Mending Fences

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June 15, 2024- The sun came up, fierce and hot, on this first day of relative time off. There is still the work to be done here at Home Base I, yet nothing will draw me out of state until mid-July, unless I get that call from Massachusetts.

I had the honour of spending a couple of hours sharing stories of life, and thoughts, with someone with whom I thought I had fallen out of favour. No such thing had happened, as it turns out. The Red Cross booth drew passing attention, and one person wanted to have smoke detectors installed. Mostly, though, it was just M T and I, sharing stories of our departed spouses and of those who have won our hearts, more recently.

It was a joy to get back, a short time later, to Farmers Market. My good friend M M told of her own brief time away, which does my heart good, and I offered to help for a few hours each day, clearing the area around her forever home. That offer will stand, for the month or so that I am here, as well as in August, which also will mostly be spent around HB I. The young people who run the Market were glad to have me back, albeit only for few weeks.

After a few hours of rest, it was time to head over to a place from which I had banished myself, for a couple of years now: Synergy of Sedona. S R had sent me an invitation to the Saturday evening portion of their 6th Anniversary celebration, so it was time for self-imposed exile to come to a close. It was an entertaining mix of genres, on the stage: Jazz, folk, spoken word and poetry slam-even a comedic recounting of a lady’s post-divorce westward “drift” , as she put it. The plea for a “divorce shower” was half in jest, half in earnest; and you know, it makes perfect sense. When someone’s life is completely upended, why not a life change registry? I had plenty of help, after Penny passed on, but a divorcee’ ,oftentimes, only encounters the Wall of Shame.

The feeling I got from S R, though we only spoke in greeting, was that whatever it was that transpired, two years ago, had long since flowed into the ocean of bygone and had sunk to the bottom. I may not beat a path to Sedona, all that often, but knowing the door is open does my heart good. Mended fences can stay up.

Camp Notes, Day 8

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June 14, 2024- The little girl ruled the room, as soon as she entered, a smile from ear to ear, dancing with her mother and an aunt, as her surrogate grandfather was rambunctiously playing the keyboards and singing “God Bless The Whole World”, to the tune of “God Bless America”. This was the reason I pulled self together and walked down to the Raven Cafe, this evening, after an exhausting final day of camp. It is seldom, if ever, that I miss a Jonathan Best concert, when I am at Home Base. The man is energizing and affirms every loving soul-like his soul daughter’s child, his former neighbour and me.

Earlier, the campers got themselves together and were out of Bellemont, by 12:30. The kitchen clean-up, including the refrigerator’s sort-out, took another 2 hours. It was done, though, and I was out of the camp by 3. A few hours later, the mail had been picked up and Sportage washed. A Zoom devotional boosted me into the evening and I was okay to go to Raven and focus my attention mostly on a friend who has been suffering, of late.

By 10:30, the energy supply was fading and I bid my younger friend adieu, having drawn out from her a hopeful game plan that involves her connecting with a kindred spirit, in another part of the world, next year. I walked back to Home Base, in peace. Thoughts of my own kindred spirit, in another part of the world, also get me to the end of a day.

Tomorrow will be busy, with some fence-mending, but without the burden of manning a Red Cross shelter, as the problem fire has been put out. I will be glad to man a booth, put away equipment at Farmers Market and reconnect with people from whom I have been estranged, these past two years.

Enjoy the Silence

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February 10, 2024- The young stock clerk asked me if I were a professor, at one of the local universities. I answered in the negative, whereupon she told me a have a doppelganger who teaches aeronautics. Such a small world.

I was awakened, this morning, by a soft spirit voice: ”Open your eyes; open your eyes”. I did so, at 4:44 a.m., and got up, starting my day. The first thought was-“Maybe something has happened, to a loved one.” Nothing happened. I was up, awake, in a silent neighbourhood, with no urgent messages on my phone or on social media. What the spirit voice was trying to convey is still unclear, sixteen hours later.

I ran out of steam, right around the time that a community meeting was halfway finished, and a friend had to nudge me awake. This is due to having run out of Lifelong Vitality Supplements, which seem to be the only thing, other than coffee, that help me stay awake through meetings of any kind. Funny, but when I have to be physically active, there is no fatigue setting in. 

There is a sudden quiet on the volunteer front, as well. Both Farmers Market and the local Red Cross office have decided my services are not needed, at least for a while. Some of this is push back for being enamoured of someone who lives far away-as if that is any of the paid staff’s business, or anyone else’s, for that matter. Lord knows, I haven’t made a big deal of my private life. There are other issues, with Red Cross, but those, too, are superfluous to my effectiveness as a volunteer. Life will go on.

As recently as two years ago, I probably would have had a meltdown over this turn of events. This evening, the choice was to go for a modest workout at Planet Fitness, observe Lunar New Year with an Ubon dinner at an Asian & Hawaiian restaurant, and stock up further at Trader Joe’s. This was sparked by the commentary on an online conference, presented by the Space in One World network, which seeks to establish commonality between people. The speakers made many valid points, with two sticking out as apropos to my present status: 1. It is time to work with people one may not like; 2. When one door, or several, close, it is crucial to look for those that are still open.

The stock clerk, at Trader Joe’s, also made my day.

It’s Snow Barrier

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February 7, 2024- I got up this morning, right at 5 a.m., and checked online messages. Although there was nearly a foot of snow on the ground, at Home Base, the school district where I was to work today had not completed its safety assessment, meaning that schools were still technically going to be in session today. So, I got ready to go in, went through my morning routine-then got a message that school would be delayed two hours. I laid down and drifted off to sleep. When I got up, forty minutes later, the snow was still coming down, and another message informed me that school was canceled for the day.

Reading and replying to a message from my dear friend, across the ocean, and going through some posts online took up part of the morning. I joined the apartment manager’s husband, to shovel the driveway, then went downtown for lunch, as I had not been to County Seat, since their hours had been cut back for the winter. They have an amazing Reuben.  Back at Home Base, after lunch, I finished clearing the upper driveway and the lower parking stalls. 

It has been a quiet afternoon, with the prospect for working tomorrow as scheduled, 50/50. More snow is expected overnight. Landslides have caused havoc in California, from this storm, and in Mindanao, Philippines, from slight tremors, that have nothing to do with precipitation. It is the dry season in the western Pacific.

The last note I got today was from the Farmers Market staff, giving me three weeks off, as new workers are being trained in the whole operation, which includes Breakdown. Other things are popping up, to take up the slack, so it all works out.

The Trends of ’23

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December 31, 2023- The last day of the Gregorian calendar year brought my late parents-in-law together in matrimony, in 1948. That union brought Penny into this world, led me to the Baha’i Faith, made possible our marriage and the birth of our son, who has grown into a strong, well-grounded man. It has made possible my faith-based travels and activities here at Home Base. Although she is also gone now, Penny’s spirit and those of my other departed loved ones guide me to a higher level of action.

Nearly forty-three years after embracing the Teachings of Baha’u’llah, I was honoured to host a Spiritual Feast, last night, at which those present engaged in a fulsome consultation, which is the core purpose, along with devotions and fellowship, of the event. It was one of the best consultations in which I’ve ever participated. It signified the spirit of this past year, which was all about internal reflection and personal refinement.

Now, I look back at these past twelve months, and the overall trends and themes of its passage. Essentially, taking an attitude of self-confidence, I accepted a managerial role with the Red Cross, and thanks to a fine team, was able to help over eighty evacuees during a flood response, in Santa Cruz County, CA, in April. Working through those challenges, and overcoming hostility from a local business owner, led to what was, overall, a successful relief effort. I feel confident that I could replicate this effort, should the need arise again.

In July, a simple visit to a long-isolated fellow Baha’i brought her back into activity in her community. This, in turn, seems to be regenerating that community’s activities, as well as her own once-flagging self-confidence. It is what we can do for one another, and will result in a much stronger human race, “one brick at a time”. 

Here in Home Base 1, encouraging young people in their efforts has been a key focus of time and energy. Whether in classrooms, at the Farmers Market or in private conversations with a single mother, who is like a daughter to me, and taking a stand on her behalf, the fostering of rising generations has been probably the most rewarding of efforts. Being able to rise above, and resolve, other instances in which miscommunication has resulted in estrangement, has also been a reward of this past year.

My mother’s milestone birthday, this past September, while reminding me of the difficulty I have in communicating with her, long distance, also reflected the deeper bond between us, which transcends face-to-face meetings. She is still one of the seminal influences on my life.

The first extended travel outside the United States, in nearly ten years, brought some wondrous people into my life-one in particular. My Philippines experience has also imparted the confidence that I lacked, when visiting Europe in 2014, and has strengthened my voice, for what lies ahead-both on the return to that country, in September and visits to six other nations, across another ocean, later that month and nearly to November. That these are all Faith-based journeys does not negate my sense of personal responsibility, in their execution. In fact, living the Baha’i life entails, in the words of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, “walking the mystical path with practical feet.”

So does 2023 enter the realm of history, having already done so,in nearly half the world, and ready to do so, within the next thirteen hours, across the rest of Planet Earth. I am grateful for the personal lessons it has brought, am chastened by the physical and emotional destruction that nationalism, greed and fear have wrought, both in the U.S. and across over a dozen countries around the world and I am ready to work, as hard as necessary, to bring about a lasting peace, wherever 2024 takes me.

The Small Market

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December 30, 2023- One of my Saturday staples, when here in Home Base I, is helping to break down the apparati at Farmers Market. It was a smaller affair today, and the staff was smaller as well. I was the sole break down crew member on site, so the management helped with taking down tents and folding the small tables and chairs. For the first time in memory, the market was arranged in a circle, and it was like musical stalls-vendors were placed in areas different from their usual spots. 

Most staff and vendors are happy to see me, knowing that the market is being secured. One or two are transactional, in their relationships with us, fussing and fuming if we don’t buy from them. It has become a personal issue with at least one vendor, so I am careful when around that person. Somehow, I won’t be surprised to see that vendor go.

Small minds, though, are fewer and fewer in my world-even as that world expands. A person with whom I had difficulty, several weeks ago, attended a meeting today, and was civil. I chalk that up to the power of both prayer and patience. I shut very few doors for good-and one relatively minor disagreement is not grounds for such a thing.

On the cusp of what looks to be an exceptionally active year, I find that what I view as Home Base actually fits several places. HB is a space where I can safely conduct my regular daily activities, communicate with friends and family, have reliable channels for that communication, and feel that I fully belong in the community. Home Base 1 will be Prescott, at least for the foreseeable future. HB 2 is Grapevine, as my little family is there. HB 3 is southeast Pennsylvania, with three family households and two longtime friends living less than an hour apart.  HB 4 is Massachusetts’ North Shore, with Mom living there and two siblings not far away. HB 5 is Greater Manila, with newly made friends a very strong draw. HB 6 is San Diego, where I can get an ocean “fix” and be re-energized, in the communities of Ocean Beach and Little Italy.

Much of the strength I feel, going forward, comes from what has come my way, in the past twelve months. Recap will be in the next post.

Rain and Heartshine

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December 23, 2023- Whilst drumming under a canopy, last night, our little circle felt drips, then trickles and after a bit, the maintenance volunteer announced that water was pooling on the canopy. Mindful of the safety hazard, as well as the discomfort of being showered, we moved under the wooden-roofed porch of the small ”omnivore’s” restaurant, at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch. (The other eatery here is a vegan establishment.) I thought of the old Three Dog Night song, “Never Been to Spain”, written by Hoyt Axton,and added my own lyric to its musing: ”Well, I’ve never been to Woodstock, but I’m here at Kelly’s Cottage…”

Drum and Didge circle, “Reconnecting the Soul”, at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson

Some of us then adjourned to the basement of the Main House, for a Cacao Ceremony, which I described in the last post. Here is a photo of that scene.

“(Hu)Man Cave”, Main House at Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson

I turned in, upstairs in Main House, making a little sleeping space for myself, behind a couch in the living room. The lights stayed on, as a gamer was in his element, on the couch, and the vegan chef was prepping his breakfast fare. Being me means going with the flow, so with a blanket covering head to toe, I drifted off.

This morning came, quietly, as non-work mornings do. I found that the ranch is close to the foot of South Mountain, Phoenix’s great southern boundary of old. (It’s been circumvented, and surrounded, by the spreading community), still retaining its majesty.

South Mountain, from Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson
South Mountain, from Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, Tolleson
Kelly’s Cottage Ranch, in daylight.

After helping the “Man Cave” ( I call it Human Cave.) crew move some furniture around, I headed back up to Prescott, so as to stop in at Zeke’s, for an early lunch and to wish the ladies a Merry Christmas. Then, it was over to Farmers Market, for quick grocery shopping and helping to put the tents, weights and furniture away. Lots of hugs came today, including from a couple I hadn’t seen in over a year. I found out why they had been distant: Child # 6 was in Mama’s arms, serene and already cautious about strangers-at four months. Wishing one and all a Merry Christmas, we finished breakdown at 2:10, and I promised to be back for the New Year’s Eve day market.

This evening was spent at Rafter Eleven, listening to renditions of several meaningful tunes, including back-to-back love songs- Lonestar’s “Baby, I’m Amazed by You” and Garth Brooks’ “The Dance”. The first reflects how I feel towards someone now and the second, always evocative of Penny and our time together. Of course, back when the first song was released, I was definitely amazed by her. It was 1999, and we had every reason to think our time together had years to go. Once the music was done, I wished Dawn, her daughters and the baristas Merry Christmas, and a safe holiday week and back to Home Base it was.

It’s foggy tonight, and very dark. Coming out of a store, after picking up my last holiday gift, it took a while to find my car, in the fog and darkness. The Google Maps application was no help, just going around in a circle-upon which the spirits took over , and guided me to Sportage, in seconds flat. All ends well with their assistance.

No Time to Be Idle

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December 2, 2023- It was disconcerting to get news of an earthquake, off the Philippine island of Mindanao, when I arrived back at HB, from a long day of service activities and visits with friends. There are one or two people for whom I care deeply, who are originally from Mindanao, the southernmost large island of the archipelago, and who now live in the Manila area. Hopefully, their family members, and everyone else, are safe.

I admit to a certain restlessness of spirit, mainly because as I look about me, there is so much that needs doing. At Farmers Market, this afternoon, two market administrators and the compost project worker, all friends of mine, were left to break down the apparati, at closing. I was able to free them of this, so they could do their primary tasks. I give thanks to the Creator, for continued strength-for as long as that strength lasts, and I can continue to be physically -as well as mentally,useful.

It was also a good day for visiting-one of my best friends, who has a market stall; the Slow Food-Prescott group, for part of a planning session, and sharing a box of Medjool dates that I had been given; and another friend, whose small restaurant, Rafter Eleven, has been one of the music venues I frequent on Friday or Saturday evenings.


Now I can wind down, and chalk the day up as successful.

Beeswax Pull and The Flower Moon

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November 19, 2023- The beeswax cone did what it was supposed to do, gently cleanse my ears, with a pulling effect. It pretty much confirmed today’s gentler tone-compared to yesterday’s angry intensity. I had more small tasks to do-checking in on senior friends at Post 6 (most are well), attending a Baha’i study session (respectful, but thorough, examination of a letter from the Universal House of Justice), picking up the Farmers Market order that I missed yesterday, this beeswax cleanse and a visit to a Holiday Market in Prescott Valley, to get gifts for Aram and Yunhee.

Now it’s almost time to go view “Killers of the Flower Moon”-an acclaimed depiction of modern day exploitation of resources on First Nations lands. I will have some comments on the film, in the next post. I will say, ahead of time, that the part of the human being that often is killed first is the spirit. Once that happens, it takes a generation or two to recover, if justice is truly exercised.

That brings me to this morning. Last night, I went to bed, questioning my place in this community. In the light of day, though, and after talking with a few friends, my message to those who don’t like my being here- some of whom may read this- is:

I have a place here. It is not defined by you, and no matter who you may try to turn against me, it will not end well. There are many who know my heart, which you do not. They know I have the best interests of children, teens and the disadvantaged always front and center. They know it has been this way, for 42 years. They know I am committed, I will respect your gentle friends, whom I met last night, and show them honour. I will do the same for you, even if you strike back in anger.

So, though you are popular, active in social justice causes and will be in the same spaces as I am, quite a bit- know that I am not going anywhere. We might as well get along; but if not, Prescott will remain my home-until I am needed elsewhere.

The Sandbox

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November 18, 2023- So often, the most difficult person is who needs love the most.

When I was a child, my siblings and I had a fine sandbox, with plenty of quality, durable playthings. We shared it with everyone in the neighbourhood. No one was excluded. I knew what it felt like to be shoved to the sidelines, and left out. I was determined to not be that kind of person, in my own dealings with others.

Today,a small team of us went about a city that is 2 1/2 hours west of here, and installed smoke detectors in homes of those who requested them. Fifteen households were visited; fourteen of those who requested the implements were grateful. One household was not-for reasons that are best left unsaid. Chances are, the smoke detectors will end up save the life of our detractor. The most difficult person needs love the most.

This evening, I pulled myself together and went to the concert of a dear friend, at a favourite venue. Someone I know, and fairly trust, as an acquaintance, came in and asked to sit at my table. I was glad to see this person, who is fairly popular and influential in town. After a time, I started to feel discomfort, almost as if I didn’t belong in the situation. I focused on my friends’ music and danced about a bit. The most difficult person needs love the most-but in this case, I am not at all certain that my support and caring would be either welcome or accepted. By the end of the evening, and for the first time since I moved to Prescott, in fact, I feel like my status in the community is very much in jeopardy-and I will have to step back for a while. Red Cross, the Farmers Market (to some extent) and Slow Food are safe spaces-but the places I have visited and treasured, like the venue where my friends performed tonight, don’t feel so safe right now.

The most difficult people need love the most, but they can do a lot of damage along the way-especially when they wield a lot of influence. I can only hang on, the best I can.