All posts by Charles

Dogs, Health, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History

Shadow. A Blue win!

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shadow. Whimpering. The only sound she makes. Ginny. Janice. Annie. Luna. Luke. Leo. MVP. Tonight. Hair cut. Jackie and Rhonda. Living with the body as it is. Susan Crawford. The Democrats of Wisconsin. Seed-Keepers all. Elon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Early darkness

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Amy clipped on the leash, allowed Shadow to guide her outside, I cheered as we came closer, step by step, to Shadow in the car with me.

 

Dog journal: The beaver has begun sawing on my bed. She won’t get far. It’s an IKEA. Sturdy. Nothing special until now. Shadow marked for all its time.

This morning I looked up from my pillow and Shadow stood between the bed frame and the wall. Good morning, I said. Soon she whimpered. At 5 am. Well, ok. Probably needs to go out. Nope. Just wanted to play.

Her morning energy level. A force of nature. Standing on her hind legs, reaching for my shoulders. Burrowing in between my legs. Nipping. Soft mouth, Shadow.

Amy came yesterday. Tall, gentle Amy. Got Shadow on the leash. We learned a new game, back and forth. I drop a treat, call her name, let her get the treat, then run a few steps away and do the same. After 5-10 times, end with touch, outstretched hand.

Amy is a good business woman. Her 45 minute sessions are 45 minutes. She works Shadow the whole time. And me. She summarizes the day’s work and e-mails it to me. Her payment system works and she sends out regular notifications of upcoming sessions.

 

Organ recital: Leaning toward giving the nerve ablation a shot. If I could get five to six months of relief… Still, needles. Spine. Back.

Gonna give p.t. a thorough shot first. If my referral can ever make it from Mountain View Pain to Luna home health care. Something not right somewhere. Too many phone calls. Sigh.

Wondering what the back pain tells me. Besides the obvious. A Jungian question. Nature’s way of telling me to slow down, take the watercourse way? Or is it a lesson in humility? You are now old. Perhaps focus on matters close to home? Ready myself for the future, whatever it holds?

 

Just a moment: Susan Crawford for the win in Wisconsin! So glad Wisconsin brushed off the crude and cynical exploits of Elon, the Cheesehead. He managed a patronizing, condescending, billionaire it’s all about the money campaign and lost big time.

A booster shot in the old blue arm for sure. Perhaps we liberals (well, ok. I’m a radical, but for the sake of unity.) can now remember that neither Harris nor Trump got 50% of the vote. Harris=48.3%. Trump= 49.8%. We are many, too. Even though it may not feel like it in the hazy, crazy times of the orange ones first hundred days.

Susan Crawford. Seed-keeper. Reminding us that a 2026 victory garden can grow from ideas and campaign tactics known already.

Do we need more focus on working class Americans? Oh, yes. We do. Does that mean we abandon progressive ideas in other areas? No.

Fourth Phase, Mussar

Will to have no will

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

How about letting the River flow by, twisting here, pooling there, rushing over dams and Rocks and Boulders, always soft, brushing against its Banks, taking a bit of the Soil, other Organic matter, blending it with the Waters of Mountain Streams and Creeks, seeking a path to the World Ocean.

Of course. Really. No choice. The way it goes anyhow. Only difference? Twisting and turning no more. Set in the kayak that holds my life, using the paddle to stay in the current. Let go. Let be. Unloose. Set free.

Cannot shake this desire, this ratzon. This will for my life. Irony. Will to have no will. Desire to have no desire.

It scares me. Unmoored, tethered no more. A Pebble, a speck of Sand carried by forces invisible. Give up the rudder? Who does that? At any age.

Shadow runs through her day. She takes food and water when they come. She rolls and jumps and zooms. Plays. Presses the squeaker on her toys until she wears out. Then she sleeps. Wakes up. Again, the day as it comes.

We Americans, like all advanced civilizations, pride ourselves on bending nature, talent, life, even love to our intention. Manifest, damn it! Our stubbornness, our drive, our will to power create sharp angles, boxes where nature has fractals and curves.

Even the Gods. We pray and create dogma. Box in the sacred. Give its revelation to ancient authors. To rituals. We run from the still small voice as if it were the battle cry of an ogre.

When. If. We stopped for a moment to listen. To see. To wait. To feel the flow of the universe around us, to grant ourselves the freedom to become flotsam on the quantum foam. We would become one with the foam, one with the One. As we are already. No matter our beliefs or attitudes.

I want, no, I will my life to have no will. No intention. No truth. No direction. Float with my Shadow, my home, my friends, my family. Where the River goes.

Dogs, Health

Shadow’s Gift

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: MRI results. Hannah. Mountain View Pain Clinic. Luna Home Physical Therapy. Luke and Leo. Shadow. Toys for aggressive chewers. Our backyard. The Yellow Duck. Early Mountain mornings. Magenta Skies. Snow forecast. Amy coming today. Leash training.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow’s Gift

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

chatgpt

One brief shining: Luke’s website, Soulscape, includes a well-done Bird figure from Dungeons and Dragons, brown pants and green top to symbolize a Tree, his own versions of the Hebrew letters from age 10, several of his newer Hebrew letters in his distinctive white on black style, and a discursus on the letter lamed, a tour de force.

 

 

 

Dog journal: Over the course of our lives together Kate and I loved and cared for 17 Dogs. As you can imagine, I’ve seen many instances of Dog behaviors. None like the one I saw yesterday from Shadow.

Luke and Leo came over. Leo would make 5 of Shadow. He’s a very gentle and kind animal, slower at his advanced age of 12 than when I first met him.

After he and Shadow sniffed all the relevant parts of each other, they went outside to play. Shadow zooming in the back as she loves to do; Leo plowing through the Snow with his head. A lot of play bows, some chasing each other through the Lodgepoles.

When Leo had had enough, he wanted to go back inside, Luke thought for the toys. Leo remembers where the toys are when he comes over. As Luke thought, Leo went straight for the toy bucket. Shadow got a toy, too, and they played separately for a while. Then, Leo got tired of it all and laid down. Shadow continued to play for a bit.

Then she did it. Shadow picked up the toy Tiger in her mouth, went over and dropped it in front of Leo as if giving him a gift. I know it’s easy to over interpret Dog behavior, to project our assumptions about their behavior onto them. But I swear Shadow gave him the toy to play with.

One of the sweetest Dog moments I’ve witnessed.

 

Organ recital: MRI results are in. Oh, boy. My lumbar spine, from L2 to L5 is arthritic and the discs herniated. Lots of nerve pinching up and down. No wonder I’ve got pain.

The herniation I imagine is from the Andover gardening years. Stoop labor. A lot of heavy lifting.

Possible treatments include opiods. No. Physical therapy. Yes. Cane. Maybe. Steriod injections. Probably not. Nerve ablation. Maybe.

All symptomatic. No fixing this back. Problem is I’d need multiple sessions with needles into my spine for either the steroid injections or the nerve ablations. With the steroids, if they help, every three months at least. With the nerve ablations possible six month intervals.

Even so. Needles into my spine? That scares me from a pain perspective and from a That’s My Spine perspective. If it were one and done, sure. But episodically for the rest of my life?

Gonna go with more physical therapy right now. Ponder the needles.

Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, US History

Pain Doc and Chauvinist Economics

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Monday gratefuls: Shadow and her aggressive chewer toys. Perfect. Going in and coming out, less of an issue. Her spirit. Sitting at the Wicked Whisk with Ruth and Gabe. Talking. The spirit of Sound. And the spirit within us. Resonant. Days gone by. My son’s generous spirit. Korea. Murdoch. Luke and Leo coming up today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: In the empty bakery, sold out early of its French pastries, eating the last of the scones, the shortbread almond cookies, and drinking espressos from paper cups, Ruth and Gabe and I talked of parents who died too soon, the excitement of international travel, reincarnation, and the Reformation, as families will on a late Sunday morning when they’re Jewish.

 

Seeing the pain doc today. MRI results. Home P.T. referral. Not too hopeful, but looking for any help I can get. That’s not addictive or surgical. A short list.

Need it even more. The pain has moved across my lower back and now includes my left hip and upper leg. Hope none of it is cancer pain. I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.

Will get a copy of the radiologist’s report. Look for those incidental findings.

 

Luke and Leo coming up this afternoon. Luke will help get my Dell desktop setup. Leo and Shadow can have the backyard, get to know each other.

Once my new desktop functions I plan to introduce Shadow to the stairs. So far she has not learned to go up them and that has confined her to my lower living space. And pretty much me along with her.

I’m a bit reluctant to do it since there’s a whole new world of things to chew upstairs. She’s been really good about the furniture down here. Except for my nightstand. It was not well made.

If she has toys, she prefers them. Most of the time. Like a toddler she embraces distraction. I can put a new toy in front of her and she’ll choose (chews) that over a chair leg.

Right now she has a yellow duck in her mouth, squeaking. Every once in a while, duck held tight, she’ll look up and smile. Warms me.

 

Just a moment: Oh, spare me. Already. Third term floating out there. Can you run the country from a memory unit no matter how high end? Vance runs, then gives the scepter to the Boss. What will there be left to eviscerate?

Do you understand how tariffs raise money for us? Cars will get more expensive. Other goods, too. Inflation will rise. A possible recession. Of which Trump is not afraid. No doubt. All billionaires can continue making money even during a recession. A recession damages labor and those lower on the economic totem pole, i.e., the rest of us.

Reagan practiced supply side, or voodoo economics. Trump practices chauvinist economics and ignores their impact on anything but what his narrow America First agenda prioritizes. Yikes.

Sounds like a planned economy to me. Eh?

 

Dogs, Music, Politics

The Beaver Phase of Dog Development

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow. Kate, always Kate. Snow. Cool night. Throw a Dog a bone. Or a ball. Or a chewed up chew toy. Motion is lotion. Thanks, Diane. Safeway. Cookunity. Ruth and Gabe coming up today. Wicked Whisk.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: MRI

Week kavannah: wu wei

One brief shining: Last night a spiky snow filtered through the screen, settling on my pillow and the part of my head with the least hair, blown on a soft breeze from the north; I turned the electric blanket up to four, snuggled in, and went to sleep.

 

Dog journal: Teething hurts. Puppies pass through a developmental period I think of as the Beaver phase. My nightstand may yet sink a bit lower into the carpet. The coffee table has some damage. The right front leg on my chair. Most of the time I can redirect her energy to a bone, a Kong, a well-chewed toy.

Shadow’s done much less damage than I imagined. She stops when I ask her to or takes whatever distraction is on offer. Also, and most important of all, she does nothing when I leave her alone. This last amazes me and each time I come home to her sleeping beside my chair I throw up a prayer of gratitude to the god of Puppies.

We’ve bonded. Once I get her leash trained, soon, she’ll be with me when I go out. Colorado is the most Dog friendly environment you can imagine. Many restaurants have Water bowls for Dogs. Seating areas where you can dine with your Dog. No frowns or cold stares. Smiles instead.

 

A word about the Aural Journey. It’s in response to Bill Schmidt asking us to queue up some of our favorite songs. Too hard. I went with songs that had strong memories associated with them or ones that evoke deep emotion. If I did the same task right now, five different songs.

In fact. The Cocaine Blues. Ripple by the Dead. Any Gregorian chant. Don’t you need somebody to Love by Jefferson Airplane. You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive, multiple singers. Or. One Toke Over the Line. The Times They Are A Changin. El Senor. Won’t Get Fooled Again. Or. Seven Spanish Angels. Pancho and Lefty. Riders in the Sky. Lucille. Honky Tonk Angel.

It’s a fun exercise. What are your five favorite songs?

 

Just a moment: In the first Trump administration I had a routine I called what has the idiot done now. It involved opening the sites for the New York Times and the Washington Post.

No longer. Now I call it what has the malevolent son-of-a-bitch done this morning. Thinking up clever punishments. So and so’s law firm cannot enter federal buildings. What? Increase tariffs just because. Deport. Deport. Deport.

A strategic crypto-currency reserve? The Gulf of America? Not on my map. We gotta have Greenland? The Panama Canal. Goodbye, Europe. Hello, China enemy number one, sole enemy.

His first hundred days. Oh, God.

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories, Music

Aural Journal

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Alan. Joanne. Marilyn. Irv. Tara. Arjan. Ginny and Janice. Dan. Rich. Ron. Jamie. Laurie. Veronica. Rick. Luke. Leo. Eleanor. Shadow. Gracie. Annie. Luna. Wild Neighbors. Great Sol. Colorado Blue Sky. Shadow Mountain. Rock. Soil. Trees. Creeks. Valleys. Clouds. Atmosphere. Seasons.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Songs that we love, that drive our hearts mad, dredge up detailed glimpses of experience past, send our souls into spiritual ecstasy, make our feet begin to tap and our body begin to sway, what is this strange hold sound has over us?

 

 

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase

My Heart Wants This

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Friday gratefuls: Shadow. Digestion. Alan. Cool nights. Shadow’s toys. The Duck, almost rended. The Chipmunk. Unidentifiable. My nightstand. Gnawed. Puppies, eh? On liberation. And wandering. Tolkien. Moorcock. Britain. England. Scotland. Wales. Cornwall. Ruth and Gabe. Lox.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow running with a nerf football

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure.

One brief shining: A paw, a lick, a pushup on her two hind feet and her butt Shadow greets me with a full body hug, mouth open sharp puppy teeth snagging my sweatshirt, eyes wide with love.

 

Several things flashing signs at me. Diane, “Your job is to stay healthy.” After retirement. That way others who need you can still find you above ground. A song as TV background, “You just gotta let go and everything will be all right.” Wu wei.

Began to think about my odd path to this age. Left the work force at 43. Kate, always Kate. Wrote 9 novels. Gardened. Cooked. Cared for Dogs. Did grocery shopping. Kept Bees. A Docent for 12 years. Living the life of a suburban housewife.

After our move to Colorado, I did all the fire mitigation: cutting down the Trees, delimbing, bucking, moving slash. Still shopping and cooking. Caring for the Dogs. Then, Kate. Her death.

Four years later Shadow and I reside here at Shadow Mountain Home.

Never really had that clean break with the work world most folks experience at retirement. My work became my daily life and the meaning, the purpose Dogs, Kate, grandkids. Writing.

Listening to my heart now. What is mine to do? The hermit life (with benefits-friends and family) has begun to appeal to me again. This time as an expression of the fourth phase, the spiritual wanderer, the Fool of the major arcana. Also as an expression of a retreat from my previous world of politics and action. My version of retirement.

I’m old enough. I’ve earned it with a life of action and service, by coping well with serious illness, by having a wonderful environment and home.

A part of me says no. No. Judaism runs, in some ways, across this decision. Rabbi Tarfon, “You are not duty-bound to finish the work, but on the other hand, you have no right to waste time from it…” Using age and infirmity as an excuse rather than a reason.

The activist in me says everything is political. Even this decision because it leaves the playing field to MAGA and the world of the autocrats. If everybody followed my choice.

Yet. I feel the need to take a breath. To lay down my sword and shield, down by the Riverside. To become the Taoist scholar of those wonderful Song dynasty paintings.

Let the hours and the days, the months and the years wash over me. Become. Live in becoming rather than doing.

My heart wants this. Long habit and a felt pressure from the Tarfon’s of this world (including and most telling, my inner Tarfon) pushes against letting go. Letting the world go on, in a sense, without me.

Dogs, Memories, Music

Songs and Dogs

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Audra. Open-Sided MRI. Chris. Engineers. Angry Chicken. Driving home into the Mountains. Black Mountain. Shadow Mountain. Conifer Mountain. Berriman Mountain. Lenticular Clouds. Cumulus. Cirrus. Rain and Snow.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Magnetism

Week Kavannah:  Ratzon.  Will, desire, pleasure.

One brief shining: Looking into Audra’s eyes, feeling her hand on mine, her thumb moving, not erotic, but intimate as Lorentz forces caused the big machine to pound and grind and whir in rhythmic waves of sound while the magnets created detailed slices of my lumbar spine.

 

Glad that’s over with. Should have adequate information about my lumbar spine. As I noted earlier, there may not be much to do though we can target any therapy with accuracy after this.

Ironically the drive in and out left me hobbling into the house when I got back.

Shadow takes my absence with aplomb. She does not chew things up, poop or pee. She seems to rest quietly beside my chair. A huge bonus. Could be otherwise.

 

Dog journal: Shadow sleeps under the bed at night. I opened the bedroom door a couple of days ago for her. Not perfect. She chews the bed slats, the carpet (which I intend to replace at some point), my nightstand. Doesn’t last long. Impacts my getting to sleep a bit. Worth it since she seems happy back in her original safe place here.

I flagged off Amy this last Tuesday. Didn’t have enough energy for her session and the drive into Sushi Den with Ruth. Chose Ruth. Desensitizing Shadow to the leash does not go well; I need Amy’s guidance. Next Tuesday.

Had her toys in a long wicker basket. Each night I would pick them up, put them back. Over the course of the next day she’d pluck them out, play with them. The used to be chipmunk, purple cat, a long red Kong and a small black one, four different balls including a glow in the dark one, and three individual socks: one of Seoah’s, one of my son’s, and one of mine.

Then she began to chew on the wicker. Going up to the loft to grab a large stainless steel bucket as her next toy bin. Chew on that, Shadow!

 

Just a moment: Bill Schmidt has asked us to load up our favorite songs for the Ancient Brothers. That’s gonna be tough.

The Doors. The Stones. The Beatles. The Animals. The Monkeys. Country Western. 50’s doo wop. Teen anguish songs. The Who. Led Zeppelin. Creedence. The Band. Dylan. Coltrane. Miles Davis. Thelonious Monk. Aaron Copland. George Gershwin.

Let’s do a trial run here. Surrealistic Pillow by Jefferson Airplane. Wild Horses by the Stones. Satisfaction by the Stones. The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down by The Band. The Weight by the Band. Venus in Blue Jeans. Teen Angel. Dead Man’s Curve. The House of the Rising Sun by the Animals. Blue Train by Coltrane. Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. Ain’t No Grave Gonna Keep My Body Down. Going Down To the River To Pray. When Will the Circle Be Unbroken. See You in September. The Queen of the Silver Dollar. Jolene.

Well. It’s a start.

 

 

Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Neighbors Helping Neighbors

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Wanted to capture this while fresh. Drove into Leetsdale Ave near Cherry Creek in Denver. Right at the boundary of the largest Jewish community in Colorado. But I wasn’t there for religious reasons, I needed an MRI of my lumbar spine and Open-Sided MRI has its clinic there.

After time in an iron lung, which I do not remember, my body will not let my head be confined. At all. Ever. Traditional MRI’s therefore are out. Long metal tube, human insert. Face inches from the tube’s top. Nope.

So. Open-Sided. Though. When the sled slid under the projection of the magnetic circle, I looked up, found metal inches from my face. “I can’t do this.”

Chris pulled me back out. How about if you look to the side. I tilted my head to the left and there an opening appeared. But I was already scared. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll get Audra and she can sit with you.”

A measure of serendipity. I’d talked to Audra on the phone Monday and discovered she had moved to Conifer last October. She had a quick wit and kindness in her voice. We agreed to swap stories of best spots to eat when I got there. A charming woman in her late 30’s, early 40’s I found her delightful at check-in, too.

Audra came in and held my hand for the entire 20 minutes of the exam. At first, still nervous, I looked her in the eyes and she pressed her thumb against my left hand which she held in her right.

After a while the odd noises of the MRI, which sounded like House music, and her comfort helped me relax. I closed my eyes.

A long twenty minutes. But, when it was done, I collected my disc with the scan on it, went out to the front desk and thanked Audra, back at her computer, again. She put my chai necklace back on.

I thought, decided to go ahead. “My wife died four years ago. That was the longest I’ve been touched since then. Regardless of the help I needed with the MRI, I wanted to say thanks for that, too.”

A sweet moment.

 

Family, Fourth Phase, Politics

Dining with Ghosts

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shadow and the deconstructed bed. Ruth at 19. Almost. Sushi Den. Ruth driving. The Black Bag. Gabe. His junior year. Tom, Chris, Calvin, Joseph. Men. Learning about men. CBE men’s group. Psylocibin. Miso Soup. Warmer weather. For now. Reading. Movies.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

Week Kavannah:  Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure

One brief shining: Ruth, whisper thin, engaged and thoughtful, nearing her April 4th 19th birthday, poised between the teen years and young adulthood, presented yesterday with her great-grandfather’s black bag which contained Kate’s stethoscopes, otoscope, small rubber hammer, tuning fork, and other essentials of the general practitioner’s craft.

 

Lima, Peru. 2011

Ruth drove up here yesterday and stayed the night so she could drive us both into Denver to Sushi Den.

We ate there for her sixteenth birthday. I asked the waiter to have the sushi chefs give us what was special that evening. Ended up being the most expensive meal I’ve ever paid for. But so fun.

16

She was with Cord, her first boyfriend. Jon and Gabe were there, too. Kate had died the April before. The first of Ruth’s birthdays that she missed.

Three years later, her father Jon is dead, and two years ago the relationship with Cord ended.

She and I sat down in a booth for two near the bar. Dining with ghosts. We ordered a Shrimp tempura appetizer in honor of Kate who happily watched the rest of us eat raw fish while dining on tempura. Ruth remembered her dad ordering communal sushi.

We offered tempura and sushi to the memory of Kate and Jon, mother and son, wife and father. In the way of ghosts they ate only the invisible essence of the food, leaving the rest to nourish the bodies of the living, the left behind.

Starting next year in a new major, Integrative Physiology-as I mentioned in an earlier post-Ruth has set herself on the path of her childhood dreams. Becoming the third generation of Johnson-Olsons to become a doctor.

Hence my decision to gift her the black bag which I have, up till now, featured on my mantle as a memory of Kate.

May she live long and prosper.

 

Just a moment: Gee. The clown cars on Pennsylvania Avenue have so many red and orange haired folks sticking out, horns honking, big feet flapping, noses bulbous that a guy can’t help feeling entertained.

Until that moment. Wait a minute. These clowns, these very clowns have their hands on the controls of the world’s most powerful military. Not to mention the economy. And the regular checks for our country’s most impoverished citizens. And, and, and.

Not to mention. Sealing the deal honk, honk. Throw confetti in the air. Why not invite the editor-in-chief of the Atlantic magazine into a nuts and bolts discussion about bombing Yemenites further back into yesterday? Seemed like a good idea at the time?

Thought this line from Timothy Snyder, quoted by Heather Richardson on March 24th captures the truth: “Foreign policy scholar Timothy Snyder posted: “These guys inherited one of the most functional state apparatus in the history of the world and they are inhabiting it like a crack house.””