October 1, 2025, Vienna- Up early enough, I got to Oscwiecim’s small train station and caught the train back to Krakow, only to boomerang right back past the station, as we made our way down to Vienna. I had a seat, clear to the Austrian capital, going through southern Poland and the Czech Republic. It was a long ride, though, as you can imagine, and I was ready for the mattress by the time we crossed the Danube and got into town. Somehow, I read, and re-read, the message from my lodging, and saw one too many codes for that hour of night. It also indicated that it was past time for check-in (“Office closes at 8 p.m.”, and it was 10:15.)
These things happen a lot, and yes, the train was delayed for about forty minutes. Still, I was frustrated at not getting to the Baha’i National Centre in Vienna, this evening, and at what seemed to be one too many Internet-centric snags, in connecting with the lodging. Besides, they didn’t answer their phone, which is supposedly on 24/7. End of rant.
I got a briefing on Vienna’s excellent public transportation system and found my way to Radisson Red Vienna. I am usually not partial to high-end hotels, but I was exhausted and besides, this was Vienna. So, the welcoming desk clerks got a guest with no reservation, and I got a very refreshing place at which to not have to enter codes.
A gowned angel watched over me, at Radisson Red, Vienna
May 3, 2025, Phoenix- The comforter on the bed I am borrowing for the evening is Superhero-themed. I am now safe from anything that could threaten the well-being of a six-year-old boy. Since he’s away, this seventy-four-year-old, overgrown kid can expect the same. Monsters and villains, be gone!
Heroes, in real life, come in many shapes, sizes and guises. The people who seem to stand in our way, and keep us from what what we think we might want, will sometimes turn out to be our best friends-and unlikely heroes in our lives. Remember the tale of Majnoon, searching for his beloved Layli (Layla, of the Eric Clapton song). His path was blocked by one or another watchman, until he vaulted himself over a wall-and found her looking fr a ring she had lost.
Heroes can be full of bravado, or they can be ordinary people (as in the Dave Grohl song). They can be constantly in action, in the limelight or just be around-for one day (as in the David Bowie song). Yes, we have been celebrating our deliverers and saviors from time immemorial. From the Epic of Gilgamesh, to the Iliad and Odyssey, the Tales of Hiawatha, Icelandic sagas and stories of the Samurai, all the way to the Marvel and DC characters, we derive much comfort in the idea that someone has our backs.
It is best, though, that we are our own, and one another’s champions. Acting in the interests of each person in our world-starting with ourselves, but not stopping there, can be challenging. The alternative, though, is to let someone else determine the entirety of our existence. That may seem easier, but recall the fates of those who acquiesced to tyrants, throughout history. Were they happier, in the fullness of time? Were their needs met?
Today, in conference with many of my fellow Baha’is, at the Center where Penny and I spent many happy hours, in the often troubled 2000s, I was reminded that “heroism” is hard work and that it is often not intentional, but the result of just putting oneself out there, on behalf of humanity-and of all creation. It most often involves teamwork, and always involves discernment and fortitude.
After our long day of consultation, my host and I joined several old friends, and many youth, in honouring a hard-working college graduate. It was a joy to see people I haven’t seen in fifteen years and to witness how several of them have grown from childhood and become successful adults, in various fields.
April 25, 2025- The wind was a bit brisk this morning, as a group of us prepared a fund-raising pavilion, on behalf of Prescott’s school district. Zip ties and clips became the saving graces, keeping the necessary signage in place. A few road barriers blew down and were promptly put back up. Keeping vehicles out of the area is important, both for the many pavilions and for the safety of those whose annual event is the impetus for this fund-raiser. Hundreds of mountain bike riders have converged on Prescott, for the annual Whiskey Off-Road bicycle marathon.
I had several small tasks to do, before going to the pavilion site, to help set up the tables and secure the tents. I learned, a few years back, to just go and do errands, rather than overthink and end up making a mess of things. Self-confidence came hard in my life, but it’s here now, and is not going away. The reward to self was another delicious French omelet at Bear and Dragon.
I got confirmations on two service posts, this week: Again serving as Corresponding Secretary for the Spiritual Assembly of the Baha’is of Prescott. After a meeting this morning, I was also asked to serve as Sheltering Coordinator for the Northern Arizona Chapter of the Red Cross. Much of my hands on work, for both positions, will be done during the summer months. Many other aspects of the duties may be done remotely. The Red Cross Disaster Response Coordinator for the Chapter further said that there is no reason to cancel any travels, next month or later in the year. I will continue to be faithful in making an effort to connect with people here, via Zoom or Microsoft Teams, or by phone, when the need arises.
There have been little hiccups, the past few days, but taking things slowly and carefully correcting matters have kept the missteps from having much effect. Life this week has been full of silken affirmations.
December 10, 2024- The repast was astonishing, bringing back memories of banquets in Taiwan, and of the full East Asian buffets that gave us comfort, in the hard times of the 2000s. The seven of us who gathered this afternoon are, to varying degrees, of progressive mind. There are, therefore, differing feelings among us, as to what awaits in the next four years. I see much good in the ethics of inclusion and sharing that my dining companions espouse. The rub, though, is in the shallowness of their politics.
It is my firm conviction that there is common ground among all people, and that it is worth the effort to bring that common ground to the fore. It is a mistake to give up and retreat, in the belief that there is an “other side”, with which it is impossible to reason. It is a mistake to assume that there is nothing to talk about, with that “other side”. I only see a continuum, with no barriers save the ones we choose to erect, either out of fear or exasperation. Those who are afraid, need backup and reassurance. Those who are exasperated should rest and gather their thoughts and feelings.
I thought of this again tonight, as we Baha’is gathered for a Spiritual Feast. We are all of differing backgrounds, mindsets and places on the political spectrum, yet there can be no animosity, where there is true unity of commitment to the Oneness of Mankind. It’s hard work, and it may take our species a thousand years to accomplish. The legwork, though, is going on now, and cannot be kicked down the road.
Like-minded people are always gathering, and will eventually bring in other like-minded people. No one needs to be left out.
November 24, 2024- This evening, we Baha’is celebrated the life of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, as the day which He allowed as a day to honour the Covenant, or agreement, between Baha’u’llah and His followers, and by extension His life as the Center of that Covenant. He did not want an excess of attention on His life and accomplishments, other than what He was able to show us, as an example of how to live.
I splurged a bit on the refreshments for this event, always anticipating a crowd. When a smaller group shows, and there is a lot left over, there are plenty of avenues for sharing the excess, so in the end, it is money well spent. Coffee Klatsch and the Soup Kitchen are tomorrow, and most of the food left over will be shared at those events. The rest goes in the freezer, while I am in Texas for Thanksgiving and my birthday.
There are some things on which it never hurts to splurge. Refreshments for special events are often in that category. Help for the poor, as a friend in the Bicol region of the Philippines is offering now, in the wake of the Quad Typhoons, is another such path. Love for one’s children, which my friend, K, showers in spades, is up there. Love for people in general, and a certain person in particular, is at the top of the list.
Like the water in a tsunami, that which you give comes flooding back, though not in a damaging way.
October 29, 2024- I “worked” today, basically being a warm certified body, covering for a friend who needed to be in another room at her school, so as to focus on Individual Education Plans (IEPs), which I well remember are the bane of a Special Needs teacher’s existence. (Penny was a long-time SPED teacher.) My biggest challenge was to keep myself occupied, as the long-time and well-regarded Paraprofessional tended to all the instructional activities. I re-read just about all of H.G. Wells’ “The Time Machine”, (one of my favourite novels, in my teenage years) and took a couple of surveys, regarding my daily routine as a High Functioning Autistic person. Seems I have few of the issues that I once had, especially in connecting with other people and in staying on task.
I also have reflected on my recent journey to the Philippines. A few times, I felt that things were a bit too rushed, especially the last day. K, though, was more concerned about my getting to the airport on time-and on most occasions, it’s well-advised to allow four hours, prior to an international flight. So, my beloved was acting out of love, as she has for the past year. I am in love with a complete human being, not with an idea, as I explained to someone who had said “Maybe you’d be better off with _____________, than with K.” No, I wouldn’t, necessarily. Kathy communicates in subtleties and in statements of loving concern. I am more effusive with my terms of endearment. Her love is expressed in her eyes and smile.
I have mentioned that, when traffic signals change, the pedestrian signals, both red and green, are timed. Filipinos, both on motorcycles and in automobiles/trucks, are careful to NOT hit pedestrians. There is a subtle communication between driver and walker, in most cases. When I am crossing the street with Kathy, though, I am between her and the vehicles, and my outside hand goes up. No one will hurt my beloved. Otherwise, I rely on that subtle communication.
When in a community, I participate in events that are dear to my friends. Thus, I was at the funeral of a woman I never met. She was one of Kathy’s Baha’i mentors, which alone made it important for me to be present. She was also a major contributor to the well-being of the Philippine Baha’i community. Thus, I had lunch with the renovation crew at the Manila Baha’i Center, every day that I was in the neighbourhood. Mom taught us that no one was either above or below us, in terms of occupation or social status. I have lived this, for seventy-three years.
Attention to subtleties is also good for the mindfulness that helps to avoid dementia. That, and a diet based on fresh and unadulterated foods and beverages, has kept me pretty sharp, at least for the past forty years. There is no accounting for how I was as a child or teenager, not to mention as a young adult.
I am just about done with the jet lag that seemed to be more intense, this time around. Still, I haven’t missed any subtle hints.
October 27, 2024, Seattle- “In 30 minutes, we should have a resolution to this technical problem.” So said the captain of the jumbo jet that was taking us to T’aipei, from Manila. Four hours later, we took off and had a smooth flight.
The day was pretty much like that, all along. I had a warm send-off from Ola! Hostel, the staff saying they hoped to see me again, next time. I joined a group at the Baha’i Center a bit later than they had wanted me to be there. The laundry service’s schedule and process kept me waiting and then, I had to pack. This was lost on a few of the Baha’i friends, and the last session there seemed a bit cold. They did help me get a ride to the airport, and the driver showed up minutes later. I had no time to really tell a certain person verbally, how deeply I feel about her. It was all rush-rush.
The ride to the airport was smooth. Once there, I waited at the EVA Air section, the line moving fairly swiftly and no problems exiting through immigration or security check. We were checked in and seated on the plane, with minimal difficulty. Then, the wait started and went on and on.
Fortunately, once at T’aipei, the authorities had held our Seattle-bound plane for the same length of time that it took EVA to resolve the technical issues on our plane in Manila. The Taiwanese processed us with lightning speed and we were seated on the second plane, which took off in short order.
I slept for about four hours, on board the aircraft crossing the Pacific Ocean, otherwise watching a forgettable Hong Kong police drama and a heartwarming film about a minister and his wife, who adopted several children, and encouraged members of his congregation to follow suit.
By 8:30 p.m., we were on the ground here. By 9:30, I had passed through immigration and customs. Now, at 10:15, I am in my room at Days Inn, ready for a few more hours of sleep, before my phone alarm goes off, at 3:30 a.m,, and I catch the motel shuttle back to SeaTac.
Another chapter in the Seeker Saga is drawing to a close.
October 17, 2024, Manila- As I consider the whys and wherefores of a move to the Philippines, vs. staying put in the U.S., I sometimes get asked whether my friend is a surrogate for my late wife. This is a rather boorish question, but the people posing it are doing so in good faith-even if their reasoning is off.
Penny was Penny. I will love her forever, and that love will never be transferred to another person. Kathy is Kathy. I will love her forever, and that love is not derived from the feelings I had towards my late wife. The two women share a heritage-both were (are) German, by matrilineal descent. Both are fervent Baha’is- one in the spiritual realm; the other still serving our Lord in this realm, on a daily basis. Both exhibit high intelligence and curiosity. Both were(are) physically comely. Therein, the similarities run out. Penny was tall, musically-inclined and had a peppery personality. Kathy is short, a financial whiz and even-tempered. Neither could possibly be a surrogate for the other.
Penny was fond of saying: “An apple is an apple; it’s NOT an orange”, in response to anyone’s lame attempt at false equivalence. I do not place one love above the other. In the next life, I anticipate that we will all be part of a greater team of spirits, serving God in whatever way He deems fit. (There is, in Baha’i Teachings, no provision for free will, in the spirit realm.)
Thereby, I hold that my attraction to both women was (is) primarily due to their spirituality, which in turn, infuses each of their personalities-and contributes to their outward radiance. This is all I can say on the matter. Love is love.
September 27, 2024, Puerto Princesa- The dog was sniffing my shoes, as a I left them outside the door to the large, comfortable villa, where our evening meal and impromptu conversation of two hours was to unfold. There are no puppies here at Dang Maria, (named for the mother of the owner), so I thought nothing of leaving them in the customary spot.
We had several lengthy and intelligent conversations today. Sister-friend Jane looms large in this seaside community, and has done nothing but good for the Puertenyos, and all Palawenyos. Her vision, like mine, is global and inclusive. I am proud to see her as a spiritual sibling.
My actual hosts here in Puerto Princesa are a furniture maker, Roger, and his wife Amie (AA mee). Roger sets the meetings and, in the tropical tradition, the times. It is vacation mode, even with my keeping view of my goals here-to encourage the Baha’is, as we continue to re-group, in the lingering aftermath of pandemic. I walk more slowly, along Manalo Street, to and from my host’s residence and my digs at Rodolfo Royale Hotel-and anywhere else we may be walking.
Our first leisurely stop was at Palawan Mall, where I refueled my wallet. We then headed over to Jane’s Restaurant, Neva’s Place, named for one of her three daughters.
Neva’s Place, Puerto Princesa, Palawan (above and below)
After a meal of garlic shrimp and noodles, with coffee as a dessert item rather than as “fuel”, we bid Jane adieu and headed back to our respective spots on Manalo Street, for siesta in the sitio (neighbourhood). It is still an institution here on Palawan-for those who don’t have a series of meetings to attend.
Our evening gathering, at Dang Maria, started “promptly at 5 p.m.”, which is Taglish for “be here around 6…or so”. We got there at 6:15. The gloaming had set in, but in the house, everything had a quiet vibrancy, and we addressed woes, both near and far. One thing we all hold in common- our Faith is not meant to have us hold our heads in the clouds. Spirituality, if real, must envelop, absorb and sanctify the material and the practical. Matters, great and small, put in front of us, are worthy of our attention. “Be anxiously concerned with the needs of the age ye live in, and centre your deliberations on its exigencies and requirements.-Baha’u’llah, “The Tabernacle of Unity”
Evening, at Casa Maria, Puerto PrincesaAmie, Roger and JaneThis is the one where I look like my maternal grandfather. (Time is flying!)
It was time to leave, being close to 9 p.m., so I went outside, to put on my shoes-except that there was only one. We looked high and low-but in the darkness, there was only one thing to do. I was graciously offered a pair of sandals, and the remaining shoe was placed out of harm’s way.
June 28, 2024, Bedford,MA- The little boy was only four, but still got in front of someone he thought was bothering his mother, and stood with fists clenched-size differential between him and the perceived threat be darned. His mom moved him out of harm’s way and took care of matters, herself.
Today, I was that little boy, all over again, holding Mom, ready to defend her-against any suffering she might still be feeling. Now, there is little, or none. She still draws breath, and is semi-warm to the touch. Her heart, lungs and brain are still doing their basic work. This didn’t stop me from wanting to protect her-though from God knows what.
I felt the uncertainty, driving back from Lynnfield, this evening. Family members sensed this and engaged in text message levity, which helped soothe any of my own feelings of dread. I also told myself that, whilst on the road, my ancillary mission is to be part of a safe network of motorists. Other drivers are my family, between any two points. The mother and baby sitting on the curb, at Bedford Motel’s driveway, are family. The joggers running on the side of the road, going both for and against traffic, are family. So, too, are the construction workers, the semi-truck driver trying to pass everyone on the inside and the half-crazed person with the crazy hair, tail-gating me on a number of side streets. Most of the rest of the motoring public are like distant, but still significant, cousins.
Mostly, though, I will be told that my main job is to protect myself. So I will-that I may complete this present mission, to finish honouring my mother; that I may manage the four-day camp, after my return to Arizona; that I may fulfill a pledge to visit several Baha’is from Carson City to Vancouver Island and mainland British Columbia-with several people in Oregon, Washington and Idaho, in between; that I may also make good on my promise to return to the Philippines, this Fall.
That little boy will always love and defend his mother, by living up to what she taught.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 