A Queen and Her Precipice


February 5, 2022– It’s been a busy day, with a service project and two meetings to keep me honest, until mid-afternoon. This is all part of what Elizabeth Peru talks about, when discussing keeping the soul relevant and staying connected to the Oneness. Besides, I do things that I enjoy.

It is also bittersweet, as the morning paper brought an essay on Cheslie Kryst. The suicide of any young, highly intelligent, sassy, multi-talented and comely human being is a disaster, at both a deeply personal and a profoundly social level. I looked at the images of Cheslie and could only think, “God, I wish I had known her, could have intuited something was wrong and reached out. ” If I have been guilty of overkill in any area, it has been of a near obsession with the well-being of the younger generations.

Yet, I leave my son to forge his own destiny, while dropping everything when he calls. The thing is, he knows he CAN CALL, day or night, and I will drop everything else. I devote snippets of time, here and there, to those in my circle of friends, of all ages, whose issues are chronic, even seemingly intractable, with the understanding that I will get over to see them or at least talk with them, when I can. The bottom line is that each one continues to matter, and none need consign themselves to the scrap heap.

Cheslie Kryst had family who loved her dearly; friends and mentors who guided her, the best they knew how to guide. She had a loving group of well-wishers, who cheered her on, throughout her wonderful moments of triumph. There was also a chorus of dementors, who hounded her to end her life, and in that final, terrible end moment of dejection, that last group forced her hand.

Simply put, no one deserves the fate wished on them, by those whose own lives are miserable and who lack the courage to set those wrecked houses in order. No one deserves to feel so alone, even in the dark of night or early morning. If you read this, know that, in a moment of despair, you may reach out and I will find a way to send out a message of hope-that you may back away from that ledge of doom.

“I’m Up Here”


March 9, 2020-

The above statement is often made by a woman who is reacting, in a gently upbraiding manner, to having a man (or boy) focusing his attention on her torso.  I haven’t had that sort of correction being offered me, up to now, though it’s been a self-teaching process, over the years, to direct my attention to a person’s eyes, as we are engaged in conversation.  My autism had me looking down, anyway, so I recognize the imperative of eye contact- if for no other reason than to establish trust.  Besides, it takes three seconds to ascertain if someone is physically attractive; there’s no reason to stare.

It seems to be working, especially these past fifteen years, and definitely of late.  The ubiquity of  those who are either wearing tight clothing, or are “scantily clad” is something I’ve come to regard as mostly for the person’s comfort.  I find Millennial and Generation Z females both more modest in their interpersonal behaviour and more assertive with regard to their rights in the public sphere, than many of my generation were at the same age.  That may not be everyone else’s conclusion, but it’s what I see, in the course of my work, in my travels and at musical gatherings, such as the one I attended yesterday.  Then again, there is the fact that my relationship to the rising generations is one of mentoring, affirmation and overall support.

I like to engage people “up here”.

One, Two, Three, Four- The Plans


January 22, 2018, Prescott-

Every so often, I come out with details of my plans for this or that.  One year (day, month) at a time, I have been advised.  That makes sense for anyone my age, on up.  So my plans for this year, 2018, ought to be a foundation for what comes next.

This year, I will work, diligently, both at my day job- which will see an uptick in the number of students we have, come August, and at my financial effort, which is, admittedly, still in its fledgling state ( I can hear the Boo Birds, now- “There he goes again!”), but is being pursued, carefully, with a lot of expert support.  This will bring me to San Diego, the fourth weekend in March, for a mentoring conference.  Prior to that, I will have had nearly 60 hours of training and mentoring calls.  I have detailed other travel plans, in a previous post, and those still stand for next month, and for May-June.  An uptick in income would also allow me to join other mentoring events.

That covers the number one.  “Two” takes in 2019.  Next year marks the Bicentenary of the Birth of al-Bab, the immediate predecessor of Baha’u’llah, and His Herald.  This event, marked in late October, will be the overarching event of the year, for me and for millions of others.  My summer travels will bring me back to the Pacific Northwest, and southeast Alaska.  My work and financial ventures will continue apace. Then, too, who knows what the Universe will add on to all that?

“Three” brings us to 2020.  As I turn 70, in November of that year, its March will see my final physical Fast, under Baha’i law.  The Fast will have spiritual import for me, the rest of my life, but abstaining from food and beverages will not apply, once I reach the age of seventy.   I hope to be at, or past, my financial goals by New Year’s Day of that year.  Travel wise, I am looking at a Trans-Canada (BC to Newfoundland) road trip, in June and July.

“Four” means 2021.  This year will mark the Centenary of the Passing of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, Baha’u’llah’s eldest son and His Successor, as Head of the Baha’i Faith.  My longtime readers may remember that, in 2012, we commemorated the centennial of ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s visit to North America.  2021 will, thus,also be a special year for us Baha’is.

For me, personally, it will bring the end of my full-time employment as an educator.  I have ambitious, but still tentative, plans for international travel.  Besides those, I will be more active on the volunteer front, in whatever community (ies) I may find myself, once “retired”.

So there are the substances of numbers one through four, as they pertain to my humble life.  Many of these could very well come to pass, though the Universe does throw a curve at each of us, every so often!