Boulders on Shoulders

17

December 5, 2017, Prescott- 

A young girl told an advice columnist that pressure, “from society”, for her to have sex with her boyfriend, felt like “a boulder on my shoulder”.

There is infinitely more to any given human being, of any age, than titillating, tintinnabulating, appealing to the weary and shopworn sensibilities of the jaded and the restless.

I’ve mentioned earlier that I work with two strikingly pretty women- one happily wed, one contentedly single- both young enough to be my daughters.  There is not a moment of the day when untoward thoughts cross my mind about either lady.

There are, on the edges of my life, a gorgeous mother and daughter, whom I treasure as friends.  The mother could become more than a friend- maybe, someday.  I keep our friendship in full perspective.  Moreover, nobody will ever, with impunity, lay an unkind hand on daughter- God has my word on that.  That young woman is the salt of the earth.

I suppose that could mean kudos to yours truly, but I will take a pass.  The above sentiments ought to be de rigeur, for each of us,male and female, who see all manner of  people, to whom we might be attracted, on a daily basis.

Yet, to me, the joy of living, what keeps me young, is in seeing a human being as a complete entity- in knowing and supporting his or her dreams, so long as those dreams don’t entail crushing the souls of others.

Boulders crush, when they are dislodged, and roll downhill.

Collateral

5

December 4,2017, Prescott-

(I watched an episode of “Law & Order:  Special Victims Unit”, this evening.  It dealt with several horrific family issues.  One was children as collateral damage.)

He may well never know

what a treasure

on which he turned his back.

It was a matter of disinterest,

on his part,

back then.

It is less than that ,

now.

I have seen

how well you  have done,

in spite of his disinterest.

Survivors often do

outlast those

who torment them,

who act as if they don’t

exist.

You have not only

continued to exist,

you have transcended.

You are masterful,

interested in a fine young man,

certain to make a solid mark,

both of your own,

and,  perhaps, together with him.

You are ever wondrous,

focused,

setting goals

that you have already

attained-

and we know,

there will be other goals.

They will be reached,

because you are

determined.

Your mother knows

just how high you will soar,

how many dreams

you have

and how hard you will

work to attain them.

I watch,

from the distance

that has been set for me.

I feel wonder,

pride at even being

in this observer’s seat

and, on occasion,

am invited to your sideline,

cheering for you, full tilt.

I know what he is missing.

It is the world.

 

 

The Next Thirty-three

13

December 3, 2017, Prescott-

My readership is fairly tired of me right now, so maybe this outlandish title will be a coup de gras.  Let me explain further, though.

Last weekend, my best friend and I were discussing the concept of aging.  I am a Baker’s Dozen years her senior, so the notion she raised- that humans could live to, let’s just say for now, well over 100, as a matter of course, is mentioned in the Bible.

I lost another friend, early this morning, who was 83.  By the same token, I have lost friends  who were 13, 18, 22, 37, 38 and 62, among many others.  My Mom’s first employer was 105, when the Call came.  It’s a most individual state of affairs.

I have a few, perhaps presumptuous, notions about my own future.  So, I am quietly formulating plans for the next 33 years, putting me exactly at 100, when those plans are up.  It’d be nice to share a lot of that time with BF, even given that we are both highly independent creatures, and are not co-dependent.  It’d also be nice to be absolutely of service to my family and to the wider community, again not being on top of either.  I am a human, not a drone or helicopter.

You know it, readership!  Trails and travel will always beckon, whether with my dear friend, with others in a group or alone.  Health and harmonious living, whether in my own place or in an intentional community, is the foundation of these plans.  Earning my way will never be taken for granted- as the eldest of five, I am hard-wired to do my share, and to look out for those I love.  That number has grown, drastically, since the days when we happily lived in a relatively small house.  It was cozy and it was loving.

So, 67 is with me, for slightly less than a year.  It will take me back east, twice (Late December and June), to BF’s, and other friends’ homes, whenever they need me and to various places around this beloved Southwest and thereabouts, when the call comes.  It will take me to work, and hopefully, not to task.  I will seek its aid, in making certain that I grow in love and that no one gets short shrift.

The “next thirty-three” doesn’t feel like such an outlandish theme, after all- if one year at a time.

The Lessons Over Time

4

December 1, 2017Prescott-

Another writer on this network, having just also celebrated a birthday, detailed a lesson learned for each year of her life.  Her post showed me that the adage, “Youth is wasted on the young”, is largely a fallacy.  Youth may be at a disadvantage, regarding total life lessons, but working under a supervisor who is half my age, I find that the lessons she has absorbed are being put to full use. She is arguably the most competent, save one other, of the many under whom I have worked, over the past 40 years. Son has risen in rank, an average of once a year, for every year of his military service.  Nieces and nephews, and their spouses, have each made themselves highly valuable in their chosen work.

It also follows that there is truth to :  “There’s no fool like an old fool”.  To be old AND foolish has nothing to do with dementia.  It has to do with arrogance and an odd form of narcissism.  So, now, we are seeing high and low alike being taken to the Village Woodshed, for being so arrogant as to build a lifestyle around deception, indiscipline and disrespect for others, based on their own proclivities.

I have not been free of transgressions against others, but when they have occurred, I have chosen the path of humility, submission to chastisement and atonement.  It’s just been better this way.  I can live, today, concerned about today’s tasks and planning for tomorrow, as needed.  From each faux pas, a lesson has been derived, that has just made me a better human being.

I am grateful that the lessons learned have import for the times in which we live, and will continue to apply in days and years to come.

Chapter 67

12

November 28, 2017, Prescott-

Two events occupied my time, this evening,

even as a creeping fatigue occupied my body.

The first was a  tableau of non-profit organizations,

one of which I am deeply connected:  Prescott Farmers Market.

The two young ladies who oversee it are like daughters to me,

never mind that their own fathers are fine men.

I made contact with several other NPO’s.

One was represented by a man with a handshake like a vise-grip.

He’s occupied with reaching out to fatherless boys,

so that grip is a good thing.

Another was represented by a man whose mind was elsewhere.

I spent a few minutes with him, anyway.

An hour later and eight miles away,

I joined an interfaith devotional.

The hostess served up a German chocolate cake,

complemented by another friend’s homemade Green Tea ice cream.

The hostess led a singalong,

which, to me, is best spent listening to her megaton voice.

“Happy Birthday”, though, was a genuine group effort.

I was starting to fade,

when it came my duty to cut the cake,

and was gently reminded of this.

Fade-out didn’t hit, full force,

until my head hit the pillow,

forty minutes after I bid my friends

thank you and good night.

Chapter 67 began

with a reminder of how much

I’m loved here,

and how fallible we each remain.

Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part LXVI: Days of Earnestness

13

November 22-26, 2017, across Arizona-

I cannot not serve others, even on holiday.  I am hard-wired to look for how best to relieve another’s pain and ennui, while finally having learned, thanks to my blessed departed wife, how to involve the other person in the solution to that suffering and ennui.

It comes to me, as to where I should go, on a given day, and who I should visit.  On Wednesday, with no prior schedule, I went out to Superior, to see my friends at Sun Flour Market.  I learned that my friend, whom I felt as if I’ve known forever, had left, to pursue other ventures.  I learned that my friend, who owns the enterprise, is facing a great personal challenge and that my unexpected visit, along with those of a few other friends, was most comforting.  No journey is ever wasted.

Thursday, Thanksgiving Day, was spent with my best friend and several of her family members.  It’s always a blessing to be with this woman, and my favourite holiday was no exception.  One of the other men carved the turkey, but I got the best job- trimming all the meat off the carcass, after dinner.  That, to me, has always been the most satisfying task- guaranteeing that there is plenty of meat for many a meal to come.

Friday morning, I went down to Phoenix, and visited a long-time friend who is entering the vacation rental business.  Here is a photo of the house in question.SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

If interested in a Phoenix getaway, check this one out: https://evolvevacationrental.com/387677.

After looking over the house and yard, I headed up to Cave Creek, lunch at Local Jonny’s and a couple of hours of hiking at Spur Cross Ranch Preserve.  I will have more to say, and show, about this lovely expanse, in a few posts from now, but here are a couple of scenes of Spur Cross Trail and its offshoots.

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Above is an oasis, built along Cottonwood Wash.

This is A’s stone ruin, which he built with his mom and grandma.

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Here is a Huhugam mano and metate, from the 11th Century.

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Spur Cross will see me again, soon.

Saturday morning found me up early and headed out the door by 6:30. A stop fro breakfast at Verde Cafe, Camp Verde, got me well-set for the rest of the drive to Native American Baha’i Institute, at Burntwater, on the Navajo Nation.  The occasion was the Light of Unity Art and Music Festival.  I bought a few things, and took several photos, mostly in low light.  The power was in the music and in the accompanying dance.  Here are a few scenes of the power that radiated outward.  Diversio,  The Treasure Crew and the venerable Benally family laid down that power.

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There is unstoppable power in unity.  I haven’t been up to visit the Dineh as often as I might.  My role is increasingly cast in Prescott and vicinity, but as another friend remarked, this afternoon, distance to a friend’s house is ever small.  I will support these great efforts as best I can.

Sunday, I happened over to my best friend’s sister’s house, and ordered a Christmas gift, as she is a rep for a nationally-known cosmetics firm.  This took a couple of hours, well-spent, discussing a variety of subjects, around the display table.

Now, it’s back to work and a satisfying routine.  When I wake up, I will be 67, and a whole new set of expectations come with that seemingly artificial renewal.

 

Friends Never Leave

4

November 26, 2017, Prescott- 

I admit it, I am behind the 8-ball on posts about this weekend, as far as my trips to Cave Creek, Phoenix and the Festival of Light and Unity at Native American Baha’i Institute are concerned.

It’s late, and I had a ton of stuff with which to deal today.  So, let me briefly deal with the most important item.

Lest a couple of my dearest friends get the feeling that I am trying to join them at the hip- rest assured:  You will see a bit less of me, over the next several days, except for when you WANT me to be around.  Those whom I haven’t seen, for a few days, weeks or months:  Well, if you are at the weekend events that Prescott is having, over the next three fins de semaine, we may well find each other close at hand.

My take is that friends are ever in one another’s heart, and so even if the physical or verbal contact doesn’t happen for a good long while, there are hundreds of people who go through my mind and heart, in the course of a day.

Now, I must sleep- as the work week begins in earnest, faster than one might think.

Thoughts on A Thanksgiving Just Past, and On Black Friday

4

November 24, 2017, Prescott-

Why do I wake in a state of love?

Perhaps it’s because the alternative

is nothing but a debilitating illusion.

I was treated to a fabulous Thanksgiving Dinner,

courtesy of my hard-working,

always conscientious

best friend,

and her younger daughter,

this daughter’s boyfriend

and BF’s middle sister.

I had the pleasure of

helping out,

before and after the meal.

Helping always makes

me feel a part of the lives

of those around me.

Thanksgiving has its

roots in our primal need,

as creatures,

to praise our Creator.

The Konda Reddy people,

of southern India,

praise their Lord,

when the wild mango ripens.

The Zuni, of western New Mexico,

offer thanks, each December,

by blessing the houses that

have been built or renovated,

during the course of the year.

The wise among us,

do similar things,

once a year.

They also offer thanks,

first thing in the morning

and last thing at night.

Thanksgiving is not

imposed by conquerors.

It is a gift of the heart.

The sweep of commerce,

leaving little sacred,

in its wake,

screams “DEALS!”,

even before one’s

heavenly meal,

is a thing of the past.

Again, today,

I think I’ll pass.

Bountiful

6

November 23, 2017, Prescott-

The day set aside

for giving thanks

as family,

has not failed me,

for a good many years.

All my married life,

we had blessed meals,

with a couple of minor mishaps,

here and there,

which never quite

detracted from the

overall amazing meals,

which we prepared.

about two-thirds

of the time.

The years of widowhood,

have sometimes seen me

the guest of our Navy,

enjoying copious amounts

of well-prepared food,

or my being somewhat

a guide to the splendours

of Julian Cafe.

This year, my son

is in Korea.

I am here,

and most fortunate

to have a fine chef

as a very special friend.

Her daughter is following

closely,

in those culinary

footsteps.

What my friend does,

she does with love in her heart.

So, it went

that one of the most bountiful

days of the year,

was once again blessed.

 

Prelude

8

November 22, 2017, Superior, AZ-

Standards were set,

then protested,

and ignored.

Protests were made,

and overruled.

There is freedom,

in obedience,

when rules are ethical

and standards are

well within reason.

A perfect place,

a desirable site,

acknowledges

and honours

its environment.

These are lessons

that a kind soul

tried to impart.

Now, the kind soul

faces unforeseen

challenges

of  a different sort.

I’m glad I came here,

to be of comfort.