Tag Archives: graveside remembrance

Beaver Moon

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

November 14, 2024- The wind whipped the clouds around, but there was the moon, nearing full, at the time of year when beavers start storing food in their lodges, for winter sustenance. Thus, one day early, a group held an online meditation about the Beaver Moon. The meditation follows a similar pattern, month to month.

A treasure vase one that is buried in places of significance, around the world. Treasure vases have been interred in locales such as The Cloisters, in New York City; Livermore Laboratories in Berkeley; Masai Mara, outside Nairobi and Uluru, in the Outback of Australia’s Northern Territory. Over 100 such vases have been interred, and each is mentioned in the circle. Then a foot to crown meditation, involving deep breathing and focus, takes place among those assembled.

The time chosen for this month’s event was 10 a.m., PST. By then, I was finishing placing honorifics of another sort in the ground. Three bunches of silk flowers now help mark the grave of Michele Smith, a Baha’i friend of thirty-five years. After dropping off a few other gifts at her daughter’s house, I headed back towards Home Base, from Carson City.

The drive back was uneventful. The moon, though, kept watch on me-as evening gathered. I was the sole customer at Cosmic Diner, Amargosa Valley, NV, as a young lady served a fairly good fried chicken sandwich and raspberry ice tea, with the same sense of honour as if she were working a dining room at Bellagio. I like that about rural Nevadans. Where they are is plenty good enough.

I make one stop to top off gas going north, in Las Vegas and another stop going south. Most service stations have rest rooms. The Rebel Arco on west Craig Blvd does not. Plan ahead. It was okay, as there is a Jack in the Box next door. End of TMI.

At the end of Beaver Moon’s watch, I found it necessary to drive through the back streets of Ash Fork, which I had not previously done. The occasion was the closure of the exit ramp for U.S. 89 south. So, I found that there were many more houses in the little town than I had realized. Every locale has its wonders.

Beaver Moon will be full tomorrow night, so I will walk to the Raven Cafe after a Zoom devotional, bathing in its light. Life is good, whether here or abroad.

Headwinds

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 13, 2024, Carson City- It was quite blustery, throughout the day, though the winds were temporarily lighter, as three of us prayed at Michele Smith’s grave site and placed a few items at the otherwise as yet unmarked resting place. ( I will place another item or two there, tomorrow morning, and the family will put a tombstone up, in due time.)

Afterwards, we went to one of their favourites, and mine: LA Bakery. While enjoying a great brunch, Red (the family members) and Purple (yours truly) shared what we appreciate about those on the right-hand side of the fence, while agreeing to disagree about what is to be appreciated about their opposite numbers. I can see excesses on both sides, but I also see that the differences between those two sides are exacerbated by the wire pullers, who are the only ones standing to gain from division. These are the latter-day Aeoluses, generating the headwinds that have come from focusing on the negative elements of both right and left.

Both lies being told about high-profile figures, and manufactured issues, are coming from dubious sources. The whole bathroom issue is best handled by the establishment of unisex rest rooms-themselves an outgrowth of the need for opposite sex caretakers of disabled adults to be able to take their loved ones and charges into a toilet, without annoying other men and women. (I was on the ground level on that issue, when needing to get my late wife in and out of rest rooms, in the 2000s.) The issue of biological males and, to a lesser extent, females competing on sports played by members of their transitioned sex could conceivably be handled by establishing leagues and conferences specifically for transgendered people. (No, it is NOT the same as the Negro Leagues of the first half of the Twentieth Century.) There are probably enough transgendered adults to make that doable.

The bar of social behaviour could stand to be raised. Profanity is a choice. It is not necessary, and certainly not enjoyable, to be subjected to cussing in music, on movies and cable television programs, almost on a continuous basis. Dumbing down of language reflects and exacerbates lowered expectations about thought and behaviour. Who benefits from such? Why, it is the wire-pulling class. These also are the prime beneficiaries of the class discrimination that so often is mirrored by racism and misogyny. Notice how deft the self-styled elites have been at tarnishing the reputations of genuinely heroic figures, and at pointing out to struggling lower and middle class figures just how awful the “other side” is.

The only real “them and us” are those who are honestly just trying to get a leg up in the world (both left and right,and everyone in between) versus those who want to keep the “great unwashed” in their places. This dichotomy is beginning to generate real headwinds. Expect them to gain in velocity and strength, the more the controllers try to keep the status quo.

Transitions

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Posted by on in Family, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

March 5, 2021, Phoenix- She took her last breath, ten years ago this morning. She was still warm to the touch, as I walked to the side of her bed, having arrived three minutes too late for a real-time goodbye. Yet, when I had awakened, an hour before, in our home of eight years, the bedroom we had shared was filled with a very heavy energy, the likes of which I have not experienced before or since. At the hospice site, our son and I were greeted by an upwardly swirling of dust, on an otherwise still morning.

Today, I returned to the gravesite I have visited so many times, this past decade. This time, I sat for the better part of an hour, praying and meditating. There was a couple looking for a loved one’s grave, which turned out to be on the other side of the cemetery. Otherwise, I was in solitude with the spirit of my spouse of twenty-nine years.

Penny has long since transitioned to a better place. I am still in transition to being a better person. In this past ten years, I have broken trust three times, been called out for it, almost immediately and learned to do better. I have had my integrity, with regards to how I view women, called into question and after initially taking umbrage at the criticism, done a deep dive into exactly how change was in order. It has been well worth the soul search. While I am still peripatetic at my core, being part of a community is more essential to me, than it had been in years past.

I had a groundswell of support, during the five months after Penny’s transition. It was ironic that some of those who were warm with their words, immediately afterward, were later so vicious in their attacks. They have long since vanished from my life. Family members are there, when I need them, and I, when they need me, Mostly, though, the contacts are short and sweet-and their lives don’t intertwine with mine so much any more. It is partly physical distance; partly the fullness of each others’ lives-and it may well change, as time goes on and disease abates. It is my core of friends, who also ebb and flow with their presence, who keep me honest and forging onward.

Today ends one decade of living transition and begins another. I wonder, as to how it might feel to be an octogenarian, in 2031. In the meantime, there is much on which to work and life from which to learn.