Ghost Ranch, Day 3: The Art of The Trim

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January 10, 2024, Ghost Ranch- Several things are predictable, so far this week: The sunrises and sets have been spectacular; the mornings and evenings are a bit on the chilly side here, and the breakfast fare consists of scrambled eggs, large sausage links (or Beyond Patties, for vegans), oatmeal and/or granola, plenty of fruit. 

I lapsed into writing “2023”, for a few days, correcting that this evening. Other unexpected resets involved remembering things that my Eighth Grade Industrial Arts teacher, as well as my father and uncles, tried so hard to convey to my squirrely teenaged self. It’s amazing, just how much I have channeled all the practicalities that I thought were useless, back in the day. 

One thing I have always done fairly well, though, is painting buildings, both inside and outside. In the past, this has helped me make ends meet in Dexter, Maine, earn a rent rebate in South Deerfield, MA and made Penny happy, when I painted the outside, and most of the rooms of our Phoenix house, before her final months on this Earth. 

Today began a three-day painting of the area that our team of three is renovating. I have the painting honours, while my co-workers wrestle with the installation of new countertops and sinks. Team Lead showed me a few of his tips on getting it right the first time, and I conjured other pointers that my Dad showed us. Today’s focus was painting along the edges, top and bottom and around extraneous spots, such as strike plates and door frames.

Focusing on trims and edges gives detail its due. My life, as civically involved and as conscious of others as I have been, has nonetheless largely been on my own. At day’s end, I have mostly answered to myself, over the past thirteen years. I sense that may be changing, within the next year or so. Right now, that’s just a hunch, a feeling welling up from gut and heart-but the last time I felt this sort of energy shift was a month before I met Penny. It’s a good feeling, and proof that there is much life left to live.

Style and Substance

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August 25, 2023- The little boy greeted me, in late morning, with a warm hug. The angry woman, later in the evening, with much the opposite.

Like so many days, this one began light and airy-and ended with a thud. I woke, sensing that the energy around me was shifting in a positive direction and that, in advance of the journey that begins at the end of next week, my path in what remains to be done here in the meantime would be free of obstacles. The work day reflected that, with the children energetic and cooperative, and my colleagues just happy to see another Friday, though they do enjoy their work. Everyone likes a rest, or change of pace, after a week at a job well done.

I visited Rafter Eleven, and was treated like a king-an extra mocha java was delivered to my table, as a token of appreciation for consistent support of this marvelous enterprise, over the bottom of the past eight years. A little bee was also attracted to my light meal, and to the drink, eventually finding its way to the bottom of the glass. Unfortunately, the poor animal perished from the still icy condition of the vessel-or maybe from the caffeine.

After leaving my friend’s establishment, I chose to join an in-person meeting, instead of going back to Home Base and signing onto Zoom. The hosts and the presenter were congenial, and the information quite illuminating. Not everyone was glad to see me however, and after a fashion, I found it best to excuse myself and head out-easy enough to do, as it had been a long, if lovely, day up to that point-and I needed rest.

There have been, every so often, people in my life who do not take kindly to my manner of speech or style of explanation. I try to learn what I can from such a person, for a time, and if it makes me more well-rounded or expands my knowledge, so much the better. Style, however, tends to reflect the substance of a soul. An angry, wounded soul will be abrupt, castigating and intolerant. I have not done well, in the presence of such people and this evening was no exception.

For my part, I know that I do not think well on my feet at the end of the day-and frequently, I do not engage well in debate, even when rested. This means nothing to the disquiet person, and is often viewed by them as an excuse. The whole trigger this evening was my statement that I like to back up my comments with the words of Baha’u’llah or ‘Abdu’l-Baha, not as a proselytizing mechanism or as a substitute for good deeds, but as the glue that holds my own words and deeds together. That led to an outburst of anger, and I chose to leave, rather than exacerbate the situation.

For a time, once back in the apartment, I pondered whether this is an indication that my time here in this community is getting short, that maybe the bloom is off the rose and I need to move on. The counter to that, I know, is that the part of myself that triggers anger in disquiet people will only spark the same, at the next place, if I move along. It’s better to keep this Home Base for now, get my journeys done in September and October, and resume work here from November through mid-May.

With that, I am headed to sleep, and hope for a peaceful weekend.

The Day of Six Twos

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February 22, 2022- Today was given the moniker, “Twosday”, for the numerical palindrome and ambigram it serves up. A palindrome, of course, looks the same when written either frontwards or backwards. An ambigram, on a calculator, looks the same whether right side up , or upside down.

Astrologers find shifts in energy happen on such a day; scientists, not so much. Today did not seem to bring any of the seismic events that similar palindromic days have in the past-such as the deaths of Napoleon Bonaparte and Josef Stalin. Then, too, this year has a distinct feminine energy flow to it, the behaviour of Vladimir Putin aside.

My day was also quiet- gathering forms for my tax return, and missing one key part, which will be retrieved tomorrow; exercising and getting laundry done, followed by two Baha’i gatherings on Zoom. It was said there would be snowfall by evening. We await that to come to fruition, and thus I refrained from taking on any work for tomorrow. Arizona weather is noted for two things: Sameness and occasional last-minute surprises. Either one could define tomorrow.

There does seem to be a slight energy shift, however, and it would do my heart good to see a boomerang effect, back towards peaceful resolution of geopolitical wrangling.