The Road to 65, Mile 126: Fidelity

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April 3, 2015, Prescott-  In this evening’s episode of “Hawai’i Five-O”, the great Chi McBride took up the questions of both marital and fraternal fidelity.  His character, a captain on a Hawai’i State Police task force, finds himself facing the possibility that a close friend is being duplicitous, while re-affirming his own love for his wife.  The heartbreak he faces, in the first instance, makes him hauntingly vulnerable and very much in need of the second.

All my thirty years of closeness to Penny, and the years of unity with her spirit that have ensued, I have kept a fidelity, a loyalty of purpose.   I have female friends, now, whom I adore as people, and as helpers in many aspects of my life.  The time could yet come when I am in a friendship that turns romantic, but that’ll happen if it is meant to be.  My soulmate remains watchful, I know.

Today, millions of people around the world observe, commemorate and mourn the result of duplicity.  1, 982 years ago, money trumped loyalty to the Light of the World. At the same time, fear clouded the judgment of the man who would be the first Pope, and led to abandonment, however temporary.

The Paragon of Fidelity forgave His tormentors, His killers and His duplicitous friends.  Jesus the Christ set the example, to remain steadfast in the face of its opposite behaviour.  How many were the false ones who called “Lord, Lord”, in His wake, yet walked the dark path!  How many the devoted ones who gave their all for Him, Whom they loved completely!

Fidelity and duplicity are choices we each make, in matters great and small, and in all relationships, both secular and divine, both committed and casual.  Which shall be the goal, as this Good Friday draws to a close?

The Road to 65, Mile 125: Angels Among Us

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April 2, 2015, Prescott-  Yavapai County Angels is an ad hoc group, which was formed last November, to bring holiday cheer to disabled veterans and other shut-ins, in the Quad Cities (Prescott, Prescott Valley, Chino Valley, Dewey-Humboldt) and outlying areas of our county.  Thirty-nine households ended up receiving much-appreciated solace from the initial group.

This morning, with help of various sorts from 133 members, several members of YCA, including me, assembled Easter baskets for distribution to residents of a Veterans Housing facility, and several extras, to be given to homeless veterans outside that facility.  Puzzles and word search books were also brought to the Arizona Pioneer Home, a senior living facility here in town.

YCA is a grassroots group, not beholden to any creed or political agenda.  This makes it doubly attractive to me, as the mission statement, so to speak, is simply Love Thy Neighbour.  My own halo may have prongs on it, but it still feels good to have the means to make a small difference in the lives of the disadvantaged.  On this Maundy Thursday, what else is there?

The Road to 65, Mile 124: Stuff and Nonsense

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April 1, 2015, Prescott-  I spent the day with Second-Graders, enjoying the silliness of April Foolery, at the elementary level:  “Look, your shoes are untied”  So much innocence, and underlying trust that things are basically okay, fuel the basic sense of relaxed fun.

It doesn’t last, and more’s the pity.  I fielded a phone call from my landlord, who lives in another state.  He learned of my client’s lingering presence on our compound, and gently-for now- expects me to bring the situation to a close.  I gave my client two more days to move along.  My eviction is neither a joke, nor an option.

His reaction was predictable, and after finding him a motel room, in lieu of his sleeping under the stars, in a forest not far from here, I formulated a plan to keep his belongings safe, should he revert to a passive- aggressive abandonment of them.  That may well be how the situation “ends”.

That’s the thing about endings; they are usually hiatuses, breathers that are designed to give the tormented soul a chance to regroup his/her thinking, in light of a reality that is hard to comprehend.  Here’s the rub, with my client:  He was never really parented.  Raising oneself, even in the rather tame world of the 1950’s, leaves lots of gaps.  One only learns to consider others if one has a mother and/or father, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, who is modeling such relative selflessness.

So, I would find room in my storage closet outside, for the dozen or so boxes he has organized, and when he, or his adult children, show up to collect them, the stuff and nonsense that have played out over the past four months will have not caused any harm.

The Road to 65, Mile 123: Out Like A Jackalope

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March 31, 2015, Prescott-  I get a kick out of how so many groups and institutions put so much stock in the last day of a quarter year.  Ninety days is a fairly good stretch, by which to measure personal goals.   Group goals, though, being larger, are harder to quantify in such a short time.  Wall Street usually observes the end of a business quarter by indulging in huge sales of assets, as happened today.  Congress has sometimes marked the three-month point by……going on recess!  Schools don’t care so much, as their academic quarters don’t mesh with the business cycle.

The old saw about this month that is now ending is “In like a lion, out like a lamb.”  Here in Arizona, it seems March is ending like a jackalope- the legendary creature that is half rabbit, half pronghorn.  People are a bit skittish, and many aren’t paying attention to their surroundings.  The jackalope is confused as to which direction it should take, and so are many people I am encountering around here today.

I am pointing my client, whose belongings are taking up my entire patio, towards a storage unit- with tomorrow afternoon or Thursday P.M. as a goal for getting everything over there.  I am pointing myself towards a solid workday tomorrow (no joke) and a morning of service towards disabled veterans on Thursday.  Good Friday, though I don’t observe Christian liturgy, remains a solemn day, which honours the life of one of the Lights of the World.

It’s easy to get confused, this time of year.  Weather is, by turns, wintry, springlike or hot.  Snow may fall, even here, and be gone by 10 A.M.  Kids get test-burnout, as this is the time to perform on tests, to satisfy the politicians. The rest of us may focus on the secular aspects of Easter, which to me is one of the loveliest of Christian Holy Days, and concern ourselves more with blood-sugar levels, and artistry on an egg shell.  Then, there is the Full Moon, which greets us on the first day of Passover, also a lovely Holy Day.

Stay loose, as my Dad used to say, and be kind to one another on All Fools’ Day.  More about that, tomorrow of course.

The Road to 65, Mile 122: The Lifeboat Exercise

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March 30, 2015, Prescott-   My job today involved guiding five classes of Eighth Graders through choosing seven people, out of a possible twelve, to hole up in a bomb shelter, following a hypothetical nuclear holocaust.  This is the culmination of their study of the Cold War Era.

It is, as many will have guessed, a variation on the Lifeboat activity, which many of us have done, in Psychology 101 or as an icebreaker at a business convention.  One gets to play God, or at least presume to advise the Supreme Being.

The students took this responsibility very seriously, and with the re-population of Planet Earth in the balance, being young and highly intelligent worked to the hypothetical survivors’ advantage.   The lone hexagenarian was left out in the Nuclear Winter.  Then again, a nineteen-year-old, of average intelligence, was also culled from the sack.

Each of us does the lifeboat exercise on a regular basis.  We let some people get close to us, and others, try as they might, are kept at arm’s length.  It is human nature, though thankfully such selectivity does not result in harm or death on a regular basis.  Most people who are cut out of one situation find that, as that door closes, another opens.

When I was growing up, and throughout my twenties, I learned to stay flexible and to circulate widely, so as not to depend to excess on any one person or group.  Thus, my love of travel became more than just a means to joie de vivre.  It was a path to survival.  After nearly thirty years of marriage, I learned calmness and patience, in place.  In widowhood, life is more of a mix.  While I will not let myself be either cast out of the lifeboat or shackled within it, the safe haven is a fine place to have close by.

The Road to 65, Mile 121: Getting In Tune

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March 29, 2015, Jerome- After a difficult morning, largely due to my dealing with a few internal conflicts, I headed to this mountainside former mining town-turned-tourist mecca.  Jerome, as a whole, and my chosen lunch spot, Haunted Hamburger ( a bar and grill), are not the sorts of places one goes for emotional support.  Those who live here are a tough breed, so the affirmation I got from the wait staff was- “Yep, tough it out” .  I chose that route, anyway, so I found the meal enjoyable and left right after eating, as the place was way full of tourists- another reason the locals tend to be short, in the listening department.

Driving back up Mingus Mountain, I decided to explore the north peak of the mountain a bit.  A four-mile round trip hike along Woodchute Trail was what really restored my equilibrium.

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A restoration project, Powerline Meadow, is found at the beginning of the trail,just east of the road that makes up the first half-mile of the route.  Livestock and vehicular traffic are banned.

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About a half-mile further, I met a couple and their two children, with an eight-week-old puppy, who had walked with them to the nearby ridge, from which there are exquisite views of Sycamore Canyon, to the northeast.

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I wonder how much the little dog saw.  Nature seems to like togetherness, at any rate.

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I know what I always enjoy seeing, besides the greenery.

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I also find, when my chemical imbalance gets in my way, as it did once yesterday and a bit this morning, is taking a few drops of a soothing essential oil, and rub it on my neck or forehead.  The return to equilibrium is almost immediate.  It is a blend of frankincense, patchouli, Roman chamomile, sandalwood and lime oils.  I find that, the more severe the zoning-out or disconnect, the faster the blend works to bring me back to where I need to be.  I don’t mind sharing this here, as anyone else who is autistic, or someone who has OCD, panic attacks, or even mild schizophrenia, can benefit from applying this oil blend. As with our other products, there are no side effects and it does not counteract medication.

Now that day is done, I feel like, between “Haunted Hamburger’s” get-with-the-program tough love, my walk in the woods and the doses of this blend, I am ready for a busy and successful week.

The Road to 65, Mile 120: Waterplay

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March 28, 2015, Glendale, AZ-  I decided today was a day for relaxation, and there was a housewarming party in this western suburb of Phoenix, so southward, it was.

An online friend, from Xanga and Facebook, had invited me about a month ago.  The themes were the TV show,”Supernatural”, to which I have been drawn in the past, and relaxing in the (unheated) swimming pool.  There was a jacuzzi, which was heated, so I went in the cool pool, waist-deep and in the hot pool, up to my shoulders.  Four children, siblings, kept us watchful and engaged with their waterborne antics.SAM_4661

The hosts have been married since October, and look pretty solid a unit, to me.

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There were about thirty-five people, in a medium-sized apartment.  Those who didn’t go poolside, stayed in for some sort of card game.  I stayed poolside.

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The broad range of magic and science fiction was in evidence.  I’m used to these, as my son is a Dragon Child, and his circle of friends in high school was much immersed in both genres.

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All this, and the barbecue, made for a day in which I was quite exhilarated, and exhausted, at the end.  I was planning to attend an evening function, elsewhere in the Phoenix area, but in the prep for my drive, I left out dress socks.  Bbbbaaad!

The Road to 65, Mile 119: Sunshine In A Box

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March 27, 2015, Prescott-  I had a fascinating interview today, with the director of a Waldorf School.  He asked me to choose between committing to a full-time position, immediately and continuing to substitute, while filling in for a three-week period, during the month of May.

I chose the latter, mostly because I want to immerse myself in the Waldorf Method, which does look fascinating, to a holistic educator, before jumping into a shallow pool head first, as it were.  I have a lot to offer this school and others.  There will be several meetings between this gentleman and I, over breakfasts and lunches, as he wants to hear more about the Baha’i Faith and to exchange views on historical processes.  Yet, I want to be prepared, in terms of methodology.

My presentations in May will be on Mohammad, of Whom I have read a fair amount and on Jeanne d’Arc, whose historical sites in Rouen are proximate to those of my paternal lineage.  There are a wealth of interests and areas which I believe I can contribute, besides.

A woman at our evening devotional, in Chino Valley, remarked that both those we like and those we dislike will be attracted to the light we emit.  This explains a lot that has happened to me, especially recently.  One does not get to pick and choose who is encountered in this life; only what one does with the encounters.  I came very close, today, to severing my ties with the laundry I have been using for the past year, over the owner’s reaction to the hard line I am taking with my former client.  On reflection, though, he’s right:  No one can tell another person how, or where, to live.  We can only choose to support the decision, or to cut the individual loose.  Regardless, one’s sunshine, or one’s venom, cannot be contained in a box, in perpetuity.

Now that those two rather variant topics are off my chest, I will rest well tonight.

The Road to 65, Mile 118: Consistency

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March 26, 2015, Prescott-  My client walked out of his shelter, this evening, because he dislikes the rules.  He may want to revert to leaning on me for support.  This time, though, he has made a stark choice.  It’s no longer freezing at night, so guilt is not a tool to be used.  This time, from my perspective, he will be moving on.

Life is full of choices, and my choices are to maintain my independence, focus on the needs of my biological family, and on the legitimate needs of those who are actually suffering.  There is an organization in town, called “Angels of Prescott”.  They, and the Red Cross, will get the bulk of my time and energy, outside of work.  The kids will get my full attention, otherwise.

It is necessary, in life, to be consistent.  There are just too many vagaries and changes in the world around us, for a person to bounce from one goal or set of behavior to another, and still expect a successful outcome, or a sympathetic human climate.  Steadiness of purpose and unconditional love are not mutually exclusive, though, and in fact. real caring, empathy for others depends on a person being reliable in behavior, and in response to challenges.

Those who expect others to tend their rose gardens, without fail, are doomed to not smell the sweetness.

The Road to 65, Mile 117: Group Therapy

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March 25, 2015, Chino Valley- Last night, a family of three lost their trailer home, in an unincorporated town, about eight miles north of here.   The oldest child attends the school, where I am working for three days this week. He, his mother and toddler sister lost everything they owned, except the clothes that were on their backs, at the time of the blaze.  They lost their pets.  That home was in an area which lies outside any fire district, meaning that residents have to pay for fire fighting service.  The family had not paid for the service, so the home was a lost cause.  Of course, mobile homes are not likely to last long, in a fire, anyway.  A crew would have to arrive within three minutes of a blaze starting, in order for it to have any chance of success in extinguishing the blaze.

I watched again this evening, as reports of deadly tornadoes came out of Oklahoma:  Oklahoma City and Moore, again, and Tulsa, its suburbs of Sand Springs and Okmulgee, also in the wind’s cross-hairs.  This is March, so God, alone, knows how this tornado season, April to June, will play out in full.  Everything seems on hyperdrive, weatherwise, this year, though, so perhaps the season will spend itself early, as well.

A pilot on a crowded commercial flight in western Europe was locked out of his own cockpit, and the plane crashed, killing all on board.  The cause is left to the realm of speculation- always a sauce for further mayhem and disaster.

Terror, both natural and man-made, abounds, at any given time.  Heartbreak, both local and international, is rife, most days.  The only solution, as I see it, is unity of response and of relief.  Some of us can offer money.  Others, like me, can offer only time and energy. My point is solely that each of us can contribute to a group effort, at some level.  Only by working together, consistently, can we foster healing.  This has not come easily to me, over time, having been a loner until the age of 30, and more or less a steadfast, but somewhat quiet, spouse, until age 60.  Penny got me out of my shell, and circumstances since she left this life have kept me out of it.

My only question:  Where on the involvement spectrum are you?