Tag Archives: Northern Arizona University

Anticipatory Memories III

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Posted by on in Assistance, Family, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

June 22, 2024- I was sitting on my bed, in a room for married students, at Northern Arizona University, Flagstaff. It was a Sunday morning, in 1986, and the two of us were planning our respective study days. We were both Graduate Students, I seeking my initial Master’s Degree and Penny, her second.

The analog phone rang and Penny answered. Mom was on the line and asked to speak to me. “Are you sitting down, Honey? Dad died this morning.” Just like that, my world joined hers, in collapse and disarray. I was, however, 35 years old and had to make some quick decisions with my wife of four years. After telling Mom that I would be in Saugus as quickly as possible, I made flight arrangements and packed. Penny would be unable to join me on the flight, as she had a major language exam, the following weekend. We went shopping for all that she would need while on her own, without a car. I then set out for Phoenix, and by midnight, EDT, I was across the country, in my childhood home, embracing my dear mother, then sleeping in my old bed.

The next morning, she told me that she had just been covered by a cold touch. She thought it was Dad. Having been visited by my maternal grandmother, shortly after her death, in 1960, I made sense of that. (I would later, as Penny was transitioning in 2011-, feel a full ectoplasmic presence in our bedroom, though she was in a hospice room, 20 miles to the northwest.) The departing reach out to their loved ones. (This afternoon, I heard two distinct whispers, while I was helping someone put a long folding table into a truck. The co-worker wasn’t whispering, and no one else was around. I have heard nothing further about Mom’s condition, but I am sure she is trying to communicate with me.)

Mom has always been direct with people; no mystery has ever existed, as to where one stands with Lila Mae. I could never even so much as fib to her, without her knowing exactly where the truth was being told and what part of my story was pure Blarney, or as she put it: “Bushwah”. At some very primitive level, that remains in her psyche, even in these last days. I would probably still be bopped upside the head, if I entertained an untoward thought.

When she thought we were being absurd, out came the Irish oath: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” She would later say that she was merely praying,but there was no mistaking the message. Each of us was always expected to do better-and excuses were given no quarter, in my mother’s court. At the same time, when one of us did well, or had a hopeful development, there was no more exuberant cheerleader.

Tonalea

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

March 27, 2024- “You don’t need to leave a tip. We didn’t really DO anything.” The cashier thus made her appeal to the dignity of one and all, as I paid for a couple bags of freshly ground coffee. I thought how refreshingly decent this woman is, and how sentiments like hers give the lie to the notion that Gen Z is collectively self-centered and always has its generational hand out. (The Greatest Generation, once upon a time, expressed similar sentiments about us then-youthful Boomers, but I digress.)

One of the bags was going to the old friend I was en route to visit, and to his family. C lost his wife of 40 + years, a few months back, and so I was heading up to Tonalea, to offer condolences and emotional support. The community’s name in the Dineh (Navajo) language, means, essentially, Red Lake. There is, in years of heavy winter and spring precipitation, an actual lake, off U.S. Hwy/160, on the community’s north side. This year, I saw no lake.

It was a smooth ride from Prescott to Flagstaff, where I bought the coffee from Macy’s European Coffee House and Bakery, owned by another old friend. Traffic in and around Northern Arizona University reminds me a bit of Manila-everyone is doing their own thing, and gridlock is not altogether a rarity. My upbringing helps me transcend that, as a motorist here and as a pedestrian in my second favourite big city (after San Diego). Looking out for others makes for a longer journey, but for better self-esteem, at day’s end.

Driving from Flagstaff to Tonalea was even smoother. Dineh and Hopi people are quite orderly and civil, in their driving habits, and the area is sparsely polulated, to boot. As the two Elephant’s Feet (grey sandstone rock formations) looked on, from across the highway, I turned on the graded dirt road that winds around, towards Black Mesa, and reached C’s homestead, five miles inward. There he stood, as I arrived, at about the same time as planned.

C reminisced about his wedded life and what had led to his wife’s passing. Her suffering, it seemed, was mercifully short. We then talked of the connection between those of us in the flesh and our departed loved ones. Years ago, as Penny and I lay together, she told me she had seen my Penobscot ancestors standing over me, as I slept. I was not surprised by that. The ties that departed souls have to this world are very, very strong. Everything that has happened to me, both the serendipitous events that have transpired and my protection from malevolent forces, over the past thirteen years, or even before, has been due to those who have gone before me, and who make up a bulwark of energy that lets me do the bidding of the Divine.

After a two-hour visit, and my reassuring him that all will be well, even with the swirling changes that seem to bother him so, it was time for C to get back to tending to his family, working on his fences, and keeping livestock from eating his trees. It was also time for me to head back to Prescott, with a “halfway stop” at My Pita Wrap, a small Mediterranean restaurant on Flagstaff’s main drag. Going back up to Dinehtah, with its otherworldly rocks, grounded people and mystical energy, is always a reset for my own personal energy.

Sadratu’l- Muntaha

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Posted by on in impediments, Personal Values, Striving

September 27, 2017, Prescott-

NOTE:  The title term refers to a tree, planted at a terminus of a road, in ancient Arabia.  It could signify either an ending or a beginning.

What, exactly, is a barrier?

Which is the beginning, and which, the ending?

I recall that every walk around Saugus began at our back door.

So, too, did every journey end there.

My formal education began in September, 1956, at the Felton School.

It ended in August, 1987, when I completed my administrative credential, at Northern Arizona University.

My time as a Roman Catholic began with my baptism.

It ended with my declaration as a member of the Baha’i Faith.

Now, I live in an apartment, in Prescott, Arizona; work as a teacher aide, at Prescott High School; am a devoted adherent to the Teachings of Baha’u’llah.

Do I still consider Saugus a place in my heart?

Am I still learning?

Do I still revere Jesus the Christ?

In each case, the answer will always be “Yes”.

Will I not again travel?

Will I close my mind to new ideas?

Will I turn aside from the Creator?

In each case, “No”.

What, exactly, is a barrier?

It occurs to me, that each barrier is a self-imposed ending.

 

The Road to 65, Mile 344: Small Circles

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Posted by on in children, Education, Inner Struggles, Personal goals

November 7, 2015, Flagstaff- I rose early, for a Saturday, so as to get up  here to Northern Arizona University, and take two of the three exams I must take, in order to obtain certification as an elementary teacher (1-8), in Arizona.  I have several other certificates:  Secondary Teacher, Guidance Counselor and Principal.  The position I am now filling, as a substitute teacher, however, is not something I can continue to do, long term, without credentials.

I also think it is high time I moved through the self-doubt cloud, and showed my true abilities, both to myself and to the world at large.  My spirit guides keep saying, “This day of yours will not be followed by night.”  I know this means that the present opportunity will not be taken from me, by shallow politics or my own tendency to trip myself up.

This time, I will be okay, work-wise.  This time, I know how to navigate the small circle which runs the school.  In the past, I gave too much energy to my being an outsider.  That status might still be extant, but the children are who matter most.  I will be standing, at the end of the term, and at the end of the academic year.

The Road to 65, Mile 316: Shots Fired

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Posted by on in Uncategorized

October 9, 2015, Chino Valley- I woke today, to the horrible news that a student at my alma mater, Northern Arizona University, had killed a schoolmate and wounded three others.  This, at one of the most congenial and intimate of universities in the country.

I studied at NAU from 1979-81 (Master’s Program) and again, intermittently, from 1983-87, obtaining my school administrative certificate and credentials for teaching learners of English as a Second Language.  Any disagreements I had with other students, usually about them being noisy after 10 P.M., on a weeknight, were easily resolved, with compromises by both parties. (i.e. my wearing earplugs and their turning down the base and treble).

When I was eleven, I went through a firearms safety and marksmanship course, courtesy of the Boy Scouts and National Rifle Association.  NRA, at that time, was known and respected for making weapons safety its main concern.  I have not generally had firearms in my home, though there was one on hand in our house in Phoenix.  It never had to be used, and was sold when son and I moved out.

The one thing that was drilled into me, over and over, and which I imparted to Aram, is that a weapon- be it firearm, blade or what have you, is to be treated with full respect for what damage it can do.  A firearm is the easiest weapon to use, IF, and only if, proper protocol is being followed.  The Boy Scouts teach their members to NEVER POINT a weapon, toy or otherwise, at another human being.  Shooting in self-defense is seen by them as something to be done, sparingly, by adults.

We are too casual, as a nation, with regard to allowing the mentally ill to obtain weapons, period.  I once had to intervene and remove several steak knives from a place where they were accessible to emotionally-handicapped elementary students, and place those knives in a locked cabinet.  I lost an adult friend because of this, but I don’t care.

How much worse is it to let those under siege, in their own mind, have ready access to firearms?  The debate will go on, as long as we regard the Federal Government as an enemy.  In fact, it reflects who we are as a people- our strivings, our conflicts (both internal and interpersonal) and our priorities.

The bottom line, impacting both mental health and the very “need” to own weapons, is our twin tendency, as a society, for anonymity and insularity.  I see it in everything from being unwilling to share a table, in a public place, with strangers, to road rage to viewing those who simply have differing opinions, in an adversarial light.  I have been guilty of all three of these, though my anger on the road never compelled me to assault the other people.  I have also been on the receiving end of all three, though thankfully, never physically assaulted on the road.

Requiring background checks on prospective firearms owners, or would-be purchasers of long knives and swords, or explosives, or copious amounts of poisonous substances, is not going to be a cure-all for violent assault and murder.  It IS, however, a DETERRENT.  That which gives a person pause, which makes her/him think twice, is worth the inconvenience of delay in purchase.  It also makes it a lot easier to live under the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution.