Tag Archives: North America

Baccarat

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Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, impediments, Inner Struggles, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving

October 5, 2024, Manila- What I was told, about yesterday’s travails, more than tugged at my heartstrings. I said as much, and sincerely want to be there, when life goes off the rails for one who has had to struggle on her own, for far too long. I said that, too.

Maybe because she has a need to do things on her own, to struggle and see things through, my comments were met with a shrug. It’s hard to say; after all, I can only be here, this time, for three more weeks. Then I have to return to North America, to at the very least meet obligations, and at the very most finish up what I started, before I met her. While I am back at Home Base, and elsewhere on the continent where I have spent most of my life, K will be here, carrying on and relying on her own abilities and talents. I will be offering moral support, from a distance, and that’s all.

In the game of Baccarat, a player holds two hands and a dealer, one. The player may bet for or against either hand, or against the dealer’s. In life, one can show confidence in the figurative hand one has been dealt or plan against it-or may challenge the hand held by the person in control.

So, I can move forward with confidence, make plans to return here next May, with or without any guarantee that I will initially be welcomed again. I can “bet against my own hand”, put it down and stay put in Home Base, being thankful for even having had time with K, at all. I can bet against the dictates of conventional wisdom, and come here with a greater purpose: To do, in the Philippines and southeast Asia what a core group are doing in the Phoenix area. None of these options depends on the strength of a relationship with a specific person-and that is most likely what would actually save it. Independence reassures-and draws people in.

It’s easy, in some ways, to get young people here involved in the building of an equitable society. They are more likely to bring their friends along to a gathering and to take leadership roles, without being prodded. There is no residue of “Children should be seen and not heard”; no noxious after-scent from the Victorian Era. For their part, youth are more prone to thinking before acting or speaking. A good part of that has to do with numbers: People under the age of 30 constituted 60 % of the Philippine population, in the 2020 Census. The percentage of youth in the United States population, according to the same census, is 28.6 %.

Youth in developing nations, like the Philippines, are more likely to be in the driver’s seat, so to speak than their peers are in the developed countries, whose populations are both aging out and much more in a state of time consciousness. There is much that we can learn from countries like the Philippines, in terms of youth engagement.

I hope, thus, to pick up some of those lessons, in the next three weeks-and trust that the right course of action in 2025 will make itself known.

Soloing

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Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Historical, Inner Struggles, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

September 28, 2024, Puerto Princesa- The shoe, it turns out, was only moved a short distance from its untouched mate. Darkness keeps us in suspense, yet I sense when patience will win out, in daylight. The pair again adorn my feet.

I met another American, this morning. He has settled here in Palawan and farms with his wife, near BM Beach, which will itself be my beach experience on Monday. I have made it known that, so long as I am welcome in the Philippines, next year will bring a longer stay. The “Great Adventures” I had planned for the next five years are better off done with someone I have come to love-and trust- very much. Before them, then, comes earning trust, myself-and so I make that commitment, even with the adjustments this will bring to my comfortable life in Arizona.

Family has only grown larger, over the years, but I have seen a bigger picture than my local scene, since I was four years old. Always branching out, farther and farther-while never forgetting my roots, it has been such a rewarding life. Some of this has been imparted to my son, who is in the rootedness phase of life, and so will be the anchor of annual or semiannual jaunts back to North America. The wider family, though, will hardly shrink.

I felt comfortable enough, this evening, to walk south and west, and take in Puerto Princesa’s Bayside Park, its Cathedral and Plaza Cuartel- the scene of a brutal massacre during World War II. It may or may not be a hallmark of American travelers, but I go anywhere that is not off-limits, or is obviously dangerous turf. Puerto Princesa is not a dangerous place.

Statue of the “princess”, for whom the city is named. She was an elusive figure, it is said.

Peacock Statue (Tandikan)-the provincial bird of Palawan.

University crew members, in practice

City logo, at Bayside Park.

Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, Puerto Princesa

Account of brutality that grew out of fear.

So went my solo visit to Hondo Bay and its interesting park.

Bedrock

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Posted by on in collaborating, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Service Activities, Spiritual, Striving

February 5, 2019-

The past couple of days have brought the kind of semi-wintry weather, not the least bit warm, but not cold enough for snow, for which our area is known, this time of year.

Prescott’s winter allows for business to be conducted as usual, for all but 3-4 days during the season- and then it is only interrupted in the morning.  Noon usually brings melting.

The whole reason for my continuing to work is based on the love that forms  the bedrock of my view of the world.  I have health that is good enough to keep me getting up, going in, paying attention to my charges and co-workers, and living the full life of a committed professional, until the day comes, most likely in May, 2021, that  it’s time for me to change direction.

I am finding that, with each passing day, my family, in the real sense of the word, is getting larger and stronger.  Being able to travel the length and breadth of the North American continent, and a good many places beyond, and never feel like a stranger, is a feeling that I would not have imagined for myself, even ten years ago.  Feeling that I am never really alone, even in the outwardly darkest of times, is a blessing that has only come with facing the tests and trials of what is never promised to be a charmed life.

I feel this, after an afternoon of learning more about handling job challenges in a different way and an evening of contemplating this bedrock of love that the Infinite, the Universe, has set for us.

Sixty-Six, for Sixty Six, Part LXIII: My Dream Pack

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

September 18, 2017, Prescott-

A writer whom I recently began to follow has written, of late, about the concept of the Dream Pack- essentially, a way of life, place, group of close people which, collectively help each being realize the fullness of his/her particular dream.

The outpouring of love I have felt today, in person and online, brings me to reiterate what I have said on occasion, in the past.  People have come, gone and, in a few instances, returned.  I have found places, near and far, which bring me inspiration, for a time, and while some have lost their allure- others have drawn me close.  My way of life remains pretty much the same, though the accent, of late, has been on service, rather than a trail-side regimen.

My Dreampack , then, is large and varied:  My son, in Korea, is a phone call and an ocean away.  My siblings are a mere continent apart from me.  I have a nephew, in Los Angeles, who is a full schedule, or two, distant.  Mother is East Coast-bound, but will get a letter a week from me, and will respond, when she can, with reassurance that she is just fine, and inspirational comments.  My solid network of friends, in the Prescott area, and across Arizona, make it certain that, if I feel lonesome, it’s my own doing.  The same is true, all over North America.  I am never far, when in my car, from someone who at least has time for a cup of “joe”, or tea, or Jamba Juice.

There is a teen boy, who I am sponsoring, across the Pacific.  Someday, I will visit him.   My Dream Pack is large and varied, and includes kindred souls in the Philippines, South Korea, Australia, India, Zimbabwe, South Africa, Tanzania, Iran, Russia, Romania, Italy, Spain, Germany, Luxembourg, Belgium, Netherlands, Scotland and beloved France.  Yes, that’s a lot of turf, for one who lives on a shoestring, but since when has that been an impediment?

My Dream Pack has been a series of Chinese boxes, opening up to yet another, and a series of amazements, (yes, I just made up a word), which will continue.  The Universe is endless in its provision of many kinds of wealth.

The Road to 65, Mile 131: Typhoons

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Posted by on in Social

April 8, 2015, Prescott-  It was cold all over the place today.  Snow was reported on the East Coast, and we shivered a bit, here in northern Arizona. North America is past being ready for warm weather.

It’s time to consider that warm weather has its price:  Storms happen, as anyone in New Orleans or Miami can attest.  Tornadoes have already swiped Oklahoma and Arkansas, this spring.  Even Dubai had a wicked dust storm, last week.

Typhoons, though, are in a league of their own.  Being cyclonic in nature is bad enough, when the storm is an Atlantic or eastern Pacific hurricane.  In the islands of the western Pacific, from Borneo and New Guinea to New Zealand, and on up to Japan, the deadliness of a Category 5 Typhoon, hitting a low-lying island community, seemingly from three directions at once, defies the imagination.  The Philippines have had two such killer storms, this year alone. Vanuatu, which used to be called New Hebrides, is slowly inching forward in recovery from a massive typhoon, a few long weeks ago.  Small countries nearby, named Kiribati and Tuvalu, also got hammered by the monster.  These are not places with an unlimited store of resilience, but they will come back from that one.

Word has reached us, this evening, of yet another Category 5.  This one is hitting Micronesia, a vast federation of atolls, stretching nearly 1,000 miles from east to west.  There was a civilization in western Micronesia, when Europe was shaking from the Dark Ages. The villagers of the  low-lying islands had much to impart to the Spanish and Dutch, who came seeking a quick route from China to the Americas, in the Sixteenth Century.

We used to have an image of Pacific Islanders, as happy, carefree dancers and singers, who were always glad to see boatloads of tourists.  There was a warrior segment, also, of course, but they got reduced to an entertainment contingent as well- savagely tattooed and grimacing, to the delight of the squealing audience.

It was never thus.  South Sea islands, to my mind, are harsh places, in terms of having enough fresh water; in terms of surviving monster waves, tides and gale-force winds; in terms of not being forgotten by the wider world.  We who are concerned with rising seas, point to places like Kiribati, Tuvalu and Nauru, in the Pacific, Anguilla in the Caribbean, and the Maldives and Seychelles, in the Indian Ocean, as victims of climate change, “in the not-to-distant future”.  This year’s experience, though, suggests that the world had better keep an eye on nature’s “dry runs”- the three Category 5 typhoons that have leveled the homes of good-hearted and long-struggling human beings.  Mankind is one, after all.