln, perhaps pre-occupied with the Civil War, found time to carefully evaluate, and dismiss all but 38 of the cases against 302 Lakota fighters, for alleged atrocities against the settlers of European descent, in the newly admitted State of Minnesota, during the six-week Dakota War of 1862.  Those 38 men were executed, in the largest non-combat execution act in U.S. History.

His record is far murkier, and less circumspect, with regard to the Sand Creek Massacre, in Colorado 1864 and the Long Walk, of Dineh and Inde (Navajo and Apache) people, from their traditional lands to Boque Redondo, in eastern New Mexico, beginning in 1863.  The Homestead Act and Pacific Railway Act of 1862 made settlement by European-Americans easier, and movement of goods far more efficient, but made no consideration, at all, of the needs of First Nations residents.

In fairness, Lincoln sincerely believed in the importance of  “civilizing” the First Nations people, which the leaders of those Nations, far from being ignorant or savage, viewed as both ironic and ludicrous, given the “brother against brother” reality of much of the “War Between the States”.  Cochise and, later, Geronimo,  saw the propensity for fighting among all groups in the Southwest as being pandemic:  Whites against whites, whites and Mexicans against each other, both groups against First Nations-and vice versa,

Lincoln espoused forward-looking policies towards southern slaves, primarily to ruin the economy of the Confederacy, whilst viewing people of African descent as being “legally” 3/5 of a free white man and viewing indigenous people as only worth the price of the land from which they might be removed-unless they became Christian. Abraham Lincoln was a man of his times, and can’t really be judged solely by the standards of our own imperfect era, however much more enlightened we might like to view ourselves.  He does not, however, deserve to be regarded as a universal emancipator of all those who were being persecuted during his tenure.

My own view is that people of various groups are more alike than different and that we, of each group, have more to learn from one another than we have to impart on others.  This, I have learned, consistently, from visiting many areas of this country-and some parts of other countries.