Where The Winds Carry Prayers

Stark red rocks reflected changing light of early spring sunshine. I felt a pilgrim in this place, drawn to it – seeking, observing, absorbing, listening. Navigating the steep, rocky path from the dusty turnoff spot in a residential Sedona neighborhood, following the footprints of others who had gone ahead, I encountered a presence, a brief whisper of peace, the fleeting embrace of the sacred.

Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park

I was hurting that spring morning - grieving - numb from the loss of loved ones. I was hurting that spring morning, grieving, angry and sad, absorbing the fact that results - consequences - of the recent Presidential election - were going to be far worse than even the blueprint of Project 24 laid out, consequences that were leaving chaos in the lives of those I love.

And so, I sat, closed my eyes and listened - to the birds, and the soft sounds of distant wind chimes, and sometimes, the quiet, respectful voices around me.

The symbols in this place, this Stupa and Peace Park, seemed foreign to my faith tradition, but I was drawn to offer my prayers as I spun the prayer wheels and walked three times around the Stupa. And all the while, prayer flags, strung with intention everywhere in the peace park, were sending prayers heavenward on the breeze.

And so, I brought strings of flags home to Crandall Hill where they send our prayers, prayers for peace, compassion, strength and wisdom into the sky and beyond.

Prayer flags feature five colors:

1. Blue for sky and space, to bring wisdom and clarity

2. White for air and wind, to purify and bring harmony

3. Red for fire to inspire transformation and energy

4. Green for water to encourage balance and healing

5. Yellow for earth, encouraging stability

It is said this arrangement brings all the elements into harmony, blessing the space and everyone who passes by.

Dreaming

BFH in AZ
2019

I was dreaming last night of my mother, my mother in her last months, diminished, tired. But in my dream, I had a chance for a do-over, one where I would find the answer to save her, keep her here on this plane. It wouldn’t be codfish gravy. It wouldn’t be Grape Nut Bread, it wouldn’t be milk toast or tapioca pudding or ice cream. It would be just the thing to bring her back.

As often happens in dreams, I was heroic - pointing out anomalies to her trusted doctors, consulting with spiritual advisors like Dr. Todd, the imposing, impossibly old pastor of my youth, and finally looking for a plant that grew in the brackish water at the base of a huge water wheel.

It’s been a year - 12 months - since the calls from a Coudersport number I recognized as Cole Manor reached me in Arizona and this September, I was in Arizona again, half expecting that number to show up on the phone when it rings, while at the same time, knowing it wouldn't.

I woke up today, opening my eyes to a gray morning, just as I had reached the spot on a precipitous cliff under the waterwheel, ready to plunge to the depths to find the magic elixir.

Marketing

I spent the last third of my career in public relations - marketing - at our local hospital that bore the name of a local man whose generosity built the fine red brick edifice. As I navigated the changes that came fast and furious in those 18 years, I always took seriously my job to communicate - share -  information with the public. The bedrock was to always tell the truth.

Of course, it was my job to present information in the best possible light. But as I first began writing press releases, preparing advertisements and brochures, my boss cautioned me against using superlatives and to instead focus on presenting information patients and families could believe and trust as they made health care choices. 

That experience is why I was aghast at the way UPMC announced the pending closure of the unit in the Hospital formerly known as Long Term Care and/or Skilled Nursing and Rehabilitation and named "Cole Place" when UPMC assumed control of local health care.

UPMC and Sweden Valley Manor Announce Partnership To Enhance Long Term Care Services For Coudersport Residents

UPMC Cole and Sweden Valley Manor are pleased to announce a strengthened partnership that will elevate long-term care services for the Coudersport community. By early November, Cole Place, a skilled nursing facility located within UPMC Cole, will transfer its operations to Sweden Valley Manor, a skilled nursing facility located right across the street.

“This transition will offer Cole Place residents a truly beautiful, special place to live — one that feels just like home,” said Dan Glunk, M.D., interim president, UPMC Cole and UPMC Wellsboro. “Sweden Valley Manor is known for its personalized, compassionate care. This collaboration between UPMC Cole and Sweden Valley Manor builds on our longstanding partnership in caring for Potter County and beyond.”

I can't imagine that the team crafting these press releases - or even Dr. Glunk  – might possibly believe that any nursing home will feel "just like home." Home-like I might buy.

The latest press release was reminiscent of the way UPMC announced the end of labor and delivery at Potter County's only hospital, creating a seven-county area without hospital-based labor and delivery services. 

The announcement from UPMC on February 10, 2025: 

UPMC is taking steps to expand and enhance women’s health services throughout north central Pennsylvania. Our top priority is to provide every patient with high-quality care that is accessible and sustainable and ensure that every birthing parent receives the safest and most advanced care possible in a setting that offers enhanced resources and support.

The OB unit closed in April, despite the efforts of local government officials and a coordinated protest. 'Officials' would not budge and continued in promotion of the idea that the loss of services is an enhancement.

And in November, the lights will go off in Cole Place as they tell us it's an "elevation"

The marketing campaign engineered by UPMC is much like the marketing campaign launched by the MAGA movement, the kind of marketing foretold in Orwell's 1984.

“The party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.... And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed–if all records told the same tale–then the lie passed into history and became truth.” 

Heather Cox Richardson puts it this way: "They are engaged in a marketing campaign to establish Trump's false version of reality as truth. The White House has also brought into the press pool right wing influencers, who are asking questions that tee up opportunities for White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt to push administration talking points, which the influencers then amplify on social media."

September's Golden Light

The sun, the early September sun, hit goldenrod in the backyard field in a brilliance that colored the morning in burnished gold. And again, I was thankful for being in this place at this time.

Earlier, in the dusky hour before sunrise, I ventured out onto the back porch to check for evidence of overnight rain. Me, in my hideous bathrobe, my feet bare, treading across the boards I painted last summer, to the porch's edge where steps descend to a flagstone path. Only dew, the sky that dark rose color, and between the trees, a bright morning star blinked at me. I stood quietly and stretched, breathing the dampness, feeling the stillness. Breathe, remember to breathe. The day before me, goals set to accomplish, the coffee brewing in the kitchen inside, the man still abed upstairs.

And a truck, first in the distance, the sound carrying in the still morning. I tracked its progress across the flat, past the house where a Confederate flag has lately joined the Don't Tread on Me banner and the dueling pistols in the yard. Then up the hill known to the old-timers as Scott Hill, its light breaking at the top before gathering speed as it rumbled past, scattering leaves already fallen.

Another post generated in a 10-minute writing exercise with an online writing group on Thursday, a day of sunshine unlike today's gloominess. The group leader tasked us with writing a list of topics we wanted to explore that morning. I settled on this.