March 5, 2016, Chula Vista-
I laid a diamond in a vault,
Some five years ago today.
A hatchling gem sprouted wings,
and found his own way.
Much happened to burnish
away the rough,
both for mother and for son.
I think of those who have not
seen their shine,
It’s for them that my tears run.
March 4, 2016, Prescott- Today marks the eve of two anniversaries of import in my life. On March 5, 2004, a child was born, in a country far from here. He became my sponsored child, in 2011. On the same date, also in 2011, my long-suffering and beloved wife cast her burden, and became my spirit guide. One is now 12 years of age, the other, a spirit gone beyond time.
As I write this, there is a stirring, outside. A door opens and shuts- most likely my ephemeral neighbour, poking about, catching the night air. On the morning that Penny went to the realm of stars, son and I were detoured by a street renovation project. We got to hospice about three minutes after she had passed over. We did see, however, a stirring of leaves and debris, spiraling upward, on an otherwise still morning. We went inside, and found her body, still warm to the touch, but sans pulse. She had indeed left, three minutes earlier.
When one is at the threshold of something entirely new, there is an individualized level of trepidation. There is also an individualized level of hope and joy. I generally face the day with more of the latter. March 5, 2011 was an exception, because my beloved’s spiritual energy, dense energy, filled the room, as I awoke. Nothing before or since has made its presence known, in quite that extraordinary a manner. I knew what was in store, and moved along through the day, in a very heavy flow.
She will be with me, always. I fully intend to visit my sponsored child and his family, in the summer of 2017. If all goes well, I will also pay a visit to one of our friends, in a nation that faces the challenges of climate change. I know Penny would approve, as she sent me messages about my earlier journeys, well in advance of their having transpired.
Standing at a threshold, my soulmate wraps me in confidence and blessings.
March 2, 2016, Prescott- I drove two friends, mother and daughter, to the airport, early this morning. They left cool Prescott for mild Phoenix, then headed for frigid Milwaukee. The quest was simple- to see family, including a newborn child. Perhaps, with enough positive energy, they will bring milder temperatures to southeast Wisconsin. In any event, I wish my friends and their family a safe and pleasant time together.
This brings me to the fact that we are each, in one way or another, seeking our true family. I am fortunate, biologically, to have a large, nurturing family, whose matriarch is still very much alive and well. I am also fortunate, spiritually, to have a larger, more nurturing family, spanning the globe. Besides making my tendency to wander actually bear some meaning, when I do go further afield than my Southwest home base, my greater family helps me build a solid foundation, for those times when I am rooted here. To be sure, I don’t stay put nearly enough to suit many of the people here, but I put that time to good use.
That is what being part of a family structure does- it orients, helps ground a person, and nurtures- always nurtures. What it must not do is stifle, suppress and cause stagnation. I wish, for my spiritual family, both here in Prescott, and across the planet, to ever seek the first path.
February 29, 2016, Prescott- This is one of those days when a person, who is actually 40, can pretend to be 10. Leap Day is a quirk of Earth time, but has become quite fun to observe. Some traditions allow women to ask men to dance, to go on a date- even, to marry, on “Sadie Hawkins Day”- something that derived from the country lore of the Appalachian region. I think that would be enjoyable enough, as it’s taken in a gentlemanly manner.
I waded through a fair amount of criticism, once I cam home from work today, and turned on the computer. Many people seemed in a nasty mood, for one reason or another. I did feel rightfully chastened, in one instance, and said so. In other cases, I felt the frustration of the complainant and in others, I sensed obfuscation in the wind, and called the person out on it. She gingerly walked her complaint back, and “agreed to disagree.” That’s fair enough.
There will be some tough choices ahead, for many people, and for our nation as a whole. I won’t get into the politics of it, but most of you will get my drift. Those of us who have a personal credo will sense that we need to act, based on the precepts of what we say we believe. I certainly have been, and will be, in that frame of mind.
We Baha’is begin our Nineteen-Day Fast, tomorrow at sunrise. For all of us who are in good health, not undergoing physical stress (including pregnancy, Aunt Flo and nursing, as well as doing heavy labour), and between the ages of 15-69, the abstinence from food and drink goes from sunrise to sunset. As with other spiritual fasts, ours is intended to purify the body and cleanse the soul. What that means to an individual is strictly a personal experience, and personal business.
I know those areas on which I need to work, so I hope this season will set the tone, in that regard. Stay tuned, and Marvelous March!
February 28, 2016, Rimrock, AZ- I spent yesterday, it seemed, with fork or spoon in my hand, from 2-6 P.M. There were three gatherings: The first, a lovely afternoon tea, was the big meal of the day, it turned out. Then, there was a small gathering at a local bakery (I had a cup of soup),followed by an appearance at a chili cook-off. The last one only had smatterings left, so the meal ended up being, thankfully, paltry- though, being chili, it was full-on tasty.
So, today, I headed off to visit some long-time friends near Montzeuma Well, a beautiful and refreshing extension of Montezuma Castle National Monument, on the northeast end of the town of Rimrock. Further northeast, still, lies Bell Trail, which sometimes parallels the Verde River tributary of Beaver Creek, and sometimes follows a path down to the creek.
So, after a light lunch, and visiting with the family as a group, while they put together a rabbit hutch, for Hako,
Hako
I headed out, with one of the family members, to explore Bell Trail. The various stops,along the trail, gave much time for meditation, even as I listened to my friend’s stories of adventure, both home and in far off lands. I shared a few of my own, along the same lines.
Sandstone formations, off Bell Trail
Sandstone “fortress”, off Bell Trail.
The trail ended at “The Crack”, an overlook and creek access point that is popular with students from Northern Arizona University, as well as local youth. The whitewater of a currently deep Beaver Creek is visible above, at lower left. While we we there, about a dozen youth were there, and several more were en route, as we took the return trail. It was tempting to get in the water, with temperatures in the upper 70’s, though when we stuck our hands in the creek, it felt like the water was about 55. That didn’t stop some of the younger folks from jumping in, though!
The afternoon was another well-spent day on the trail. I also thoroughly enjoyed my hiking companion’s stories of time spent in China, Tibet, and the Navajo Nation. Many of the latter experiences I shared, having been among the Navajo and Hopi, for 11 years.
February 26, 2016, Prescott- Today is the first of four Intercalary Days, celebrated by members of the Baha’i Faith, as days of charity, gift-giving and fellowship. The proper name for this short period is Ayyam-i-Ha, or “Days of Giving”. It is followed by a Fast, of nineteen days, on which I’ve written before, and will again. Our Fast has some similarities to Lent, Ramadan and the Jewish High Holy Days, as well as its own unique character.
Intercalary means “in-between calendar months”. Our Baha’i calendar, properly called the Badi Calendar, has nineteen months of nineteen days each. In the past, we would have four days of intercalary in 365- day years and five days, in a Leap Year. The calendar has now been synchronized, world-wide, so that our Holy Days will be based on the occurrence of the new moon, and thus will fall on different dates each year. The Intercalary Period, therefore, will be four days a year, regardless of a year’s actual length.
Personally, this month and next, are rather lean, so my charity and gift-giving come more in the form of time and energy, this year. I’d rather have it that way, actually, as we humans sometimes value each other more on what things people bring and how much money they give. I’ve lost a few friends, over the years, because I didn’t contribute, financially, to their efforts or causes. Then again, were they really friends, in the first place?
Today, I will shortly set out and see what is happening downtown, and visit one of my favourite journaling haunts- either the Courthouse lawn, or one of the coffee houses that so wonderfully grace our central area. This evening features two gatherings, and tomorrow- three. I have, on such occasions, developed the art of selective grazing- each of these affairs is centered around food- and refined my conversational skills, which, for much of my life, have been halting, at best.
It’ll be a fine weekend, at any rate, and will have its share of acts of service.
35. con-artist, puberty, spider venom, Cheetos.
February 25, 2016, Prescott- I didn’t work today, but I did receive my renewed Fingerprint Clearance Card- good until 2022. Getting it to the three district offices was the order of the afternoon.
A bit of verse, in celebration.
Lydia finds that Red Hot Cheetos are a cheerful mid-morning snack.
Since she underwent puberty, and has since carried around a full egg sac.
Standing on four of her eight legs, she tries to crawl up the denim.
The shrieks are deafening, from the girls, afraid of spider venom.
Lydia, you see, is a tarantula, and quite the con-artist.
She only need appear, and send the humans scattering.
Munching on a Cheeto or two,
Not what I’d call working her hardest.
The web can wait, until the bugs and flies stop chattering.
February 24, 2016, Prescott- In “To Kill A Mockingbird”, Scout reminds one of the racist men that he, too, is a father. The man then walks away from a hateful mob. I was reminded of that scene, this evening, when a “racially-mixed” couple made a presentation, on their experience living here in this largely Libertarian city. It seems that, not so many years ago, a noose was tied and left hanging, from a tree branch in their front yard. While many treat them well, there are those I have historically viewed as misfits, trying to make those they view as square pegs, fit into round holes of their imaginations.
We each set a noose to a tree, at some point in our lives. Usually, it’s the noose of blame- intended for someone else, as a way of evading responsibility. Sometimes, it’s the noose of “Us vs. Them”. Other times, the “wagons in a circle” noose hangs, from the branch of imbalance. We certainly see lots of these, of late.
The worst nooses of all, though, are those we set for ourselves. The noose of anger, or that of addiction, lead us to swing from some unsightly branches. The noose of self-pity, now, there’s one I have to work especially hard to keep off my neck, at times.
I am getting better at facing such traps, and cutting them down, before finding myself looking at a victim- or being one. It’s been nearly 24 years since we heard, from a flawed, but cogent, voice: “Can’t we all just get along?”
February 23, 2016, Prescott-
Northern lights, prehensile, love in all its forms, dish soap
I have often struggled, over the years, to understand the motives and behaviour of my contemporaries and certain of my elders. Children and teens, especially since I have “grown up” are easier to “grasp”, in terms of what makes them tick.
I have done better in understanding people of all ages, over the past five or six years, having seen, firsthand, how stress and anxiety can lead good people to hurt others. God knows, I have dished out a few hurts, myself, and also because of stress.
Lubricants, of various kinds, from dish soap to sweet nothings, can ease much pain and lend to the solution of all kinds of problems. Their partner in so doing is love, in all its forms. I have written about love, of course, most recently on Valentine’s Day. The expected earful, about love being far more than mere romance, was not long in coming. To me, the fact is that love is the basis for the existence of the Universe.
The Creator’s Love for His creatures is evident in everything that is good, and in all the challenges that beset us, as well. Some have faced sufficient challenges in this life, as to want to throw things at me, for having said this. It remains, however, that challenges and problems are frequently the vehicles to illumination and understanding. A physical example lies in the solar storms and flares that,,apparent.
I will write further about those realizations that have come to me, through trial, especially over the past twenty six years. It is my goal to give rest to the adage, “There’s no fool like an old fool.”
February 21, 2016, Prescott-
24. tower, kettle, hawk, charm, cotton
This little verse is about a tower, and the fields below.
A group of slaves found themselves set free,
The tower once home to their masters,
Became theirs to oversee.
The crop they grew was cotton,
Their fields were often sodden.
The moisture also led to evil,
in the form of dreadful weevils.
Now, the ex-captives were not simple-minded,
nor to solutions were they blinded.
On a cool spring morning,
they met and talked.
Of a sudden,
they heard a squawk.
The tower’s roof
was now home to a hawk.
“How do we get our bird friend
to like weevils?”, one mused.
“Let us spread some kettle corn!”,
another newly freed man enthused.
“This will draw some swamp rats in,
the hawk will swoop down and feast on the vermin.
Once the rats have been decimated,
the raptor will seek another way to be sated.
He will spot the busy weevils,
make several meals of them,
and the cotton, reap, we will!”
So it went, that the men worked hard,
their own well-being, to safeguard.
They managed to charm some ladies from town,
and families soon sprang up.
The team was no longer trodden down.
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