The Joyful Missionary

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June 15, 2022, Chicago- The tiny, well-attired lady called out to me, as I was getting ready to write down my fuel information, after filling up this morning, in Rolla, MO. She had a few hand-drawn hearts and a yellow cross, along with three free-verse prayers she had written down. I gave her a small amount of money for the yellow cross, which will be part of a gift to a friend. She explained she was going to Indianapolis. Dressed in Mennonite garb, and with a spirit that could light up any room, she definitely made my day even more pleasant than it had already been.

I enjoyed breakfast with my southwest Missouri paternal cousin, going over past and present happenings in our large brood. There are five aunts, about 42 cousins and all of our offspring (probably numbering 100+), on my father’s side. Mom’s family likely is close to that number as well. After a delightful hour or so of catch-up, at a small cafe called Granny Lee’s, I had a smooth drive through the Ozarks, around St. Louis and on up through Illinois.

A few accidents, especially a roll-over in the opposite direction, led to a most disturbing traffic jam across the highway, from just west of Rolla to a point ten miles east of town. I have been in a few of those tie-ups, so my heart definitely went out to those who were stuck. I am also concerned for the people affected by the floods in Yellowstone and the surrounding towns and those in Flagstaff, dealing with yet another fire. Given the capricious nature of disaster, this year, I have my Red Cross attire and credentials with me, just in case.

I am now in Chicago, at an underrated, but comfortable and clean motel called the Edgebrook, on West Touhy. This makes two nights in a row, of fine accommodations (Carthage Inn, in Carthage, MO is also worth the modest charge.) I am always glad to cap a long drive and encounters with nice people by getting a good night’s rest.

The Sooner State’s Northern Tier

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June 14, 2022, Carthage, MO- “Hugs” helped me get up this morning, and we both got friend John out the door, a bit earlier than might otherwise have been the case. No worries, as I used all the time given me, going across Oklahoma’s northern tier and J had time to do what he needed to do for his own health and well-being.

We started as we usually do, on such visits, with a breakfast sandwich from a gas station deli and coffee at Da Vinci, Enid’s premier coffee house chain. After conversation with John and one of his friends, it was time to head east again. This time, I stayed on Route 60, eastbound, as far as the turnoff to Neosho, MO, which was a bit further south than I wanted to go today.

Passing through towns like Pond Creek, Lamont, Tonkawa, Ponca City, Pawhuska, Bartlesville, Nowato and Vinita, I was struck by the increasing greenery-even though I have been through this area dozens of times. The difference today was that there was no Turnpike involved. I was able to enjoy the back side of the northern tier.

Ponca City has preserved the properties associated with Oklahoma’s tenth governor, Ernest Whitworth Marland, who was also a philanthropist, having made a fortune in the oil industry, but seeing no point in hoarding the money. His view of wealth was to spend it “like water on my people and my town (Ponca City).” The mansion and estate he shared with his gracious and socially passionate wife, Lydie, are now managed by Ponca City.

Here are some scenes of the mansion and grounds. The Marlands’ adopted son, George, is depicted here, greeting guests as they walk in from the parking lot.

‘Abdu’l-Baha identified philanthropy as the fourth means to spiritual progress. Mr. Marland’s record of contributing, both to the welfare of his employees and to the well-being of Oklahoma’s people, is a worthy counterweight to the seeming largesse he expended on his family and himself. He seemed to have transcended the distrust for the common man that was vocalized by his mentor, Andrew Carnegie, and he actively called for “bringing the New Deal to Oklahoma. In the wake of the Dust Bowl calamity, the state needed those programs, perhaps even more than many places in the coastal regions.

Wealth is not a negative attribute, when it is shared responsibly.

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.

“The Crypt is Breached”

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June 10, 2022- I did not watch the live broadcast of last night’s January 6 Committee hearings, preferring to wait until this morning, and viewing the key elements on You Tube. One of the most disturbing points involved the storming of the Crypt, below the U.S. Capitol Rotunda, and it was largely downhill from there. The Washington’s Tomb was not disturbed was most fortunate-and all the more so was the fact that ALL members of Congress, their staffs and the Vice President of the United States were kept out of harm’s way.

I do not discriminate against anyone, for their ideology, any more than for physical attributes, creed, sexual orientation or anything that the media might seek to use to foment discord. Those on the far right are as human as those on the far left, and anywhere in between. I cannot, and will not, however, excuse violence-especially on the order that took place on January 6, 2021-or for that matter, at various points during the summer prior.

While I also do not condone cheating in the electoral process, I also recognize that some will go to excessive lengths to re-work numbers and make it look like their side won, even when after two dozen audits, only about a dozen or so violations, at the local levels exclusively, have been unearthed.

I do not condone removing the rights and freedoms of one group of people, so that the rights of others can be preserved. Here’s the thing, though: Except in the minds of demagogues-and those of their most deluded followers, this need not happen in the United States of America-anymore. Freedom is not a zero-sum game. Lower and middle class whites should not lose their freedoms, but by the power of their own misdeeds. African-Americans, Latinos, First Nations members, Asian-Americans and anyone else “of colour”, likewise deserve the same freedoms, and should not lose these, but by the power of their own misdeeds.

We will all see what transpired, on January 6 and in the weeks and months both before and after it, in the hearings that take place over the coming weeks. The wheels of justice, whose gears grind in a way that makes frozen molasses seem like Niagara Falls in June, will eventually get the mission done, maybe even within the tenure of the current Attorney General. As my late father-in-law often remarked: “Hope springs infernal”.

My hope for all is that each of you do more thinking before acting than was done by anyone who breached the Capitol building and grounds, on that cold, sad day.

“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.

The Return of Sparkle

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June 8, 2022- This will be a short one, folks. The heat took a fair amount out of me today, and I am on a nettles and shepherd’s purse tea regimen, twice a day. This works as an astringent that will tighten up my still ample belly. Any work on one’s system is a challenge in the heat. I also visited the chiropractor, for a monthly adjustment and had a short workout at Planet Fitness, so I guess decrepitude is in the mind of the challenged.

I was most pleased to get the bathroom sink sparkly clean-and unclogged. Both were a simple matter, involving Barkeep’s Friend Cleanser, a scouring pad and a small brush (to clean the corners of the sink stopper. Sparkle is just good for the soul.

The last thing I had to clarify was just how much stuff I will bring with me, on the next journey. The POW memorabilia will stay in secure storage-save the framed medals, which will be transported by secure means. Yes, when it comes to other people’s stuff, I am bigger on security.

Having said that much, I actually feel better. Have a restful night, everyone!

The Cost of CC&Rs

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June 7, 2022- I read an article, a few minutes ago, about Great Salt Lake being in danger of becoming Great Salt Lick. In my lifetime, Salton Sea, Aral Sea and Arizona’s own Stoneman Lake have virtually disappeared. I have seen huge salt licks in Nevada, which, though tourist-sites on their own, do not provide sustenance to those who live nearby. They used to be part of Lake Lahontan, which is still large, but not the behemoth it once was.

The lake, though, is not what drew those whose choices are endangering it. They came for the mountains-the Wasatch Front, which borders the Salt Lake City-Provo-Brigham City metro area on the east. They are often forced by Homeowners Associations to use exorbitant amounts of water, to maintain the green lawns which the HOAs and their attorneys regard as essential to maintaining property values. Yet, here’s the rub: The very people on whom these lawyers depend for their communities’ survival will move, maybe en masse, if the lake is sacrificed for the grass AND the toxic soil that is left behind becomes windblown, creating the sort of haboobs that sometimes torment Phoenix and its eastern and southern suburbs. The difference is that the Salt Lake bed contains huge amounts of arsenic, which would be blown eastward, into the lungs of HOA directors and tenants alike. HOAs in the Phoenix area long ago began transitioning to xeriscapes in their neighbourhoods’ yards. My guess is that Utah, being also largely in a desert environment, will have little choice in the long run, but to do the same.

Then again, there are those bottom lines to consider.

Power, and Its Exercise

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June 6, 2022- Seventy-eight years ago, a huge force of Allied troops made landfall on Utah Beach, in Normandy and would go on to defeat those who used brute force, lies and deceit to hold onto power. Fifty-four years ago, Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated, possibly at the behest of those who treasured power above all else. Forty years ago, Penny and I took vows of marriage, with the promise of sharing the power that comes from mutual respect and love for one another, above all earthly considerations.

Of course, I still feel her presence, all day, every day. The spiritual connection, once made, never dissipates. She was behind me, from the moment I woke up, through my chores, and into an evening exercise session on Zoom, where I shared the significance of this day in my life. There was a time when I sensed we would have forty years together. We had twenty-nine, as husband and wife. We will have an eternity as helpmates, long after this life of mine has ended.

The power that we had came form transcending our two significant egos, and the egos of those around us, who sought to drive a wedge between us-largely because their own interpersonal experiences had been such a mess. We overcame a lot, the two of us, and I stayed her best friend, all through her decline and my facing down my own demons. We raised a fine son, who was my wingman, even in the midst of fighting battles of his own. In the end, it was he who made the right call, and let her transition in dignity.

Those who seek to take power by unsavory means may prevail for a time, but they will always fail, after a fashion. There is no power that lasts, without being shared.