Category Archives: Travel

Aging, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Great Wheel, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Park County, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Travel

Introducing Herme

May 19, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Burning Bear Creek. Park County #60. A clean Kep. Geneva Creek. The hike. Good exercise. Outside. In the Mountains. The scent of Lodgepole Pines. Sweet. The sound of Snow Melt throwing itself down Geneva Creek. The Marmoset. The Raccoon. Those molting young Mule Deer Does near the Lariat Lodge. Hamish. Working on Alfieri and Eddie in View from the Bridge. 9:30 to bed. Up at 7:10. Shift already happening.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marmosets and Raccoons

Tarot: #8, The Stag

“The Stag is a metaphorical image for the treasure of knowledge in the universe, where the energy of creativity awakens every human soul.” tarotx.net

Kep emerged from Award Winning Pet Grooming shiny and sweet smelling. Grinning. He jumped up on me. Thanks for not forgetting me, Dad! He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met. The longtime owner there. He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met, too, but my experience is limited to Kep, Murdoch, and for a moment, Kya.

Living in the Mountains continues today. Exercise at Maxwell Creek. I’ll see what it’s like at 9 am or so. Probably nobody. Which is what I want. Gonna start checking for lonely trails somewhere nearby. Even when working out I’m an introvert. A big reason I have my own home gym.

Shedding, like an Akita blowing his coat, my old Self. Letting him go, rushing toward the River feeding the Collective Unconscious. He’ll always be there if I need him. He served me well over the last seven years, but it’s time to let the fourth phase me, the post-Kate me have his day.

He’s a dig-in to this world deeper guy. A Living in the Mountains guy. Really see this wonder in which I live. He’s a Traveling Alone with a Crowd guy. Herme is his name.

Instead of looking to go far he’s looking to go in and down, as has been my journey since I left the church over thirty years ago. Slipped away some in the Colorado years. Renewing that journey while rethinking transcendence. I get the need to move beyond ego, but I’m not sure transcendence is the right metaphor. Rolling this around right now.

Rather than looking to go far Herme wants to investigate the close-by, the near. In his heart. In his inner world. In the Mountains near his home. In Evergreen and CBE. In family and friends. On Shadow Mountain. In his sumi-e brush.

Herme wants to move on the Elder’s path. Finding his power. Communicating his truth gathered. No longer pounding the world with his fist. No longer seeking distant lands unless inhabited by family. Not seeking success in anything. Living in the World as he lives in the Mountains as his World.

Herme appreciates the lessons of suffering. But no longer wants to live with them as a primary identity. Cancer will be what cancer is with the treatments available. Jon and the kids will resolve their issues from the divorce or not; Herme will remain in their lives. Kate will be of blessed memory.

Farewell old man. You served me well, but it’s time for a new phase.

Aging, Art and Culture, Astrology, Cinema and Television, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Humanities, Latin, Letters, Literature, Music, Myth and Story, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Translating Metamorphoses, Travel, Writing

Oh, the Wonders We’ll See

May 17, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Deb. Robbie. Tal. Gretchen. Alan. Terrence. Jill. Nights. Lunar red. The full red Moon. Cloudy skies. Skipping Sefer Yetzirah. Learning things in astrology. Not enough. Reading plays. Loving it. Art is not only sculpture, prints, paintings, metal work. Literature. Theater. Music. Oh. Remembering.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Alfieri and Felix

Tarot: #8, The Stag

“The Stag shows our connection to the universe and…organic life on this planet. The hatchet is a symbolic image of the human will to alter the environment. In order for the environment to change more positively, we need not only more effective actions but also (to accept) our responsibility to nature. On the shield, the picture of a great Oak tree reminds us that we must preserve and protect natural resources.” tarotx.net

Wow. Up at 9:22 am this morning. To bed at 10:30 pm. Acting class and pre-bed routine. Woke up and felt great. I went, huh? No time to write Ancientrails before Astrology class. No time to exercise so I skipped Sefer Yetzirah. Skipping class. For me? Hardly ever. I loved doing it this time.

Had brunch, then exercised. Felt and feel great. Pay attention to accidents. Like the fall, yes, but in this case a late night, late morning. Well. I could do this, I guess. Just because for the last 30 years I’ve gone to bed early and gotten up early does that mean I still have to? No. It doesn’t

If my acting lessons take me anywhere, which I’m not expecting, but if they do, rehearsal? At night. Performances? At night. Services at CBE? At night. It would open up a different lifestyle for me.

On that note. I got stuck. My Minneapolis Institute of Arts experience led me to a Johnny-one note approach to the arts. Painted. Sculpted. Printed. Sewn. Splattered. Photographed. Videoed. Yes. If I couldn’t regularly see high quality art of this kind, well…

Then my buddy Alan suggested I take an acting class. Sure. Why not? At the very least a reminder of a different art form. One I’d engaged in the long ago far away. Whoa. Heart work. Body work. Get the mind out of the way work. Reread some contemporary work like The Odd Couple, View From the Bridge, next American Buffalo. Act scenes from them. Develop the Self in a new way.

I mean. Like the proverbial 2×4. Oh. Yeah. And music, too. Gotta get somebody, maybe Alan, to help get my audio world turned on here on Shadow Mountain. Will begin again to read classical literature. Metamorphosis first, I imagine.

As Ode said, routines. The only difference betweeen a rut and a grave are the dimensions. Yeah.

So I may become a later to bed, later to rise guy. For art’s sake.

Here’s a realization I had today. When I take something from Taoism, I take it as a Taoist.When I take something from Christianity, I take it as a Christian. When I take something from Judaism, I take it as a Jew.When I take something from Islam, I take it as a Muslim. When I take something from Hinduism, I take it as a Hindu.

Furthermore. When I take something from Japanese culture, I take it as a Japanese. From Colombia as a Colombian. From the Celts as a Celt.

Syncretism and appropriation are dirty words in most intellectual circles. I’m not trying to create a new, smashed together religion, nor am I lifting ideas from their living culture to reorient in mine.

Nope. When I say I’m a follower of Shiva, which I am, I mean I’m aware of and beholden to the cosmic dance of creation and destruction and Shiva is its name. When I say ichi-go ich-e is important for me, I’m saying this moment, this one while I’m typing on the keyboard, throwing these ideas out into the cyberether, will never happen again. And, is precious for that reason. When I say I follow the Great Wheel, I’m an ancient Celtic thinker noticing the stars and the changing of the seasons, tying them together in a long, yet repeating spiral.

I don’t pick and choose. Nope to that either. Some ideas and concepts that come to me as I read, listen, see change my way. When they change my way, they become part of me, part of my ancientrail.

Neither striving for nor hoping for a neat package tied up with a bow. Nicely systematized. Not important to me. Insights into life and how to live it? Very important to me.

Aging, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Humanities, Literature, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Travel

A Change in the Mind

May 10, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Dead Mouse. Felix in the Odd Couple. A lawyer in View From the Bridge. Dinner at Robbie’s early. Back much better. Melancholy. Back. The Sun. My Rocky patch of Mother Earth. Kate fertilized Iris pushing up into the Light. Kep. A real sweetheart. Happy to see me last night when I came home from acting class.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A script

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

” Healthy activity and independence adorn your path. Boldness, pride, and love for the land lead you… Let the Horse take you away.

Mentally, you may suddenly find yourself overwhelmed for no specific reason. You can try to control each issue at a time. You are going through a mental change when this happens. Remember that you change for the better.” tarot.com

Suddenly overwhelmed. As the Knight of Stones says. A response to exhaustion from Saturday, then last night. An hour late getting to bed because of acting class. Still a bit achy from the fall. Body not quite right. Exercised hard yesterday as well.

Melancholy. Things bite that wouldn’t have a week ago. Shorter fuse. Not my favorite state of being, but one that recognizes a truth. I’m going through a change, maybe the one I’ve been seeking, that new life I’ve perseverated about.

Lots of clues. The Inner Work of Aging reading. This reply from my oncologists about my future.* That fall. The house nearing completion, Vince on tap for some more work inside and out. The acting class. Wondering if I’d be able to learn lines. My waning interest in kabbalah and astrology. Reluctance about travel.

Mortality behind me. Mortality ahead of me.

Got cast as Felix in the Odd Couple for a scene with Alan. And as a lawyer in a scene from Arthur Miller’s A View From the Bridge. This is scene study, the purpose of the class. It helps us develop an approach, a process for taking on a role. It was fun, but when I had to improv the Odd Couple scene, I felt out to sea. Like my memory had deserted me. Not true, yet it added a layer to the melancholy coming on the night air.

After the class I stepped off a high curb, unlit, stumbled, hit a sewer cover, and tripped. Righted myself. With a quick FUCK! Another vulnerability message. Pay more attention at night, Charlie.

An inner journey underway, headed to the shadow side on Shadow Mountain.

*You have had a great response to Orgovyx/Erleada combo thus far and could continue this way for years to come. Individual response varies incredulously. Regardless, there are a multitude of additional modalities beyond this to treat you. I believe you could live 10+ years but in what state of health is hard for me to say because I am also not as privy to the rest of your medical history as your primary care.” Kristie

“I agree with Kristie. You are responding quite well and we still have plenty of ammunition unused for the future if needed. And we continue to make great progress with time. So for now you are good. What happens years from now we don’t know…so it is possible this does effect your longevity, but I am not willing to say that for sure at this time.” Dr. Eigner

Colorado, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel

How do I feel?

May 8, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Kya. Diaphanous gowns. Road trips. Aging. Rachelle. Mennonites. High Plains. Snow covered Mountains. Timidity. I’m in no rush; I have plenty of time. Travel. The Rockies. Their vastness. Mr. Burro Cafe. Hwy. 285, the road to Taos and Santa Fe. Taking no for an answer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rachelle

Tarot: Nine of Stones, Tradition

Oh, the learning I had. Followed Ode’s blue SUV south on Hwy 285, stopping before Del Norte at Cty. road D. A right turn to littlebear Akitas. 3 hours plus from Conifer. Another hour or so and I’d I’ve been in Taos. This trip was for Kep though. Finding him a girlfriend, a companion. Kya.

Found myself along the way. I’m in no rush; I’ve got plenty of time. Usually when some driver rushed past me even though I was at the speed limit or 5 mph over. It hit me. That’s true. I’m in no rush. I do have plenty of time. I spent most of my adult life being in a rush. Hurrying. Making sure I was on time or early. No more.

The end is out there, sure. Even so. If it’s tomorrow, I still have plenty of time and am in no rush. In this moment I can find all the life I need. This ichi-go ichi-e moment. Not only is it unrepeatable and unique, it is eternity. And, since I’m experiencing it I’m in no rush and have plenty of time.

A profound learning for me.

Taking no for an answer. Rachelle is a 35 year old Mennonite woman, as strong and resolute as the High Plains on which she lives. Kya, the 9 year old Akita female she thought might be a good fit with Kepler was as sweet as she described. A real keeper. Except for Kepler.

Rachelle got her first Akita when she was 18 and has been raising them for 17 years. She knows the breed. I’ve had one Akita. Her judgment is better than mine. We spent an hour or so trying to get them to interact. Kep expressed interest. Kya kept wandering away, not to be bothered.

A few times Kep growled at her. She ignored it. According to Rachelle, Akita females are dominant. If she had rolled Kep over and he accepted it, we could have a different ending. But she didn’t. And he was ornery.

“Fear is the hardest to work with. An over confident dog, yes, a sensitive one like Kepler. Very hard.” In the end we both decided it was too risky. I did not want a Kepler-Murdoch moment on the way home. While I was driving.

After meeting Rachelle, I had an insight into why evangelicals look so hard for biblical warrant for wives submitting to husbands. Rachelle and her sisters are like Akitas.

No, I told Rachelle, is as important and significant an answer as yes. Realized I’ve learned that. Felt good. Not jamming experience into the shape you prefer. Seeing what you see. Acting on that.

The road trip. Hwy. 285 is a magical mystery tour. Leaving Conifer on it for points south with names like Fairplay, Saguache, Buena Vista, Del Norte, Taos, Santa Fe takes you first through the Platte River Valley, then up the 11,000 foot Kenosha Pass. While descending from that height, the High Plains of South Park spread out for miles ahead of you protected by ranges of Snow topped Mountains. South Park is at 9,000 feet or more.

Breckenridge lies about 20 miles north of Fairplay over Hoosier Pass. Leadville, a storied mining town is a little further north from Buena Vista where 285 turns due south toward New Mexico. Until Buena Vista 285 parallels I-70.

At Buena Vista the Collegiate Range towers in the near west. Part of the Sawatch Range the Collegiates are some of the highest Mountains in the Rockies. Mt. Harvard, at 14,427 feet is the tallest. Mt. Princeton. Mt. Yale. Mt. Oxford. Mt. Columbia. Grand and massive. Still with Snow.

From there 285 turns south and the Mountain Ranges are in the east and west. Tried to feel the spirits of the place. The strong Yang of the Mountains overlooks the strong Yin of Valleys and Plains. Snow and Ice transform the Yang of the Mountains into the Yin of Soil and Streams and Rivers. They look separate, but the Plains and the Mountains are a whole. Transforming one into the other. Protecting. Nourishing.

The Plains on which 285 runs toward Del Norte where Rachelle lives is still at 8,000 feet. Windy. Wind swept. Trees with bows and branches shaped as by a topiarists hand.

Practicing my acting class warmup on this portion of the drive I said: How do I feel? Awed. How do I feel? Achy and tired. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Blessed. How do I feel? Loved. How do I feel? Excited. How do I feel? Glad to be on the road.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, Travel

What makes you happy?

May 7, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Coyote HVAC. Back muscles healing. One dead Mouse. A full week’s exercise. Sano. Kep, a healthy doggy at 12. Kya. Hope she and Kep get along. Kate’s yahrzeit during the service at CBE. Jon, Ruth, Gabe. A lovely evening, an outdoor service. Kristie. Kristen. Road trip today. Mini-splits minimal maintenance. A to do list for Vince.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep

Tarot: Ten of Vessels. Happiness.

Jon, Ruth, and Gabe drove up to CBE for the Friday evening service. And were early! First time I remember that happening. Kate’s yahrzeit came up during the service because of the Jewish leap year which moved Nissan 30 to May 1st on the Gregorian calendar. When kaddish, the mourner’s prayer is read those in active mourning or honoring a yahrzeit stand while the congregation says the prayer.

Afterward Rabbi Jamie asked us if we wanted to say anything about Kate. Jon said he felt her with us. Ruth was crying. I said, Yes, I do. But wait. I gathered myself for a minute. Kate was 30 when she converted, had no opportunity to live a Jewish life until we moved to Colorado and found Beth Evergreen. She loved this place. Not sure all of it was intelligible. A powerful moment for the four of us.

We went to Sushi Win, ordered take out. They’re not open for dining yet. Jon and Ruth waited for the order. Gabe and I went back to Shadow Mountain. I said seeing dogs with their heads out the window of a car made me happy. Toddlers, too.

What makes you happy, Gabe? Lots of things. Give me two. You. You make me happy, Grandpop. Family. Family makes me happy.

We ate in the common room. The new chandelier finally hung and centered with bulbs. Herme on. The couch and chairs arranged. Gabe went upstairs to work on a puzzle. Ruth flung herself on the couch. Jon and I stayed at the table talking.

He’s a happier guy now that he sees an end to teaching. I hope it works out for him because he’s a different person with that hope on the horizon.

Ruth’s big news? Prom. Today. She’s anxious. Doesn’t want to stab Cord when she pins on his boutonniere. Unsaid. How will I look? Will I have fun? Will Cord think I’m beautiful? What about drugs and sex? Exciting. Fun. Dangerous. Thrilling. Prom!

Reading The Inner Work of Aging: From Role to Soul by Connie Zweig. I like it. It’s focus is something I’ve mentioned here before. We lack a road map for the extended time after work that modern medicine and health practices have given us. Who are we without work? Without a role? Connie is a shadow-work specialist so she naturally goes there, but there’s much more to the book. Not far in it.

Tarot question I asked today: How will it go with Kya? I like the happiness card. I hope Kep finds Kya a happy match. Whether or not he does, I will be happy. Road trip. Trying to find Kep a companion. A first attempt. So, yes. Happiness for this day. And many others, too.

Coronavirus, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Shadow Mountain, Travel, Weather +Climate

Cold leaving. Slowly. My thoughts on teen mental illness

April 25, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

Monday gratefuls: Snow. Three inches or so. Cooler after heat. Cold on the wane. Stuffy still. A do nothing Sunday. Talk with the Ancient Bros about sex. Nap. Watch TV. Eat See’s candy. Shadow Mountain cold cure. Love the Snow’s fire suppression. I also liked the heat last week. Not the 75 down the hill, but the mid to high 60’s up here. Acting class starting next week. Evergreen Players. Barry on HBO.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Recovering from a cold

From the new dining room, The Sewing Room. Today

Oh. I’ve become so cautious. Covid. Suppressed immune system. Introversion. Downright timid. Not in love with this side of myself right now. I think. Travel! Then, I think t.r.a.v.e.l. with a pause and a wonder at each period. Money. Time away from my own bed. Meds. Kep with somebody else. What if I get sick? Oh. I don’t like this.

Might be feeling it more while still in the grips of this damned cold. Not back yet. A longer recovery period than I recall. Certainly longer than I want.

It’s been so long since I’ve been sick. I remember the last time. February 2019. Here’s my summary of it from back then: “…had an influenza strength virus for ten days, then I really got sick.” This cold. Mild. That one. Whatever it was. I got down 138 pounds. Kate was in the hospital part of the time. A miserable, miserable month. Immune system, even if not being all it can be, still has oomph.

Loved seeing Ode’s bright blue SUV heading off toward Santa Fe on 285. I could feel his excitement at being on the road again. My friend. Stirred those same yearnings for me. Right now. Not sure I want to go out to lunch with Luke today.

A rebound, yes? There’s a rebound after recovering from a cold if I recall? Hope so. I could use a rebound.

Aside from illness and timidity. Snow. Rat Zappers arrived. Haven’t assembled them yet. They had that odd phrase on their boxes: humanely kill. That’s an oxymoron, right? Sure, it means without cruelty. That’s good. No vice grips on the testicles. Or gouged out eyes. However. Still dead.

Gonna use them. That part about stripped electrical wiring. Diane’s a sensible woman. Besides burning down my house could burn down the neighborhood. The town. So there’s that. Seoah and Diane were shoulder-to-shoulder on the mice.

Been reading about the epidemic of teenage mental illness. There’s an NYT series. Here’s a link to part of it. Have been reading it with interest. Ruth’s recent voluntary stint in the psych hospital underlining it for me. Close to home.

Of course there are various causes proposed, but no one seems to know for sure. Social media. Less sleep. Less exercise. Less time with friends. The article features teens from Minnesota, one of whom did commit suicide.

I have a thought here. I haven’t checked it out with Ruth, but I intend to.

We had a birthday party for Gabe last Thursday. He got presents. We sang him a silly Happy Birthday. He was happy. We had a birthday party for Ruth three weeks ago. She and Cord were a teenage couple. Learning the ropes of boygirl land. It was a sweet evening, we all had a good time.

This all seems normal. But these kids are not hitting their teen years in normal time. Covid might be the least abnormal part of it. It disrupted their schooling, keeping them at home and on screen for months at a time. It interfered with their social life. A lot. And don’t forget they waited longer than anyone for the vaccinations. This would raise, as Kate might say, their anxiety titer. Quite a bit. So it might be the least of the abnormalities, but it’s far from trivial.

Trump and the rise of populist politics around the world creates a serious frisson for teens entering the years of identity formation, sexual exploration. Especially with gender fluidity yet another turn of the screw during an already perplexing time. Might the far right win more elections and trample all over teens? It’s happening already. Don’t say gay. Many legislatures passing anti-trans legislation.

School shootings. School shooting drills. Everywhere, not just Colorado. Gun violence common. Even at malls where teens used to congregate. How would you like to have to go to a place every day where you fear being shot?

Looming over all these though is the Big One. Climate change. For those of us in our seventies climate change will not push the needle over into the red zone. Yes. The Miami condos. Yes, more wildfires. Highest temps. Day and night. The beginning of climate refugees. We’ll not live to see the red zone.

But these teenagers will. Think they don’t know that? Think they don’t know that all the time we’re giving the usual counsel about college, and majors, and careers, and driving, and dating? We’re giving them the counsel of our past. Which will not be their future. They’re going to live into a world of difference, unpleasant difference. Not all the unpleasantness identified either.

I remember R.D. Laing who said adjusting to an insane world is the true insanity. I hope their dis-ease says they are not ready to go down without a fight.

Aging, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories, Minnesota, Shadow Mountain, Travel

75

February 20, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Kep. BJ and the basket of fruit. The J.O.E. family gathering: Johnson. Olson. Ellis. Sara and Annie. Jerry. Schecky. Turning 75. Rigel. Now appearing in Kate’s personal heaven. Prostate Cancer. Erleada, currently kicking my butt with fatigue, low stamina, and maybe increased high blood pressure. Orgovyx. Kristie. Tom. The draft horse. (He’ll know what this means.) Roxann. Her struggles. Mornings.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Therapy

50th High School Reunion, Alexandria, Ind. 64

Haven’t written about turning 75. Too caught up in the doggie drama of Rigel’s death. Still sad. Like Kate’s death though Rigel’s had been coming for months, maybe a year plus. She pushed past the endocarditis but it could well have ended her. Also like Kate I’m sad she’s gone, but relieved she can run free, all legs working, appetite restored. No angels are ever destroyed. They just change location.

Last Thursday evokes what it means to turn 75. Fellow ancient wayfarer Tom Crane was here, helping me ease past the shock of Rigel’s death. Marilyn Saltzman and Irv had called the day before.

Tom and I had breakfast at Aspen Perks. Talked about life, our 35 year plus relationship. We’re brothers. Yes. Now and forever. 75 would be barren without him, without those other ancient brothers I see every Sunday. Without the other Woolly Mammoths.

In my therapy session David Sanders identified three issues he heard from our initial session: emptiness, potential future relationships, and creative work. The emptiness is there and will remain for some time. It doesn’t scare me or feel abnormal. I’m not ready for a new relationship, may never be, but certainly not now. That put us at door number 3.

David asked me to send him a copy of a novel I’d written. I sent him the first 50 pages of Superior Wolf. He sent me some interesting work sheets to fill out. I’ve done that. We’ll talk next Thursday. With the simple act of sending him that material, the stuff I’d sent out to agents, I felt ready to get writing again. Very soon. Maybe this week.

Also, had some ideas about emptiness and the Tao. In Taoism emptiness is what makes certain things useful. The void in a cup. The space of a door or window. The interior of a car. The room inside four walls in a house. The inside of a refrigerator, dish-washer, cabinet. Made me wonder if grief is an emptiness that lets us see through it to a new life.

2016, second from right, back row. Stillwater, Minnesota

In a class with Rabbi Jamie a while back (well before Kate’s death) I wrote a poem that had this line: Death’s door opens both ways. Perhaps grief is that door. Perhaps that emptiness is the vessel into which we pour all the ingredients necessary for a new life to emerge.

Therapy over, I waited for an hour and headed over to Evergreen to meet my new doc, Kristine Gonzalez. As I said in an earlier post, what a delight she is. As David took my now 75 year old psyche under his care, she listened to me about prostate cancer, post-polio syndrome, high blood pressure, radiation induced proctitis, peripheral artery plaque. And said, “Just live until 90. I don’t see anything in your way.”

At On the Move Fitness an hour after this Deb got that body back up out of the chair and onto the tread mill and the mat. Put weights in my hands. Had me huffing and puffing.

That’s all a window into my status as a 75 year old man, walking his ancientrail.

Jefferson County, Judaism, Mountains, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Travel

A Question

January 13, 2022 Charles Leave a comment

Yule and the New Year Moon

I’ve walked this board walk many times. Pukaskwa National Park, Ontario

Thursday gratefuls: MVP. Responsibility. Incognito. Neuroscience. Free will. Blue urban, red exurban. The changing politics of the U.S.A. Shakespeare. A man for all ages. Stratford, Ontario. Ellis family trips there. Ipperswich Provincial Park. Pukaskwa National Park. Staunton State Park. Arapaho National Forest. Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The almost finished kitchen

Tarot: 1. Challenge. 2. How to Overcome. 3. Goal 1. Three of arrows, jealousy. 2. Two of vessels, attraction. 3. The World Tree, #21.

Do I need to continue to focus on home, family, friends (as part of healing and grieving), or do I need to push out toward the world? As I read this spread, it suggests my heart remains jealous of the old world I had with Kate. Gone, but not forgotten. Disappeared, but not without continuing significance. Perhaps a more accurate reading would be that I’ve not yet accepted its absolute physical absence and the emotional load that now past life continues to exact. It is the challenge I’m facing today.

How might I overcome this challenge? The heart’s blood dripping from the burning heart transforms into a passionate heart in the two of vessels. The suit of arrow’s elemental, Air, fans the Fire, burns out jealousy, and ignites an attraction between the stag/male energy and the female/mare energy. The result is an outpouring of emotion, an acceptance of the here and now, shown by the Water pouring into the vessels below. The airy abstraction of the intellect gives itself over to the Water course way.

When the alchemical marriage is complete, the elements of Air, Fire, and Water will combine, leaving only the Earth to complete the four building blocks of reality.

Earth comes into the spread through the twenty-first and last major arcana, The World Tree. It is the goal of my journey. You might say, oh, in that case the answer to the question is that you need to push out toward the world.

But. Maybe not. The World Tree certainly has the external world, all of it, subsumed under its imagery. Two other aspects of the image though suggest another possible meaning.

The labyrinth that serves as a walkway to the small door in the World Tree demands a solitary journey. Once to the door with the labyrinth behind me, I’ll choose to open the door. The door is the connection between the vast external universe and the also vast internal universe. The journey would continue in my inner world.

So I need to continue toward the alchemical marriage and even after the nuptials are over, my ancientrail to the outer world will appear as I retreat into and rely on my inner world.

What does this look like? Not sure. Finishing the remake of the kitchen, the living room, the ohana suite, and the loft. Continuing to work with my new schedule. Which I’m finding congenial right now. No after. Until or if there is one.

I feel relieved of the pressure to find a political action to take, or a religious obligation to embrace. I even feel relieved of the faint, but extant, desire for a relationship with a woman.

If you come to the Hermitage you’ll find me on the labyrinth or already gone behind the small door. Blessed be.

Cinema and Television, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories, Minnesota, Tarot, Travel

A busy day

December 7, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Colonoscopy prep. Jon last night. Cancer worries. Jon’s 53rd on Friday. At Gaetano’s. Ruth and Gabe putting their Hanukkah gift mugs in my cabinet. Our cabinet. Cabinets emptied. Whew. Bowe starts demo today. The new cabinets, the bottom ones needed for the quartzite fabricators are here. Bowe installs those on Thursday. The plan anyhow. Herme is home. Neon. Noble gases. Elements. Sulfur. Helium. Carbon. Uranium. Lead. Potassium.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Phase Four

Tarot: Six of Stones, wildwood

Dove off of always under construction Highway 70 at the Peoria exit. Then spent an interesting 15 minutes searching for Identgo, the TSA contractor for my TSA prechek appointment. 39th Street is a boundary line. On its south flank Aurora extends into its eastern suburbs. On its north it serves as an artery for capillary streets that end at the freeway’s fence. Concrete buildings with truck bays facing the street. A few RV’s parked in what look like permanent positions. Lots of extended chain link topped with razor wire. The faceless underbelly of small companies or the warehouses for big ones.

Identgo, also the site of Unicorn Drug testing, sat at the end of one of eight rows of sad, buff colored small offices. Christ-Ministry. Gospel Church. Mountain Stone. Identgo.

I had a thick sheaf of documents, divorce decree, marriage licenses, a birth certificate. They stayed in their envelope. This was a much more casual process than I had imagined. The gender fluid person who checked me had on outrageous boots. Made of brocade with thick laces and standing on 5 inch heels these were uncommon.

“Those are some boots” started a longer conversation. They showed me photos of other cool boots. A Canadian designer was their favorite. He also had high boots that looked like cows hooves. Dress shoes in yellow. Or, fading from yellow to purple.

They had been in Tokyo and NYC working for Identgo. In spite of the cheesiness of the office, the process itself was high-tech and quick. A handheld computer did most of the work. A blue screen for a photo, $85 and Bob’s your uncle.

Hopped onto 70 listening to a CPR program about Westside Story and why Puerto Ricans felt a remake was overdo. Short answer: Rita Moreno was the only PR in the first version though she did win an Oscar. Also, it reinforced Puerto Rican’s as an immigrant group somehow involved in teen delinquency. Might not have been so bad if it didn’t go on to become the best musical and fourth favorite movie of the Oscars.

Turned off I-25 near Bronco’s Stadium and into another, more upscale warren of businesses. Zuni Street. At 13th, near the brand new and strange Meow Wolf, I turned left into a newer, snazzier business mall. Morry’s Neon.

When I got there Tina, Glen, and one of the master benders were eating Mexican food off paper plates. Probably food truck fare. Glen took me back in the shop, plugged in the Hermit. I said. Wow. He smiled. Showed me how he would hang it. Clean it with a soft brush. The transformers good for about ten years. Other than that. No maintenance.

Tina took my money. Glen loaded Herme in the back of Ruby. Onto a moving blanket I had positioned there for that purpose. Back up the hill. And, none too soon.

Since Kate’s illness, the pandemic, and her death, I’ve not gone down the hill much. I find myself overstimulated in the city. Traffic. Exits. Navigating. Too many people. Lights. Police. Just. More. Than. I. Need. Strange for a guy who did nothing but urban work for over 25 years. But, true. Exurban, mountain me.

When I got back, the remainder of the cabinet cleanout. Though I had a huge stack of boxes in the living room on Saturday, I used all of them except one. I did the last few jars while I fed the dogs this morning. Lots of evidence of mice. Wish I could have a cat.

This whole process got hard. Oh, I remember Kate using this cherry pitter. Who owns a cherry pitter, anyhow? Her canning stuff, pressure cooker, water bath. Empty Ball jars. The mustard yellow fondue pot. A relic of the sixties. Her sixties.

There’s a dark beauty in grief. As it deepens feelings, it opens me to more feelings, to the wonder of our time together. Cooking. Harvesting honey. I came across a quart jar of Artemis Honey with the Ode made label still on the lid. Peaches. 2016. 2018. Western slope peaches. Canned right here. There was currant jelly, too. Ground cherry, wild grape. All by her hand. So much. Quilts. Mug rugs. Runners. What a life we had.

In an hour I’m leaving to take Jon to his colonoscopy. Sarah and BJ, two of Kate’s sisters, may have convinced him to let them help him sort out his house. That would be a big deal. He might get the stimulus to finish the kitchen, other rooms. That would be so good.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Memories, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Thanks

November 26, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Thanks giving. Kate. Who was always prepared. Ruth, who did not want to talk about Grandma. Then, did. Good stories, well told, bringing Grandma to Thanksgiving. The Ham. The Stuffing. The Pecan Pie and the Cranberry sauce, both made by Ruth. The Texas Toothpick Gabe got me served the ham. “It was the best present ever for you, Grandpop.”

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The kitchen remodel

Tarot: doing a spread later

It has come and gone. The first major holiday without my wife, without Grandma, without the oldest sister, without Kep and Rigel’s and Jon’s mom. These are holes in the fabric of our family, dug by Azrael. Left to be filled in as we knit together a new family, one without her physical presence.

Since I have long cooked the holiday meals and since Kate’s presence as an active participant in the holidays began to fade a couple of years ago, it was not as painful as it might have been for me. Ruth, less so. Jon, too. Gabe seems pretty level.

We spent time talking about Kate. Jon remembered when she brought the makings for pizza when he was in rehab. Ruth remembered Kate and her cooking. Gabe said he didn’t remember much. I told about the time in the Galliard Cut of the Panama Canal when a woman sitting with us pulled out wet wipes, just like Kate always did, and I gave in to her be prepared way. Then there was that time in Pizarro’s house (really) in Lima, Peru. She leaned her head on my shoulder. So much more.

On our honeymoon I got pneumonia and spent most of the time in Vienna recovering. Thanks to the antibiotics Kate had packed. Kate as the ninja weeder. Her name for her dogged attention to the plants out of place in our garden. A bandana around her forehead, a spading trowel in her hand. She gave so many things all she had. The ski bags she made for Jon. That dress she made from six-year old Ruth’s sketch. The shirts she made for me. Her medical practice. Her quilts. What a woman. So lucky I met her and got to love her. Be loved by her. May her journey be what it needs to be.

Slept in for an hour this morning. Cooking and cleaning up after a big meal. Whew. I find myself now able to do all that, not cringe. Just do it. What I’m not is a great host. Kate had that gene though neither of us enjoyed the role. Wonder if I could learn? Not sure. The introverted me finds shepherding an event and cooking/cleaning for same just too much. Not sure if I want to learn though it is an ancient and honored part of entertaining. Making folks feel welcome, seeding good conversations, maybe a game or two.

Whenever reading books about the Middle East, especially historical works, the rules of hospitality are so prominent. No matter who, even an enemy, deserved and received at least three days of food and shelter and freedom from attack. Don’t know whether that reflects actual practice, but they did lift hospitality to a prominent social norm, for sure.

Sunday night, the first night of Hanukkah, Jon and the kids return. I’m making brisket, traditional, and Jon has the making for latkes. We got a gift from Schecky and BJ, a box of lox (hah), latkes, apple sauce, sour cream, Hanukkah candles, and gelt. The presents from the sisters, the wrapped ones, are on the downstairs table. Not sure yet how we’ll handle the 8 days of present giving and candle lighting. We’ll decide on Sunday.

Another first without Kate.