Category Archives: Great Wheel

Great Wheel, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Reimaging revelation, Shadow Mountain

A Druid

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Imbolc and the Moon of Tides

Monday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Tomato seeds. Gladiolus bulbs. Iris rhizomes. Lily bulbs. Artemis. Spring. Shadow, gnawer of toys.

Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gumbo

 

Kavannah: Groundedness. Yesod.    Yesod is about establishing oneself in reality, refusing to rely on comfortable illusions.

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse. A strong connection to mother earth. Yesod. Year of the fire horse. Dramatic, even revolutionary change.

 

One brief shining: Ordered from Seed Savers Exchange–Moonglow, large red cherry, and Cherokee purple heirloom tomato seeds. From Eden Brother’s Nursery–Dark purple reblooming Iris bulbs, Gladiolus, and Star Gazer Lilies. Grounded. My gardening Yesod. Co-creation.

 

Paul sent me an article: Paganism Popularity Grows in Maine. I read it with my usual combination of gratitude and unease.

Grateful for the spread of Earth-centered affection. Reverence for Mother. God (pardon me) knows we need it. Many follow the Great Wheel, as I do. Organizing rituals. Seeing the sacred in a seedling, a garden plot, the changing of the seasons.

My unease comes from paganism’s splintered and often invented roots. Rabbi Rami Shapiro answers the question: Who is Jew? Anyone who says they are a Jew is a Jew. Rattling many rabbinic cages. His point? There is no one, no text that defines who is a Jew. Q.E.D.

The same applies to paganism. Anyone can claim to be a pagan. My unease increases when Asatru and other pagan gatherings claim Northern European supremacy. Read: White.

Long ago. Perhaps 1988, I had a spiritual director, Rev. John Ackerman. A Presbyterian clergy. As I was then. Starting to write novels, I’d gone deep into what I then thought was my Celtic ancestry.

Sitting in his office in the staid Westminster church, I told John transcendence and the usual notions of God felt patriarchal. “Charlie,” he said, “You’re a druid!”

That transformed my self-understanding. I left the ministry two years later.

OK. Maybe I’m being too much the scholar, too much the adherent to religions with provable ancient roots. Why should it matter where a faith comes from?

Consider Jim Jones and his Kool Aid eucharist of death. Moonies. Or this: “‘President Trump has been anointed by Jesus to light the signal fire in Iran to cause Armageddon and mark his return to Earth.’”

Pagan and heathen. Rural folk. Those who held on to the old ways. True of the Celts when the Roman Catholic Church built cathedrals over Celtic holy wells.

I need no text to find the sacred. It’s right there: In the lodgepole growing toward the sun. In a tomato seed, bearer of life. In photosynthesis.

I’m too harsh. Let a thousand pagan faiths bloom. Yet. Critique and reject. Paganism as a cover for bigotry and violence.

Artemis will be my temple.

In her I will plant tomatoes, garlic, beets, iris, glads, and lilies.

With the vegetables I will practice the only true transubstantiation: eating.

 

Great Wheel, Minnesota, Politics, Seed Keepers

A Winter People

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Imbolc and the Moon of Deep Friendship

Renee Good and Alex Pretti, say their names

Sunday gratefuls: Dr. Josy coming to change Shadow’s bandage. Shadow, enconed. Cool weather. Protein. Exercise. Roxann and Tom, recovering. The resistance in Minnesota. In Minneapolis. A gentle, angry people. Political pressure. Finally, Democratic pushback. Minneapolis nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. A light to the nation and the nations.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Courts of law

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” ― Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah: Tikkun  Olam. Repairing the world.

  • Lurianic Kabbalah: A 16th-century mystical belief that the world was created by divine vessels that shattered, scattering “sparks” of divine light. Humans perform tikkun by gathering these sparks through prayer and mitzvot.
  • Modern Social Justice: Since the 1950s, the term has become a shorthand for social action and progressive activism, such as environmentalism and human rights. 

Tarot: Queen of Arrows, The Swan

  • Attributes: She embodies honesty, logic, and a sharp wit. Like the traditional Queen of Swords, she is highly capable and values direct communication.
  • The Swan Element: The swan’s presence signals a need to swim toward clearer waters after a period of sorrow or separation.

One brief shining: Can you feel the sorrow, the sore hearts, the sadness rising in Americans all over this land; the Swan that is  our collective weariness with the harsh, coarse hand of a government devoid of love, compassion, and justice swims in her graceful desolation toward states united against rule by whim and fear, standing together like the North Star, blazing in the cold.

Minnesota: “Don’t attack a winter people in the winter.” A Minneapolis resident quoted yesterday. Going in layers to meet the day. A layer first, close to the skin of warm compassion.  A second layer over that one of chesed, loving kindness expressed in action. A third layer of indignation, a layer protective against the winds of oppression, and finally, a layer of gentle fierce anger, an anger that pleads for, no, demands justice.

Don’t forget a warm hat and boots. Gloves, too, my winter people.

The Great Wheel: Today, February 1st, marks the beginning of Imbolc, a Celtic cross quarter holiday that lies midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. A traditional understanding of Imbolc says it means, “in the belly.” Short hand for quickened Ewes beginning to freshen, that is, lactate.

After a long fallow time living off the stores of last year’s growing season, the freshening of the Ewes promised milk, cheese, and the birth of new Lambs, pure white Lambs. Family and village wealth increases and the Lambs evidence the imminent coming of a new growing season. Cold weather crops might go in the ground just after Imbolc, providing fresh greens for the table.

Imbolc also celebrates the Celtic triple goddess, Brigid. She is the goddess of the hearth, inspiration, and the smithy. She warms the home, inspires bards and poets, and heats the blacksmith’s fire. Fire is her element and her holiday reminds us each year that Great Sol has begun to warm Mother Earth with new intensity.

This Imbolc I’m celebrating the fire in the belly of Minneapolis citizens. Their actions can birth a Spring of justice and compassion if we can keep the pressure on, turn up the heat.

 

Asia, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Health, Plants, Weather +Climate

Jumping Jack Frost

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Mabon and the Samain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Jamaica. Cuba. Puerto Rico. Grenada. A warm Caribbean. Melissa. The awesome power of Mother Earth. Rocky Mountain high. Far inland. Taking Joseph to Breckenridge during Katrina. Red Tie Guy in Korea. Their golden tributes. Xi Jinping. China. Vietnam. Malaysia. Singapore. Japan. Philippines. Cambodia. Thailand. Laos. Burma. Australia. New Guinea. Indonesia.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Asia

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: The controller on my electric blanket blinked F, F, F, meaning failure as the temperature through my open window fell to 17 degrees, chilling me beyond comfort, requiring lights, finding another blanket, though it may be a sign since my soon to arrive Butrans patch does not play well with electric blankets.

 

My medical October continues (and will spill over into early November): Maddie came yesterday, my palliative care nurse. So did Rachel, my brand new, Optum Health Care supplied social worker. I’m a revenue capture center all by myself.

Rachel introduced herself, a young woman like Maddie, short blond hair, sharp but not unpleasant features. I can help with transport, support of various kinds. After talking about wills (done), medical power of attorney (done), her final question showed where I am in life’s journey. How do you feel about hospice?

Sure, when the time comes, I think it makes sense. Oh. Here I am discussing end of life care. For me. Nothing soon, I hope. Still enjoying my path.

We then discussed my by now many ailments. The back. The hip. Cancer and the jumped up met on my T4 vertebrae. Finally, my floppy neck and the lack of good options. A unicorn, me.

Maddie helpfully followed up with Swedish central scheduling and my MRI got scheduled for November 5th. With that now in place I imagine Dr. Carter, a radiation oncologist whom I see Friday, will schedule radiation to kill that energized met. Back to Bupathi on the 17th of November. So. Much. Fun.

 

Mother Earth: On Sunday my Tomato plants stood tall, Cherry and Roma Tomatoes ripening, yellow spiky flowers promising more. On Tuesday morning it was over. A hard frost and the greenhouse temps fell into the high 20’s. When I walked in there yesterday morning, a desolate scene. Plants slumped over. Tomatoes on the Vine frozen through. Go now, the growing season has ended.

Even though I was sad, I felt lucky to have had as long and fruitful a growing season. Since I planted in late July, I thought I would only learn about how Artemis works this year. Instead I got Tomatoes, Beets, Spinach, Chard, Nasturtiums, and Cucumbers.

Strange for the growing season to have gone so long, but the greenhouse definitely extended my Tomato harvest for over a month. My Carrots still grow in the cold frame. Same with Spinach and Beets and Chard and Kale. At least as of yesterday. We had another hard freeze last night.

Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, Wild Neighbors

Coming to Summer’s End

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Mabon and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul. Marilyn and Irv. Big O. Closing up the cold frames. 19 degrees this morning. A cold Rain. 23 in the greenhouse. Bye, bye Tomatoes. The Diplomat. High quality TV. Joanne, coming home today. Aspen Perks. Maddie, coming today. CBE bridge this afternoon. Red Tie Guy trying to make nice with fellow tyrant, Kim Jong Un.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow Tires

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Shifted waiting room chairs after Great Sol heated me up, found a shaded one as customers came in, spoke with front desk clerks about brakes, a steering wheel that wobbled at forty miles per hour, which winter tire to buy while I laughed out loud, often, reading Carl Hiaasen’s Beach Fever on the Kindle app of my Samsung phone.

Following Alan’s plan from last year, I had my Snow tires put on a bit early, beating the November scrum that often finds appointments out past Thanksgiving. Big O, not Stevenson Toyota. Cheaper and closer. An 8:30 am drive down Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive listening to Hard Fork, the New York Times podcast about tech with a focus on AI.

Aspens in sheltered places remain the grand golden torches of the late Fall Forest though most have lost their leaves to Wind and Rain. This is a delicate moment between our bicolored Fall and the bitter weather leading toward Thanksgiving. No Snow here yet, though Black Mountain’s ski runs did collect Snow a week ago.

Elk Cows gathered along Maxwell Creek where it turns and flows through Evergreen, their horned Patriarch lounging as the Cows ate Grass and drank from the cold Waters of this Mountain Stream. Evergreen Lake had no paddle boarders, no kayakers.

A quiet anticipation. Black Bears nearing the end of hyperphagia, hunting for or returning to dens to sleep away the fallow time. Elk Cows and Mule Deer Does quickening with Calves and Fawns.

Humans have on their hoodies, fleece. Most have on long pants though I saw a  man yesterday in bright yellow down vest, shorts, and sandals. Temperatures vary a lot between Sun and Shade, between early morning and midday making what to wear solved only by layers.

10 foot tall skeletons, ghosts made of used sheets, orange trash bags filled with leaves sport pumpkin faces. The increasing and earlier decorations for All Hallow’s Eve, or the feast of Summer’s End, Samain.

Summer has not fully fled with Denver hitting seventy-five this week. A few 60’s in our highs for Shadow Mountain.

We hang here between the final harvests of late fall gardens and the full stop of the growing season. Life in my late seventies mirrors this time. How long until l come to an end of my growing season? Words begin to disappear. The body becoming a brown husk, its seed long harvested, waiting for that first heavy Snow.

Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Judaism, Plants, Seed Keepers, Weather +Climate

Nathan and Lizzy

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Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. The Night. A cool, very cool Night. 35 right now. Shadow curled, nose to tail. Tom. Roxann. Ode. Elizabeth. The Northshore. Lake Superior. Grand Marais. The Poplar River. Lutsen. Wolves. Moose. The Boundary Waters. My new Pendleton Blanket with the Aurora Borealis. Electric blankets.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Nathan and Lizzy

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod.  Groundedness. Foundation.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Rain saturates the red cinder blocks making up my small patio, indoor light reflects off them as I open the door, outside for Shadow into the early morning darkness, eager, tail high, wet cold air seeps inside. I shut the door.

 

Hanging the Mezuzah on Artemis: Irv, Marilyn, Gabe, Tara, Me, Rabbi Jamie. Nathan took the photograph rendered here in the style of Thomas Benton.

Nathan and Lizzy: I love developing relationships. When they happen naturally. Yes, I’m an introvert, proud of my solitude and nourished by it. Yes. But I’m far from a misanthrope. The world has so many amazing people, kind and skilled and offering a perspective only they have. Can have.

I’ve gotten to know Nathan over the construction of Artemis, from rough idea to frame up to raised beds filled with soil and now plants. He’s a young guy, maybe early thirties. A man of business. A handyman. A trucking company. Colorado Coop and Garden.

He has plans. Emulate Tuff Shed. A Colorado firm that started out building sheds, then went to making kits that they ship all over the country. Next year he’s renting a shop where he can work regular hours, make kits for greenhouses and chicken coops, market them to the nation.

Lizzy, his partner, whom I met yesterday, runs a pet sitting business. She has larger ambitions, too. She’s a beautiful, high energy lady with a sweet soul. And, she loved Shadow. Ah, a way to care for Shadow if I get well enough to travel. Quirky dogs are her and a few of her employees special interest. Even better.

May they live long and prosper.

 

Artemis: I planted in late July. The average first frost at my elevation has come in early September, some years late August. It’s October 6th and still no frost. My Carrots, Beets, Spinach, and Kale are all cool weather crops, can withstand low temperatures, even light frosts. Especially the Beets and Carrots improve with the cooler weather, get sweeter.

The Tomatoes, my inside the greenhouse crop, do not like the cold. I’ve gotten a great first year crop with them, but if I could have had them in a month earlier, I would have had a huge crop. For a tiny greenhouse.

Nathan and Lizzy came by yesterday so Lizzy could see the almost finished Artemis and Nathan could install hooks for my cold frame tops. With the cold frame tops I can enclose the outdoor beds so they still receive Great Sol, yet remain above freezing. Extending my growing season on the outside of the greenhouse.

Once Nathan puts hard foam insulation panels-with handles-inside Artemis I should be able to grow Kale, Lettuce, Arugula over the winter. I should also be able to grow my own starter plants as winter begins to let go.

Good for my soul.

Far Right, Garden, Great Wheel, Politics

Free Speech. Unless.

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Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mini-splits. SnowPack Pizzeria. Aspen Perks. Conifer Cafe. Spice Ranch Fusion. Primo’s. Oyama. Three Victorias and Three Garcias. Brooks Tavern. Golden Styx. Thai 202. Safeway. King Sooper. Stinker’s. Ace Hardware. Wicked Whisk. Ripple. Big R. The Borgata. Natural Foods. Liks. Subway. Colorado Furniture.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mabon/ Erev Roshanah

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yirah. Awe and Wonder.

Tarot: Nine of Wands, (Druid Craft)    “The landscape: In contrast to the figure’s fatigue, the landscape behind her is green and fertile, often with a river or body of water. This represents a sense of hope and the promise of new life, suggesting that the struggle is nearing its end and the rewards are still protected.” Gemini

One brief shining:  The darkness remains long and longer, Mabon marks the day when we have darkness and daylight in balance, a halfway point to the longest night, the Winter Solstice, and a Wiccan holiday marking the main harvest that told the fate of the village in the fallow time beginning at Summer’s End.

 

Mabon: The Fall Equinox. A moment of equal light and dark. The growing season at an end. Combines in the Wheat fields of Nebraska and Kansas. Corn Pickers in Iowa and Indiana. Combines, too, in the Soybean fields. This is the Big Ag that has taken us out of balance with the practices needed for healthy soil and adequate water.

Artemis, sown late this year, in July, has already yielded Cherry Tomatoes, Roma Tomatoes, Kale, Spinach, and Cucumbers. Her Carrots have sprouted well, too. I harvested enough Tomatoes, Spinach, and Cucumber for a first Salad. It takes some discipline not to eat the Cherry Tomatoes. So sweet.

Mabon can help us remember the need for organic gardening and farming, for regenerative farming, for perennial grains and other food crops. No till farming. We can only continue to harvest from Mother Earth if we treat her well. May it be so.

 

Just a moment: Free speech. Unless. It criticizes Charlie Kirk. Or, the Burger King. Or, his manipulation of the military into roles for which it is not intended. Or, his elimination of the food insecurity report done annually at the Dept. of Agriculture. Or, his firing of the head of the Bureau of Labor Statistics for numbers he didn’t like. Or, you’re a court jester on a late night TV show who dares make people laugh at his expense.

This, my friends, is real and true tyranny. The suppression of speech. Not to mention the Burger King’s weaponizing of the Justice Department to go after his enemies. His enemies, yes, but servants of the truth when seen from another perspective. Dictators punish their enemies, tailor information to make themselves look good, and govern by whim. Red tie guy ticks all these.

How has he gone so far, so fast? First, shamelessness. No act too mean, no decision too cruel, no choice too dangerous. Second, a movement conservative agenda printed in advance in Project 2025. Third, minions who preen and praise no longer offering analysis critical of our dear leader.

No Kings on October 18th. Remember.

 

 

Beyond the Boundaries, Commentary on Religion, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Myth and Story, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Paganism lies just beneath the surface

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, her sweet self. Dr. Bupathi. Another blood draw. Soon another P.E.T. scan. Oh, joy. Cancer. Driving down the hill. Rides for my nerve ablation procedures. All our organ recitals. Mark’s journey of return to Hafar. Darkness. Welcome it. Vikings. JJ McCarthy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dr. Bupathi

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev   Strength of the heart

Tarot: Nine of Wands. (Druid Craft)

  • Inner fortitude: Past struggles have made you wiser and tougher. The card encourages you to trust the wisdom of your experiences and to have faith in your ability to handle whatever comes next.

One brief shining: I dropped into Noodles and Company, bought a large bowl of mac and cheese, a side salad, rewarding myself with comfort food for driving down the hill, hearing the news I expected to hear, taking care of bidness, thinking I might have to start being even more kind to myself if I’m in new territory.

 

Health: Saw Bupathi. As expected, he ordered a new blood draw. And, another PET scan. I’ll see him again when that’s been done. Short version. This rise in my PSA, by itself, is not concerning. If it jumps again? New drug protocols.

Here’s an oddity. The Rocky Mountain Cancer Care Offices had Halloween decorations up. Not just a few. Witch’s conical hats. Bats. Black Cat. Plastic Pumpkins. Strands of purple and black crepe paper. More. In every hall and hung with a decorator’s eye.

This celebration seems both early to me and yet so apt. If there is any place where the veil between the worlds thins out everyday, all year it’s at an oncology practice. Many, perhaps most of us who visit here, have seen the possibility of death move closer, some so close her breath is hot on the back of their neck.

Sure Halloween doesn’t hold the same punch that it did during early Celtic times, but it retains the spirit of it actually pretty well. Trick or treaters costumed in the night do represent, though most don’t realize it, the back and forth between this world and the Other World so pronounced during this holiday of Summer’s End, Samain.

I mentioned all the decorations to the phlebotomist who had just slid a needle painlessly into a vein on my left arm. “Like Christmas,” she said. “Yes,” I replied, “Only scary.” She laughed.

Do you ever wonder about Halloween? How much effort some folks put into it? Their yards decorated with ten-foot skeletons, witches standing around a boiling cauldron, maybe a devil, or a vampire? Pumpkin lights. Elaborately carved real pumpkins.

Paganism always lies just below the surface. In the holidays of most world religions. In the resurgence here and in Europe of diverse pagan “traditions.” It’s there to receive those whose faces turn toward the greensward, to the soil, to seasonal change. When the miracle of photosynthesis goes from science to awe.

Halloween speaks to our need to recognize death, to know the fallow time will come for us all.

Feelings, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Paganism, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

The Springtime of the Soul

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Road trips. Telluride. Ouray. Silverton. Durango. Shadow, rising in darkness. Morning darkness. Electricity. Artemis. Tomatoes nearing maturity. Very cool morning. Authoritarian playbooks. 2025. May you grow old in interesting times. TV. Books. Computers. Mini-splits. Fall come early. Aspen gold. CBE. Gabe and Gordonzeo. Ruth in her sophomore year.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Bubble gum and baling wire

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Ometz lev. Inner strength to move forward. Courage.

Tarot: Ten of Arrows, Instruction

Generational Wisdom:
The card emphasizes the transfer of knowledge from elders to youth, ensuring that traditional skills and wisdom are not lost.

 

One brief shining: Shadow is in the house, goes straight to her Nylabone Lobster, begins to chew with what dog toy makers call aggressive chewing, the kind that shreds toys made for softer dogs, ones whose chewing gentles the toys, treats them like Velveteen Rabbits, not Shadow for she demands resistance, counts on toughness.

 
 

Seasons: A cool morning. Forty-three. The greenhouse heater either can’t keep up or turned itself off. I’ll find out later this morning. These late August days and all of September mark a gradual transition from growing season weather to the bleakness of the fallow season. Sometimes cold, even frosty, sometimes warm.

 

Soon the Aspens on Black Mountain will begin to turn from green to gold. Jackie who lives above 9,000 feet in Bailey said they’d started to turn a while back where she is. Kenosha Pass, too, said a friend of hers. The whispered reports we share. Knowing seasonal change for what it is. Life-changing.

 

When to put on the Snow tires? Will my cold frames be done before the first frost? When will the Garlic come? Do the mini-splits need cleaning? How’s my supply of firewood? How about that first Snow? When will it come? Homes become refuges from the cold. Shadow loved the Snow in February. How will she react when it comes again? With delight, I imagine.

 

Mountain roads. Become more challenging. Technical. Call on forty years of Minnesota winter driving experience. When these Blizzaks lose their tread, I’m buying Hankook quiet studded tires.

 

Holiseason lies only a couple of months away. Starting on Samhain and running through the Epiphany. My favorite time of the year. Family and friends. Festive days and long cold nights.

 

But. Not yet. First the corn-pickers and the combines. Reaping the harvest as the mad colors of a Midwestern Fall bloom, red Sugar Maple leaves floating down, down onto Lakes and Ponds. Boaters heading out to see the colors on Lake Minnetonka. College football underway. Can the NFL be far behind?

 

I love this transitional time. A joy of living in the temperate latitudes where we have four seasons, more or less. And this change from the heat of summer to the crisp weather of fall? The best. All poignancy and anticipation.

 

As Rudolf Steiner said, the springtime of the soul. That’s why cheshbon nefesh fits so well here. An outer change enhances, encourages an inner one.
Dogs, Great Wheel, Judaism

A New Side of Shadow

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Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ric. His heart attack. Mussar. Jamie. Luke, professor Luke. Leo. Rebecca. Ginny. Janice. Janet. Follow the meaning. Listening. Art Green. Shadow and her quest for the treat under the chair. Lodgepoles. Aspens. Grasses. Ground covers. Flowers. Asters. Bluebells. Penstemons. Swallowtails.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mussar

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: Ten of Stones, Home

“The inner and outer community that sustains and supports the individual, not necessarily blood family but the trusted friends, comrades, and lovers who offer security and affection.” Parting the Mists

One brief shining: Morning darkness extends later and later as we move toward Mabon, the Fall Equinox, helping the day start cooler and my inner life grows stronger as the days become shorter, shifting from the growing season to harvest, from harvest to the fallow time.

 

Elul. The sixth month of the Jewish year. It starts just past midnight here in the Rocky Mountains. A whole month set aside for cheshbon nefesh or accounting of the soul. We Jews look for relationships we have damaged and ask for forgiveness. A friend whom you became short with? A spouse you gave the silent treatment? A child you criticized harshly? A dog you disciplined because you had a bad day?

Any rupture between you and another. We want to enter Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, or the New Year, with nothing between us and teshuva. That is, returning to the home place of our soul. This is, by the way, often translated as repentance, but its real meaning lies in becoming the you who you truly and always are.

While cheshbon nefesh may lead us into the so-called High Holidays, the Days of Awe, and its practices may make a lot of sense for cleansing the soul, I’m more, much more, of a Sukkot and Passover and Tu B’shvat Jew. That is, a Jew who follows in the Jewish holiday cycle the turning of the Great Wheel. I imagine Rosh Hashanah covers over an ancient harvest festival. If that were part of its observance, I’d feel more like celebrating it. As it is, meh.

 

Dog journal: Oooh. A new side of Shadow.

We’ve had to strike balances with each other. She comes in at night. I let her out in the early morning. I don’t reach toward her; she comes to me. I go to bed at 7:30 so she can get me up at 4:30 or 5:00. That sort of thing.

One of the hardest for me initially involved leaving the backdoor open. She wanted it. I didn’t. Too cold. Too likely to let in mice.

Likely enough that, as the seasons have rolled toward fall, I’ve put fresh batteries in my ratzappers and placed them in spots not far from the door. Spots I know mice have liked in the past. They’ve been down for a week plus now and no mice. Huh?

Yesterday when Shadow and I were playing her favorite game, where I walk a ways, stop, and when she comes in front of me, I drop a treat behind me, suddenly she was no longer behind me.

Her tail was up and she was running fast. She pounced. Went into the tall Grass. Picked something up and shook it. Flung it into the air. I wondered what it was so I approached.

It was a mouse. A very dead mouse. She picked it up in her mouth and did a fast victory lap around the property. Look what I did! Abandon all hope ye mice who enter here.

 

 

Asia, Family, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Judaism, Korea, Memories, Paganism, Plants, Sport, Tarot

Variables

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Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Cool. Shadow and her toys. The flight to Incheon. 9:30 am, MT today. Korea. The Jangs. My son. The Giants. Baseball. A six year old and the World Series. 1987. Kirby Puckett. Randy Johnson. Bert Blyleven. Kent Hrbek. Fathers and sons. Memories, the scaffolding of identity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Metrodome

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: The Three of Arrows, Jealousy

One brief shining: Stubble darkened his golden brown face as he listened, focused, a commander, a lieutenant colonel, yes, but here with me, my son hearing my doctor, Sue Bradshaw, discuss my health.

 

The Jangs: The Giants lost. 4-2. Beaten by the Nationals. Jung Hoo Lee got one hit. Root, root, root for the home team. If they don’t win, it’s a shame. Not in this case. Seeing Lee play center field, bat. That was the ball game for the Korean cheering section.

Their plane leaves this continent today at 10:30 am Pacific time, arriving in Incheon on Monday, the 11th, at 3 pm. The international dateline.

My son returns to work on Tuesday after a “vacation” spent as chauffeur and main problem solver for this Rocky Mountain Korean holiday. He’s confident, decisive, steady, kind.

His work phone kept him busy, too. The oddest problem? A geomagnetic storm, space weather, that could harm the instruments used in his job. Talk about force majeure.

 

The Tarot: Not often do the cards perplex me, but this one, the Three of Arrows, jealousy? Wha…? I left envy and jealousy behind, at least I think I did, years ago. Each night I touch the mezuzah on my bedroom door and say, “I’m comfortable with who I am. I’m comfortable with what I have.” I mean it, too. And feel it in my lev. So, jealousy?

Perhaps it comes to remind me of those days when I read many authors and wanted to write like them? Marion Zimmer Bradley. Herman Hesse. Ovid. Many others. I found my own voice.

Or. Perhaps it comes to remind me of the spiritual journey I’ve taken since those days of ambition. Toward acceptance of the Great Wheel as a model of life. Toward the Jewish insistence on constant questioning. Toward Yamantaka’s wisdom on death. Toward knowledge, intimate knowledge, of the One.

Or, perhaps it’s a random card with no particular resonance at all.

 

Artemis: Kale, Spinach, Beets, Tomatoes thrive. Arugula, Lettuce, Chard not so much. The east facing bed challenges me to learn how to plant it, water it. What unique gift does it have that I can’t quite see right now?

While I wait on the other vegetables to mature, I plan to try different things, see what might turn it from fallow to abundance. First, I plan to replant the Arugula, Lettuce, and Chard. Perhaps today. Then I plan to supplement the drip irrigation with my pretty green watering can. It has a flat copper spout with holes and produces a gentle Rain.

My goal is not so much a harvest at this point, but experimenting with variables to see what makes this bed a comfortable home for Seeds.