November 19, 2024- So says Kate, the adolescent daughter of a pediatric surgeon and an intelligence operative, to her mother, after hugging her father, after he’d been attacked by the father of one of his patients. This began the second episode of “Lioness”.
Love doesn’t always come easily and even the deepest is not always requited. We humans always need to have free will, before any kind of attachment or commitment can be made. I am no different, in that regard. There are those whom I have placed in the categories of friend, or extended sibling, who once wished that I would offer a different, more intimate role in my life.
Then, there are situations where mutual love exists, but the life experiences of one or both parties serve as blocks to the free expression of that love. A fear of commitment may follow the sudden death of a spouse, after which there was no time for grieving, for processing, for closure. Compound that by the incomplete grieving of one’s children, and the wariness is multiplied.
The real deal, in this set of circumstances, places the needs of the loved one, and the loved one’s family, front and center. Nothing changes, in the lover’s self-concept. Alternative plans are prepared, just in case, but the communication does not stop. Life goes on, in every other avenue of endeavour, while every effort continues to help the beloved achieve dreams and goals. There is wide latitude given, in the hope that the grieving over the prior loss can resume, and become complete. There is a standing offer of emotional and spiritual support.
July 14, 2024, Carson City- There is much that one does for love, in this life, that would not otherwise be on one’s personal agenda. Parents and grandparents most often know this. So do caretakers of disabled spouses or elderly parents. Teachers and coaches also do, to some extent, though their personal agendas are wrapped within their callings.
This goes well beyond the obvious things, like bathing and dressing those who are unable to do so for themselves, or watching small children who are playing outside, or in a public space. It extends to those who “hold their noses and play yet another round” of a game one finds tiresome or even irritating. It becomes, at its level best, an exercise in detachment.
Thus did a friend spend time with a beloved child. I joined them, finding actually a mild amusement in the game, which is more than a bit whimsical. Such is childhood, on occasion, and rightly so. There is more than enough preparation for adulthood that faces today’s children, and at an earlier age-despite what pundits and commentators say about delayed adolescence. There is that too, of course, and the rub is that someone has to be the mature decision maker and social actor. When an adult-even a parent-is in the midst of delayed adolescence, sometimes the child(ren) have to step in. I have seen this in a great number of cases, over the years. Children, in such instances, are out on a limb, and do the best they can-but they don’t have all the tools necessary to hold things together.
Grandparents are in a very special position. There are jokes made about being able to send the kids home, at the end of a day, but there is no love quite like that of Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, Nonna, Aba, Bump or Meemaw. It is, in its essence, a reflection of the deep love that is held for one’s adult children, that the thought of them not succeeding, of them suffering the injury or loss of their offspring is beyond the pale.
Being a grandparent in waiting, I understand this concept, and am glad to just be able to dote on those children and youths of other friends and relatives-until such time as my own grandkids arrive-and even then, devotion is unlimited.
January 12, 2024, Ghost Ranch- Have you ever pondered our connections to Nature? Have you ever pondered just how well you understand self? These questions were raised at the pre-breakfast coffee table, as five of us decided that lack of connectivity to the Internet was hardly worthy of sapping our spirits-or our thought processes.
My connection to Nature has led me to the forest, the desert, the tall-grass prairie-and the ocean-almost since I learned to walk. Understanding myself has been a lengthier, and sometimes thornier, process. The key, I have noticed, is applying unconditional love to self-thus opening the door to understanding why I had certain emotional baggage,and making it easier to rid myself of it. I also recognized that I couldn’t, in good faith, claim to have unconditional love for others, unless I had it for myself first.
The Baha’i traditions teach us that we are all connected to those around us, progressively through family, community, nation, species and life form, then to all forms of energy. We are connected to visible and invisible, Earthbound and universal. The search for evidence of these connections is what has fueled most, if not all, voyages, experiments and social movements, since the discovery of fire, and perhaps earlier. There is, in a place of unconditional love, only unity, only understanding. Neither of these mean acceptance of injustice, marginalization and unconditional self-denial. The Creator did not intend for one person,or group, to lord it over all others. Indeed, Baha’u’llah writes, in The Hidden Words: ” O Son of Spirit! The best beloved of all things in My sight is justice…..”. Justice springs forth from truly unconditional love.
Later in the day, a co-worker asked about my late wife, and how I had adjusted to her passing, as he had more recently experienced the same type of loss. He asked about my recently beginning a friendship with another woman, implying that he found hope from my experience. As I have mentioned earlier, my spirit guides, of whom Penny is definitely one, have let me know that they approve of this new friendship, having arranged the spiritual energy that led to our meeting.
I learned, a while back, that when one tries to force a connection or relationship, that is when the tie is impaired, or severed. I have done such a thing, and have had it done to me. Letting each person be who their best self is, even helping her/him realize that best self, constitutes the best manifestation of unconditional love. This is perhaps the greatest realization coming from my time here at Ghost Ranch.
September 18, 2023, De Queen, AR- “Sit wherever you want, hun. What can I get you to drink, my love?” Each person who came into Huddle House, in Corinth, this morning was greeted thus endearingly by the lead server, Ryanne- and what better way is there to start a Monday morning? She recounted to me, at table, that her morning had not exactly been a time of sweetness and light. She was not, however, about to let before-work woes ruin her day at the diner, or anyone else’s. As she worked, calls came that conveyed the message that solutions to the mishaps were in progress. I get the sense that her attitude towards life generates such positive outcomes.
The next stop, on a horseshoe-shaped ramble, was Tupelo- birthplace of Elvis Presley. Though I did not make a stop at the King’s boyhood home, getting the ambiance of the place and a sense of how it affected his musical trajectory came from stops in downtown and at Ballard Park, in midtown Tupelo. There is a tolerance of individuality in Tupelo- borne out by the boutique, Main Attraction, where I purchased a latte from a flamboyant, but rather soft-spoken entrepreneur- whose main wares were women’s clothing and New Age items, such as Buddha tea mugs and incense burners. There was also this mural, honouring the spirit of the region’s indigenous Chickasaw people.
Mural in downtown Tupelo
There are scattered memorials to the area’s Confederate dead, but these are tempered by acknowledgement of the contributions of African-Americans, including this marker at Tupelo National Battlefield. The battle that took place there, in 1862, set the way for both the Federal occupation of Vicksburg and Sherman’s March to the Sea, by disrupting Confederate supply lines.
Honouring the brigade of United States Colored Troops, for its efforts at the Battle of Tupelo.
The Lee County Courthouse, like others in mid-sized southern towns, has its dome. This construction feature is designed to convey the majesty of law. That majesty has come hard, only gradually overcoming the resistance of many residents to a more inclusive community ethos.
Lee County Courthouse, Tupelo
The Deep South is changing, though, and I felt only welcome and conviviality on this initial swing through the heartland of the Civil Rights struggle. Ballard Park, where a lone Hispanic woman was jogging while pushing her infant in a stroller and feeding the gaggles of Canadian geese that dominate the south shore of the lake, is a case in point.
South Shore of Ballard Lake, Tupelo.
At some point in the not-too-distant future, I will make a music-centered return visit, and the actual Elvis Presley Lake, as well as his boyhood home, will be part of that itinerary. There is resistance in the Universe to my being on the road, though, epitomized by the current financial downturn, so I have to be patient and perhaps focus more on working, to rebuild my nest egg. A lot of people have goals that face similar straits; yet on we go.
Despite having those thoughts, the road continued-to Philadelphia, MS, scene of the murders of three Civil Rights activists, in the “Freedom Summer” of 1964. At that time in my life, a revulsion towards authoritarian Communism existed side by side with an equally strong conviction that African-Americans were being grossly denied full citizenship, especially in the South, but also in my hometown, north of Boston, where few Black people were allowed to live, at the time. Debates on the subject were civil, yet I was regarded as somewhat naive in “the way life really is”. How times have changed!
I felt a rather dark energy, approaching Philadelphia. It was almost as if the ghosts of the murdered were trying to communicate. When I got to downtown, and parked my vehicle, beginning a short stroll, I was greeted warmly by a well-dressed gentleman, who somehow recognized me from who knows where. He shortly went about his business, and I made note of Neshoba County Courthouse, and the water tower that draws from a reservoir near where the three men were buried. Downtown, for the most part, was quiet.
Downtown Philadelphia, MSNeshoba County Courthouse, Philadelphia, MS.
Headed out of town, towards Jackson, I found myself behind several school buses. One of them led the way, for about eight miles, and I noticed rambunctious behaviour through the opaque rear window, similar to the shenanigans of countless children and youth, the world over.
It was also quitting time in the state capital, so when I got to the seat of Mississippi state government, I had a “state business only” streetside parking space to myself-for five minutes, under the watchful eye of a Capitol Police Officer. Here, then, are the Mississippi Capitol and a nearby First Baptist Church.
South side of Mississsippi State Capitol, JacksonFirst Baptist Church, Capitol Hill, Jackson
The road west and north passed a sizable back-up, across I-20, near Tallulah, LA, where I stopped for dinner and heard details of the overturned truck, from another driver who witnessed the rollover. Leaving the Interstate, just shy of Shreveport, my memory of map study when I was a teenager and young adult came in handy-and up through Springhill, into Arkansas, it was. I passed through the place called Hope, in which Bill Clinton still believed, on the night of his election to the Presidency, in 1992. Respite, though, has come, at the Palace Hotel, in this little town of De Queen, just shy of the Oklahoma border. I was the last guest checked in for the night, before the clerk decided he’d had enough, and locked the office door.
The Universe may be resistant, in some ways, but there are plenty in it, who are looking out for me.
January 15, 2023- An eclectic musician was also present, at least night’s concert-dancing with several ladies, in the small area, front of the band. He was sporting a red ball cap, with the acronym MAMA, representing “Make America Magical Again”.
I rather like that notion. Much of what has made life nice, these many years, has seemed almost magical in its unfolding. How many times have I been graced with accommodations that would ordinarily seem out of reach? How many meals have come my way, both when Penny and I were at wit’s end and when I have been on my own? How many friends have appeared, seemingly out of nowhere?
Some of this is, certainly, a reflection of love for others. I find myself thinking, ” Whatever you need, my love”; or “As you need,my pal”, when helping a child or adolescent, or a young woman, for that matter. Their needs are those of the future, after all. Their dreams and efforts are a good part of what will make seeming magic become commonplace. Helping remove obstacles, for anyone really, is an essential part of being an adult in this world.
As I sat with one of my young friends, last night, she noted that what makes any community special are pockets of celebration and affirmation. Some communities, like San Francisco and Boston, have several such areas. Prescott, with Raven Cafe, Founding Fathers Collective and Wild Iris, among other places, is increasingly holding its own in that regard. Faithful readers will note other such pockets of celebration, around the United States and in various countries across the globe.
So, the magic unfolded: The delightful sprite-like dancer, mentioned in the previous post; the structured, polished ballroom styles of an elegant couple; the dancing musician, wearing the M.A.M.A. cap; the melodious offerings of the three lovely women from Bisbee; the genuinely joyful presence of a dear friend and collaborator. Magic, after all, when it is intended to bring harmony, is pure and loving energy.
December 8, 2022- A chirpy voice uttered a “complimentary” greeting to me, as I was leaving the building. I looked down to see a very short person, looking up at me with a radiant smile. This was either a ruse or a slightly disturbed individual, given the nature of the words-which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say, a person my age is NOT someone who is usually the recipient of such comments. We both kept walking in opposite directions, and I did not look back; there was no reason to, unless I myself was disturbed. Making a big deal of it would have been evidence of the latter.
My charges and I had just had a good, honest talk, in which I reassured them, especially a young man, that they could opt out of a reportedly graphic information presentation on matters which used to be handled between father and son, or mother and daughter. Both the boy and his female classmates seemed relieved that they did not have to sit through someone else’s idea of valid information. (The individual mentioned above was not part of that class, and was not anyone I had ever seen before.)
We live in an age when there is both honesty about matters of the flesh and gross overkill as to how soon in life someone should make a determination about his/her gender identity and as to who is to help make that determination. (My own position is that no gender change should be made, until a person is at least 18, and then, only when armed with full information on all aspects of such a change,) We live in an age when entire generations have grown up with adulterated food, air and, in many cases, water. We have no clear idea what specific effects the substances, from GMOs to microplastics to heavy metals, have had on human beings and other living things. Hormonal imbalances, along with mental disorders and early onset diseases, may very well be a result of these substances being present.
We also live in an age when there is both free flowing commentary about once private matters and anonymity, in speech, and between even people living in close proximity to one another; sometimes, between people living in the same house. One by-product of these is a plethora of confused and frightened individuals. Thus, the highly intelligent young man who was all too vocal about what he regarded as institutional overkill, in trying to influence his decision-making, which he preferred be a matter between his father and himself,
It is no secret, in this community, and on the pages of this blog, that I love young people very deeply, in the true sense of the word. I recently watched a program, in which one of the characters said, “We safeguard those we love. We keep them from harm, coming from any source.” That has been my modus vivendi, since I was probably 9 years of age. Maybe being the oldest of five children had something to do with it; maybe realizing that life is tough, no matter what age one is, had its influence. In any case, I long ago decided my life’s work would be helping young people safely realize their dreams and to the extent possible, on their own terms. That is how our son was raised, and that is how I advise anyone else.
If I again encounter the child mentioned at the top of this post, my words will be the same as with others: “Walk carefully; speak thoughtfully; live authentically; dream fearlessly.”
August 22, 2022- It is essential to own what’s yours.
It was an “oops” morning. I had made a wrong notation on my place of assignment, for this morning’s efforts. As far as I can figure, two assignments popped up, at the same time, and I clicked on one, while mentally registering the other. It all worked out, and I did some good work at Location B. Once done, an acknowledgement of my error was in order, and Supervisor gave me a pass-and a pat on the back, for overall excellent work. It pays to own one’s behaviour and its results.
It is essential to relinquish what is no longer yours. The title to Saturn Vue was returned to me, due to a slight gap in communication, itself stemming from momentary uncertainty from the insurance companies and body shop, as to the reparability of the vehicle. This afternoon, I returned the title, one more time, to the insurance company. This time, it will stay with them, as the law requires. Kia Sportage is now my road friend, and the settlement funds were transferred to the dealership, as agreed.
It is essential to own one’s love for humanity. I returned to the Open Feed, in which I assisted two weeks ago, letting the team know that my absence last week had nothing to do with having been threatened by a disgruntled homeless man. God knows, I ignore threats and go with what my heart says. The diners thanked me for ladling the soup, after which it was prudent to help the lone janitor by folding up chairs, so that he could focus on vacuuming the huge carpet. There is no daylight between my feelings for homeless veterans and undocumented immigrants; for people of colour and “rednecks”; for known friend and “stranger”.
It is essential to own one’s dignity and worth. Love for humanity does not mean enabling the grifter, the liar, the imposter. In fact, the opposite is true. Making such people either follow the Golden Rule, or cutting off all contact with them, is the true loving choice. I have elaborated on that, previously, but mention it here, lest trolls try to engage in false equivalency.
It is essential to own what’s yours, and relinquish what isn’t.
December 1, 2021- The little long-haired dachshund, standing outside the small cafe, looked over her shoulder at me, as I sat by the window, and smiled as if she knew me from somewhere. Our last dog, of the same breed, was euthanized eleven years ago, at the age of seventeen. Lady had severe arthritis at the time and could not move without screeching. Maybe canine energy flows through the Universe, the way human energy does, or maybe the animal could just sense that I was taken with her sweet expression, as her owner looped the leash around a chair leg, while he went into the nearby herb shop.
Catch-up. This morning, in particular, was set aside for paying the rent, recycling old newspapers and going through the freezer & refrigerator, to make sure any overlooked stale and rancid stuff was tossed. The afternoon was a bit quieter, visiting a bit with friends from Prescott Valley and helping my Hiking Buddy get some of her product to the P.O.
Duplicates, triplicates, etc. Checking the contacts on my i-Phone, I see that nearly all of them were entered at least twice. So, after locating the ‘delete’ tab, at the bottom of each ‘Edit’ page, I managed to start clearing the redundant entries. It’ll probably take a half hour to get through the whole list, including surname changes and removing the names of those who have passed away. This is what happens when importing data from one phone system to another, and getting no confirmation of the import, at first. Retrying was apparently unnecessary.
Stocks in Trade. It most always happens that those with a heavy investment in the stock market use the last trading day of any given month as their pay day. There is always a lame excuse: “Because of ____________ (fill in the blanks)”, but the reason is the same. In essence, this is how some folks pay their bills. The rest of us just bide our time, leave our investments alone and sooner, rather than later, the funds are on the upswing again-until the next end-of-month or day before a holiday.
Whose Body Is It? The Supreme Court Justices weighed in on the matter of whether abortion is a choice or a matter of government restriction. There was no “final” decision made on the matter, but here is the thing, imho. Life begins at conception AND the matter of whether it proceeds to birth lies between a mother and her physician, with hopefully some RESPONSIBLE and informed input from the father. A rapist, or an incestuous man forfeits any claim to having been responsible. It falls to the mother’s moral compass, as to whether the child should be carried to term. Again, in my humble opinion, genetic testing should NOT be the basis for such decision making, if gender or potential disability are the criteria for opting to abort. As a man who is past child- siring age, I recognize that my opinions are not exactly going to be solicited. However, I conclude with three points: 1. A fetus is not brain-dead, despite the statement made to that effect by one of the Supreme Court justices. The level of brain development should have nothing to do with the mother’s decision. That is the stuff and nonsense behind the odious theory of eugenics. 2. Devaluing a person because of gender is precisely the reason why pre-birth testing is also odious. People in societies where women and girls are historically devalued should not be given license to indulge in pre-birth slaughter. 3. Finally, I have yet to meet a mother who opts for abortion who is NOT scarred emotionally by her choice. It is arguably the most terrifying situation in which a human being may be placed. The last thing she needs is to have government in the driver’s seat. The forces of education and nurturance need to be in place, very early in the life of an adolescent -boy or girl and definitely need to be there for a woman who has to make the decision. Regardless of the choice made, the woman needs to be enveloped in love. Too much can, and will, go wrong when a patriarchy or detached bureaucracy-including SCOTUS- imposes its dictates on the lives of women who are of child-bearing age.
August 7, 2021- A firewall guards me, from mayhem both inside and out .
The above verse is a Lune, or “American haiku”. I have thought of several firewalls, which keep my once fearful self in safety.
There is the firewall of respect. It extends to all life, to the healthy relationships people have with one another, to the sanctity of marriage, of parent and child bonds, and to the right of human beings to make their own choices. It also extends to the hope that this respect will be a two-way street-that parents will respect their children, even those in the womb; that children respect their parents and grandparents-as well as one another; that people respect those whose opinions differ from their own, while measuring their own opinions, so that the resulting actions don’t hurt others.
There is the firewall of unconditional love. It, too, extends to all life, and starts with my unconditional love for self, as a child of the Creator. It does not mean I will give someone everything that is requested-especially if I can see that such giving will weaken either me, or the recipient, or both of us. It means that I love each person, where he/she is now. It means I care equally for the people around the beloved, as they are essential to the loved one’s well-being.
There is the firewall of logic and reason. It is dependent on rest, on proactive health and on inner peace, so that the mindfulness which brings it to the fore can flow untrammeled. Logic and reason allow for flexibility, for movement through changing circumstances. They allow for a climate of peace.
There is the firewall of obedience to natural law. It forewarns me of consequences for acting on untoward thoughts and makes me learn from my mistakes. It shows how to get through unexpected turns of events and how to plan for the next time a calamity may strike.
Firewalls have, all in all, kept me on track for what I must do in the short term, and how I might plan for further out. They also remind me that what I did wrongfully, in the past, simply present lessons, from which hopefully I will have learned.
For these sixty-nine years and change, I have felt two, perhaps semmingly contradictory things: Unconditional love and discernment, with regard to how I spend my time and money. The contradiction clears up, once I remember that unconditional love includes how one is towards self.
So, when someone decides, on my behalf, that THIS is what I should do, for the greater good, THIS is how I will spend my time and THIS is what deserves my financial investment, the door tends to shut-at least until such time as I see the value in being involved. Part of this is my autism, and part of it is that I have received clear guidance from my ancestors and spirit guides.
I appreciate that some in the world feel drawn to me, calling me their brother or father, even though we’ve never met. A few of them have my support, to a certain extent. I will fulfill those commitments I’ve made, but this will NOT open the door to unending work on more projects. I have my path set, for the times when we are dealing better with COVID19 and for when there are other events going on, for which I will need to be elsewhere. During such times, I will not be at the random beck and call of individuals. I will have my family and selected other people as my first priorities.
Yes, this is a statement of discretion, which hopefully will be understood in the spirit of love with which it is offered.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 