Category Archives: Health

Coronavirus, Health, Politics

Settling in with Covid

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Oxygen concentrators. Conifer med. Ann Brown. Paxlovid. Covid. My bed. My schedule. Flexible. Illness. These strange and twisted times. The Aspen out the basement window. Lodgepoles behind it. Kep quiet for now. Liz Cheney. The GOP. Trump, the clown car President.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Paxlovid.

 

Wanted to get a Paxlovid script. Called my doc. Positive Covid test. OK, they said, we can see you tomorrow at 3:30. I’m 75, have prostate cancer and a compromised diaphragm. Let me see. OK. Come to the Conifer office at 11:30. Two kind persons came out, a med tech, and Ann Brown, a P.A.

The med tech got my vitals. Ann talked to me about the illness. She reminded me of Paxlovid rebound possibility. Biden. Due to low oxygen saturation numbers she wanted me to drive into the emergency room at Swedish for a chest x-ray. I was not eager to go further than back home.

She agreed to my going home since I have three oxygen concentrators left over from Kate’s long use. She ordered the Paxlovid and coached me:

If you can’t keep your o2 above 90 on the concentrator, go to the emergency room. If you get a fever of over a 102 go to the emergency room. If you get chest pains or shortness of breath, go the emergency room. The big concern is pneumonia, not the covid itself. Pay attention, Covid can turn.

At King Soopers, I got out in my Acorn slippers. Didn’t think I’d have to get out of the car. Walk up pharmacy. Got my drugs and went home. I couldn’t have made it down the hill to an emergency room. When I got home, myo2 sat was 78. The oxygen concentrator brought it back up. And continues to hold it at 90-94. May that continue.

In the times I’ve talked with docs and their staff about Covid something has stood out: respect. This virus has challenged them, met their efforts to ameliorate, and often has given them the slip. One doc said, Covid is weird.

In essence. Respect the disease because it can go down pathways we don’t expect and sometimes very quickly. So. I’ve got my oximeter, my oxygen concentrators, and my Paxvolid. Thermometer, too. Keeping tabs on myself.

 

The spreading stain of Trumpism and Trumpists. Makes me cry for our republic. Breaking something while claiming to defend it. A curious and tragic strategy.

 

Tired. Now. Tomorrow.

 

Coronavirus

Ah. Damn.

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: In home Covid tests. Feeling crummy. Kep. Sleep. Linda. A sweetheart. And, a Norwegian! Diane. A blue Colorado Sky. Lodgepoles lookin’ green. My body. Still at it. Dr. Simpson. A good guy. RJ. Positive meeting.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hawai’i

 

Oh, joy. A positive Covid test. Well, I’m no longer in that number. Of those who’ve not had it. Calling doc as soon as they open. Self-quarantine. Not sure how long. Right now at least not more than a bad cold. Knew something was off.

Not guilty. More angry. I’ve done what I could. Still got it. Damn. As it is. Do what I can now.

 

Am feeling unfocused, less than clear. Did get a good night’s sleep last night. That helped.

 

That’s all for today.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hawai'i, Health, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, The Move

This Medical and that Real Estate

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Timothy O’Leary, M.D. Kristie Kokeny, P.A. Linda Michaelsen, Realtor. Rain. Heavy Hail. Still Raining this morning. Zapping precancerous spots with liquid nitrogen. Discussing scan results. A sudden weariness around noon. Bad sleep. Achy legs. Heat as in hot, hot flash. Making the move more real. Possibilities. So many.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Getting things done, moving forward.

 

Dermatologist. Belly button probably psoriasis, my old nemesis. Quiet for eight years here. A couple of precancerous spots on my scalp. May have been when your hair started thinning. You didn’t know to protect it so much. Also a couple of dark, symmetrical spots that will bear watching. A nice guy, Timothy O’Leary. Compassionate. Appreciated.

 

Linda Michaelsen, the realtor who lives one minute away, came yesterday to look at the house, tell me what it needs. Not much. Some paint. Maybe a new two sink granite top in the upstairs bathroom. She says it will show well. The loft really got her going. Could be a rental unit, as could be the downstairs where I sleep. Lots of storage, room.

When I asked the big question, she said I’d be between eight and nine hundred thousand. She didn’t think I’d have any trouble realizing $500,000 after the sale and paying off my mortgage. We’ll see what Robert Martin, Compass Real Estate, and Alice Carmody of Tupper’s Team have to say, but I felt some relief after hearing that.

Talk with RJ this morning. Check out the impact of the capital gains exemption within two years of Kate’s death and after two years. $500,000 anytime before April 12. $250,000 after.

After this conversation the route forward will become clearer. Linda said the easiest way to clear out the house is to have an estate sale. Pondering that. Not sure exactly what that would entail, how to prepare, but it sounds promising.

Cousin Diane, bless her heart, offered to come out and help me get through the sorting process. She’ll be here October 11-16.

 

Kristie essentially drew the same conclusions I did after reading my scans. My lymph nodes are no longer swollen. Good news. Means the Erleada is working. Prostate cancer cells, after they escape the prostate, learn how to produce their own testosterone. Geez, guys. Earleada works by blocking the testosterone receptors on the cancer cells.

I will be talking today with Dr. Simpson, the radiation oncologist, who will further review my scans with me and talk about the hyperbaric chamber for healing my proctitis.

So. Much. Fun.

 

Felt off last night. Sudden heat flashes had me reaching for the Covid 19 test. Then the hot flashes receded. Short of breath. Feeling crummy. Continued into the night.

Sleep was episodic. Restless. Felt sorta sick, sorta not. This morning I feel pretty good, just sleepy.

 

 

Family, Friends, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, Woolly Mammoths

Elder on the Bench

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Monday gratefuls: Early workout. Kep. Realtors. Diane. Tom. Paul. Richard Powers. Dermatology. Clouds in the Sky. Rain yesterday. Hail, too. Looked like Snow. 64 on Shadow Mountain, 92 in Denver. Jon, Ruth, Gabe at the fish and chips place. Ruth has her own money now. Her job. Jon’s waiting for a disability severeness determination. Gabe starts high school today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Medicine

 

Ancient Brothers yesterday. Elder on a bench. My topic. A young man on the bench asked us to give him some thoughts on how to flourish in life. Each of us was to give 3 things that lead to flourishing for us.

It was a fascinating hour. You are enough. Always. Let no one take that from you. Be clear about your work life, lean into it. Floss. Which meant take care of your body as well as your mind. Love the one you’re with. Love all the time, all you can. Take from everywhere, don’t look for wisdom only in the walled gardens of religion or political ideology or received ideas from family. Get a hobby, develop mastery. Seek and keep a few very good friends. Maintain presence in a community. And much more. Wish I’d videoed it. A good Youtube piece.

These guys Mark, Paul, Bill, Tom were there for me through the agony of Kate’s last days and death. With such grace and love. We’ve been there as others have gone through surgery, covid, joys like the birth of Max and Moira’s entry into Texas politics. We know each other at an intimate level. Rare for a group of men our age. Or, any age. I cherish and love each one of them.

 

At noon I drove into the furnace that is now Denver. A fish and chips place on Broadway. Ruth and Gabe’s favorite place. I hadn’t seen them in a month or so. Ruth’s shift at Rocketflash started at two so they couldn’t come up.

Gabe did not seem enthused about his first day as a freshman in high school. Ruth was every bit the upper classman. Only talk to me if you have normal people with you.

Jon’s waiting for PERA to define his degree of disability. This will determine what work he can do and probably the level of his monthly payments.

We had a good time together. I gave them the photographs I bought for them in Hawai’i. Chatted outside, on a bench, eating fish and chips. A good meal.

When I drove back up to Shadow Mountain, a thunderstorm with hail cooled the temps way down. Another 28 degree temperature spread. So glad.

 

How bout those classified files, eh? I’m the president and I can do what I want when I want to whatever I want. There is a dogged consistency in Trump’s venality. It lacks vision and strategy while depending on taking today’s problem and creating a tornado where there could have been a waterspout. It’s an odd play, but one he uses so often.

What will happen? Who the hell knows. Trump’s post presidency reminds me of a Shriner convention with all those little cars filled with clowns tooting their horns and throwing confetti.

 

 

 

Acting, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Hermitage, Kabbalah, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Going slow

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Tom. The Fort. The trip to Durango. Kep. Susan. Medicated shampoo for Kep. Japanese garbage and recycling rules. Thanks, Mary. Monsoon Rains. Green in the Mountains. The Mountain Streams flowing full, still. Our Aquifers replenished. Tal. The Master Class. Chekov. Kabbalah Experience, a class on creativity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friendship

 

Visit to Dr. Gonzalez. The AM. She apologized for the slow pace of getting my thyroid back into the desired zone of 1-3. Now at 5. Last time 7. The higher the number the less well my thyroid is working. But, she said, we don’t want to make you too speedy so we have to go slow. She explained, too, that the anemia from my proctitis also effects my energy level. Not just about being old, eh?

After seeing her, I went to Big R and Walmart searching for kiddie pools to bathe the Kep. No joy. Too late in the season. Ordered one from Amazon. The shampoo did not come yesterday anyhow. A task for the next few weeks.

That wore me out. The problem with the thyroid and anemia. So back home I picked up, cleaned up, took a nap.

 

Tom arrived around 3:30. He sat down in the red chair and drank a mineral Water while we talked. He noticed I have Breath, a book he read recently. Discursive, but good, he said.

We went to the Fort last night for dinner. Thought it would still be under customered. Wrong. So the two hard of hearing guys sat across the table from each other saying, what? And leaning in. Very hard for me since our waiter, Adam, had a falsetto voice pitched in exactly the frequencies I lost some time ago. Tom couldn’t hear him well because the background made him take his hearing aids out. Geez. Not quite as much fun as I’d anticipated.

We take off this morning for a six hour journey to Durango and the steam train to Silverton tomorrow at 9 am. Breakfast somewhere on the road. Maybe the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey.

 

Took my first acting class last spring with Tal Arnold, Rabbi Jamie’s son. Wanted to follow with another one. I asked Tal which one he would recommend. To my surprise he suggested I take the Master Class which will focus on Chekov. A Master Class after my first class? Guess I’ll have to level up with whoever else is in it. Tal thought the depth of the material would interest me. Bless his heart.

Also signed up, a bit oddly, with Kabbalah Experience for a Friday morning class with Rabbi Jamie on creativity and the Kabbalah. All Arnold instruction for fall and early winter.

The Kabbalah piece is a focus on Binah, the third sefirot, the dominant feminine power in the Tree of Life, often called Understanding. Before it comes Keter, the crown and the link to the ayn sof, the great mystery beyond or behind all (Hashem, the unnameable, the ineffable), and Chochmah, the divine masculine.

Ideas come from Keter but only enter the world through Chochmah, conceptual knowledge and/or wisdom. They are solely in the intellectual realm however until they pass over into Binah. Binah makes ideas into something. Thus, creativity.

These classes should help keep me here in the Mountains even as I set things in motion to leave for the Ocean.

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hawai'i, Health, Shadow Mountain

Atta Van

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Imbolc and the Durango Moon

Thursday gratefuls: CT and Bone Scan. Nuclear medicine. Kep. Susan Taylor. Tom. Durango. William. Paul. Ode. Quest labs. Blue Colorado Sky. Hawai’i. University of Hawai’i. Maona neighborhood. This silly real estate market. The January 6th committee. Real government. Earth spin. Sun seen. Sun gone. Back on Shadow Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends and Family

 

Yesterday. Showed up at 8:30 am. Littleton Adventist. Jon as my driver, 2 ativans in a pill container. A curly headed guy in blue came to “nab me” and took me to the nuclear medicine lab.

In the lab, which contained the control room and the gamma camera in the dark, he had a small table set-up with needles and a blue plastic cylinder with a twist off cap. Is that lead lined? Yes.

His iv insertion was painless. Not the norm at all but appreciated. A little saline. Then he opened the blue cylinder and took out a syringe with a thimble full of clear liquid. That liquid went into the IV. More saline.

I’ll have you back in 3 hours. Let me call CT. They can come get you now. I need to take my ativan. Which I did.

About thirty minutes later Kristina came out in her blues and got me from the waiting room. I emptied my pockets, took off my light jacket, put my hat and fitbit on the table and hopped up on the sliding platform. Shoes on. Better than TSA.

You’ve done this before? CT with contrast? I have. You remember it makes you feel warm? I do. It also makes you feel like you peed your pants. Disconcerting. I’ll tell you when you’re going to feel warm. OK.

The sliding platform began to move. The CT scanner itself had two faces built in to a spot just at eye level, one calm with mouth open, the other with cheeks full and mouth closed. Take a deep breath, hold it. Cheeky face lights up. Breath. Calm face lights up. As the ativan began to kick in, this became more and more amusing.

There. We’re done. Wow. Took about a minute.

I’d been fasting so Kristina, who could see the ativan had done its work, offered to take me to the cafeteria. We walked along together through the corridors of Little Adventist. I could tell she was amused.

I gave her a big smile when she left to go back to her machine.

After a lengthy breakfast on the patio overlooking the Front Range, even medicine comes with a view in Colorado, I returned to the waiting room and played Wordle and the Spelling Bee. Took my second ativan.

Curly headed guy came back at 11:45. The gamma ray camera was now in a lit room. I emptied my pockets again.

The gamma ray camera comes within inches of your face. And stays there for awhile. Even with the ativan and closing my eyes I could feel it, pressing. No escape. Had to do soothing breathing. I had made a mistake that made it worse. The guy asked if I wanted a blanket and I said yes. It was heated. Heat makes my claustrophobia get worse. Ooops.

Still. With the happy pills, closed eyes, and calming breathing techniques I managed to not lose it. This one takes 15-20 minutes.

Relieved to be outta there. I can feel my relief as I write this.

Jon drove me home. I think. Anyhow I ended up back home, happy and tired. Took a nap.

The results were posted almost immediately on the Centura Health patient portal. I didn’t read them until later yesterday. As Kate said, the radiologists favorite plant is the hedge. I couldn’t tell much by reading them. Why we have doctors.

I don’t think there’s anything new there. Which is the best news. Not certain. Because of that hedge. I’ll talk to Kristie on August 15th and get more information after she and Eigner have reviewed the reports.

Acting, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Literature, Mountains, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, US History

Jesus, Take the Wheel

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Summer and the Aloha Moon

art@willworthington

Wednesday gratefuls: Hamish’s wife: I couldn’t believe he wasn’t an experienced actor. (She acts, too) Bless her pea-pickin’ heart. Jon paid his phone bill. Cassy. That Cassy. More Richard Power’s novels in the mail. 4 down, two more available. Looking at Aspens for Diane Kroger’s plant one tree for six years pledge. Sundance Nursery, Evergreen. Cooking Salmon, the James Beard way. Sitka Salmon Shares. Hiking the holy Valley.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cassy.

Tarot: Three of Stones, Creativity

“It is time to create, spark old energy, and show something new.

An artist listens to a deep voice and feels the breath of all things. Courage, freedom, and skill, which allows the artist to allocate energy, must be purified and focused on meaningful and effective achievements.”   tarotx.net

 

Oh. My. Gosh. I’m the fucking President and I want to go to the Capitol. He said as he lunged for the wheel, tie flapping all over the back seat. No. We’re going to the West Wing. Darn Secret Service. This bastard would be in jail right now if the agent hadn’t been so picky about doing his job.

Maybe Carrie Underwood can issue a new release of her heartbreaker about a desperate mother sliding on ice with her newborn in the back. This one? Trump Take the Wheel. It features a desperate President only wanting to be with his peeps (his armed peeps) as they hunt for the traitor Pence through the Capitol corridors.

There could be a stanza about Pence on the gallows, begging for mercy. But Trump Took the Wheel. Anyone who wants to take this song idea and make it real, go right ahead.

 

Had a day yesterday with nothing on it. Hiked the holy Valley. A few of Kate’s remains are still where I spread them. Most are gone downstream, headed for the world ocean. The Wild Roses. Columbines. New Pine Cones coming. Kate’s Creek running full. Still. It had rained not long before I got there and the scent of Pine Trees was everywhere. Rain wet my jeans as I walked through low hanging Brush. Cool, too, though the day would quickly hit 78 in Evergreen.

Drove over to Evergreen to get new brushes for my electric toothbrush. Thought I did. But, no. Wrong ones again. Geez, how hard an it be? Decided to toss out this one, which I don’t like and go back to the less complicated Oral B.

Then down to Sundance Nursery to look at Aspen’s, discuss planting some in my front. Got the info. About as much as I thought. Next spring. Aiming to plant my six trees per Diane Kroger’s idea about working toward a climate solution in which each person on the planet plants one tree a year for the next six years.

Back home I took a long nap. Performing and the attendant late night coupled with the hike wore me out.

Later I cooked a Salmon steak, tator tots, and had some of the cucumber dill salad I made on Monday. My diet has changed. Thanks, Diane, for the nudge. Salad today with the rest of the Salmon on it. I enjoy being in my kitchen.

Almost finished with Plowing in the Dark. Not going to proceed to the next two, Gain and the Gold Bug Variations. Need a palate cleanser. Some non-fiction perhaps, sir?

 

Hamish’s wife said she couldn’t believe I wasn’t an experienced actor. Since she acts quite a bit, I took that as a sincere compliment. Especially since Hamish only relayed it to me after I texted him about his own acting. Maybe Robbie did mean what she said, “You’re a real actor!” Getting positive feedback is good for the soul.

 

Enough. Tomorrow. Why the left always eats itself. Remember. Power first. Then policy.

 

Acting, Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Health, Hermitage, Memories, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Travel

Androgyny. Needs and Desires.

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Summer and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Thursday grateful: Running lines with Alan. The Campfire. That pastrami sandwich. Feeling conflicted. Money. Trips. Axumin scan. Long term care insurance premium. Maybe a new (read expensive) hot water heater. Friends. Family. Travel. A need for rest, time away. How to reconcile. The synagogue. Luke. Rebecca. Jamie. Marilyn and Irv. Kep. So excited in the morning. Food, dad, food!

Sparks of Joy and Awe: It’s a ladle (not a spoon, you dumb ignoramus!) a line from the Odd Couple

Tarot: The Seer, #2 of the major arcana

“With the innate ability to balance emotions and the power of will and source of knowledge, The Seer encourages us to change the ordinary material world. She uses all of The Wildwood’s natural resources skillfully. She nurtures positive changes in people’s minds, expressed through emotions and commitment to life. Her magic is one of the purest and most revered things on earth.”  tarotx.net

 

Androgyny. Quite a ways back Kate paid me a compliment, one I’ve treasured. “You’re the most androgynous person I know, Charlie.” I value the balance of yin and yang, of the feminine and the masculine. In me. I love being a sensitive man who will knock down injustice. I love cooking, raising kids, keeping a nice house. The chainsaw and I were one. Back when I could still hold one. The axe, too. I loved gardening, the labor of it and the nurture of plants. Raising dogs and caring for them when they’re sick. I loved being in relationship with Kate.

The Seer and I are old friends. Her feminine intuition, her link to Mother Earth. I feel them. Honor them. Honor her. She was the one who told me, “You need to be a Dad.” And, I listened. She was the one who told me, “You need to write.” And, I did. She was the one who told me, “Marry Kate. Right now.” I did. I listen to her as often as I can, as closely as possible. She was the one who told me, “Move to Colorado. Be close to Ruth and Gabe as they grow up.” And, we did. I have never regretted hearing her voice.

Drawing this card today reminds me to collect the information I’ve gleaned over the last year and two months since Kate died. To listen to the Seer once again. Hear her advice on what happens next. What I need to do now. Listening.

 

I’ve put myself in a box. One of my own making, one that expresses deep desires but may not conform, right now, to my reality. I really want to go to Durango with Tom. I really want to see the Redwoods with Diane. I really want to extend my reunion trip and visit Sarah and Jerry at Belews Creek. But. In August I have my Axumin scan. Over a thousand bucks. Then in September my long term care insurance comes due. Three and half times that. Plus I may need a new water heater. Maybe more than the two combined.

Money. I have enough. Yes. But not more than enough. I so want to go places, see other people. But. I may have to settle for Hawai’i until I’ve seen my way through these big expenses. Adulting. Bah, Bah. Gonna have to count my pennies again. Stay tuned.

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health

Independent. Mobile. Sharp Mind.

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Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Monday gratefuls: Kate. Always Kate. Mary. Mark. Diane. Hamish. Tom. Bill. Mario. Paul. Alan. Rebecca. Rabbi Jamie. Luke. Leo. Kep. Solar energy when I need it most. Cruises. Simple fun. Health. Aging. Learning lines. View from a Bridge. Odd Couple. Macbeth. Acting. Lessons.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Health

Tarot: King of Stones, The Wolf

“King of Stones asks: What does wealth mean to you? What packs do you run with? Are you comfortable in your natural surroundings? In what ways do you celebrate memories of the dead?”  tarotx.net

 

Fascinated by an AARP/National Geographic survey about aging. In particular about how those of us now past 65 have begun to redefine health. The three key markers of health identified in the survey are: Independence. Mobility. Sharp mind.

I’m intrigued by this. It conforms to my experience. Both mine and Kate’s. Her health (using this definition) really began to decline when she could no longer drive or easily navigate in the house. When she could no longer work in her sewing room, her health had become a problem.

This was long after she went on oxygen full-time. Long after she had been hospitalized several times. Up until that point her mobility allowed her to do the things she loved most, sewing and quilting. Going out to see her friends. Yes, I had to drive her, but she could go, walk in, sit with the Bailey Patchworkers, the Needle Workers.

She maintained her sharp mind up until the end. But she lost independence when she had to depend on me to go to appointments, drive, cook, often help her with showering, with her feeding tube.

Combining the loss of independence and mobility meant a quicker decline in her health, then the crises that ultimately ended in her death.

But note that well before she could no longer get to the sewing room she had lost her ability to eat anything but bland food, was on 24 hour oxygen, had a feeding tube attached, and needed me to drive her places. Yet, she still had functional independence, mobility, and a sharp mind. We were happy. Stressed? Sometimes. Sure. But that’s part of life.

What I really like about this new approach to health is its recognition of how life actually is. I’m not my medical conditions. I’m not cancer guy. I’m not paralyzed diaphragm guy. I’m not diaper guy or suppository guy. Yes, these are medical issues with which I have to deal. But they do not, per se, make me unhealthy.

As long I can go to acting lessons, visit my friends online and in person, workout, read, learn, make my own decisions, hike in the holy Valley, watch movies, see and be with family, I’m healthy. In my case I give myself marks for excellent health. I even said this to Kristen Gonzales, my PCP. I feel like I’m in excellent health even though I have prostate cancer.

Unconsciously I’ve been using these criteria. I’m independent. I’m mobile. I have a sharp mind. Which equals this: I can live my life on own terms.

Do I wish I didn’t have to deal with expensive and often harsh drugs? Sure. Do I wish I didn’t have the sequelae from the prostatectomy and the radiation? Sure. But the reality is that I only think about these things when they present themselves as an issue. And even then only to make sure I’m handling them well.

In a sense this turns the old paradigm on its head. The doctors define our health. No.  We define our health and use medicine and doctors to help us keep it. But only help. As has always been the case, doctors cannot live our lives for us. They can intervene when possible, but even their best efforts cannot make our lives meaningful, fruitful, worth living.

This finally answers the question Steve Miles asked about his dying grandfather, “What constitutes health in a dying person?” That’s all of us, all the time. Until we die.

So. I’m working on those things that keep me independent, mobile, and sharp. In other words, healthy.

 

Anoka County, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Park County, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, The West, Weather +Climate

Natural Healing

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Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Friday gratefuls: My journey over a lifetime. Kate. Always. That trail. With the Creek, the Mountain Stream. The fallen Trees. The tall Pines. The Wild Strawberries. The Rocks. The steep valley walls. Wild Rose. Primrose. Those yellow Flowers I can’t identify. A place of great sanctity. A holy place. A sanctuary. Friends. Near and far.

Saturday gratefuls: Stephanie. That trail again. Happy Camper. Aspen Perks breakfast. Salad. Apples. Peanut Butter. The Continental Divide. Mt. Rosalie. Mt. Evans. Black Mountain. Staunton State Park. Richard Power’s Orfeo. Learning lines. Mini-splits. Jon. Money.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That trail.

Tarot: Seven of Stones, Healing. And, Again.

Key words: “Give our minds a break, Calmness, Meditation, Stillness, Healing, Reevaluation, Patience, Perseverance, State of stability, Attentive care, Take time to relax and unwind, Connection to the source energy.”  tarotx.net

 

Forgot to finish this yesterday. A busy day. Over to Aspen Perks for breakfast: Salmon Eggs benedict. Reading Orfeo. After a morning with what people especially beyond Richmond Hill (think Pine, Bailey) call the camper and RV races. Or, the RV assholes. Or, those bastards. Folks from down the hill invading, driving too fast. Often with trailers in tow. Passing on curves. Generally being jerks. After Richmond Hill 285 goes from a four lane divided highway to a two lane, no dividers. That’s when things get clogged.

At 9 am I was still a bit ahead of the bulk of it. But I had a guy towing a trailer behind me, a BIG RV ahead of me for much of the way. Irritated locals often try to pass early. Not waiting for the passing lanes that come after the road to Staunton State Park. It’s a recipe for accidents. And, they happen. And, they kill people.

 

I was on my way to the Happy Camper for my every two months or so cannabis run. 25% off! for the whole month. Still digesting a Stanford study that says thc can increase inflammation in the veins and arteries around the heart. Gonna consider genistein to counteract this effect. Sleep is critical and my thc use has made 8 hours every night possible. Gonna contact my docs to see about safety and dosing.

 

As my avanah (humility) practice for the month, I’m using a focus phrase: ichi-go, ichi-e. Every moment is once in a lifetime, unique, precious. Trying to use it every time I encounter a living entity: Kep, Myself, Rocks, Lodgepoles, Elk, Friends, Waitress, other Diners, Birds, the Sun, Black Mountain. All the time. Sort of like the Jesus Prayer. Trying to make it subliminal, yet also present as I move around through my day.

In this way I can learn to take up the right amount of space in my life. Not too much, not too little. Not minimizing my gifts, not over emphasizing them. Making sure I remember to bring my whole self to each precious moment. Since it will not be repeated, it’s the only chance I have.

 

I have now hiked what I’ve begun to think of as my trail, at least when I’m on it, three times since Gabe and I were on it last Saturday. I may go again this morning. Yesterday after my time with Stephanie, Dr. Gonzales’ PA and a sweet lady, I hiked it with the ichi-go, ichi-e focus phrase.

I saw that patch of Wild Strawberry blooms and thought of Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same name. A favorite. The Mountain Rose Bushes are in full Flower, too, five white Petals brightening the trail. They will give way to Rose Hips as the Wild Strawberry Blooms will to Strawberries.

The little Stream, I don’t know its name, flows a bit less vigorously as the Snow melt and Rains subside. Still it sings, dancing over Rocks, falling down the Mountainside, continuing its creation of this holy Valley.

Oddly, as I thought about this trail last night, I realized I’ve done just this, exercised outside in spots that became favorites for a very long time. I used to hike the trail along the Mississippi down by the Ford Avenue Bridge. Then I moved on to the Crosby Nature Farm, also along the Mississippi. When I worked for the Presbytery, I often exercised or walked at the Eloise Butler Garden and Wildlife Sanctuary. 

In Andover I went to the Rum River Regional Park and snowshoed a trail through Woods behind the new library in the Winter, spent other times at Boot Lake SNA. Now I’m on my trail just off Brook Forest Road. Up here though the options are much more abundant. I’ve also been on Upper Maxwell Falls, The Geneva Creek trail outside of Grant, and plan to hit the Mt. Rosalie Trail soon.

My equivalent of the Celtic Christian practice of peregrinatio. The Skunk Cabbages are probably blooming right now at Eloise Butler. I miss seeing them and the bright yellow of the Marsh Marigolds. The power of the mighty Mississippi, too. Though a Mountain Valley is equal to them in its own way. Love the one you’re with. Eh?