Spring Cleaning

"In his holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops a handkerchief.
These handkerchiefs are called saints.”
Frederick Buechner

As you prepare for the upcoming Naw Ruz - Vernal Equinox - by 'spring cleaning' both body and soul with Fasting and Prayer, I will be charging through our new home, going through all those boxes which have lain fallow over the winter in our basement-library and Getting Rid of Stuff.

Getting rid of stuff could also be construed as getting rid of worn ideas, myths and yes, those little guilts that have been holding me back.

When I started this blog, I honestly had no idea where it would lead - it's been a year since I started and though it has been intermittent, nevertheless, ideas expressed in here have been heartfelt and it was with some surprise that I found they had an echo in other people's blogs or comments.
I thought I was the only one.

So, have I found a Trace of the Traceless Friend?
Yes, tracks have been sighted by the campfires outside the walled city, revolutionary ideas have been pressed between pages of worn prayer books, passed hand to hand and read by starlight.

Have I run out of rant?
Perhaps.
I have learned so much in the past year (and still continue to learn) that I have been overwhelmed and overcome and just plain 'overed' with the whole thing.

Does this mean I won't continue with the blog?
No, but it will mean I will blog when I truly have something to say.
And frankly with the way things are going with the AO, I'm sure I will.

But my own personal story is done.

I have come to a quiet backwater; the anger, hurt and betrayal is still there, but the blog has helped with the healing and knowing that others have gone through far, far, worse, makes my rant a very tiny rant indeed.
There is much Beauty out there and time is too short not to see it.

*

I believe, help thou my unbelief?
I am no longer sure what I believe anymore, other than the Four Seasons and continual spiral of the Heaven's dance.

*

I think Rumi said it best:

Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving.
It doesn’t matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vow
a hundred times.
Come, yet again, come, come.

People will pick the Message apart and find either meat or bone or simply toss it and reach for something else. I on the other hand, will still feast on the Hidden Words and Seven Valleys along with scattered prayers for seasoning.

And most recently, I have discovered, 'Tahirih: A Portrait in Poetry' courtesy of that independent press Kalimat.

O my.

You raised me up high, then tore me to rubble.

So light a spark now—set the trash afire.
I hear angels in ceaseless song:

“Sad lovers! Come join his feast:

Eat all that you desire.”

- from the poem: Your Brilliant Face -

*

TÁHIRIH: A PORTRAIT IN POETRY - Selected Poems of Qurratu'l-'Ayn translated and edited by Amin Banani, Ph.D.,with Jascha Kessler, Ph.D. and Anthony A. Lee - Published by Kalimat Press

This entry is dedicated to A: though you did not find what you sought among us, know that there is always a warm spot by the fire at my hearth.

Blessings to those who are welcoming this New Year with open hearts and open minds.

Shanti.

Death Knell for Maxwell

RIP MAXWELL - YOUR EAGLE HAS FALLEN.
I thought I had run out of rant lately, but it seems I was wrong.
It is now official.
The final chapter of the School is drawing to a close and Maxwell School staff and students will say goodbye in June 08.
To your graduating class of 08 I say well done, you fought the good fight!

First it was a cough - no one paid attention- then a cold - no one paid attention- then flu set in, quickly followed by pneumonia and the downhill financial struggle began to take its toll on its health.
I have been told it was demographical influences and granted schools are closing all round us, however if we had been paying attention, Maxwell could have been put to different uses -
Oh I don't know, call me a fool, how about a Community Outreach - yes I know about the Year of Service, and the Emergency Response teams, and those wonderful hours your students put in helping out the aged, but I am talking about doing it actually on the Property - invite the neighbours in.

The focus, ah the focus..could it have been changed to better suit the times?
You became a haven for children of pioneering parents who have gone on to greater glory in the material world.
- SO where are those graduates now?
Not coming to your rescue are they?

I'm sure wiser heads than I, will come up with all the rational reasons why it had to close.
As was pointed out to me, it's not just a money issue, but a body issue, not enough students.
So that begs the question which shall now remain unanswered, why did you not attract enough students from the surrounding area, never mind internationally.

I hope I'm wrong and I can stop hanging crepe, but so far, no Knight has come forth with bags of money to rescue the School, just as there was no rescue for Landegg or for the Yukon Baha'i Institute - sadly Maxwell joins a line that stretches worldwide as school closures seem to escalate.

Why should I care?
Because I was there at the beginning of this dream some 30 odd years ago, and though I have gone on my separate way, I still remember with love and fondness, the friends who started it with Hope and a Promise.
You have been betrayed as I was.
A Dream can only carry so much weight without support before it falls.

Why 19?

(Brighid's Fire Temple Foundations, Kildare, Ireland)

I am taking a leaf (pun) from Priscilla Gilman and though it is late (honourably I hope),

I too am asking a Question.

Why 19?

Why not 20? or 12? Or 5 or 9?
What is so special about 19 and why is it singled out as a Vahid or Unit?
And why have others long before the creation of the Baha’i calendar given this number sacred status?

I am referring in this instance to the Pre-Christian Brighid of Ireland (later St Brighid) who as a Goddess had a Fire Temple dedicated to Her and Her sacred Flame at Kildare, Ireland.
Inside the Temple, the Flame was tended by 19 Priestesses who each took a turn day and night to make sure it did not go out.
On the morning of the 20th day, the Flame was ‘smoored’ or covered by peat to preserve the live coals and left for the Goddess to tend.

That night the Cycle would begin again and Priestess FlameKeeper 1 (later to become Nun FlameKeeper 1) would begin her Flame tending duties.

I had come across a tantalizing reference to 19 being the number of lunations the Full Moon makes in a solar year but no other information.

That is until now.
For those who can get their head around the Math involved (not me I’m afraid) here is a wonderful site that I stumbled across and wish to share.
http://www.sacrednumber.co.uk/

If you scroll down past all those fascinating Near Pythagorean triangles, you will find the article ‘Nineteen - Prime Number of the Moon’ (click on it and will zoom to the top of the screen for an easier read.)

Could this be one of those serendipitous examples of Science and Religion agreeing?

Blessings

Shanti

The need for More Translators or quick! find me a Babel Fish!

From Douglas Adams' Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy-

“ The Babel fish is small, yellow and leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy received not from its own carrier but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with nerve signals picked up from the speech centres of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language."

(If you wish to see what a Babel Fish looks like, click here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babel_fish.)

Old topic I am sure, but one which was recently brought home to me BIG TIME in the following manner:
I received a very croaky voiced phone call from my friend Graeme in the UK.
"John", he said huskily," has had a very bad accident with 3rd degree burns on his hands and face and you are the only one I can think of that can help! He's in hospital in France and his wife doesn't speak a word of French and she's frantic. Can you help translate? Here is the hospital phone number."
Gulp.
I quickly came back with "O NOOOo! how Awful and dammit, I don't have enough French to handle that, but let me work on it and I'll call you right back."
I knew my friend Petra was fairly fluent and I had her cell number, but then I also had what I can only describe as one of 'those Angel taps on the shoulder'.
I zoomed into the kitchen where my two weekend guests (Gordon and Chloe) were just finishing their breakfast.
I looked at them and said, "Do either of you speak French?"
They looked up at me and said almost together "I do."
After quickly filling them in on the situation, Chloe volunteered to be the translator with Gordon as standby in case things got really technical.
Using Skype on my pc, we first attempted to contact the ITC unit in France where John was staying and though they were very polite, they could not release any information regarding his condition unless we were family members.
OK.
Plan B
Back I went online again, skyped the UK number of his wife Julia , conferenced her in, quickly explained that Chloe was to be her translator, then rang the hospital, got the Doctor on line and then handed the headset to Chloe with a nod and said,
"Here you go, you are on."
Back and forth the conversation went, the Doctor explaining things to Chloe and Chloe translating for Julia.
I could not help thinking through all of this, how miraculous it all came together.
The technology to put three countries together (Canada, UK and France) so that a distraught wife who didn't speak French, could get the needed information about her husband's condition from the very man who was treating him!
The upshot of all of this was if John was stable enough, they were going to transfer him to the Burn Unit in Salisbury which turns out to be the Best in the Country and only a short distance from his home!
After we all ended our respective calls, I placed another to Graeme and brought him up to date.

If I had one prayer -wish this Season, it would be for complete healing and limited scarring or none at all, for my dear friend John.

Update on John's condition: he is now released from the Salisbury Burn Unit (UK) and will be spending most of January sleeping and healing at home. His face was only superficially burned, his eyes were untouched and it was only the back of his hands that got the worst of it (his nylon jacket went up like a torch and melted all over his hands.) He feels very lucky and blessed to have survived this!

Back to the topic:
John's company is headquartered in Australia, the current contract is in France, most of the workers are English and more to the point - unilingual.
To think that a large global company did not even consider the need to have a standby translator 24/7 for emergencies such as this, is frankly criminal.
John was in a French hospital for 5 days, surrounded by a sea of French speaking doctors and nurses and no one would tell him anything in his own language.
They would just come in and do things to him and not talk about what they were doing or why.
Can you imagine the stress?

As we become more Global in our work lives and until a universal language is either created or decided upon, translators should be put on the payroll of every company that does business in a foreign (to them) country.
Wouldn't it be nice if there was a Universal Translators Guild that we could call upon?

Either that or we start putting Babel Fish in our ears!

A Single Candle - Petra's Homeless Project

O YE RICH ONES ON EARTH!
The poor in your midst are My trust; guard ye My trust, and be not intent only on your own ease.
#54 - Hidden Words of Baha'u'llah

Our friend Petra lives in an area where there are many homeless people.

For the last two years, on her own time and with her persuasive smile, she has managed to fill 300 gift bags to give out at the Annual Christmas Dinner at the local Union Gospel Mission.
Her persistance over the year has managed to garner boxes of soap along with travel size shampoo, conditioner and hand lotion from a local hotel, boxes of tissues from a local paper company, and socks!
Hundreds of pairs of warm socks for both men and women.

From her dentist she received toothbrushes and toothpaste and with her own funds, fills out the bag with whatever might be missing, be it deoderant or other toiletries.
These things we use everyday makes such a big difference to those that have little or nothing.

Yes, there are many worthy causes out there, but her feeling is that 'charity begins at home'.
It is a sad statistic, but every year the homeless in her area increase by 6 to 7%.
It is not a number that is getting smaller.

This year, rather than filling those bags on her own, she invited a group of women to join her and form a work party. They managed to get 68 women's bags filled, and Petra will continue on her own to fill out the remaining for the men's. It's a huge job and will take her most of the month to get it done in time for the December 8th deadline, but I have no doubt she will get it done.

How far that little candle throws her beams!

So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1. Shakespeare

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Update on the Gift Bags

Last night (November 13) she and a friend spent the evening filling 108 men's gift bags. She blithely informs me she has 'only 120 more to go!' and would like to get it done by this Thursday November 15 as the Mission is sending out a couple of men to take her gift bags to storage for the December 8th party.

***

The Last of the Gift Bags filled and ready to go.

For Them

Prayer: Feast: Community.

Do Not Speak To Me of Roses

So innocent in hue
Their colour's pain and sacrifice -
I know what roses do.


In far off fabled gardens
They entice the nightingale to bare his throat,
His voice, his love, his life
On thorns impale.




Who claimed to companion Him
In the Garden of Ridvan?
With Whom did Mystic Voice converse
In night-season 'til the dawn?

No one - not one! - was found to bear
Thy words of Honeyed Tongue -
To fragrant rose and nightingale
This Song alone was sung.

In that waiting, listening Garden
He paced, alone, apart-
As moonlight streamed upon Him
The Prophet bared His Heart.

(Written by WH in the Days of Faith for Beth and now dedicated to the memory of Roger White)