Tag Archives: National Geographic Magazine

Falling Into Place

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

December 18,2025- It took all of ten minutes to get a thrift store dispatcher to schedule the pick-up of most of my furniture for the last week of the year. It took five minutes to schedule a cleaning crew for the same day. Drawers and cabinets were cleared and wiped clean. A lot more stuff went to the Disabled American Veterans thrift store. There is about three hours’ worth of work left, for tomorrow morning.

I changed my address with the Post Office, effective December 30 and said farewell to The Arizona Republic, after subscribing since March, 1992. (I had subscribed from June, 1980-August, 1986, but then Penny and I moved to South Korea for 5.5 years.) The Red Cross was informed of my new address, as was National Geographic Magazine. Other notifications will go out, in the next few weeks.

Visits with friends punctuated the day. I made one last visit to the Farmers Market office and left some items in the care of one of my first co-workers. Dinner with a colleague from the Soup Kitchen capped a very fine day, with talk of the state of the teaching profession-and his concerns about the shallowness of online dating. Yet the ninety minutes spent with someone who helped turn my life around, after I was wallowing in the doldrums in the early 2010s, was easily the high point of the day. M is a model of proactivity and sustained self-reliance. She has achieved, singly and alone, the transformation of a neglected property into an organized and comfortable residence-something that I saw eluding her for most of our 12-year friendship. I can say she is one of those I will miss the most in this community of bright friend stars.

Now, I will rest and prepare for finishing my downsizing and getting underway on the first stage of the move to Plano. It is all falling into place.

Death of A Culture?

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

November 15, 2023- The scene, in a National Geographic Magazine article on orcas of the Southern Ocean, showed three or four females in an orca family systematically using wave action to upend a small ice floe, on which their prey, a Weddell seal, was sheltering. The maneuver was ultimately successful and the dolphins took their food home.

It was then pointed out, that the decline in sea ice has led the seals to find a new home, inland on a rocky landscape. Orcas, and other cetaceans, have no such recourse. Thus, the author concluded, we may be witnessing the death of a culture.

Cetaceans may, over eons, return to the land-dwelling practices of their very distant ancestors. Living things are almost always able to adapt to the Earth’s changes, if given plenty of time. Aspects of culture, though, will rise and fall, with the onset of those changes.

I pondered what this has meant, in a human context, just in my own lifetime. When I was four, a child could not get on a phone and call a beloved relative, without two or three unfamiliar female voices telling him to get off the phone. I used to wonder, even back then, how nice it would be it we could speak to family and friends on a phone that could be used in a car-or while walking along a sidewalk.

In moments of self-pity, in my early adolescence, I wondered what it would be like to live in a society where it was severely frowned-upon, or even illegal, to ridicule others. I quickly concluded that the scenario would be untenable- since nobody’s perfect, and not being held to account for things would end in the person falling victim to own ego.

The narrowness of my contacts, growing up in a community where people of colour lived on the periphery of town, or came to work from the two larger cities to our northeast and southwest, respectively, allowed subliminal and stereotypical views of other ethnicities to settle in my psyche. Still, I wondered from an early age as to how long it would take for people of colour to be able to live freely, wherever they wanted-with no harassment from those around them. I guess we’re still working on that one-though we’ve certainly come a long way. The house, where my mother and her siblings were raised, has been owned for several years by an African-American attorney, of distinguished bearing and considerable accomplishment. I think my maternal grandfather, who prided himself on his work, would have approved.

Culture, our collective, shared set of beliefs, practices and implements, may always change. To say it is subject to death, though, is rather presumptuous.

Mind and Spirit, 2023

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

January 3, 2023– I spent three hours or so, this afternoon, watching the film, Babylon, which deals with the experiences of four main characters, who are all linked by way of the debauchery of early Hollywood and the transition from silent film to “talkies”. It has a long time span, stretching from 1926 to 1952, and by the time one of the main characters dispatches his listless wife and daughter back to their hotel, choosing to himself take in Gene Kelly’s “Singing In The Rain” in a crowded cinema, his head is spinning from the memories that one film generates-as he had had a hand in trying to promote a talkie that featured the title song, in the early Thirties.

Babylon does not skimp on details of the Bohemian culture of the Roaring Twenties, nor on the hardheaded business culture that funded the fun and games-especially the drug trade which, then as now, was the means to mindlessness. With that I was again mindful that, in every age, each human soul must choose whether to follow the promptings of the body or to center thoughts and actions on the guidance of the Spirit, a guidance based in genuine love.

A few days ago, a correspondent asked of my goals for spiritual and intellectual growth for this Gregorian year. Three main goals, in each area, come to mind.

Spiritually, I will first continue attending and facilitating study circles that focus on personal and community development, based on Baha’i principles. My second goal is to maintain and extend spiritual ties to those in my personal network. Thirdly, I will continue and expand studies of Baha’i and older Scriptural writings.

Intellectually, my first goal is to actively read each day, outside of Scriptural study. My current pile of books consists of :”The Lost World of the Old Ones”, a study of southwest anthropology by David Roberts; “Prairie Erth”, William Least Heat Moon’s lengthy study of life in Chase County, Kansas; “John Adams”, by David McCullough. As I finish each book, another is added to the pile-and immediately waiting are “EcoVillages”, by Karen Litfin; “The Four Agreements”, by Alberto Villoldo; and a re-reading of “The Fifth Sacred Thing”, by Star Hawk.

Secondly, increasing the quality of my dialogues and other conversations with those in my network is a key goal. I recall the tiredness implied in the 1980s book “What Do You Say, After You Say Hello”, and how I bought into the notion that, particularly in interactions between males and females, there is a short leash of sorts which, Eric Berne rightly pointed out, deserves to be severed and a saner appeal to wider shared interests and explorations be the modus operandi in its place. One of my greatest regrets is letting that one-dimensional outlook guide me in my teens and twenties-and re-emerge, in a sense, after Penny’s death. Thankfully, my present network of friends is way past that mentality.

Thirdly, I will focus more, in my activities both here and further afield, taking more interest in intellectual community events, in this area, and spending more time in selected places, when on the road. I am reading, in this month’s National Geographic Magazine, that increasing the quality of intellectual activity does have a positive effect on limiting, even counteracting, dementia and other cerebral impairments.

As with other aspects of my life, specifics will ensue, as the year rolls on. It’ll be a rich one, for sure.

Seventy-One and Counting, Day 4

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Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, children, collaborating, Family, Hiking and Nature, impediments, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

December 2, 2021- It was a fine thing, to again have hot water for my shower and for washing the dishes. It turned out that the landlord’s own apartment also had lukewarm water. That led to things being straightened out, in short order. It is also just in time, as the unusually mild weather we’ve had is about to transition to more seasonable temperatures.

Rampage. Four young people, two boys and two girls, were killed by a gunman, on Tuesday, at Oxford High School, north of Detroit. There are two counties which have now closed their schools for the rest of this week, at minimum, with either accomplices to the shooter or copycats, threatening to up the number of victims. Two weeks ago, an automobile was the weapon of choice, for an unhinged man, acting out of hatred. Tuesday, in Oxford, the killer reverted to a firearm, of the sort used so often to inflict pain and suffering, these past twenty-nine years. This is another of those instances that gives the lie to the claim that only guns can stop guns. The reality is that only mental health programs, getting to the roots of what make unstable people go over the edge, can augment firearms registration and safety training to the point where gun-based violence is a rarity, rather than a pestilence.

Choices. I have reached the point where my work assignments are going to be carefully selected. More of my efforts are to be self-care, with a fair amount of volunteer work, though that is turning out to be less than before. Keeping a healthy immune system will be the pet project for the foreseeable future. I have seen four of my most treasured spiritual teachers pass on this year, partly because they just reached an age where their systems gave out. There was, however, also the matter of compromised immunity.

“Welcome to Earth”. This is the heading on the December issue of National Geographic Magazine. It is intended to take a fresh look at our planet, with a specific focus on the Serengeti Plain ( a place I fully intend to visit, along with other places in Africa, sometime between 2024-26). There are pieces devoted to each aspect of the ecosystem-including the human element, without which no amount of goodwill and effort at saving the beleaguered wildlife will suffice to keep this global treasure for the sake of generations to come-both for the area’s residents and all those around the planet, who value the place from afar. This will be a classic edition of NGM, much like the special editions on France, Australia and The Oceans.

There is so much to be done, locally and abroad. I can only promise to take the best care of my autumnal self. From there, everyone I love will be well-tended.

Predisposition

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Historical, impediments, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social

June 7, 2021- I read an article, in the current issue of National Geographic Magazine, about a sizable number of Old Colony Mennonites, settling in rural, forested areas of Mexico, and clearing huge swaths of the forest, so that they could plant Transgenic (GMO) soybeans. The process includes aerial spraying of glysophate-a poison that has been shown to lead to metastasized cancer, when ingested through air and water. There has been conflict with the indigenous people of the region, the Maya, who have used the land for small farming and to raise bees. The Mayan bees have been dying off, since aerial spraying of glysophate began. The Mennonites say they have bees that can thrive, despite the presence of glysophate.

I have friends in Pennsylvania who are Mennonites, and who are committed to keeping the Earth both productive and in a relatively pristine condition. They are horticulturists, and much of their produce is raised in greenhouses. I am not aware of any widespread use of glysophate in their operation. So, the NGS account set me to thinking: Why are the settlers in Mexico so adamant about their mission?

People being creatures of habit, with deeply engrained genetic memory, it helps to trace the residential patterns of a group. The Old Colony Mennonites came from grasslands of central Europe and Russia, via Germany, and settled in the prairies of central and western Canada. They are accustomed to large farming operations, worked by large families. They are also given to hard work, relying on Biblical Scripture for guidance and practicing prudent business. A treeless prairie is turned into productive cropland, with relative ease, compared with the forest-which, whether tropical or temperate, is alien land. Thus, with no regard for any value the rainforest may have, the trees are cleared. The land becomes grassland, or cropland.

This has been repeated since the first nomads emerged from the steppes of Central Asia, millennia ago. The treeless land of their origins formed both their mindset, as to the status of the environment and as to the approach that should be taken towards any environment that differed from their native grasslands. Forests were meant to be cleared; deserts were meant to be irrigated; mountains were meant to be either terraced or laid low. The Old Colony Mennonites are no different, in that respect, from all who migrated before them.

That said, there remains the one thing that could lay both them, and their neighbours, low: The poison, that their interpretation of Scripture says is essential to maintaining their way of life. Glysophate has been shown to lead to several cancers, most commonly Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. While only a longitudinal study, of the people of Campeche and Tabasco, will likely convince the leadership of Old Colony that this practice is dangerous, such intransigence is going to cause harm to the very people for whom the leaders say they are engaging in large-scale farming: Their children and grandchildren. Even if the leaders can claim to be unconcerned about their neighbours, an unlikely scenario, for them to be blithely placing crop yield, profit and Manifest Destiny over their own families’ lives, proceeds from sublime to ridiculous.

We can debate the merits and pitfalls of transgenic farming for days on end, but the use of pesticides that are deadly to all life should no longer be up for discussion: Mexico, along with most other civilized nations, has banned the use of glysophate. Predisposition to dominance aside, it is time for the Old Colony members to stop its use, and seek to use methods of crop protection that are not lethal to humans, or bees.

And Greenwood Burned

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Striving

June 2, 2021- Much long overdue attention has been focused, over the past week, on the Centenary of the destruction and massacre in Tulsa, Oklahoma’s Greenwood section, on May 31-June 1, 1921. The President has visited, and met with three survivors, commemorative events have been held around the country, and in other nations, and even the Murdochs, in their National Geographic Magazine, have commissioned well-thought-out articles on the horrific event, and on race identity in general. I will make my own visit of homage to Tulsa, and to Greenwood, after visiting with my son and daughter-in-law, outside Dallas, next month.

Many did not know of this stain on our history, until recently, but as a country, we have long known of the legacy of the slave trade and its aftermath. “The Underground Railroad”, whose televised depiction I am viewing now, on Amazon Prime, gives even more graphic illustration of what went on in many, if not most, plantations and smallholder farms, where slavery fueled the economy. That mindset died hard, where it did die at all, even in “Free” states. There is still far too much of the concept of “Us” vs. “Them”, even among those who say they abide the presence of people of colour. I can see it, in the readiness of so many to embrace restrictive laws, in the areas of voting, of residence and of taxation for the public weal. There are those who would summarily execute people illegally crossing both borders or homeless people in large cities-and there are more of the “I, the Jury” types than one would care to think.

I first learned of the Greenwood Massacre-and similar events in Chicago, Detroit, East St. Louis and Rosewood, Florida in 1973, during a class entitled U.S. History Since 1877. The instructor, Dr. Israelsohn, was a classical conservative, but had no use for race-baiting and the systemic segregation that occurred in every part of the country, to some degree or another, right up until the time that course was offered. Her conservatism was that of true free enterprise and self-sufficiency.

That people can mature and develop, admirably, in so many ways, yet be unable to recognize the futility of Zero-Sum, increasingly escapes me. Where there is enough to share-then there is room to share, as well. Where there is enough to cover the feet of the people around oneself, then why hog the blanket? To be sure, this is one reason why I travel-and it is one reason why community service is a priority. Where there is real connection, there is no “Other”.

Let there be no more Greenwood Massacres, of any kind.

The Road to 65, Mile 244: Ninety-Nine

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Posted by on in Social

July 30, 2015- Today marks the only birthday of an uncle-by-marriage that I remember from my childhood. John Ellsworth “Ellie” Reilly would have been 99 years of age today.  Uncle Ellie and Aunt Hazel were my godparents, during my Roman Catholic upbringing, and had their birthdays within a few weeks of one another.  Aunt Hazel would have no part of us knowing her birthday, but always made a fuss over her husband’s, so the next-to-last day of July was always a big event.

Ellie was the youngest of five children, and despite being of slight build, had an Irish temper that put the fear of God in those who needed to be set straight.  I was one of the lights of his life, so that fear found me, via another source.  Uncle worked in a meat-packing plant for about twenty years, then arthritis set in, President Nixon expanded the SSDI, and Ellie found himself minding the house, while Aunt Hazel worked a payroll job at the G. E. plant.  They never had much, but their house was always the venue for family gatherings, at Christmas time.  The two of us Godchildren got a few bucks around then, also- that was the Reilly way. Hazel and Ellie also got me started with National Geographic Magazine, at age 9,and I’m still a member of NGS, 56 years later.

I recall one summer when I was about twelve, such a tactful age, that- I mentioned to Ellie that some of the people about town were speaking uncharitably of the houses on his street.  His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing to me- though my Dad gave me what for, a day or two later.  Nonetheless, the next time I walked over to visit, I noticed the yards west of theirs had been tidied up.  I know Uncle and Aunt had a well-kept yard, because I kept it nicely.

Uncle Ellie passed on in 2002, as Fall was making its own turn for the worse.  He would sound off about all manner of current events, but I seldom heard a word about his ailments.  Truth be known, his was a generation that regarded ailments as private business.  He chose to spend his time, once left off of the Job Train, reading all manner of books, fiction and non-fiction, when he wasn’t prognosticating which dog would win at the Wonderland Race Track.  It was a life lived honestly, and he remains one of the most beloved men of my youth.

I will remember, for all time, our intense and somewhat heated debates over the efficacy of the Nixon Administration, and after August, 1974, he humbly owned up to having been far too trusting of his fellow Republicans.  Of course, once Mr. Reagan got in, and we were on the same side again, he smilingly called the turn of events- “The Irish Revenge”.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my view of RWR was tarnished somewhat by Iran-Contra.

John E. Reilly was, nonetheless, a  classic, unto himself.