Tag Archives: Twelfth Day of Ridvan

The Road to Diamond, Day 154: No Worries

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving

May 1, 2025- I woke this morning with a minor headache. After drinking a liter of water, the headache was gone. I greeted the month of May with a renewed sense of purpose. Staying extra-hydrated is a key part of that, as the weather will soon warm up.

As I get ready for a visit back east and down south, over the next 2.5 weeks, there are priorities to be set, but also a need to have a path open to electronically assist those here who contact me by Messenger and IM while I am away. The need to be acknowledged does not stop at the city limits or state line, so I have time to assist some friends who seem to have nowhere else to turn and point them towards those here who can help-and probably be of more help than I am when at Home Base I. For that matter, I have done the same for people in other parts of the country and in other countries, whilst here. That, to me, is one of the prime purposes of the digital realm.

There were about twenty of us who celebrated the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, marking the 162nd anniversary of the departure from Baghdad, by Baha’ullah and his entourage. They would cross the mountains and desert of Anatolia, modern-day Turkey, going by land and sea to what is now Istanbul. It would take them a little over three months. We celebrate, because we know that they made the journey successfully, joyfully, with a sense that their journey was in service to the Divine. Every place that Baha’ullah was sent, ostensibly in exile and as a punishment, was made better by His presence.

That is the reason why, on this day, and in this Day, I feel no worries. No matter how difficult things may sometimes get, the right thing happens in the end.

Eastbound and Back, Day 4: Making the Time

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Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, distraction issues, Inspiration, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 2, 2024, Clarion, PA- The housekeeper rapped on the door, ever so lightly. “Mister, it is time. You must check out!” Yes, it was indeed 11 a.m., and she probably had fifteen rooms to clean, in four hours, or something along those lines. I did want to get going, as well, so the last post I was writing, before this one, was set aside, until I could get to a coffee house, in downtown Goshen, and everything was put carefully in the right bags and brought to Sportage- in three minutes’ time. The Super 8 was in good repair and she gave me a clean room, last night, so I’ll not quibble.

As I drove along Main Street, Goshen, looking for a parking spot-Voila, there it was, on the other side of the street-and right in front of the recommended coffee house. As I signaled a left turn, into the space went the oncoming vehicle. Hmmm- no sense getting annoyed, so I turned left onto the next side street-and, there was Electric Brew, which bills itself as “Goshen’s original coffee house”. I found a spot, right in front of it, so grace given was grace returned. I don’t know about the other place, but Electric Brew is an excellent coffee house/deli, with a most congenial and helpful team of baristas and servers. I was able to easily finish and post about the Twelfth Day of Ridvan.

The day continued, into and across Ohio, with plenty of opportunities to make people feel seen and heard. Mostly, it was a matter of holding doors open for those coming through, or coming in behind me. I thrive on not being anonymous or invisible, so I am sure other people are largely the same.

There wasn’t much else going on, in this very familiar portion of the trip, but I changed the route just a little-going on I-80, in stead of the Pennsylvania Turnpike. That led me to another Motel 6, this one a bit more upscale, in amenities, though not in price. I had the pleasure of dining at Cozumel Authentic Mexican Restaurant-and found it as good as many such places in the Southwest. It isn’t often that Motel 6 even has an eatery in the same building-but there we are. The room I scored is huge-spare, but with a fine bed, and HUGE.

I find it always pays to make the time for doing things carefully-big or small.

Eastbound and Back, Day 3: “When the Stars Begin to Fall”

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

May 1, 2024, Goshen, IN- With those words, from the immortal gospel song, George, the Director of the Welcome Center at the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, Illinois sent our spirits soaring. What a glorious morning it had already been, on as afternoon progressed, I was delighted to join the the celebration of the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, commemorating the day, in 1863m when Baha’u’llah and His entourage left the Garden of Ridvan, outside Baghdad, and began the long journey to what is now Istanbul.

I was a bit under-dressed for this occasion, yet the message on my tee was proper: “Created noble”. We all are, don’t you know. I was honoured to be able to convey gratitude to George, after the ceremony, as refreshments were served in Foundation Hall, under the glorious auditorium, where prayers are said aloud on special occasions, such as this, but are mostly offered in silence, by members of all Faiths- and positive thoughts by those of no Faith. I was delighted as well to meet, in person, the distinguished long-time Choral Director of the House, Van Gilmer, whose music has enkindled so many of our spirits, over the past five decades.

This is a phone camera-only journey, my digital camera being given a rest, in advance of a heavy schedule, the rest of this year. So, here are a few scenes of the “Mother Temple of the West”, as ‘Abdu’l-Baha described it, accompanied by scenes of Wilmette’s majestic Gillson Park, which neighbours the House grounds, and of beloved Lake Michigan.

Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Lilacs in bloom, west garden of the Baha’i House of Worship, Wilmette, IL

Wallace Bowl, the amphitheater of Gillson Parl, Wilmette

Lake Michigan, from Gillson Park.

The Baha’i House of Worship, from Wilmette Harbor

So proceeded a glorious day. I felt a bit of disconnect, between my physical state and consciousness- though thankfully not quite on the order described by the author. Salman Rushdie, following his having been attacked by a young man during a ceremony he was attending, a few years back. I felt, all day, as if I was moving in a different realm, while being fully aware of, and connected with, those around me.

Nonetheless, I was able to render some service, during the visit, to guests who were at the Temple for the first time, and to convey thanks and appreciation to George and Van, for the excellent program. After leaving the sacred site, I found traffic along I-94 southbound, relatively light. It took about 45 minutes to get from the Dempster turnoff to the Ohio Street exit. After the I-55 interchange, things lightened up even more and there was virtually no one using the Skyway.

It was a tired, but happy, Schroeder family who greeted me for a short dinner respite and some catching up, from my last visit. Things were bustling and chaotic, for Val and Sparky, so I did not stay long, once dinner was done. I was also dragging a bit, by then, so the choice was made to settle into the Super 8, in this fine community, about an hour southeast of Mishawaka. Other friends here are also indisposed, so it will be on to Ohio and Pennsylvania, tomorrow afternoon. I am sorry to have to pass up Indianapolis this time, as well, yet it is critical to be where Mom is, by Saturday.

Let’s close, for now, with this rendition of “When The Stars Begin to Fall”, by the ’60s inspirational group, The Seekers.

Eastward Bound and Back, Day 2: To Chicago, Sensibly

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

April 30, 2024, Glenview, IL- The traffic to this small blue-collar suburb of the Windy City was mercifully light and free-flowing. Yes, it is a Tuesday night, and well-past rush hour, but no matter. In years past, I have simply jumped into the scrum that congregates at the confluence of I-55 and I-94, and threaded the needle, until we all flowed, mile by mile, to our destinations: Some, to the Loop; others to Wrigleyville, Navy Pier, whatever memorials may exist to Studs Terkel and Mike Royko and I, to the Baha’i House of Worship, in Wilmette. Tonight, though, with money in my E-Z Pass till, I took the I-294.

The day began in Miami, Oklahoma. After a deep sleep and hot shower, at Deluxe Inn, a short drive through the remaining sliver of northeast Oklahoma brought me into Missouri. Gassing up, at a Kum n’Go, I saw EMTs and police responding to a crash involving a motorcyclist. The cashier said that intersection was particularly bad, for such accidents. Ironically, it is just up the road from a major motorcycle service center/biker hangout-and across Highway 43 from Mercy Hospital. Next, Norma’s Diner offered a filling, if ordinary, brunch, in quiet ambiance, and I was on my way out of Joplin, a bit late, towards noon.

Most of my day was spent driving, up I-44, then north on the 270, with gas-ups and rest areas the main breaks. A tired, bored young man staffed the Zephyr station, in Ballwin, northwest of St. Louis, where I re-fueled both Sportage, and myself, at the mid-point of the day. The bridge across the Mississippi, a short time later, revealed a Father of Waters that is at a disturbingly muddy, low level. There was scant activity at an Illinois rest area, just south of Bloomington, though the picnic tables along a get-up-and-stretch path are imaginatively done up with mock Midwest town business fronts, as covers. I was glad to have gotten up and stretched. Dinner, a short time later, was broccoli sprouts, with protein from a Thornton’s rotisserie. (Thornton’s is Illinois’ version of Sheetz, or Raceway.)

So now, I am in a secure, quiet Motel 6. They left the light on, and the bed looks new and comfortable. Tomorrow will be the Twelfth Day of Ridvan, so I will put on my “Created Noble” tee, and head over to the House of Worship, a short seven or eight mile drive, for what has become an annual, journey-affirming visit. The Temple, and, by extension, Wilmette are collectively salubrious.

Good night, all.

May, and I’m Not Away

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Posted by on in collaborating, Education, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving

May 1, 2018, Prescott-

There are 3 1/2 weeks left in our academic year.  I have two days off left- Tomorrow, for a Baha’i Holy Day- the Twelfth Day of Ridvan (more at that time) and a dental appointment, in two weeks’ time.  Otherwise, weekdays will find us finishing what we started, for our four remaining students.

I won’t leave the state of Arizona until Memorial Day weekend and another “Where’s Waldo?”month.  There is so much yet to do and to thoroughly enjoy, in the meantime, that I am hard put to make preliminary arrangements for June.  You know, though, that I’ll get ‘er done, in plenty of time.

I’ll be back in Tempe, on Saturday, for a daylong Baha’i conference.   Sunday will be spent reconnecting with a few long-lost friends, and honouring a very special young lady, on the cusp of her high school graduation.  Mother’s Day weekend means Prescott Valley’s 40th anniversary.  I may also head to Tucson, to see an ailing friend, if he’s up for a visit.  The third weekend will be mostly Baha’i business, planning and prepping for the summer months.

One of my friends here has posted about making a Vision Board.  I might try my hand at that, either next week or the following.  It’d be good to do this in the presence of our peer tutors in the classroom, as it might inspire them to do the same.

May is sweet, hot (at least after this coming Saturday) and a time of culmination.  I intend to truly savour the blessed days.