Category Archives: Striving

Last Weekend, and This

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Service Activities, Spiritual, Striving

October 8, 2016, Chula Vista-  It was a weekend of talk about change, and talk about commitments.  On October 1, a Baha’i Unit Convention was held in Flagstaff, and a similar gathering took place the following day, at the Native American Baha’i Institute of Learning, in tiny Burntwater, AZ, about 10 miles north of Sanders, along Interstate 40.

At these gatherings, we choose a person to represent our communities at the U.S. National Convention, in the Chicago area, the following May.  This is an important function, yet what is more important is that we are addressing the spiritual condition of our communities.  It is not a bland spouting of platitudes, and there are sharp opinions voiced, during the consultation.  Yet what we are, regardless of opinions, is respectful of one another’s value.  There is no one, among the gathered friends, who is discounted or seen as lacking value.  The goal, for each of us, is to extend this valuing to the entire community, not just committed members of the Baha’i Faith.

After an intense week at work, in which these principles of unity were put to the test, and which by the grace of God, I largely maintained progress,  I headed out to my son’s place, in this southern suburb of America’s Hometown.   He’s a bit laid up, from a fracture  of one of his left foot’s metatarsals.  So, my entire function, these five days in California is to help with his needs.  My usual meanderings up the coast will need to wait until the week after Christmas.

I set out from Prescott, last night, after a particularly strenuous day and a lengthy, soothing dinner at the American Legion Post.  The route this time took me to a very restful night at an economical motel in Blythe, then a drive through the Colorado Desert, through Brawley, to El Centro and over the Laguna Mountains to the coast.

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A 20th Century cowboy, circa 1992, downtown Brawley, CA

The weekend is off to a fairly restful start, and we can tend to tasks related to Aram’s healing, on Monday and Tuesday.

 

Octane

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Posted by on in Personal Values, Poetry, Striving

October 3, 2016, Prescott-

The once powerful octogenarian,

having survived and beaten cancer,

shuffles and gingerly steps his way

across the floor.

He will be around, for his family

and others who revere him,

for quite some time yet.

Another elder,

in a place far from here,

left this earthly plane,

this morning,

after an extended time

of palliative care.

He leaves a legacy

of civic pride and

overcoming disability,

in his midlife.

My blessed son,

in late youth,

is facing,

and overcoming,

an injury that

has him somewhat

laid up.

He is setting up a

a network,

that will see him

through these six weeks

of sedentariness.

Each of us survives

until its time

for a different setting.

More than Useful

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Poetry, Social, Striving

October 1, 2016, Flagstaff-

A Jill of all trades has been

working tirelessly,

for nearly a decade,

to keep her children on track.

A long-lost friend

surfaced today, to give

a scholarly presentation.

He and I will be

at another location,

tomorrow.

Feast or famine,

with certain friends.

What seemed like

a rivalry between

two institutions

for which I care deeply,

is more a matter

of systemic transition.

These are things I learned, today.

No Control

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Posted by on in Education, Striving

September 30, 2016, Prescott-

My immediate supervisor relishes the moments

when she can squash me like an insect.

There is no kind way to say that.

This, but for the children,

the unsettled, often problematic,

confounding, wonderful little souls,

is something of a headache.

It’s for them, alone,

that I will stand my ground.

Those who see only a struggle

to be in control,

have none of their own.

That’s the conundrum.

The children and I,

looking towards the light,

grabbing life with both hands,

have a sense of honour.

I will not let them down.

Gnosis and Gnus

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Inner Struggles, Poetry, Striving

September 28, 2016, Prescott-

I work with whimsical people,

including a child who thinks

playing tag in a church would be a trip.

Another, believes the Universe

is seeking his destruction.

I am trying to impart self-knowledge

as a goal, to my students,

so that, when they reach their teen years,

they will be less likely to self-medicate-

or otherwise engage in self-harm.

Animals in the wild

engage in self-preservation.

Why should we humans

be any less  vigilant?

Isn’t it odd,

that someone capable of gnosis,

should be less self-preserving,

than a praying mantis, electric eel

or gnu?

Two for the Ages

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Posted by on in Spiritual, Striving

September 26, 2016, Prescott- Sunday took two bookends from our midst: Arnold Palmer, with his “army” of fans from Fort Gordon, GA, near his beloved Augusta National Country Club, and his popularizing golf as a sport for Everyman; Jose Fernandez, an exemplary pitcher, at the top of his game and on the verge of winning 30 games in a regular Major League Baseball season.

Arnold was an elder, had lived a full, astonishingly varied life.  He lived it for his beloved first wife, and threw his reputation and his well-gotten wealth into a hospital, named for her and dedicated to the well-being of women and infants.  He lived it for his two daughters, letting them realize their own dreams and never abandoning them to a de facto celebrity orphanhood.  He lived it for his children’s children and for their offspring, and saw one of his grandsons excel at their shared beloved sport.  Most importantly, he lived it for the city, state and nation that he loved so much.  Pittsburgh returned the favour, during “The King of the Fairways’ ” last few days, taking loving care of him, as he prepared to take his final tee-off.

Jose was up-and-coming, in Major League Baseball.  He threw himself, with Little League style abandon, into every game he pitched for the Miami Marlins.This was a good thing,and he became the toast of the town. Here was a man on the verge of winning 30 regular season games, a feat not seen in the big leagues since Denny McLain won 31 games, in 1968.  The other 13 men who won 30 or more regular season games, all did so between 1900-1934.  Jose was due to pitch on Sunday.  He was, instead, moved back a day, in the pitching rotation.  He went boating, off Miami Beach, as a way of relaxing on his off-day.  The boat was speeding, due to circumstances still being investigated, and hit the dock at Miami Beach.  Jose died instantly, in the crash.

Although far from proficient in either sport, I feel both losses.  Many of my relatives are golfers.  My brother, living in Georgia, has attended the Masters PGA Tournament, several times and has often been on the links, in courses across the country- and around the globe. The passing of Arnold Palmer brings to the forefront all the triumphs and troubles which the Masters, and Augusta National, have endured, over the past five decades.

The death of Jose Fernandez brings to mind the tragic loss, albeit over several years of suffering, of another great young player, Tony Conigliaro, hit in the head by a pitch and never able to resume his march to destiny.  “Conig” was a hero, to my above-mentioned brother, and to me, as he and the great Carl Yastrzemski led the Boston Red Sox into the 1967 World Series.  Jose’s Marlins are a long-shot to reach that lofty height, this year.  With him, they might have surprised everyone. and done so.  In his honour, they may yet be inspired to do so, anyway.

Life has a rough way of marching on, regardless of who, young or old, drops off its awesome and beautiful chain.  It is, though, hard to imagine two more wondrous links in that line.  Rest in peace, Arnie and Jose, and look through the veil at us, with messages of hope and strength.

 

Equinox

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Posted by on in collaborating, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

September 22, 2016, Prescott- 

The Moon keeps us on our toes.

Calendar dates change,

based on its phases,

year to year,

for equinoxes and solstices;

for Baha’i Holy Days;

for Ramadan and Eid;

for Lent and Easter;

for the Jewish High Holy Days

and Passover.

The hearts who celebrate

do not change,

with the phases of the Moon,

or even with the climate’s fickleness.

We remain connected,

even across thousands of miles

and hectares of fenced-in fields.

We remain unified,

soul to soul,

in the face of contrived divisions,

of walls which no one really wants.

Walls and fences,

that delude us.

The only real safety

lies in connection.

Blessed be Charlotte,

Tulsa, Milwaukee,

St. Louis, Manhattan,

Elizabeth, Seaside Park.

God, be watchful,

over Pakistan, Syria,

Afghanistan, Iraq,

Yemen, South Sudan.

Stay the hands of the dividers,

wherever they may be.

 

 

 

 

Ginger Rising

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Posted by on in children, Community, Personal Values, Poetry, Social, Striving

September 19, 2016, Prescott-

The child had had enough.

He stood and told off a surreptitious bully,

who of course denied having said,

what I heard him say,

under his breath,

from across the room.

The intended target of abuse

does not have to suffer,

for the colour of his hair.

I think red, to be a fine hue

for a coiffure.

All colours of hair are good.

A certain public figure

voiced the opinion

that some, who hold views

contrary to hers,

are deplorable.

Have we not had enough

of tossing human beings

into one scrap heap,

or another.

Outmoded or disreputable viewpoints

can be deplorable.

People are not;

regardless of their opinions,

or their physical attributes,

or their life experiences.

People are worthy of being treated

with dignity,

even when they don’t carry themselves so.

Children are always worthy of dignity,

because they are still works in progress.

 

 

Charades and Illusions

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Posted by on in Literary criticism, Personal goals, Personal Values, Striving

September 18, 2016, Prescott- Fall is coming.  Phoenix anticipates the last of its triple-digit days, for the year, will be this coming Wednesday.  That may, or may not, prove to be true.  We in Prescott have already had night temperatures below 40.

Fall was the season of my birth.  It is, thus, the main time of year that I take stock of who I am, as a human being, and what remains to be addressed, as I move further along, in the earthly classroom of living.

My parents were very much the voice of reason, and prepared each of us well, for the challenges they knew were going to throw themselves our way.  I was the one who had just a smidgen of faith in Deus ex maxina, supernatural rescuers and unicorns that one could ride to glory.  None of these ever got me anywhere. The rolled up sleeves, and willingness to watch, learn and work at least have enabled me to survive, to have had a loving marriage and to have raised a solid young man.

I did two things today, to give myself a push forward, in the reality department.  First, I moderated a faith meeting, helping to set short-term goals for our community.  Second, I called my satellite television provider, of 20 years, cancelled the service and boxed up the receiver and its accouterments. This last is an acknowledgement that a new television, right now, would be an extravagance, at a time when there are other priorities- such as exercise, service activities and my son’s preparation for a change of duty station.

Last night, I finished reading “One Hundred Years of Solitude”,  Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s tale of a family which wallowed in self-imposed isolation, incestuous relationships and delusions of grandeur.  It is  one of the most intense novels of the 20th Century, presenting a northeast Colombian town (fictional, of course), from the time of the country’s independence to the early twentieth century, in all its political acrimony and struggles to reconcile spiritual mythology and paranormal occurrences with the encroachment of international economics and trade.  No member of La Familia Buendia was ever really happy.

I thought of the illusions into which I bought, in my own life, and how much sweeter the ups and downs of reality have been for me, all through my married life and (for the most part) in the years since, than any of the flights of fancy that characterized my earlier years, or the brief periods, in 2011 and 2013, when I dealt with relapses into personal chaos.

So, on I will go, honouring my family, being present for those around me and building new friendships, both in real time and online.  Happy Autumn, one and all.

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Nearly a year ago, north of Watson Lake, Prescott

 

 

 

Different Strokes

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Striving

September 13, 2016, Prescott- 

Today,I heard that someone who takes issue with my facilitating style will absent herself from the Wednesday group.  At work, I find it best to treat a couple of colleagues with kid gloves- and to keep my distance from one, in particular, unless it’s absolutely necessary to consult.

Not everyone is going to respond positively, to any one of us, at any given time.  The best course of action, for me, has always been to keep an open mind and heart, while giving  hateful people a wide berth.  By “hateful”, I do NOT mean critical.  God knows, I have learned much from those with differing perspectives.  Those who don’t have my well-being at heart, though, are best avoided.

Sooner or later, though, the human race will learn that every person has some value.  I will have more to say, on other subjects, tomorrow.  Now, though, I’m tired of the struggle and will say “Goodnight, all.”