The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 86: The Move, The Rest and The Second Move

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Service Activities, Striving

August 25, 2020, Alexandria, LA-

Our day began in Beaumont, with slight overcast but gathering clouds off to the south. Tropical Depression Marco had dissipated, with little effect on the coast. Hurricane Laura, on the other hand, was shaping up to be either a Category 3 or 4 storm.


So, the preparations began for our Red Cross team, called a “Strike Team”, so named for our specific mission. Ours is to be ready for the surge of people who are likely to come to this small city, in the center of Louisiana, in advance of Laura’s anticipated surge of 10-15 feet, just south of Lake Charles.

I had a dream, last Tuesday evening, that I would deploy to this city, which I know only from a news item about three girls transferring to a private school, some thirty-five years ago. The women have likely moved on, but Alexandria has grown a bit and has taken a place as a regional hub for the mid-state.

Getting back to our day’s itinerary, the call came to pack up and move out, so we were on the road by 10 a.m. Bye, bye, Beaumont. and two hours later, Bon Soir, Baton Rouge. We got settled in our rooms, I went over to a take-out only International House of Panckaes, got a burger, onion rings and a large lemonade, walked back in a brief shower, enjoyed lunch and laid down for a brief nap. Then, five minutes later- Up and out!

That was my shortest motel stay, ever-having never engaged in illicit affairs. We were once again on the road, this time to Alexandria. My dream having transpired, we engaged in setting up sleeping cots, bringing in basic supplies and getting a decent night’s rest. We are. presently, prepared to stay here, at Rapides Parish Coliseum, for 3-5 days. That, as we learned yesterday, is subject to change-at the command of the storm.

It is likely that Laura will hammer the west central to middle Gulf Coast and several hundred miles inland, then become a tropical depression, stretching from Arkansas to Cape Cod, via the Ohio Valley and mid-Atlantic Coast, before returning to tropical storm status and heading for Nova Scotia.

It”s going to be a long week for many-and we still have room in our hearts for those suffering from fires in California and in Globe, Arizona.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 85: Curbing the Projector

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Posted by on in collaborating, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

August 24, 2020, Beaumont-

As several of the planets of our solar system are in retrograde, in relation to Earth it is said that we each go back over old ground. In my case, I have found, in meditation, that I want to pull back from groups of people- and the more insular I perceive the group to be, the less I want to do with them, of late.

Group leaders seem to pick up on that, and I end up excluded more from discussions and more specific conversations. I know, deep down, what my own task is, in reflecting a more positive self-image in their presence. It is a matter of shutting off the aspects of my own being that end up being projected onto those whom I perceive as more “prominent”, “eminent”, “powerful”.

This old ground will be raked over, a few more times, until I can at long last manage to cease viewing myself, internally, as less worthy of being part of a given group-especially as I have been included, at least to some level. That this goes back to high school, which, in reality, was essentially a happy time for me- with only my self-concept occasionally getting in the way, is a sign that it is long past time to realize, and accept, how far I’ve come.

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The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 84: The Sodden Ground Trembles

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

August 23, 2020, Beaumont-

A tall, gracious young woman greeted us at the door to Cracker Barrel, which was the group’s dinner choice, this evening. Jarae then found herself to be our server. A delightful person brought delightful comfort food, and we continued to prepare, physically and mentally, for what could be a double whammy-or a bust.

What concerns me most about the Bayou Country-from Aransas Pass and Matagorda to the south, Spring and Katy to the west, Livingston and Lufkin to the north, and everything east, as far as Dothan, is that the ground is sodden, saturated. The bayoux, the creeks and the rivers can take some more water, but the ground around them is spongy and won’t absorb much more. Two storms in a row may or may not overwhelm the area, but they will deposit a goodly amount of water, and there will be twelve more weeks of Hurricane Season remaining, I see the potential for shades of 2005-and if you remember, we ran out of people names for storms that year, It even sent a hurricane into the South Atlantic-in January, 2006.

So, on that cheery note, I can only say, we are the A-Team, from Arizona, and LA/TX is in good hands.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 83: Readying for Converging Storms

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Striving

August 22, 2020, Beaumont-

I was up at 1 a.m. and at the Shuttle Bus stop by 2:15. We got to Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport at 4:30. Thereafter, I moved on autopilot through the check-in stand, on through security and found my way to the departure lounge-where I drifted in and out of sleep, whilst waiting for the 9 a.m. flight. Such is the process of catching a morning flight, by going from Prescott to Phoenix in an economical manner.

I slept for virtually the entire flight, waking long enough to help my seatmate find her seat belt buckle, lodged between our two seats. The flight itself was not unpleasant. Yes, we had to wear our masks the entire flight-as well as on the shuttle, in the terminal and in the departure lounge. In fact, I had the mask on all day, except for meals and whilst in the rental car.

After a fashion, the team ironed out bugs, regarding this evening’s lodging, when we will meet, via Microsoft Teams, tomorrow and who is going where, in the immediate few days ahead. I am on a team that will deploy to western Louisiana, if needed. Right now, I am resting in a motel room in this eastern Texas city, about an hour past Houston.

The whole reason for our being here is to face storms that will arrive in the area either Tuesday or Wednesday, as well as the flooding that may occur in their wake. I will keep you posted, as best I can.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 82: Call of Duty

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, impediments, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Striving

August 21, 2020-

I had a sense that this down time was getting too humdrum for the Universe’s liking. After a few minutes spent wrangling about the best way to counter sex trafficking, there came a phone call.

Two tropical storms are approaching the Gulf Coast states. Each is expected to hit that region on Tuesday, after wreaking havoc in diffferent parts of the Caribbean. The call was for me to go to Texas-specifically to Beaumont.

I’ve been in that area a few times, though not as a Disaster Response volunteer. I do know just how much water can fall in the bayou country-from Houston, south to Padre Island and east to Biloxi and Gulfport. Without going into detail, we volunteers need to be absolutely on game, ready to give any and all disaster victims our very best.

Someone pointed out, with regard to rescuing trafficking victims, that there is no room for hodgepodge or for guessing games. The level of professionalism needs to be at the very highest. The same is true, in a different theater of operations, with disaster relief.

I will keep in touch, from Beaumont and wherever else I may deploy, over the next several days.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 81: No Dichotomy

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 20, 2020-

I have written, on another medium, about both regarding the right of a human being to care for own body to be sacred and the right of a child to life as also being sacred. I see no contradiction between the two, but our society has allowed itself to view the two as somehow at variance, in certain cases.

I see this as one result of our movement away from the concept of the sacred. This does not specifically have to do with “unchurching” or movement away from long-established organized religions. It has more to do with the rising of uncertainty, of insecurity in people’s lives, in this time of massive, and sometimes instantaneous, transition. It opens the door for a relatively small number of people, with untoward views of how to attain population control, to seize control of a debate which did not even need to happen.

There will always be adults who are uncomfortable, even hostile, in the company of children. There will always be those who don’t understand the nurturance of infants and toddlers. They were either mistreated, or not treated at all, in their own infancy and childhood, or are of a temperament that doesn’t mesh well with the organic nature of child behaviour. They prize strict order and predictability in their world. These are the vanguard of the Abortion Lobby, and of the nascent Neo-Eugenics movement, which seeks to bring about social acceptance for the killing of newborns with certain disabilities.

That this segment of society should link arms with the political Left, that element who have, for so long been associated with inclusion, and who have been in the vanguard of genuine progress in the advancement of women, people of colour, sexual minorities and immigrants, is both cognitively dissonant and profoundly concerning. The linchpin here seems to be the right of a woman to decide what happens to her own body, a right that has always existed in the sight of God, but has, for so long a time, been slighted by patriarchal thinking.

A person who has been relegated to the back of the line, in self-determination, who has not been loved and nurtured by those around her, who feels totally alone and friendless, is easy prey for those who hold a skewed understanding of population control. Abortion of a pregnancy, which in cases of an unviable fetus may well be medically necessary, is now being promoted as a mere option, an elective procedure, one of many ways by which a person may exercise birth control. A subgroup of the Abortion Lobby has even hit upon the aborted fetus as a resource- a source of organs to be harvested, a source of Deoxyribonucleic Acid, a source of stem cells for research and for vaccines.

Women who are pregnant, regardless of circumstances, need and deserve to be completely enveloped in a culture of love. They neither need nor deserve judgement, from a standpoint of shallow morality, nor do they need or deserve to be the foils of those who, either consciously or unconsciously, detest infants and children, seeing the innocent and vulnerable as simply a means to an end. A loving culture feels the pain, sorrow and confusion of a woman or girl who is at wit’s end. A loving culture presents, and discusses with her, all the options available in this most personal and delicate of circumstances. It honours her informed and well-considered decision. It helps her heal.

Indeed, it is a shorter step than many in the Abortion Lobby realize, from the practice of their craft to the organized trafficking of children, a phenomenon from which the majority of abortionists would, no doubt, recoil in horror, but which nonetheless is a clear and present danger.

We, as a society, have one long-term choice-to return to a place in our hearts where all life is sacred.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 80: As Decades Have Passed

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Education, impediments, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

August 19, 2020-

I have been pondering, since early this morning, as to the nature of my decades, lived thus far.

Young mother, anticipation, rough birth.

World still aflame, born under the element of Fire

Walking alone at age of three; hairbrush to the backside

Loved pictures and songs; pile of 45s in a memorized order

Family in a ramshackle house, which soon became a decent home

Three became four, then five.

First grade, morning bell rung by teacher

Second grade, more families in the neighbourhood

Third grade, began reading like a pro; teacher was like an angel

Fourth grade- Sometime tyranny, worn-out, angry Reading Instructor, Long Division

1950-59 was the decade of inception.

Fifth grade- Hypersensitive, wary of the Principal, death of Grandma

Sixth grade-Attention Deficit Disorder, hospitalized for colon issues

Junior High School- Mischief, girls mattered, one fire followed another,

High School- Best years ever, I-the Individual, clueless about attire, scattered work habits

Post-Graduate- Flubbed first semester, Demon Alcohol, lack of coordination, Army Basic Training, Postal Clerk at Fort Myer, Saw Moon Landing, Missed Woodstock

1960-1969 was the decade of formation.

Army Years- Lost buddies in VietNam, protest marches and intel duty, personal investigation of combat theater, clueless in Sydney

Community College- Series of dates, series of flubs, community involvement, living away from home, living back at home, Quebec-Ville and Montreal, hitchhiking across the continent

University- Dorm year, rooming house, apartment life, incompetent as editor, successful as student, so/so as teaching intern, summer hotel work, Bachelor of Arts in Psychology

Maine years- Staying distant when asked, substitute teaching, tutoring, Teacher Aide, more Demon Alcohol, visits with extended family, two siblings married, all over the state and the Maritimes

Villa School- Saved by the West, attempted Math instruction, dormitory watch, all over the West and the country, San Diego and Disneyland

1970-1979 was the decade of instruction.

Graduate School years- Town House in a quiet neighbourhood, Zuni, Baha’i Faith, first real adult love, Master of Arts in Education (Counseling)

Tuba City Years- School Counselor, Newlywed, Pilgrimage to the Holy Land, London and Canterbury, death of Nana, death of a dentist friend, deaths of children, Guyana, wedding of Glenn & Barbie, Pine Ridge, Omaha Nation, Columbus Youth Conference, death of my father

Jeju Island- House husband for a semester, Work Visa wait time, grappling with cultural baggage, Baha’is of Korea, troubled expatriates, Visiting Professor of English, training teachers, birth of a son, back and forth across the Pacific, Baha’i International Pioneer

1980-89 was the decade of maturation.

Jeju 2.0- Facing the culture of sexual harassment, empowering women students, enjoying life with a toddler, standing at the Demarcation Line, honouring our elders

Navajo-Hopi 2.0- More School Counseling, active child protection, rescuing two girls, saving our son, losing youngest brother, addressing ambition, Lady the Dachshund, Baha’i homefront pioneer, Principal in two schools, Keams Canyon, Jeddito, Chilchinbeto, Salome

1990-99 was the decade of professional success.

The Active Urban years- Y2K, Mingus Mountain Academy, Kingswood Estates, Mesa Community College, substitute teaching, El Mirage Elementary, Fuhr chiropractic, Phoenix Baha’i newsletter, Sierra Pines Apartments, the house on Solar Drive

The Caretaker Years- Penny’s two falls, my fall into despair, more substitute teaching, WIS International, Southwest Network, Ironwood Elementary, Palo Verde Middle School, poor career choices, ASU West, President Obama at Penny’s graduation, two wrecked cars, Dr. Yau, hyperbaric oxygen, Stem Cell Therapy, six family weddings, Aram graduates High School

2000-09 was the decade of reckoning

Caretaking and Losing- Trillium Specialty Hospital, renovating and painting the house, MRSA, Dr. Desvignes, Chapter 7, John C. Lincoln Hospital, facing my demons, Odyssey Hospice, turning sixty, Durant’s Steak House, Penny’s transition

Feeling My Way- Aram in the Navy, Kim & Stu, short-selling house, Louhelen Baha’i School, meandering across the country, helping in-laws, moving to Prescott, Willow Creek Gardens, Pacific Coast and interior Northwest, Texas Circle, wayward Vision Quest, emotional overkill, death of father-in-law, D-Day Anniversary, Berga, World Cup celebrations, Rouen landmarks, Paris by day and night, Luxembourg National Day, Iolani Palace, Waikiki, Tiger Cruise

Settling in My Space- Arizona Avenue, Prescott Circle Trail, Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, southeast Alaska, BRIDGES Program, RISE Program, Prescott High School, southern California beach towns, Aram to Korea, Carson City-Reno family, Gulf Coast journey, cross-continental journeys, loss of two cars, break-in to a third, Red Cross, death of mother-in-law, semi-retirement, Do Terra Essential Oils, Aram & Yunhee, return to Korea

2010-19 was the decade of resilience

2020- 29 is the decade of endurance

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 79: That Which Hangs Heavy

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

August 18, 2020-

The air before a thunderstorm tends to sit, held in place by an almost perverse high pressure system, of anti-gravity. Eventually, as the sun’s influence wanes and evening draws near, the barometric pressure often falls, and the moisture being artificially held in abeyance will be released.

The same is true in human affairs. Those who thrive on artifice, and control of the masses, have gone to great lengths to devise systems by which this control may be monitored, adjusted and synthesized, so as to fit the ever-changing state of affairs, which seems to elude their initial grasp.

There is an old joke about the Brass Ring, that it is thinly coated with brass and is in fact largely iron. It comes with a magnet, carefully placed above it, which unseen manipulators swiftly lower, grabbing the ring and raising it up, away from the longing hands of the underdog. It’s a variation of “You can’t beat the system”, “Murphy’s Law”, “Business as usual is the only business that counts”, “Corporations are people, too”, “You can’t always get what you want”-and so on.

There are a couple of other truisms at play here: First, patience is a virtue. The young, and those who have waited forever for their just desserts, are understandably short on patience. We see this in the outbursts that initially came after the deaths of George Floyd and Brianna Taylor. We see it in the outbursts that continue, seemingly without purpose or direction, in cities like Portland and Seattle. We see it in the outbursts that DO have purpose, in Beirut and Belarus. Patience is a virtue, but so is purposeful, constructive action. The trick is in knowing when to turn off the patience and turn up the heat-without unintentionally scalding or singeing innocent bystanders.

Secondly, those whose purpose lies in control of others are not going to lie down and play dead-ever. The Far Right has been masterful at playing Donald Trump’s ego, and his insecurity, like a fiddle. It has been ingenious at drawing in the fanciful minds of the New Age community, the orderly, obedient and heartfelt members of the Fundamentalist Christian and Orthodox (as well as Conservative) Jewish communities and the business-minded, obedience-oriented legal immigrants from Asia and Latin America. It has an End Game, summed up by “He who has the gold, makes the rules”. It foresees an America divided into palaces and favelas. It envisions a gradual elimination of those who deviate from what it defines as the norm. It will play the Master Race card.

The Far Left, no less authoritarian than its identified opposite number, has mastered the Game of Shrillness: It has capitalized on the lingering fears of Nazism and Fascism, which are ever-present among both those whose lives are well-ahead of them and those whose best years are behind them. It has owned the Megaphone, snatching that device away from White Supremacy, while being careful not to give it up, too much, to Black Lives Matter. It has dangled the nebulous term “Antifa”, in front of people whose own mantra is “Just let me go to work, come home and enjoy my family.” The idea is to cow people into submission, by shouting: “What are you, a bunch of Neanderthals?”, to anyone not toeing the line of its agenda. Its End Game is that-It has no End Game, except perhaps that same, pesky, Master Race card, which will be face up-should more people buy into the false dichotomy between the lives of children and the rights of women, the concept that ridding mankind of the congenitally-disabled is a key to a healthy community, or the equally false notion that religion cannot co-exist with free will.

Time hangs heavy-just like precipitation that is stuck inside a cloud.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 78: Never Gone

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Posted by on in collaborating, Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Spiritual, Striving

August 17, 2020-

My brother woke me from my midday nap. I haven’t seen him, physically, in 26 years. Yet, today, his voice called to me, and I sensed it was to get up and do something, with the rest of my afternoon.

It’s good to have family around, even though I am physically alone, when in the apartment. I can sense Penny, my father, grandparents, in-laws, close uncles and aunts-and dear baby brother.

The President, speaking of his departed younger brother, summed it up- “We’ll see each other again.” Yes, this will be our ultimate affirmation of family. In some cases, people will understand family members better, on the other side. There won’t be any way to have a mud-wrestling match, so they may as well.

I treasure each encounter, each reminder and each little sign- including the animals, flowers, clouds and shaped rocks that I can at least imagine are sent my way-by the beloveds. Then, I hear the neighbours and their evening guests, enjoying the night air-as Paul Simon once sang, “out on the stoop.” I see the kids savouring, seizing, the last few minutes of twilight, on their bikes and boards. I feel the gentle caress on the back of my neck or on the heel of my foot-reassuring me that there is much left for me to do, savour, experience.

I check my e-mails, and there is a deal, from a reputable company, to visit Bhutan-any time in 2022. I’ll give that one a bit of thought, but it does have an appeal to it. I’ll see what the spirit guides have to say.

The Summer of the Rising Tides, Day 77: What If?

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

August 16, 2020-

Today was a day of minor blessings for people who live in the far western section of Yavapai County. Rain fell there, in areas that haven’t seen any moisture, since February. We got no rain here, but the cloud cover kept temperatures at a decent level.

A couple of commenters have raised the spectres of even worse conditions facing us, than this year has already brought. Three Gorges Dam, for one thing, is not in the most geologically stable area of China, which has frequent earthquakes, that are not as widely reported as perhaps they should be. Should that huge dam collapse, the impact on both the world economy and on climate will be clearly catastrophic. Rain would be intense, for weeks, if not months.

People around here, and in other dry areas of Western North America, may think that will be a blessing, but remember that nonporous caliche underlies desert sands. Anyone who has lived through flash floods, in the Sonoran, Chihuahuan or Mojave Deserts can attest to the altogether different set of issues that arise with too much water.

Thus, whether it comes down to having one’s own set plans for facing swift and fluid emergency situations, or establishing a framework for intentional communities-and actually making them happen, the time for knowing what one would do, in such cases, has been in place for the past fifteen years-at least, and is not getting any less urgent.

I have networked locally, for that very reason, and those of us who have connected with one another will be okay-for six months to a year. The scenarios some have described, would last longer than that-but the time frame I mention is at least a start.

Plan for the worst, hope for the best and dive deep, in learning to live together.