A Dozen Years

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March 5, 2023- Last night, an extended family member took her last breath and left behind many years of suffering. Hers was a voice of truth, at times hard to hear-but a voice that needed to be heard, nonetheless. Her passing was a bookend to Penny’s transition, twelve years ago today.

I’ve taken stock, a fair number of times since, of my “solo” journey-that hasn’t actually been taken alone. It’s worth looking back, though, every so often. Since bidding her adieu, I have sold a house, on my in-law’s behalf, settled into a solid one-bedroom apartment, gone through five cars, seen the marriage of our son to a strong, confident and beautiful woman, visited forty-eight states (only Montana and North Dakota remain unvisited) and six countries, completed two long local hiking trails (albeit in sections) and volunteered with five organizations, besides my Faith Community.

Most important, though, are the friendships made-both long-lasting and fleeting. Some have also gone on to the next level of existence. A couple have been lost, through miscommunication and the interference of those who saw me as some sort of threat. A few others have turned out to be nefarious, and had to be cast aside. Most, though, will be in my circle until death separates us, albeit temporarily. They will always be in my heart.

There is no real Master Plan to any of this-three of the cars were wrecked by the actions of other people and one just wore out; the house was sold because of a double-taxation scheme, in another state; the travel is a combination of who I am as a person and urges to see people who live far from here. The hikes are also a reflection of who I am, besides being a good way to help with one of my current focuses-weight reduction.

Yet, in another sense, I do follow a Master Plan-one which all of us follow, either wittingly or unwittingly: The Major Plan of the Creator. I am in awe of all that has happened in my life, particularly over the past forty years, and especially over the past twelve. Much, I know, remains to be rolled out, and I look forward to it all, the easy and the hard alike.

Transactional

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February 23, 2023- The toddler was unequivocal in her expression, as toddlers can be. She wanted one specific item, and only that item-and what was Daddy doing with it, anyway? (He was keeping it safe from being scratched or broken, but minor details get lost in the shuffle.) Once she got the binky, all was right with the Universe.

A good many of us are transactional in our relationships, wanting one thing and only that one thing, from a friend or family member. This is the root of many a conflict, as I, for instance, may not value your binky, the way you do. I may not prioritize sitting by the window, waiting to be called for one reason or another. I also may not prioritize getting in the car and driving back to the place from which I just came, because I missed seeing someone, due to a change in their schedule. What I do prioritize is what helps those who have been marginalized, what brings people together, especially those who have historically been set against one another-even if that separation is due to the egotism of one or another-or both. I prioritize clear communication and the well-being of both individuals and people as a group. I have learned to prioritize my own needs, as well, since if I am incapacitated, I can’t help anyone.

Rant over. The day actually went well, even though an old friend was not available, due to circumstances that were made clear to me, after I got back to Home Base. The snow, en route, was light and did not affect traffic at all. There was some sort of mishap, between Casa Grande and Phoenix, going in the opposite direction on I-10. Traffic heading south appeared to be backed up for nearly six miles. Our traffic pattern was slow, but not backed up, and it took about fifty minutes to go from the southeast corner (Sun Lakes) to the northwest (Anthem) part of Metro Phoenix.

Earlier, I found a delightful little cafe in Patagonia, where I enjoyed coffee and a simple bowl of steel-cut oatmeal. Common Grounds was the site of the family encounter mentioned above, and is a relaxed place, with flexible ordering from the menu. A few others were able to get customized breakfasts, while I was there-and the food is of good quality.

Once checked out of Stage Stop Hotel, I drove to Nogales- taking in Primeria Alta Historical Museum, which offers balanced exhibits on the effects of Mexican history on border towns, the impact of the Buffalo Soldiers camp on life in Nogales and a special tribute to the women of Nogales and their impact. Charles Mingus, the great jazz musician and spiritualist, was born and raised in Nogales, and Mexican rhythms flow through his work, just as Blues and Gospel do. There is also an exhibit on the rancher, Pete Kitchen, and his evolved relationship with the Apaches, particularly with Cochise and his son, Chise.

Pimeria Alta Historical Museum, Nogales

The ties with Mexico are duly celebrated, of course, and in no better form than a triptych of Mexican history by Salvador Corona, who took up painting after retiring from his career as a matador. He covers the time before Spanish conquest, the meeting of Moctezuma and Cortez and the days of Spanish rule.

“Pre-Conquest”, by Salvador Corona
“Moctezuma Meets Cortez”, by Salvador Corona
“Colonial Era”, by Salvador Corona

The life and achievements of Father Eusebio Kino, who founded several Missions, in what is now Sonora, as well as in Arizona, is covered at length here as well. He is best known for having established the Mission at San Xavier del Wac, southwest of Tucson.

Now my transactions are done for the day, and I sit here at Home Base, having driven pretty much nonstop, but at a leisurely pace, from Nogales. We’ll see what, if anything, this storm system brings over the weekend.

Instead Of…….

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February 22, 2023, Patagonia, AZ- No matter what one does in this life, there will always be someone who thinks something else should have been done, instead.

I’ve heard suggestions, albeit gentle, that:

Instead of being in southern Arizona right now, I should be back in Prescott, preparing to set up a storm shelter.

Instead of setting up a storm shelter, I should be helping out in understaffed schools.

Instead of doing my “own thing”, I should be checking with those who could really use my assistance, back at Home Base.

I’m not being singled out, by any means. The President, no matter who he (and someday, she) is has more suggestions as to how to do the job, than just about anyone on the planet. Witness how the zero sum crowd equates the current president’s visit to Kiyyiv with unconcern for East Liverpool, or for the Mexican border. Anyone else in a leadership role has similar experiences.

There is another type of “Instead of”. That is when a planned activity is a victim to changing circumstances, and being graceful calls for other activities to take its place.

Thus, on this journey, the ferocious winds and rain that came here, this morning, nixed a hike to the border, in Coronado National Monument. Instead, I came upon San Pedro House, about eight miles north of Sierra Vista, where I spent last night. A delightful, if less taxing, hike in a loop from the small house to the San Pedro River and back, about 1.5 miles, replaced the planned activity. The winds were not as fierce as they were further south and I got to pay homage to one of the last free-flowing rivers in the Southwest.

Here are a few scenes from the privately conserved area.

San Pedro House, Cochise County
San Pedro River, between Sierra Vista and Bisbee.
Willow and Cottonwood, San Pedro Interpretive Trail
San Pedro River, assuming a channel-like flow.
Green Kingfisher Pond, fed by the San Pedro.
Wind-whipped grass, San Pedro Interpretive Trail.
Wooden water bin, near San Pedro House.
Children once played in this cabin, under the live oak.
Secured utility pole, leaning from the high winds, Old Town Bisbee.

After leaving San Pedro House, I headed to Bisbee, hoping to take lunch at High Desert Market and Cafe. It was closed today, so instead I found Le Cornucopia Cafe, just across the street from this temporarily concerning scene, of a tottering utility pole which, as one onlooker put it, could have set all Old Bisbee on fire, had it toppled and set the wires to sparking. The situation was handled swiftly and well. As for Le Cornucopia, their curried lentil soup filled the simple lunch bill very nicely.

Finally, as the wind was still pretty intense and a mix of rain and snow was falling, as evening approached, I came into this old mining town, in northern Santa Cruz County-an area of Arizona that I had not visited previously. Sonoita and Patagonia are picturesque, with the latter having a charming “Old West” hotel. So, here I am at Stage Stop Inn, for the night.

Stage Stop Inn, Patagonia

It always pays to follow the heart. The Universe has yet to steer me wrong.

Nature and Nurture

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February 21, 2023, Sierra Vista- The day began, nicely enough, though it was raining in Superior. The rain continued, off and on, while I was taking in Boyce Thompson Arboretum, the town’s crown jewel. I have been here, three times before, but never under cloudy skies or when rain alternated between drenching shower and light drizzle. I was no worse for the wear; nor were any of the seventy or so others, including 57 fourth-and fifth-grade students, who did not let the weather get between them and the bountiful flora-with collections from various arid and semiarid areas around the globe. Starting with our own Sonoran Desert, the park takes in the neighbouring Chihuahuan, the Kalahari, western Sahara, the Mediterranean Rim, the deserts of Asia, of Australia and of South America.

Here are six scenes of nature, taking in its nutrients, on this mid-winter day.

East face of Picketpost Mountain, Boyce Thompson Arboretum
East face of Picketpost Mountain, as the fog is lifting.
Teddy Bear Cholla, rejoicing in the moisture.
Early blossoming camellias
A cardinal looks for food.
A pair of stone watchmen, east face of Picketpost Mountain.

There is much for me to visit, still, the next time I come this way: The Asian and South American desert gardens and Picketpost House, most specifically.

Next up was Biosphere II, the site of an experiment in enclosed living and recreation of natural environments, within that enclosed space. Two teams, each managing a separate mission, worked the space between 1991-1994. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biosphere_2. The space is presently owned and operated by the University of Arizona, which maintains the site in a good faith synergy with the original vision of Ed Bass and John P. Allen, who themselves were inspired by Buckminster Fuller’s “Spaceship Earth” project. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operating_Manual_for_Spaceship_Earth.

The site remains the largest closed ecological system ever created. Here are several photographs of the site, taken by my trusty camera, until it ran out of battery.

Staff residences and common building (right foreground), Biosphere II.
Overview of Main Campus, Biosphere II.
View of garden, Central Commons building
Freight Farm-the buildings in which hydroponic farming produces what is needed for the residents to live.
The Lung-which regulates air pressure, within the glass enclosure.
Fog-laden desert scape. This is one of many environments, created and maintained, within the glass-enclosed laboratory. Others include both High and Low Savanna, Rain Forest and Ocean.

Biosphere II was a noble effort, laid low by power-seeking and by human conflict. Nonetheless, the University of Arizona is giving the basic mission of the site its best shot. I am at a loss to succinctly describe the physics of LEO. This article may explain the concept, by which three landscapes are created on site. https://biosphere2.org/research/research-initiatives/landscape-evolution-observatory-leo

Superior Rising

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February 20, 2023 , Superior, AZ- The day started with heartwarming, and heart-rending, stories of Black artists of the 19th and 20th Centuries and the conflicted reaction of even the most prominent “abolitionists” of the Civil War era to women of colour who showed a gift for artistry. I confess that my blood boiled, hearing some of the stories. Every person deserves encouragement and a platform for prosocial gifts.

In the early afternoon, I slowly and deliberately made my way out of Prescott, stopping at Costco for gas and a quick lunch, in the overflow parking lot, and in Prescott Valley, to purchase nuts for snacking. Then, it was straight to this old mining town, which I had not visited since before COVID hit. The overall purpose, rain or shine tomorrow morning, is to re-visit Boyce Thompson Arboretum. This afternoon, though, I hit upon a rudimentary, but interesting, little walking loop, from Superior History Park, across the highway from Copper Mountain Motel, and northwestward across a footbridge, past Porter’s renovated Bar and Grill, then eastward into the small, but somewhat revitalized downtown.

Walking across the footbridge, I encountered a man walking with his infant daughter, who was just learning to walk and was gleefully taking steps along the metal bridge. I told them what a joy it was to see someone taking her first steps in such a delightful place. Dad lifted his baby girl up and showed her the dry, rocky bed of Queen Creek.

I kept going, past Porter’s, where a about a dozen people were enjoying the patio and several others were visible from the window. There is a fairly new park on the north side of Main Street, Besich Park, with a new pavilion. Where Sun Flour Boutique was, there is now Bella’s Marketplace and Cafe. Where the original Sun Flour Bakery and Coffee House was, there is now Random Boutique, where the curio shop was, and the more upscale Miners on Main in the old cafe section. Around the corner, heading back towards the highway underpass, is Superior Barmacy, also a dinner-only restaurant, with a small mural of the “Indian Wars” on its east wall. Such is Legends of Superior’s Downtown Loop Trail.

Here are some scenes of the trail.

Mining Elevator, Superior History Park
Picketpost Mountain, from Lower Queen Creek Canyon
Queen Creek, from the Legends Footbridge.
Hematite and copper boulder, Main Street, Superior
Besich Park, Superior
Apache Yavapai warriors, (Mural at Superior Barmacy Restaurant)
Queen Creek, from Stone Street Bridge, Superior

The night’s focus was a Baha’i study circle, which I facilitated on Zoom, focusing on social action. It is clear as day that there will be no end to the need for such a focus. For now, and for the foreseeable future, I will offer such acts of service, small and large, as the opportunities present themselves.

Truncated

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February 16, 2023- Two boys took up my attention, for much of the day-one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Both did their best to dodge work, but I have crafted my own style of dodging, over the years. Each young man was eased into completing at least two hours of work-at his own level and pace, but it was done willingly. I have heard that little good is ever achieved through the use of force-and I am seeing that it is true.

Today was the last day of four weeks worth of substitute teaching assignments. The work ended up being truncated, with snow and ice getting in the way of schooling- three weeks ago and again, yesterday. My first thoughts, on both occasions, were for the safety and well-being of all the affected children. It happened, on the first canceled day, that someone dropped the ball, just a tad, and a busload of students sat for an hour, then gave up and went home. The driver, for his part, kept them all safe and warm for that hour. The issue was communication, back and forth, at higher levels-probably including a call or two to state education officials. There is no truncating the safety of people, especially of children, and it is my understanding that lessons were learned by people long out of school.

My journey to southern Arizona is also truncated-and will be from noon on Monday to late Thursday afternoon or evening. The route will be circular and clockwise-to Superior, Biosphere II, Bisbee and Coronado National Monument, that I may finish a hike to the border, and head back up, through Sonoita, Patagonia and Tucson-making a call on an old friend, before getting back in time for activities on Friday morning-at the very least. Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and Kitt Peak will happen, later this Spring, as a separate journey.

Some things will never be truncated: My loyalty to, and love for, family and friends-even though I may not see or speak with them much. We will each meet again when it matters most. Just know you are never out of my consciousness.

Mind and Spirit, 2023

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January 3, 2023– I spent three hours or so, this afternoon, watching the film, Babylon, which deals with the experiences of four main characters, who are all linked by way of the debauchery of early Hollywood and the transition from silent film to “talkies”. It has a long time span, stretching from 1926 to 1952, and by the time one of the main characters dispatches his listless wife and daughter back to their hotel, choosing to himself take in Gene Kelly’s “Singing In The Rain” in a crowded cinema, his head is spinning from the memories that one film generates-as he had had a hand in trying to promote a talkie that featured the title song, in the early Thirties.

Babylon does not skimp on details of the Bohemian culture of the Roaring Twenties, nor on the hardheaded business culture that funded the fun and games-especially the drug trade which, then as now, was the means to mindlessness. With that I was again mindful that, in every age, each human soul must choose whether to follow the promptings of the body or to center thoughts and actions on the guidance of the Spirit, a guidance based in genuine love.

A few days ago, a correspondent asked of my goals for spiritual and intellectual growth for this Gregorian year. Three main goals, in each area, come to mind.

Spiritually, I will first continue attending and facilitating study circles that focus on personal and community development, based on Baha’i principles. My second goal is to maintain and extend spiritual ties to those in my personal network. Thirdly, I will continue and expand studies of Baha’i and older Scriptural writings.

Intellectually, my first goal is to actively read each day, outside of Scriptural study. My current pile of books consists of :”The Lost World of the Old Ones”, a study of southwest anthropology by David Roberts; “Prairie Erth”, William Least Heat Moon’s lengthy study of life in Chase County, Kansas; “John Adams”, by David McCullough. As I finish each book, another is added to the pile-and immediately waiting are “EcoVillages”, by Karen Litfin; “The Four Agreements”, by Alberto Villoldo; and a re-reading of “The Fifth Sacred Thing”, by Star Hawk.

Secondly, increasing the quality of my dialogues and other conversations with those in my network is a key goal. I recall the tiredness implied in the 1980s book “What Do You Say, After You Say Hello”, and how I bought into the notion that, particularly in interactions between males and females, there is a short leash of sorts which, Eric Berne rightly pointed out, deserves to be severed and a saner appeal to wider shared interests and explorations be the modus operandi in its place. One of my greatest regrets is letting that one-dimensional outlook guide me in my teens and twenties-and re-emerge, in a sense, after Penny’s death. Thankfully, my present network of friends is way past that mentality.

Thirdly, I will focus more, in my activities both here and further afield, taking more interest in intellectual community events, in this area, and spending more time in selected places, when on the road. I am reading, in this month’s National Geographic Magazine, that increasing the quality of intellectual activity does have a positive effect on limiting, even counteracting, dementia and other cerebral impairments.

As with other aspects of my life, specifics will ensue, as the year rolls on. It’ll be a rich one, for sure.

The How and The Who

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January 2, 2023- Every year, I go through what lies ahead-the What, the Where and usually the Why. This all ends up with kudos from the devoted dozen and yawns from the masses-as is to be expected, in a world of Information Overload. The fun is always in the actual doing.

I am feeling a change in energy, both the wider Field and within myself. It may be my age catching up, or an actual effect of the particular Universal Year, that cosmologists present to us. This is a 7-Universal Year, featuring the concept of Deep Soul Reflection. I do sense more of that, than I did even a few days ago, when Feminine Energy was still in effect, for those who noted that 2022 was a 6-Universal Year, and feminine action was front and center.

This effects how I go about doing things. There is to be more doing things in groups, which happened on occasion in 2022, especially on New Year’s Eve. I will, for certain this time, use more public transportation, in going across country- late April and early to mid-May, to the Pacific Northwest, BC and Alaska and September, to the Midwest and East Coast. Here in the Southwest, getting back to the Convergence mentality is in order. The energy I still feel is a connection to those who like to celebrate life, rather than passively observe. There will, no doubt, be plenty of time for the latter, in years yet to come.

Finally, the who is involved will be totally up to them. I am done pursuing those who need privacy or are otherwise unavailable. No one is being cut out of my life, who hasn’t already been, yet we each have dignity and I am not giving up mine, in a vain attempt to placate others. Family and friends are abundant in my life, so there’s no need for me to be clingy.

The year is sure to bring spiritual and intellectual growth. A friend asked, a few days ago, about my plans in those areas. More on that, tomorrow.

And So It’s Organic…..

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January 1, 2023- Fifteen of us celebrated the exit of another year, dining in relatively simple, but fine style, at a small, well-functioning Steak House, known as Dry Gulch on the northwest side of Prescott. I have celebrated my birthday there, in times past, when Penny and family were here to join in my passage of another trip around the Sun. Tales of a fellow diner’s climbs on Denali Peak and Cerro Aconcagua-and aborted attempts to get a climbing permit for the sixth highest mountain in the world (in the Tibetan Himalaya, no less) highlighted the general banter of people who I was, except for hiking buddy, Akuura, meeting for the first time.

With the meal finished, a bit after 10 p.m., a few of us headed towards downtown-the idea being to take in at least a bit of the festivities leading up to the Boot Drop-Prescott’s paean to Times Square’s ball. I ended up being the only one who actually made it to Courthouse Plaza, and Whiskey Row- and then, only for about forty minutes, enough time to bounce a bit, on the sidelines of the outdoor mosh pit that had formed in front of the performance stage and to enjoy the customary hot chocolate that has become a NYE tradition. A friend on Instagram posted “Sag-Somehow ends up with the most kisses”; not this Sagitarrian. Age and anonymity, as well as not staying for the actual Boot Drop, had a lot to do with that, no doubt. I went back to Home Base and ended up watching the Midnight Fireworks from my front patio.

Today brought early rain, then snow, which is still falling and which convinced me to be content with having had breakfast with fellow veterans and with getting my laundry done. The movie I’d planned to watch, at the local Picture Show Cinema, this evening, will wait until Tuesday’s matinee. There is plenty to read and to watch, here in my comfy abode. There is also the matter of “What’s next in SS world?”

That is where the organic nature of 2023 comes in. I have heard that this is a year for introspection, as opposed to frenetic expenditure of energy. Alaska, as well as Sedona and Bisbee, is a place where I have been given to such introspection and I have received opaque messages that a visit there, via the Northwest, is imminent-most likely late April to mid-May. I have a teen whom I am sponsoring through a child-centered agency. Visiting with him, in his country, is a possibility for October. In that case, I would also seek to spend time in one or two nearby countries. So far, though, the pull is strongest, here in the Southwest, with time gradually being set aside for various points elsewhere in Arizona, and New Mexico, over the next four months.

In this moment, the snow is increasing in intensity, so I am gladly sitting in my front room for the rest of the evening. Life is unfolding in an organic manner.

Things I’ve Learned

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December 31, 2022– As another Gregorian calendar year heads to the history books and memory n, what is most important, for an individual, are the lessons brought forward over the twelve months now past.

So, here are twelve things I’ve learned, some cogent, others banal-but all useful.

January- The border between the United States and Mexico is neither as chaotic as politicians away the border claim it is nor as smoothly functioning as it might be. I saw many content, focused people at the station in Douglas, AZ and no evidence of hordes of people sneaking through, at Coronado National Monument, a rural station, south of Sierra Vista.

February- Human beings, regardless of how they come to identify themselves, deserve the respect of those around them-and a keen listening ear. Losing someone who has not been completely understood by some of those around her was both unsettling and cautionary. Rest in Peace, Salem Hand.

March- Most of Man’s inhumanity to Man stems from insecurity. Andersonville showed the historical proof of that, both through its physical remnants and through the exhibits on Prisoners-of-War, both within this country and around the world. A more benign case occurred, in Miami Beach, stemming from a middle-aged man, having designs upon much younger women and threatening violence when I cautioned them about one aspect of his proposal.

April- There is no foolproof means of transport. Taking a train, when the route is secure, is a marvelous way to both see the countryside and to make good friends. The system is not without flaws, though, and a fire at a remote bridge resulted in my taking a Greyhound bus, between San Antonio and Tucson.

May- It is never too late in life for people to connect. An odd proposition was made to me, by someone much younger-and was quickly, if politely, deferred. On the other hand, two people who had been alone for several years, found each other and had a lovely garden wedding, making for several years of a solid bond.

June- There are still places where even brief inattention to surroundings can lead to discomfort, even momentarily. I found one briefly “wet” situation, checking out the depth of a bog. Fortunately, it was an “oops” moment, and caused no difficulty to me or anyone else.

July- You can go home again, but family is often going to be swamped with schedules, plans made at the last minute by spouses and friends, or just the crush of dealing with one of the greatest of American holidays.

August- No matter how well a car is maintained, the aftermath of a chain-reaction accident can lead to a total loss being declared, even 1.5 months after it occurs. So it was, for the vehicle that took me across seemingly ridiculous distances, with nary a squeak. Another person’s health issues led to Saturn Vue’s demise.

September- Not all Baha’i school events need include a heavy dose of scholarly presentations. Just being with children and youth, in crafting, dancing and fellowship, is as much a tonic for the soul as any engagement with intellectuals.

October- New friends, made in the wake of a bureaucratic flub, and clear across the continent, to boot, are as fine a result of a mistake as I can imagine. Three Bears Inn will be a place where I could definitely stay for several days, especially en route to the great mountain parks of the northern Rockies. It is all the sweeter when followed by a visit with dearly beloved friends, themselves so much like family.

November- Speaking of family, it is never necessary for my biological family to expend energy on my entertainment. They do so anyway, but just reveling in their presence and celebrating their achievements, is the finest way to spend any time-especially a holiday.

December- As an Old Guard increasingly passes from the scene, among my cohort of veterans, younger people are arising, in service to those who served our nation. I am also re-learning the rewards of patience, with those around me, as we all face increasing uncertainty. They need me, as much as I need them. I also need to be patient with myself.