The Road to Diamond, Day 8: The Right Thing

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December 6, 2024- Forty-four years ago today, I met a woman whose mantra was “I just want to die with my boots on.” That she did; despite being hobbled by a neurological disease, Penny taught whoever would listen, about the basics of Baha’i, almost until the day of her passing.

This afternoon, three dozen people paid last respects to another stalwart spiritual teacher. Lynne Elliott was a bright light, and brought a sense of hope to anyone she met. That her extended family came to the services, from a long distance, speaks volumes about her force of character. A footnote: Normally, only one police unit is available to escort a funeral procession. For Lynne’s, there were four units that showed.

These two ladies were examples of how the right thing can be done. Thousands more, around the world, are taking up the mantle of the heroic figures of the past 180 years of Baha’i teaching, and thousands of years in the annals of the great Teachers and their followers. It is more than merely speaking truth to power.

My dearest friend mentioned about taking on extra responsibilities, once a certain training is complete. I was asked about a seeming increase in my own responsibilities, here at Home Base I. It is all a matter of combining effective use of time, with making full use of technology. I can do most of my tasks for the Baha’i Faith online. There are some that I will do in person, while I am here, and the rest will be accomplished virtually-even from other parts of North America, or from the Philippines. The main thing is to keep eyes on the most important, and to maintain flexibility.

This evening, that flexibility was rewarded by a Recognition Dinner, for those who have helped in the Solid Rock Soup Kitchen. We were treated to a fabulous ham & turkey dinner, and serenaded by one of Prescott’s best choruses-the Prescott High School Advanced Ensemble, offering six different Christmas tunes.

Doing the right thing begets other right things.

Splurge

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November 24, 2024- This evening, we Baha’is celebrated the life of ‘Abdu’l-Baha, as the day which He allowed as a day to honour the Covenant, or agreement, between Baha’u’llah and His followers, and by extension His life as the Center of that Covenant. He did not want an excess of attention on His life and accomplishments, other than what He was able to show us, as an example of how to live.

I splurged a bit on the refreshments for this event, always anticipating a crowd. When a smaller group shows, and there is a lot left over, there are plenty of avenues for sharing the excess, so in the end, it is money well spent. Coffee Klatsch and the Soup Kitchen are tomorrow, and most of the food left over will be shared at those events. The rest goes in the freezer, while I am in Texas for Thanksgiving and my birthday.

There are some things on which it never hurts to splurge. Refreshments for special events are often in that category. Help for the poor, as a friend in the Bicol region of the Philippines is offering now, in the wake of the Quad Typhoons, is another such path. Love for one’s children, which my friend, K, showers in spades, is up there. Love for people in general, and a certain person in particular, is at the top of the list.

Like the water in a tsunami, that which you give comes flooding back, though not in a damaging way.

A Level Field

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November 4, 2024- I went down to the Solid Rock Fellowship’s Monday night Soup Kitchen, and took my place on the serving line, dispensing green salad. Next to me, dispensing Cole slaw, was the Superintendent of Prescott Unified School District. I’ve known him for about twelve years, when he was an Assistant Principal, then a Principal, then a member of the District’s Governing Board, before stepping down to take the Superintendency.

A few tongues wagged: “What’s he running for?” My take: Clark is Clark, a genuinely nice man and he’s not running for anything. He wanted to help and so he showed up, the same as me. I would not be surprised if, schedule permitting, he becomes a regular.

This is the town in which I have thrived, for fourteen years. I will likely be giving up my residence, next year, to be with a very special woman, in another special place. That will not diminish the importance in my life, of this city with a level playing field. Self-important people, by and large, do not fare well here, at the local level. A state office seeker, or two, may prevail, by dint of their party affiliation, and it’s likely that a prominent self-important figure will carry the day, here, in a national race, but for the most part, self-promotion does not impress the Prescottonian.

We tend to be there for one another-be it in feeding and sheltering the destitute, working across all manner of ideological lines to look out for our neighbours and turning out at city and town council meetings, to make our voices heard. More often than one thinks, the clamouring of the citizenry has led grifters and gougers to give up on their plans, and even to leave town.

It has been a genuine comfort to feel ever welcome here. The community in the Philippines, where I recently spent six weeks, seems similar-The friends there are rallying around a mentally ill person, tying family members together with appropriate resources. No one deserves to fall through the cracks.

Labour and Love

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September 2, 2024- My friend across the waters affirmed that I would be cheerfully greeted, when I arrive next week. There is much with which she hopes I can assist, and with that I’ll have no hesitation. As with anything else, it’ll be a day by day process, each day bringing its joys, some plateaus, and a few periods of stop and weigh the best course of action.

Today saw my last time helping with the Soup Kitchen, until I get back. Some of the clients and the chief of volunteers told me I’d be missed, and there will be times that I will be thinking of them all and hoping things are going smoothly. I will take what I’ve learned here and do what I can to apply the skills to tasks that find me, whilst in the Philippines.

My friend and I talked of our departed spouses, and that though they are missed, they send energy to us, that we may continue in labours of love, designed to help the suffering and the destitute. We both trust that the departed are ever with us, unseen yet seeing; intermittently heard, yet always listening; somewhat felt, and ever deeply feeling. After all, it was not that long ago that Penny let me know that “we” (the spirits) had brought my friend and I together.

The remaining tasks here at Home Base I include two short substituting jobs, getting Sportage serviced-even though it will sit idly, in a safe place, for 5-7 weeks, and tending to details relative to the administrative duties I acquired last week. Each is a labour of love and each, properly carried out, will both keep my mind at lease, as to this homefront, whilst I am abroad and make things easier to resume upon my return.

Some, on both sides of the ocean, have expressed their views as to how events should transpire during the next month or so. To them, I say “Live your own life. Friend and I know what our primary tasks are, and those will take precedence. Anything else will happen naturally, or not at all.”

The Light That Beckons

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August 5, 2024, Flagstaff- The ample supply of food, that I brought to the Soup Kitchen this evening, was distributed by the kitchen staff and the diners themselves, in short order. It always turns out that way. When there is a gathering on Saturday or Sunday, with lots of food left over, there is ever a place for it, on Monday evening. The unhoused can always divide it into portions for the week, and most of them have coolers, keeping the food safe from contamination. Some have access to hotplates that they can plug into their vehicles, or random locations that give grace to people who want to warm up their meals.

Much was made, in some circles, of the summer swoon that the global financial markets experienced, Thursday through today. I have learned to let the traders do their thing, and that the nest egg will recover, usually in short order. It’s best to do what I have to do, day to day, being frugal when necessary (which is much of the time) and being gracious to the people in my heart, whenever possible.

Today started with a short hike, truncated by the presence of mosquitos and by our respective schedules. The heat was not a factor, as early morning sprinkles and cloud cover kept things mild. Fain Park is fairly muddy in spots, but has some interesting connections between neighbourhoods, a pleasant fishing pond and a display of mining equipment from the 1900s-30s. One can get a good workout there, with a proper time allotment.

The Light of the Divine beckoned me all day, and after the hike, I headed to a coffee group, enjoying the company of the group of seniors who gather each Monday, to kibbitz and weigh in on affairs, local and global, large and small. From there, I checked in with the crew at Wildflower, for a late breakfast. All is well in that “Happy Place”, to which all are welcome. Back at Home Base, I got as good a set of directions as can be expected, to two places where I will make stops tomorrow: Gravesites of two long-time friends, whose funerals found me elsewhere, and so still deserve honour and gratitude for all the friendship and advice they gave, over four decades.

This evening, after my soup kitchen duties were done, a drive to Bellemont let me drop off a couple of items for the good of the order, and ascertain that all is well on the property. No animals being encountered, I was a half hour, there and out.

Thus do I find myself at Relax Inn, in the midst of Old Route 66, reveling in the fading light, writing a message to my most beloved on Earth and showing grace to the Internet that keeps going on and off. (Such is the way, in days of monsoon activity.) The light of the four sacred peaks beckons, for the next few days, so I will rest well tonight.

Transitory

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June 24, 2024- As I spoke with friends at a coffee klatsch, this morning, and at the Soup Kitchen, this evening, it occurred to me that little about the next six weeks is even remotely cut and dried. Routine stuff, like tomorrow’s bloodwork at the VA, could reveal things that are life-altering, or they could give me a clean bill of health, in two weeks. Wednesday’s flight to Boston is most likely to be uneventful, even given the early Phoenix-St. Louis leg and the long layover at Lambert. Traffic from Logan Airport to Bedford should not be all that bad, given the after rush hour driving time.

From there, everything about the time with, or about, my mother is a cypher, up to God alone. The right thing, by everyone, will happen. It may well, however, have a domino effect. Doing right by her comes first, though, before jumping back on a plane, July 1; before being at Bellemont from the 7th to the 10th; conceivably, even before having my annual physical exam on the 11th or going up towards Carson City and the Northwest, a day later. Those affected by any change in plans need to understand that, and not be bothered by it.

This is all about a woman who gave of herself, unfailingly, for the twenty-nine years of her youngest son’s life; for the duration of recovery from the tragedy that nearly killed another of her children; for the effort it took to get her eldest, me, to find the right spiritual path and moral compass point-and turn away from a destructive road.

She will have all she needs, of my time and energy, for the duration of her transition. It’s just that simple, and just that complex.

GPS Goobers

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December 4, 2023- Dutifully programming my Google Maps, for a friend’s medical appointment, I picked up friend and headed towards the designated locale. When we got to the spot, we found…….a gated community, a cul-de-sac and an overpass above a desert wash. A call to the provider earned us grace-and the names of cross streets,- 20 miles away, on the other side of the city. The algorithm interpreted the directional point in the street address, literally. It just got the wrong city. I double-checked my entry, to see if I had given the wrong information. No, the goober was AI.

We got to the proper location, after 30 minutes, and friend was seen by the gracious provider. All worked out well, and I got us back to Prescott, in time for me to help out at the soup kitchen. That was fortuitous, as they were short-staffed. It wasn’t that hard, though. I was the white rice guy and there was no need to wipe the tables afterward.

Goobers are a nuisance, though, and it would be a good idea if there were a feedback mechanism for Google Maps. This is not the first time that I’ve been steered wrong-and I know that others have gone through the same rigmarole. Of course, another option is to research the location from home. I did this before going to the Philippines, Newfoundland, Vancouver Island and Florida-after finding that I should have done so, before going to Paris and Brussels, nearly ten years ago. I will definitely do my homework, before next Fall’s international journey.

Crossed signals are not just limited to GPS and maps. Sometimes, in the past, I have gotten ahead of myself and not even been grounded in my feelings, before opening my mouth-or writing a message. Nowadays, checking my facts and emotional intelligence before speaking or writing, has generally made life a lot easier. In a few situations, this is tricky, but if I have to muddle through, that’s just how it has to be. I have a few friends who want to be given space, and they get it. When they are ready, I know they will reach out. Others are always happy to connect, and they bring me joy.

Gooberism can be avoided, with healthy self-checks, first thing in the morning, and periodically throughout the day.