Eastbound and Back, Day 27: No Fire This Time

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May 25, 2024, Bethlehem, PA- I was drifting off to another blissful sleep, and the unmistakable sound, from years of running drills at various schools, got me out of bed and out of the building, in a flash. There I was, pajama-clad, and in sockless shoes, with a slowly-accumulating gathering of fellow guests, and the few staff who didn’t need to be in the office. “It’s just like school, huh?”, I remarked to an excited little girl, as her father grimaced and shook his head. The whole episode lasted twenty-five minutes, the police officer gave the all-clear and we headed back inside, as the seven firefighters continued their inspection of the wiring and checking for signs of (illegal) indoor smoking, or untended cooking. (This is an extended stay establishment, and there are two flat stove burners, in each room, as well as a microwave oven-which could lead to burnt popcorn.) The Cuban maintenance director, sounding like Desi Arnaz on steroids, promised he’d find out if anyone was responsible for the mayhem. All I know is, it wasn’t me-and probably wasn’t the guy standing next to me, who looked as if he were a clean-shaven Rip Van Winkle.

My last night in New England, for this trip, anyway, came to an end with a small purchase of a coffee and empanada, from 7-11, and a farewell to Nitey-Nite Motel’s owner, who barely looked up from his game of Solitaire, as I dropped off the key card. That’s okay; he offers clean, quiet rooms at a decent price. Hartford and Waterbury were a breeze to get past. Danbury was still Danbury-the same jockeying for position, at the split between U.S. 7 and I-84, leading some of us to wait 2-3 seconds in the inner lane of 7, before a quick break let us onto the 84.

It’s been a while since I stopped at Arlene and Tom’s Family Diner, Port Jervis. The same “Home of the Free, because of the Brave” sign is there, and the TV is still set to Newsmax. The pastrami is still among the best in the Catskill region, though, so that’s what matters most. Besides, it is always good to know what both sides are thinking, in this cosmic stew that is America, and the world, in 2024.

This visit to New England, and to the northeast Atlantic region beyond, reassured me of everyone’s love. Seeing cousins from both sides of the family, being able to repay Mom for all the nurturing she has given, over seven decades, being with my three siblings in a delightful dining room, visiting the graves of my father and baby brother, visiting a boyhood friend and connecting with Baha’is in Cape Breton Island, Corner Brook (NL) and Green Acre Baha’i School have made the month an exemplary one. Starting May off with a visit to the House of Worship certainly helped, in terms of spiritual energy. There was more interest in the Faith, from family and friends, this time around. Mom even read some prayers from my book. I was sent forward with top-notch pizza in Mishawaka, and, despite the jibes from someone I love very much, managed to keep in the good graces of hoteliers from Gallup to South Windsor. Time on the French-ruled island of St. Pierre was the icing on this very rich cake.

Now I am in Pennsylvania, with this hotel, an Air BnB and a private guest room as places of rest, during this second round of family visits. This evening was another special event-well before the fire drill. I visited these fine people, enjoyed fabulous Persian rice, salad and soup, with copious amounts of jicama and watermelon for dessert. I was also edified by the various “Got Talent” clips of performances by American and British senior citizens-most of whom were extraordinarily talented.

I also was briefly introduced to Tatamy Village’s community park.

Tatamy Park

Now, I lay me down to sleep, again.

Gordian Knots

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April 18,2024- A bit ago, a boy in an intermediate school was placed in detention, for hitting a girl classmate. He told the principal that he felt demeaned by the girl and her friends, so he did the only thing he knew-he lashed out.

Anxiety fuels fear, which fuels aggression, which fuels more anxiety and aggression-all tied up in a Gordian knot. The legend of Alexander the Great has the king using the expedient solution of cutting a complex knot with a sword, rather than trying to loosen and unravel it. Modern times find certain rulers using brute force, in an attempt to bring an end to “intractable” problems. Thus, a series of events that would be amusingly schoolboyish, were they not so chilling, are unfolding between two countries-in the guise of preservation of faith.

Thomas Sowell’s admonition that there are no solutions, only trade-offs, has never rung more true than in the matter of the conflict in western Asia. The resolution of this matter involves, essentially, two basic processes: 1. All people living within the borders of a nation-state need to have a full voice in the affairs of that nation-state, provided they are willing to abide by the laws of that nation-state; 2. Countries that neighbour one another need to fully honour the legitimate rights of all people in their neighbouring states, to say nothing of honouring the legitimate rights of their own citizens. The trade-offs will need to be worked out, but they cannot allow dominance of any one country, or national ideology, or authoritarian ruler, over its neighbours.

I’m keeping an eye on the situation in western Asia, at least for the effect it will have on my plans for Autumn, which presently involve transit stops in two airports in that region. Those places need to show a modicum of safety, in order for anyone to make even the briefest of stops. There is also the impact the conflict will have (is at least temporarily having) on global finance. The possibility exists that I may be working for wages in October, instead of visiting Baha’is in east Africa, after my September visit to the Philippines.

Fear triggers anxiety, which brings on aggression, triggering more fear and anxiety. I face all this, knowing that in either Plan A or Plan B, I will be okay on a personal level. Many communities and countries will get through the matter, just fine. There will, however, be vast areas, and millions of people, who won’t be at all fine-with the situations in Gaza, Darfur and Ukraine just the beginning, unless the Gordian Knots are untied, rather than cut.

Not Too Taxing

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March 4, 2024- Four years ago, the retired IRS inspector was ready to haul me before a few of her successor agents, for an infraction that was really a disagreement between the agency and my employer at the time. It was resolved by a few phone calls that were above my pay grade.

Today, this same former inspector couldn’t have been nicer. My financial situation is certainly much more cut and dried, so the process this time took less than an hour. The American Association of Retired Persons has redeemed itself, in my eyes, and I, in its. Besides that, I have a five-year membership.

Most everything, these days, from the most discrete of my friendships to the online dance party that lets me limber up, is on a smooth track. The key to it all is keeping a sense of constancy, of self-assurance that is closely linked with faith in the Divine. Baha’is between the ages of 15-70 are fasting now, as I did, not so many years ago. My prayers go out on their behalf-and that has some effect on what transpires on this end, as well-paying both backward and forward.

So, from the coffee klatsch this morning to the the dance party that just ended, this day was not at all taxing.

A Library Jenga, Nine Lanterns and OB’s Farmers’ Market

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February 21, 2024, San Diego- The stack of books is about 5 feet, 2 inches tall. It is arranged like Jenga blocks, though it won’t fall down if one pulls a book from the middle. This is Big Rainbow House’s library.

A Jenga Library

With a more sunny day in the offing, I headed up to visit a long-time friend in Orange County. In the past, we have frequented one or another beach front restaurant. Today, the focus was on Laguna Niguel, a community about five miles inland from Dana Point. I got to drive the length of Golden Lantern Road. There are nine “lantern” roads, emanating from Dana Point Harbor, that I recall: Violet, Crystal, Blue, Green, Ruby, Amber, Silver, Copper and Golden. The street names were a marketing tool for the newly subdivided community of Dana Point, in the 1920s. Each starts with a coloured lantern atop the western terminus of the street.

Before that little drive, I spotted a pair of harbour seals, lounging on the stern of a small yacht, in Dana Point’s central marina. The female was barking, clamouring for attention-or so it seemed. The male was seemingly dead to the world.

Two on a platform

After a brief stroll around the marina, and an equally short walk at Dana Point’s hilltop overlook, I headed towards Laguna Niguel. A large family of Baha’is once lived in this pleasant. green canyon-laced community. So I felt drawn to have a look at the area. Being a bit early for our lunch appointment, I walked around the community’s regional park. Its centerpiece is Aliso Creek, a shallow rill that is nonetheless running in robust fashion-a bantam rooster of streams, if you will.

Aliso Creek, Laguna Niguel Regional Park (above and below)

Just after I took these shots, I spotted a pair of Mallards, attempting to cross the road. I also spotted a vehicle coming towards them. Gesturing to the driver and pointing to the male duck, either spooked the quacker or he felt the vibrations of the car. The pair dashed back to the side of the road and the car kept on going. The ducks then made their way to Aliso Creek.

The surviving mallards (in center left, Aliso Creek)

Lunch, at Avila’s La Ranchita, one of about five family-owned chains, in southwest Orange County, is a true delight-with every dish prepared on site, from fresh ingredients-no cans or bottles. There is no skimping on the meats and vegetables in the various tacos, quesadillas, tamales, enchildadas or tostadas. Equally important, the chips are baked daily and the salsa is freshly made. Even the iced tea is brewed on site. I am always alert to the difference between fresh and processed. This place is for real-and worth a drive eastward from the beach.

I came back to Ocean Beach, in time for the Wednesday Farmers’ Market. It is slightly larger than ours back in Prescott-but this is San Diego, after all, and the vegetables, fruits, cheeses, juices and various hot foods are all amazing, in variety and quality. I got a few items, and called it a night. One must be prudent, even when on holiday.

Actual Vacation, Day 4

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November 23, 2023, Grapevine- The plates were full, the food well-crafted and the three of us, enjoyed every part of this meal-on what, at least to me, is the auspicious 23rd day of the 11th month, in the 23rd year of the 21st Century, AD/CE. Where there is love, there is good food and an attitude of gratitude.

My gratitudes, this year, are many: The program at True North Nutrition, which started me on the systematic loss of forty-seven pounds, between February and November; the growth in my circle of friends-in Prescott, across the continent and in the Philippines, where I connected with a sponsored youth and his mother, chatted up a beleaguered farmer, about whose cause I will be updating quite often, in the months ahead and the Baha’is of the Manila Metro area, three of whom in particular made my stay memorable, through their constant accompaniment; the continued good health of my immediate and extended family; my opportunities for service in the Prescott area-and through the Red Cross, in Watsonville, CA, in the aftermath of a disastrous flood situation, last Spring; the children who let me help them, in their long-term striving to grow and develop their strengths.

As always happens, after the meal, we took to a short, but brisk, trail. Oak Grove Park lies across Grapevine Lake from Rockledge, which we visited last year. There are probably 5-6 miles of short trails, but the three of us stuck to the paved lengths this time. Here are a few scenes of the area.

Near dock, Oak Grove Park, Grapevine
West end of Grapevine Lake, at Oak Grove Park
A boat house, through the trees
Small quartz quarry, Oak Grove Park

This is another of my gratitudes, for the variety of nature that is ever accessible to share. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Expanding Home, Day 12: A Toe In The Water

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October 21, 2023, Paranaque- The driver seemed near the end of his rope: “How can you be staying someplace, and not know the address?” The equally flustered passenger was asking self the same question, but all the e-mails from the hotel gave a phone number and e-mail address, but no physical location. The gate guard at the airport knew the answer-“Sir, the rider cannot know the street address, because there is only a general location. Kindly drive around the edge of the terminal and turn left. You will both see a familiar face: Colonel Sanders. There is where the hotel is.” Driver followed the directions, the passenger sighed to self, paid the driver and went off to enjoy an evening of professional karaoke singers, playing all the hits they knew. It was a fine Saturday night, after all.

I spent the better part of the day with three or four Filipino Baha’is, at the National Center/South Luzon Regional Office. We also scouted my residence for the coming week, which is close to the office and will allow me to establish the bonds that are as much my goal for this journey, as the visit, three days ago, with my sponsored youth was. I will thus have put a toe in the water, figuratively speaking. By the end of my time here, the Philippines will seem as much like home as Arizona, California, New Mexico, Colorado,Carson City, Texas, Pennsylvania, New England, Atlantic Canada, the Pacific Northwest, Brittany and South Korea. Home is definitely expanding.

I was not always certain that I would take to the tropics, the same way that my temperate mindset has reveled in lands with four seasons. It is, however, more a sense of the heart being touched by the gentleness, overall, of people here-much as the First Nations peoples and the farm folk around North America, and the Celts of Brittany, have won that heart. Truth be known, I barely feel the intense heat. Sunscreen and a good hat take care of the physical aspect. I am, otherwise, mainly attending to conversations, some of them fairly deep, with both the Baha’i friends and people I have met here and in Bicol.

What this means for the years immediately ahead remains to be seen. Family will always be my primary responsibility, after service to Baha’u’llah. Being told, though, that I am always welcome here, means a lot.

Philippine Baha’i National Center-Main Library
Entrance to Baha’i National Center of the Philippines, Santa Ana District, near Manila

The Fallacy of Coercion

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March 25, 2023- Once, after Penny’s funeral, when I found a modest, but pliable, insurance deposit in my checking account, I got a call from someone who used the fact, that I had only myself to support, as a springboard to ask that I help fund a surgery that was needed. In those days of some confusion and recovery that accompanied the grieving process, I did not project ahead to the expenses of the ensuing four months before the final life insurance settlement would find its way to me. It felt like it was my bounden duty to help this individual, who had little. The choice was made to proffer a substantial amount in that direction. Fast forward three months, and I received a proposal from my handyman to renovate the house. Without giving it the proper amount of thought, I initially agreed to his offer, only to do the math afterward-and to end up cancelling the project, thus burdening him with returning the materials-and burdening myself with the loss of a friend.

I have come to the realization, these many years later, that there really was no coercion from anyone. I made both decisions, conflicting as they were, out of a desire to make someone else happy. To what extent the first person achieved happiness is a matter of opinion. I have not been willing or able to continue to dole out money in that direction. It goes without saying, that the second person is just as glad if he never sees me again.

In life, there are relatively few matters that are imperative. A parent must do the best to raise any child, who is birthed or adopted, to adulthood. A pet owner must see to the animal’s well-being. A citizen must contribute to the support of community, state and nation-both financially and civically. A worker must do the best to fulfill the basic requirements of a job. Communities must provide for the education of their young and for the basic care of disabled and elderly residents.

All else, however, is a matter of choice. In the 1970s, the comedian Flip Wilson had a routine, on his television program, in which he played a character whose retort to being chastised was “The devil made me do it.” We Baha’is know the “devil” to be the ego of a person, when it entices one to overindulge base instincts or desires, acting against the better nature. It was anthropomorphized long ago, in the days of Babylon-and has had a physical image ever since. This has the effect of allowing a person to deflect any blame for actions-which was exactly Wilson’s point. That such self-indulgence can generate negative energy, which can and does harm self and others, does not change the essence of its nature.

There is much that I take on, both paid and volunteer work. In each case, I have come to the understanding with myself that my choices are made strictly in consulting with my conscience, and not because of any pressure from outside. Guilting, whining or yelling and screaming have only made me turn away from the supplicant. There is no such real thing as coercion, when you give the matter some thought.

The Carson Loop, Day 1: A Path of Constancy

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October 15, 2022, Tonopah, NV- Any journey begins with securing one’s place of return. I began the day with a brief visit to Prescott Farmer’s Market, buying sprouts to help sustain me, whilst on the road and kombucha, for when I get back and need a boost, during the change of seasons. My other close-to-home errand was a stop at Chino Valley’s Harvest Festival, with the aim of helping some other Baha’is set up their booth. Alas, between leaving the market late and having a bit of trouble finding the site, by the time I got there, only one small task remained. I helped with that, and had to leave, which didn’t particularly set well with the Friends, but having to run back to the house and get something needful that I had forgotten, and wanting to be up here in time to connect with two Zoom meetings, I bid them farewell.

Getting to the Kingman area, I found myself in the midst of a rather intense post-monsoonal storm, which dumped nearly an inch of rain on the lower Mohave Desert, only dissipating just shy of Las Vegas. Slotsville traffic was relatively mild, and I passed along U.S. 95, with little trouble. Only one stop, at the Speedway Gas Station, on the north end of Las Vegas (my go-to place for filling up in the city, when on a northward run), was needed. No stops were made this time, in Amargosa, Beatty or Goldfield, but I did notice that the latter will soon have its own Truck Stop, south of the historic district. That will be good for those who otherwise go 95 miles in-between fill-ups between Beatty and Tonopah.

Once here, in this mining community, I returned to Economy Inn, carefully pulling in, and being mindful of a distracted young man, who was pacing around the parking lot, playing with a large sling shot. I checked in, asked about the young man, and was told he is the owner and was probably pacing because he is renovating the property and has to do a lot of thinking. I was also informed that WiFi service there is in abeyance, but that the casino down the street will let anyone use its WiFi.

Thus, I sat on a bench, in the lobby of Tonopah Station, joining the two Zoom meetings, as a mostly silent participant-owing to the intermittent foot traffic and occasional noise of the lobby. This, again, didn’t seem to set well with a few of the meeting participants, but we do what we can in this life, and it has nothing to do with priorities. A young boy sat next to me, for a bit of the second meeting, comparing my laptop to the one he uses at his school. He was also enchanted by a music video, featuring Yusuf Islam joining a group of artists singing his song “Peace Train”. It’s always a joy to befriend children, and there is always time.

After conversing with a man who happened to be from a town near Kingman, and alerting him to ths storm that had hit that area, I went back to Economy Inn, and settled in the night. This post comes to you from Beans and Brews, a delightful coffee house, attached to a Union 76 gas station, and a must-stop when I am in Tonopah. The “kids”, both teenagers and older, are playful and very happy on the job. They also serve good fare.

Stay Close to Those Who Feel Like Sunlight

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May 3, 2022- This phrase, taken from a quote by Xan Oku, a Japanese poet and philosopher, has come to define the way I am moving in life. It came to mind when I heard a jingle on the computer, a short while ago, and began musing about those in my life who reflect that image.

I’ve mentioned those who mean the most to me, several times in past posts-so briefly, my Sunshine Tribe are closest immediate family, several of my fellow Baha’is, more than a few social activists in the Prescott area and dozens across Arizona, around the country and all over the planet.

The people who feel like sunlight are named Dave, Aram and Yunhee, John and Gladys, Mike and Pooran, Dave and Annie, Linda and Randy, Molly, Ashley, Emily T., Melissa, Robert and Andrea, Annie B., Tom and Jeanie, Val and Sparky, Beth and Dave, Kathleen, Akuura, Sierra, about five dozen children and teens who wouldn’t want their names mentioned and even people I have never met in person, like Marianne, Emily D., Enya, Dan, Valentina P. and Heather, whose words or singing never fail to elevate my spirit and edify my consciousness.

To be fair, almost everyone else in my world does bring a fair amount of sunshine, often with struggles-many of which I gladly share, in the hopes that their burdens might be a little lighter. So, maybe next time, the list will be longer. Let us continue to work at bringing the sunlight, after the clouds have done their work.

Ridvan

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April 21, 2022- The titular word means “Paradise”, and is the name given to two gardens in west Asia. The first was a lush garden, north of Baghdad, from whence Baha’u’llah departed for what is now Istanbul, in April, 1863. It became the site of Baghdad Medical City, a large complex of hospitals, in 1973. The second is an island, surrounded by canals, in the vicinity of Akka, Israel. It was rented by ‘Abdu’l-Baha, in 1875, as a place where Baha’u’llah could spend time away from the dust and confines of the Prison City of Akka. It reminded Him of the Iraqi Garden of Ridvan, thus becoming eponymous to that spot, and also sacred to Baha’is.

Ridvan is also the name given to the twelve-day festival that celebrates Baha’u’llah’s declaration of His mission, which occurred on or around the ninth day of His stay at the original Garden of Ridvan, and made in the presence of His family and closest followers. Today, April 21, was the day of His arrival at the Garden and May 2 was the day He and His entourage departed. Thus, we celebrate the first, ninth and twelfth days as Holy Days, suspending work to the extent humanly possible.

Today also begins the nine-year period of which I have spoken in a few previous posts. The Universal House of Justice, our Supreme Body, has issued the framework for a Nine-Year Plan. Baha’i communities are also devising plans, within that framework and individual believers in turn are planning activities that fit within both the global framework and community plans. Our Faith works in both a top-down and bottom-up manner; the two being in synchronicity, through constant communication and consultation.

Both my activities here at Home Base and my travels thus have an essentially spiritual component. The goal is always building unity between people.