Category Archives: Friends

Conversion on again

Fall and the Samain Moon

Friday gratefuls: BA canceled my flight. So, I can get a refund. Parking refunded. Tour group money held over for a trip next year. All resolved for now. With some money coming. Conversion. At Temple Emmanuel mikveh. Last week of November. Mussar. Evergreen Market. Sugar Jones. Rabbi Jamie. Zionism. Very good workout. 2 sets of resistance. Luke. Anne. Darkness my old friend. Sounds of Silence. The 60’s. Jackie. Her and Ronda’s sweetness. Her sauna. Growing my beard out.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ritual purity

One brief shining: Ruth called yesterday wanting to know if she and her friends could have a Friendsgiving at my house, of course I said, and checked in with her about an evening out at Dazzle, the jazz club, next Saturday works for her so so good to talk with her, hear Mia on the phone saying hi Grandpa, and her other friends saying hi. Made this old man happy.

 

I’ve taken Mia in as a granddaughter from another family. She was so helpful and kind when I had to euthanize Kep, helping the vet carry him up the stairs, staying with Ruth while Kep died. Mia grew up on Oahu, moving here when her father’s biochemical company needed better access to the U.S. as a whole. She even said she missed me. Aw.

 

Yesterday was busy. Diane in the morning. Then an intense and good workout. Going up on weights on some exercises. Back exercises added in. After that a shower and over to Jackie’s Aspen Roots hair salon. Was gonna be a sprucing up before my trip. Both Jackie and Ronda were glad I’m not going to Israel. I’ve never had so many people happy about a trip I’m not taking. As I left Jackie turned to Ronda and said, we’re going to have to start looking for someone for Charlie. Uh-oh.

 

From Jackie’s straight to CBE for Thursday mussar and my second conversion education session with Rabbi Jamie. In both the mussar setting and my session with him after the focus was Israel/Hamas. The topic for our session had been Zionism which can be seen as the proximate cause of the struggle Israel and its Arab neighbors have faced since its founding.  That is, it was the Zionist movement of the late 19th century which set off the chain of events creating a Jewish state in 1948. Immediately after Israeli nationhood Egypt, Syria, and Jordan attacked it with the stated goal of pushing the Jews into the ocean. The Arabs lost the war. But the conflicts signaled in that first military action may have changed actors from time to time, but not the goal of eliminating a Jewish presence in the Middle East.

 

When we moved onto my conversion, I said I wanted to get it done as soon as practicable. A little cold for going to a flowing stream or lake for a naked plunge. Though I would have been up for that. We settled on a newer mikveh, a ritual bath that has to be connected to flowing water, built by Temple Emmanuel, a large Reform congregation in south Denver.

Discovered that Joann Greenberg had asked to be a community representative in my beit din, house of judgement, or rabbinic court. That surprised and pleased me. I have about a half hour interview with her, Rabbi Jamie, and a third Rabbi yet to be named who will also be the one who draws a spot of blood from my penis. Then, naked immersion in the mikveh. And I’m part of the Jewish community for ever and a day.

Rabbi Jamie also asked me which parsha I wanted for my conversion week. A parsha is the long weekly section of Torah that allows the entire five books of Moses to be read through in a year. At first I thought, wha? Then I got it. I want the parsha with Jacob at the Jabbok Ford wrestling an angel. That story I consider paradigmatic of my own spiritual journey. If you know the story, Jacob’s name changes that night to Israel, one who struggles with God. That story shows up this year in late November which is why the conversion will be then.

 

Mountain Life

Fall and the Samain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: A cool night. Good sleeping. Marilyn and Irv. Good friends. Learning. Israel. British Airways. American Airlines. Travel. Spinal stenosis. Mary and her good work with me. Ruby and her steadfastness. Her cracked and cracking windshield. Stinkers. Safeway. Aspen Perks. Tara tomorrow. Kate. My sweetheart. Ruth and Gabe. Judaism. My inner world. Yours.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Inner life

One brief shining: One night I meditated as I first got into bed letting thoughts come and go not holding on to them got to a state of calm, no ideas flowing and I could feel my brain reaching out with black tendrils wanting to find any stray nugget, an image, a word, a slice of an idea to wrap onto, react to, absorb and use.

 

I find the big news today the dog that didn’t bite. Israel has not yet launched its ground assault on Gaza. Thomas Friedman suggested yesterday that the best thing Israel could do right now is to not invade. It would show a humanitarian approach to the war in stark contrast to the murderous rampage that began with the Hamas incursion. Could still happen of course but remember Israel gave a 24 hour notice to Gaza north a couple of days ago.

 

The Israel/Hamas war has so captured me that I’ve not followed our orange Julius’ various trials. Suppose he’s still in trouble. At least I hope so. Although the more indictments and gag orders he gets, the better his poll numbers in the GOP race. Has to be one of the more puzzling and frankly disconcerting pieces of political news in my lifetime. The more criminality revealed the more supporters he gets!

Not to mention of course the specter of Jim Jordan as Speaker of the House. And the brave odd group of Republicans in his way. We’re a nation without a capacity to govern, hemmed in by a Supreme Court wedded to a strange mode of interpreting the Constitution, while preparing for a presidential race next year that could feature old white men. Again. How we got to this point will be a subject of monographs, monologues, books, movies, and cartoons for years to come.

 

Had breakfast with Marilyn and Irv yesterday. At Primo’s, a cafe just down the hill from them in King’s Valley. Talked about travel. Marilyn’s indefatigable. She’s been to Berliz, Scotland, Arizona, and New York City just this year. She gave some tips about getting my money back from British Airways. Gonna give it the old college try. If not, I’ll travel in the spring to Israel on my own. Using Keshet as my private tour agency.

Today is busy. Diane. Workout. Haircut. Mussar. Rabbi Jamie on Zionism. A session for my conversion. We’ll discuss what to do now that Israel’s not going to happen. Tomorrow, too. Tara breakfast. RSV vaccine. Lutheran Spine Center. CBE kabbalat shabbat, welcoming the sabbath. Part of my own commitment to the conversion process is regular attendance at Friday evening services.

 

 

Seven Stones

Fall and the Samain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Stones. Unveiling. That metal red heart. Judy. Rabbi Jamie. Mussar. Seven Stones. Remembering. Anne. Tara. Barbara. Marilyn. Susan. Mary. Keshet. British Airways. Israel. Back pain. Nerve glides. Core exercises. Naps. Brook Forest Black Fox. Killed. Israel. Biden. Hamas. Hezbollah. Travel. Conversion. Judaism. My people. War. Peace. Kate, always Kate

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Unveiling

One brief shining: Rabbi Jamie and I walked along cobblestone paths, past sculpture, past memorials carved in stone, past a columbarium, past a small pond and large green lawn which had a hill and gravestones, to the metal red heart of the pet cemetery where I had placed ashes of 15 of Kate and mine’s canine friends: Celt, Sorsha, Morgana, Scot, Tira, Tully, Buck, Iris, Hilo, Kona, Emma, Tor, Orion, Gertie, and Vega.

 

Up and out at 7:30 am yesterday for an 8:10 appointment with Mary, my physical therapist at Bergen Park P.T. in Evergreen. Mary is a keeper. She’s smart, kind, knowledgeable, encouraging. And Korean. She’s got me setup for handling my back issues over time, including during more travel. P.T. exercises like nerve glides (opening space in the spine) and core muscle work for times when things begin to flare. Strength training overall for better stability. Mary also wrote a summary of her work and findings that I can take to the physiatrist when I visit Lutheran Spine Center on Friday.

 

Later in the day I drove to Chatfield and Seven Stones cemetery. Judy Sherman’s unveiling. You may recall Judy was my friend who died last year, choosing death with dignity after five years of ovarian cancer. In the Jewish tradition a gravemarker unveiling occurs at least 11 months after a death. As Rabbi Jamie explained it, the reason for the tradition is a belief that the soul of the deceased stays around for a year to be sure their loved ones are all right. After the unveiling (a canvas covering was over Judy’s gravemarker), the soul can leave this realm. In certain Jewish traditions it is believed the soul returns to the Garden of Eden.

Whatever the metaphysics the unveiling offers a time a year after a death to gather, to memorialize. Similar to the yahrzeit which acknowledges the date of death according to the Jewish lunar calendar.

We also placed stones at Judy’s marker. This tradition, which I asked Rabbi Jamie about as I placed a stone at the red heart in the pet cemetery, participates in the burial. It comes from the necessity in ancient times of placing rocks on a grave to prevent depredation by wildlife. It also marks a visit.

Judy underwent aquamation. Water cremation. The water from her cremation feeds a pine tree growing next to her marker. The marker itself was communal and had room for 12 names.

Seven Stones is a beautiful and thoughtful cemetery. There are spots for aquamation, for scattering ashes, a columbarium, a place for caskets, several places for memorial stones. The cemetery has modern sculpture throughout, cobblestone paths, and lots of trees. Made me want to have a memorial, something I’ve not considered before. Maybe something for Kate and me. Since the dogs are there already.

 

The Abyss Stares Back

Fall and the Samain Moon

Monday gratefuls: Reimagining the Divine. Toba Spitzer. Israel. Hamas. Hezbollah. Anti-semitism. Peace in the valley. American Airlines. Canceled all flights to Tel Aviv till December 4th at the earliest. Evergreen Market. The darkness. The ohr. The mice. The Rat Zapper. A conversation about Israel at CBE yesterday. Fear. Anger. Rage. Deep sadness. Confusion. Overwhelmed. Helpless and hopeless. Why do they hate us? How can we help? Kepler. Murdoch. Rigel. Vega. Gertie. Kate, always Kate. Ruth and Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Deep emotion

One brief shining: The guy with the blue kippa and long straggly beard, Ron standing tall and sad, Marilyn in shock, Rabbie Jamie with the microphone hoping to hold the congregation together, faces and names projected on a screen-members on zoom, we gathered not trying to understand but to feel our way through this long old dark tunnel. Again.

 

This palpable fear is new to me. A friend took the microphone at CBE and talked about it. Having felt safe in Evergreen for eighteen years. Now. Fear has crept in, making those who thought maybe this time, maybe this place. But no. The world reaches out and grabs Jews by the shoulder. Hey, pay attention! This will never be over.

Why do they hate us? Why do they kill us? Will they kill me? My children? My parents? My friends?

And I know you may be tired of this long story now in its tenth day or its third millennium, I’m sorry but this is front of mind for me and my friends right now. I can’t look away. Once each generation someone said. Ron said he was twelve during the Yom Kippur war. A sign at a rally: Never Again is Now!

This is the hard part for a non-Jew to understand. The visceral, perhaps even inherited trauma of centuries of pogroms, holocausts, violent hatred. The way an attack like the Hamas made on Saturday is not an event, not a singular instance, but another one. Calling to mind the Cossacks attacking the shetls, the gunman in Pittsburgh, the ghettos in European cities, the Nazis and their latter day admirers marching in MAGA parades, the parade in Skokie, the anti-Jew and Black real estate covenants in American cities. All remembered. All resisted bravely until. The fear rises again.

Followed by or experienced with a deep sadness. For grandparents dead in the ovens. For children slaughtered in their homes. For an existence  always threatened. For a life lived like others that is unavailable.

Of course, too. Anger. Rage. The desire to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To be. Not to just be, to live,  to thrive. With agency that turns away hatred by any means necessary. Danger. Danger. Danger.

When staring into the abyss…

And, of course, the rules of war. The rules of humans in rage states. When blood lust can take over, run the show. Yes, especially then, the rules of war. Especially then. Do not let the monster we fear become who we are. All so, so hard. All so complex. All so, well, human.

Cancel Culture

Fall and the Samain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: My colon. Meds. My son, Seoah, Murdoch. Songtan. Evergreen. Conifer. Pine. Bailey. Us Mountain folk. Those down the Hill. Stars in the night Sky. Great Sol. Israel. Hamas. The rules of war. War. The USAF. Diane. Tom. The Ancient Brothers. This computer, now so old yet still at work. Palestinians. Israelis. Lebanese. Iranians. All human. Difference. So potent. The Fox yesterday at Upper Maxwell Falls. Aspen’s lighting the way toward heaven. Toward the light in the inner sky. Fall in the Rockies.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: 21 degrees right now

One brief shining: My neighbors and I have only one evacuation route, left or right, toward Conifer or Evergreen, and if wildfire comes we’ll pile up on it in haste like the Gazans now trying to leave the north of an already small territory, the wildfire has come for them in the form of the IDF, a human wildfire stoked by rage and vengeance, what we here in the Lodgepole forest would call a crown fire.

 

First thing now I look at Haaretz, then Yediot, then the Jerusalem Times. Later I scan the NYT and the WP. Not sure what I’m looking for, trying to find a way through this thicket of information. One that doesn’t end in news I don’t want to see or hear. No luck with that so far.

I feel like I can have a good grasp of what’s going on at least at a macro level, but at the point of individuals and families, suffering. No. I think of my son and his family first value. Must be the same with Israelis and Palestinians. Right? What does, can that mean in the current context?

Speaking of context. I found this opinion piece by Haaretz columnist, Anshel Pfeffer, very astute on the larger and historical context anti-semitism places on the Israeli/Hamas struggle: The Inconvenient Context: Palestinians Massacred Jews for Being Jews

As of this writing, I’m 98% sure I’m not going. Diane rolls her eyes here. Why not 100%? Well. You know. Until we all discuss it together I won’t decide for sure.

Several couples have already canceled their flights and Keshet, our tour operator, will send out a letter on Monday or Tuesday outlining our options with them. I hope postponing is the favorite option. I’m willing to let them hold onto my money if that will help them survive this crisis. Not keep it. But hold onto it until another tour can get scheduled.

 

Meanwhile American Republicans rise to this escalating military and humanitarian crisis by failing to choose a speaker for the House. By supporting their felonious candidate who dodges debates and acts like a spoiled child angry at his parents. By trying to force the government into a shutdown. Again.

We, the world hegemon, cannot act within our own system of governance. How can we expect to be guarantors for any one else?

Read an interesting analysis that suggested the Ukrainian and Hamas/Israeli situations might be linked to our waning power as hegemon. Regional actors may feel emboldened to just go for it in situations where the threat of U.S. intervention would have given them pause in the past.

This is called multi-polarity, a world in which no one power dominates. Hope this is wrong.

 

Israel. A bit more

Fall and the Harvest Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Israel. Blinken. Biden. Hamas. Hezbollah. Iran. Mark in Saudi. Diane. Tom. Rain, cold Rain. News. Korea. North Korea. South Korea. Seoah and her family. My boy. Mary in K.L. Songtan. Osan. Shadow Mountain. Starlink. Creative Audio. Newspapers. Justice. A many splintered thing. Spinal stenosis. P.T. Mary. Murdoch. Kepler and Rigel. Gertie and Vega. Kate, always Kate. Jon. Ruth. Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: P.T.

One brief shining: When an American Secretary of State says I come here as Jew and as a Jew who lost family in the Holocaust, when he says Israel will never stand alone, when the President of the United States declares the acts of Hamas evil and sends an aircraft carrier support group, when Jews lie dead in their home victims of ideologically sanctioned murder, then we know the enemy, the ones who hate Jews, hate Israel, and will not allow their own humanity to impede their actions.

 

Got a note from Expedia today. Your travel to Israel may be affected. Go to your airlines website. I did. Yep. Can cancel with no charge for travel between Oct. 7th and December 4th. Also. No flights until December 5th at the earliest. Well, that about does it for the trip. I’ll wait until Sunday to cancel my flight, see what others plan to do, but if we can’t fly there we can’t go. What that means for the Keshet trip? Uncertain. Probably postpone. Maybe cancel instead and rebook.

Having the trip planned. Hamas’ invasion. Reading Jewish newspapers. Learning about Golda Meir and other Israeli leaders during times of military peril. Studying Israel and Zionism for my next session with Rabbi Jamie on the 19th. Dancing with the Torah on Friday night as Hamas readied its fighters. Meeting yesterday morning with Geoff and others who also planned on this trip. An immersion in Jewish life. In the dark and lonely side of what it means to be a Jew. A heightened and deepened inner knowledge of the dream of Israel and its physicality, its critical importance for Jewish life in the diaspora.

Oh.

Like many, perhaps most of Beth Evergreen fearing too for the Palestinians in Gaza. For the also dream of a Palestinian state. For a permanent and viable solution to this awful, unjust life for them, for Israel, for Jews everywhere. For justice.

No to murder of civilians and the taking of civilian hostages. No to anti-semitism. No to terror. No to Hamas and Hezbollah and Iran in their hatred of Jews. No. No. No.

How to hold both of these feelings at such a time? How? Both necessary, both just, both compassionate. The world has its contradictions, its pain, its seemingly unresolvable conflicts. Look for a moment at our own country. Red and blue. MAGA and the rest of us. Ireland. China and the Uighurs. Afghanistan. Armenia. India. Sri Lanka. I suppose in each of these situations there are those torn by loyalties that seem irreconcilable.

Some must live with their hearts opened, their eyes clear, their minds knowing. Mustn’t they?

 

Decisions

Fall and the Harvest Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Rain changing to Snow. Cool nights. Israel. Hamas. Hezbollah. Iran. The Middle East. Shirley Septic. Home. CBE. Reasons to go to Israel. Reasons to not go. Mike. Sandy. Jamie. Bill. Steve. The Kaufmans. Islam. Judaism. Christianity. Taoism. Buddhism. Hinduism. Zoroastrianism. Santeria. Voodoo. Animism. Paganism. The search for meaning, purpose. Rabbi Jamie, a wise man. Geoff of Keshet. Shiva. Showing up for those who mourn. The Bernsteins. Rebecca. Leslie. Kate, always Kate of blessed memory.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Lev, the heart/mind

One brief shining: A cardboard box of coffee, a tray with lox, capers, onions, tomatoes, bagels and schmear, blueberry muffins on the table, a zoom linked television screen above it, possible travelers to Israel around it, talking of fear of wanting joy of grandchildren who didn’t want them to go of money of changed purpose of options.

 

Geoff the Keshet rep who lives in Israel attended our 8 am meeting. Originally scheduled for last minute details, passing out luggage tags, gathering the excitement into a group moment. All changed by Hamas and its invasion of Israel during Simchat Torah. Geoff had a serious face, not the usual smiling travel host persona. He told of his three children in the reserves now called up. Two in safer places, one stationed near the Gaza strip. His voice broke. Stopped. He talked of his sixteen year old and his eleven year old at home. Torn between business and difficult family and political reality.

I felt sad for him. The conversation passed that feeling by though in favor of: My wife and I have talked. This is not the trip we want. We wanted to celebrate Israel, find joy. Also, Delta airlines has stopped flying to Ben Gurion. And. I have personal reasons, health challenges. My kids and my grandkids don’t want me to go and I can’t leave them with that worry. And. This doesn’t feel like the right time to be a tourist. Even my friends in Israel are saying don’t come. And. Our tradition is clear. We show up for those who mourn. Shiva. Showing up whether you know the mourner or not.

Some shift. Well, if we could help. If the trip could have a different purpose. And. I will not let fear make my decision. Terrorism is about instilling fear and I won’t let the terrorists have that win. (echoes of G.W.)

At some point during this subdued but intense conversation I asked to speak. Geoff, I know the business side of this is important, but I wanted you to know that I felt sad when you began the meeting. Wanted you to know that. Others followed. The conversation shifted again. Reasons to go, reasons still not to go.

I’m for showing up, I said. A few nodded. Others remained ready to cancel or postpone. Let’s set a date for making a decision. We did. This coming Sunday at 3 pm before an all congregational gathering to discuss the Israel/Hamas war.

Afterward I went to Mike who had mentioned prostate cancer as his health challenge. I have it, too. We talked a bit. Discovered that we’re both recently off all the drugs, now in the waiting period to see what affect all the treatments have had. Both of us to have blood work after the Israel trip. Life, and cancer, goes on.

 

Healing

Fall and the Harvest Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Sue Bradshaw. A quiet day. Discussing medical insurance with Julie Freshman. Alan. Tom. Diane. Joan. Marilyn. Irv. A bright blue Colorado morning. A cold night. Deep friendships. Agency. Loss of Agency. Contraction. Twins win! Baseball. Gabe. Ruth’s senior pictures. Songtan. My son. Osan. CBE. Ron. Rich. Jamie. Susan. Judy. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The power of conversation

One brief shining: The smell of coffee comes up from the kitchen, the computer screen is blank waiting to be filled with today’s words sent from my mind to yours, and the heat pump rattles along squeezing hot air from the cooler air outside and pushing it inside.

 

Ah. The refreshing feel of a therapeutic conversation. Got off zoom with my buddy Tom and I feel cranked up and ready to go. The good morning time. MVP tonight. A day of friends and depth. I need it. As Tom and I discussed, feeling off center, not quite with it, in a malaise offers fertile ground for the Well of Sorrows to rise and become your whole consciousness. Saying that out loud to a friend who understands? Healing. Thanks, Tom, and in advance, all you MVP’ers. Especially Rich who is bringing the whole meal tonight. Cheese enchiladas and fixings. Yay, Rich.

 

Tomorrow I begin P.T. at Berrigan P.T. in the Buchanan Rec Center in Evergreen. The first step on a way back from this back kerfuffle. Mr. Lee and the Korean orthopedist calmed down my flare but I need a plan for my back I can follow. P.T.’s a good start.

Today I call the Lutheran Spine Center. They’ll work up my back more thoroughly than my Korean folks did. What the Korean guy would have done eventually. Between the two, p.t. and the Spine Center, I’ll figure out a way to organize my workouts to make my back as strong as it can be.

There is, I know, a chance they’ll tell me not to go to Israel. Apparently long walks are not good for spinal stenosis. And Israel is one long walk after another. I’ll still go and stay at least through the conversion and the Jerusalem leg of the group trip. Might choose to come home then rather than complete the itinerary. We’ll see. This is why I hopped on this so fast after getting back. Want to give myself maximum options.

 

How bout that Matt Gaetz? He showed Amurica. What a petty, narrow-minded, weasel can do if he doesn’t get what he wants for Christmas. Oh, wait. This is the United States Congress. Right? Hard to identify. I suggest we put in a playground with a see-saw, a sandbox, and a slide. After all these are the people running the most powerful country on earth. They should have what they need to relieve the stress of it all.

Oh. And another aspect of this. Guess who Marjorie Tyler Greene’s only candidate for speaker is? Donald Trump. That’s right. The Donald, that old fraudster. Wonder if she plans to hire Rudy as his aide?

 

 

 

This and that

Fall and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: A pink Cumulus Cloud over Black Mountain. The start of a new Day. A new life resurrected from the 1/60th death of sleep. Each Day a full book in the library of life. The vast wing dedicated to each life. Yours. Mine. The Mule Deer and the Butterfly. Rain. Fall weather this week. My son and his sweet note. Gabe. The Rockie’s game that wasn’t. Twins playing last year’s winner of the World Series in the playoffs. House cleaning today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Life, the wonder and the miracle

One brief shining: Small drops of Water hit my deck this morning, taking the Mouse trap outside to make  an offering to the Ravens, the dead mouse would not come out.

 

Yes. When I got back it was late September and the Mice had made a new incursion. When I went to get my electric Mouse trap out, I noticed a blinking red light. The sign of a killed Mouse. ? Sure enough, in the worst decision of its short life, this particular Mouse had chosen the Mouse trap as its home.

I don’t like killing mice. It makes me sad, feel guilty, puts me in a category of human behavior I never aspire to. Yet my team that came to help me clean a couple of years ago made me get over it. Too much of a health risk. And, I know. I know. Hamburgers. Bacon. Chicken wings. Who ever said contradiction was not a part of life? Even so.

 

Slept well the last two nights. Colon less vigilant. Yay. Jet lag waning, as it will. Perhaps today, maybe tomorrow I’ll shake free of Korea’s Sun and return to the one under which I now live. These transitions go unremembered after a journey is over. Their price part of the experience like airfare and taxis.

 

Fall in the Rockies. A distinctive time here, one I’m glad I didn’t miss. The bugling of the Elk Bull’s searching for mates. Hyperphagic Bears tipping over garbage cans, raiding cars, going into houses after a portion of the 20,000 calories a day they need before their long nap. The Aspen’s gold, muted this year, against the evergreen of the Lodgepoles. Signs for snowplowing, ads. The Mountain Lions hunting for the straggling Mule Deer, the startled Rabbit. Skies as blue and as pure as new born Fawns, reflected in Mountain Streams and Lakes. The weather becoming more unstable, veering between heat and cold, changing. Nights that go into the electric blanket zone. Days that feel warm in the sun, cold in the shade. All of us, humans and wild neighbors, making sure we’re ready for the cold season that follows.

 

If you read the NYT, you will find in this morning’s edition an article about Bishop Joseph Strickland: A Texas Bishop Takes on the Pope. It’s rare that I have a personal connection to any stories featuring Catholicism coming of good Protestant stock and about to become a Jew. In this case though. Paul Strickland, Joseph’s older brother, is and has been a close friend of mine for over thirty years. He’s one of the Ancient Brothers who meet by zoom each Sunday morning.

Paul and all of us Ancient Brothers have a very different take on the world than Joseph. Yet. Not a surprise that Joseph is articulate, strong, and determined. Like Paul. Not a surprise that Joseph has catalyzed others. Like Paul and the 10,000 Friends of the Maine Coast which prevented a huge LPG terminal from taking over the tiny Maine town in which he lives. Even folks in the news have families.

 

 

Looking toward Korea

Fall and the Harvest Moon

Saturday gratefuls: The Harvest Moon. Mabon. Lake Superior on Michaelmas. Tom and Roxann. At Lutsen Lodge for dinner-with Goose chowder. Northern Minnesota. Missed. My son, Seoah, and Murdoch home from Chuseok in Okgwa. Alan and Joan. Jackie and Ronda. Life in the embrace of the Mountains. Jetlag. Jet planes. Time and movement. So much to do, so little energy to do it. A sign I saw. Ha. Nailed it. The drive to Evergreen. The Bread Lounge. Back in the Mountains, driving on Black Mountain and Brook Forest Drive. The world of an out of joint mind.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Waters of the Great Lake Superior

One brief shining: The curve of Black Mountain from south to west, a tight curve heading away from home toward Upper Maxwell Falls, early Fall Leaf peepers already up and at the trailhead, pushing past Brook Forest Inn and its beaten down Livery Barn, a left at the fish ladder for a jaunt past Lower Maxwell Falls, two cars only, on to the inevitable and perennial Road Work ahead, this time  work on our gas pipelines, orange safety jackets complementing the golden Aspen Leaves, after the sweeping curve comes Kate’s Creek, and finally Hwy 73 which rolls on into Evergreen.

 

Jet lag, which I pronounced almost gone yesterday afternoon, slipped back in over night. If it were a game of finally fitting the full face mask on straight, I’d have about a quarter turn to go. Looking to the side back towards Korea while wanting to see clearly now. But not quite able.

One of the debilitating effects of jet lag comes in its tugging at your mind, saying, Hey, Dude! Something’s not right. Must be you. Let’s see what we can dig up from the well of sorrows. This way lies madness. No, I’m not ready for assisted living. That fall? A reminder to be mindful on the stairs. Stop it. I can handle my own affairs. Damn it.

Of course, the well of sorrows has/is a reservoir of issues, concerns, doubts, infringements on agency. And, they’re not all bogus. That’s the trick of course. Oh, well. I may not be ready for assisted living now, and I’m not, but could it be out there in my future? Sure. Made a note to contact Jewish Family Services and get an elderly housing specialist up here for a consult.

Made an appointment with my doc to continue work on my back issues. Probably a referral to an orthopedist and a physical therapist. Also going to check out simple yoga and get back to a workout routine that got me to 76 without these problems. Act now or forever hold your peas. Something like that. Another appointment for my glaucoma check. Will hit Derm when I go to the family practice clinic. Have to get stuff in before I leave for Israel. See. I’m handling things. He said still looking off toward Korea.