The Road to Diamond, Day 141: Good Friday

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April 18, 2025- The day was marked here by rain, throughout the day, and snow in the early evening. As I sat with friends at American Legion Post 6, enjoying a fish fry, the snow continued to fall, adding a rather surreal touch to what is, for many, a solemn day.

When I was a child, in a Roman Catholic home, the day marking the Crucifixion and Death of Jesus the Christ was the saddest day of the year. I didn’t feel like there was any reason for mirth or celebration, of anything, on Good Friday. As a teenager and young adult, I would invariably turn down invitations to join my friends, in whatever routine Friday night celebration they had planned. Even Catholic friends viewed my stance as sanctimonious, but I felt it deep in my heart.

As a Baha’i, I still view the Sufferings and Death of Christ as a tragic rejection by humanity, of His Message of peace and spiritual reconciliation. The day was spent in service, albeit in the covering of a Band class at a local intermediate school. Despite the odd weather and the approach of Easter weekend, students maintained a certain focus and kept on with their tasks. It did help, though, that it was a shorter day.

In the scheme of things, I continue to wonder: “How might our world be different, if the powers of the day had heeded Christ’s Message, and followed Him, at the time of His pronouncements?”

The Road to Diamond, Day 15: Hats and Antlers

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December 13, 2024- It was Acker Night, tonight, in downtown Prescott. This is an annual fund drive for Music Education, supporting programs in everything from dance to choral singing and a jazz quartet. The second Friday in December is thus an especially heartwarming night, the chill air aside.

I walked around downtown, stopping first at American Legion Post 6, to listen to a few songs by a couple of Post members and starting my “rounds” of contributions to the fund. After being admonished that “downtown is a long way”(It is a half mile from the Post to Courthouse Square), I walked down the hill. As long as I still can manage, walking is a joy. I feel for those who no longer can, though.

In a small alcove, at Lifeways Book Store, a bilingual singer offered several tunes with a Southwest flavour. In his rendition of Ray Charles’ “Seven Spanish Angels”, he sang both the English and Spanish lyrics. The singer told of his having studied the songs in his repertoire, and having “corrected” Mr. Charles’s Spanish translation-to make it flow better. Since he lived and worked for a time in Veracruz, I figured he knew what he was doing.

I walked the south side of the Square for a bit, listening to a choral group doing Christmas carols, then walking around to the north side, where a dance ensemble was doing a “Rockette-style line dance, to Kay Starr’s “The Man With The Bag”. A couple of beginner dance groups followed with “Silent Night” and “White Christmas”.

Finally, it was off to Raven Cafe and a bowl of cream of mushroom soup, which soothed whatever remnants I had of Wednesday night’s stomach flu. The featured artist for the evening, Kendra Vonderheide, gave a solid hour of mostly original tunes, saying that these were her way of releasing pent-up energy, after a three-hour drive from her hometown of Bisbee. Kendra complimented those who wore Santa hats and reindeer antlers. Arizona’s “Christmas City” would offer no less. It was another fabulous step forward for music education in our area.

Here is Ray Charles, with Willie Nelson, performing “Seven Spanish Angels”.

“You Are Your Choices”

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December 1, 2023- So said a line on the bottom of a rear license plate, offered by the driver of a truck in front of me, as I drove back from Planet Fitness, this afternoon. The situation at the club was a bit chaotic, with two older mother-daughter pairs, and a nervous lady of about the same age, all converging on the massage bed/lounges at about the same time-but without telling the front desk person what they wanted. He ended up having to go back and manually reset the devices. I had signed up for a massage lounge, and was waiting for the gentleman who was on it, to finish his time. The ladies looked like they had been waiting, so they got on first, then the whole manual reset thing was needed.

I chose to use a massage chair, if for no other reason than to save the poor kid’s sanity. We are the results of our choices. I have written on this subject before, and have at least gotten pretty good at living with my choices, by first making them more carefully, then by actually running them by those who might just be affected by them, rather than running over them. The last step is not gloating over them, lest someone else’s heart be hurt. It is best to include an acknowledgment that not everyone has a good experience with certain situations, or areas of life. That’s not patronizing, it’s honouring the one who has faced a different set of outcomes.

It’s a good place to note some choices I’ve made for December. This evening, I chose to attend a dinner that honoured those of us who volunteer for the Homeless Assistance Program, at a local church, rather than attend the annual Christmas Dinner at Post 6. Tomorrow, instead of hanging out downtown, during the Christmas Parade, I am choosing to help break down the Farmers Market, then go up to Chino Valley, for a Slow Food planning session. Tomorrow evening, I will choose to visit a friend I’ve not seen in a while, over watching the Christmas Lighting, for the eighth time. On ten different weekdays, between now and Christmas Break, I am choosing to fill substitute positions. You get the drift. There are days of service and days of self-care; days of honouring friends and days of making now traditional visits to places like Santa Fe and Tucson.

Choices fill our lives, from when one gets up in the morning, to how one fills a day, to how often a friend is contacted, and by what means. Hopefully, as I mentioned above, choices will be made that hurt no one, or are at least made in a way that if a person is hurt, it’s because of how the choice made is taken by that person. We can’t control other people’s experiences, but we can control ourselves.

Most choices are almost automatic, after a while, but they should always have an element of presence, in being made.

Beeswax Pull and The Flower Moon

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November 19, 2023- The beeswax cone did what it was supposed to do, gently cleanse my ears, with a pulling effect. It pretty much confirmed today’s gentler tone-compared to yesterday’s angry intensity. I had more small tasks to do-checking in on senior friends at Post 6 (most are well), attending a Baha’i study session (respectful, but thorough, examination of a letter from the Universal House of Justice), picking up the Farmers Market order that I missed yesterday, this beeswax cleanse and a visit to a Holiday Market in Prescott Valley, to get gifts for Aram and Yunhee.

Now it’s almost time to go view “Killers of the Flower Moon”-an acclaimed depiction of modern day exploitation of resources on First Nations lands. I will have some comments on the film, in the next post. I will say, ahead of time, that the part of the human being that often is killed first is the spirit. Once that happens, it takes a generation or two to recover, if justice is truly exercised.

That brings me to this morning. Last night, I went to bed, questioning my place in this community. In the light of day, though, and after talking with a few friends, my message to those who don’t like my being here- some of whom may read this- is:

I have a place here. It is not defined by you, and no matter who you may try to turn against me, it will not end well. There are many who know my heart, which you do not. They know I have the best interests of children, teens and the disadvantaged always front and center. They know it has been this way, for 42 years. They know I am committed, I will respect your gentle friends, whom I met last night, and show them honour. I will do the same for you, even if you strike back in anger.

So, though you are popular, active in social justice causes and will be in the same spaces as I am, quite a bit- know that I am not going anywhere. We might as well get along; but if not, Prescott will remain my home-until I am needed elsewhere.

Shifting Tides

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May 7, 2023- My comments this morning were not glossed over, or dismissed, by the moderator. It seems that there is more of a rooted sense taking over the monthly discussion of Baha’u’llah’s early responses to a Sufi mystic, entitled “The Seven Valleys and The Four Valleys”. There was a good deal less intellectual posturing than in previous sessions. My anecdotes did not fall on deaf ears, in any event.

Another sign that sentiments are moving more towards the center, and away from extremes, was our conversation, earlier this morning, at the Post 6 Breakfast. A random plaint about transgender people demanding their rights was brushed aside by the rest of the group, who are now more concerned about firearms safety than they were even two weeks ago. The plague of random gun attacks, by the very people who see their world crumbling, has begun to stir a sense of outrage among those conservatives on whom the White Supremacists are depending for support. Overkill, some it literal murder, tends to do that.

We humans, no matter what our individual politics are, trend towards sociability. Even self-styled introverts need affirmation from other people. We cherish our right to self-expression, and we honour our responsibilities towards family, community and the greater entities we call state and nation. Some of us even can see to honour responsibilities towards the planet as a whole, much as we would bristle at any ad hoc authority coming in and calling himself the Sovereign of Planet Earth. We want a say in who runs our affairs, and rightfully so.

Along those lines, I read, with alacrity, a piece by Phoenix-based columnist Greg Moore, cautioning about the advances in Artificial Intelligence. My take, in a nutshell, is that the singularity feared by Mr. Moore, and others-including the founder of Google, will only come to pass if mankind gives AI too many passes. I don’t install all that many applications on either my phone or my laptop. I don’t access Siri or any other “office assistant”, primarily because it’s so much more satisfying to look for information on my own. Artificial intelligence is, by definition, man-made, human-bestowed, and, as a friend who follows the advances in the field wryly observed this morning, is incapable of expressing emotion, having deep feelings, without a human being programming it so. Feelings are what impart strength and meaning to a decision.

The tides are shifting, in a good many areas, towards the expression of reason, combined with loving energy.

Fluidity

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May 6, 2023- There was hardly a thought in my head, yesterday, about Cinco de Mayo. All energy was on the dried pine needles-raking them up and bagging them, at least around the perimeter of Bellemont Baha’i School’s kitchen and the old Green Cabin, which is a central gathering place for study, during the sessions that are held in June and July. Others will take up the task of raking and bagging, today, around the rest of the property-and we will be in Firewise mode.

My schedule, over the next 2.5 months, is in a fluid state right now. This morning was taken up with manning a booth at another Firewise event, this one in the village of Dewey, which is one half of the town of Dewey-Humboldt, northeast of Prescott Valley. Then, there was the breakdown of Prescott Farmer’s Market, a staple activity when I am in Home Base. This evening, a delightful duo played covers of hits from the 1960s to the 2010s-and nailed every one, at Rafter Eleven.

Checking my messages, I find that the schedule for the next 2.5 months is largely in a state of flux. Tomorrow will be a standard Sunday- Post 6 breakfast, Baha’i Zoom call and laundry getting done. Then, the carved-in-stone ends. Extended family will be here on Monday, and we will do whatever meets their interest. They will be off, exploring the southwest and southern California, thereafter-and aside from possibly joining them on Tuesday, my plans will find me elsewhere. The train to Los Angeles departs Flagstaff at 8:38 p.m., Wednesday night, and a northern California, Reno-Carson City, and Pacific Northwest journey of indeterminate length will be off and running.

The Bellemont camp manager duties, for which I cleared June and July, are in even more of a state of flux. The dates of each camp have shifted, three times, in the last two days. Discussions about cost, and the vagaries of weather, will affect the scheduling even further. I sense that the dust will settle soon, and there will be plenty to do down here, on days when I am not camp bound.

That brings me to thoughts of autumn. September will see another train trip, this time through the Midwest and Northeast, in time for Mom’s next milestone birthday. Back through the upper South and Texas will follow. Then, there is the still possible journey to Southeast Asia-dependent on a head’s up from the agency through which I sponsor a teenager in that part of the world. This, if it happens, will come in mid-October.

Fluidity is a given, in just about anyone’s life, and leads to more of joy and personal growth than anything else. Whatever transpires, I am sure it will be of interest to some. Stay tuned.

Many Jobs, Few Tasks

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April 22, 2023- Earth Day called me to get up on a workday schedule, so by 5:30, I was groomed and dressed. There were four stops and a Zoom call waiting, so after reading the newspaper and saying a few prayers, it was off to Courthouse Square. There was not a whole lot to do at Stop # 1, an environmental group’s booth, between 8:15, when I finally found the booth, and 8:50, when it was time to race back for the Zoom call.

It seemed imperative that I join the call, since I had been absent for two weeks, due to my Red Cross deployment. The moderator of the call has had a hard time with my absence-service to the wider community is apparently not his thing, if it conflicts with his Zoom work. As it happened, he was absent today, but his trusted assistant was glad I was on the call-and has no issue with someone being away due to working with the Red Cross.

After the call ended, I stopped in, briefly, at an American Legion Auxiliary rummage sale-picking up an extra pair of sunglasses(to replace the pair that was lost during my sheltering activity) and a cake to bring to my substituting assignment on Monday. Then, it was off to Farmers’ Market, getting a week’s supply of microgreens and catching up with friend Melissa.

Job #3 was back at the Firewise section of Courthouse Square’s Earth Day, and I got to the Red Cross booth four minutes late, which led to a mild chastisement from the woman tending the booth and groans from the man who had been there since 7 a.m. Water off this duck’s back! I give a lot of myself and no longer fret about people who are overly sensitive at slight lapses of punctuality.

After an hour, in which I greeted seven visitors and explained a bit about our mission, it was back to Farmers’ Market-this time to help a group of college students break down the tents, and put away the folding tables and chairs. With an increased efficiency, on the part of the new team lead, we were finished in less than an hour.

Job #5 was back at the Red Cross booth. This time, I was early, and the tent was folded up and put away a bit after 2 p.m.

There were big crowds at both Courthouse Square and Farmers’ Market, as people are finally comfortable with being at our community’s traditional events. Chalk-It-Up is back, after a three-year hiatus! More on that delightful artistic festival, in tomorrow’s post.

It was a fine day, and not as strenuous as it might have been, had there not been full teams at each location. Topping the day were two relaxing musical events: The Bourbon Knights performed ’60s Golden Oldies and some original tunes, at Rafter Eleven, while friend Stephy Leigh, accompanied by Jonah Howard, of Cross-Eyed Possum, performed two sets of her original music, with a few covers thrown in, at Raven Cafe.

Being back at Home Base has its rewards, great music being chief among them.

Nevertheless

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April 2, 2023- These thoughts come to me, as two weeks of night duty approach.

I don’t see much of my restaurant-worker friends, as the weight-reduction plan continues and my schedule takes this one afield. Nevertheless, I think fondly of all of them, and wish a steady flow of diners and income.

I haven’t gotten out to see local friends, as much as I might have. Nevertheless, I keep each of them in my heart.

It’ll be three weeks until I get back to my weekend routine in Prescott. Nevertheless, I summon the forces of assistance to the Farmers Market, to my beloved vendor and worker friends, and to the regular breakfast crowd at Post 6. May all be safe and well.

I have no idea what lies in store for the suffering masses, both across the United States and around our planet. Nevertheless, I sense that all will heal and goodness will flow, even from the darkest of times.

I have no clear picture of what lies in store for us in the Central Valley, even with improving weather. Nevertheless, our team will do everything possible to safeguard the victims of nature’s ravages, until it is time for them to safely move on.

The weeks and months ahead will be filled with both challenge and opportunities for growth. There will be a lot of work required and putting the needs of all manner of people on my radar screen. Nevertheless, I will maintain self care and keep my focus.

Approaching

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January 16, 2022- I had a satisfying breakfast at Zeke’s, yesterday. I always have a satisfying breakfast at Zeke’s, once a week, when I’m at Home Base. I had a satisfying breakfast at American Legion Post 6, this morning. I most often have a satisfying breakfast at Post 6, each Sunday morning, when I’m here.

I had civil and mutually informative conversations, both days, with people who think differently from me, on a good many topics. We learned from one another, because we are not engaged in World War Ten against each other.

Years ago, I recall telling a pacifist friend that I was going to VietNam, to see for myself, what was going on there. It was the last conversation I ever had with him. Whilst protesting our involvement there, he adopted an authoritarian mindset. No other point of view could thus be entertained-or even approached.

All these years later, we as a society are headed in the same direction. On one side, we see a clamour for restriction on those who seek a more inclusive society. On the other side, we see a clamour for restriction, on those who seek a more restrictive society. In the end, each will get a leadership which will restrict everyone not in agreement with its agenda- unless we, the people wake up, become awakened– not “woke”, which is a verb tense, not an adjective.

Psychologists speak of approach/avoidance- a dichotomy in dealing with those people who, and situations which, are at variance with our own mindsets. Some people, such as a conman or grifter, are best set straight and then avoided, henceforth. Some situations, such as a riot, are best not joined-and are a good bet to be avoided. Then, there are those occasions, when a true lover of the human race moves towards the crisis, approaches those suffering or in need-and gives of self-especially of one’s strengths and capabilities. These could be natural disasters, acts of terror or a vulnerable person in need of protection.

When I contemplate how to respond to such events and situations, in the days, months and years ahead, I only ask the Creator, the Higher Power, to grant continuing strength-to approach all with a clear sense of love, fairness and justice-but above all, with the strength of discernment, to not fall victim to any preconceived notions, arising from the person’s stated beliefs or political leanings.