How I Overcame Self-Absorption

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August 27, 2021-

There was a time when I bumped into a clearly visible barrier pole, whilst backing my car out of a space, at Breakheart Reservation, in my hometown of Saugus. My head was so far into a matter of such earthshaking importance, that I can’t even vaguely recall what it was. I remember the fender bender, though, and the mildly amused twelve-year-old kid who chuckled at my ignorance.

Mom and Dad didn’t raise us to ignore our surroundings, and I caught more than a few rounds of indignation, when I turned too far inward. Gradually, in the wider world, the core of my being, which loved my family and those around us, took focus. Penny came into my life, and we helped each other break out of our respective shells. Students, clients, by the hundreds, became my focus and between wife and children, I realized that my life actually mattered far more than I had thought. Aram became our responsibility and made sure, in turn, that I didn’t lapse into my former bubble.

There was a long eleven years, in which my wife was my primary responsibility. In the end, son and his crew, Penny’s family and my brothers were our primary support group. The cackling crows who castigated me for using the adjective “my”, when I referred to Penny, offered absolutely nothing in the way of help-save their mealy-mouthed ideological puffery. There were also the masses, who went about their business, but at least didn’t get in my way.

On my own, I had choices to make, and slowly shed the residue of self-absorption, once again. A few women came to me, hoping that perhaps they would be the next Penny. It didn’t happen, and life took a far wider turn. I almost deluded myself into thinking that one or two others might be the next Penny. That didn’t happen, either, and life took a wider turn, still. There were three things that propelled me out of my bubble, altogether.

The first was dealing with five people who were/are so intensely self-absorbed, in their own right, that I was constantly wondering what, if any, place there was in the world for me, or any other good soul who was just trying to live a good life. Four of these five are gone from my world now, banned for constantly magnifying every single mistake I made, ignoring any good thing I did and yet clawing at me for attention. The fifth at least thanks me for what has already been done. I thank them, though, for making me aware of all the times I was the same towards others.

Secondly, I found myself largely responsible, for the well-being of over 80 people in a storm shelter, in Alexandria, Louisiana, late last summer, during the daylight hours of a Red Cross operation. That is when my work never stopped, until wiser heads pointed out that the opposite of self-absorption is not complete other-immersion. Then came a more balanced view, that both my personal needs and those of others had equal importance. I also realized that being too deeply in the business of other people robs them of dignity.

Third, the full acceptance of others as complete human beings, beyond their physical trappings and even their personalities, has come about from our collective dealing with COVID and all the climate change-based events that we have faced, and will continue to face, long after I myself have left this earthly life. It takes me three to five seconds to recognize that a woman has pleasing features, that a child is precious, that anyone has an engaging nature.

There are things that are about to happen in this life, that make such an emergence from self-absorption more essential than ever. I look forward to them all.

Hot Spots

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August 16, 2021- I was originally supposed to spend today hiking along a road, to commemorate a friend’s passing, 37 years ago, Wednesday. The person who proposed this originally backed out, over the weekend, citing other obligations. It worked out fine for me, as I got to be with the groups of students with whom I will be working, for the most part, probably well into September.

The weekend brought hard news: There is a new Taliban government in Afghanistan, boding God knows what for women and girls; Haiti was clobbered by yet another severe earthquake, to be followed by a Tropical Storm, of as yet indeterminate strength; Delta continued on its merry path of death and destruction; the Sierra Nevada foothills continue to face the rapacious Dixie Fire. Here at Home Base, I can only continue to do what I’ve been doing- small charity here and there; safe hygiene and honouring the requests of businesses and institutions; promoting fire-safe spaces here and being ready, in case the call comes to go on Red Cross deployment.

We choose what hot spots in which we offer our services. With 7.6 billion people on the planet, there is no reason for any one person to have to do the lion’s share of relief work. I am constantly on the move, as it is, and have no feelings of regret for what I do. Learning to set boundaries, however, has been a most gratifying result of the struggles of the past three years.

Fits and Starts

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August 1, 2021- This is normally the hottest month of the year, even here in Arizona, where people expect heat, much of the time. This year’s monsoon, though, is more active than those of the last three years and there has been rain reported here in Prescott, just about every day since Independence Day-so Mother Nature heeded the fireworks. I will go tomorrow, with my hiking buddy, to Watson Lake and see how much the water levels have been affected by the rather generous precipitation.

Rain often comes during this time, in fits and starts. It could be dry for as long as two weeks, then rainy for almost as many days, and back to dry. My energy level tends to be the same, varying with the heat index, as one would expect. With the added vigilance about sun exposure, especially safeguarding the “little bit of heaven” on the left side of my face, I will limit the hike and other outside activity to an hour or less at a time-and be well protected.

August is saddled with the sobriquet, “Dog Days”, as this is the time of year when dogs are especially either enervated or aggravated by the heat and humidity. School starts up tomorrow, but as I have said earlier, my presence there this year will be limited somewhat-with more of an emphasis on Red Cross activities-if the powers that be in the local organization see fit to have me along to help out.

July Road Notes, Day 4: Poolside

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July 8, 2021, Grapevine– The birthday festivities having finished, Aram and I eased into our mornings, whilst Yunhee went to work. We did our part, later, with a Costco trip that garnered items we each needed-and a few belated birthday gifts.

I got word that another, equally important, event across the country had gone roughly at times, but ended well. So, too, did the final installment of an investment that has taken me three years of due diligence and getting past my own overthinking, to complete.

Aram and I went out to Terrawood’s relatively small, but comfortable pool area. There were about six other people in and around the pools, at the time we were there. The water is not deep- 4′ 6″, maximum. Nonetheless, I sat with my lower body in the water-taking care to not go in, as usual, because of the growth on my face being covered, both for protection and for the peace of mind of those around me.

There has been a tendency in me, all throughout adulthood, to be very watchful of children around water. It was a major area of my service to the Red Cross, when we lived in Phoenix, to help with Swim Safe events. Pool safety, in particular, is a huge concern-and not just in summer. So, here I was, being encouraging to the little ones, with their flotation devices attached, but not taking my eyes off them, for a second. A young girl, of about twelve, was equally vigilant, apparently being babysitter to at least two of the kids. As Aram did his laps and cardio, I was content to be a second pair of eyes.

It can’t be said enough: “Watch your kids around water!”

The Second Half

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July 1, 2021- The first six months of this year have produced some rather significant changes in my world. Chief among them was Mother’s changing her residence-thankfully of her own accord-after 66 years in the same house. With all of us pitching in, the gargantuan task was broken into a hundred fairly manageable pieces. Now, Mom is happily ensconced in a small, comfortable apartment, with her basic security set.

The other changes are more internal. I have jettisoned a few personal demons that, while not interfering in my life very much, did cause a certain tension to arise, unnecessarily, between me and certain people in the wider community. I have already noticed how much more relaxed things are, when I am in my favourite places around town.

There were, as always, journeys during the period January-June. One was not planned-but going to Massachusetts in May was never in question. Going to Carson City was a year overdue- one of my best friends, and her blessed children and grandchildren are like family to me.

The second half of 2021 will be similar, with most of July being on the road-again largely making up for the lost contacts of the pandemic year. I’m not worried about a variant-the masks and hand sanitizer will be with me, and I have been fully vaccinated. Variants will be around for decades to come, as they are with Ebola-and influenza. Life cannot and should not stop. August and September will mostly find me here in Prescott, save for a memorial hike on the Navajo Nation, on August 16 and a four-day visit to southern California, September 17-21.

In mid-August, I will determine the prudence of going to Europe, for four weeks in October, and plan accordingly, Much depends on any lingering quarantines at that time. November and December will again be Southwest-centric, with my serving as host, around Thanksgiving, hopefully attending a resumed Grand Canyon Baha’i Conference, around Christmas, and making a journey to southern New Mexico for a few days thereafter.

There will also be visits, at least once a month, to the Baha’i friends living along the Colorado River, in western Arizona, and always an eye towards getting up to Navajo and Hopi, as those areas open back up. The Red Cross is also opening its programs and services to in-person situations and meetings, starting within a few weeks, and I will remain open to helping in the schools, for special substituting activities.

Thus, the second half of this year will mirror, and expand upon, the first.

The Flow

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June 12, 2021- The past four days were my first attempt at administering a formal event, since 2013. Then, there was a dire emergency, a day or so after the horrific deaths of nineteen wildland firefighters with an ongoing wildfire emergency. I supervised a shelter for some 60 people, who had fled the fire zone, in the small communities of Yarnell and Peeples Valley, about 35 miles southwest of Prescott. This lasted but one night, as a national Red Cross team arrived, the next morning.

This time around, the task was to coordinate a camp for 14 teenagers, who are studying Baha’i teachings. It also involved tending to the needs of four adult tutors, five kitchen staff, two groundskeepers and a recurring visitor, whose skillsets actually came in handy a few times. Three members of the Bellemont School Committee also visited, and thankfully were helpful and anything but overbearing.

My management style, largely derived from watching my father-who was a middle manager, is to take a respectful interest in the activities of both clientele and staff, rolling up my sleeves, so to speak, in any area where needed. It was a pleasure to join the students’ devotionals, help in the kitchen when needed and keep an eye on the needs of individuals, both in terms of first aid and arranging comfortable sleeping facilities. This last is especially critical, as the nighttime temperature differential between the Phoenix area, where most of the people present live, and Bellemont is 50 degrees. Many of the visitors had no clear concept of this critical difference, despite being told in advance, by the camp organizers.

That the camp’s activities achieved a smooth flow is a tribute both to the organizers and to our group’s commitment to the success of the camp, as well as to the maturity of the teenagers. It was a resoundingly reaffirming start to a very full summer.

Dereliction

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February 6, 2021-

There are many people still in my life, and several causes that seek attention. I gather that this is true of just about everyone. The question then arises: Is there a point at which being oneself and prioritizing one cause, or group of people, over another constitutes dereliction of duty?

Being an empath, I feel other people’s energy very strongly. That doesn’t explain the underlying reasons for that energy. Only the person feeling it can divulge those. I feel it even more so, when the energy is collective. So, to all those who have expressed the view that a person ought commit to one organization, activity or community, I say godspeed. I will help each organization as alignment allows. My own energy focus allows for a modicum of time spent in virtual meetings- knowing that, as with any human endeavour, there are those who would be on Zoom, or Microsoft Teams, 24/7-and again, godspeed to them. My greater energy, though, is spent away from the computer.

For the time being, that is, for the next two weeks, my priority is helping a couple of schools in dealing with COVID-related staff shortages. Some time will be spent on Red Cross classes, and with a small, but spirited, group of college students who are earnestly planning sustainability activities. There is also the 50% chance that jury duty will transpire, towards the end of this month.

Dereliction of duty is clearly defined, when it comes to parenting, supervision of children in a school setting or service in the public realm. It is less clear, when it comes to the matters of those generally self-sustaining adults who are suffering emotionally or spiritually. This gray area is also on my mind and in my heart, and occupies some of my time, on a case by case basis. Thankfully, most such people are appreciative of any time and energy that others give, as it at least validates that their situation is important to someone.

The Year of Living Furtively

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December 31, 2020-

Some of the hardest losses of this voracious year were two of the last. It pains me, especially, when two people who are meant to be together are separated by death, however temporarily. Perhaps because I know, so well, how it feels. I know the self-doubts, the second guessing, the “if only” moments that dog the surviving spouse. I also know that the way to resilience, for the one left behind, is to embrace that which makes one special, as an individual, with double the intensity.

I learned, only this afternoon, of the passing of one half of such a pair. Jeff had struggled with his cancer, constantly surrounded, enveloped with the love that only his indomitable wife and daughters could offer. Others among us tried to help, some offering respite care; some, like myself, offering remedies and a listening ear for our friends, whose shop has become such a vibrant gathering place, in a town that is still in the throes of becoming a community.

Thirty-six friends and family members, ranging in age from 21 to 100, have passed to the next realm, in this year of living furtively, Some were fixtures of my childhood; others, I had the pleasure of knowing for only a few years. Some, I only met once or twice, but the empath in me let them make an indelible impression. That impression will last long. It comes with the nature of my beast.

It is now 6:15 p.m. , and it is still twilight. Solstice being past for over a week, daylight lengthens a smidgen at a time. That is fitting; this year has seemed at times to be made of a darkness that is interminable. Coronavirusdisease 2019 has dominated much of the time and energy of the vast majority of people across the globe. Most of us have not been stricken with the ailment, but far too many others have. Those who have not actually contracted it, have been suspect of such-every time we sneeze, or emit a wet cough, into the crook of our elbow, or appear somewhere without a face mask. All but four of those friends and family, to whom I alluded above, died of COVID-related factors-especially pneumonia.

Dealing with the pandemic became complicated, with racial incidents, some of which were exacerbated by crimes of ignorance and by people continuing to talk past one another. Demonstrations muddied the water of our national response to the pandemic, especially in light of bans on gatherings for worship or for bidding loved ones farewell. Too many of those loved ones died alone, after having spent their last days and months in solitude. Demonstrations were, in most cases, necessary to the public weal. So, too, however, were gatherings of worship, so deeply-rooted in the American psyche-and not just in Christian communities. Dineh and Hopi friends missed their traditional ceremonial gatherings. We Baha’is also have made do with virtual connection.

The two demonstrations upon which I happened, featured participants who were uniformly masked-even among counterprotestors. The two church-based memorial services I attended featured physical distancing and/or uniform face masking. In these instances, subsequent infection was either minimal or nonexistent. Needless to say, I have exercised extreme caution when out of Home Base, since having had bronchitis (non-COVID), in mid-February.

My usual taking to the open road took a back seat, for the most part, in 2020. There were two deployments with the Red Cross, to Louisiana and Dallas. Another journey took me back to the Dallas area, for Thanksgiving and my 70th Birthday, with care taken in airports and elsewhere, to not become part of the problem. The joy of just being with my small family unit was worth the trip, as was the drive to Phoenix, three weeks later, for a mini-visit.

Equally salubrious, however, has been the use of technology, in connecting with my Faith community, with the Red Cross community and with wider spiritual gatherings. I have learned much and shared much. This aspect of technology can only serve to enhance our direct physical encounters, post-pandemic. I know that I need not be isolated from those in this community, when further afield again, towards summer and autumn of the coming year.

Finally, in reaching seventy, I reached full social security, and look at the culmination of my teaching career. Five days a week, out of personal necessity, is in my rear view mirror. Work in the coming Spring semester, will be in view of service to the schools and more discretionary, in terms of schedule.

This year, now grumbling to a close, has accented the small-How needful it is to revitalize memory, when it comes to the humble password or the most routine of courtesies! How crucial it is, to rekindle acceptance of differences, reminding ourselves how dull it would be for everyone to be forced into the same train of thought or the same world view. Exclusivity, as much as its proponents tell themselves it is necessary, is a dead end.

Let not one’s conservatism, or progressivism, lead to that dead end. Let 2020 be what comes to an end, without one’s viewpoint joining it.

Most Essential

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October 22,2020-

This year was supposed to be one in which I spent a goodly amount of time wending my way around the Pacific Northwest, Canada and the northern tier of states, from Maine to Montana.

Instead, COVID, hurricanes and just a general sense of being present here at Home Base came to the fore. I am grateful for all the experiences, from close to home ( in some local schools and as an online host for Baha’i events) and in Hurricane Alley (Red Cross disaster responses in Louisiana and Texas).

Nowhere do I feel more useful, though, than when making sure that little ones are guided to the right, safe place-especially at the end of the day, when it’s bus or parent pick-up time, That has happened twice in three days, just because it’s all new to our five-year-olds. It breaks my heart that they should feel ashamed for needing help with learning this routine.

The most essential thing is for human beings to feel safe, especially in what, for them, are novel experiences.

Heat of A False Summer

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October 15, 2020, Valle, AZ-

Mid-October used to be called “Indian Summer”, owing to the hot weather that seemed to just hang on, for days on end, even though it’d been Autumn for almost a month, and the leaves had mostly changed colour and fallen.

With our language showing more sensitivity, these days, perhaps “False Summer” would be a better phrase. “Aug-tober” may be a bit excessive, as we do see cooler temps, during the second half of the month.

My schedule has shown signs of heating up- a full week of work awaits, next week. A wildfire, south of Prescott, may or may not lead to my spending the weekend helping in a Red Cross shelter. In a couple of weeks, I am slated for jury duty-during Election Day and its aftermath. It’s a good thing that my ballot is filled out and safely inside the County Recorder’s office.

I am here, in this small roadside village, for an overnight stay before hiking the second of northern Arizona’s Red Mountains. This one will be an easy hike, and a geological wonderland to explore.

Valle’s lone motel is comfortable and has an engaging, cordial staff. The restaurant has one floor person (server and cashier) and one cook, yet they manage to get food ordered and to table-or take-out counter, in less time than some far better staffed establishements. The desk clerk is a back-up server. This is what a community dedicated to serving travelers does, when decisions made by higher-ups lead to staffing shortages.

President Trump is said to be headed to Prescott on Monday. I will be working at a school, while he’s there. Hope it is a safe event for everyone involved-as I hope for each event, between now and the inauguration of whoever wins on November 3.