Category Archives: Health

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Korea, Seed Keepers, Travel

Keep Them Close

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Shabbat gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Pad thai. Luke and Leo. Shadow. Opener of doors, gnawer of beds, furry alarm clock. Sciatica. Back pain. No country for old Presidents. Chewy. Natural Balance. Early morning Mountain chill. Shadow finding her voice. Ruth in her I love NYC t-shirt at my son and Seoah’s apartment. Zoom. This family, together, yet far, far apart. Gabe. Ukraine. Gaza. Israel. Russia. The Middle East. Asia.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Annie and Shadow playing.

Week Kavannah:  Zerizut. Enthusiasm. III for p.t., resistance

One brief shining: My usual rides gone to Puerto Rico, Las Vegas, going down the list of folks willing to drive me from Shadow Mountain to the heart of Denver while I’m loopy on Ativan so I can survive another MRI, this one of my hips; if I can’t find someone, it will have to wait and let the PET scan speak alone.

 

Here’s one of the barriers to medical care for me. From time to time I have to have a procedure that requires some sedation. Like Thursday’s MRI when I will be on Ativan for my claustrophobia. Rich is in Puerto Rico. Alan in Las Vegas. Making these appointments difficult to keep. Yes, I have more folks on my list and I’m asking them one by one, but if I can’t find anybody I’ll have to cancel. Do it another time. Not optimal for my visit with Dr. Buphati (medical oncologist) on June 2nd. Which I just noticed is before my PET scan. Oops. Gets complicated.

It would be nice to have a personal assistant who could stay on top of these things. Wouldn’t it?

 

Talked to my son and Seoah yesterday with a cameo appearance by Ruth! And, Murdoch. They were in Seoul yesterday, seeing the Buddhist Monastery and the big convention hall which has so many restaurants. Alert readers will remember that I saw the Seoul Biennale there when I went in 2023.

Jang family money has been let loose into the world financial system, headed toward my checking account. I’ll pay preliminary costs like airline tickets, air bnb reservations, baseball tickets using this money. Three way split on expenses: my son and Seoah, Seoah’s family, and me. Once in a lifetime for the Jangs. Worth it. Family first.

My son took Ruth to the DMZ, that live border between two countries still technically at war under the terms of an armistice. She’s having an amazing time.

 

Just a moment: On resistance. Seed-keeping. My primary actions right now. Keep my friends close. Especially those friends in vulnerable communities. Strengthen our bonds. See to each other’s safety in outright anti-Semitic, homophobic, racist, misogynistic times. How? Play dates among Shadow, Annie, and Luna. With their moms, Ginny and Janice. Having Luke and Leo up for a laundry, conversation afternoon. Stay in weekly touch with Marilyn and Irv, Alan, Joanne. Ruth and Gabe. Ron, Jamie, Susan. Keep all these seeds for a new, pluralistic tomorrow.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Nothing Hard Is Easy

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Friday gratefuls: Morning prayers. The Siddur. Bird song. Shadow running, running, running. Halle. Physical therapy. Kylie, my pain doc. Nerve ablations and Sprint. Sciatica. Ruby still with her Snowshoes on. Diane. The Jangs in August. Ruth in Korea.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kate, always Kate

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut. for P.T. and resistance.

One brief shining: Brief time with Halle yesterday, my back pain flare made her not want to push me; following her later in the day a visit to Kylie, my pain doc, in which we added her hip MRI to Buphati’s which means I’ll get both hips done on the 29th.

 

It’s odd, seeing my cancer and its stage 4 realities written about on the front pages of the NYT and the Washington Post. From many perspectives. Each situation, each person’s cancer has its own individual path. I am neither Biden nor Scott Adams. Yet we share this: in Stage 4 our cancer is incurable.

Unless we die of something else first, prostate cancer will, as Kristie, my urological oncologist, said, run its course. Which means it will kill us. We can opt for dignity in dying in Colorado and if mine proceeds to its end point, I’ll consider that if the pain becomes too much.

A hospice nurse wrote an op ed about her Dad’s prostate cancer. She spoke gently. About physicians often wanting to go on, on beyond a life with no quality to a life continued because more treatments, more scans are available. About how hospice offers another alternative. About a peaceful death versus one strung out by procedures and medicine. I’m inclined to her way, yet how to know when that moment comes?

My life has purpose, meaning. I’m a family man with siblings, a son and daughter-in-law, grandkids, a dog, friends, a community. I’m a spiritual seeker with writing I want to do about Judaism, about a tactile spirituality. I enjoy a good book, a good movie, good food. I have a home I love and feel comfortable in. I’m embedded in the Rocky Mountains with wild neighbors. Not at all ready to sign off.

However. This next two weeks I have a long MRI on my hips and a PET scan. Then a visit with my oncologist to see if further therapies make sense in light of the findings. I had a visit with my pain doc to try to gain a handle on my back.

I’m in the scans and imaging, let’s try this phase of both prostate cancer and back pain. It gets old, tiring in and of itself. Arranging rides. Appointments. New meds and procedures. New doctors.

Having all these news articles has made me think a lot about my own situation, as you can tell. More than I would on my own.

Another wrinkle rises up with the back pain. As it aggravates me, it reduces my resilience. Which means I have to sort out moods created by pain from moods created by cancer. So I can be clear about what’s affecting my judgment.

Nothing hard is easy.

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

Suffering. Shadow. Shame.

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Thursday gratefuls: Natalie. Diane. Ruth. Seoah. My son. Korea. Morning darkness. Radical Roots of Religion. Art Green. The One. Ritual. Prayer. The Morning Service. Shadow, shredder of Kleenex. Outside work with her. My back yard. The Bearberry. The Clump Grass. That leaning Lodgepole. The Lilacs in Kate’s garden. Nathan coming today to look at the foundation he wants to make for the greenhouse. For Halle and all the traveling physical therapists.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greenhouse

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, for physical therapy.

One brief shining: Worked for two hours yesterday with Natalie and Shadow and Cooper, her 6 month old English Cream Lab, wandering the yard, dropping treats behind me, letting Shadow come in front of me, then turning and walking away, waiting for her to follow, Cooper bounding in his slow sure way next to Natalie, more, as she said, a people dog than a dog dog.

 

Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, in the NYT: “My life expectancy is maybe this summer,” he said. “I don’t have good days,” he said. “Every day is a nightmare. And evening is even worse.” NYT

This in an article revealing he had, at 67, an aggressive form of prostate cancer. Oh, boy. His words scared me, especially as I hobble around in the early morning before my back and hip begin to loosen up.

Then, I go back to my own journey, now in its eleventh year. Not aggressive. Slow growing. Still hormone resistant. Could be worse, a lot worse.

My heart sinks for Adams and for Biden. Fellow travelers on this ancientrail nobody wants to follow. Cancer, as I told Kathy, a stage 4 breast cancer survivor, is a humbug.

In our small mussar group we have multiple myeloma, breast cancer, a blood cancer, prostate cancer. Leslie, a former member died of liver cancer and Judy, my friend from MVP, of ovarian cancer.

No wise words here. Just an observation that suffering and angst pervade the human story, are not rare. Common. Which could serve as a reminder to be kind.

 

Dog journal: The two hour session with Natalie wore us both out. Shadow went to bed around 5, two hours early. I had to remind her to go outside before bedtime. We walked a lot. My own fatigue caused me to message Natalie and say no more two hour sessions.

And yet. I can feel a change. As we let up on the obedience and began to work on building trust. Responding to subtle clues I had missed. Waiting for Shadow’s consent before touching her. Watching if her weight is on her hind legs or her front legs. Is she leaning in or preparing to exit?

 

Just a moment: Seems like our golden shower boy wants to relive his gory days on The Apprentice by saying the political equivalent of, “You’re fired!” to heads of state. First, Zelensky in a shameful moment in U.S. history. Yes, pretty bad. Then exploiting the situation to get rare minerals.

Now, in a beyond shameful clash with the President of South Africa, declaring white Afrikaners, the architects of apartheid, subject to genocide. This is not even a dog whistle to the white supremacists in his base. It’s a y’all come on, we got this now.

 

Dogs, Health, Politics, US History

Halle and Shadow

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Natalie. Halle. Physical therapy. Back and leg pain. Natalie’s husband. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Art Green. Cool night. Good sleeping. New exercises. Our spinning Planet. Great Sol revealed again. From the east. His light on the Lodgepoles. Grass green. Aspen Catkins yellow against blue Sky. Lodgepole Anthers. Fawns and Calves and Kits and Cubs. Spring in the Rockies.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. For working out, doing p.t.

One brief shining: Sitting down on the mobile table, talking with Halle, a bit later face down with her massaging my lower back, after that dropping my knees to the side, controlled, does it hurt, oh yes, but not too bad. See you next week.

 

Back pain: Halle from Madisonville, Kentucky. What brought you to Colorado, Halle? Oh, didn’t I tell you last time? I’m a traveling physical therapist, like a traveling nurse.

She goes for a year or so, or longer, then picks up and moves. Last year she was in Albuquerque.

What a great way to see the country, new places. She imagines she’ll end up back in Kentucky, but, she says, she could do this her whole life if she wanted.

Halle has a great table side manner. Encouraging. Thoughtful. Challenging. I like her.

 

Dog journal: Natalie of Friends for Life. Came by to assess Shadow for her two week training program. Older than Amy, maybe 50. Lavender tinted hair. Amethyst earrings. Purple t-shirt. Deep dog knowledge, especially of fearful dogs.

Her husband, a retired long haul truck driver, had a stroke last year. Is in a long recovery. We talked about caregiving and care giver fatigue.

We also talked about having a buffer dog for Shadow, a dog who could take some of my attention off her, ease the pressure on both of us. A good idea. Not sure I’m up for two dogs though.

We also talked about Shadow as a fearful, shy dog. How to tell if she’s ready for interaction.

Natalie suggested a game of follow me. I put a treat down. When Shadow comes to get it, I turn and walk away. She follows, comes around the front. I drop a treat in back, then turn and walk away. Repeat. Repeat. This leaves her in control.

Also, I’m to feed Shadow by hand, about half of her meal. All about building trust. Natalie’s not big on obedience training. As I am not. What we both want is a relationship of trust and affection with our dogs. That’s how Kate and I always lived with our dogs.

The big difference with Shadow is her fearfulness, her trauma. And, her age. Natalie will teach us how to gently enter each other’s lives. I’m confident with Natalie’s help we can get to a mature relationship in time. A relief.

Natalie’s coming back today. A blitz for a couple of weeks, then weekly sessions.

 

Just a moment: “In a White House meeting, the U.S. president is expected to point to alleged discrimination against white South Africans, a week after welcoming a group of them as refugees.” NYT article, 5/21/25

Oh. My. God.

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Travel

Ruth Goes to Korea

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Ruth’s first meal in Korea

Monday gratefuls: Ruth. In Korea! Seoah’s note. Ruth’s journey. Rich. Doncye. Mary. Her journey. Minneapolis to Singapore to K.L. to Incheon. My son’s journey from 9/11 to command. Shadow and her journey. All ancientrails. Each and every one.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Love

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: Messages came in: In Calgary, the people are so nice here and things are cheaper; Currently walking to board the plane, the big plane; I’m flying over the long archipelagoesque part of Alaska; I don’t know what the cause is, but it got dark in like two minutes. Then came the picture from Seoah.

 

Ruth getting Kate’s little black bag for her 19th birthday

Our all dean’s list all the time Ruth has vaulted through the heavens on a great circle route taking her far to the north before returning to Earth at Incheon, South Korea. Now a world traveler, far from Northdale High and CU-Boulder.

Ruth, in some ways, feels more like a daughter to me than a granddaughter. Since my son was my only child. It fills me up to watch her post-high school self take wing. Literally yesterday. She texted messages all the way along on her flight. (see one brief shining)

We shared many breakfasts and lunches at CU-Boulder over her freshman year. Our relationship has deepened over this time and it touches a part of me that blossomed only with her. That’s the part that feels more like a daughter. A female to nurture on a growing up path. Different than a son.

Seeing her eating a bowl of what I imagine is bibimbap, in Korea. Oh, my. To see the world anew, to see Asia for the first time at 19. To confidently travel abroad. To go with the sense that life has only begun to unfold, that these new experiences have begun a journey, not ended one. I can feel that again through and with her.

 

Took Mary to the Federal Center RTD stop in Lakewood. She boarded the train headed to the same airport where, at 7 am, Ruth had caught her first of the three flights that took her to Korea.

I need a map with LED avatars to keep up with my family. I’m the still point, high up on Shadow Mountain. In a week most of those avatars would be clustered in Osan for my son.

 

Just a moment: Joe and me. Here’s an NYT explainer that details what it’s like now for those of us, including Biden, with stage 4 prostate cancer.

What applies to him in this article applies to me as well. We’re both in the hormone sensitive condition which means androgen deprivation therapy-knocking out testosterone production-still stops the cancer from spreading further.

The new drugs the article mentions are there when androgen deprivation therapy no longer works. Those drugs are the 5-7 year life span extenders. And neither one of us are on them yet.

My cancer is not particularly aggressive, just durable, meaning it beat the best treatments available for curing it. I’ll know more about my status in early June after a new MRI and a new P.E.T. scan.

 

 

 

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hawai'i, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Paganism

Another Place I Could Be Happy

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Friday gratefuls: New, piercing pain. Left hip and leg. Shadow. Natalie. Alan and Joanne. Dandelion. Donyce. Rich. Ruth’s 529. Now available. Lifealert. New fob. Diane. Jogging again. Living with aging bodies and alert minds. Halle. New physical therapist. Mary, coming today. My son. Seoah. Murdoch.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth and her first international trip

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: A busy, physical week of doctors, long drives, filling out forms for the cancer support trial, Amy, two zoom classes, that would have been a decade ago a light week, the difference pain can make.

 

All I can say is, damn it! Now the left hip, so painful. Wasn’t sure I could get down five stairs holding onto the rail and a cup of coffee. That’s beginning to get in the way of daily life.

Sorry. Don’t mean to leave a trail of agony on these pages, yet honest reporting requires acknowledgment of what’s going on. After seeing Buphati, I’m left wondering if both hips might have metastatic cancer. Sure hope not.

We’ll know soon. Next P.E.T. scan June 3rd. Not yet scheduled for my open-sided MRI. But in the next week or two.

This cancer/pain path I’m on demands a lot. Got accepted into a Sloan-Kettering trial to determine the better of two therapeutic protocols for cancer patients over the age of 70. Filled out pages and pages of a survey about anxiety and depression, other mental health matters. I’ll have eight phone therapy sessions with somebody. Then, booster sessions after that for four months.

There are nuances to managing my mental health and my spiritual health (which I see as more important than either physical or mental health). I look forward to discussing them with someone paid to listen to me.

Why is spiritual health most important? Because it contains the broader context in which both mental and physical health reside. Being one with the Tao, allowing the wu wei of physical illness and pain to run their course without stiff-arming them. Experiencing the occasional fear and dread as part of my inner work, work strengthened by mussar, by being part of two sacred communities. Taking the solace of Shadow Mountain, its Lodgepoles and Mule Deer and Aspen and late season Snow as it offers itself to me. Seeing the whole sacred world as my home.

With those as context neither pain nor death can have permanent control of my psyche. Because pain and death are momentary, passing, but my location in the sacred unity of all things will remain.

 

Just a moment: I find myself watching TV shows set on Islands. Death in Paradise. Hawai’i 50. Deadly Tropics. Moana and Moana 2, movies. I know, low brow in the extreme. Yet I love the combination of lightly considered mystery and the sights and sounds of Islands.

Something about Island life calls to me. Not over against Mountain life which I also love, but as another place I could be happy. Why Hawai’i itself reached out to me not so long ago.

Dogs, Health, Politics

Which is better?

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Wednesday gratefuls: Natalie. Friends Forever. Coming Friday. Hello, darkness, my old friend. Bird song. Shadow outside. Select Physical Therapy. Halley. Amy, today. Radical Roots of Religion. Exercising.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Natalie

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: Bird song speaks to the dawn as it comes to Shadow Mountain, a coolness remains from the night, and I sit here, hitting the keys on my laptop.

 

chatgpt portrait from a Shadow photo

Dog journal: Shadow and I have reached a detente. I leave the backdoor open and the bedroom door. When she needs to, she can seek safety under the bed, or wander outside. Last night, right at 8:30 she came inside, went under the bed. I slept much better.

Natalie, of Friends Forever and the two week boarding and training experience, and I talked yesterday. She had some interesting thoughts on Shadow’s trauma. She could have experienced a pole catch during the fire or been forcibly drug away with a leash.

She also talked about the 7-9 month age range for a puppy, roughly Shadow’s age. Hormones kick in at that point and the Puppy has an, oh, yeah, I hear you, but-No, sorta attitude. I saw it in Shadow a month or so ago.

She also said that Dogs who are hyper-vigilant often experience things as being done to them, rather as an opportunity to learn. And even if they do learn something, they often forget it.

She’s coming by Friday to assess Shadow. I hope she’ll take Shadow in the boarding/training program. She sounded kind and knowledgeable. She also has a Border Collie, a similar breed to Shadow, who is older and calm.

 

Had physical therapy yesterday. With Halle from Madisonville, Kentucky. A cheery young gal. Knows her trade. After a careful review of my medical history, she had me doing standard baseline moves. Standup straight. Arms to the side. Bend to the left, now the right. Bend over, try to touch your toes. Bend backwards.

Pressure on my spine, my buttocks, hips. Does this hurt? A bit. Yes! Some. Not much.

She introduced me to three simple exercises which did help me get out of bed easier this morning. I enjoy working with her.

Near the end of my time with her I plan to go back to on the move fitness, get some new workouts from Deb. It’s been a couple of years.

 

Just a moment: Dollar diplomacy has inflated to billion and trillion dollar diplomacy. Also, Qatar’s bribe, a tricked out, in Royal Arabian Peninsula style, 747. Goldfinger loves big numbers, big deals.

Croesus. Midas. Would be Goldfinger friends for sure had they lived in this era. Vanderbilt. Carnegie. Mellon. James J. Hill. All exemplars of the golden rule: He who has the gold rules.

A very common form of government over the ages. If you liked slavery, you’ll love oligarchy and autocracy. Remember the divine right of kings? Or, in the Chinese instance, the mandate of heaven.

Power in the hands of a few or in the hands of the people. Which sounds better?

 

Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism

A Good Friend

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Tuesday gratefuls: Detente with Shadow. Ruth with all A’s to finish her freshman year. Sweet Sue, my PCP. Abby, med tech and phlebotomist. Dr. Buphati’s quick intelligence. Rich, a good friend. A second MRI, hips this time. And, for good measure, a PET scan. As many images as a celeb out for a party evening.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rich

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: On the way back from a Mountain hike, he mentioned Bees, explained his hives-on-a-wire (Bear protection), invited me over right away to see his setup; Rich and I have developed a friendship, one rooted not only in Bees, but in the work of mussar, his work as my lawyer, his kindness after Kate died, his presence at my oncology appointment, a mensch.

 

Another one of those days. A medical day. With Sue in the morning and Dr. Buphati in the afternoon. Sue has to see me every 3 months because she’s managing my tramadol prescription. A regulated substance. She’s a delight. A caring person and a good doc. She has an FNP-BC which is a souped up nurse practitioner certification.

Nothing new this visit. But still reassuring to see her.

After my time with her, I drove over to Rich’s office and we went to lunch at the Nepalese/Himalayan place in Bergen Park, the downtown Edina of Evergreen.

We ran into his 86 year old mom who had come shopping there. She had her helper, Linda, and her dog, Sparky, with her. Obviously bright and with it, she’s become frail, and Rich coaxed her to come up two steps. He’s a kind man.

Rich drove us into Englewood for my visit with Dr. Buphati and came in with me. My blood work showed stability in my cancer. Always good news. Concerning though was my right hip which threatens to buckle under me at times.

“We’ll need an MRI of that hip to see if it’s arthritis or cancer. I’m also scheduling another PET scan.”

Even with an open-sided MRI I now know I’ll need medication. Claustrophobia. “I’ll prescribe an ativan.”

Rich volunteered to drive me to the MRI. After a procedure with sedation, state law requires a driver. I’m learning to accept help; Rich and Alan and Tara have made it easy.

I’m feeling settled with the cancer. It continues, as it will. My medical team and I push back at it and it slows down. Matters will progress at whatever pace they do.

The back pain much less so. It continues and offers now a stabbing pain in my left hip followed by a thrill of pain that descends from the hip, along my left thigh, past my knee and down to my foot. While sitting down. Sitting down used to have no pain.

Physical therapy, round two, starts today for my back. As Rich suggested yesterday, I need to develop enthusiasm for working out. Again. A substantial practice for this month. And, a necessary one.

I know. An organ recital with too many notes. Still…

 

Commentary on Religion, Dogs, Health, Mussar

A New Pope

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Friday gratefuls: Marilyn and Irv. Alan. The Cheesecake factory. Shadow, the night Hawk. Pope Leo XIV. A Chicago boy. Exhaustion. Ritalin. 12″ of heavy Snow. Melted. The Solar Snow shovel. That long nap yesterday. Cookunity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: An American Pope

Week Kavannah: Enthusiasm. Zerizut.

One brief shining: After a late night from MVP, Shadow kept me up even later, past midnight, then licked my head and whined at her usual 5 am time leaving me more than exhausted yesterday and napping through the morning missing Diane and my class at Kabbalah experience.

 

Also failed to pick up my ritalin, I realized. No wonder I crashed on Thursday. Gotta switch those meds to Safeway. Can’t get ritalin or tramadol through the mail. Controlled substances. Walgreen’s made sense when my doc was in Evergreen, but the clinic is moving here to Conifer.

Anyhow Thursday was a washout, rest and relax day. Unintentional since Thursday tends to be my busiest day of the week with Diane, Kabbalah class, and Thursday mussar.

 

How bout that Leo XIV? Chi town. A south sider. A naturalized Peruvian. Another Pope from Latin America. One with a bias toward the poor, the left out. The marginalized.

An adroit move if the consideration went: Trump is a big problem for the world. For the poor. Look at USAID. Francis sensitized us to the needs of the marginalized as a world church. How about an American pope with strong ties to the Third World? Multi-lingual. And familiar with the Vatican and its ways. Prevost was that guy.

He headed the Vatican department that vetted bishop candidates. A gatekeeper role for future church leadership. He also spent decades among the poor in Peru. While there he twice became leader of his order, the Augustinians.

I’m heartened by his selection. We need more voices for the poor, for justice. No, I won’t agree with all of his views, nor he with mine; but, we share core values, too.

 

Meanwhile on Shadow Mountain. Shadow of Shadow Mountain has regressed in her coming in and going out. Unpredictable. I may have to open the door for her several times before she feels comfortable coming in the house. Why? I have no idea. If I did, I might be able to figure out a solution.

Too, the twelve inches of heavy, wet Snow that fell on Tuesday and Wednesday has melted off roads and driveways. Still some patches in my north facing backyard. Enough to move Smoky’s hand from high fire risk to low.

 

Just a moment: I’ve been pondering a view of the human from the stand point of mussar and Jewish thought.

Here’s some preliminary work. The neshama, the pristine soul, our link to the whole, still must engage the world. That’s what the nefesh does. Spurred by the pristine connected neshama, the nefesh moves me out into the world through desire. Desire for food, for safety, for love, for education. Desire without valence.

Our yetzer hatov, our good inclination, and our yetzer hara, our selfish inclination, try to influence how we live our desires. Our will recognizes both the desires and the yetzer’s attempt to direct our action. That is the bechira point, the moment when we actively choose to satisfy a desire following a healthy, just path, or a selfish, self involved path.

 

 

 

Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mussar

A Busy Thursday

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II

Friday gratefuls: Alan. Snow. Ruby’s all season shoes. On Monday. Plus many fluids. Back pain. PSA blood draw. Cancer. And other fancy stuff. Shadow and the marrow bones. Tom’s portrait of Shadow. Lake Superior. The Boreal Forest. The Arrowhead. Grand Marais. Thunder Bay. Up North. Parashat Tazria-Metzora

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Being a student

Week Kavannah: Persistence. Grit. Netzach.

One brief shining: The Mountains rise up and slope down into Valleys, our roads here in the Rockies thin slices of asphalt or gravel following the rising up and the sloping down, the changes in direction commanded by rocky prominences and Snow melt filled Streams carrying the Mountains themselves downstream ever so slowly, slowly.

 

Yesterday. Seems so far away. So far away. Diane reminded me to ask for help. To set up ways to get to appointments-not only when I’m being sedated. I know this transition has to occur. Yet I’ve gone so long now on my own. I need, yes need, to let others do for me what I would do for them.

Irv and Paul and I discussed the nature of evil, whether it exists at all or is just a human construct.

At the Kabbalah Experience we continued our exploration of the story of Adam and Eve. This time wondering about our ability to live outside the givenness of our lives, to see what we cannot know exists.

Dave Sanders offered the Truman Show as an example. A simulacrum. Where is the edge of our learned world? Do we need a stage light to crash through the set for a big reveal?

His point? The Garden of Eden as Seahaven, the village in Truman’s life. A small paradise filled with every needful thing. The stage light, the Snake and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Bad. The expulsion as Truman’s daring escape on the sail boat.

Later Rabbi Jamie and our Thursday afternoon mussar group discussing the middah of bushah, most often translated as shame. Not in Jamie’s translation of the Orchot Tzaddikim. He uses self-consciousness or conscientiousness.

Bushah arises when we realize we have been less than who we see ourselves to be. Shame comes when we see ourselves not as less than we see ourselves to be, but when we see ourselves as less than intrinsically. Shame, in other words, is an extreme, even perverted instance of bushah. Guilt, embarrassment, chagrin may represent the mid-point of this continuum from shyness to shame, the healthy feelings that encourage us to investigate our behaviors, then act to change them.

After all that I drove over to Evergreen Medical for a blood draw, another PSA. My every three month peek into the status of my cancer. Waiting for the hormone resistant shoe to drop. Wish I could allay that feeling, expunge it. Just wait and see.

But I know that’s the next phase of this journey, that it marks a more treacherous road ahead. A part of me wishes we’d just get on with it. Go down the chemotherapy path or other treatments for hormone resistant Stage 4 prostate cancer.

I don’t want that, not really. I want to stay where I am as long as I can. Androgen deprivation therapy, my current protocol, always fails. Not whether, but when. The waiting though carries its own cost. Will this blood draw be the one?

Living with this uncertainty and the insidious effects of back pain can create moments of intense darkness.