Category Archives: Health

Gracie and the Momma Elk

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Tuesday gratefuls: Acting lessons. Kep. No puppy. Proctitis. Radiation. The gift that keeps on giving. Prostate Cancer. Medical care. Dr. Gonzales. Kristie. A little low. Possibility of a recession. Blue Sky. Rain yesterday. Last day of Astrology class today. Disorientation. Sadness. A bit. Will to live. Orfeo by Richard Powers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Evergreen Animal Protection League

Tarot: Queen of Stones, the Bear

“You are an inspiration, a mentor, and a positive role model for those around you. Share what you have and know that the Universe will send more.

…you are magnetic and will attract the right people and opportunity will come to you…set your intention to be for the Highest Good. Others will be drawn to your inner authenticity, abilities, and strength. There is sensuality at play here too. You are most attractive when you are just being you. Know this and show it…fully. Unleash the need to be anything else but exactly who you are.” tarotx.net

 

Well. Well. Well. Three times in a row. After three shuffles of the deck each time and three cuts. Guess the Wildwood deck has a message for me. Be a mother Bear. Be a mother Bear. Be a mother Bear. OK. OK. I’ll be a mother Bear. Third time is a Bear, too. If she shows up tomorrow, I’m going to invest in a set of claws.

Not really sure what to make of this. In the year since I learned about the Tarot I may have had the same card come up twice though I’d have to check. I know I’ve never had one come up three times in a row.

 

Feeling a little low today. Might be anemia. Proctitis, an unpleasant sequelae of 35 sessions of futile radiation, has flared. Blood loss. Taking steps. Not a serious issue, but not one to take lightly either. Feels like my medical stuff has become more and more complicated. Getting treatments for the secondary effects of my treatments. Geez.

Trusting my doctors, Kate. You were right. It relieves anxiety to put my trust in those trained to care for me. And, I will, assuming I feel they do care for me. Both as a person and a patient. Kristie and Kristen? For sure. As usual just laying this down on the page here, saying it out loud, calms me.

Started my new doubled dose of thyroid hormone replacement. Today. That should give me a boost of energy when it kicks in. Something I could use.

 

Felt off at acting lessons last night. Hard to focus. Seemed everyone had a nadir, too. Jill and Alan weren’t there. The Rock of Ages rehearsal in the other Evergreen Players space kept coming through the wall. Cold rain. Sort of a blah.

I give a ride to Deb to acting class. She and Robbie have a dog, Gracie. I mentioned her before. Gracie is thirteen and a very sweet dog. I always talk to her when I pick up Deb.

Robbie’s out of town and Gracie is in Bergen Bark Inn. A Cow Elk and her newborn took up residence in Robbie’s yard. The Cow charges cars and people. And, Gracie. It scared Gracie so much that she refuses to go outside while the Cow is there. Hence, Bergen Bark Inn. I saw the Elk last night when I picked up Deb. She did not charge my car.

Living in the Mountains requires adjustments. Our wild neighbors live here, too. Most of us try to interfere with them as little as possible. Aside from the roads, houses, lights, and noise we’ve already brought into their home.

So the Cow Elk stays and the dog goes to the kennel for a while. Reasonable choice up here.

 

In other doggy news. My application for Kahlua was denied. They did not agree with my answer about how to treat growling/biting behavior. No, no bad dog. Step on front feet. First lightly, then harder if necessary. They said, rightly I think, that they never support hurting an animal. I was too hasty in filling out the form, didn’t give a thought to how that answer might be read. In fact that was the cure to a Wolfhound jumping up on you. Never had to do it more than twice. Still. I take their point.

Maybe I’m meant to wait. Kep’s leg stopped bothering him. Grateful for that. Also, he’s back in the bed at night, even for naps. He may be moving through his grieving. I get it.

 

This mother Bear is hungry. My stomach is growling. Gonna get breakfast.

 

Oooh, a puppy!

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth. For whom my heart aches. Gabe. For whom my heart sings. Jon. For whom my heart waits. Rebecca. A kindness. Alan. A fullness of friendship. Seeking the whole lev-the heart mind. Wholeness. Kep, my companion. The Denver Mtn. Parks Trail with Gabe. Covid. Grief. Kate, always Kate. Shavout.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth.

Tarot: Queen of Stones, Bear

 

“Grief is a heart-wrenchingly painful problem for the brain to solve… to live in the world with the absence of someone… ingrained in your understanding of the world… For the brain, [they are] simultaneously gone and also everlasting, and you are walking through two worlds at the same time.” from the Grieving Brain by Francis O’Connor. Marginalia 

This quote explained grief to me. In a way nothing else has. Since the experience is still fresh, I thought I’d pass it along. Grief lasts forever, grieving does not, O’Connor says. My experience, too. Grieving is over for me. At least in the main. But grief? No. Still sad and wistful. Still missing Kate. Still walking through two worlds. A beautiful phrase.

 

Had breakfast with Rebecca Martin yesterday at Parkside. Rebecca is a fellow kabbalah and mussar student. She’s 80, but very vital. Each year  she makes a months long journey to a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery near Dharamshala in northern India.

She started out teaching English there but has become a part of the community. Though she still teaches English. She had to take a break during Covid and isn’t sure when she’s going back. Have to admire that chutzpah. The plane ride alone. Yeah?

A good conversation.

While there, I met a Leonberger/Bernese Mountain Dog mix. A really big dog. Odin. Ten months old, still very much the puppy but almost Wolfhound height and weighing in at 140 pounds. Not mature. He was so funny and loving. Wagged his whole body. Made me want one.

 

Realized when Ruth and Jon came up later that my life has shifted again. I’m the Grandpa with a Mountain home and love that needs nothing in return. Which is not to say I don’t appreciate being loved. I do.

But they feel comfortable here because I’m comfortable here and with them. And with their individual dramas. Most of the time. A role shift from Jon’s mom’s husband and sorta grandpa to a key life figure for all three of them. Not really grandpa, not really father, just a guy who loves them and is willing to hang in there with them.

I’ve struggled with this, but have chosen to lean into it, make it what I’m here for until the kids are through high school. Doesn’t mean I can’t travel, be other places, but I’m staying here for now. Probably as long as I’m able.

 

Dogs have closed minds. As do other humans. We can’t see inside and know what’s going on. It occurred to me a week or so ago that Kep may not have gotten up on the bed with me because it reminded him of Rigel. May have smelled like her, too. The last few nights he’s gotten up on the bed and stayed through morning. I’ve asked him to, and, yes, I believe he understands. It feels like he’s decided to push past his grieving to comfort me. Feels like a treasure.

I’ve also decided to get a puppy. Gonna do it. Kep will bond with the puppy over time, not be mean to it. A female. And, I don’t care what the breed is. Just filled out an application for Kahlua, a German Shepherd mix. We’ll see out what happens. Oooh, a puppy!

 

 

 

In the stranger we discover humanity

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Friday gratefuls: Yesterday’s zero on posting. Hike on the Denver Mountain Parks Trail. Mussar and sadness around gun violence. Gabe here. Jon calmer. Ruth in the hospital again. Snow all gone. 7.5 inches. Wow. Bewilderment, Richard Power’s latest. Hawai’i. Money. Travel. Cumulus Clouds white over Black Mountain. Sol. Life-Bringer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe

Tarot: Page of Vessels, Otter

“As a person, Page of Vessels represents someone with an open and youthful approach to life. They are imaginative and playful characters. Otters may be mischievous, but their hearts are not malicious. Expect a surprise when Otter shows up to say hello!”

 

The page of Vessels, the otter, reminds me to play, use my imagination for fun, enjoyment. Get some more mischief in my life. More surprise. More oneg, pleasure. More simcha, joy. Let my hair, what there is of it, down. Shake it all about.

June 1

Like most late season Snows, this one on June 1!, mostly gone yesterday. The rest will disappear today. Already 55 at 9am. All Moisture is good Moisture. Up here. Though. The Boundary Waters and Rainy Lake? Not so much. Water is not always where its needed. Watch for the Water wars to ratchet up here in the West.

 

We had a powerful conversation at mussar yesterday about Uvalde and gun violence. Even our most conservative member, a Trump gal, was agin’ it. When will we ever learn?

“When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the stranger. 34 The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the stranger as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.” Leviticus 19:33-34

The mussar text from yesterday quoted this verse and a comment on it by a German-Jewish philosopher, Herman Cohen. Loving God. Got it. Love your neighbor. Got it. A member of the tribe. Someone like you. Not stranger. Love a stranger? In this verse Cohen says we discover humanity and God’s disposition toward our species. Love is not merely tribal, but universal.

A strong rebuke to the gun worshipers who say, “Hate the stranger in your midst. And, if possible, shoot them.”

 

Gabe is up here for a couple of days. I’m recruiting him to help learn lines. Also, to find that annoying beep. He tried to find it but like me, could not. Jon? Nope. Gabe loves Kep and wants to see him, work on jigsaw puzzles, watch TV, hunt for deer antlers.

We’re going to a presentation on Israel at the synagogue this evening. I like getting the kids over to the synagogue as often as possible. Being Jewish is important to them, but that part of them is not getting fed right now.

Ruth comes home tomorrow. Jon and she will come up here for a family meal after she gets released.

 

There’s a Denver Mountain Parks Trail on the way home from Evergreen, maybe 3/4’s of a mile from 73. I talked about it last week. I’ve taken to hiking it after mussar. One of my two trail hikes during the week. After our conversation about loving neighbors and strangers we talked about saying hello to strangers and acquaintances alike when we’re out and about. Having just finished Overstory I suggested we include Trees and Flowers, Rocks and Streams.

Along I went. Hello. To the thick Ponderosa. Hello to the Bluebells peeking from the Grass. Hello to the great slab of Granite covered with Moss and Lodgepole Roots. Hello to the Stream running happily. Singing to me as I hiked. Hello to the Wild Strawberry. To the thorny wild Berry Canes. Hello to the tall Pine climbing up straight as a mast. Hello to the Rocky Stream Bed that gives the Water a crashing, foaming moment at the end of the trail. Hello to the small Pond and the Waterstrider on the Pond.

This was more than a casual exercise. It made me feel I was among friends, no longer strangers these Plants. These Rocks. This Water. It might feel silly at first. That’s ok. Silly is good. Otter already told us so. You could give it a try.

 

Beeping.

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Acting. Tal. Marilyn. Alan in his Rockie’s hat and shirt. 70. Deb. Gretchen. Hamish. Jill. Terence. Kep, who finally came back up on the bed last night. Herme. Overstory. Sanford Meisner. Connie Zweig. Richard Bresnahan. Kate, always Kate. Lana Harris. The fat waddly Animal that scurried off the road last night and up the Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Playwrights

Tarot: King of Bows, the Adder

“Adder asks us to step into our own power and to face our challenges (as individuals as well as groups and nations) with maturity and strength. We can choose to heal instead of poison. We can learn to exercise our authority without striking out in fear.” tarotx.net

 

Even though I’ve time shifted to a 10 pm bed time, the morning after acting class is still brutal. Up at 8:15 this morning. Practically the afternoon for my old schedule. Got home last night at 9:30 after dropping Deb off. Bed at 10:40.

A good but long and difficult workout in the morning, too. Puts the body through its paces. Add that to three hours of sitting on metal folding chairs at the Evergreen Players… Oh, my.

Worth it though. Gonna continue with acting classes. I know how to think about complex, abstruse matters. Probably past time for me to start writing about them, getting my truth out there.

Working with my emotions, performing, following a new art form, being part of it. All need burnishing. Time. Also. New people.

Next to last Astrology class. Upper Maxwell Falls right after because snow on its way. Yep. Right now it’s snowing puppies and kittens. All moisture good. About 4:30 pm.

 

OK. Dominating my life right now. A beeping sound. It’s on my level. I’ve gone around the room four times stopping, waiting. Dividing the walls in half. So eight stops. One sided hearing makes this a maddening enterprise. Somewhere. Somewhere. Not the usual suspects. Nothing’s blinking. Living alone with this is a real nuisance. It’s not an alarm signal from a CO2 alarm or a smoke alarm. It’s not my oxygen  concentrator. Grrrr. Not sure what to do.

Gonna ignore it right now and hope it goes away. Not an adult solution, but the only one I come up with right now. Chirp chirp chirp. Aarggh.

Ok. Plot thickens. I take off my hearing aid and I can’t hear it. I know what you’re thinking, but no, I can still hear without my hearing aid. I don’t think it’s the hearing aid, rather I think it’s picking up a bluetooth signal from something else. But what? Tough when you have sensory assistance to know how you know.

Could get all philosophical here, but I won’t.

Remembering. Mililtary Veterans and Gun Violence Victims

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willwordsworth

Monday gratefuls: Alan, turning 70. Veggie Burgers.  Kippas. The Wild Animal Sanctuary. South Koreans rescuing Moon Bears. Kep’s wooooah. Felix, wanting to be appreciated. Oscar, oblivious. Deb. Robbie. Tal. Acting lessons. Kura: The Prophetic Messenger. Eco-Mutualism. Adopting a grizzly. The Land Institute. Aldo Leopold. Ira Progoff. Life review.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Wild Animal Sanctuary.

Tarot: Page of Stones, The Lynx

key words-study and scholarship, school, apprenticeship, starting out, reflection, meditation, observing other people

 

 

Brett Sayles

Just had a thought. How about making Memorial Day celebrations include all the people who’ve given their lives to gun violence? Veterans of all the violence in which our country plays a role. I actually think this could be a thing. How could we make this happen?

 

Buddy and acting partner Alan turns 70 today. We’re almost off book with our scene from the Odd Couple. Got a long ways yesterday over veggie burgers at his place overlooking the Continental Divide. He did two turns as the Burgemeister in a ballet put on by the Colorado Ballet Academy on Saturday.

 

Jon seems to have turned a corner for now. Makes me happy. Gabe’s coming up for a couple of days at the end of the week. Ruth’s struggling again.

 

Kura: The Prophetic Messenger

Still reading Overstory, almost done. Also the wonderful book Ode gifted to me, Kura: The Prophetic Messenger. This book details the conceptual and handwork by craftspersons and artists to create this sculpture. This article gives a precis of the project.

Bresnahan is a prophetic messenger himself. This work combines three distinct cultures: Japanese, Benedictine, and First Nation. The latter two reflect the uses of the land on which the sculpture sits. The first represents Bresnahan’s roots in a four apprenticeship in Japanese style pottery making and thought.

A kura was a storage building for precious items especially in the Edo period, but got its shape and function from structures used to save the rice harvest in ancient Japan. The Benedictines built St. John’s Monastery and college on land previously used by First Nation’s people.

Inside the Kura Bresnahan placed seed jars containing seeds of the Three Sisters: beans, squash, corns. He also had a scroll created of the Rule of St. Benedict. By hand and illustrated. All of these reside in clay pots created and fired by the St. John’s Pottery. Once placed in the metal Kura, dried wild rice hulls went in as insulation and protection.

The Prophetic Messenger is a symbolic horse Bresnahan uses on much of his work. “The carving of the Prophetic Messenger in my clay works is a reminder that asks me, Are you on the right path? I carve it in different clay forms and each time it reminds me of my own journey to all of this. Are you abusing the land? or materials? Are you abusing the community? It reminds me to work in a way that plans for generations into the future.”  p.17, Kura: The Prophetic Messenger.

 

 

 

Out of my head

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Monday gratefuls: My Ancient Brothers. There when I need them. Mindfulness. Mindemptiness. Mindoutofthewayness. Struggling with family. Diane. The Redwoods. Overstory. Tired of struggling with family. Snow melting. Rain and Snow today and tomorrow. Go precipitation! Blood draw for thyroid hormone levels. Evergreen. Eco-kashrut. CBE. Acting. Waving good-bye to Kabbalah for now.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe

Tarot: pathway spread  eight of vessels, rebirth. nine of stones, tradition. four of bows, celebration.

 

Dropped out of my kabbalah class. Keeping me in my head, as I said. Want away from that right now. Acting class pushes me out of my head, even out of my ego. What I need. Keeping the Astrology class because, well, I really don’t know why. Completist I guess. This is the third and last one for the year.

 

Blood draw this morning for my tsh levels. Will determine if Kristi needs to up my dose. I hope so because I want my energy level back to normal. It’s much better, but I still hit a drag in the early to late afternoon. Kristi’s also ordered a lipid panel. We’re trying for low, low cholesterol numbers. Vascular disease.

Taking care of myself. Sometimes it seems like a full time job. It was for Kate. However. I feel good. Cancer managed for now. Better energy. A fine new doctor. Breathing issues not progressive. Manageable.

Living in the Mountains has gotten me out on the trails. Looking forward to continuing and even increasing that. Getting 3-5 hours of exercise in each week. That’s enough for me. More would be better, but I’m not interested in giving it that much time.

 

A little low this morning. Struggles with family. So tired of it. My tarot spread this morning was about it. Won’t call this stuff out here, but I’m weary of revisiting old issues and saddened by a new one.

Had me missing Kate, somebody who loves me. Right here. With me. That’s a response to the weariness I know. A real longing, however.

Gonna have breakfast at the Bread Lounge after my blood draw. Cheer myself up.

 

Overstory is a great read. Trees, green things. Living together in community. Communicating, healing each other, feeding each other. Trees. Dogs. That is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know. Amen.

 

Mediterranean diet working. Slow adoption, but it’s happening. Considering becoming a pescatarian. Not for ethical reasons, or at least not only for ethical reasons. I want to simplify my food choices. Cutting out chicken and red meat would help. Also, that cholesterol thing.

Quite a bit of simplifying going on in my life right now. Feels right.

 

 

 

 

 

Snow and, well, more Snow

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Snow. Fire repressing Snow! Well over a foot so far. Still Snowing. Generator kicked on. Then off. Then on. Bear was right. It was a glitch last time. Lodgepoles unloading their branches. A Snowplosion! Kep wading through the Snow. Eating it. All this on May 21st. Now the generator is off again. Electricity back full house. And off. Generator back on. Mountain living.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

 

Did not go upstairs. Writing in the house. That fall three weeks ago has made me cautious. Even though I have my magic button to summon help. Prefer not to have to. Besides, this is a freaky deaky Storm. Not many like this since I’ve lived up here. Still Snowing.

Kep jumps in the Snow, plows his way back to the far fence. Pokes around. Pees. Comes back to the door. A bit confused. Not going upstairs, Dad? Those Akita prefecture Mountain genes kick in during these big Snows.

Now we’re both on my level, I’m writing.

 

And, oops. I have to go upstairs for a minute. My meds are up there. This gets complicated. The levothyroxine has made me move my morning meds upstairs because of the one-hour delay after I take it. Gonna get Snow in my boots.

Lights flickering. Generator has gone on and off at least four times in the past thirty minutes. I have the boiler heat going since the mini-splits are not on the generator panel. This gets complicated, too.

I’ll be back in a moment. Got to carefully slog up stairs. Chemo is in those meds. Geez.

 

Upstairs. Realized the mini-split in the loft is on the garage panel. That means the generator does feed it. Warm loft. Warm loft good. Chemo taken. That feels better. Not afraid of dying. But. Not eager for it either. Liking this Herme life.

I’ll stay up here and finish this post. Then downstairs for Word and Deed. A Rabbi Jamie riff on the parsha of the week, Ben-Har. Leviticus 25:1-26:2. Interesting parsha since it introduces shemitah, a sabbath for the land every 7 years and a sabbath for ownership of the land and slaves every 49 years, the Jubilee year. And links them to the weekly sabbath. It so happens that September 7, 2021 to September 25th, 2022 is a shemitah year.

An observant Jewish farmer will let his crops go for the year. He may eat from whatever grows on its own, but he cannot sell it or trade it. Also, anyone can come and share his crop during the shemitah year. Here’s a group that advances this idea, Hazon.

 

Yesterday I read. More Connie Zweig, The Inner Work of Aging, The Hidden Order of Intimacy by Avivah Zomberg, and Overstory by Richard Powers. This last one some of you have read. I’m finding it a quick and great read. About trees and the stories they witness.

I also worked out. Treadmill. Boy, were my legs complaining. Those two days on the trails were good, but they used my legs muscles in different ways. A lot more juking and jiving to retain balance, up and down inclines. Really good workout, but hoo. Glad I have a bye on the weekend. Legs need the rest.

 

Reading more and more as Herme begins to find his sea legs in this new voyage. From here to eternity. Hah. Look for the occasional Herme update about life and aging and truth from his perspective.

Also did my first sumi-e piece in over a year. Felt good. May do more today. Getting up here wasn’t hard. Just messy. We’ll see about going down. Right now.

 

 

 

 

Introducing Herme

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marmosets and Raccoons

Tarot: #8, The Stag

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

A Change in the Mind

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A script

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

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

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

 

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

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

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

Mortality behind me. Mortality ahead of me.

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

This is not that kind of fight

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: CBD. THC. Heart. Inflammation. Life itself. In all its glory and misery. Whacked back. Still ouchy. Rain. Two falling Charlie’s. Our fragile government. Acting class. Falling out of like with Astrology. And Sefer Yetzirah. Weary of stuff that doesn’t feed more than my intellect. Melancholy. No. Melancholy lite.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain in the Mountain West.

 

Feeling low. Melancholy lite. Don’t like it. Mostly related to the pain lingering from my Monday fall. Not intense, but reminding me every time I get up from sitting. Dingbat. Don’t wear tennis shoes in the snow. Will pass.

More into searching for and finding joy. Letting go of some now longstanding quests that have become merely intellectual exercises for me: Sefer Yetzirah and Astrology. I’ll finish these classes then I’m focusing on Tarot, on Acting class, on writing. Other reading, thinking that has impact on my heart as well as my head. Some more jazz.

 

In a fog. No, not my mind. My house. At 8,800 feet it happens sometimes. The cloud layer the dewpoint and the temperature converge on top of Shadow Mountain. This time it’s also raining and snerting. An odd mix. Not a mood lifter, but in my instance, a mood intensifier. Still. Moisture good. Drought bad.

 

How bout that Supreme Court? Ideological decisions, rank ideological decisions like overturning established law because they can. That will weaken the Supremes, make their legitimacy as a high court doubtful at best. And legitimacy is what makes any court what it is. The final arbiter of cultural clashes. A minority will feel heard, that’s true. Not the purpose of the Supreme Court.

And. That’s not good for our democracy. We need our institutions to manifest the authority granted them by our constitution. Not tilt themselves against it.

This may, just may because Democrats are fickle creatures, upend the midterms. An organizing tool that binds women, race, and economic condition, even religious conviction together against the Republican, Trump-led, anti-democracy party. The party of autocrats. That’s what I’d use as my slogan if I were the Democratic strategists.

The old free-market, pro-business blueblood, National Review at the extreme GOP is gone now. It’s become the party of grievance, of sweeping away America as I understand it with racist tropes, vote nullifying, voter nullifying, white supremacist, evangelical “piety”, and an astonishing new way saying know nothing.

This is no longer a culture war in the metaphorical sense, but in the naked grab for power, use whatever tools work, back alley street fight way. Democrats come ill-equipped for it. We still believe, even if weakly, in the public square, of debate among reasonable people. Taking the normal tensions of public life and using elections, governing bodies to sort them out.

This. Is. Not. That. Kind. Of. Fight.

(quick weather sidebar. Not only foggy. No. It’s a foggy snow. Strange weather. But. Still. Moisture.)

A liberal democracy has an exposed belly to this kind of attack. Turning its own strengths into weaknesses. Look at Putin, Orban, Egypt, Turkey. Almost France. Democracy’s with no democracy, rather autocracy with a democratic facade. Even Hong Kong. A future Taiwan. If we join them. Melancholy will become a world state of mind.

The Roe v. Wade leak could, at least for a moment, make us find a path that unites the very disparate parts of the Democratic coalition. This would strike at the heart of poor communities, especially poor communities of color. And, women, all women. Liberal religionists, too. Yes, there are such folks though their numbers and power have faded away, become almost ghostlike.

If this uniting does happen, we need to seize the moment. Find the political super glue to hold that coalition up as the shining beacon it still can be. Damn it, we are racists who want to end racism, not further it. Sexists who want women to enjoy full equality and esteem. Greedy fucks who want money to be distributed among the have nots so children do not die. So their parents might have a chance. Internationalists, yes, but internationalists who are pro-trade and pro-immigration.

We’re not that much different from the populist, fascist right in our deeply entrenched sin, but we know what sin is and want to repent. Tangibly, concretely. In public. Not sin more.

That’s our weird strength. And we must own it.