Dystope

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February 9, 2017, Santee-  Last night, whilst my son was engaged in a “guild event’, related to a video gaming network to which he belongs, I took a short walk downstreet from the hotel.

Spotting a fenced-off area, which resembled a random back-to-nature scene, I crossed the street and walked around to a place where a few people had parked, and noticed them walking their dogs, on the lot.

It turns out to be an abandoned property, with boulders strewn about and a few remnants of buildings.  The locals are using it as something of a dog park and exercise yard.  If I were in Santee, for any appreciable length of time, I would certainly make regular use of it, as well.

The immediate impression I got, though, is that here is an example of what may become commonplace, if we lessen civic pride, even more than we already have.  The city of Santee is, in general, a well-kept place, so this is no judgment on it. My larger point is that Nature is quick to move in on what Man leaves behind.

To wit:

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This is a natural barbecue pit.

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Thus, I hope there is a grassroots effort to make the property a true park.  It’s time to say goodbye to a dystopian mindset.

Sixty-six for Sixty Six, Part VI: California Turnstile

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February 8, 2017, Santee-  I had not spent much time in San Diego’s eastern ‘burbs, prior to last night.  I was pleasantly surprised to find a homey little motel, Villa Embasadora, in El Cajon, a town I have previously associated with huge malls and Miles of Cars.  It is a working man’s motel, so my neighbours were up, and off to work, between 4-5:so, this morning.  After dawdling, online and with my prayer book, i headed off to find breakfast, around 8:15.

A further drive down East Main Street brought me to Pizza Stop, which, despite its name, is a highly popular gathering place for full American breakfasts.  I went inside, expecting to be seated by myself, perhaps at a corner table, away from home-schooling families and small groups of older ladies.  Surprise!  I no sooner had made my way to a two-chair table, when I was summoned to join a large group of my male age-mates.  Seems that eastern San Diego County, with a large population of retired military men, has three service clubs, which help provide security at San Diego’s football stadium, and other large public facilities, in the area.  Most of the men in the room  about 50, all told, were in their 60’s and 70’s.  It was like being at an American legion or VFW breakfast, only writ large.  The breakfasts are huge, keep-ya-full all day affairs.  The group gathers, Morning Lions Club-style, every two Wednesday mornings.  It was a great mid-week start to yet another transition in my life.

My son, Aram, heads to South Korea tomorrow, for a 1-2 year tour of duty, which may or may not be his Navy swansong.  While 2019 seems far-off, I know, from the freshness of memories from 2011, on to last year, that it will be upon us, sooner than realized.  So, as with any life event, we both have several contingency plans for that time.  (I’ve had contingency plans since I babysat my younger siblings, when our parents were out for the evening.  I was 11-13, and whenever they were late coming home, I had the phone numbers of my aunts and uncles at the ready.)  In the meantime, I headed up the road, to Santee, in the foothills of the Laguna Mountains, where Aram had some last-minute business.

I will relax at this Best Western, in Santee, until we head out, early tomorrow morning, to San Diego International Airport.  Once Aram is on his way to the TSA line, and other fun stuff, I will need to head straight back, towards Prescott, and my own present routine; thus, the “turnstile” aspect to this jaunt.

My next visit west, in June, will be to the north of here- from Orange County to Santa Barbara and Ojai.  By then, my son will be acclimated, once again, to life in Korea, the land of his birth.  Time will tell if I get back there, myself, during the next two years.

 

Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part V: Subsets of Love

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February 6, 2017, Prescott- In Baha’i Scripture, as well as in the Teachings of Christ, four kinds of love are identified:  The love of God for His Creation; the love of God for His children; the love of man for God and the love of man for man.

It is the fourth kind,  on which I will reflect, in this post.  There are several subsets of this type of love.  Some are obvious- Parental love, and its mirror image:  Filial love (which, in this context, applies to both sons and daughters).   The love one has for extended family is an outgrowth of parental and filial love. Love of spouse, likewise, in most cases extends to the spouse’s family.  Clan and tribe are the furthest biological love boundaries, traditionally.

Love for one’s neighbours and community takes this a step past the bounds of family.   Over time, this has found extension in the form of loyalty to state, country, civic organization, interest group (including political parties and service organizations) and faith community.  Love for all mankind is the furthest expression of inter-human love, and is regarded as the consummate goal of a Baha’i, in this physical plane.

Love can be expressed in various ways:  Gentle, patient suasion; forbearance; standing alongside the beloved; “tough” holding the beloved’s feet to fire, so to speak.  The goal of any human love, though, would seem to be helping the beloved to attain nearness to God and the development of his/her talents and abilities.  This isn’t always a simple task, and may entail a combination of the four ways mentioned, at the head of this paragraph.  A prime example of this is love of one’s opponents, or perceived enemies.  Seeing their good qualities, and not depriving them of basic human rights, is certainly an illustration of such.

St. Matthew wrote that such inter-human love is “not snide” and “does not put on airs”.  In the Baha’i Writings, it is stated that  “Love is the secret”, to all that is good in the Universe, and “In the world of existence, there is no greater power, than the power of love.”

May there be a ten-fold, or hundred-fold increase in the subsets of inter-human love.

 

Archangels

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February 4, 2017, Prescott- This afternoon, I finished reading “The Standing Stones Speak”.  Set in Carnac, France, British spiritualists Natasha Hoffman and Hamilton Hill detail a series of messages they claim to have received from archangels, on topics ranging from the existence of Atlantis to the progress of souls.

 

There are numerous references to Jesus, Mohammed, the brief primacy, in the not-to-distant future, of a “charismatic figure”, whose rule will be primarily in Europe and North America, and will last 3 1/2 years, before he is removed.  There are references to karma and reincarnation of souls, from one human body to the next, over  the past several thousand years, and that both karma and reincarnation will cease, in the very near future.  This will take place, the archangels say, because the “New Jerusalem”, mentioned in the Bible and, essentially, the true New World Order (the opposite of that which is, rightly, feared by devout Christians), will be built and will obviate the need for souls to constantly return in human form, in order to resolve their issues.

That is the gist of the archangels’ messages.  To me, these would conveniently explain my wistfulness and longing for the forest, for certain places in Europe, Alaska, the Pacific Northwest and the Rocky Mountains, being drawn to particular people and familiarity with certain situations, that I had not previously experienced.  I would need a lot more confirmation of these messages, from more authoritative spiritual texts, especially from the Baha’i Writings, before I would be “all-in” with the overall content of the messages in this book.

Nevertheless, the tone of the book is positive, encouraging of people to develop the goodly character of their souls, and to work, mightily, to seek spiritual advancement, through a righteous life- not in isolation, but among the people with whom we find ourselves.  Baha’u’llah teaches us to be of good character, in group settings, as well as individually, just as Jesus did.

I am continuing to read several Baha’i books, as well as “Apocalypse”, by Dr. Jim Richards and “Return to The Garden”, by Shakhti Gawain, in pondering this primal subject.

Soul Family

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February 3, 2017, Prescott-

I just read a post, by a friend who wishes to remain at a certain distance, both physical and fraternal.  She wrote of people with whom she feels exceptionally close, but who live far from her.  This got me thinking, once more, about my soul’s family.

My biological family, and Penny’s, to a one, scattered from Massachusetts and Maine, through Connecticut, New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, Georgia, Florida to Indiana, Missouri, Colorado, California and Oregon, perhaps, in and of themselves, justify my peripatetic nature.  Yet, they are also largely occasional in my life, and I, in theirs.

My son,  as well as my Baha’i family-here in Arizona, in Nevada, in Alaska, in South Korea and across the Atlantic, in Europe, are on their own paths, also, and will figure in mine, only to the extent that my path dovetails with theirs.

The same is true of each person in the web that my life has woven, across every state in the United States, much of Canada,the northeast tip of South America, a bit of eastern Asia, the State of Israel,the West Bank, and a slice of western Europe. The network of people whom I’ve met has been my greatest blessing, since the physical loss of my wife. It has been a rich series of life experiences.  I am hardly the world traveler that some see, especially compared with the many correspondents, whose work I read on Word Press, on a daily basis.  Yet, in every state, province and nation, there is at least one place, and often several, where I am well at home.

There are no strangers, anywhere, only friends I have not met.  This is not a cliche, at least not to me, and much more, I’ve been assured, is to come.

Inklings

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February 2, 2017, Prescott-

Many people gathered today, in Punxsutawney, PA, and learned from Phil, the Groundhog, that there will be six more weeks of winter.  I’ve heard it’s been a mild one, back east, so six weeks of rain would be a tad dreary, but not insurmountable- unless the rain comes in torrents.

Here, we seem to have had our winter.  SoCal is due for more rain, tomorrow, but not so our neck of the woods.  Of course, Mother Nature has this month and March, during which to send surprises our way.  I remember the year that St. Patrick’s Day saw snow, atop the White Tanks, west of Phoenix.

A few years ago, I read a book called “Awakening Intuition”, by Mona Lisa Schulz.  I learned that the “inklings” that I had, regarding what I was to do, during the years 2011-2015, were fairly clear.  Most of those were accomplished, with considerable help from unseen forces.

I am reading “The Standing Stones Speak”, by Jessica Hoffman and Hamilton Hill, which has what some regard as a “New Age” tone to it.  Since childhood, though, I have felt, strongly, that I am guided by both angels and my own ancestors, including my maternal grandfather, whom I never met, in this life.  What I have received from him, holds me to a high standard, both socially and spiritually.  Penny, in the last year of her life, told me that she saw my Native American ancestors, gathered around me, while I was napping.

I don’t doubt any of this, though some of my hard-headed friends would call it “Woo-woo stuff”, as there seems no practical or tangible value to it.  I have a different view, and we’ll leave it at that, for now.  Nonetheless, the spirit world is flexible, and some of the inklings I’ve had, have been changed.  In 2013, instead of going to Newfoundland, I stayed in the Boston area, and spent more time with my family, especially with my second brother, who was involved in Sail Blind, at the time.  Considering that I went through tortuous emotional issues, earlier that summer, it was probably best.  Last year, instead of going to Chile and Peru, I opted to go, domestically, East and South.  Considering that I got a message, in the middle of the trip, saying that my Nissan was making its last ride, the choice was apt.  As you all know, the Nissan did expire.

I’ve now been advised to work, full time, until either December, 2020 or May,2021.  There are other messages I’ve received, but those are best left for a later date.

Hearts, Black History and Chief Executives

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February 1, 2017, Prescott-

The Mini-Month is now upon us, with groundhogs galore waiting to be yanked out of the ground, tomorrow.  I know there will be many enlightening programs and articles about African-Americans, this month, but I think people should be fully honoured for their place in America’s story, and the stories of the world, EVERY month, and regardless of ethnicity.  Still, I’m glad the stories are getting out there.  Too many people still think Blacks, Native Americans, Latinos, Irish-Americans, and even women, collectively, are making up, or exaggerating, the past,  because “things aren’t so bad for ________________ NOW!” We  have to know our history, and know it well, for the very reason that too many people see things on the surface, and have short memories.

The Italian martyr, Valentino, has become a symbol of unconditional love and thus a day devoted to love- and romance- has taken the English form of his name.  St. Valentine’s Day falls on a work day, Tuesday, this year.  I will be giving the same unconditional love to my students that I offer, every day.

The following weekend will be Presidents’ Day, ostensibly to honour two of our greatest Chief Executives:  Washington and Lincoln, and, by extension, those of our presidents who have not harmed our nation.  Who they are, remains a matter of intense debate.  I have my opinion, but will not get into that, here.

Aram will leave for South Korea, in about a week.  I will be at San Diego International Airport, to see him off.  Then, each of us will get on with our respective duties, and other aspects of our lives.  For him, there will be some familiar aspects, as he was born, and spent his first three years of life, in Jeju, and shore duty will be more of a routine, than sea duty.  For me, the regimen will continue at school, the American Legion honours World War II’s Four Chaplains, my work for the Baha’i Faith goes on, and new outdoor adventures will present themselves- Scottsdale’s McDowell Mountains, the Verde Valley’s Limekiln Trail and, a slightly-delayed visit to Granite Mountain Hotshots Memorial State Park, in Yarnell.

It looks to be a fascinating 28 days.

Janus Blinks

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January 31, 2017, Prescott-

Reminiscences,

New Year’s Day, and a San Diego rain

More rain, as the nation remembered

Martin Luther King.

Chills in the air,

and chillblains,

in the lungs of many friends.

Two good workouts,

with snow to be removed.

Winter can’t help

but be fast about its business.

So, as the Sun gets higher,

in the northern sky,

boreal winds begin to fly.

Snowmen and frosty flakes

get nudged, ever so slightly,

by crocuses, roses and chocolate.

Sea of Trees

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January 30, 2017, Prescott-

Saturday evening, after my hike, I headed for a friend’s house, in Phoenix, where I spent the night.  I had experienced a fair amount of spiritual resonance, whilst on the trail, particularly in the alluvial stone deposits, just north of the New River. As I’m reading “The Standing Stones Speak”, which some of my more jaded friends regard as New Age hokum, I found a bit of a connection, through my meditation, between the book and the spiritual climate.

It was not a coincidence, in my view, that “The Sea of Trees”, a 2015 film that was slammed by hipster critics, was my friend’s Netflix choice for viewing, that evening.  Like the central character in the film, I was caretaker for a deathly-ill spouse.  The wife in the film was not ill for very long, though, and ended up being killed by a distracted driver, while riding in an ambulance (the one plot twist I had a hard time accepting, as I have never seen anyone T-bone an emergency vehicle, especially at a high rate of speed).

The protagonist and his wife struggled, at times, just as many couples do, when differences of life energy become personalized.  Penny and I worked through our issues, and ended strong.

When the protagonist chose to travel to a forest, east of Japan’s Mount Fuji, with the intent of committing suicide, he encountered another suicidal man, who was struggling to get out of the forest, as he had changed his mind.  Through trying to help the other man, he realizes his own suicidal impulses were not all that deep.  It turns out that his late wife’s spirit was working, through the presence of the other man, to help the protagonist work through his grief.

Again, this was no coincidence that we viewed this particular film.  I reflected that there have been so many times, in which Penny’s spirit has helped me, through one difficulty or another. This, it is apparent, is what loving spirits do for those they leave behind, here in the physical realm. Indeed, are there really any coincidences, at all?

Black Canyon National Recreation Trail: Some Other Beginning’s End

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January 28, 2017, Phoenix-  I completed my section-by-section exploration of the Black Canyon National Recreation Trail, this evening.  Biscuit Flat segment’s north trailhead lies across New River Road from Emery Henderson Day Use Area, so I parked there.

As the name indicates, the terrain here is FLAT!

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Thanks to recent rains, though, there was greenery aplenty and, as you will see, a river to be crossed.

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A ranch once occupied Biscuit Flat, just above the New River. Its remnants are still on view, in the forms of a wooden trough and some piles of stones, apparently set aside as building material.

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Sizable “rivers of stone”, on the north bank of the New River, indicate that the often-dry  river has had its moments of torrent.  I spent several minutes, contemplating these rather extensive, and deep, piles of debris.  I’ve read that rocks and minerals impart energy.  I certainly felt that, here.

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New River itself was the second sweet surprise.  It, too, was running and gave me a chance to get my feet wet.

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The river bed is 1/4 mile wide, so there were two or three areas that needed fording.

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About 1/2 mile south of the river, there is a Federal prison to the left of the trail.

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A tributary of the New River left a small puddle, just past the prison view.

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As I reached Bob Bently Trailhead, a rather nondescript gate with weathered signage, my 88 miles of Black Canyon trail were reduced to the return hike to Emery Henderson.  The sounds of nearby Ben Avery State Shooting Range (where my son was trained to properly handle firearms) were heard, over a formidable earthen berm.

Lest anyone get the idea that Bob Bently was the end of the line, though, the invitation to another extensive trail system appeared, to my right. Several segments of Maricopa Trail, (http://mctpf.org/the-trail/), a 315-mile loop, circling Maricopa County, will be in view, on these pages, over the next four years.  There seems no end to surprises coming my way.