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.

Straight Lines and Circles

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May 5, 2023- In the back room of yet another blessed, beloved coffee shop, Williams’ Brewed Awakenings, I joined a study session on “Participating in Public Discourse”. In it, we consider what is the most productive and ethical means of encouraging and promulgating civil, spiritually-nourishing public conversations on a multitude of issues.

A key premise, that occurred to the participants this morning, is that linear thinking can be disrupted, in and sent off into tangents- “Us vs. Them”, in so many words. Such a dichotomy is surely tempting. It is, after all, an outwardly reasonable means to make sense of a world in which there are so many different choices. It allows for such concepts as spectrum, continuum and degrees of influence. It allows for a beginning and an end. Linear thinking also allows for “Games of Gotcha”, “Cat Have Your Tongue?” and all other systems that let human beings sit in judgement of one another-as individuals and as groups.

The circle is a symbol of unity. When I was challenged by another member of the group for having said that love is the foundation of all virtues, while she held that truth is actually that foundation, it helped to note that love and truth are part of the circle. Neither really has prominence over the other, and the two are actually one another’s basic companions. So it is with the round, enclosed entity; nothing that nourishes, that fulfills, really exists separately from anything else that provides sustenance and affirmation. The ending of one cycle is the beginning of another-as is shown in everything from the Mayan calendar to the 1998 pop song, “Closing Time”. Indeed, when Baha’u’llah wrote “This is the Changeless Faith of God, eternal in the past, eternal in the future”, He was pointing out that the Creative Force (God, if you will) is quite capable of having set about a Universe, before the one we know now, and is quite capable of bringing this Universe to an end, many eons from now, or next week, and bringing a new Universe into being.

I have lived a life that seeks understanding, unity and harmony. It seems that is more attainable using the inclusiveness of the circle, rather than the separation suggested by a linear model-though some are sure to say, “Well, a line does connect.” Fair enough, and the circle that heals, does have to be permeable.

What Eternity Is Worth

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March 11, 2023- I attended a memorial service this afternoon, for a man who pretty much devoted his life to the elevation of anyone with whom he came into contact. When his time came, in December, the last photo taken of him was of a smiling man, lifting both arms up, ready for the next level of existence. He was sure he was going to meet Jesus-and my hunch is that he has.

There are those, however, in his circle of friends, who have other ideas. They snarl and sputter about their departed friend’s generosity to the less fortunate. The finite mind is trying to outmaneuver the infinite, as once again, money and power are exercising their appeal. I can’t get more specific than that, due to the matter being in legal process. If injustice seems to be getting the upper hand, however, mine will be one of the loudest voices in this community, calling out the miscreants.

It is worthwhile to ask, however, what is the power-monger’s concept of eternity? Those who occupy the highest seats in any given denomination, of many, if not most, of the world’s major sectarian entities, and a good many of those down the ranks, behave for all the world, as if the promise of eternity does not really exist-or if it does, it is more of the same, with rank having its privileges. The finite mind can never comprehend the infinite. To be fair, the same sense of entitlement is rife among the elite, and the aspiring elite, in many walks of life besides the clergy.

There is, however, good reason why Jesus the Christ cast the moneylenders out of the Temple in Jerusalem, why Mohammad did battle with the merchant class of Yathrib and why Baha’u’llah wrote that “The best beloved of all things in My sight is Justice” (not power, not control, but justice). The way to a better world lies in transcendence of attachment to the material, and in seeing the things of this world as simply tools, as aids to a temporary state of existence-and not as ends in themselves.

It remains to be seen, how many of the departed gentleman’s associates recognize that fact.

Smooth Ride, Small Tremors

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October 25, 2022- I slipped out of Carson City in the early morning darkness, around 5:15, hoping to catch breakfast at a small bakery in Yerington, about an hour away, as Carson’s eateries don’t open until around 7. Alas, neither does the bakery in Yerington. It did give me a good start on the long ride back to Prescott, which I was determined to complete, so as to attend a celebration of the Birth of al-Bab, with my Faith Community.

This is the week when Baha’is observe the births of both al-Bab and of Baha’u’llah, as the days occur consecutively, on the Islamic calendar, which of course was the determinant of their birth dates. We use a calendar with similar reckoning, for determining the dates of Holy Days, such as these birthdays. So, this year, al-Bab’s Birth is celebrated after sundown on October 25, or during the day on October 26. Baha’u’llah’s Birth is celebrated after sundown on October 26 or during the day on October 27.

The drive itself was steady and smooth. I got breakfast at Beans and Brews, in Tonopah, and learned it is one of about two dozen branches of a Utah-based enterprise. The workers seem very happy, and they serve good coffee and food, so it is always worth a stop, when in Tonopah. Traffic was not heavy, even in Las Vegas. I was back in Arizona by 2 p.m., stopping only for gas and a light lunch, at “Last Stop in AZ”, which is ironically on the southbound side of US 93. Drowsiness started to kick in, as I approached Jolly Road, near Seligman, so I pulled off and rested for about fifteen minutes. It was there that I felt the unmistakable tremors. Sure enough, there was a shaking, 5.1, though in Silicon Valley, a distance of 647 miles. I still felt it, when I got back to Prescott, so there must have been a few aftershocks.

The gathering for the Birth of al-Bab was large and joyful. Someone who had recently been on Pilgrimage to the Holy Land gave each of us a rose petal and small card with a prayer on it. A nice, light meal was provided by the hosts and we caught up with what each of us had been doing, over the past two weeks. Later, I got a message from the Carson City family, saying I was already missed. This is ever sweet, and I know this: So many friends, far and wide, generate strong feelings of love in my heart. I will always do what I can to have their backs, whether they are in Prescott, Carson City, Phoenix, Grapevine, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts-or any of over a hundred locations, where a warm reception awaits.

At What Cost?

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October 3, 2022- The obviously disgruntled man, having finished his meal, offered his solution to what he viewed as the incompetence of those working in social institutions- in essence, ‘Put them out of their misery’. Of course, he was watching, with a puckish grin, to see if I showed any sign of being shocked. I was not, and did not.

The extreme “solutions” being put forth by certain elements on the fringes of society are given more cachet, by many people who know better, than they will ever deserve. The result, if their impulses are transmuted into action, will be a severe disruption of society-and will make January 6, 2021 seem like a walk in the park. It will also not end in the way they think.

The man in question is not in a position to bring havoc to bear on many people. He is homeless and disabled, and no doubt, those factors contribute to his animus towards people in positions of authority, in business as well as in government. We, on the Monday evening feeding crew, work to at least provide a measure of solace to those who have known nothing but grief, from a good many who are in decision-making situations. Anger, especially among those who are fairly well-educated, but who have been dealt a poor hand, does not spring out of nowhere. The man quoted above knows his Bible, chapter and verse. He also has watched many videos on the Gaia Network, and has made some connections between the two.

Misdirected or misapplied knowledge, from any direction, can bring about changes in society. Yet will the changes result in the betterment of society, or end up costing us all far more than even the perpetrators of those changes bargained.

“The betterment of the world can be accomplished through pure and holy deeds and through commendable and seemly conduct.”-Baha’u’llah

Fourth Quarter Musings

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October 2, 2022- The ten-year-old girl was apologetic, as she corrected me about a certain procedure, at an event where I was volunteering, this afternoon. I assured her that the advice was welcome, and well-taken. The correction made all the difference, and obviated any embarrassment that would have ensued, had I not been reminded of the proper procedure.

My relationships with people, regardless of age, gender, or any other physical or social consideration, have matured, evolved-to the point where the only thing that matters, at all, is character. This is especially true since 2015, which was about the time that I left recovery mode, four years after Penny’s passing. Even vicious people whom I encountered were able to provide insights that could be incorporated into my personal growth. They were, on balance, not people of good character, so they are no longer in my life. The lessons, though, remain.

As we enter the fourth quarter of this year that has brought sea changes to many aspects of our lives, I find myself closing the door on things I find bogus: The almost whimsical political e-mails, which change with the wind, and whose intent is solely to wring money out of the fearful; the “controversy” over an African-American woman playing James Madison’s crystal flute-with dignity and respect, I might add; in fact, ANY claim that people should mind their place. I treat children with the respect that is their birthright. I treat elders with the respect that their long lives have earned, as well as being their birthright. I treat everyone in between, with the same respect. It is nice that I am able to bring genuine smiles to people’s faces, as a result of that respect.

My goals for the next three months are fairly straightforward. I will work a bit, this week, and over parts of November and December. I will help the Red Cross and local service groups, when I can. Visits with friends in Nevada and Idaho will take up a couple of weeks, later this month, followed by two days celebrating the Birthdays of al-Bab and Baha’u’llah, the dates of which are a day apart. November will see a visit to Monument Valley and with some friends in southeast Utah. Thanksgiving, as has been the case for the past two years, will be spent with my little family, in Grapevine. It is there that I will turn 72. December will see a three-day visit to southern California, just before Christmas and to Taos and Santa Fe, just after. Christmas itself will be here at Home Base.

Everything that is worth while is based on love. So on we go.

The Walls Continue to Shatter

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September 3, 2022, Colorado Springs- “Ye are the fruits of one tree and the leaves of one branch”-Baha’u’llah.

The above statement was written by our Spiritual Teacher to the entire human race, nearly 150 years ago. He asked what harm there was in recognizing the Oneness of Mankind, and never sought power, money or political influence. Those whose aims WERE rooted in such earthly concerns saw fit to attack him, both physically and socially. Their views were, and are, short-sighted, not even considering the true interests of their countrymen or even their own long-term best interests. He had every one’s prosperity and well-being in mind, throughout His Ministry and His Teachings will resonate for centuries to come, as do the essential Teachings of every Messenger of God. There is not a scintilla of difference between Them, in terms of spiritual truths.

So do those of us gathered this weekend ponder the application of Baha’u’llah’s Teachings for each of the problems facing the planet, in this Day, one hundred thirty years after His passing. From the youngest child capable of articulation to those older than me, we note that each of these issues stems from disunity, either deep-seated and “time-honoured” or based in momentary ignorance. None of us are perfect, and yet none of us need to separate ourselves from others, in either thought, word or deed. We mustn’t let others abuse or take advantage of us, nor need we build walls around ourselves.

As if to focus attention on the power of unity, nearly sixty people danced to the powerful music of a trio of drummers and singers who have moved here from Ghana, and are engaged in a vital building trade. Many of the children in attendance joined in the drumming also. It was one of the most powerful gatherings I have attended, since before COVID hit. We are indeed coming back to life as a society, as well as community.

Participants in a drum circle

The walls, both internal and external, continue to crumble.

An Invisible Frontier

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June 30, 2022, Jonesboro, Maine- The breakfast serving room was stifling, at the Comfort Inn, Amherst, NS, and I had some concern for the well-being of the attendant. She was quite vocal about the heat-mainly from the ovens in her immediate food preparation space. I thought it would be a good idea for the management to consider better ventilation. A good worker, to paraphrase the old United Black College Fund ad, is terrible to waste. We patrons at least were to take our food to our rooms. COVID protocols are still in place, in many establishments.

Two very different reactions to my presence in Amherst were to present themselves, as errands were discharged. When I went to the laundromat, the attendant was friendly at first, but once I told her where I was from, the smile faded and I was asked what I was doing in Amherst. At least I was left alone to complete my washing and drying. The people at the car wash were a lot nicer, and gladly exchanged four quarters for a dollar coin, so the wash could proceed.

My business in the Chignecto area complete, I drove over to Fundy National Park, in New Brunswick, and caught a few scenes of that home of high tides.

Any thoughts I might have had of further exploring Fundy were brought to a close by the approaching rain. It got quite heavy, at times, as I drove west, on TransCanada Highway 2. In and around Saint John, the province’s largest city, the rain was the heaviest. Being rush hour made things go that much slower-and of course, there was road construction, with lane closures. Nonetheless, the people along the Loyalist Trail (Saint John was a haven for those loyal to the Crown, during the American Revolution.) have the rush hour thing down to a fine art, with taking turns entering the open lane de rigeur.

A relatively short time, maybe forty minutes, later, I was at the border crossing, where the inspector briefly peered into my back seat, glanced at my passport and said “Welcome home”. If only we lived in a world where everyone could have that kind of a border greeting, each time. The invisible frontier, however, attracts its share of grifters and smugglers-so sometimes, the rest of us need to exercise forbearance.

Beyond Calais, Maine, I took note of these scenes along the St. Croix River.

A few miles further south, the St. Croix Island International Peace Monument commemorates the first, ill-fated French expedition, led by Pierre Dugua, an explorer, soldier and fur trapper. The group landed on St. Croix Island in the Fall of 1604, with the intention of claiming the area for France. A harsh winter ensued, and despite the assistance of the Passamaquoddy people, who were native to the area, the party lost about half of its members. In the spring of 1605, Dugua and his group departed the area, for another point on the Canadian mainland. Canada and the United States jointly maintain this historical site.

The presence of this monument underscores the value of seeing that “The Earth is but one country and Mankind its citizens”- Baha’u’llah.

I continued on to the small town of Perry. There, a restaurant called New Friendly featured a cheerful, talkative waitress, who seemed to connect with everyone, a shy teenaged girl, who was looking around for something productive she might do and a visibly flustered, rather crochety woman, who seemed to be the owner. I was served by the waitress, and enjoyed a nice meal of fried clams-with full bellies, which I love, being a son of New England. I was the last one in the door, and so was about the last one to pay. The owner took my payment, seemingly glad to see me leave.

The end of the line, for tonight, is Blueberry Patch Motel and Cabins. I am in a tiny cabin, recommended to me by the night clerk, who said I had just made it through the door, before she turned out the Welcome sign. Yes, I got the last cabin-with one motel room going unclaimed. Rural Mainers do things a bit differently, and the invisible frontier, between being hard at work and being tired enough to stop for the night, takes on a different hue up here.

Division Street, and The Bonsai That Unite

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May 16, 2022, San Clemente- The drunken man, professing White Supremacy, yelled at me to “Get lost”, as I walked along El Camino Real, in this Orange County beach town. I guess the t-shirt I’m wearing, with its Baha’i logo, set him off. I kept walking and he drove off.
Baha’u’llah does state that “Man is the supreme Talisman. Lack of a proper education, however, hath deprived him of that which he doth inherently possess.”- Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 259. Nowhere, of course, does He limit this bounty to any particular group of people.

Last night, at FOUND Hotel, in San Diego’s Little Italy, there were a few folks who were acting mighty lost, while saying they wished others-particularly the homeless who wanted to be let in, would get lost. No hostel, or residential hotel, is equipped to handle random homeless people wandering in off the streets. There has been progress made in sheltering, in many cities, but the task is looking Sisyphean. The number of units and condominia, catering to the uberwealthy are increasing at a rate outpacing those that provide for people in lower income brackets. Those who are experiencing homelessness, particularly in communities where housing costs are exorbitant-almost to an unconscionable level, are also finding their numbers increasing. Division Street, the nominal and actual social divider, of which Studs Terkel wrote in 1967, has become a metaphor for the country as a whole. Some hard decisions, regarding the accumulation of wealth, at the expense of a great many people, will need to be made in the not-too-distant future. Everyone will need to be at the table for this one.

I needed to change the channel in my head, after seeing so many people encamped in downtown San Diego, along Pacific Coast Highway and near Mission Beach. Revisiting Balboa Park’s Japanese Friendship Garden set the right tone. My focus was on the collection of bonsai, now at 18 and looking in on the koi, who were small when I was last there, in 2015.

Here are a few scenes from the Garden. The koi in the pond nearest the entrance have tripled in size, these past seven years.

Three types of bonsai: Pine, flowering and unflowered leafy are on display, in the Garden’s Bonsai Center.

My rejuvenation complete, it was an easy trip northward to Orange County, stopping briefly to complete some business at San Diego Baha’i Center, taking a detour to La Jolla’s sandy beach and another to La Cristianita Historic Site, in Camp Pendleton, which commemorates the first baptism in Alta California.

Tonight, I am comfortably at House of Trestles Hostel, amongst surfers and other lovers of the ocean. Here, everyone feels at home, even the dachshund-chihuahua mix.

The First Nation and the People of the Future

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May 15, 2022, San Diego- Today saw two focuses: First was a pair of meetings-one on the Hidden Words of Baha’u’llah, brief, but profound thoughts on spirituality and morality, which He intended to serve as instructions to those who were undertaking independent investigation of truth; the second, in mid-afternoon, was a presentation of two children’s books, each written about a powerful Black woman.

The people of the future will, perhaps after a fair amount of suffering and changes in society, recognize both intellectually AND emotionally, that mankind is one human race. That today’s presentation comes a day after a deluded young man drove two hundred miles, specifically to kill Black people (of whom eight were killed, along with two Whites, and three seriously wounded.), is no real coincidence. There is no real future for the philosophy of racial supremacy. The unity of the human race means that there will be no replacement of one group by another. Nor will there be a return to the oppression of one group by another.

After resting for a while, upon the conclusion of the second meeting, I made a return visit to Old Town San Diego. My focus this time was on the recognition of the area’s First Nation: Kumeyaay, formerly known as “Diegueno” and on the art of the Mexican people, prior to California’s passing into U. S. control. Here are some scenes of this visit.

The above scene honours the Pico Family, one of the San Diego area’s more prominent Mexican families of the early Nineteenth Century.

Below are two Mexican ollas, or water jugs, each with its own colours and designs.

I needed a change of pace for dinner, after enjoying a visit with friends at Harbor Breakfast, this morning and planning to return there again tomorrow. There was no better place than Cafe Gratitude, a vegan establishment, which titles its offerings with affirmations. Here is a description on the eatery’s window.

It was a most wondrous day, starting with the bright faces of Melissa and Maria, at Harbor, continuing at San Diego Baha’i Center (the site of Penny’s and my wedding, nearly forty years ago), continuing with the delightful stories of achievement this afternoon, the vibrance of Old Town and the healthy fare of Cafe Gratitude.