Category Archives: Striving

Dribs and Drabs, On A Final March Morning

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

March 31, 2016, Prescott- I woke this morning, to an insistence from the Universe, that I not move too quickly, at first.  So, the shower was leisurely, a “hit the ground running” job request was declined (Throwing myself together, for a forty-five minute drive, at the last minute, would not have ended well, this morning.)

Some readers think I’m too self-centered.  I guess it can look that way, from a distance.  Truth is, not an hour goes by, that thoughts and prayers aren’t with someone less fortunate.  My thoughts right now are with a young lady whom I regard as a niece, dealing with her second severe loss, in less than a year, and with three young people, in different parts of this continent, whose financial woes are presented as intractable.  While I wish I had the resources to get several people straight, my inner Dave Ramsey gets channeled and I can best send them the spiritual energy to make do with what is, and build from there, as I have made myself do- thanks to two men named Dave.

The March lion is a bit tamer today.  It’s a bit cool, but that will change, drastically, as April arrives.  We’re anticipating temps in the mid-80’s here, next week.  Water conservation, at least in my apartment, continues unabated.

My Reading List for April is,at present:  Continuing, and finishing, “Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself:  How to Lose Your Mind and Create a New One”, by Dr. Joe Dispenza ( This is a “get out of your comfort zone” book, lent me by a dear friend); “Atlantis:  Insights From A Lost Civilization”, by Shirley Andrews (This one relies on actual science to extrapolate how things were, in that fabled place.); “Marco Polo:  The Journey That Changed The World”, by John Man (also relying on historical records to tell the story of the man who helped get Europe out of its medieval doldrums); “The Billionaire’s Vinegar”, by Benjamin Wallace (This is the last of the books given me, by my paternal uncle, and weaves a classic tale of fraud, perpetrated on a naive and greedy man of means); “All The Light We Cannot See”, by Anthony Doerr (This is a tale of two young people, in the Brittany of World War II, who are brought together, in the most harrowing of circumstances.)  These, and study of a Baha’i text, will take up my reading April.

The rest of today will be getting errands done, and catching up with friends in town.  The lamb is rearing its head, so I must get going.

Out Like A Lion

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Posted by on in Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Striving, Uncategorized

March 30, 2016, Prescott-  I’ve been pretty busy this week, with work, and a brief foray into the “after work” social gathering scene.  I find it still as shallow as it was when I frequented such gatherings, before Penny came along.  People have their closed groups, and no matter that one or two might invite a newcomer, out of courtesy, it doesn’t take long for the body language to stiffen and the eye contact to move to those familiar faces.

My thoughts went today to the places where, and the people with whom, I feel at home.  Not all are my ever-agreeable supporters.  Some are critics, but they are honest critics, and are often quite helpful.  As my beloved always said, “The opposite of love is indifference”.

In this hour of a March that is headed out like a lion, after treating us to icy wind and a dusting of snow, I want to honour the places that are homes to me, in the West, since it’s been a while.

Prescott and vicinity, Flagstaff, Marana, Tubac, Bisbee, Thatcher, the Sunnyslope area of Phoenix,  Holbrook, Hopi land, Pine Springs, Reno and Carson City, San Diego and vicinity, Dana Point, San Clemente, Lomita, Santa Barbara, Ojai, Ashland (OR), Portland, Spokane, Anacortes, Wrangell, Juneau, Sitka, Ketchikan, Afton (WY), Cortez, Boulder, Colorado Springs, San Luis (CO), Socorro, Albuquerque, Truth or Consequences. I can go to any of these places, and there will be a welcoming presence.

I will talk further about my homes in the Midwest, the South, the Northeast, and the rest of the world, in subsequent posts.  The point is, I am ever grateful for all who have reached out, kept faith in me, and not abandoned me out of difference of opinion, hurt feelings, or convenience.

Let’s see whether the March Lion gives way, willingly, to the April Lamb.

Shante’s Dream

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Posted by on in children, Community, Striving

March 27, 2016, Marana-  He has only been among us, here in Arizona, for about ten days, along with his two brothers and two sisters.  None of the kids speaks English, and they only know a smattering of French. Swahili is their mainstay.  Shante (SHAN-tay), age 3, and his siblings, have come to us from DR Congo, by way of Tanzania. The children, and their caretakers, joined thirty-four others of us, at a Unity in Diversity musical festival, on this bright, but thankfully breezy and cool, Easter Sunday.

Despite all his family’s travails, Shante walks with a swagger, and a purpose.  His take on life is strictly one day- or one moment- at a time.  That is the joy of being three, nothing has assumed an air of permanence in life, as yet.  He looks up at the tall, well-built drummers, themselves having come here from the Republic of Congo-Brazzaville, speaking just enough Swahili to make the kids feel welcome.  They show Shante their drums, and lift him up, so that he may tap on the skin and feel his own rhythm start to stir.

After a few minutes of this, and a ping-ping, on the keyboard of a Cuban musician, fresh from the city of Holguin (visited by Pope Francis I, last Fall), Shante comes back down, off stage, and lingers by my seat for a bit, then goes along his way, back to be with his sisters.

They take part in a second-round hunt for plastic eggs, filled with jelly beans.  The girls manage to find all remaining eggs, within two minutes of search.  Shante gets his share of the take- four plastic, jelly-bean filled delights.  He eats one jelly bean, and that’s enough.  For a child who has seen, and tasted, little of sweetness, a little bit goes forever.

Shante has his dream- as yet locked behind the door of linguistic disparity, and development.  A three-year-old’s Swahili is, after all, no more proficient than would be his contemporaries’ Norwegian, Spanish, or Kwa Zulu, in other parts of this hard, but exquisite home of ours.  His eyes, though, are scintillating.  This boy is sharp, and will make his way in the world, regardless of circumstances.  He shows interest in the music, whether African, Caribbean or Bluegrass, and dances to whatever tune is being offered.  He examines a blind man’s Australian bush hat, carefully fingering its strap and felt covering, as the patient man abides the probing. He works the crowd, and sizes each of us up, by looking us in the eye, for a minute or two, before moving on to the next person of interest.  He offers a brief opinion of what he has seen and heard, to his oldest brother, who nods in assent and holds Shante close, for a few minutes.

I keep saying this:  We, the elders, are in good hands with the generations that are rising.

Light of the World

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Poetry, Spiritual, Striving

March 25, 2016, Prescott-

The Light spoke:  “I came unto you, and offered Myself unto a crucifix,

upon the Plains of Ganges,

and you slumbered.

Later, I showed you Light and Darkness,

and you made them into caricatures.

I then showed you the Eight-Fold Path,

and you found it too complex.

When I came to you, as a Carpenter, a Fisher of Men,

you asked for Barabbas, and worshiped Mithras.

So, I again let Myself be crucified, that you might be saved.

You responded by quarreling, as to which of you heard Me correctly.

I came to you, in a time of darkness, and showed you the ways to

nationhood, and the gathering of knowledge.

You were  most interested in the battle techniques of My generals.

Still, each time I came, there were those who heard the truth.

Their genetic memory was strong enough, that I came yet again,

and through a life of great heartache and sacrifice, I have brought

you the way to unity, a path towards reaching the Day that shall not

be followed by Night.

As you commemorate My prior sacrifice, will you listen to Me now?”

(This is offered as testament to the Truth, which sacrificed Its

Messenger, on this day, some 1,983  years ago.  It has never left us

alone.)

 

The Moon Is Green

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Posted by on in Historical, Personal Values, Seafaring, Striving, Uncategorized

March 16, 2016, Prescott- I’ve had an affection for things Celtic, since long before things Celtic became trendy.  My half-English mother forbade the playing of Irish music in the house, but she’s come around to at least allow its play, on the music channels of her cable service.

My own affection for such is part of a lifelong connection with those who are close to the soil.  So, I feel bonds with the indigenous- not only my Penobscot ancestors on my paternal grandmother’s line, but all Native Americans, Inuits, Siberians, Hawaiians, Australian aboriginals and those whom I called, in my childhood ignorance, “the natives” (tribal Africans).

I associate Celts, ancient Teutons, Slavs and the nomadic peoples of the Eurasian steppe with the land, also.  It seems they ravaged one another, in wave after wave, and usually just as the one group was settling into sedentary life, there came the next horde.

That’s been the way of humanity, since we headed up, out of Africa, and wherever else we may have mastered the art of upright mobility, and spread across the continents.  We have so often looked to the other’s yard, for prosperity- or at least for a change of scene. Indigenous people had these conflicts, too, though when the Europeans came to these shores, with visions of commerce and gain, the American peoples were in the process of establishing a peaceful network of trade routes, from southeast Alaska and the taiga of Canada, to Tierra del Fuego, and so many points in between.  It is highly likely that there was trading between the Aleuts and the people of Japan; between the Greenland Inuit and the peoples of Scotland and Norway (even before Iceland was settled); and, possibly, between the seafaring people of what is now northeast Brazil and the kingdoms of western Africa.   Then, too, nobody could hold a candle to the masters of the ocean:  Those who went east, from the Malay Peninsula, and became the Micronesians and Polynesians, or west, and became the Malagasy.

We face, possibly in my lifetime, if not in my son’s, a decision about the proper use of the resources on our planet’s Moon, then those of at least the near planets of our solar system.  Green- the colour of many of our wardrobes, tomorrow, will continue to have different connotations to different people.  Mean green, or gentle green?  Commerce, at any cost, or careful stewardship?  It seems this has gone on, since Croesus minted his first coins, or even since the nations that pre-dated the Great Flood, if one believes in such things.

Where are you, in this debate?  (My Xangan friends, in particular, please know that I don’t take umbrage at contrary opinions, even if I get a little spirited once in a while.)  Express yourselves, and Erin Go Bragh!

Prescott Circle Trail: Tales of Two Segments

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Posted by on in Entertainment, Hiking and Nature, Striving

March 13, 2016, Prescott- “It is not yours to keep, this ever-changing trail”- Laura and the Killed Men, “The Ever-Changing Trail” (All rights reserved, Laura Kepner- Adney and Sam Golden, 2015).

I sat, joyfully, in one of my favourite evening live music venues, The Raven Cafe, and listened to this Tucson country-folk band’s first set.  The line above is from their a capella set closer.

They excel with instruments, also.

Include the video, as it happened that the evening was a fine counterpoint to two hikes I took this weekend, on Prescott Circle Trail.  Yesterday afternoon, the spontaneity of which I wrote, a few posts ago, kicked in.  I accepted the urge to do a “fill-in-the blank” hike, to the top of Badger Peak, which is circumnavigated by Section 7 of the Circle.  The peak is also called “P” Mountain, owing to the large white first letter of my adopted town’s name.

Here are some scenes.  The first two were taken from the access road, to which I transferred from Prescott Circle, at the half-way mark to the summit.

View from road leading to Badger Peak summit
View of Government Canyon spur, from Badger Peak access road
Communications Towers, Badger Peak summit
P is for Prescott, Badger Peak summit
View of Watson Lake, from Badger Peak summit

The third photo shows a communications station, atop the peak.  The white circular arrangement is the top of the P.  There is no access to the arrangement, in its entirety, without permission of the Yavapai Nation, which owns the mountain.  The final photo shows Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, from the summit.  This hike was four miles, round trip.

This afternoon, a friend, who had wanted my help with a remodeling project, postponed it until next week.  This gave rise to spontaneous hike # 2:  Segment 5 of the Circle.  It is a ten-mile round trip, something I’ve not done during the Fast.until today.  I was inspired in this by another friend, who is both older and physically smaller than I am, and who hikes and runs during this time period.  So, out of my comfort zone I went- with enough water on which to fall back, in the event I felt weak.  As it happened, that was not a problem, as the air was cool this afternoon, and the Sun was hidden by clouds, most of the time.

This segment goes from a point south of Upper Goldwater Lake, around the south and west shores of that body of water, above the west shore of Lower Goldwater Lake, which is closed to the public and through Prescott National Forest, to White Spar Campground. This hike was ten miles, round trip.  Sitting here tonight, I feel refreshed and focused.

Here are some scenes of Segment 5.

Trailhead sign, Prescott Circle Segment 5
“Tree-pod”, south of Goldwater Lake

Note the “Tree-Pod”, on the right.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Gray granite boulders, south of Goldwater Lake

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South shore, Upper Goldwater Lake

Pair of daisies, Prescott Circle Trail
Memorial to Yarnell Hill Firefighters

On the left are a pair of daisies, seen along the way, above Lower Goldwater Lake.  The heart-shaped stone memorial, on the right, is dedicated to the 19 firefighters who died at Yarnell Hill, in June, 2013.  It is atop a ridge, 1 1/4 miles southeast of White Spar campground.

View from Monument Ridge, south of White Spar
Trailhead, White Spar Campground

The Sierra Prieta range can be seen from Monument Ridge.  On the right, is the trailhead at White Spar Campground.  I spent only ten minutes, resting, at this very full facility.  There were 2 hours’ back journey left.

On the way back, I stopped for several minutes at this lovely nook, Banning Creek.

Small pond, Banning Creek
Small pond, Banning Creek

 

There had been a fair crowd here, when I was headed towards White Spar.  When I returned, only one lone bicyclist and I had the place to ourselves- and he was about to leave.  I saw very few other people, the rest of the way, until I got back to Upper Goldwater.

Now, with the next two weekends booked, I will wait until April to take on the next segments of Prescott Circle- unless things get canceled and spontaneity calls.

Shedding Self

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Posted by on in Inspiration, Spiritual, Striving

March 9, 2016, Prescott- I have finished reading a few books this year, most notably “Keep Moving”, by Dick Van Dyke, “The Witches”, by Stacy Schiff,  “Terra Incognita”, by William Barnes and “Extreme Ownership”, by Jocko Willink and Leif Babin.

Current reads are “The Dinosaur Heresies”, by Robert Bakker, “Sphere”, by Michael Crichton and “Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself”, by Dr. Joe Dispenza.

This last was loaned to me by a friend, so I am making finishing it a priority, out of courtesy, since she is also making reading it a priority.  There is a wealth of food for thought and for self-transformation, in this fascinating book.

As many of you know, I am investing in self-healing, through careful use of Certified, Therapeutic-Grade Essential Oils and, by and large, avoiding fast food and beverages laced with processed sugar.  Regular exercise, in the forms of hiking, and hitting the treadmill three times a week, has also been beneficial.

Dr. Dispenza advocates these practices, but goes a step further.  The “self” he wants people to leave behind is the self that regards attachments to limiting physical and mental habits as unavoidable.  I will be incorporating his recommendations into my own meditation practices, as my reading of this book progresses, and will post on my findings.

One change in my behaviour that is already in place is that I will refrain from making grandiose schedules of travel and visiting, well ahead of time, overextending myself and then changing things up.  My journeys will still happen, when I am off work for the summer, or on breaks during the year.  They will, however, tend to be more spontaneous, and “out of the box”, in terms of where and when.

I am also finding myself being more sensible in managing resources.  This, oddly, derives from being more detached from needing those resources.  Thus, I can step back, look at a given situation, and make the correct choice, for me, whether it be frugal or generous.

Being more relaxed and engaged with people is another bonus I have taken from this book. The notion of totally letting go of past hurts, minor slights and misunderstandings is something that could benefit all of us.  It will actually result in better sleep, more energy during the day and faster metabolism.  I am looking forward to further learning what he has to say about personal resurgence.

True Diamonds

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Posted by on in Family, Striving

March 5, 2016, Chula Vista-

I laid a diamond in a vault,

Some five years ago today.

A hatchling gem sprouted wings,

and  found his own way.

Much happened to burnish

away the rough,

both for mother and for son.

I think of those who have not

seen their shine,

It’s for them that my tears run.

 

Nooses

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

February 24, 2016, Prescott-  In “To Kill A Mockingbird”, Scout reminds one of the racist men that he, too, is a father.  The man then walks away from a hateful mob.  I was reminded of that scene, this evening, when a “racially-mixed” couple made a presentation, on their experience living here in this largely Libertarian city.  It seems that, not so many years ago, a noose was tied and left hanging, from a tree branch in their front yard.  While many treat them well, there are those I have historically viewed as misfits, trying to make those they view as square pegs, fit into round holes of their imaginations.

We each set a noose to a tree, at some point in our lives. Usually, it’s the noose of blame- intended for someone else, as a way of evading responsibility.  Sometimes, it’s the noose of “Us vs. Them”.  Other times, the “wagons in a circle” noose hangs, from the branch of imbalance.  We certainly see lots of these, of late.

The worst nooses of all, though, are those we set for ourselves.  The noose of anger, or that of addiction, lead us to swing from some unsightly branches.  The noose of self-pity, now, there’s one I have to work especially hard to keep off my neck, at times.

I am getting better at facing such traps, and cutting them down, before finding myself looking at a victim- or being one.  It’s been nearly 24 years since we heard, from a flawed, but cogent, voice:  “Can’t we all just get along?”

Prehensile

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Posted by on in Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

February 23, 2016, Prescott- 

Northern lights, prehensile, love in all its forms, dish soap

I have often struggled, over the years, to understand the motives and behaviour of my contemporaries and certain of my elders.  Children and teens, especially since I have “grown up” are easier to “grasp”, in terms of what makes them tick.

I have done better in understanding people of all ages, over the past five or six years, having seen, firsthand,  how stress and anxiety can lead good people to hurt others.  God knows, I have dished out a few hurts, myself, and also because of stress.

Lubricants, of various kinds, from dish soap to sweet nothings, can ease much pain and lend to the solution of all kinds of problems.  Their partner in so doing is love, in all its forms.  I have written about love, of course, most recently on Valentine’s Day.  The expected earful, about love being far more than mere romance, was not long in coming.  To me, the fact is that love is the basis for the existence of the Universe.

The Creator’s Love for His creatures is evident in everything that is good, and in all the challenges that beset us, as well.  Some have faced sufficient challenges in this life, as to want to throw things at me, for having said this.  It remains, however, that challenges and problems are frequently the vehicles to illumination and understanding.  A physical example lies in the solar storms and flares that,,apparent.

I will write further about those realizations that have come to me, through trial, especially over the past twenty six years.  It is my goal to give rest to the adage, “There’s no fool like an old fool.”