My Inner Crank

We went to a prayer service last week in northeast Tacoma for the Baha'is who have been arrested last year in Iran for supposed espionage, etc., and may be coming up for trial soon. This was held at the home of an Iranian couple and they had gone door to door in their neighborhood to invite people to come and pray. There was beautiful music and chanting, and I was touched by the fervency of the Christian prayers. As a Baha'i who has multiple prayer books full of revealed prayers available, I am always amazed at Christian prayers. They just open their mouths and make it up! In front of everyone. You'd almost have to set me on fire before I could do that. The unity was wonderful. My husband stayed for an hour after everyone else left, fitting in extra rice and tea, and chatting in Farsi with Bahereh's parents. He misses Iran very much.

I'm struggling with my character traits. Honesty is supposed to be a very good thing, but it needs to be balanced with kindness. I seem to be becoming increasingly direct as I age and become more confident. I seem to be channeling my inner crank. I also thank my father, Lewis Elwood, for my crank genes. He didn't pull too many punches. On the other hand, at his memorial service, I was impressed by the remarks from friends and neighbors who knew him well: most said that, with Lewis, what you see is what you get. Very upright, straight. I've been thinking about his mother, Bo Leta Elwood, who taught me to tat. She could also be very sharp.

But what I'm hearing come out of my mouth lately disappoints me. I seem to have little patience for people craving compassion, because it comes out as desiring confirmation for their self-pity. We aren't taught to just say, "help! I need caring and compassion!" Instead, we learn to try to wrangle it out of people with our victim stories. I need to learn to give people compassion when they need it, even when I don't appreciate their way of trying to get it without actually asking.

I've been feeling low energy, doing a lot of admissions at work, and today have a sore throat and fever. I reread Roger Reini's Pilgrimage story and kept bawling as I recognized the sites and events during Pilgrimage which I miss so much. I miss Haifa and Akka and the Shrines and the Mansion of Mazraih and the fragrant grapefruit at the Bahji Visitor's Center. And the fellowship of the pilgrims, and so many other things. I'm having Pilgrimage withdrawal.

Roger, your cat with the half-missing ear is still there, hanging around the PRC. It probably enjoys the Pilgrim vibes, as well as the attention.