Blogs by Bahais

A compilation


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HOW TO KNOW EVERYTHING

For Owen Allen’s Blog Owen’s Meanderings.

Owen's Meanderings

There is a concept in the facilitation of Baha’i Study, of elevated conversation. Elevated conversation is something that anyone can enter. It does require knowledge of certain things but, those things being known or understood, it is not necessary to be knowledgeable about other things and still be able to enter elevated conversation about those things.

Well those couple of sentences are, I am sure, just baffling. So lets look at it through a specific principle of the Baha’i Faith: religion and science are in harmony.

The first thing i would say is that, while scientific knowledge is useful for an elevated conversation around this principle, it is only that it can be a tool of elevated conversation, not a tool of scientific knowledge. This is a distinction that is important to make.

Let’s drill down into the ideas.

Conversation can be described as being in play with another or…

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Family Poems (14/16): Memas

Everybody Means Something

Memas

After recently posting Unfinished Business in response to Sue Vincent’s book addiction post, and finally managing to finish Reading in the Park after only five decades, it struck me that it might be useful to post the family related poems, not in chronological order of composition, which is how they have appeared so far, but in a sequence that better reflects their chronological sequence in autobiographical time. I started last Monday with the first one after Unfinished Business, as that was posted so recently. The rest are following at the rate of a poem a day.

Memas

In Panchgani
in the cold front room
of the small cottage
which she didn’t own
she lay still
under the white sheet
beneath the crimson and green
of the freshly cut
half-opened rose
with her headscarf tight
against the breeze
from the open window
still in the pale flowered brown dress
she always wore for travelling

there…

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Reading Purrfection

Stumbling Through the Past

Cat lying on verandah balustrade. In foreground is book, notebook, pen and bookmark Our cat Whispy, keeping me company while I sit on the verandah reading.

It has been glorious weather in Sydney albeit unseasonably warm and dry. I have been enjoying sitting outside and reading. The photo above sums up my ideal reading environment – a good book, bookmark, reading journal, pen and a cat.

Where would we be without good books? I am struggling to imagine my life without regular reading. Even during my reading drought during university and my early twenties (reading economics and accounting text books does not count!), I loved reading the weekend newspapers with their long book reviews, travel pieces and articles giving rich background to the news. That has largely gone now, replaced by websites. I snuggle up to my tablet for weekend news reading but it is not quite the same.

I don’t review anywhere near the number of books I read. Among the books…

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Do all those mixed-race couples on TV count for anything?

This is from the Fruit Tree Blog

Like I’ve discussed a few times on this blog (like here and here), the past couple years have not been America’s proudest in terms of race relations. Regardless of whether you feel the nation’s actual situation has worsened, or rather that greater transparency and awareness are revealing more clearly how bad that situation has always been, one thing is for sure; Americans are feeling a greater level of anxiety around race than they did just a few years ago. A Gallup poll recently found that 35% of respondents worry “a great deal” about race relations in the country, the most since the organization started asking the question 15 years ago.

The great irony here is that even as Americans’ collective anxiety over race has risen, our society’s most vital institution — the nuclear family — is more racially integrated than ever before. A generation ago, about one-in-a hundred babies…

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Sustain

WritersDream9

All Poetry Sustain https://pixabay.com/en/sunset-sky-gloomy-sky-541562/

Your darkness seeps into everything
Crawls into my consciousness and stings
Deflates my bright and shiny red balloon
I fall into the mold you’ve set too soon

Each day the sun shines in its glory
I try to write a fresh, new story
But like a cloud spilling out salty tears
That light is occluded by your fears

Like the sun, I continue to rise
Bursting through the hatred and the lies
Even when the darkness shrouds my own space
I will shine and of your clouds leave no trace

~~

© Carol Campbell

❤ ❤ ❤

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That selfie you took

the Book of Pain

upOff to wherever for whatever, but before you go—
snap that photo in the here and now, then post
it up to the fast receding, the there and when,
that touch that was, hope fading into forgot…

There we’ll remain with our firm, sure smiles,
left for our heirs to puzzle over, caught by us
in their time as were we in ours at the undertaking:
whatever did we think we were looking forward to?

This is what ties us, each generation, one to the other,
no one else understanding the race, going/going/gone,
that determined moment we thought so real (foolish us)
sent on ahead just the same. Almost as if by accident.
What was it I thought I was saying?

up

My apologies for such a long hiatus, but I’ve been working on a project for my Masters degree.

I was struck recently by an article discussing how fast we are loosing the World War 2 vets. In the United States, 16 million men and women were in uniform for that conflict, but now less…

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