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  • “Pulvis et umbra sumus.”

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Samain Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Standard Time. My favorite. DST. Boo. Black Mountain, hidden again in the mist. Fog. Frosted Lodgepole Needles. Big Snow on the way. 10-12 inches. Ruth and Dazzle Jazz. Sunday night, I hope. Cell phones. The time before cell phones. Desktop. Laptop. Computers of all sorts. Batteries. EVs. Climate change. Sea level rise. Greenland and Antarctica. Israel. Gaza. Palestinians. Public opinion. Fingers and toes. Skin and nose. Heart and lungs. The Body. Amazing and wonderful. Kepler and Kate, my sweethearts.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rigel

    One brief shining: The Lodgepoles have a flocked look as I drink my coffee, write, look up and gaze out the window toward Black Mountain, that ten-thousand footer obscured not so far away but invisible as the dew point matches the temperatures here on Shadow Mountain.

     

    We are but dust and shadow. “Pulvis et umbra sumus.” The Latin poet, Horace. Quoted in a poem sent out by buddy Tom Crane this morning. Brought to mind for me the Plaza del Toros in Mexico City where they sell tickets by sombra e sol. Shade or sun. I bought sombra. Worth it as the afternoon wore on and the dead bulls left the ring for donation to orphanages around the city.

    Spent some time a couple of weeks ago researching the ontological nature of shadows. Surprised that the consensus seemed to be that shadows have no ontological nature since they cannot interact with the world. So why then did I buy a ticket for sombra and not sol? Because sombra would be cooler! To me: Q.E.D.

     

    Here’s a sensation I forget each year only to have it delight me with its return. That feeling of expectation as the weather changes and big Snow is in the forecast. What will it be like, this Snow? How will it change the landscape? Of my yard? Of Shadow Mountain? of Black Mountain? How cold will it get? I can feel the Fire in my fireplace already. Perhaps some hot cocoa in my hand. Reading a book in one of my three favorite chairs. I suppose this is hygge, or the anticipation of hygge.

    What is hygge? Here’s an explanation:

    “Hygge is about cosiness and surrounding yourself with the things that make life good, like friendship, laughter and security, as well as more concrete things like warmth, light, seasonal food and drink.” scandinaviastandard

    How very Jewish of those Scandinavians. Joy as a religious obligation. Hygge as a facet of shabbat. Ah. The Snow has begun to fall. Crank up the hygge dial here on Shadow Mountain. My workout, then a fire and a book and a snack.

     

    Meanwhile the world flies Palestinians flags and students wear green bandanas in fealty to their notion of Hamas as a liberation front. While here at Shadow Mountain Home we fly the Stars and Strips and the blue and white flag of Israel. Which does NOT mean I do not care about Palestinian civilians. I do. The rules of war, remember? Proportionate response. Protect civilians. No justification with the why of war can erase these obligations.

     

     

     


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  • I see you’re slipping into melancholy

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Samain Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Alan. Joan. Israel. Hamas. The Palestinians. Iran. Saudi Arabia. Mark in Hafir. Mary in K.L. My son and Seoah in Songtan. Diane in San Francisco. Cold morning. Good sleeping. Mary and p.t. Mussar. An off day emotionally. Kep, my sweet boy. Kate, always Kate. Lauren and Kat, adult Bat Mitzvahs next Thursday. Shadow Mountain Home. Herme. October melancholy. Forgot. Darkness. Snow on its way.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Feeling down

    One brief shining: John Destian my long time Jungian analyst gave me a task for Kate; she was to say when she noticed it, “I can see you slipping into melancholy.”; and, so she did for years keeping me aware when my self-awareness faltered, dead now I’ve lost her physical voice but I heard her voice today when I realized it was October the month my mother died.

     

    The gentle sadness of turning leaves, cold rains. Combined with Mom’s sudden death in October of 1964. Still often trigger for me-59 years later-an inner sadness, a melancholy often felt first by Kate, not me. Yesterday. You seemed so far away. Yesterday. The two women I’ve loved most both dead now. Mom for 59 years, Kate for two and a half. Hard sometimes to be without that special form of support, of caring, of seeing me for who I am whole. And yesterday was such a time. I see that now.

    A tricky bit. Saying yes to the melancholy while not feeding it, not letting it have all the oxygen in my inner world. Yesterday I danced around it, pushed it away. Denying. Kept coming. I felt inward, shut down, wanting to be away from people. Mussar couldn’t end fast enough. My p.t. session went so long. Felt relieved when I got in Ruby and headed home.

    This morning I can see yesterday more clearly. Hear Kate. Reminded too of joy as a spiritual obligation in Judaism. Asceticism is not a virtue in Judaism. Jews celebrate the body and its pleasures; its enjoyment. Enjoy. Bring joy into the body. What can I do today that will bring me joy? Yes. This does not fight or deny my melancholy. It recognizes that the melancholy is not all I can feel. I can also eat with friends, laugh, donate money to a good cause, enjoy a good book. No shame in melancholy or joy.

    Perhaps, too, the unfamiliar experience of being targeted by simplistic analyses, of being on the railed against side of progressive arguments, of being a Jew when anti-semitism has gained strength among people with whom I share political values. New turf for me.

     

    It’s a foggy morning here on Shadow Mountain, Black Mountain hidden in the mist. Waiting on Alan to message me about breakfast. I have a few errands. Get a printed copy of the mailing label for the Starlink cable I didn’t need. Get that package to FedEx. Visit Evergreen Market. Do some work in the kitchen. Maybe in the living room, too.

     

     


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  • Not happening has become something that happened

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Samain Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Darkness. Quiet. Rain. Snow coming. Cool nights. Rich Levine. Ron. Alan. Joan. Tom and Diane. Israel. Gaza. Palestinians. Settlers. War. Peace. Turkey. Erdogan. Anti-semitism. Pro-Palestinians. I’m pro-Palestinian, but anti-Hamas. Political failure has drastic consequences. Netanyahu. Israel’s protest movement. Aid to Gaza. Feeling the walls of world opinion closing in. An olive tray. Biet She’an. The Decapolis. Dinner tonight of those of us who didn’t go to Israel. An oddly bonding experience.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Internet

    One brief shining: That glass tray with curved dividers will have olives in it tonight at Mark Lehrner’s place: kalamata, castelvetrano, nicoise, olives stuffed with garlic, olives stuffed with blue cheese and represents my passing on making Middle Eastern food, yet also wanting to contribute to this consolation prize dinner where my fellow non-travelers will share research we have done on sites of interest in Israel.

     

    Here’s how it goes for me. 19 days after Hamas viciously murdered women, men, and the elderly, children, beheading babies. I would have left for Jerusalem today. Would have had 5 days to roam around this ancient city, holy to so many. Eating Israeli breakfasts, crashing when I got tired. Learning from the wonderful museums and the living history of the Arab quarter, the souk, the old city, the Western Wall. Al Aqsa. By talking to folks of diverse backgrounds and points of view. Then on Samain, the Celtic New Year, I would have spoken with three Reconstructionist rabbi’s, had my penis pricked for one drop of blood, gotten naked and immersed in a mikveh, and spent the rest of the tour in my first days as a converted Jew. No. Not gonna happen.

    Insignificant in the larger picture? Of course. Very significant among my fellow travelers and especially so for Veronica and me who planned to become Jews in Jerusalem. Hard to find the right words, but I feel like something important, something life altering has happened. Because all these things did not happen though I had intended them to. Paradox.

    My conversion will always be the one that didn’t happen in Jerusalem. Because the whole world of Judaism got sucked into this desperate and ill-understood conflict. Again. Still. And I got sucked into it, too. Willingly. That was the point after all, to say yes, these are my people. I cast my lot with them for now and always.

    The not happening has become something that happened. That changed me by immersing me not in the mikveh but in a dark and troubled sea. Which perhaps because of my nature has only made me feel more certain of my choice, more bonded to CBE and worldwide Jewry. These, my people, are in trouble. This is when we stand up and declare who we are.

    I am a Jew. Not ritually, not yet, but I am already a Jew. One caught in the vice of ancient blood feuds and unable to see a clear path out of them. Yet I see this clearly: we will figure the way out together.


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  • Love mercy, do justice and walk humbly

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Samain Moon

    Monday gratefuls: My son and his 42nd birthday. What a delight he was, is. A golfer, a scholar, a warrior,  a husband, a canine companion, a kind and honest man. Korea. Israel. Hamas. Palestinians. Gaza. West Bank. Hezbollah. Iran. Carrier strike groups. The rules of war. Love mercy, do justice, walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8. Gabe. And the donkey he met. Jen and Barb. Ruth. A family. Shadow Mountain fireplace. Shadow Mountain beneath me. The blue Sky above me. Lodgepoles and Aspens beside me.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son’s new left-handed putter

    One brief shining: Gabe came back from his walk, I met a donkey, oh, yes and here’s a picture he showed me his phone in the now familiar gesture of one sharing records of their life and there was his hand on a donkey’s long nose, brown and white, eyes looking happy to be greeted by my grandson, a lover of all animals. Except mice. Because they squeak.

     

    I want to say clearly. Hamas-no! Murder and hostage taking of civilians-no! Israel defending itself-yes! America helping Israel-yes. Israel killing Palestinians not part of Hamas-no! Israel eliminating Hamas-yes! While always watching out and caring for Palestinian civilians.

    If Hezbollah and/or Iran come into the war-no! Then America helping Israel-yes! World War III-no! Second coming-no! Armageddon-no!

     

    When I wrote the word Armageddon just now, the Rapture Index popped into my head. Think the nuclear clock of the Union of Concerned Scientists only run by a strange and lonely guy from the Pentecostal Church down the street. The rapture index today is 185. On the handy scale of the website-which goes from 100 and below for slow prophetic activity to 160 and above, Hang onto your seat belts!-you can see our friends in the woo-woo wing of Christianity are getting excited.

    Checked the nuclear clock, too. Set in January of 2023 at 90 seconds to midnight (nuclear apocalypse) it references the Ukraine war as the most troubling matter then. Now two U.S. carrier strike groups: The Ford and the Eisenhower have positioned themselves in the Middle East near Iran and Israel while the war in Ukraine continues. I’d push the hands of that clock forward, wouldn’t you?

    Since the secular and the nutty eschatologists line up, it might be time to reconsider that bomb shelter. Or, heading over to Survivalistboards.com.

    A troubled world with weapons too powerful for humans to have. God help us all.

     

    All of this seems so remote from my spot here on Shadow Mountain. Down the hill stuff, not issues for us who live with the Bears and the Elk and the Mountain Lions. Sadly it is not so. My contribution these days perhaps lies in these words I spit out every morning. Helping myself understand what I understand, what I can understand and what I can’t. Hopefully leading at least a handful of others to try to understand what they understand. Then choose what actions seem available and important to them.

     

     

     


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  • Others

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Samain Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Lutheran Spine Center. Mary. Melody. Tara. RSV vaccine. Safeway. Israel. BA cancellation. Keshet. Conversion. Mikveh. Embracing the darkness as we move toward the Winter Solstice. Samain. The fallow time. Business mornings. Tuesdays. P.T. exercises. Workouts. Keeping up with it. My novels. The new one aborning. Kep, my sweet boy. Kate, always Kate. Seven Stones. Gabe. Ruth. Friendsgiving. Thanksgiving. Relationships. Family. My boy, Seoah, Murdoch. Friends. Deciding what comes next.

    Sparks  of Joy and Awe: Joann

    One brief shining: Once again confirming my medications, giving my date of birth, looking at my oxygenation, my blood pressure all fine as I prepare to meet yet another doctor, this time Melody, a p.a. physiatrist, who has me bend side to side and forward, who takes both of my legs and twists them this way and that, any pain, stops and says you have every reason to be hopeful as she left the room when we were done.

     

    Yes, my Korea experience still has me on the road for visits to physical therapy and then Lutheran Spine Center yesterday. Melody confirmed my conjecture that my recent neglect of resistance work probably led to my flare. Why did I do that? Not depressed. My best guess is. Got tired of it. Self care takes time. The older I get the more time it takes. Wanted to save a little time by not doing the resistance. Bad choice. Melody also made me feel good because she expressed surprise that I’d held off this back trouble for so long. Definitely your working out. And, she said, if you keep up your exercises you have every reason…

    I know these things to be true. I know. But. There’s a certain weariness that comes with repeating the same things over and over. Get on the treadmill. Do the squats. The chest presses. The lawnmowers. The dips. The bicep curls and the shoulder presses. The skullcrushers. Those core exercises. Now adding in physical therapy exercises for my back specifically. Guess I need an attitude adjustment. Working out keeps me able to do the things I want to do. Like travel. Go see friends and family. Take care of myself while living alone. Pretty important stuff.

    New attitude. Take the time. It’s worth it.

    Similar note. Got my RSV vaccine yesterday at Safeway. Still seems weird to me to go the grocery store for anything medical. Yet there you are. Some kerfuffle with my birthdate and my medicare card made me wait longer. Then a quick jab, a bandaid, thank you. Noticed while I was there that Safeway has renamed their aisles using local street names: Barkley Road and Shadow Mountain Drive, for instance.

     

    At breakfast with Tara yesterday I had an aha. At this point in my life relationships are what matter. Not even writing that new novel or finishing Jennie’s Dead. Not even traveling unless it includes building or deepening relationships. Hmm. That one may not be right. I still like to travel alone. Not even striking another blow for justice. I spend more time now having breakfast and lunch with friends, seeing Gabe and Ruth, my son and Seoah, than I do on anything other than taking care of myself. And it never gets old or repetitious. No, I’m not converting to extroversion. I still don’t like crowds or parties or too many people around. But one on one or with two or three others? Yes. That’s where the juice is in my life now.

     

     


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  • Conversion on again

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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  • Mountain Life

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     

     


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  • Seven Stones

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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  • The Abyss Stares Back

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.


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  • Cancel Culture

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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