The Harder the Resistance…

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June 13, 2022, Enid- I woke up nicely, in Gallup, though a bit groggy at first, after an interesting dream. In it, I was in a cabin, near what appears to be Badger Peak, just east of Prescott. There a Maine Coon cat which was my companion. I went outside to the outdoor shower, and when I came back, the kitty had been joined by a mountain lion, which paid me scant attention, as he was just sitting and looking out the window, much as a house cat might. I went out again and was hiking towards Prescott, on the Turley Trail. A rather large serval cat was following me, which was odd, as these cats are native to North Africa. Odder still, the serval was joined by others, who were led by a wolf, and they encircled me, closing in slowly but surely. Of a sudden, a growl and a crash through the brush produced the mountain lion, which first took out the wolf, biting him in the neck, then decimated several of the servals, causing the others to flee in panic. The dream ended with the lion, the Maine Coon and me, back in the cabin.

I had a nice, if long, drive to Enid today. It started with a delectable red chili burrito, one of the best I’ve ever had, in over thirty five years in the Southwest, at Glenn’s Bakery, on Gallup’s Near West Side. From there, after I bumbled along Santa Fe Avenue for a bit, I was headed east on I-40. A few construction projects (part of the New Mexico Governor’s highway improvement initiative) met me here and there, through Tucumcari. There was also a small dust storm near Milan, in the Black Rock country around Grants. Otherwise, it was clear sailing, from Gallup through Tucumcari, and on up through the Texas Panhandle to Dalhart and over to Woodward, just west of here. I took lunch at a rest stop near Wagon Wheel, watching a little girl who appeared confused and a rather scruffy individual who was watching her as well. The girl made her way safely to her mother’s side and the other individual went back to his truck. My monitoring role remained just that.

Late in the evening, I arrived at the home of John Glaze, a longtime friend here in Enid. His new dog, a rescue blue healer named “Hugs”, let me know, really fast, that my welcome would have to be earned. After being discouraged from snarling, by John, a few treats from me and John’s cat jumping up on my lap for some petting, “Hugs” changed his tune.

This brings me to the title of this post. Whenever one tries to do something big, or novel, there is resistance-usually from the powers that be. Note that, after the resignation of Richard Nixon from the Presidency, in 1974, the lords of finance and industry struck back with a vengeance, leading to the price increases and stock market declines that were dubbed “stagflation” by Nixon’s successor, Gerald R. Ford, and which bedeviled the tenure of Ford’s successor, Jimmy Carter. The Big Dogs got their wish, in 1980, with the election of Ronald Reagan.

I see the same thing happening now. Price increases, coupled with stock market declines-both seeming to be irreversible-except they aren’t. Even the Great Depression came to an end, because no one, no matter how self-important or greedy they are, individually or as a group, can destroy a society. The Big Dogs are doing nothing so much as shooting themselves in the feet, sowing the seeds of their own downfall, more than causing the permanent impoverishing of the common people.

I, and people like me, will continue to follow our hearts and do what we need to do. If most, or all, of our financial resources are stolen from us, we will generate new resources and keep on with what we are doing. I get this resolve from my maternal grandfather, who was told by the bankers, in the thick of the Great Depression, that they would soon own his house and his car. He never gave them either. My grandmother, and her fourth son, after she died, kept the house in the family name-until he died in 1994. His widow sold the house, of her own volition. It is still in private hands. The car was sold after Papa died, but only because Grandma never learned to drive. He taught his children: “Never give the puppet masters what they demand. God, alone, deserves our fealty.” That lesson was passed on to all of us grandkids.

Tomorrow, my journey will be relatively short- Enid to Sarcoxie, MO, where a paternal cousin and her family await.

Setting The Tone

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June 12, 2022, Gallup- There are, in every conversation, in every gathering of souls, a host of meanings that can be gleaned. Two online meetings today set the tone for my latest venture forth. In the morning, five of us focused on the progression of man, through stages of development and the notion, advanced by ‘Abdu’l-Baha, that there are seven means to reaching one’s true station, which is to carry over into the next life:  “First, through the knowledge of God. Second, through the love of God. Third, through faith. Fourth, through philanthropic deeds. Fifth, through self-sacrifice. Sixth, through severance from this world. Seventh, through sanctity and holiness.”-‘Abdu’l-Baha, “The Divine Art of Living”,Section 3, #10.

For simplicity’s sake, one can substitute whatever term you wish to use in reference to the Supreme Being, for God. The quest is essentially the same process. Knowing and loving that which you determine to be Supreme is essential for any sort of meaningful personal growth. Faith, the third element, should not be blind, but based on that knowledge and love, coupled with the understanding that one has a measure of responsibility for one’s own advancement. Thus the dictum: “God helps those who help themselves.”. The other four means will be discussed in the next several posts.

In the afternoon, seven spiritual leaders, representing three Christian denominations, Judaism, Buddhism, Sufi Islam and Baha’i, offered essentially congruent views on Race Amity. It is obvious to all people of good will and peaceful intent that Mankind is One. There are differences of opinion, thankfully not part of that meeting, with regard to the events of the past and current responsibility for further progress in Race Amity. While we move away from strict adherence to the “Melting Pot” concept, it is useful to recognize that we do have many things in common-not just as Americans, but as Humans. It is also wise, we all concluded, to celebrate each person’s, and each culture’s, uniqueness.

With that, it was back to the mundane world of packing and loading the car. I was off, from Prescott, around 4:30. At 6:15, a brief stop at Homolovi State Park, north of Winslow, let me discharge a cultural obligation, returning a small object that Penny had been given, years ago, to the ground from whence it came.

With the tone thus set for a spiritual and socially-connected journey, I headed for this old mining town, and settled in at Colonial Motel for the evening. Looking in the mirror, of my room, I saw why the clerk was a bit unnerved by my presence- sunscreen had not been properly rubbed in and was smeared in spots along my ears and face. Then, too, what’s left of my hair was all over the place. I could have auditioned for the role of a goblin in “Labyrinth”! Oh, well. The room is clean and comfortable, and it’s time for a rest.

Heat Haze

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June 11, 2022- As I walked around the Farmers’ Market today, I was struck by the fact that people I’ve known for eleven years seemed oddly disconnected. A friend who was with it figured the others were just struggling with the heat, which always seems worse, just before the monsoons hit. As a nearby community had rain in buckets, yesterday, this makes a fair amount of sense.

Tomorrow is supposed to be the hottest of days, then it is forecast that the area will see a slight decrease in temperature. I would not be surprised if I drive into rain, tomorrow afternoon, on the first leg of a journey east and north. There are many who either have, or are, embarking on journeys of this type. One said he is doing this to stick it to the “Big Dogs”, who he sees as simultaneously jacking up gas prices and selling off large amounts of stock. That seems a bit simplistic, but nothing surprises me anymore.

I do agree with him, that we need not ask permission of anyone, before following our inner promptings. At the same time, one has to keep an eye on reality and be happy with as much of those inner promptings as may be successfully realized. There is always a reason why some goals must be left for a later date. For example, my original plan to visit Newfoundland was made in 2013, but other concerns took precedence, that summer. I had a plan to try again to visit that island, in 2020, and we all know what got in everyone’s way then. This year seems like the right time, and I will still be happy with wherever I manage to get.

The Universe and spirit guides point us in a certain direction, but it is our own purity of motive that will get us there and back. I pray to not be misdirected by the haze of a hot temper or foggy logic.

“Why Are You Here?”

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June 9, 2022- The security official was asking this question, that was legitimate to his job, as I entered the Border Station, in Sidney, BC, seven years ago. He added an odd second question to the “purpose of travel” query: “Why would someone from Arizona be on the West Coast?” My answer to both was “Visiting Victoria”, which was indeed the purpose of my short stay-as there was a First Nations Festival that day, and I was prompted to go there for that.

This comes to mind because, in setting the course of my upcoming cross-continental journey, I have been asked “Why are you coming HERE?”, with regard to a couple of places. Truth be known, I can’t always articulate, in tangible terms, why I follow spirit prompts. Often, it is not clear even to me, until I arrive in a place. I understand that not everyone is that in touch with inner vision or spirit guides- so many dear souls have all they can do to make sense of their physical reality. No one is under any obligation to greet me, and I think no less of them if they don’t-it just means that the time is not right.

Conversely, though, there is enough restriction put on us, for various reasons. We need not place additional shackles on one another. So, I will only ask, if I call on people and the time is not right-leave it at that and do what you need to do for self and loved ones. I will do better at sharing my inner promptings, than perhaps has been done in the past, so maybe these journeys will be better understood, but I will not ignore them.

With that, I will go down to Phoenix, where it is hotter than blazes, this afternoon, to visit Penny’s graveside and join a friend at a coffee house endeavour he is making. Those are my spirit promptings for the day.

Steps Forward, and Dealing With Walls

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May 27, 2022- Saturn Vue got a thorough once-over. The innards are just fine, though it will get what is likely its first ever tune-up, in a week or so. The tires, shocks and struts will be replaced next week-they are also the originals, and though I have been quite gentle with the car, who knows what the original owner did? I have used my cars quite intensely, but generally speaking, I have taken good care of them. The two accidents made a liar out of me, probably, but neither were very much my fault, and out of the eleven cars I’ve owned, ten of them saw well over 100, 000 miles-and eight saw over 200 K.

I made a great deal of progress, planning the Atlantic Canada and hometown Saugus portions of my summer sojourn. These had time frames inherent in them, especially Fourth of July weekend, which as long as Mom is around, will have Saugus as part of the itinerary. Newfoundland, nine years after I originally planned on going there, is a ‘go’ this time. I had the choice of L’Anse aux Meadows, on the island’s northern tip, or St. Pierre, off the southern coast. An attempt was made to schedule both, but St. Pierre looks to be one of those places which need to be booked well in advance. Northern Newfoundland is very popular, also, yet I was able to find a place to stay up there. No matter- Atlantic Canada is vast, and I feel I’m being guided to the people and places that are most important to visit right now.

The focus is both on familiarizing people with Baha’i principles, and with networking for peace. The two are quite closely intertwined. Then, too, are the family connections which will always have a primary role in domestic travels.

Networks sometimes find a link in their chains getting broken. In planning a visit to the Baha’i Shrine, in Montreal, which was postponed from 2018 because of the break-in to my Elantra, I learned that Auberge Bishop, the lovely historic hostel where I stayed two nights and received so many personal affirmations, has fallen victim to gentrification in the name of status and prosperity. The area of St. Catherine’s is now a prime commercial scheme. I have found another hostel, closer to the Shrine, though, and won’t need to put the Vue at risk, in the Mount Royal auto danger zone. I can walk to the Shrine.

We must constantly face walls, if we are to get anywhere, and determine how to turn them into bridges. So it is with controlling violence at home, ending war abroad and finding peace within ourselves-not necessarily in that order. As with my personal missions, everything can’t be done at once, but with focus, they can be achieved incrementally.

Adjustments

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May 18, 2022- I arrived back at Home Base, early this afternoon, to a message that my semi-annual chiropractic evaluation is tomorrow afternoon. This pre-empts any errand of assistance to Phoenix, for at least a couple of weeks. Laying low tomorrow is actually a good thing, since a double charge at last night’s motel won’t be fixed for a few days-per bank protocol. Besides, my constant travel is raising a few eyebrows around here, as it does every so often.

There does seem to be a lot of spending, across the country, and in response, the financial markets are selling off as much as they can-partly to dissuade said spending, which I suppose is the markets’ way of cooling inflation. My own policy, with regard to money, is much like the one I have towards water: Use, minimally as possible, what is needed to achieve my purposes, and turn the spigot off, when I am in the scrubbing, or working, process. As long as the well is not totally dry, I’m good.

On another note, the three weeks ahead, as mentioned earlier, have a lot of cleaning, getting rid of stuff and generally pitching in with whatever service activities come up. One such involves helping with fire-wise clean-up, at our Baha’i camp, on Saturday. I am also keeping one eye on the fire and hurricane situation. Things are quiet now, but lulls tend to not last long. Time and money always ask for adjustments in their use.

The Soft Desert Landing

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May 17, 2022, Indio- Time was, that I would bull my way on back to Prescott, in either heat or cold, from a visit along the southern California coast. While I could still have done that, this afternoon, staying the night in this Colorado Desert town that has become something of a resort , in the style of Palm Springs, seemed prudent. It does my heart good to see Indio do well. The Coachella Music Festival, and a subsequent makeover of the area, have helped along those lines. Indio is not pretentious or hipster-like, in its relative prosperity, and most of my overnight neighbours are campesinos, looking for field work or whatever they can find.

Still, the eastern California desert is a fine place to rest, before the final alley-oop to Prescott, tomorrow. The rest of the week, once I get back, is full of activity-and includes service in Phoenix and near Flagstaff, as well as online activity around Home Base.

It was a pleasant stay, last night and this morning, at House of Trestles, in San Clemente. I could easily stay there again, especially as there are few hostels that would abide my joining a Baha’i online gathering, sans earphones. Dana Point, where I met longtime friend, J, for lunch, is also an ever-welcoming place. I enjoyed a cup of “Killer Dana” coffee, at CJ Beans, in the town’s central business district, then J and I had a nice meal at Harpoon Henry’s , along the harbour. There are proposals to “expand’ the harbour, owing to a shortage of boat slips. This would probably result in some shops and restaurants being closed and any remaining establishments being “upscale”, so as to generate revenue that would pay for the harbour expansion. I hope that doesn’t happen. More is not often better, when it comes to adding to already considerable material wealth.

Besides, with the rapid sequence of events, that occur without respect to wealth or social status, (i.e. the Laguna Niguel house fires), I get a feeling that too swift a move into scaling up, in either size or level, may be a fool’s errand.

Division Street, and The Bonsai That Unite

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May 16, 2022, San Clemente- The drunken man, professing White Supremacy, yelled at me to “Get lost”, as I walked along El Camino Real, in this Orange County beach town. I guess the t-shirt I’m wearing, with its Baha’i logo, set him off. I kept walking and he drove off.
Baha’u’llah does state that “Man is the supreme Talisman. Lack of a proper education, however, hath deprived him of that which he doth inherently possess.”- Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 259. Nowhere, of course, does He limit this bounty to any particular group of people.

Last night, at FOUND Hotel, in San Diego’s Little Italy, there were a few folks who were acting mighty lost, while saying they wished others-particularly the homeless who wanted to be let in, would get lost. No hostel, or residential hotel, is equipped to handle random homeless people wandering in off the streets. There has been progress made in sheltering, in many cities, but the task is looking Sisyphean. The number of units and condominia, catering to the uberwealthy are increasing at a rate outpacing those that provide for people in lower income brackets. Those who are experiencing homelessness, particularly in communities where housing costs are exorbitant-almost to an unconscionable level, are also finding their numbers increasing. Division Street, the nominal and actual social divider, of which Studs Terkel wrote in 1967, has become a metaphor for the country as a whole. Some hard decisions, regarding the accumulation of wealth, at the expense of a great many people, will need to be made in the not-too-distant future. Everyone will need to be at the table for this one.

I needed to change the channel in my head, after seeing so many people encamped in downtown San Diego, along Pacific Coast Highway and near Mission Beach. Revisiting Balboa Park’s Japanese Friendship Garden set the right tone. My focus was on the collection of bonsai, now at 18 and looking in on the koi, who were small when I was last there, in 2015.

Here are a few scenes from the Garden. The koi in the pond nearest the entrance have tripled in size, these past seven years.

Three types of bonsai: Pine, flowering and unflowered leafy are on display, in the Garden’s Bonsai Center.

My rejuvenation complete, it was an easy trip northward to Orange County, stopping briefly to complete some business at San Diego Baha’i Center, taking a detour to La Jolla’s sandy beach and another to La Cristianita Historic Site, in Camp Pendleton, which commemorates the first baptism in Alta California.

Tonight, I am comfortably at House of Trestles Hostel, amongst surfers and other lovers of the ocean. Here, everyone feels at home, even the dachshund-chihuahua mix.

The First Nation and the People of the Future

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May 15, 2022, San Diego- Today saw two focuses: First was a pair of meetings-one on the Hidden Words of Baha’u’llah, brief, but profound thoughts on spirituality and morality, which He intended to serve as instructions to those who were undertaking independent investigation of truth; the second, in mid-afternoon, was a presentation of two children’s books, each written about a powerful Black woman.

The people of the future will, perhaps after a fair amount of suffering and changes in society, recognize both intellectually AND emotionally, that mankind is one human race. That today’s presentation comes a day after a deluded young man drove two hundred miles, specifically to kill Black people (of whom eight were killed, along with two Whites, and three seriously wounded.), is no real coincidence. There is no real future for the philosophy of racial supremacy. The unity of the human race means that there will be no replacement of one group by another. Nor will there be a return to the oppression of one group by another.

After resting for a while, upon the conclusion of the second meeting, I made a return visit to Old Town San Diego. My focus this time was on the recognition of the area’s First Nation: Kumeyaay, formerly known as “Diegueno” and on the art of the Mexican people, prior to California’s passing into U. S. control. Here are some scenes of this visit.

The above scene honours the Pico Family, one of the San Diego area’s more prominent Mexican families of the early Nineteenth Century.

Below are two Mexican ollas, or water jugs, each with its own colours and designs.

I needed a change of pace for dinner, after enjoying a visit with friends at Harbor Breakfast, this morning and planning to return there again tomorrow. There was no better place than Cafe Gratitude, a vegan establishment, which titles its offerings with affirmations. Here is a description on the eatery’s window.

It was a most wondrous day, starting with the bright faces of Melissa and Maria, at Harbor, continuing at San Diego Baha’i Center (the site of Penny’s and my wedding, nearly forty years ago), continuing with the delightful stories of achievement this afternoon, the vibrance of Old Town and the healthy fare of Cafe Gratitude.

Round and Round I Went

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May 14, 2022,San Diego- It took 45 minutes to locate FOUND Hotel. The address is 505 West Grape Street, which is easy enough for those who recognize that the east-west surface streets in Little Italy are often bisected by Interstate 5, and its entrance/exit ramps, which feed large volumes of traffic onto Grape and Hawthorne Streets in particular. Add to that, the train and trolley tracks, with which I am at least a bit familiar, and locating a small hostel becomes an adventure in perseverance.

The other “fun” part was that Google Maps has the old phone number for FOUND, which loops ad nauseam and does nothing to connect. Hostelworld has the new number, which I called, and connected with Gabrielle, the office manager, instantly. Thus, 45 minutes did not turn into an hour. I am set for the next two days.

The day’s drive from Blythe to San Diego featured three traffic-tying accidents along California Highway 15, between Murrieta and Mira Mesa. Once past those, my air conditioner stopped complaining and worked just fine. (In traffic tie-ups, I have learned to turn off the A/C and open the windows, which works just fine in anything less than the blast furnace of a Sonoran Desert summer.) A return to an old favourite, Gramma’s Country Kitchen, in Banning, brought a fine Frisco Burger and Cole slaw. I also enjoyed pleasantries with Donna and Karen, who have greeted me at the counter, on various visits over the past eleven years. Donna is “Gramma”, running the establishment with her husband, who stays mostly in the office.

Going up and over the hill through Hemet and Menifee, then inching along, through the above-mentioned accidents, I still got to the hostel before 5. This evening, after grabbing a couple of slices at Mr. Moto Pizza, and a few words of greeting to two of my hostel mates, it was time for a visit to the Harbor. Here are scenes of sunset, in “America’s Favorite City”.

I walked back up to Little Italy, on the way back to FOUND Hotel, and came upon a lively crowd, enjoying the presentations of a DJ. Here is the fountain, around which little girls ran and shrieked with delight and different young people tried their hands-and feet, at somersaults.

Harbourside and Downtown were walls of sound this evening, thanks to the mid-Spring music fest. I am destined, it seems to happen upon such revelry, no matter where I go. Yes, life has its moments, but it’s generally sweet.