Tag Archives: Maturity

The Road to Diamond, Day 38: Cycles

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

January 5, 2025- I have listened to two very different takes on this calendar year. The one, of which I wrote yesterday, was made with a hokey presentation but came across as very hopeful, though it involved other galaxies and beings of questionable status. The second, made by a cosmic advisor who is very much grounded in reality, pointed out that this is a year of simultaneous endings of old relationships and processes, and beginnings of new ones. 2024 was certainly a dress rehearsal for that, with the passing of my mother and several longtime friends. The speaker this morning said to remain grounded in a strong soulship, and not to be depressed or downhearted by any rapid changes in relationships, even if they are with those dearly loved. Other relationships and processes will replace those that end. Most importantly, she said it was never necessary to channel energy externally. All the strength one needs is within.

I reflected on my life up to now, not in a rigid decade-by-decade manner, but in terms of actual cycles. 1950-1964 was a time of firsts, and of thinking that I didn’t deserve a whole lot. So, when I did get nice things, I used them for a short time, then set them aside, except my books and records. Bicycles, weight sets, even a junior chemistry set, all were used just a bit, then set aside in the closet or downstairs, or in the case of the bikes-given to my siblings. I didn’t think I deserved friends, and so spent much time alone. It wasn’t until that became counterproductive, in eighth grade, that I started to rethink the matter.

1964-1968, the high school years, was a time of discovering the love I had for other people. Though I still regarded myself as unworthy (a sense that would be my shadow until fairly recently), grades were kept up, school events like dances drew me out and I worked at a job or two, with minimal success.

1969-1980 was a period of self-loathing. I functioned, but just barely, serving in a position of fair responsibility in the U.S. Army; earning Associate and Bachelor Degrees, being in the middle of my class in each; and working at both teaching and a smattering of part-time jobs, while still not exactly excelling at any of them.

1981-1997 was a high water mark. I earned a Master’s Degree, met and married my first true love, sired and raised a child, and actually made a difference in my professional work. Much of this came about because I embraced the Baha’i Faith, and in turn, embraced sobriety. The self-loathing was still there, but kept under wraps.

1998-2013 found me floundering again. My beloved was suffering and in declining health, and I was facing my own demons, though maintaining sobriety, helping our son navigate adolescence and fend off those who wanted to hurt him, and acting as my wife’s caretaker. Jobs came and went, but substitute teaching was my saving grace, and kept us with food on the table and a roof over our heads. For two years after Penny died, my struggles continued, until I finally began to regard myself as worthy of true self-respect.

2014-2024 has been another period of rising. I have rediscovered our country and the world, established genuine friendships and gained the respect of those who knew me when. Public service, mostly volunteer work, has helped me feel like a worthy part of a community. Most importantly, though, my self-loathing is gone. In maturity, I have faced down five people who tried to take away my self-esteem and embraced those who truly have my best interests at heart.

This year finds me at a crossroads. Someone dear to me may, or may not, be part of my future. She has her own path to follow. Either way, I am in a good place and am ready for whatever comes-continuity or seismic change. Never again will I blame myself, or anyone else, for what comes to pass. Everyone is on a journey all their own, and each deserves support from the others.

I briefly considered including Frank Sinatra’s song, “Cycles”, with this post. It doesn’t quite sum up my mood though. Instead, here’s Bruce Springsteen’s “The Rising”.

Misogyny

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 17, 2024- I watched the first episode of “Lioness” this evening. It is a spy thriller, centered on women secret agents and fighters, in a Middle Eastern backdrop. Each of the women has a male advocate, if not a lover. They just don’t really need those men, day to day. One of the central characters comes to the Lioness program by way of escaping from a gang of disaffected, misogynistic men.

I thought back to how I was raised-to be a gentleman (by my father), countered by male peers who were alternately respectful of our mothers, sisters, grandmothers and aunts, while carrying a veneer of seeing other girls and women as means to an end. It was the stuff of adolescence, certainly, but subliminally was carried forward into our group psyches.

My wife became my equal, my partner, by dint of her sheer intellect and tough personality. Penny grew to become nobody’s fool. I became someone who did not need a fool. As the first true love of my maturity grew into a fully independent woman, so I began to grow into a fully independent man. From there, we both became interdependent.

In the years immediately following her passing, I found the sticky residue of my adolescence clinging to my psyche. As sheer will power and prayer had helped me shed alcohol dependency, thirty years earlier, so did they help me shed the stench of misogyny that was trying to get out. I let it out, along with the lack of self-esteem that is behind all such negative dust. True maturity had been reached.

Young men, around the world, face challenges to their self-concept that have historically been faced by posturing, adopting a dominant position towards their female peers and subscribing to a false sense of entitlement. This is the ethos of The Pack. There is an alpha male, but his “true strength” is only evident when the rest of the peer group is present, for reinforcement. The public face of misogyny is the Incel (“involuntary celibate”), who takes the stance that abstinence from sex is being forced on him by a conspiracy of women and other men.

In truth, though, focusing on one’s sexuality is dealing with only the outer trappings of insecurity. Procreation has an important place in the order of society, but it is only a place. A person, male or female, who has been raised to truly value self, who is focused on his/her totality: Intellect, variety of interests, physical stamina, dreams and goals, social skills, spirituality-will be more likely to know success, to be resilient in the face of challenges and less likely to blame others when things go wrong.

These are things I have come to fully realize, over the past fourteen years.

Reiterations

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

December 12, 2023- My horoscope for today says I will reveal my true colours. Truth be known, I’ve been doing that for some time. Historically, I am the world’s worst liar. So, even though I have said a lot of this before, “Double-Twelfth” is a good day for reiteration, to begin wrapping up the cosmic year that started with “Double-First”, a year of introspection and casting out remaining demons, for many. Ahead is a year of action, of putting thoughts into observable energy.

I have been active this year, certainly, and having mentioned those events and processes elsewhere, let me say that next year-the next two years, at least, will see even more of this. After some thought and comparison of costs and routes, yesterday, I am revising my route to an area that is on the itinerary for next Fall ( I will talk about the location on this platform, when it is prudent), to be prefaced by a two-week stop in the Philippines. Unless I hear from friends in Phil that this is not advisable or necessary, that is the plan.

My true colours just reflect love. What I feel for my angel in the spirit realm will never fade. Last week, I got a message from her, that my feelings for a woman now are perfectly acceptable before the Divine-and that I should treat that lady like a queen. It is true that love is the basis for all life-so the colour of love is my most basic hue.

I’ve been tripped up by grief and rebounding, especially for a few years after Penny’s passing. I’ve been hobbled by deep-seated attitudes and fears about myself, that have been brought to the surface and let flow out. Baha’u’llah wrote that love should not blindly lead to error. My thought is that such “love” is not the true kind. Now, in maturity, I see myself as a worthwhile human being-and get a lot of affirmation from those around me, in real time and online. Now, in maturity, I am no longer anxious or overbearing about expressing myself.

That brings up the matter of anxiety in general, and of the need for giving others room to work out their issues-and live their lives. My friends, especially my most beloved, deserve time and space to take care of their personal work. My son, and those I love as if they were my own children-and grandchildren, deserve the confidence and trust that I place in them, to show just how they will move forward. What I offer one and all is that confidence and trust. If you fall down, brush yourself off and go forward-keeping the lesson learned in mind. If you need a hug, it’s here. I will not, though, stand idly by and let you wallow. We are all better than that.

Ahead is a year of building-of a stronger Faith community, of reassurance for members of an extended family (and thus two stops in Carson City, next July) and of another extended family member further north (and thus a stop in Victoria, the same month), of fulfillment of promises both recent and of longer-standing, and of increasing my level of self-confidence-though not to the level of callousness or arrogance.

It’s time to go and tie up a couple of small loose ends-every day has a few such matters. All happiness on “Double Twelfth”, my friends.

A Child Is A Child

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Posted by on in Assistance, children, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Education, Family, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 19, 2021- I have friends and family, on both sides of the Chasm, when it comes to discussions of race. Just so we’re clear, I am dead set against ANY policy or action that limits or prevents a person from following his/her life plan-so long as that plan does not itself involve limiting or preventing another person from following theirs.

It started, in a sense, with Emmett Till. When he was killed, I was four. An older cousin saw the news on TV and commented: “That is just plain SICK!” I asked what was sick and he told me that a kid, not much older than he, was killed by some crazy people in a place called Mississippi. I knew that name, because the older girls in the neighbourhood spelled it out while jumping rope. It bothered me, from that time on, that adults would kill a child.

As time went on, I witnessed and experienced all types of adult behaviour towards children-mostly good, but some very wicked things as well. I was, thankfully, never beaten or abused-but I knew plenty of boys and girls who were.

Growing up in a mostly White town, I saw and heard people of all ages-including some of my mates, express hostility towards people of other racial groups. In fairness, they were just as caustic towards people of other European ethnicities. I never felt such animosity towards anyone, but as the saying goes, “You stand in chalk, you inhale the dust.” It took time in the Army and frank discussions with people of other backgrounds, in which I chose to listen more than talk, for me to truly understand their experiences.

It is the duty of adults to teach teens in the ways of maturity. Maturity, as my father explained to me, means not rushing furiously into a situation, unprepared and likely overmatched. Now, we see what happens when the reverse is true. Kyle Rittenhouse went into battle, in his own mind, against an imagined foe that he barely understood, and of whose diversity he was completely ignorant. Someone in his life owed him a hand of restraint- not a violent hand, but a firm one.

Like many people in adolescence, he seemed to think he was capable of rising to the occasion and fending off those who had trouble in mind. Ironically, it was not the thugs on the periphery of the social justice movement whom he faced down, that awful night. It was three grown men, who likely fancied themselves allies of that movement, coming at him, a boy of 17.

I question how he was able to bring an AR15 with him, when the minimum age for BUYING such a weapon is 18. Yet, there it was, in his hands, after who knows how much training and practice he had been given in its use. Even people in the military, who are, with rare exceptions, 18 and over, have to have a minimum of eight weeks of training in the handling, use and maintenance of firearms, especially automatic weapons. Kyle should not have been there alone. Adults should have been with him, and then as a force of restraint.

There is, additionally, the research into the maturation of the human brain. The brain is not completely formed until the age of 25, if then. I look back on myself, in my teens and twenties, and sometimes shudder that I am still alive- my parents’ best efforts to raise me aside.

We are, however, in a crisis of adulthood when, once again, people at the street level are left trying to explain to the wider society why People of Colour are frustrated and angry-while not exactly hearing the voices of reason from those above them, in the halls of power. We are in a crisis of adulthood when a child is castigated in the court of public opinion, publicly coddled by a sitting judge and probably just as confused as he was on that awful night. We are in a crisis of adulthood when the voices of the nation’s leadership use vitriol, rather than step back, breathe deeply and foster healing. We are in a crisis of adulthood, when we just go back to the same sides, across the Chasm, that led us here in the first place.

A good-hearted, gentle family member remarked this evening that she just wants to see love for everyone. She is a conservative Christian. I am a gadfly, who leans progressive, in most matters. My sentiments, though, are the same.

A child is a child; raise him (her)!

Playfulness

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Education, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving

September 2, 2021- The rambunctious teen ran, full tilt, into a locker. He winced, just a little, and momentarily looked puzzled: “Wow, that hurt!” My response: “Ya think?” He walked towards the classroom door, as I sized up both him and the locker for any indicators of damage. As there was none, I had him take his seat and thirty-two of us slowly, but earnestly, started class.

High School freshmen can be a lot like toddlers in pre-school, trying out several advanced roles, whilst not entirely wanting to give up their immature selves. College freshmen often mimic the same behaviours. For many, this doesn’t last very long, especially as the reality that being able to participate in sports or other interests depends on keeping grades up or that love interests may well have the expectation of a higher level of maturity.

There are always the goofs, though, and walking them through the transitional phase is often dependent on near magic. I have met some of these same types, a few years down the road. Those whose next encounter with me didn’t involve them being a corpse at a funeral, or an inmate at the State Prison, had found their footing-and even if they still had their rowdy side-jumping out of airplanes or bungee jumping, they also had a sense of responsibility.

Playfulness hasn’t entirely left me. Snarky bantering happens all the time. So does lively dancing or just being silly around younger children. Somehow, though, I don’t quite see myself testing a metal locker’s tensile strength as part of my journey of exploration.

What It Usually Means

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Posted by on in collaborating, Inspiration, Personal Values, Poetry, Social

April 3, 32021-

Most times, a hug is a hug-and nothing more. A handshake is a handshake, no more and no less. A warm smile is not especially an invitation, but more an expression of appreciation. A gentle touch is a reassurance of caring. Eye contact, likewise, means “I see you. You matter to me”.

Interest in your day means there is a connection. It is not an invitation to anything more. Expressing interest in doing things together is not an open door to doing just anything at all.

A friendship between mature adults is devoid of assumptions, of unilateral expectations and wishful thinking. It is full of plans made together, of honest conversation, of trusting disclosures, knowing that what is shared is respected, and kept in confidence.

These facets of my friendships, with woman and man alike steer me gently into that good night and its subsequent bright day.

What is Cherished?

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

May 18, 2020-

This post is inspired by Eugenia’s series of prompts: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/60360547/posts/2711101856

I cherish the actions of the heart, above all.

Those efforts that do not seek to elevate one above all others,

but which seek to raise all boats.

I cherish family,

both near biological.

and far extended,

the family of the bloodline

and that of the heart.

I cherish childhood,

that which is given us,

in the first two decades,

or so, of life,

and that which is retained

in spirit, even as the body

and mind take on the

trappings of age and maturity.

I cherish the beauty that

surrounds us,

both the glimmerings

of nature, by day and by night,

and the images conjured

by the mind.

Let all be adored,

which keeps us

and propels us forward.

Being 64

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Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

November 28, 2014, San Diego-  I woke today, looked in the mirror and lo & behold:  There was a face that looked every bit of sixty-four.  I’ve always regarded looking one’s age as a sign of a life well-lived.  Acting one’s age, that’s another matter.  After all, men old enough to be my father have made no bones about going after young women.  That’s not my style, though.  I had a fine marriage, have a son who is contemporary with the aforementioned ladies and besides, I enjoy the company of people of all ages, as friends, at this stage of my life.  Maturity, for sixty-somethings and older, is a choice.

I’ve thought a fair amount about privilege.  In some ways, I enjoy it;  I don’t have to worry about being pulled over by police, just because of the type of vehicle I’m driving.  I can go anywhere I can afford to go. I am not followed around by store security, even when I’m “dressed down”.  No one asks me my business, when I’m in a public place. I could, conceivably, be hassled by people, when in some parts of Hawai’i , or Mexico or any number of Native American communities.  So far, though, that hasn’t happened.  I was treated just fine in the Honolulu area, have visited Yaqui, Tohono O’Odham, Navajo and Hopi communities, with no unpleasant events and drove  a friend to Mexico a few years ago, without any sense of imminent danger.

What I don’t enjoy, though, is seeing people who are just trying to get from A to B, being hassled.  I also don’t like seeing miscreants try to poke holes through civility, by creating a scenario of “racism”.  Every person should obey the law, not take what isn’t his/hers and refrain from bullying people who are trying to make an honest living.  Every person is also entitled to enjoy the fruits of their labours, earn a decent living wage and not have to sneak across borders to do so.  There is a lot, an immense amount of work to be done in that regard.

I got a lot done this past year, and will get more accomplished in the year ahead. (Details in next post).  For today, though, I am content to head up to La Jolla, hopefully see some marine mammals, hike a bit at Torrey Pines and kick back this evening with a Netflix film at my son’s apartment.  Sixty-four is a fine age to be.