January 14, 2025, Benson, AZ- The old centipede moved haltingly across the floor of my motel room. Whether it was its age, or the cold of the floor that stymied the creature, it was clear that the animal was not robust. I was able to get it into a trash basket, using a sheet of paper as a push vessel. From there, the centipede was placed outside, on some rocks that would warm up shortly thereafter.
I also got myself moving, a short time later, and after a light breakfast next door, at Gypsy Sisters Coffee and Tea House, it was time to head to Picketpost Trailhead, which intersects with the Arizona Trail, some five miles west of Superior. I have long wanted to climb the actual mountain by that name, but have found that the common trail at the south end of the peak is closed, due to a rock slide.
That left the magnificent Arnett Canyon, between the mountain that forms a western boundary for Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park and Picketpost Mountain’s 9-mile north to south expanse. Arnett is a mecca for wildflower enthusiasts, each Spring. Today, a good 2.5 months before any blooms appear, it was the rock formations, and small gems and minerals that commanded attention.
When I pulled into the parking lot for Picketpost Trailhead, I was pleased to see that three small groups were also preparing to take in the area. I did not want to be strictly alone for the duration of the hike. As it happened, a group of five women were on a search for Apache tears, the obsidian glass-like gems that dot the middle reaches of Arnett Canyon, near some copper mine tailings left by the predecessor of Resolution Copper, which now operates a limited enterprise east and south of Superior. They invited me to join them for a time, and I was thus able to gather nineteen of the droplets, with initial help from one of the women, who is a gemologist.
Some are, of course, shiny whilst others are rough. I may gently buff some of the less attractive stones, and leave others in a rough state.
Here are some scenes of Arnett Canyon and of its two mountain borders.
The Sun’s energy bathed Picketpost Mountain, in mid-morning.The majestic boundary of Boyce Thompson Arboretum is crowned by sahuaros.An exploratory cross-section shows the solidity of the sandstone that rises above Arnett Canyon.Towering sandstone figures leave much to the imagination.Even in this dry season, water finds a way to make its presence known.The Telegraph Fire (2021) caused a lot of damage in Arnett and nearby Alamo Canyon. This barrel cactus has stayed alive, while bearing the scars of the blaze.Wind can whip a fire, and it can also carry the seeds of plants over mountains. These date palms are from wind-blown seeds that came over the barrier mountain, from Boyce Thompson.Here is a makeshift arch that someone fashioned out of cholla cactus spines.As I came up a set of stairs, fashioned from stone, more sandstone guardians made themselves known.
Superior stands as yet another hub of wonders that dot the Southwest.
January 13, 2025, Superior, AZ- The Wolf Moon shone through my front window, keeping me company, as I read the morning paper, at Home Base I. Thirteen hours later, a sliver has darkened, and the night is quiet here, in the eastern foothills of the Superstition Mountains. The sub-range is also called Apache Tears Mountains, in reference to the gemstone that is quite common in these parts, and named for the tears of the survivors of warriors who rode their horses off a nearby cliff, rather than be captured. In reality the gems are flakes of obsidian.
I am spending the night at Copper Mountain Motel, where I stay when visiting Superior. Usually once a year, it is a joy to spend a few hours at Boyce Thompson Arboretum or a nearby wilderness area. Main Street is also worth an early morning visit, for the shops and Victorian hotel that have sprung up in recent years. These might be tomorrow morning’s agenda.
Today started with the Monday morning coffee group, which saw all regular members arrive fairly early and solve the major problems of the world. We will repeat that process next week, as for some reason, the problems just don’t stay solved. If at first you don’t succeed……
After carefully packing, and listening to a full moon meditation, I drove towards I-17, stopping to pick up a supplement and connecting to Sirius XM, so as to keep tabs on the Los Angeles fire situation. The heartbreak will be long in abating, even if not another inch should catch fire. Whilst en route here, U.S. 60 found many of us inching along, only to note that a major pile-up involving five vehicles, had taken place. I was saddened to see four or five people sitting on blankets beside the highway and looking stunned. Eight people, including an infant, had to be sent to hospital. The pain goes on. In Superior itself, I stopped at the Arizona Rest Area, only to see signs that said the waterline for the facility had broken-an oblique connection to the Los Angeles blazes. Thankfully, there is no blaze at present in this area.
A positive energy is flowing here tonight. After another nice meal at Los Hermanos, a place I first patronized in 1979, I walked back to the motel and took in another two episodes of “The Chosen”, Season 4. The series about the ministry of Jesus the Christ has its unsettling moments, yet affirms much of what I believe about the nature of faith.
In light and darkness, energy is often what you make it to be.
January 10, 2025- Someone close to me mentioned feeling a very strong presence, while in great discomfort a few days ago. There was a clear voice that said to stretch fully, and upon doing so, relief was felt almost immediately. This person was physically alone.
I have heard a voice, on occasion, usually telling me to get up. Since I live alone, it is quite apparent that a spirit guide is making sure I get to where I need to be. More subliminally, I get messages regarding which route I should take, when on the road, or even on routine drives back from the next town over. Once, the seemingly oddball route that was recommended took me by a lemonade stand, where the girls were raising money to buy their father a birthday gift. That was well worth the detour.
We are not separated from the departed by atmosphere and ionosphere. It is basically a matter of: We need a physical body in this life, and we don’t need one in the next. Higher level, to my understanding, refers to the level of functioning of a spirit, once released from the body. It is only a slight veil that separates us. I have felt departed relatives, and my late wife, Penny. Ironically, one afternoon while she was bedridden at home and we had taken a nap, she awoke before me and told me that she had seen my ancestors standing over me. I am certain she is doing the same now.
In what is probably a hybrid of spiritual promptings and common sense, I have determined it’s best to hold off on a planned San Diego visit, next week, as the weather forecast calls for more Santa Ana winds in that area, on the days I was planning to be there. I will head down to southern Arizona instead, and the days in March when I would have gone there will likely be a better time to go to SoCal.
The veil is thin enough, that we can get fine guidance, if we keep intuition keen.
January 7, 2025- The animated teacher spoke of a calamitous event in our nation’s recent history. He wanted to remind the adolescent students, themselves only vaguely aware of that particular incident, just how fleeting such memories can be, and how easily they can be manipulated by those with ulterior motives. This conversation will continue tomorrow, and perhaps for several more days.
The freedom we have in this country is worth cherishing. So are the love and friendship that have been built, sometimes over decades. So are the gifts that the Divine has imparted to each of us. I thought of these things all day, as once again, I was placed in a setting where I could focus on one or two students at a time, and key in on the boy or girl and specific needs. I will do this for the next two days, as well. Part of the task is to support the teachers in their explanations and foci. Thus do I go forward.
In an evening orientation, for a Baha’i family who are moving to one of the Native American communities where Penny, Aram and I once lived, I also focused on what is cherished by First Nations people. There are friends in that area who I have not seen for several years and others from whom I hear, every so often. The reality, though, is that were I to return to the place, I would be at least welcomed by some, as if I had never left. That is what I wish for this new family, provided they open their hearts to the people.
I will likewise always cherish the friendships I have made here in the Prescott area, over nearly fifteen years. Regardless of what transpires, these next several months, this will always be a Home Base of my heart. The same will be true of the Philippines, no matter how things turn out on my next visit.
Life is for the cherishing, not for the expectancy.
January 5, 2025- I have listened to two very different takes on this calendar year. The one, of which I wrote yesterday, was made with a hokey presentation but came across as very hopeful, though it involved other galaxies and beings of questionable status. The second, made by a cosmic advisor who is very much grounded in reality, pointed out that this is a year of simultaneous endings of old relationships and processes, and beginnings of new ones. 2024 was certainly a dress rehearsal for that, with the passing of my mother and several longtime friends. The speaker this morning said to remain grounded in a strong soulship, and not to be depressed or downhearted by any rapid changes in relationships, even if they are with those dearly loved. Other relationships and processes will replace those that end. Most importantly, she said it was never necessary to channel energy externally. All the strength one needs is within.
I reflected on my life up to now, not in a rigid decade-by-decade manner, but in terms of actual cycles. 1950-1964 was a time of firsts, and of thinking that I didn’t deserve a whole lot. So, when I did get nice things, I used them for a short time, then set them aside, except my books and records. Bicycles, weight sets, even a junior chemistry set, all were used just a bit, then set aside in the closet or downstairs, or in the case of the bikes-given to my siblings. I didn’t think I deserved friends, and so spent much time alone. It wasn’t until that became counterproductive, in eighth grade, that I started to rethink the matter.
1964-1968, the high school years, was a time of discovering the love I had for other people. Though I still regarded myself as unworthy (a sense that would be my shadow until fairly recently), grades were kept up, school events like dances drew me out and I worked at a job or two, with minimal success.
1969-1980 was a period of self-loathing. I functioned, but just barely, serving in a position of fair responsibility in the U.S. Army; earning Associate and Bachelor Degrees, being in the middle of my class in each; and working at both teaching and a smattering of part-time jobs, while still not exactly excelling at any of them.
1981-1997 was a high water mark. I earned a Master’s Degree, met and married my first true love, sired and raised a child, and actually made a difference in my professional work. Much of this came about because I embraced the Baha’i Faith, and in turn, embraced sobriety. The self-loathing was still there, but kept under wraps.
1998-2013 found me floundering again. My beloved was suffering and in declining health, and I was facing my own demons, though maintaining sobriety, helping our son navigate adolescence and fend off those who wanted to hurt him, and acting as my wife’s caretaker. Jobs came and went, but substitute teaching was my saving grace, and kept us with food on the table and a roof over our heads. For two years after Penny died, my struggles continued, until I finally began to regard myself as worthy of true self-respect.
2014-2024 has been another period of rising. I have rediscovered our country and the world, established genuine friendships and gained the respect of those who knew me when. Public service, mostly volunteer work, has helped me feel like a worthy part of a community. Most importantly, though, my self-loathing is gone. In maturity, I have faced down five people who tried to take away my self-esteem and embraced those who truly have my best interests at heart.
This year finds me at a crossroads. Someone dear to me may, or may not, be part of my future. She has her own path to follow. Either way, I am in a good place and am ready for whatever comes-continuity or seismic change. Never again will I blame myself, or anyone else, for what comes to pass. Everyone is on a journey all their own, and each deserves support from the others.
I briefly considered including Frank Sinatra’s song, “Cycles”, with this post. It doesn’t quite sum up my mood though. Instead, here’s Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”.
January 1, 2025- The format of the opening gives its message loud and clear: This is a place where YOU decide to go forward, or not. The half-gate, in Coconino National Forest, behind Sedona Red Rock Junior/Senior High School, offers entry to trails leading up Scheuerman Mountain and along the Scorpion-Pyramid route. Hiking Buddy and I chose to do the Scheuerman.
The gate that isn’t a gate.
So began the Year of the Open Gate. What I do this year is totally open-ended. I have plans and goals for the the first four weeks of the year: Spend next week working, in Prescott schools; visit friends in San Diego and Orange County, the following week; focus on Racial Healing and Justice, during Martin Luther King Day and its preceding/following days.
It is the end of January and the first half of February though, that will set the tone and the agenda, for the rest of the year and beyond. I will be in the Philippines, from January 28-February 18. That could well be the precursor to a major change in my life. The central message of a show I just finished watching, (“The Outpost”), is that each of us is responsible for making wise and independent choices, but I knew that. We will see what choices are made at that time.
Regardless, this year will see me constantly on the move-no surprise there-and ever in the company of family and friends. Plan A involves one set of moves and downsizing. Plan B involves other travel, and still some downsizing. Details will come as we go along, for reasons of prudence. This is not a year for announcing grand plans ahead of time.
In closing, here are some scenes from Scheuerman Mountain and Vista.
The icons of Sedona: Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, Courthouse Butte, Chicken Point and Airport Mesa are all visible from Scheuerman Vista.
December 31, 2024- When I was around nine or ten, Fad would amuse us, on car trips, by going fast up a hill and over the crest, which would lead to an excited sensation on the way down. The roller coaster-like feeling was something that made my sister and I encourage him to keep doing it. He did, for a while, and then resumed being an adult, showing us that there is a time to be jovial and a time to be focused.
Life has been that way each year since. 2024 was a year of consummate gladness-My son finishing his baccalaureate studies and preparing to re-enter the work force; my being able to spend time with family in Massachusetts, Maine, Pennsylvania and Texas; visiting friends in California, Nevada, Texas, Illinois, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, British Columbia, Washington and Oregon; making new connections in St. Pierre & Miquelon and in each of the aforementioned places; and making deeper friendships in the Philippines.
There was a lot of loss this year, as well: My mother, our family’s rock for so many decades, rejoined her husband, parents, siblings and youngest son, marking an end to her physical chapter of 95 years, 9 months and 20 days. Three strong women of faith- Marcia Brehmer, Michele Smith and Lynne Elliott, also went back to their Lord, after doing their level best to teach their families and friends to love one another-and to love humanity, without exception. Four men- Joe Landrigan, Verne Rupright, Johnny Murphy and Lennie Maes, seminal figures from my youth, who served their country and went on to live lives of quiet distinction, answered their final call of duty. The nation, and the world, said goodbye to former U.S. President Jimmy Carter, to freedom fighter Alexei Navalny and to artists Donald Sutherland, Melanie Safka, Nikki Giovanni, James Earl Jones, Chita Rivera, Dame Maggie Smith, Kris Kristofferson, Toby Keith and Quincy Jones.
Our rainbows soared, and came back to their bases, this past year. I gained the ability to more firmly navigate these peaks and valleys, knowing that there is so much more to do, so many questions left to be answered and so many challenges that may yet arise. The year now ending has brought me strength.
December 28, 2024- I have had pipe dreams, throughout my life. I once fantasized about walking across the globe. Then, I read of various women and men, including Paul Salopek (who is still at it), and thought of all I would be leaving behind, if I set out on such a venture. At the age of 74, doing such a thing would be little more than performance art. Other whimsies involved the Colorado Fourteeners (peaks that are 14 K feet or above); traveling from Utgiagvik (formerly Barrow), Alaska to Cabo de Hornos, Chile; the Appalachian, Continental Divide and Pacific Crest Trails and, for a few fleeting moments, Uelen, eastern Siberia to Cape Agulhas, South Africa.
As the years have passed, I found fulfillment in “lesser” pursuits. I have traveled a lot, yes, but with more of a purpose. Mainly, I found that being closer to family, taking part in a community over time and serving my Faith were more satisfying than always being alone. I learned from nearly thirty years of marriage-thirteen of which were spent caring for Penny, to one extent or another, that life never feels fulfilling, unless there is a deep connection with another soul. She’s been physically gone for nearly fourteen years, but is not gone. I sense her spiritual hand is behind my meeting another love, little more than a year ago. I got a message from K this morning, in fact. She’s as busy as I am, each in our own Home Base. It could come to pass that we have the same Home Base, but we’ll see.
My main reason for not being preoccupied with the stuff of whimsy, though, is that this is the age of working for peace, through group efforts. I’ve done more good this way. Even going through the torment that accompanied watching the declines of my first two loves (Mother and Penny) is preferable to living a dissolute existence. So will my work continue.
December 26, 2024, Santa Fe- A passing reference to this day being “the most boring day of the year” was made last night, as our Christmas celebration was winding down. It turned out to be anything but dull.
I drove across northeast Arizona and western New Mexico this morning, stopping only at Glenn’s Bakery, in Gallup, to get one of his exceptionally tasty red chili breakfast burritos, with no potatoes and lots of bacon and scrambled egg. The red chili salsa, cooked inside the burrito, makes all the difference.
Driving straight to Santa Fe, I found my friends at King’s Rest Court Inn were just getting finished cleaning the rooms, having been left high and dry by their regular cleaning crew. My room was, however, ready in five minutes’ time and a fine rest ensued, making up for last night’s long drive. There was then a small errand-purchasing new razor blades, after the one that I brought with me had broken at its clip. It is possible to use a safety blade with no handle. I did so this morning, but did not want to make it a habit. So, I drove through the interesting and chaotic parking lot near Target, finding that Santa Fe drivers hold their own in the aggression department. Carefully making my way into the store, I found it was almost as chaotic inside. Several confused people were in and out of each other’s way. No boredom here. I got my Dollar Shave Club razor 6-pack and headed back to King’s Rest.
On the way, a call from an old friend set up tomorrow’s agenda, for a project that will be tomorrow’s centerpiece. After talking with him and messaging the person for whom the project is being done, I went to The Pantry, owned by a large Spanish Land Grant family, who have become friends over the past five years. The hot burrito plate was perfect for this rather chilly day. Two burritos in one day will last me a while.
In the evening, I joined a Zoom call, to study the spiritual foundation of a Baha’i institution. After that meeting, there came yet another message, that a Baha’i is moving to the Hopi Nation, to serve as a medical professional. This brings a matter full circle, as one of the most active Baha’is in that area, when I first worked in Tuba City (1981-86), worked as the chief of the field in which the new practitioner will be serving. He died young, of natural causes. Now comes another, who I will be honoured to help orient to that unique and long-surviving culture.
2024, a year of intense activity, is not winding down. It will go out with a few bangs.
December 25, 2024, Winslow- I came upon the midnight clear, or close to it, into this small but vibrant community, which Jackson Browne once chose as a surrogate for nearby Flagstaff, in his song “Take It Easy”. Flag already had a lot going for it, being the Snow Capital of Arizona, and Winslow seemed to be both more “poetic” and in need of a boost, so “Standin’ on the corner in Winslow, Arizona…..”. it was. Besides, anyone who has ever driven along Route 66 in Flagstaff knows that the girl wasn’t slowing down on account of ol’ Jackson. She was merely stuck in the city’s legendary traffic.
Anyway, back to Christmas. In Home Base I, and across the Southwest, anyone looking for snow was out of luck. Christmas, and its antecedent, Yule, for that matter, does not depend on snow and cold to be truly meaningful. That hype simply has made a nicety out of the sheer terror that a hard winter can bring. In that regard, it is no different than the Ice Festivals and Winter Carnivals held in Quebec-Ville, Sapporo and the depths of the forest in the Saami lands of Scandinavia. Man carves joy out of adversity, and we survive to face a sometimes kindly, and other times frightful and tornado-riven, Spring.
What makes Christmas meaningful is the promise that the great Teacher, Whose birth is celebrated today, made in His ministry: “The Kingdom of God on Earth will come”. It’s taken a long, perhaps an excruciatingly long, time. We’ve approached peace among ourselves, only to scurry back to the shadow lands of conflict and warfare, countless times since the Day of Resurrection-and well before it. It will take a few more centuries, perhaps, but achieve peace, we will. Astrologers say the Aquarian Age will arrive sometime in the 26th Christian Century, sometime around 2534 AD/CE (591 Baha’i Era). I’ll be off weaving new planets, or whatever the Divine has in Mind for me, and my descendants will be of the sixth or seventh generation, by then. In any event, this theory squares with Baha’i Teachings, that the Golden Age, the Most Great Peace, will be in full flower around that time. How difficult a process that is will be determined by us, as a species.
I attended two gatherings today, that could be seen as harbingers for the sort of peace that humanity can build. In early afternoon, eight of us gathered at the grave site of a much-loved wife, mother, grandmother and friend. Her husband sang prayers, and sacred music that he had composed. The rest of us offered prayers for spiritual progress, healing and the well-being of humanity. Marcia was, no doubt, very pleased.
Later in the afternoon, thirteen of us gathered in the Spirit of Christ, at a friend’s home in the forest of Prescott’s west side. We shared the simple beauty of home made chili and cornbread, salad and three very rich desserts. Hot chocolate took the edge off the cold that came with nightfall. The toddler son of a young couple entertained us with his harmonica-each extended one-note generated applause from the adults, bringing his little face to radiance. His little sister was just glad to be in the loving arms of at least one of her parents, or grandmother, or aunt. We talked of everything from the operation of a dog-boarding facility to the approaching travels of two of us-a young lady to Costa Rica, for her first journey outside the U.S. and me, on my third visit to the Philippines. Both have elements of joy and promise, and elements of uncertainty. Undertaken in faith, though, the right thing will prevail.
Christmas is best observed as a day of simple beauty-and so it was today.
A Sagittarian Seeker 