Category Archives: Health

Acting, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Korea, Sport, Travel

The Resistance

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Aspen Perks. A sunny Morning. Yet more Rain last night. Flood warnings. The merry, merry month of May. Mary’s end of semester Bark Day complete with food delivering robots. Mark’s good experience in Saudi Arabia. Alan. Parkside. 4 hours plus of workouts this week. Resistance back on. Pruning and art and bills today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breakfast this morning at Aspen Perks

One brief shining: Old enthusiasms never realized (so far) include hiking the Appalachian Trail, visiting the Rub Al-Kahli, exploring the Olduvai Gorge, seeing places remote and mysterious like the Amazon, the Veldt, the Outback, Shark’s Bay where the Stromatolites still live, Bhutan, places where humanity has to realize its place in the vast blooming, buzzing reality of wild nature.

 

Speaking up for the resistance. Resistance workouts. Now two weeks into my Anytime Fitness solution to resisting resistance. Feel better. Much better. With only two weeks!

Though I originally went with the idea of working my way back to my own equipment, I find the gym is another connection point with people. Brief and not deep, but real nonetheless. Dave, the manage. Doug Doverspike, the vet who took care of Kep. The recovering alcoholic. Over time I’ll see regulars, too. May keep going there at least until the winter. Then I might pick up on my own again. Anytime is ten minutes from home.

 

Breakfast with Alan at the Parkside. He’s currently acting in Zorro! The director recruited him for his role as the deposed Alcalde of 1809 Los Angeles. I admire his chutzpah, taking up the theater at 68. Voice lessons. Acting lessons. Directing lessons. He’s focused on acting though he does other things, too. Rotary and general tech and finance guy for CBE. Alan and I have a strong bond now. An essential part of my Mountain life. As with Marilyn and Irv. Tara. Rebecca. CBE. Jamie and Ron and Susan.

Speaking of acting. I’m returning to Tal’s acting classes which start this next week. This time it’s character study. Joann Greenberg will be in the class. Alan might join. I still have little interest in acting in a production, but I love the classes. They challenge me, make me work a different part of my heart-brain. Plus I meet new people.

 

This is my son and his wife’s last weekend on Oahu. Monday they crate up Murdoch and head to Inouye International for a flight to Incheon. Four years. I’m happy he’s got a command position and that she will be closer to family. We’ll use zoom and I’ll visit them. Murdoch will be close to genetic home ground, too.

 

How bout those Nuggets, eh? Jokic is the real deal. One of the all time greats. I’ve gotta get down the hill to see him play before his career is over. They could win the NBA this year. We’ll see. Western Finals are next.

 

Also, how bout that default? Playing chicken with the U.S. economy. Add this to Trump’s outstandingly awful, yet consistent, performance on CNN and the GOP should be on its last legs. Should be. Who knows what happens next year.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Great Wheel, Health, Hermitage, Judaism, Shadow Mountain

Friends and Acquaintances

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Joann. Rebecca. Terry. Coal Mine Chinese Restaurant. Evergreen, my Mountain town. Grieving. Alan. The Wildflower Cafe. Anytime Fitness. Doug Doverspike, bit in the face by a Catahoula. Dave. Urku. Catacachi, Ecuador. Rabbi Jamie. Tal. Character Study class. Kate. Her Creek running full into Maxwell Creek. Daffodils. Red Tips on the Aspen Branches.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends

One brief, shining moment: A blossoming time for me, a Beltane aspect of my Winter years, friends becoming richer and more available, travel prospects offering themselves, workouts back to resistance as well as cardio, a hobby with F1 and motorsports for diversion, feels like coming out of Plato’s Cave.

 

Small groups like mussar, mvp, dining out with friends either one-to-one or maybe four at most. Yes. Needed. Appreciated. Loved. More than that? Draining. Exhausting. So. I don’t do those hardly ever.

Last night out with Joann Greenberg, Rebecca Martin, and Terry, Rebecca’s partner. The Coal Mine Chinese Restaurant in Evergreen. They all knew the owner and all the owner’s kids. Lots of Evergreen years among those three. A thick culture. And with Rebecca and Joann even more years as friends. Back before CBE. Both at its beginning. 50 years ago. Felt privileged to be included.

 

In the morning yesterday breakfast with Alan at the Wildflower Cafe. Sitting at at their outside tables on the Evergreen boardwalk. Breakfast nachos with carne asada, cheese, red sauce, Avocado’s. Coffee. Alan shaved his beard! For my craft, he said. He’s in a play that required him to play a younger character. Only the third time since 1977 he’s shaved. Grows back in about a month. No big deal. That’s Alan. He takes what comes and smiles about it.

After he left, I spent a little time wandering around the shops. I rarely do this because this part of Evergreen is touristy. Went into two places geared to separating the visitor from their money. Not interesting. However, the longtime shoe repair had a going out of business sale and I picked up a couple of pocket knives, nice ones, for $30.

 

Worked out for the second time at Anytime Fitness. Cardio at home, then 10 minutes over there. Swipe my fob. Hit the machines. Legs and upper body. What I needed. Not having to think about form. I already feel the pleasant exhaustion in my muscles afterward. Not sure how long I’ll use the machines because I’m used to using my own equipment. Though. Right now I need the ease of using the machines to get some strength back.

I did run into Dr. Doverspike there. He got bit by a Catahoula. And had the healing scars to prove it. The Dog launched himself at Doug’s face. Did not puncture his skull. But could have. Yikes!

 

Beltane celebrates the start of the growing season after the first renewal of Spring. Hand fasting marriages contracted for a year and a day. Farm labor hired. Sympathetic magic. Sex in the fields to encourage the union of the Maid and the Green Man. Jumping over fires for fertility. The May Pole.

I feel right in synch with the season. And it feels good.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Fungi, Hawai'i, Health, Judaism, Korea, Memories, Mussar, Sport, Writing

Stretched again. By love, by injustice.

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Monday gratefuls: Josh. Rebecca. Marilyn and Rabbi Jamie. Beltane. May Day. The merry, merry month of May. Cubensis. Anger at injustice. Baku Grandprix. Sergio Perez. Charles Leclerc. Mountain Streams running fast and full. My son and his wife. No furniture. Aloha to Hawai’i. Workout today. Richard Powers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: F1

One brief, shining moment: Those F1 cars, slim and downforced, all speed and bones, threw themselves around the street circuit in Baku, two hundred miles per hour past twelfth century city walls and the eighth century Maiden Tower, marrying, at least for two hours, the ancient history of Azerbaijan with the manic movement of twenty-first century high technology.

 

Quite a day yesterday. My first dose of psilocybin in about fifty years. A microdose. Floating. Peaceful. Glad to be alive and on the Mountain. Cubensis. Capsules from Josh. Delivered by Luke. Short lived, maybe two hours. The first step toward a psychedelic senior life. Feels right.

 

The Ancient Brothers wrote letters to their future selves and their past selves. Here are mine:

At 90

Hey, old man. I mean. Wow, dude. Look at you.

What? You’re 5’ 2” now? Sorry. I know. This spine, eh? How did you live so long?

Fish and chicken. Some pork. Lotsa veggies and fruit. Exercise. Good friends. With warm hearts.

I get that. That sounds like now. You know at our age, 76.

Well. There you go. Stay on the path. It’s working.

 

At 67

Guy, I wish I could prepare you for the next eight years. But I can’t. They’re gonna be tough. Rock bottom, knock the bottle over, don’t win any prizes hard.

Love. Death. Harsh illness. Family upset. All of that until you’re the only one left standing. With cancer.

And yet. Live into them, live into it all. As you face each one, your life will change. Pivot. Deepen. Grow sadder and yet more stable, too.

I love you and that gets you through, on the path.

 

Talked with my son and his wife. Their house is bare. Only the furniture that will go into storage is left. The nomadic life of a military career. Each time I see them I love them more, as if love can expand and expand, not only filling the vessel it inhabits but enlarging the vessel, pressing it into new, better shapes, shapes brighter, more luminous than the ones that came before. May this continue. A real blessing.

 

Watched the Baku Grand Prix on F1 TV. Slowly gaining a better understanding of race strategy, how drivers adapt to different tracks, how their cars get tuned for the specific challenges of the day. These F1 drivers are unicorns like all elite athletes. Reflexes and courage. Competitive. Glad to have this diversion, a hobby, I guess.

 

Later in the day Dismantling Racism at CBE. Oh, so hard. Even deciding how to talk with each other about it. One person spoke with some force and came up with what I think is the most succinct way of understanding anti-Black racism in our country I’ve ever heard.

We Jews, he said, left Egypt, left our oppressor behind. But Blacks in the U.S. have never had an Exodus moment, they have never left their oppressor behind and their enslavement follows them down to this day. Wow.

He went on to wonder what life would have been like for the Hebrews if they had been freed from slavery, yet never left Egypt. Also an interesting, very interesting question.

Which, come to think of it, makes me wonder how many instances in world history there are of whole peoples being subjugated as slaves.

Not sure where this class is going. It’s a new model, one that tries to use the wisdom of mussar for the inner work necessary to fight our own racism. My sense is that writers of the curriculum have underestimated the learning required to understand racism, first, then mussar, second, then meld the two into something that aids the actual dismantling of this peculiar institution.

I’m in it though, all the way. Trying to merge this round of struggle against racism with the reading I’m doing about the far right. Stretching. Yet again.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Mussar, Weather +Climate, Writing

It’s beginning to look a lot like…oh, wait. It’s almost May

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Spring (ha, ha) and the Mesa View Moon

Friday gratefuls: Grif. Second generation Coloradan, 4th generation Norwegian with cousins (distant) in Minnesota. Alan and the central coast wineries. Bivouac coffee’s espresso blend. The Bread Lounge and its multi-grain sourdough. Thursday mussar. Rebecca and Leslie. Kathy, another fellow traveler on the cancer journey. Campfire grill’s truffle mac and cheese.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Yet more Snow

One brief, shining moment: This challenge of Mark’s, to write more complex sentences, ones that glitter and shine on the page, perhaps sentences that belong more in novels written by really good writers, has stretched me, made me put writing in a new key, perhaps B sharp where my voice rarely strays above C.

 

Had that massage. Grif has a long, millennial hipster beard. Dark. A slightly dour expression. Sweaty palms when we shook on meeting. Perhaps not the most relaxing first sensation. A Norwegian. No kidding. Another one. I found a Norwegian in Colorado. Uff da. We have not yet discussed lutefisk. But, soon.

He’s a decent massagiynist. (I made that up. Can you tell?) I did not leave with that loopy about to melt into the floor feeling that I have after other massages, yet my body felt looser. This was, you may recall, a gift to myself after finishing radiation.

Decided to buy a five massage package, give Grif a boost. He seemed to need it. Going to try a different massage style next time. Neuromuscular. He asked me which of several types I wanted. I had no clue. My massage experience is limited. Not a Thai massage I said.

That’s a Bangkok story. Temple Wat Pho. That’s actually redudant since Wat means Temple. The day after I ruptured my Achilles tendon during a night time trip to a 7-11-I know, so mundane-I was in pain with what I thought was a sprained ankle. So, I thought. Get a massage. That could help me feel better all over. Right?

Nope. I paid $10 in bahts for a small Thai woman to attack me with multiple body parts. Elbows. Knees. Fingers. Shoulder. Oh, man. I don’t even remember if I felt better afterward.

 

Cheri, Alan’s wife, bought a trip to a California central coast winery at an auction to help the Colorado Ballet. In which Alan occasionally appears as an old guy with a white beard. When they need one.

They had a great time. It included a visit to the Victor Hugo winery, a boutique operation that produces only two wines, Quasi and Modo.

 

It was my first time back to Thursday mussar since January, maybe earlier. I’d attended on zoom some, but with Kep’s decline and the snow and other things, I hadn’t felt up to the drive. Two of the women, Leslie and Rebecca, both kissed me on the head! Not sure what that was about though it was clearly a sign of affection.

Kathy has stage four breast cancer. She’s had a mastectomy and 35 sessions of radiation. Sounds familiar to me. But the cancer won’t back down. She has scans every three months and blood work once a month. This last blood work had her tumor markers up. Not good.

But we both agreed our quality of life right now is good. That’s what matters. Cancer is a good teacher of what matters. Perhaps that’s its role in the larger culture, to strip away pretense and help us get down to the nub of life.

Perhaps.

Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Travel, US History, Weather +Climate, Woolly Mammoths

I’ll report back

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Spring (ha) and the Mesa View Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Vince. Dave at Anytime Fitness. Jose with United Health Care. Creeping my way past balance billing. A foot or so of Snow. More coming down and more on the way. Go Colorado! Fill those aquifers, plump up that Snow pack. Tom and Amber. Warren’s new knee. Kep, my sweet boy. Spring ephemerals waiting. Here. Spontaneity. Like my boy suggested. Israel.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

One brief, shining moment: Late spring Snow falling, falling, falling while the cracked Rock beneath my home drinks it in, filling up ready for the pump when summer dryness emerges, when the Grass turns brown, the Lodgepole Needles lose their lustre, and the Wild Neighbors come to the Mountain Streams hoping to find Water.

 

Signed up for the MAPS conference. Not cheap. Yet. It is. Because. Don’t have to fly to get there. Might check into a hotel for the three days. Just for fun. June. That’s big event one already prepared.

Plan to put down a deposit on the Israel trip next week. Want to wait a bit because of travel insurance. Gather a bit more information.

Checking out Kayak for Korea and Israel. Not too bad. Gonna spend some money on travel this year and next. Maybe as long as I’m able. Not having dogs frees me up. No leaving them behind. No kennel or house sitting fees.

 

I’m seeing the threshold more clearly now. Cancer managed. Fit. Healthy by the AARP definition: mobile, independent, cognitively sound. House painted and the art will get hung in May. Money available. Grief calm, never gone, but calm. No dogs. A chance to lean back into Korean and calculus. Write more. Love more. CBE. Ancientbrothers. Family. Live. A last, hopefully long chapter lies no longer ahead, but is present. Right now. I’m in it.

Want to celebrate this threshold. But how? Not sure yet. Considering.

 

Spent a long time on the phone yesterday. My very favorite thing. I’ve stamped out the $420 bill and the $5100 one has been elevated. Meaning the insurance company will deal with Centura Health. Not convinced it’s over yet. We’ll see.

I did learn that my insurance will pay for my gym fees at Anytime Fitness. Means I’ll join when I go over to checkout the machines today. Having that as a backup for my resistance work will make the difference I think.

 

After I finish Pogue’s Chosen Country, I plan to re-read Why Liberalism Failed. A rare thing for me. However I believe Deneen’s diagnosis of our woes makes sense on one level. That is, why many of our problems today turn on the question of individualism. And, I believe his explanation of the roots of those problems probably makes sense. That’s one reason I want to re-read it. History of ideas is a strength of mine and I can trace thought like he can.

Where I don’t believe I agree with him is on his understanding of liberty as the key. It feels too pat, too reductionistic. I’ll report back after round two.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Korea, Travel

Fitness, Psychedelics, and Travel

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Spring and the Mesa View Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: 1-2 feet of snow tonight. Canceled removal of my snow tires. Tom. Amber. Kate, always. Mark. Mary. Diane. My son and his wife. Movers next week. Ode’s challenge. MAPS conference in June. Getting right with those SOB’s over billing me. Today. Safeway pickup. Stinker’s milk. Anytime fitness. Israel. Korea. Getting out of town.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A big Spring Snow

One brief, shining moment: Mountains so vast as to be incomprehensible by the human, yet here’s a comparison realized as a fighter jet flies across the Colorado morning Sky, how much fuel, energy of the Sun captured by Plants and cooked by Mother Earth for millions of years, it takes to keep them from falling to Earth, defying gravity, while the Mountain, too, rises into the Sky and required only an initial push.

 

Good workout yesterday morning. Still not doing resistance work. Need to. Decided to contact Anytime Fitness. Idea. Start back to resistance work on machines. Not have to worry about form. Just the workout. A few months, then back to my own dumbbells, kettlebells, TRX.

Went over there. It’s only 10 minutes from home. Talked to Dave. An older guy, the manager. Friendly. They have a good setup. I can go over after my cardio, which I’ll still do here. Put in 20 minutes on the machines. Start fighting back. Sarcopenia. Chemo. Inertia. Going on Wednesday for run through on the machines. Might talk to a coach there to get an initial workout. Might not.

Who knows? I might like it well enough to keep it up. Or, I’ll circle back to my own. Whatever keeps me at it. That’s the goal. Cardio’s a lock. I need the resistance work to get back there, too.

 

After I talk to my buddy Tom, I’m going to call United Health Care and I’m not getting off the line until my ghost bills have given up the, well, ghost. $430. $5,100. That. I. Do. Not. Owe. But that keep showing up. Frustrating does not describe it.

 

I’m planning a busy Summer and Fall. Going to attend the MAPS conference here in Denver. What is MAPS? Why, it’s the multidisciplinary association for psychedelic studies. This is the perfect time for the conference in my own renewed journey.

Friend Luke comes Saturday with some home grown LBMs. Little brown mushrooms. Psilocybin. Don’t think we’ll do them. At least not right then, but I do plan to try microdosing. More important. He’s bringing his dog, Leo. I need some doggy time.

 

Late summer, when my son and daughter-in-law give me the signal, I’ll fly to Korea for a month. Visiting them, seeing the peninsula. Take the bullet train to Seoul and Gwangju. Tourist time in Seoul. See the DMZ. See her parents and family in and around Gwangju.

Then in November. The Middle East. Israel. A tour with CBE. Probably go a week or so ahead of the tour and travel on my own before that. Take in Jerusalem, wander. I’m ready to open out again, see the world. And it feels pretty good.

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

Ancora Imparo

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Spring and the Mesa View Moon

Friday gratefuls: The end of radiation. No more drives to Lone Tree. No more creepy Hal machine up close to my head. Beethoven’s Ode to Joy. Snow on its way. Cold night. Slept well. Kate’s yahrzeit. Recognized at the service tonight. Peanut butter and pickle sandwiches. Erleada in the mail. Dreams. The dream group. Next Friday. Ready almost for the threshold. Gabe and the dog treats.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The end of radiation

One brief, shining moment: The intimate assassin took some hits over the last three weeks, suffering under high intensity radiation delivered through the Cyberknife aperture deep into my body, shriveling his forces, perhaps delivering the same death blow he sought for me.

 

Finit. For now. Maybe for good. But cancer has its devices and as Dr. Simpson admits we just don’t know all we need to know. I will not miss the drive to Lone Tree, a freeway adventure from start to finish. Lots of trucks. High speed Colorado pickups expressing their anxiety about life through rapid movement.

Not sure whether it was the radiation or the long drive or the constant reminder that I have cancer but this last three weeks wore me out. Slept 10 hours two nights ago and again last night. Plan to take today and the weekend as lower energy days. Though.

 

Gabe’s big birthday dinner is tomorrow tonight. I got a text from him this morning asking me to clean out some spilled dog treats in the back seat. He’s psyched up as we used to say. Going to Benihana with his friends. And his grandpa.

And. Kate’s yahrzeit is today. 30 Nisan. As the Jewish month of Spring phases into the month of light. I’ll go to the service tonight. Stand for the kaddish in honor of her.

Sunday I’ll be at the synagogue from 1:30 to 4:30. 1:30 is an informational meeting about a trip to Israel in October. At 3 pm I have the first Dismantling Racism class.

Maybe I’ll extend those lower energy days into the next week, come to think of it.

 

James Pogue’s book Chosen Country covers most of the recent rebellions in the West, starting with Clive Bundy’s against BLM restrictions on cattle grazing on  BLM lands. He has a chapter on a miner’s stand against BLM’s finding of noncompliance for his gold mine and cabin. Security organized by the Oath Keepers and III percenters. The book’s focus is the Malheur occupation in Oregon.

After reading Jeff Sharlet’s Undertow, Imami Perry’s South to America, Stephen Greenblatt’s The Swerve, Patrick Deneen’s Why Liberalism Failed, Matthew Rose’s  A World After Liberalism, Wes Jackson’s Becoming Native to This Place and dipping into Stephen Wolfer’s The Case for Christian Nationalism, Vibrant Matter by Joan Bennet, Seeing Like a State by James C. Scott, I’m beginning to get a clearer picture of the roiling currents muddying the waters in the U.S. right now. Not ready yet to talk much about what I’m learning, some of it’s still organizing itself in my mind.

I know this much. There is no easy political fix for any of this. Though I do see some possible alliances that might bring folks together in very strange bedfellow ways. More on this to come as I keep reading. Talking.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health

Reminders

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Spring and the Mesa View Moon

Thursday gratefuls: #8 and last radiation session. Diane. Tom. The Ancient Brothers. Kat, who’s reading the book. Kate, my sweet soul companion. Jon, a memory. Breezy. A bit of sway in the Lodgepoles, the Aspen Buds red at Branch tips, waving to their neighbors. Sun bright. Sky blue. Clouds white and fluffy. Resting heart rate down to 63 bpm. Good sleep. Luke, who has the psilocybin. Leo, his dog. Kep, of blessed, sweet memory. Breakfast out. A treat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Simcha

One brief, shining moment: Simcha-a Hebrew word that always reminds me of the Lion King or Tarzan comic books- means joy, said to be by the sages a spiritual obligation and I wonder how that can be, then how sublime always seeking and finding the wonderful, the awesome, the delightful within and without, what a marvelous way to live!

 

Yesterday I spoke the truth, but it was maybe not the best thing to say. At Anova for #7 radiation. A guy came out in the blue drawstring pants. A slight belly, a round mellow face, taller than me. They’re ready for you. I have to drink more water. Ah. I remember that. How far along? 34  out of 35. But you’ve had this before and you’re back? Yes, it doesn’t always work.

Ooops. This guy’s there with his wife, both wearing Toronto Blue Jay fan shirts. She’s a beauty. Smiling, gray hair. A sort of woman that appeals to me. No makeup. Supporting her guy.

I went on back. Ordered up Patsy Cline. Laid down with the red laser markers converging near my chin as she comes on: I’ve got your class ring that showed you care, and it still looks the same as when you gave it dear, but I’ve got your class ring and she’s got you.

Robocop/Cyberknife/Dalek lurches into position, the apertures click open, click closed. I’m thinking what can I say that will make that less dispiriting.

A lady I don’t know comes back and tells me to wait while she lowers the table. They lift you up as the priests did the omer and lambs in the Second Temple.

On my way out the Toronto Blue Jay is on his feet, ready to become the next one on the altar. Many sacrifices this day.

Hey, dude. I didn’t mean to bum you out. Pointing at myself I said, somebody has to be on the thin end of the bell curve. You’ll fatten up the middle. He and his beautiful wife laughed. Maybe just a bit too much. Did I just reinforce what I’d said? Don’t know. Out of my control. But I did what I needed to.

As these radiation sessions come to an end for me, I realize they’ve taken an emotional toll as well as a physical one. They have been, for three weeks, a reminder that I’m wrestling with what I called earlier the intimate assassin, an assassin that has already breached the castle gate, and waits inside for its moment.

Usually I have these reminders every three months, when I have blood drawn and then visit Kristie or Dr. E. I’ll be glad to go back to that schedule.

 

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Shadow Mountain

Attacked

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Spring and Kepler’s Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: The Cyberknife. Kim and Patti. Ruby. Going for radiation trips again. Ivory, now at home with Ruth. Good sleep. A Mountain Morning, Sun, blue Sky, alert Lodgepoles. Black Mountain. And its ski runs. Marilyn and Irv, brunch at 10. Radiation #6 today. Good workout. That Landice treadmill. Hiking. Burning Bear Creek Trail. An excellent resting heart rate. Perry Mason on HBO Max. James Pogue’s Chosen Country: A Rebellion in the West.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: This Day, this Wild and Precious Day. The only one we’ve got.

One brief, shining moment: The Lodgepoles this morning put their best Bark forward, Branches swooped down as always, drinking in the true food, the only food, the radiation that feeds us all wrought in the massive fusion furnace of our not too close, not too faraway Star.

 

Continuing a theme from my Robot Overlords post. Radiation #5 was the first of three targeting my thoracic vertebrae. My third.

It creeped me out. The beak of the Cyberknife’s head, fitted with a camera like aperture that opens and closes with clicking sounds, hovered the whole time near my chin. Aiming beams of radiation from 50 different positions determined by Dr. Simpson and the medical physicist.

Irrational, yes. I felt under attack. Not to the point that I felt actual fear, but it was too close to my head. As long as the beams got aimed at my abdomen, well. I had 35 sessions of experience with that. We protect our heads from harm, both a learned and instinctive response to perceived dangers. Remember duck and cover? Putting hands over your head in case of nuclear radiation from a bomb. See.

Also, I could watch the aperture open and close. What its leaves held back was radiation that spilled in the wrong spot would do me harm. So close to my head.

After a bit of that I closed my eyes and listened to Bob Dylan. Who added this to the mix in my mind:

How does it feel, how does it feel?To be on your own, with no direction homeLike a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

Triggered a moment of self-pity. Yeah. On my own here. Like a complete unknown. Just me and the Cyberknife clicking away. How does it feel? How does it feel?

Self-pity. I prefer self-empathy. Chesed for myself. So with loving kindness I ratcheted myself back from the clicking of the Cyberknife, the feeling of mild dread, and recalled this. I do have a direction home. Back up the hill. To Shadow Mountain and Shadow Mountain Home.

I’m not on my own. I’m being walked home by so many, so many. Family and friends. Wild neighbors. Lodgepole Pines. Aspen. Black Mountain. The Sun. Orion. All those Dogs of blessed memory. This ancientrail we all walk together winds further up the hill until we reach the cloudy summit and disappear into the fine, dark realms. Realms we know not at all because they begin where this world ends.

Oh. BTW. On the way home on Hwy 470 a jet black Escalade passed me. I thought it was a hearse. In big gold Gothic letters on its back window though was this: FUCK CANCER.

 

Acting, Art and Culture, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health

Robot Overlords and Improv

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Spring and the Kepler Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Rebuilding Notre Dame. Wildfire. W.U.I. Kepler, my sweet boy, his memory for a blessing. Kate. A blessing always. Jon, a memory. Ruth, 17. Gabe, a week away from 15. Fresh Snow. 19 degrees. Good sleeping. Rabbi Jamie today on counting the omer. Alan. Rebecca back from India and feeling better after pneumonia. Scott, a reader of Ancientrails and a friend. Dogs.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dogs

 

Round 4. Miles Davis as the Cyberknife made its robotic transitions around my abdomen. If AI rebels and sends out robots after us humans. Fear them. The Cyberknife has constraints. For now. The route the medical physicist prescribes. Ensured by Patti at the controls. And, it’s bolted to the floor.

The Cyberknife is basically an industrial robot designed to deliver radiation in precise measures to exact spots in the body. Put it on treads, push its radiation up to kill. You see the problem. Also, it’s built of heavy, heavy metal. It would not go down easily.

Yes. OK. I do find the Cyberknife menacing. Sort of. It whirs around my body, pointing its raygun at me. Clicking. Clicking. Hard to not see the business end of it as a head with a weapon. I know it’s under control and in fact working for my benefit. Yes, I know that. However. Our all too human tendency to anthropomorphize.

After session number 5 on Monday, the focus of the treatments will change. Its aim will be just below my clavicle. Going through my esophagus to my T3 vertebrae. I imagine the sense of menace will increase. There is an odd disconnect between the disconcerting fact of a metal behemoth focused on my body and its healing function. Probably because I can neither see nor feel the radiation. I do trust Patti and Dr. Simpson. Otherwise…

 

The showcase for All in Ensemble, Tal’s new theater company, was fun. Whether it was intentional or not, he set up in CBE’s social hall. The effect was good organizing. More chairs had to be brought out. Then. No more chairs. SRO. Created a good buzz. I sat on the front row, on the far left. Maximizes my ability to hear. Which, even with my excellent hearing aid, is not good in these situations.

There were monologues and scenes for the Jewish American Playwrights class. Joann Greenberg gave a heartfelt and funny rendition of the funeral of Froem, a disliked member of a Yiddish speaking Jewish community in Germany. Hamish and Terrence went each other as a son, Terrence, betrayed by his businessman father. Hamish has a niche now. Tortured characters. And, he’s good at it.

The improv crew, which included Luke, did something unusual. Each actor, five altogether, gave a short monologue about their life. The improv took its cue from these monologues which were sprinkled throughout the performance.

The first monologue, offered by an older woman, told of an evening on the high seas where she was a cook aboard a yacht. Making spaghetti. In rough seas. She served guests on the high side and the boat heaved spilling the spaghetti back on her. I then went directly to bed.

Her story set the tone for the evening which eventually featured Poseidon, fish trying to make it on land, and a charming Prince Eric who wanted to conquer the land for his dad, Poseidon.

I admit it got me going again on the acting thing. Might try again.

 

One brief, shining moment. The Lodgepoles this morning wave in prayer to the Sun, encouraging it to shine, shine, shine and melt the Snow off their downswooping Branches so more food can be made, more of the  miracle without which all Animal life on Earth would perish.