The Road to Diamond, Day 360: Love and Mercy

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November 22, 2025- His voice cracking, and eyes starting to well, R stopped and recovered himself, then continued on with his account of the past five months, since I saw him last. R is one of the friends I will miss after leaving Prescott. He and his wife were among the first to welcome me, in 2011. Their restaurant is one of the mainstays of my life here, once a week, for breakfast or lunch. The shenanigans of the staff or of the locals that sit at the counter are always a hoot. I listened with rapt attention and reflective comments, as R filled me in on his so far successful fight for life. I want to see people win those kinds of battles.

Getting back to Home Base I, I arranged for the delivery of a piece of furniture that I have had re-upholstered. It had been in almost too sorry a condition to even invite people over. Now, it is in beautiful shape and I will be proud to hand it off to someone who needs a nice piece of furniture for their living room. As it happened, the delivery man’s schedule conflicted with my usual stint at Farmers Market, but as my cosmic advisor said of today-“It is a day to go with the flow, when life interrupts routine.” Delivery man and his helper were meticulous in bringing the piece in and getting it in place. They took their time folding their blankets and putting everything back in place.

I went to Farmers Market, anyway, and finding the crew dealing with a long line of vendors, I took care of cleaning and putting away the folding chairs and tables, then made headway in taking down at least some of the tents. It was then time for Baha’i Feast, so I left the nonetheless grateful crew, who by that time were finished with the vendors.

Feast was a cozy affair. We had our devotions and talked of community matters, then planned next month’s activities and enjoyed refreshments. This little community is also a group of people I will miss, having collaborated with them continuously for fourteen years, and having known many of them from our residence here in 1992 and 2000-01. The Baha’i Faith has only been an impetus for my positive growth as a human being.

Finally, I spent the evening at Raven Cafe, enjoying a light dinner and the music of a favourite local band, The Cheektones. Don and the boys have a knack for getting people up an dancing. I occupied an old wooden chair and had the company of a few friends of the band. After about 1 1/2 hours of bouncing in my seat, I got up and joined the dancing to the last two songs. Before I did so, the guys played a song that summed up today, and many days in my life: “Love and Mercy”, the Brian Wilson song from 1988. Here is an earlier performance by The Cheektones, from Prescott’s Summer Music on the Square series.

This is the last of my “two posts a day”, game of catch-up on this blog site. It has been sometimes a challenge, to find a theme for a given day, but from my readership, it seems there are plenty of you who identified with at least some of what has happened here, since my return from Europe.

Life is sweet.

Re-opened Skies

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September 7, 2024- It was only a matter of time before September Swelter gave way to the beginnings of autumn. This afternoon was that time, and a good soaking rain came to us. The phenomenon of late summer heat, known in the East and Midwest as “Indian Summer” is about as welcome as a Spring snowfall, but year after year, the Earth releases pent -up heat into the atmosphere, which is drying out after the monsoon- and so it stays, sometimes into October, which then may be called Aug-tober. The heat, of course, generates its own moisture, so here we are.

Elsewhere, rain comes late (Texas and Oklahoma experience September thunder showers) or comes early and hangs on (The Philippines and the mainland of southeast Asia are getting this weather now, much of it caused by typhoons). The Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico are also prone to heavy rains, about now, though this year’s hurricane season has seen fewer, but more powerful, storms.

Today’s rain came in two stages: Very early this morning and around early afternoon, just as we were finishing breakdown at the Farmer’s Market. I will be away from this service, for six weeks, so am hoping that at least one person returns from his hiatus. More is anticipated tomorrow, and I am hoping for a fortuitous “scheduling” of the wetness, to spare Empty Bowls, between 11-2, about which more in the next post.

Eastbound and Back, Day 37: Convenience

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June 4, 2024- There was a fair amount of activity in downtown Winslow, as I approached my favourite spot there: Relic Road, which is also called Sipp Shoppe. The place is another of those that just has a relaxed and welcoming vibe, so being time for lunch, I stopped in for a bit-and was revived, somewhat, for the drive down mountain to Camp Verde and on back here to Home Base I. Of course, I pulled over, about ten miles shy of Happy Jack and took a power nap, but between the two, lunch and rest did the trick. Journey # 1 of 2024 is a wrap.

A day or so ago, I got a text from one of the other volunteers at Solid Rock soup kitchen, asking if I would be there that night. I was still in northwest Texas, at that point in time, and so, just fed him my schedule and the next time I would be on the serving line. June is Arizona-centric, but somehow not a whole less busy. Tomorrow, I head downtown and join another Baha’i to meet with our Congressman’s staff, regarding the situation of the Baha’is in Iran, who as readers know, are being actively persecuted by some in positions of power in that country.

Friday starts 8 days at Bellemont, a Baha’i facility west of Flagstaff, where I will oversee the camp operations for a gathering of Youth (ages 16-20). This will be the largest event I have run, since the Red Cross shelter in Watsonville, a year ago in April. As was the case then, a wonderful, competent team is in place, so all issues that arise will be ably handled.

There are other activities this month, and for some reason, they all fall on Saturdays. My presence at Farmers Market’s breakdown, therefore, will be negligible, until August. That raises the issue of inconvenience. What is a chance to be useful to one person or group takes away from others. Solutions? There are a few-and I started with gentling reminding myself that there are 80,000 + people in this mini-Metro. Any presumption that an event will fail because I am not there is an ego trip that is best nipped in the bud. My friends know my heart, and will be able to carry on just fine when life takes me elsewhere.

We are not here to be creatures of convenience to others, but only are here to do the best we can, when and where we can be there. The flip side, of course, is to not be in the way-as I assured someone I love especially dearly, this evening, regarding time I will spend in and around her area, in the Fall. Life is an unending series of carefully choreographed dances, unending focuses of attention, that require careful judgment, as to when to engage and when to stand back. As my mother taught us, “It’s not about ME”.

Albert Camus, in his essay on the myth of Sisyphus, makes the summation: “What counts is not the best living, but the most living.” I would go one further step: What counts is the most of the best; the latter meaning Offering one’s own best, in the most situations.

Running the Maze

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January 6, 2024, Gallup- One of the classic experiments in Behavioural Psychology has rats running through a maze, in return for which any animal finding its way out will get a reward. 

It occurs to me that each of us can find ourselves running a maze, of sorts, in return for which we may receive a reward. I found myself working mazes, pretty much all day, and found the end, in each instance. 

Starting off, there were replies to a comment I posted on another social media outlet, regarding a local attempt at censorship. Most responders were opposed to the censorship ploy, but one, hailing back to bygone days, said that anyone going against conservative social norms deserves to be cut off. That really got the crowd going-piling on the hapless “good ol’boy”. I had to post that everyone was welcome on my page, so long as they did not advocate violence against those who hold a different point of view. I don’t go to drag shows, as they are not my cup of java. I also don’t go to rodeos, poker tournaments or gun shows. That doesn’t mean I think they should be banned, because I don’t. Parents can decide to not let their children view that format, and that’s their right. No one, though, should decide, for other informed adults, what they may see or not see-so long as the format does not include child pornography or horrific violence against defenseless people or animals. I found my way out of that maze.

Next up, there was a gathering to honour a Baha’i couple, who are leaving our area, in a few days. It was well attended, with great camaraderie and delicious food. There was one rub, for me. I talked with friends, past the time that came for me to head up to Farmers Market, and helping with breakdown. I found my way, belatedly, out of that maze and made my way through Saturday afternoon traffic, getting to the Market grounds by 12:50, only twenty minutes behind schedule. Bumping against the maze barriers wasn’t so bad.

The Market breakdown was no maze, though, and something I’ve wondered about for a while: ”How might our breakdown crew better connect with the set-up team?”  was answered, as a member of that team had stayed around, for that very purpose, and gave us hints as to how we might make their work easier. The suggestions were implemented, immediately.

Finally, there was the fairly quick packing and heading out to this old mining town, my rest stop on the way to Ghost Ranch. It turned out to be no maze. The skies were clear and the roads, bare. I am now at my standard resting place in town: The Dineh-owned Colonial/Ranchito Motel.

One Day, Four Events

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August 19,2023- I woke this morning, with the intent of primarily being on site at the eleventh annual Hope Fest, where I have helped local Christians, in some of the practical tasks that crop up during the course of their program of ministry to those who are suffering from homelessness, addictions and/or domestic abuse. There were to be two other activities: Helping break down the Farmer’s Market, which was essential, as a new person came on board today, and Spiritual Feast, in the evening.

A last-minute text message added a fourth event, and by 9 a.m., I was online, co-hosting the Worldwide Celebration of Unity. This has been needed of me during the main host’s lengthy illness, which continues in the recovery phase. The program went forward quite well, and by 10:15, I was back on site at Hope Fest-getting caught up with a few tasks, involving communications.

At noon, the Farmer’s Market site saw my shadow, the new person proved to be as energetic and as quick a study as the rest of the crew. We got everything cleaned and put away by 2 p.m., and back to Hope Fest I went. The afternoon proved very smooth, musicians were happy and some patrons with questions were my main concern, along with the woman custodian needing help. I left at 5:30, got ready for Feast and at 6:40, drove to a friend’s house for the devotional, consultation and fellowship that we Baha’is have, once in each nineteen day period. As always, the evening was lovely, made more so by this being at the host’s new home.

After Feast, I went back to Hope Fest, in anticipation of the lengthy process of wrapping things up and making sure that the clean-up, and putting away of borrowed equipment was in order. I found the concert by the event’s headliners (Building 429) was still in full swing, and enjoyed their last few songs-including the “good night” tune: A spirited beginning verse of “Don’t You Forget About Me’, by Simple Minds. Their spiritual tunes were well-crafted, and energized the audience to the very end. Things wound down nicely, a full crew was then engaged in putting chairs up, for the rental agents to collect, trash was collected one last time and unused water given to whoever wanted to take it with them or given to the Solid Rock Church, across the street. By 11:30, I was satisfied that all was in order, and that a late-night crew would take care of the stage breakdown-which did not require these old bones to be present.

Though I might have been annoyed by the last minute request, as recently as six months ago, these days, it just seems like part of the deal. As long as I feel up to helping out, it just seems like what is being asked by the Divine. There will be times, when being in two places the same day will seem unreasonable-and I will have to decline a request, but today, everything dovetailed quite nicely.

Intensity

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June 24, 2023- The day started in earnest, right around 8 a.m., with a quick visit to Farmer’s Market-stocking up on microgreens for the week and getting two bulbs of garlic and some flowers for a friend’s birthday dinner, later in the day. Running out of cash and tokens, I gave one bulb back to the farmer, then went back to HB, catching a half hour or so of the Celebration of Unity Zoom call.

Next, it was off to a Red Cross Blood Drive, where my role was to staff the registration table-checking people in and making sure they had completed all preliminaries, prior to their donation. This was a fairly busy five hours, and I felt successful and bushed at the end.

After changing clothes and leaving my Red Cross “uniform” at the apartment, it was off to a Farmer’s Market volunteer appreciation gathering, at a salubrious Willow Lake ramada. I was still a bit tired, heading up there, and briefly inconvenienced a tow truck driver, at an intersection. He got in his protest, and that was all. I do my level best, most of the time, on the road, but never will claim perfection. The gathering was exactly what I needed, after an intense work shift, and the company of young mothers and children afforded a unique and most essential take on our collective life.

Finally, after a run to Costco, to replenish the supply of flavoured water for upcoming gatherings of children and adolescents, it was time for the aforementioned birthday party. Four of us enjoyed fresh salad, vegan chili and fresh cherries, covering a wide range of topics in conversation. Wild animals in our midst, the right and responsibility of adults to conduct their own affairs and associating with people with whom we disagree were all covered amiably.

After the intensity of the day, I gladly relaxed at HB, viewing a light episode of a streamed program, then turned out the lights. Tomorrow could be just as intense, if I let it be. I think, though, that won’t be how it turns out.

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Inner and Outer Lights

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March 4, 2023- I found my friend, Pam, right inside the gate to M3F, by the medium-sized stage’s sound crew. She was alternating between rolling her hoops and ecstatic dancing-as usual, when at a live music festival, which she has largely made her life these days.

McDowell Mountain Music Festival is not held anywhere near the McDowell Mountains, anymore. It has found a home, the first weekend of March, at Margaret Hance Park, in downtown Phoenix. Performance Art, such as Pam offers, is as much a part of these music festivals as the bands themselves. I attend M3F, so long as life does not take me elsewhere, because its revenues are donated to charity. The city offers the space, gratis, and volunteers provide security (backed by the Phoenix Police Department) and clean-up. So, my ticket purchase is money I consider well-spent.

The day started with my usual Saturday morning routine: Worldwide Celebration of Life (online) and a visit to Farmer’s Market. Then, there was a monthly meeting of Post 6, American Legion, which strayed far longer than I had hoped it would-as a few people were exercised and long-winded, about a certain issue (which always gets some people exercised and indignant, to the point where they are not listening to one another).

I made it down to M3F, about two hours after I had said I’d get there, but no matter. Pam was having a great time; there were many of her other friends, who live in the Phoenix area, already there and various children, teens and young adults were borrowing her hoops for their own enjoyment. It was quite a mini-concert, all its own.

We went, back and forth, between the three stages-with me toting my blanket and whatever she could not carry of her own sizable load. Since I am not a hooper, I got in some dancing, at times vigourous, as a means to cardiopulmonary exercise. It was a joy just to tap into her at times manic energy and keep up my physical coordination-which has only come about in adulthood. (I was the klutz of klutzes, until about my 21st year-and even afterward, sports like volleyball eluded me.)

Given my current weight reduction plan, finding a solid meal that fits that plan took a bit of discernment, in the Food Court-a collection of food trucks. I was saved by the bowl! A paper bowl of BBQ Sundae-pulled pork, baked beans and cole slaw, took care of the dinner matter.

As the evening progressed, we found that shy young children were captivated by Pam’s antics and energy, and delighted in coming forward to hoop dance with her. Their parents were equally pleased to see the kids having a good time, as the music itself often addressed adult themes, using lyrics and banter more suitable for a bar or club, to the extent it was suitable at all.

All in all, though, M3F is a good affair. I don’t go to many music festivals, but this one is a keeper.

Like Old Home Week

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November 21, 2020-

Saturday Morning Market brings out the best in produce, organic meats and a variety of ready to eat items, from burritos to babaganoush. Then there is the home made ice cream, a pint of which can suffice me for a week.

Some weeks, Farmer’s Market is a spare affair, in terms of how many friends I encounter-besides the vendors. Today, though, I had the good fortune to visit with three or four fellow travelers whom I had not seen in nearly two months. Back in Saugus, we called such as being “like old home week”.

When people of various backgrounds and ideologies can remain civil to one another and converse about matters of mutual interest, without the least bit of rancor, it is always a good day. My friends run the gamut from New Age farmers to a conservative Christian microgreens grower, and all in between. That they are all supportive and solicitous of one another is even sweeter.

This is the real impetus behind my conscious efforts to relate to each person, based on our commonalities, and yes, I do pass over the differences. The former will get us past any challenges. The latter can only raise too many barriers.

It’s good to be in a place of Old Home Week.

Staying My Course

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April 19, 2020-

Sitting in my comfortable abode, I am pondering the various reactions to both COVID-19 and to the policies that have arisen in its wake.  I base my own responses, to the cacophany of  ideas, pleas and outright demands that people are making, of one another and of the powers that be, on my inner voice and on the messages from my spirit guides.

1.  Isolate, or sally forth-  Many say:  Stay put, you’re old and at risk!  Others say:  Don’t let the “guvmint” tell you what to do.  Get out and enjoy life!!   Me:  I have lots to do around Home Base, for now.  I can get out, just a bit, support restaurant friends and the Farmers’  Market, with take out orders, wash my clothes and take a nature walk, now and then.  I will hang close to home, until at least June 1.

2.  Get tested, or lie low-   Mainstream health activists say:  Get tested!  Some add:  What’s so terrible about getting microchipped?  Others say:  Don’t trust Big Pharma-or the Gates Foundation!! Diet and exercise will suffice.  Me:  I will get tested, if the public health experts mandate testing for the whole populace.  I would only get vaccinated IF there was a guarantee that no human body parts were used in the serum, not to mention any heavy metals (Mercury, lead, etc.) .  I will never agree to be Microchipped.  I do have a predominately organic diet, free of GMOs and use only natural supplements, derived from therapeutic grade essential oils.

3.  Open society back up, or extend restrictions-  We basically see that ultraconservatives and people of colour are in rare agreement, in demanding that society open back up, immediately.  Watching white supremacists and Native American activists say the same thing is quite fascinating.  The Other Side says everything from:  “Give this two or three more months” to “Whatever we do, let’s not open schools back up until the vaccine is ready-even if it’s August, 2021.  In fact, let’s keep everything shut down until that day comes.”  This scenario-partly pragmatic, but mostly fear-based, is wishful thinking, and would probably require martial law  in order to be effected.  Me: I go with 1-2 more months, with society gradually opening up, in the meantime.  Schools ought to carefully re-open- one month late, in places, in September, of THIS year.

These are my humble responses, or additions, to the cacophany.

 

 

My Four Tent Posts, and Center

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April 18, 2020-

Today would have been the start of Earth Week, commemorating the 50th anniversary of Earth Day One.  As it happened, I spent quality time (2 hours) watching and listening to young people talking about their concerns regarding Mother Earth.  Few are really blaming all of the mess on the human race, but each made the point that we are not blameless, nor are we powerless, in the face of the climate challenge. Youth groups and the Farmers’ Market are my anchors, in this Center that is my Home Base.

There are also four spiritual posts, one in each direction, that help me stay centered, and which have connections to one another, and to the Center.

East– The Baha’i Faith originated in Iran, spread gradually in all directions, and is now found in nearly every nation on Earth, with its World Centre being in Haifa, Israel. The Teachings of Baha’u’llah have confirmed my lifelong conviction that there is only one Race,the Human Race, and that all religious teachings emanate from One Creator.   This eastern spiritual post has led me to the others.  http://www.bahai.org

South– Elizabeth Peru is based in Adelaide, South Australia.  I was drawn to her website, was introduced to her daily guided meditations and insights into the interaction between Earth and all other elements of the Cosmos.  These meditations and observations both affirm and enrich my own.  The southern spiritual post affirms my connectedness with all living beings.  http://www.elizabethperu.com

West– Earth Rising, based in San Francisco, also focuses on the connectedness of all beings on the planet and in the innate spirituality of mankind.  I was drawn to this site, through other Baha’i friends on social media.  It’s a private group on Facebook, yet I feel abundantly welcome, and affirmed here.  I join in regular digital conferencing of this group and its affiliate, Gaia Calling.  New members are welcomed, through Earth Rising’s Facebook page.  https://www.facebook.com/groups/1039631319395983/

North– Chief Phil Lane is a longtime Baha’i friend and well-deepened Lakota spiritual guide.  His Four Worlds International Institute, in the Vancouver area of British Columbia, is in many ways a North Star.  I have deep genetic memory of being connected to First Nations people, especially those of the eastern woodlands.  Four Worlds has graciously welcomed me into its fold, with regular digital conferencing, for the time being. http://www.fwii.net

In the midst of the current turmoil, I have increasingly felt the need for these four posts, and for my center.  There is, I feel, a new society rising out of all that is happening, and all that remains to happen, in the foreseeable future.  Those who live their truth have little cause for alarm.