Falling Into Place

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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.

Not Overlooked

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December 16, 2025- The tall, soft-spoken man had become used to being overlooked. This morning, though, he was tired of it. When asked to wait for our Blood Donation center to finish being set up, he obligingly sat down. Then, things happened in rapid succession: The Center opened, ten people came through the door and lined up to be admitted, while he stayed seated. Once the line had been processed, the man was called over. He was livid.

He got an apology and was processed, then, still grousing about unfair treatment, he went to the donor interview seating area. One of those who had preceded him in line struck up a conversation, heard him out and offered to let him go ahead. That took the wind out of his angry sails and he calmed down. After a satisfying donation, he told the registration volunteers that they were not at fault, and wished everyone a Merry Christmas.

Many people in our society, and in large communities across the globe, feel overlooked, anonymous. Many indeed are. The human brain can only process just so much, and can only pay attention to just so many, before encountering someone who just doesn’t register, whose needs don’t compute. The brain is part of a physical system. It is finite, although it is also far more capable of achievement than most of us allow.

A lot of anonymity in society is due to spiritual dissonance. We are all primarily spiritual beings, living for a time in a physical frame. Those who don’t recognize their spirituality are far more likely to both feel overlooked and to compartmentalize their relationships with others. Isolation is a dangerous thing, both for the person experiencing it, and for those at whom the isolate, eventually, lashes out. Those who feel overlooked will eventually, invariably, find each other, and form groups with skewed visions of reality. Terrorism then ensues, either by someone acting alone or by the group.

The ISIS attack on American Army Reservists in Syria, over the weekend; the mass murder in Sydney; the murders of a conservative activist and an Uzbeki student, in Providence; and even the killings of Rob and Michele Reiner, all follow the pattern: One or more isolated people, to some extent or another exacerbated by mental illness, and in many cases separated from their true spirit (even if they claim to be acting on behalf of a Faith), and feeling misunderstood, lash out in a horrifying manner. They misunderstand their own nature, and taking the seeming indifference of others-who are themselves a bit cut off from their spirituality-as proof that they are owed retribution, lash out in a horrifying manner.

Each individual needs to know that s(he) is responsible for own spiritual education. Parents and adults close to a child can help him or her in that regard. Adults can help one another, but in the end, we each need to take agency for our spiritual existence.

Several of us heard the gentleman’s cry for recognition, this morning, and turned around what could have been an ugly situation. This can be done anywhere, if we recognize the Source of our lives and strive accordingly.

The Essentials of 74; The Promise of 75

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November 28, 2025, Grapevine- The road to diamond ended where it began, in the company of my little family, here in Texas’ Christmas City. There was a sense that life would continue as ever, for the three of us, and in preparation for my third visit to the Philippines, I seriously contemplated moving there, being very strongly drawn to a lovely woman and having made several friends during my first two trips to that beautiful, struggling, supremely hospitable country.

I sojourned a lot this year-to the Philippines in February; back to the eastern U.S., in May and across a wide swath of Europe in September and October. In between, my commitment to Prescott continued unabated and many hours of service were recorded. These were the fruits of twelve years of building relationships and friendships, across sectarian and even ideological lines.

The finest thing about both travels and community service came in seeing people take the reins of empowerment to themselves. Filipinos rejuvenating a local Baha’i Center, building a pavilion for an elementary school, and women standing up and saying “Enough” to abusive significant others made my spirit soar. The initial phases of a Baha’i House of Worship, north of Manila were an added bonus.

Northern Arizona became a distinct Red Cross Chapter again this year. I had little to do with the actual achievement, but was able to establish ties between the organization and at least one rural community, east of Prescott. We also reached out to formerly isolated communities in the far northern reaches of the state-albeit as an outcome of a horrific fire that ravaged the magnificent North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Getting to spend time with friends in several European countries fulfilled an eleven year old promise. Visits to Sweden, Croatia, Ireland and the United Kingdom accomplished that goal. Paying homage to the victims of the Holocaust, at Auschwitz-Birkenau and to those massacred at Srebrenica, Bosnia & Hercegovina was the fulfillment of what I regard as a duty of a citizen of the world. In most places, my presence was evanescent, yet I felt at home, and would not be unwelcome if I returned.

I have reached my diamond jubilee. The day, and this Thanksgiving visit, have been focused on the coming move of my little family and I into a permanent home. Doing things like meeting the tradesmen who will help prepare the house, going over specs and pointing out things that need to be repaired/replaced, shopping for new furniture to replace items that are, in my case at least, nearly fourteen years old-have taken precedence. Once I get back in Prescott, in the middle of next week, the process of dismantling Home Base I begins in earnest. Furniture will need to be sold or given away, as will clothing, books and a variety of household items. Farewells will be said, at gatherings in the Prescott area, in southern California and in the Phoenix area. Farewell, though, is not an eternal goodbye.

Our little one will arrive, sometime in the second half of December. A new era thus starts, along with the beginning of my “fourth quarter”. Other than a visit to the Philippines, at the start of 2026, itself dependent on the baby’s healthy start and her mother’s health, my time at the new Home Base I, from March onward, will be primarily focused on my granddaughter’s care. Gradually, Plano will become my new community. It will not be Prescott-but then again, Prescott was not Jeddito, and Jeddito was not Jeju. Every Home Base has had its draws, its strengths and its undying memories.

The promise of 75 is the promise of guiding a new life, a new human being, who may very well be the embodiment of much that I have wanted to offer the world. The choice, though, will be up to her alone. All her parents and I can do is guide her with love.

The Road to Diamond, Day 356: Improvising

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November 18, 2025- There were three activities on my schedule today. None of them happened as planned.

First, I went to Community Cupboard, a food pantry where volunteers were needed to fill Thanksgiving bags for people who are down and out. The event started at 8 a.m. I got there at 8:20. The bags were already filled. So, I was asked instead to organize shelves with canned goods, in a way that would allow for ease of access by the volunteers waiting on customers next week, during the pre- Thanksgiving rush. An hour later, there were dedicated shelves filled with corn, beans, tomatoes and mixed vegetables, plus one shelf for single cans of various items, like artichoke hearts, spinach and Lima beans. It should be fairly easy for the volunteer staff to meet customers’ needs.

After that, I headed over to a senior residential complex, where there was to be a Veterans Fair. I was planning to represent the Red Cross there, so off I went in RC attire. There was no Veterans Fair. No matter-as any visit to a senior residential complex finds people who are more than glad for the company. I enjoyed complementary lunch and spent time with a couple of friends who are residents there. We talked of my time in Europe and their upcoming surgeries. There was minimal repetition of stories, by any of us.

Finally, I was to meet some friends in the evening, for our usual Taco Tuesday. It was raining and dark, so no one showed except me. I can still see in the dark, but not everyone can. I just enjoyed a burrito at a comfortable table.

Some days are just meant for improvisation, to see just how sharp one’s cognitive functions still are.

The Road to Diamond, Day 344: Road Planner

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November 6, 2025- The talk, other than about Blood Drives, trailer reorganizations and the entry in Prescott’s upcoming Veterans’ Day Parade, was regarding my pending move to Texas. My Red Cross associates are, in a pleasant surprise, fully on board with it. I have been with the local RC organization since 2012, so ties to the group are strong. Nonetheless, the most important thing to most Red Cross staffers and volunteers is family. To a one, those meeting in Prescott today expressed happiness at the upcoming arrival of my grandchild.

These next eight weeks or so will therefore be very much concerned with letting go of household furniture, a good many books and some other items that have accumulated over the past fourteen years. Another family member who made a similar move, a few years back, has,by example, given me a roadmap ( no pun intended) for this move to be done efficiently and successfully.

In the middle of it all comes Thanksgiving, and we will celebrate it in Grapevine, while looking ahead to spending next year in a house, instead of an apartment. I will drive out there and back, largely because of the uncertainty that still hangs over the airline industry, due to the government shutdown. My diamond jubilee will be the day after Thanksgiving, and besides, the three of us have so much for which to be grateful. Not the least of it is the arrival of family member # 4. I already feel a very deep love, not explicable to anyone who is not themselves a grandparent.

So, my plan is to spend 2-3 days each way on the road, and repeat the process just before Christmas, weather permitting.

The Road to Diamond, Day 342: Building Ties

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November 4, 2025- The scene in the large room was one of purposeful and laser-focused organization. My entry into the room was almost seen as an intrusion, but I was there as an ambassador. The Red Cross has a program in which volunteers greet prospective blood donors, sign them in and usually offer them water or juice and healthy snacks. This is called the Blood Ambassador program.

Once the equipment was set up, my tools and name tags were brought over. I was informed that the nursing staff would be responsible for the snacks and water. This seemed to be more a function of the layout of the room than any systemic change, so I didn’t worry much about it.

The event was an outreach to the Yavapai-Apache people near Camp Verde, and was held at a lodge near Cliff Castle Casino. The facility is basic, but comfortable, and the day proceeded with little trouble. Those who had signed up, but were no shows, due to today being their day off, were outweighed by those who were walk-ins. Thus, the day was deemed a success. The First Nations people were appreciative that the phlebotomists and nurses had come from Phoenix and I, from Prescott.

Our area Red Cross has made considerable efforts to reach out to communities that have historically been marginalized. The small First Nations bands, like the various Yavapai-Apache communities and other rural areas, such as villages on the remote Arizona Strip, between the Grand Canyon and southern Utah, have been a more conscious focus of our Northern Arizona District. This has partially been a silver lining to the horrific Dragon Bravo Fire of this past summer and early autumn and partially due to a stronger local organization, that is not dependent mainly on resources from larger cities, such as Phoenix or Albuquerque.

One of my greatest joys in life is seeing ties built and made stronger. I hope, in the time I have left here, that this will only accelerate.

The Road to Diamond, Day 278: Tying Loose Strands

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September 2, 2025- Coming up to a ledge, on the trail between White Spar Mountain and Goldwater Lake, Hiking Buddy and I spotted nineteen American flags-the sign of a memorial to the 19 Wildland Firefighters, who died in 2013, at Yarnell Hill.

Other forms of death showed themselves nearby.

Beyond, though, are the many signs of life, for which these sacrifices have been made.

We made this short hike, as part of a run-up to my own seven-week absence from Home Base I, and from Arizona. I have had a good summer here, and now it is time to tie up loose ends. Connecting HB with an aficionado of her type of product was another result of today’s efforts. Finally getting through to a critic of local organic farming, earlier this morning, was another.

The rest of the week will see me on a worldwide prayer call, then up at Hopi for a brief visit with new arrivals in the Health Provider community and a Red Cross meeting here, on Thursday. Friday, I will continue my dry run of packing, as the weekend is full of special events, on which more, in a few days.

I have also carefully spoke my peace about other issues, and so far had little push back. Towards that end, I will not elaborate on my thoughts in this forum. We are all entitled to our own opinions, though not to our own facts.

No matter where I go, the sacrifices of those brave men commemorated above, and of others like them, will still figure large in my consciousness. They tied the loose strands of community, by giving their very lives.

The Road to Diamond, Day 270: Two-Way Street

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August 25, 2025- As we made our rounds at a gathering, this morning, a newcomer to the group asked each of us how we came to our present spiritual path. Each of the members briefly did so, with me being last. As I mentioned my story, one of the other members launched into a loud sidebar. I stopped speaking until she was finished, then explained to the new member that this happens a fair amount of the time. If a member is not interested in what another member is saying, then there is interruption. She wondered whether it is due to so many being hard of hearing. Perhaps. I still adhere to Mother’s Rule # 1: Never interrupt!

I used to shrink in the face of louder, more forceful people. Now, I have learned that, without descending to that level, it is okay to gently, but firmly, speak my truth. There is no need to be boorish, but generally what I share with others is fairly well thought out. I have the right to operate on a two-way street of communication.

I pondered this further, this evening, after watching a woman explain in a TED Talk about her experience with three good friends, in which she was steamrolled by the the three, who got carried away with their own experiences and left her out of the conversation. She at first processed her annoyance with them, while alone in her car afterward. Then, the light bulb went on and she realized that the two-way street applied to her also. She could have asserted herself-and they probably would have given her their attention.

I think about nature, and vacuums, and personal responsibility. In a different vein, from the time I woke this morning, there were messages, questions and calls to duty. I put my social group slightly first, with the Red Cross call and my job interspersed with the time spent in the group. You guessed it: The phone rang, twice, and I took the calls, getting back to the group with a brief description of the situation, so they knew it was somewhat urgent.

In the end, the emergency fizzled, the crew I had assembled went home and I was able to answer the unrelated texted question very simply and concisely, which made the questioner happy. Most times, life is a two-way street. Other times, it can seem like a three-branched artery.

The Road to Diamond, Day 258: Serendipity

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August 13, 2025- Whilst listening to the sous chef at a local cafe talk with another guest, I learned about the lead barista, who he regards as top of the line. I can say that I agree with him, especially in terms of her skill at preparing a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages, congeniality and careful attention to people.

He also mentioned that she has both interest and skill in a field which is the purview of another friend. This sparked thoughts of carefully connecting the two of them, over the next several weeks. It would solve a lot of looming issues for my entrepreneur friend and be another avenue for the talented young woman.

I joined a couple of Zoom calls for the Red Cross, this evening, and learned that the Administrators have reached out to the leaders of a remote area, north and west of the Grand Canyon, as a result of our efforts in helping those whose livelihoods were upended by the Dragon Bravo Fire that is still raging on the North Rim. Not only the small communities of northernmost Arizona, but also those nearby in Utah, have been underserved over the past several years. This will now be corrected. On the western side of the Canyon, other small, remote communities have asked for Red Cross help, in setting up a shelter system that can be reliable, in the event of disaster. Fire is a serendipitous friend, in that way.

It pays to be alert and prepared to make problem-solving connections.

The Road to Diamond, Day 256: Forward Motion

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August 11, 2025- After 46 years in education, I am still somewhat thrown off by questions about very technical issues. Nitpicky matters have just never really interested me, so my tendency has been to give them short shrift. There are times, though, when it’s necessary to get out the notebook and take careful stock of the particulars of things. Today was such a day.

Last night, I went through an online class on Red Cross pedagogy, of all things. Even though it’s better to look at anything academic in the light of day, I pursued it anyway. When it came time for assessment, the technical issues had not registered, and I decided to re-take the class-in the light of day.

So today, after Coffee Klatsch and some checking on the status of fires on the White Mountain Apache Nation, I went through the pedagogy class again, being more careful to take notes on the Course Manual segment. What is covered, and where, became more clear and I cleared the assessment with ease.

Since childhood, I have been hard-wired to primarily go forward, with goals and tasks. Letting self get stymied by technical issues or physical challenges has been an issue at times, but mostly it’s been “Forward, ho!” What is different now is that I am more inclined to plan things out more carefully; chalk that up to Hard Knocks University-and the grace of God. Ten or fifteen years ago, I might have put the re-take off for six months to a year-and it probably would have ended up on the Island of Lost Goals.

Now, I am getting satisfaction from each challenge met, no matter how great or small. Forward motion, more tempered by careful planning, remains among my greatest impetus.