All posts by Charles

Cinema and Television, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Shadow Mountain, Writing

Every Single Day

Leave a comment

Spring and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Friday gratefuls: Therapy. David. A new way of choosing what to eat. (not a “diet”). Ukraine. Putin. Russia. The Russian Orthodox Church. The Presbyterian Church. Reconstructionist Judaism. Taoism. Animism. Paganism. March Madness. How about St. Peter’s! Playing the Boilermakers. Santayana. Unamuno. William James. My always friend, philosophy. And, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Energy

 

David’s going to write up some material based on the work we’ve done over the past month or so. We’ll discuss it next week. Still eye on the ball. What’s this new life? What does this 75 year old man want to do next?

wallup.net

An odd feeling drives my interest in it now. Boredom. I’ve argued often that boredom is a good thing. Doesn’t feel good, but the purpose vacuum lures creativity. The boredom grows from my new found energy. I find the late part of the afternoon excruciating. Bored. Too much energy to sit still. Too much habituation over the last three plus years and this last year in particular to sitting, watching TV.

The blank space in the afternoon has become my prod, a goad. What follows from here? Yes, wu wei. Yes. Still, I want to have some things to flow with, to carry me along toward that great ocean beyond this reality. I don’t want to get caught in meaningless productivity or pointless “hobbies”. I also don’t want to continue as I am now. A good sign, I think.

David’s work is part of that. An outside observer, skilled in the psyche. Looking forward to what he has to say.

 

Today was write Ancientrails. Breakfast. David. Workout. Mussar. That got me to 2:30. Kep starts looking at me with those adult doggie eyes around this time. Dinner, dad? Now? No, not yet. 3 pm. Dinner, dad? Now? This is a minute later. Nope. You have to wait. He waits, slumping down on the floor, almost a sulk but not quite.

After that? Not much. TV. Reading Amanda Palmer. Working the Wordle and the Spelling Bee. Looking out at the backyard, wondering when it will hit me. This. Is. The. Way. Considering that may never happen. A little frightening. Forced to live a life of food, reading, friends, and family. Travel. Oh. The horror.

Life is a cabaret, old friend. May it never end.

 

Damn. Those Ukrainians! A counter punch. How bout that? I’ve thought of Paul Wellstone’s buddy, Al Franken. It takes brains to be a good comedian, a talent for observation, for understanding how people’s psyche works. Not a surprise that Zelensky has done well. That he’s done much better than well? A big surprise to Putin and the Russian Army. He may end up having the last laugh.

Saw this on Facebook and can’t resist sharing here:

 

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Mountains

To Bailey, To Evergreen, And Home Again

Leave a comment

Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Thursday gratefuls: David Sanders. Mussar. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Amanda. A clean, much more slender Kep. His schedule with Amanda. Good Will in Evergreen. Last of the pruning gone. More, still much more to come. Pruning. Energy. Eigner. More blood work next week. Diane. Mediterranean diet. Milk Street cookbook, thanks Ode.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep smells so good!

 

Yesterday. Wrote Ancientrails. And posted it to the web! Glad to have that back as a regular event.

Took Kep to Bailey to Award Winning Pet Grooming. Amanda is a sweetheart. Dropped him off, then turned around and drove back to Evergreen. Goodwill Donation Center. It was very windy, not too cold unless a blast of air caught you. Gusts in the 60 mph range.

I tried to get somebody to help me unload. Still thinking, I can’t do this. Not sure why but I couldn’t find anybody. The back, filled with large gray plastic bins for sorting donations, had someone carrying in a student desk (I could see it over the bins), but no one responded.

Ah well. I started unloading. Huh. This isn’t so bad. I finished with ease. Not huffing and puffing, not feeling like I needed a nap or a good long sitdown. Huh. This is just weird. I thought. But good weird. Yeah.

The trip to Evergreen took about 45 minutes. Amanda said to figure three hours for Kep, maybe two if he was ok with the whole process. Turned around and drove back to Bailey.

Thanks, Ode

Earlier in the day I talked to my cousin Diane who lives in the land of the salad eaters, San Francisco. She saw my mention of constipation and said I wouldn’t have it if I went full Mediterranean diet. Oh.

Told her before she mentioned that that I’ve been able to keep at exercising because it gives me a right now benefit. I feel better. Today. Psychically and physically. Also helps with sleep. But diet? No immediate payoff, so I’ve not been able to switch.

She had a meat and potatoes diet growing up, the same as me. But, she said, living in the Bay Area had gradually weaned her from the Midwest heart attack/stroke focused diet to one favored by the Levant. She encouraged me, again. Thanks, Diane.

Realized as I drove back from Evergreen. Constipation. Mediterranean diet and no constipation. That’s a right now positive effect. Like exercise. OK. That makes sense.

Not too far from China Village. Gives the flavor of Bailey and Park County

Decided to try Golden Pines Chinese in Pine Junction, about half way back to Bailey. Easy to go Mediterranean there. Nope. Closed for a “much needed family reunion.” OK. On t the Riverbend for a salad. The Riverbend doesn’t open until 3 pm, I learned. Well. I’ll have a final old style breakfast at the Cut Throat Cafe. Chairs up on tables there. Well, damn.

China Village. This restaurant, attached to a run down motel, had been on my avoid list since I first saw it. It appeared, however, to be only place open in all of Bailey. No, there’s not much to Bailey, but even so.

Really good. I had salt and pepper shrimp on a bed of cabbage with red and green peppers, onions. Wonderful. A bit basic on the service side. Paper plate. Wooden chopsticks replace other diners plastic fork. A plastic tumbler for water. The tea was fine and plentiful.

All squeeky clean

As I paid, $20 with tip, a deal these days, Award Winning Pet Grooming called. Kep was done. Got over there in about three minutes. Kep jumped up on me. He’s always relieved when I pick him up. Thinks he’s been left for good.

He’s now on an 8 week grooming schedule. We’ll see. Amanda thought that should solve my dog hair problem. I decided I couldn’t take anymore tufts of dog hair. If 8 doesn’t do it, we’ll try six. We went home.

Footnote: I did have some energy left, but I felt like I’d earned a rest. Which means. Now that I have more energy I have to recalibrate, decide what to do with this new superpower. A happy problem. I remember happy problems, just haven’t had too many in the last few years.

 

General

March 21

Leave a comment

Spring and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Better energy. The Ancient Brothers. Kep. The Grandma wall. Loading the last, for now, donations to Mountain Resource Center and/or Goodwill. A dull gray day. Uncommon. Snow. Light. Flash bulb memories. Sabertoothed Tigers. Skulls. Dancing Bears. The Grateful Dead. Music. Mozart. Ives. Faure. Bach. The Beatles. The Band. Neal Crosby. Bob Dylan. Jefferson Airplane.

 

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Surrealistic Pillow

 

 

Third day of exile from my blog. Little dot keeps going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Usually solves itself, but not this time. So with extreme reluctance borne of many calls to technical assistance I broke down and called my webhost, Ionos. No joy. They haven’t called me back. Maybe they’re down? Frustrating.

I’ll be back when I can. It does like Ionos has had some problems. The whole server farm industry and its business model remains opaque to me. Yet this blog, the most consistent thing I’ve done over the last 17 years can’t be seen without it. I don’t know where on the planet they are, who runs Ionos, why they’re having trouble. I have a regular backup for my blog but it’s saved on Ionos, too.

On with them now. It’s a glitch on their end. My website is one of some still affected by a web programming issue.

 

 

Yesterday was a weird day. I got up achy, feeling crummy. Headache, muscle aches, general yechh. Got on the call with my Ancient Brothers and my check-in echoed that. When we were done talking about flash bulb memories, I felt better. My energy level had improved.

Still fatigued, but I could get stuff done. Loaded Ruby with the last of the donations from pruning mine and Kate’s things. Probably will be more, but that will require another pass that sits in priority well behind the kitchen, the loft, hanging art, even the outdoors.

With spring will come cleaning out the garage. Oddly, I was well underway with this task when Kate got sicker. It fell away from my attention. Over 3 years ago. It’s going back on the board. Power wash. Seal the concrete. Get rid of the old freezer. Eliminate clutter. Organize tools. That sorta thing. Look forward to it.

Energy level seems still improved. I hope this also clears up some of the brain fog I’ve been experiencing. The low stamina included intellectual work. I couldn’t read or think about one thing very long before I tired out. Didn’t like that. It can be an effect of hypothyroidism.

 

Got started with Ada Palmer’s Too Like Lightning. Amazing world building. She’s a professor at the University of Chicago which means very brainy. It shows. Her area is medieval and renaissance literature.

 

Feel oddly disconnected when I can’t post. Like there’s a core element of writing missing. You. I hope they hurry up and get this fixed. I only know a handful of my readers and I’ve communicated with them. But perhaps you I didn’t know read my blog. I hope you keep at it even after this caesura.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

General

March 20

Leave a comment

Spring and the Moon of Seoah’s Citizenship

Sunday gratefuls: Fatigue. New meds. Being alive. Feeling crummy. Kate, always. Spring. Yes. Rosh Chodesh. Men’s group at CBE. Sleep, good sleep. Those two or three hours of discomfort each afternoon. Psychological discomfort. Kep. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Marina Harris and her team. Cleaning the loft. Rich Levine. Alan Rubin.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blue Colorado Sky

 

Ooof. Something’s off. So hard to tell what. Levothryoxine? New statin dose? Erleada acting up? Don’t think I’m sick. Got past that. Weaker yet. A bit woozy. Don’t feel rested after a good night’s sleep. I mean, dude! WTF? If this lasts into the week, I’m gonna see Kristine again. I see Eigner (oncologist) on April 4th. Will be part of the discussion.

Tough to get stuff done. Tough to not get stuff done. Gosh, gee whillikers. Feeling like a bit of a mess right now. Don’t like it. Kate struggled a lot with the meds and therapies supposed to heal her or at least give her comfort. Getting a better idea of what she experienced.

 

 

Enough of that. Now onto the good news. It’s the Spring Equinox. Ostara. Easter bunnies. Dying and rising gods. Day and night on a roughly equal footing. Light beginning to stay with us longer. I’m usually reluctant to see Winter go. Not this year. Give me warmer weather, some flowers. Let me dance a jig on my back deck. (right now has a mound of snow about three feet high so it will be a while.) Migratory Birds. Fawns. Elk Calves. Kits. Moose Calves. Bear Cubs. Babies of all kinds. Life shows up in all its wonder.

Sure, a fallow season. Cold. Snow. Food in short supply. Beautiful. Yes. Necessary. Yes. But warmth and green Grass, flowing streams, Trees leafed out. Good, too.

I forgot to mention chocolate. Bunnies with their sweet little ears missing. Marshmallow chicks. Candy eggs. Hunting for eggs.

Easter. Passover. Pesach. Liberation. Defeating slavery. Defeating death. That’s all good stuff. This year? I’m leaning in to overuse this overused but helpful phrase.

I need a dash of resurrection, a soupçon of parting Red Sea. Give me that Moses’ staff. Roll away the stone in front of my energy. Let me race across the bottom of the Sea. I wanna see it fold in over Pharaoh’s soldiers. Even that was a Cecil B. DeMille’s thing.

The fertility of the Rabbit. The goddess Ostara mentioned in the venerable Bede’s The Reckoning of Time. General rollicking good fun along with all the serious death defeating and liberating going on.

Oh, boy do I need that energy. Big time. I image I’m not alone. It’s been a long Covid. Which, I think, made Winter even tougher for us temperate zone folks. For me it’s been a year filled with death and scrabbling to get hold of my own illness and its sometimes-ornery treatments. Then the hypothyroidism. I needed that. Though. If levothyroxine can return my energy level, then I’m glad we found it.

 

I’ll let you in on something occult. I always feel better after I right this. One of the reasons, I imagine, that I’ve stayed at it for over 17 years! Feel better now. Breakfast. Then, the Ancient Brothers consider Flashbulb memories.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

O2. Feeling a little down

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Friday gratefuls: Snow. About 18 inches or so. Steel gray Sky over a whitened Black Mountain. Kep slogging through the Snow. Loving it. O2 saturation low yesterday. ?. The life of the mind. The life of the body. Life. Kate, always Kate. David Sanders. Jon. Lungs. Air. Altitude. Vince.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Vince, a genuinely good guy

 

First loft snow day ever yesterday. I just didn’t climb the stairs. Too much snow. Spring. Not sure why but my 02 saturation went down into the 70’s and low 80’s for much of the day yesterday. If that continues, I’ll have to go see Kristine and/or a pulmonologist. I can handle it because I have three stand alone oxygen concentrators and one portable one from Kate’s o2 needs, but geez. Like to know why.

Took my first levothyroxine this morning. Fussy drug. You have to take it thirty minutes to an hour before food and other drugs. It needs an empty stomach for adequate absorption. Not a problem for me since I can take it when I get up, feed Kep, come here to write Ancientrails, then go back down for breakfast and my morning meds. Well, a little problem. No coffee for an hour either. But, I’m a big boy. In a couple of months my energy level should improve.

 

Jon has a show opening at DAVA today. Not sure who the other artists are. Evenings out, with all the snow, are no longer my thing, so I’ll see it later. He’s printing a lot these days. Glad to see.

 

Had to put on my O2 early in the day yesterday. Not usual. Had it on during my session with David. Too loud. Took it off. Oxygen concentrators and bad hearing don’t go well together. Always a bit of a shock for folks to see with me the O2.

 

Mussar yesterday on lashon hara, the evil tongue. In all cases but this one-so far-I have found the character traits of mussar congenial to my own understanding of what a good person would do. This one seems convoluted and over the top to me. Held to rigorously it would prevent telling a friend how your kids are doing. Even if they ask. The idea is to prevent gossip. Thought through it also would halt most of the news and, even a lot of this blog.

In my own view, kavanah, or intention is the more critical idea. Yes, when gossiping is about tearing someone else down. No, when it’s lifting them up. Yes, when the reporting is necessary to call attention to corruption, malfeasance, bad acting. Judaism places a great deal of emphasis on clean speech and I honor that. Lashon hara stretches the idea to far for me.

I may need further understanding since some of what I just read seems to agree with me. It may be that Rabbi Jamie’s take is to one extreme.

 

Felt strange. Not good. Not coming up here yesterday. I put on my Sorel’s and clumped up here today. The lights were still on on the railing. This is a gift from Kate. She wove the lights around the banister and set the timing. Quite a while ago.

 

Feeling a little down today. Don’t like the O2 saturation from yesterday. Seems ok today. Don’t like feeling tired, weak. A bit sad about being alone. Missing Kate. And Rigel. This is mood, not melancholy. It will pass.

 

 

 

 

Astrology, Cooking, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Memories, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Learning Curve Trending Down

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Kep. My phone, which reminds me when 6 am is now. Darkness again. Sadness. Ukraine. Russia. War. Peace. That Dragonfly lamp. The slowness of things just now. The Ancient Brothers. And their still more ancient fathers and grandfathers. Including the con man, the Irishmen, the one in green flannel underwear.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Finding the stock pot and the mixing bowls

 

Ah, the simple joys of kitchen remodeling. I put the stockpot up over the refrigerator, but when I first looked I saw only the second shelf akimbo. It was too heavy for me to lift into place. Can’t be there. Left hand cabinet door. Later, when I decided to look everywhere, I opened the right door and there was one of my favorite kitchen tools on a bias at the other end of the slanted shelf. Really? I did that? Yep.

And the mixing bowls. Determined I went through everything again. Then, there they were. Again, right where I’d put them behind the Pyrex measuring bowls, sort of hidden. Whew. Not crazy.

Bouncing between final moves on the furniture rearrangement and the kitchen reassemble. Both take time and energy. The end results I love. But still more slogging to go. A ways to go before I finish. At this pace? Maybe a month.

I took a big check over to Jodi at Blue Mountain Kitchens on Friday. Bowe still has to come out and finish a few things. Minor. Convince one drawer to glide easily. Some staining. A filler piece between the dishwasher and the sink.

Nausea has begun to get in the way, too. Damn. That’s no fun at all. This Erleada may be important, but it’s not very friendly. Hot flashes seem to have disappeared. Bowels a bit happier. Fatigue, stamina, and my tummy-not so much.

Wrote a piece about astrology for the final class tomorrow. I’ll append it here*. Feels like a fail for me. Might be, might not.

One similar tale. Long ago. Logic, my freshmen year at Wabash. I had done fine in Philosophy 101, all my other classes, too, except German. Which I dropped. Second semester I took Logic from Professor Larry Hackestaff, notable for wandering the green with a six pack of Bud dangling from his side, his belt run through an empty plastic ring. The beer looked like a large set janitor’s keys. Perhaps to the unconscious?

It wasn’t happening for me. I listened to his lectures. I studied hard. I flunked an early test. Oh, god. Was this going to be my first grade below a B ever? And maybe an F? How could this be? Couldn’t imagine. Shame. Fear. Anxiety. None of which helped me of course. It was around this time I got diagnosed with a spastic colon, now irritable bowel, I think.

And then. One morning in the library, in my favorite carrel, I pushed one more time and the world of logic opened up to me, blossomed. The law of excluded middle. Yes. Proofs. Yes. It was fun. A puzzle. Riddles within riddles. Aced the midterm and the final. Felt like I’d strapped myself to the mast like Odysseus, escaping the Sirens of doubt.

Maybe someday I’ll have a similar experience with astrology. Not now. Not sure when I’ll go back to it. Maybe soon, maybe never.

It’s weird because the Tarot has become a daily part of my spiritual practice. I thought astrology would, too. Apparently not.

Breakfast now. Then over to see Dr. Gonzalez, see if we can figure out the fatigue-stamina-nausea trio. Does make me feel a bit fragile. A feeling I don’t like.

 

 

*Astrology and me

A learning curve difficult to surmount. Not sure why. Usually. Fast into the wheelhouse of an idea. This subject. Not so much.

Part of it no doubt is my bedrock empiricism which can swing close to scientism, something I despise. Part of it is a lifetime of seeing the astrology columns in newspapers and reading them for amusement or entertainment. Part of it is a strong existentialism which finds it hard to give outside influence impact over my life. Part of it is the how. How can this be? How can this work? Maybe it’s the wrong moment in my life.

These classes have helped me. I now have a better grasp of the elements of astrology, still unable to put them together with any ease. Not even sure how I can advance. Perhaps I need to go back to work with Elisa on my chart. Learn it. Get it down.

Got to admit this troubles me. A strong part of me relies on intellect. Another strong part of me relies on the heart. At my current age I’d say they are in balance. When my intellect finds it hard to crack the code of a subject, I feel hesitant, reluctant to dig deeper. I had the same issue with languages. Just. Real. Hard.

I wish I had a better way of describing my journey. Yes, I’m intrigued that my chart seems to get some parts of me right. Yes, I’m intrigued by the idea of transits inflecting our lives as the planets move. But moving past intrigue into using astrology as a tool for my own journey? Still not there, after two private readings and two wonderful classes.

Leaving this path with way more questions than answers.

But, as Douglas Adams said, Thanks for all the fish.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Mountains, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

It’s a New Day

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Tom and Bill, Guanella Pass

Friday gratefuls: Jon’s ok. Ruth, growing up. That weird sandwich. Not so ok with my stomach. The anniversary. The people who helped me through it. Chicken soup. Soul. Mine. Trying to find it. Searching for soul. Lev and the mouth. Tom’s 74th. Astrology. Tarot. Kabbalah. Jon’s art. My writing. Water from the Chalice Well. Carolyn Levy. Seoah and her interview this morning.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grief and its depth

Tarot:

 

Kep’s raggedy look. I brush him and brush him and brush him. Taking off as much fur as any dog probably has on them at any one time, yet he has still more. And yet more comes. The second coat of a cold adapted dog breed. A damned nuisance.

On the other hand. He doesn’t slobber. Which both Vega and Rigel did. Their Coyote Hound inheritance. Both the constant shedding and the slobber were new to Kate and me. Irish Wolfhounds and Whippets don’t have either. We had to adjust. Still adjusting.

5 degrees again this morning. This last couple of weeks have reminded me of Minnesota, creating the sort of icy conditions better suited to flatland. Colorado drivers don’t understand it. After 40 years in Minnesota, my instincts are intact. Won’t say an icy curve can’t catch me off guard, but I’ve got a better chance than most of the folks I routinely drive with.

Made it through yesterday. Remembering. Loving the remembering and being saddened by it and gladdened by it. I did what I said I would. Moved Kate’s ashes and her signature red glasses to a niche behind my computer, behind me right now. Rigel, too. Both weighed about the same. Rigel’s big paw print in plaster of paris and a sweet card from the folks at Sano, acknowledging Rigel as a very sweet dog who will be missed. By us all. My two ladies, now elsewhere, gone from here. Not from the soft squishy thing in my skull however.

I can feel yet more plate tectonics in my soul. Subduction pushing up long buried hopes and dreams while carrying surface worries and false paths below. Something about writing going down. Something about people and this house rising. The grief orogeny changing the once flat plain of my old life. New peaks and valleys coming into existence, old ones disappearing.

Cousin Diane said something that stuck with me. Sounds like prioritizing exercise is important. Yes. Broke a logjam in my thinking that kept pressing writing and exercise into a face off for my time. Health comes first. I should know this already after watching Kate’s steady, sad decline. But, I didn’t have it. I’m going to get my 30 minutes plus in five days a week. We’ll see how the rest of the schedule takes shape with that as the priority.

Realizing right now that I have lived through a major life crisis with the folks at CBE. They knew Kate well. And, me. They knew we came as a pair. If she was there, I was there, and vice versa. Except for board meetings and when I did physical work. They were with us through her long illness and are now with me in my grief. Holding me in love and kindness.

Told David again, I don’t want to convert. Might be a little bit repetitive on that one. But, I said, I’m so drawn to the people, the tribe. Not the torah or the kabbalah or the talmud or even the regular services, but the community. I told him about dating three Jewish women at the same time after my divorce from Raeone. Not sure why, just happened. Well, probably not.

He said something very interesting. Sometimes those kind of things happen after events in a past life. Oh. That felt oddly right. Something to explore as this new life, this new day, makes me feel good.

This video surprised me by being a prompt, a hope, a dance I want. Not there yet, but on the way. A new ancientrail.

“Dragonfly out in the sun you know what i mean dont you know
Butterflies all havin’ fun you know what I mean
Sleepin’ peace when day is done that’s what I mean
And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me” Nina Simone

Kate loved dragonflies and butterflies, so here you go:

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Results not guaranteed

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Snow. Kate. Our 32 plus years together. Her laugh. Her wry humor. Her keen intelligence. Her knowledge of cooking and medicine. And classical music. Her. Kep, snuggling this morning before we got up. MVP. Forbearance. Savlanut. Diane. March on Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Diane, cousin and friend

Tarot: How can my new life emerge from my grief?

spread: current situation, obstacle, advice

Cards: queen of stones, bear. seven of stones, clearance. three of arrows, jealousy.

 

And so the anniversary heads into the evening. Early, starting this blog. Talking to Diane. Then, 30 minutes on the treadmill. After. David Sanders. A talk about art and life. About Faure’s requiem and Up on Cripple Creek. Over to mussar to be with friends. Drive to Marshdale Burger and get an improbable burger/corned beef, sauerkraut and thousand island dressing with tater tots. Mountain health food.

On the way back get a call from Ruth. Jon had a seizure in the class room and got taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Ruth leaning into the situation, handling it. Still uncertain as to what caused the seizure.

First anniversary without my Kate. Peopled with friends and family. Soothing. A few tears at mussar. Some last night thinking about, something. Something random. Kep came up, his worried look on, nuzzled me. I kissed his furry head.

David and I talked about a sheet I filled out for him, a sheet of open ended questions. We got through two of the questions. Life is… Short, art is long. Two favorite songs. I remembered why Faure’s Requiem meant so much to me.

Carolyn Levy and I went to the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. The cello concerto left me in tears. Grieving my marriage to Raeone, to being alone, to not knowing what came next. A heart thing. Deep. In fact I think it may have been the night I decided Carolyn wasn’t the one. A smart, beautiful, talented woman. Just not for me.

Up on Cripple Creek includes this line: A drunkard’s dream if I ever did see one. And I know that to be a lie. A drunkard’s dream would be a nightmare, one bringing disability and death.

Dave said I was a wonderful person and a wonderful teacher. Therapist talk, yeah, still nice to hear.

32 in gematria, both David and Jamie said, is heart. Kabbalah has a saying, have the heart and the mouth in line with each other. Authenticity. Yes. Today, this 32nd celebration of our wedding is all about heart for me. I speak that celebration on these pages. To her, wherever she may be. To myself, still here. To Jon, in University hospital. To Ruth, acting like a grown-up.

As Mindy said, one of the things she learned after the death of her husband was that she had to become friends with sadness. Yes. Sadness tells the heart’s tale. Its yearning for that which was, which now cannot be. Yet, it also speaks of the depth of love, the honor of a long time together, the truth of two hearts that beat as one.

Don’t know what the evening holds with Jon. With Ruth and Gabe. Whatever it is, it is an extension of our marriage, our choice to be here with them. Living our promise. Enough. Results not guaranteed.

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Plants, Tarot

Knowing My Limits

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Luke. Rabbi Jamie. New Snow. March. The second month of Adar. Leap year in the Jewish calendar. Kate, my sweetheart, always Kate. The cleaning crew. Vince. My infrastructure folks, as Tom calls them. Becky Chambers. Ada Palmer. Ed Kelly. Psilocybin. THC. Cold Weather. 8 degrees on Shadow Mountain. Fatigue. Weakened stamina. Prostate cancer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Orgovyx and Erleada

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, the Eel

 

House cleaned. New workout proceeding. Back to five days a week. Still fatigued. Started thinking about this last night.

Why do I continue being fatigued? Well. Testosterone as low as it can go. Sarcopenia from meds and aging. Lower o2 saturation due to post-polio and high altitude. Hypothyroidism. Outside of that I’m full steam ahead. For three or four minutes.

My stamina has improved. Still not great, but better. Fatigue, too, for that matter. They’re related, of course. I’m working out and that does help. It’s counter intuitive for sure, but yay moving and challenging those muscles. I’m hoping treatment for the hypothyroid condition will give me a boost. March 14th with Kristine.

When Kate was sick, my principle with her was that I would do for her anything she could not do, but I would not do for her anything she could do. Sounds simple, but it’s not.

I do not have all these. But many. No heavy menstruation for example. Or, any for that matter. But, I do have a lot of them.

I apply the same idea to myself. If I can increase my stamina on my own, I’ll do that. But. I can’t make my thyroid right. Or, deal with my prostate cancer without drugs that make me tired. I can stave off some of the sarcopenia with resistance work but I can’t make my bones strong without plyometrics and my artificial knee makes them contraindicated.

Or, I can move furniture around on one level, but not between levels. So, Vince. I can’t hold heavy things up anymore. So, Vince. I could clean my own house, yes, but I’ve proven to myself over and over that it feels burdensome, even loathsome. Better to hire Marina’s crew.

The kitchen remodel. Very far from my thing. Staining the house. Putting in mini-splits. Oh so far away from my thing.

Living alone. I like it. But it does require honestly acknowledging my limitations and finding solutions when necessary. Fortunately, I have adequate resources. Not unending, but enough.

Be like a Lodgepile Pine Branch. When the weight gets too heavy, slough it off and spring back. Be like Maxwell Creek, allow gravity to take you back to the World Ocean. Be like Black Mountain. Stand firm in the midst of Storms, give some of yourself that others might grow, stand out on the horizon of your own life. Be like the Mule Deer, find nourishment up high and down low. Be like the Mountain Lion, hunt carefully and unceasingly for what you need. Be like the Black Bear, when what you need is scarce, slow down, way down and cut back your needs.

 

 

Cooking, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Literature, Shadow Mountain

Life. Changing.

Leave a comment

Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Kep. Beside me right now, my new loft dog. And my bed warmer. Furniture moved, clutter being forwarded to new, organized locations. Peter coming to hang Herme. Vince who will hang much of my very big art. A whole wall dedicated to Kate, art she loved. The Ukraine. Resistance to tyranny. Always. The way the world was. The way it might yet be. Kate, always Kate. Our 32nd anniversary on Thursday, March 10th.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

 

Spent yesterday moving furniture. Boxes. Bongs. Dog toys. Judaica. Electronics. Purposeful piles of paper. Collections of recipes not yet put in binders. Oh, and books. Always, books. Five more boxes for donations are beside the door ready to load into Ruby. These will go to Goodwill in Evergreen. Easier.

Scoping out the hanging art situation. Vince will be back.  These suckers are heavy. An antique map of the Big Island, a gift from Kate. The second of two of Jerry’s large landscapes. Four or five pieces including Love is Enough, Kate’s retirement present, and her 75th birthday present. Not yet. Not quite. Have to shim up the bookcase. Do a little more kitchen work. Peter will come for Herme. Hopefully this week.

I can see it now. The bones of the new look are in place. Things may require re-organizing as time goes on and as I see how the spaces get used. The kitchen still has a long way to go. The pantry needs creating. With storage containers and spots for all the appliances, large pots and pan. Winnowing and replenishing. I can finish by mid-March.

It will rock my world in a good way when all the pieces are in place. Including the loft. I’m going to have Marina’s crew clean the loft next week, then dive into finishing the re-organizing I started after Kate’s death. Spring. Renewal and rebirth. New life.

Almost done with the Becky Chamber’s series that began with A Long Way to a Small Angry Planet. This is character work at its most ingenious, fleshing out-as it were-not only human personalities, but Aeulons, Harmagians, and Aandrisks. Read the books to see what they are. Worth it.

Next up is Beginner’s Magic, then Ada Palmer’s work. Or, maybe Overstory by Richard Powers. Ruth’s reading that one so I may break out of my sci-fi thing for lit fic. Now that the common room and my level have achieved near lift off I’ll get to reading more. Including non-fiction. Back to the Irreducible Mind. Breathe. The Werewolf in the Ancient World.

I’ve cut my TV watching in half or more. Reading. Glad. However I do have favorites: The Qin Empire: Alliance, Juvenile Justice. Hotel del Luna. Vox Machina. Pennyworth. The Righteous Gemstones. The Book of Bobba Fett. I love access to tv shows made by different nationalities with their own cultural biases and ways of telling stories. Talking story, as the Hawai’ians call it.

The Qin Empire Alliance is one of those. An historical epic, which I also enjoy, about the Warring States period in China. Serialization of a really long book by Sun Haohui. Same title. Five million words. I mean, wow. He wants the series to run up to a 100 episodes. Hope it does because it’s fascinating. I’d read the book, but it has no English translation yet. The longest book I’ve ever read was not War and Peace, which I have read, but The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, a key classic in Chinese literature with several English translations, most of them bad.

At the most demanding time of Kate’s illness I didn’t have much energy for study or writing. So, I watched TV. My favorite in that time period was Resurrection: Ertugrul. It has five seasons and varied in number of episodes from 76 to 90 per season. It calmed me down to revisit this world for several weeks in a row. I could watch TV and be close to Kate who slept nearby.

Wondering now if writing is my thing, or is study? If it is study, to what end? Or, does there have to be an end? A goal beyond learning. Judaism prizes scholarship with no purpose, no reward. I do, too. Might be another reason why I like Judaism so much.

On to making a Container Store order. Organizing kitchen stuff, cabinet by cabinet, shelf by shelf. Fun.