For no apparent reason, I have been thinking of the ways in which I have tended to address people, over the years. There is usually a tendency to call people my age or older by the name with which they introduce themselves, or honourifics (Sir, Mr. ______, Mrs. or Ms. ______________, Ma’am). At work, I use names with titles, as an example for the students to follow. Younger men are either called by their preferred name or “Bud”. Younger women are, more and more, called by their preferred name-but there is still “Sweetheart”, towards those with whom I feel a particular bond. “Baby” is infantilizing, and “Honey” is a term best used by a significant other-so these have been sent to the Island of Shopworn Derogatives. Profane names are not an option.
In any case, all people are entitled to be addressed in the manner that they choose, when in a dignified frame of mind. I don’t take being corrected, personally, ever. Now that that’s out of the bag, I wish one and all a fabulous Sunday evening-and a Happy Valentine’s Week.
After my satisfying Saturday morning routine, I headed down here, to this bustling eastern suburb of Phoenix, to take in several hours of Arizona Roots, a music and art festival that smashes the monotony of winter in the desert. I was clued to this event by one of my friends from last Fall’s Convergence at Arcosanti.
I didn’t find her there, but I did find the sort of atmosphere that I experienced at Convergence, albeit a loving atmosphere, writ large. Instead of dozens of gentle souls crammed into a room, there were several hundred crammed into the area in front of the Main Stage.
There were artisan ensembles, like The Clint Stevens Band, just getting together and having some laid-back fun. Then, there was the mix of serious message and hakuna matata, from J-Boog and Rebelution, who did the Main Stage proud, while I was in its midst.
Although everyone there was a “total stranger” to me, it was easy to revert to Convergence dance form, and alternately bounce up and down, sway back and forth, and flash the Hawaiian thumb and pinky greeting at Jarell, whilst he was leading J-Boog, in a feisty 55-minute set of heartfelt reggae.
Here is one of their signature songs, about a lovely Hawaiian lady who makes J’s heart sing.
I felt none of the awkward “Really, old dude” self-talk that made me feel, initially, like a duck out of water, at Convergence. It helped to remember what a great time I had there, after letting that pointless crap go. So, I enjoyed 3 1/2 hours of “anonymous camaraderie”, that evokes what I probably missed at the great music festivals of the ’60’s and ’70’s. I had a lovely time, without any recreationally-enhancing substances. To be sure, these were flowing, and wafting, quite freely. I’m goofy enough on my own, and remember what a horror show I was, as a drunk and as a stoner, before 1981, and sobriety. Here is the scene, as J-Boog worked their magic.
As I was entering the grounds, Rebelution was in mid-set. The mid-afternoon crowd wasn’t quite revved up, as yet.
Next time, I know to check for Early-Bird ticket prices, in mid-November. A scalper, in the parking lot, offered me a “two-days for one” deal, which showed desperation. I did not have any intention of sharing my PI with him, or anyone else on the street, and I have other commitments for tomorrow, so I passed. I hope to make it for both days, a year from now, as these sorts of gatherings are good for my soul-and this is, for good measure, the largest such event I have attended, without being spooked. I’d say that’s a very good sign.
Every second and fourth Friday evening, God willing, a group of us gathers at the home of two dear friends, here in this town, 15 miles north of Prescott. We share a meal, then indulge in drumming and chanting, with a flautist accompanying much of the music.
There is, of course, conversation before, after and in between the musical selections. One of the members of the group shared the traditions and teachings of the Cherokee of North Carolina, explaining that there has been some divergence within the tribe, with regard to dialect and certain customs, as a result of the Trail of Tears and its resulting geographic isolation, of one group from another.
He performed a traditional Cherokee blessing, prior to the meeting’s end. This is shared below, as performed by another vocal group. I see similarities with other cultures, from Keltic Irish to Zulu, in terms of blessings wished upon visitors and loved ones. We each noted that there is an essential tie between humans, both regardless of physical distance and regardless of separation by time.
I can feel an almost palpable connection, with my maternal grandfather, who I never met and with paternal ancestors, who I have been assured are watching over me constantly, from the distance of several hundred years. Likewise, among those who live hundreds, or thousands, of miles away, I feel an unbreakable bond-though we may see one another once, or not at all, in the course of this earthly life. Whether through genetic memory or a spiritual envelope, the ties have been, and continue to be, unbreakable.
The bonds that some try to break, out of fear, narcissism or ignorance, can never really be broken. We are at a stage, in our human evolution, when connections are, or are about to be, seen for their true nature: Indissoluble.
I’m still working on channeling my intensity, properly. Most of my difficulties, as an autistic person, have come from not knowing when to dial back a bit. Fortunately, the progress I have made on this issue has come, courtesy of supervisors, friends and family who have been direct with me, without the cruelty that has come from others with narcissistic agendas of their own. I appreciate direct feedback, IF it is related to better doing the task at hand or concerned with my being a more whole human being.
I have, over the years since Penny passed, on occasion been drawn to women who befriended me, and, misreading their actions and statements, went off on woefully wayward tangents. Nowadays, I am supremely careful, along those lines. I remain a person of intense feelings, and these are more being channeled towards the well-being of my friends and family, as they define it.
So, my interest in the lives of people around me is less prescriptive, and more intuitive-a lot more measured, in the direction of empowerment. Life is richer that way.
The title pretty much sums up what I do, from day to day, on my job. It also sums up what I have experienced, in so many areas of life, especially since 2011. Things that are second nature, or are taken for granted, by many others, have been huge for me-as they have happened for seemingly the first time. I will treasure my journeys, completed hiking routes, accomplished volunteer projects, and each event at which I have been warmly greeted.
Of course, there have been moments when I’ve stumbled, in Paris, in Gera and in Corpus Christi, I learned from those relatively minor errors in judgement. There have been times when I’ve faced hostility, and I’ve learned from those times, as well. There have been times when I’ve looked in the face of indifference, and have realized that this is to be expected- across the range of human interactions. Friendships often ebb and flow.
My greatest satisfaction, though, is in seeing people I love rise above their own apprehensions and overcome their setbacks. Nurturing one’s basic skills is ever a source of comfort and strength, on which to fall back. I will continue to work on mine, and realize things about myself that have not even occurred to me. I hope the same for my many friends and loved ones.
The past couple of days have brought the kind of semi-wintry weather, not the least bit warm, but not cold enough for snow, for which our area is known, this time of year.
Prescott’s winter allows for business to be conducted as usual, for all but 3-4 days during the season- and then it is only interrupted in the morning. Noon usually brings melting.
The whole reason for my continuing to work is based on the love that forms the bedrock of my view of the world. I have health that is good enough to keep me getting up, going in, paying attention to my charges and co-workers, and living the full life of a committed professional, until the day comes, most likely in May, 2021, that it’s time for me to change direction.
I am finding that, with each passing day, my family, in the real sense of the word, is getting larger and stronger. Being able to travel the length and breadth of the North American continent, and a good many places beyond, and never feel like a stranger, is a feeling that I would not have imagined for myself, even ten years ago. Feeling that I am never really alone, even in the outwardly darkest of times, is a blessing that has only come with facing the tests and trials of what is never promised to be a charmed life.
I feel this, after an afternoon of learning more about handling job challenges in a different way and an evening of contemplating this bedrock of love that the Infinite, the Universe, has set for us.
Whilst many of my fellow humans were watching what started out as a Stupour Bowl, I chose a different route for a fine Sunday afternoon: Revisiting friends at Dharma Farm, an unassuming, but loving little settlement, on the west side of this unincorporated community in northern Yavapai County.
The family’s older child decided I was a fun companion, so we built, and dismantled, several mud villages. This child is a true Shiva, great at building and destroying items of wood and mud, alike. When the digging got old, and child decided it was “cold”, we went inside and she regaled the lot of us with a very expressive series of dances, in her best party dress. Then it was time for me to make a blanket fort, which she occupied very happily, for forty-five minutes. Finally, I became a blanket-covered creature, called Swaug-as the only sound it makes is a low, guttural “Swaug!” This went on for another hour or so.
Such is the world of a bright, imaginative three-year-old. The family lives, and the children are being raised on, a system of honouring: Honour each other’s space; each other’s work; each other’s presence; each other’s dignity and worth. If time were taken, by anyone, to practice this code, how much higher would the state of peace be?
Life at Dharma is not letter perfect- The above-mentioned child has her life lessons to learn and there were fatigue-caused meltdowns, from both children. The honour system will help address these concerns, as will the violence-free regimen of their parents. The couple’s commitment to Permaculture, a work in progress, will also contribute greatly to the little farm’s thriving.
A review of an astrological concept: The north node, its notion of “past lives” aside, did explain to me the basis for some difficulties and conflicts I’ve had in my actual past. It is, in many ways, a spot-on psychological analysis. It basically notes, in a largely accurate manner, that the Infinite, as the author refers to the Universe, will unfold life as it is intended to unfold, and that how one reacts to both challenges and triumphs alike, determines the degree of one’s happiness and feeling of satisfaction, or the lack thereof. This gave rise to a discussion of just what the nature of successive lives might be. I do not believe in continuous rebirths as human beings, and it turns out, neither do my friends. We concur that there are different beings, or levels of being, which follow this one.
It was an interesting day, capped by roasted vegetables and a green/beet salad. I learned, soon enough, that the Super Bowl was a low-key affair, with a predictable ending. On our lives go, as, for the most part, intended.
So the critters back East, in Punxsutawney and Staten Island, have assured us that it’ll be an early Spring. No shadows were in view, and after that region went through yet another polar vortex, followed by a modicum of thaw, the comfort is probably just a tad cold.
Sitting here, in a lull, during a timely and productive update session regarding the progress of our Faith in central Arizona, I think of the other unseen shadows, with which many of us deal, on a daily, or long-term, basis.
I took care of the biggest shadow, that of my nest-egg, sometime back, and the proceeds from the sale of a house, back in 2014, are in trust, for when I need them, beginning a few years hence.
The shadow of aging has its match, in daily use of essential oils, CBD and hemp products and, at least for a month or so, Thrive products- a gift from a grateful friend. Those and regular exercise keep me healthy and moving.
Any potential family shadows are best handled with proactivity: Research, setting time aside and regular, clear communication. This is true for all points along the family continuum.
The shadow of intellectual cramping is best countered by free dialogue. Closing one’s mind to opposing points of view does not make one smarter. I don’t see how not exposing young minds to either liberal or conservative opinions is going to improve their problem-solving ability. As a youth, I read “Mein Kampf” and “The Communist Manifesto”, being captivated by neither, but at least understanding how the authors arrived at such illogic. Closing off college campuses to Ben Shapiro, or Markos Moulitsas, will never save even the most infantilized freshman from following the primrose path of choice.
There are greater shadows-some real and some figments of vivid imaginations: The Social Security/Medicare fizzle, or lack thereof, in the 2030’s; the coinciding “end-of-the-world”, right about that same time; the potential change of our nation’s form of government (some have spoken of this, since Orwell published “1984”); the generations dropping the ball of civilized behaviour ( I seem to remember how “slovenly” and “unkempt” the Depression Parents and the GI Generation regarded us Baby Boomers).
Shadows are dispelled by light. The lights of faith, understanding, clear communication, discourse and above, all, consistent, firm action, will work wonders at clearing the darkness which seems to pervade so many lives, at so many levels.
As there are so many languages and ethnic groups, among the entity that is the human race, and as there are so many species of plants and animals, living on Planet Earth, alone, we may reasonably surmise that there is an infinity of living creatures, composed of any of the several elements, found in the Periodic Table, or perhaps a combination thereof. There could be as many, or more, silicon-based living creatures as/than carbon-based beings, across the Universe.
This leads to the fifth through tenth theoretical dimensions of the physical Universe. They each deal with comparisons between this world and at least one other possible world. The Fifth Dimension would be a world slightly different from ours, which we might compare and contrast with this one. The Sixth Dimension would be a plane of all possible worlds which have the same start conditions as one another. The Seventh Dimension would be a plane of all possible worlds with start conditions that are different from one another. This is the basis for the theory that there are several Universes (if “universe” actually means “one song”, that theory simply means there are several cosmic songs, in one Cosmos. The Eighth Dimension would be a plane of all possible worlds, each with different start conditions and each branching out infinitely. If Earth were to branch out, infinitely, then it is reasonable to expect that we humans would interact with those of other worlds, who are branching out infinitely, as well. The Ninth Dimension would be a plane of all possible worlds, with all possible start conditions AND all possible Laws of Physics. Remember, the Laws of Physics are atmosphere-based and gravity-based. What “flies” on Earth, does not “fly” on Saturn, or, necessarily, on the fourth planet from Sirius. The Tenth Dimension would be the plane of infinite possibilities. There, it could be that we could escape from politics, or death and taxes. https://ultraculture.org/blog/2014/12/16/heres-visual-guide-10-dimensions-reality/
However, let me take just a few minutes to ponder what the above means, in terms of the dimensions of human wellness. Man does seem to have an infinite capacity to rationalize. Suppose this ability is actually rooted in a state of alternate realities, each of which could fit the needs of a given world that the Seventh or Eighth Dimensions.
Suppose, also, that the upper dimensions are peopled by those of any number, or combination, of structural elements. How would we communicate with such beings? This may prove a critical issue, perhaps as soon as 200-300 years hence.
It could, finally, be that the Tenth Dimension represents the closest we can imagine to the Reality of God- a State of Being that is far, far beyond it, but which dimension can command the human imagination at its zenith.
I like to think that the fifth-tenth dimensions are the source of all human progress, compelling us to seek, and find, knowledge that our forebears could imagine only dimly, at best. Let us keep trying, and growing.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 