Category Archives: Writing

Feelings, Writing

En-Theos

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Yule and the 1% Crescent of the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Joe’s visit. Ruth, too. Shadow. Tom and his week. Cold. 11. Prostate cancer. Its many treatments. The Dog run. Nathan. Natalie. Dr. Josy. Broncos v. Bills. Oh, my. Minnesota proud. Melt ICE. Politics. Poetry. Mary Oliver. Billy Collins. Rilke. Longfellow. Yeats. Eliot. Coleridge. Whitman. Dickens.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

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: Daat.    The Bridge Between Mind and Heart

“If Chokhmah (Wisdom/Inspiration) is a seed and Binah (Understanding/Analysis)  is the soil that develops that seed into a plant, Da’at is the nervous system that carries the vital life force from the brain to the rest of the body. It is the point of transition from “thinking” to “being.””

Tarot: Four of Vessels, Boredom

I take this as a caution, a yellow light. As I’ve been doing research for both Superior Wolf 2.0 and trying to figure out a cadence and a method for political research, it’s easy for me to get caught in the paralysis of analysis. Or, stasis. i.e., boredom.

One brief shining: Interesting, the dynamic tension between da’at and the four of vessels; if anything can connect inspiration to understanding, it’s da’at, linking the mind to the heart, ensuring the electricity of inspiration does not dissipate, become blocked, a blockage we could call boredom, “He’s lost in thought.”

I may have mentioned before that I get enthusiasms. Can be an idea, a person, a political movement, a poem, a book, a line of thought.

In using notebooklm, for example, I started out with two notebooks: political commentary and Superior Wolf. I meant to focus my thinking, my inspiration in those two areas, creating two channels which both limit my reach and give me space to expand within those boundaries.

Worked for a week or so. Then, I thought, hey, I could use a notebook for Talmud Torah, so I made one. Then, why not one for managing Shadow Home. OK. Opened that. Well, there’s always the Great Work. Yep. One more. And, hey, mussar, too. While I’m at it, let’s throw in one for Ancientrails. See what I mean?

En-theos. Enthuse. To find a feeling of godly grace, curiosity. Chinese culture and other tradition oriented cultures, too, I imagine, see curiosity as a danger, drawing us away from daily life, from the proven path and into the unknown. Uncertainty. Resulting, in this cautious view, either in stasis, boredom, or more seriously, rebellion.

My library contains a literary record of my enthusiasms. Latin. Ovid. The Classics. Poetry. Minnesota. The Civil War. The Arts. Travel. Fiction. Celtic history and myth. Horticulture. Military history. Philosophy. Christianity. Judaism. Dogs. Depth Psychology. And, more.

I have often gotten stuck at the en-theosing stage. Too much learning, analysis. Too little action. The result is a time of stasis, of stuckness. Or, boredom. In these moments da’at could have helped me, yet I never consciously focused on this character trait, how to bridge enthusiasm and planning, understanding.

I’m glad the four of vessels showed up on the day I switched my week kavannah to da’at. It encourages me to not get stuck in the ideas, the inspiration. And, it gives me a character trait I can practice for doing just that.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Writing

Lord Willin’ and the Creek Don’t Rise

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Thursday gratefuls: Joe. Coming on a jet plane. Star Trek. Strange New Worlds. Vast distances. Space. The Milky Way. Discovery. Hubble. Webb. ISS. Tian Jian. Saturn. Atlas. SpaceX. Blue Origin. NASA. The Moon. Mars. Asteroids. Mother Earth, our spaceship. Terranauts. Great Sol.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Joe

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:  Wholeness. Shleimut.

“The concept of shleimut extends beyond the individual, applying to relationships (finding a life partner with whom one feels complete) and the community (mending societal cracks to achieve collective creativity and flourishing).”

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, Eel

“With purity of intent, your destiny defined, you are able to bring wisdom and maturity to your tasks. Embarking on a quest of personal revelation, your vision leads you onward. Your deep feelings are expressed at every turn.” Parting the Mists

One brief shining: Plane landed, he said, getting a car, leaving the rental, about 1.5 hours out; Joe had come to Colorado, the Godfather whose godchildren eagerly awaited him texting, buzzing, Ruth sending pictures of her new-to-her car, a Subaru Forester that Joe helped her find from afar, like a good Dad; when he got here lugging his usual duffle bag full of books, another Master’s degree underway, Shadow surprised us both and barked at him.

OK. Nobody comes to our house at night.  I’ll give her that. And, he’s a he. She definitely prefers women. Still. So. Joe closed the door and went back upstairs. When we went upstairs, Shadow and me, she relented, only backing away.

Joe came in for a hug, a muscled 44, smelling faintly of soap, bigger than I remembered. Though in reality it’s me that’s smaller. That affection. Borne of 44 years in each other’s lives, of so, so many memories. Of so much love.

All the longing. As I get older, I need to see him, and Seoah, too, so much more; yet, distance and the arc of a career, a successful career, mean I’ll probably never have what I need. Makes me sad.

It’s not like I need to see him every day, though that would be great, but having him and Seoah closer than 9,000 miles… Would be better. Not likely to happen.

I love my life on Shadow Mountain.  Great and good friends. Shadow. Wild Neighbors. Aspens and Lodgepoles. A house I know, that works well for me. Living in the Mountain West exhilarates me. A life that works. No regrets. Even so, I feel what I feel.

On an adjacent matter. Talking with Rachel, my social worker, (ok. yes. It still feels weird to say, my social worker.) I did resolve one bit of tension. My walking limitations and my head drop issue have left me near home bound. I can and do go out, but I fade quickly. Energy and stamina both limited.

I’ve felt, maybe for the past year, an unidentified need to do more, be more while at the same time thoroughly enjoying my at home life. A vague guilt, yet real. And, it taints my pleasure in a life of reading, Shadow, cooking, writing, watching TV.

I’d always pegged the feeling as pushing in from the second phase of career, family busyness. Rachel suggested it might also come from building a new life after Kate’s death. In two distinct, but, I feel, significant ways.

First, we had a life together, Kate and me. Attending CBE. Going to see the grandkids, Jon. Special evenings out, theater and jazz. Drives in the Mountains. Caring for each other.

Second, I was Kate’s 24/7 caretaker for almost three years, always on, always going to this appointment or that procedure or cooking or doing the laundry. Constantly busy.

There’s the proximate source of the guilt. I have a life of fewer obligations, either as partner/soulmate, or caregiver. I should be doing more, like I did for all those years. Well, no I shouldn’t.

My life, a more abbreviated one than it was in those years, does not have that level of relationship and duty. That’s a fact. Too, these physical limitations are real. I can ameliorate them some with exercise and diet, but I’m no longer capable of living the life I once lived even six months ago.

Which is oh so, so far from saying I’m not living a life of purpose and agency, a fulfilling and satisfying life. I am. And, I intend to go on doing it Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise.

The Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari

Dogs, Far Right, Health, Politics, White Supremacy, Writing

Matters Ascendant

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Monday gratefuls: Shadow at home. Cooler weather ahead. Wildfire. Mitigation. The birthday boys. Rigel. Vega. Betelgeuse. Antares. Polaris. Andromeda. Milky Way. Crab. Red. Horsehead. Great Sol. Luna. Mercury. Venus. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Saturn. Uranus. Neptune. Pluto. (I know. Still.) Oort Field. Pioneer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Notebooklm

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:  Patience.  Savlanut.  “Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tarot: Back at it soon

One brief shining: She still hesitates, sometimes, on occasion I have to go outside and shoo her in, yet I can always get her inside, a marked improvement; on the leash yesterday we walked up stairs, out the door, and into the front yard, where Shadow strolled easily beside me until I decided to get the mail and tightened the leash because of the road. She panicked.

 

Dog journal: With prozac Shadow reacts less to sudden movements, sounds. She doesn’t seem to play as much, but that might be reacclimation, moving from four Dogs and a more frenetic day, Natalie calls it chaos, to the quieter reality of our home. She does seem more subdued, less the bouncy girl. A balance I know. I’ll ask Dr. Josy what she thinks about a smaller dose.

Shadow had begun taking over Natalie’s pack, herding them. I worry the isolation with this old guy might weigh on her, especially with the limited outdoors of the Dog run. Natalie pulled back on her recommendation that I get another Dog when her pack didn’t influence Shadow’s behavior. Pondering.

 

Notebooklm: I had three things, well, really four that began to push themselves forward after I got done with radiation and into a somewhat free time. Fewer, much fewer appointments and procedures.

The first and most urgent was exercise. Diane helped me crack that one by suggesting I focus only on resistance work. At least for a while. I’ve combined her recommendation with an easier on myself self-talk, not carrying guilt if I miss a session. I’ll add cardio back in when it feels right.

The second thing pushing forward, Shadow, had a built in delay since she was at Natalie’s until Saturday. I still had to get the Dog run built and stay checked in on her progress. Now she’s home.

The third matter pushing its way into awareness concerned the question of politics, culture, and my role in this, my fourth phase. After joining the Democratic Socialists of America, it became clear.  I need to continue my learning about the new (far) right, adding in attention to topical news, but considered from a progressive socialist perspective.

I’ve combined Notebooklm and AI to produce a daily, weekly, and monthly research pattern that feeds what will initially be two columns of political commentary a week on my Substack site. I’m still in the setting up and learning phase, but I anticipate getting started writing later this month.

The fourth? Long has it waved. Superior Wolf. Unzipping it, separating out its tech bro immortality storyline from the story of Lycaon, the first werewolf. I want to focus on Lycaon’s story from his time as the King of Arcadia in a time of myth and legend to the present. Again, Notebooklm and AI have helped me get a running start.

I’ve already devoted time to each of these, regular time, so I can follow Picasso’s thought: “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.”

There is, to be fair to the process, a fifth that does not have traction for me right now: the nature’s rights, or earth jurisprudence movement.

Writing

We Made It Up

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Yule-New Year’s Eve and the Moon of New Beginnings

New Year’s Eve gratefuls: Another year of life. Living in the third millennium. The Jang visit. Tom’s visits. Seeing the Ancient Brother’s each week. Paul, Tom, Diane. Shadow. CBE. Shadow Mountain Home. Artemis. Lodgepoles and Aspen. A Mountain Fall. Nerve ablation. Care for prostate cancer. Ruth finishing her freshman year and beginning her sophomore year. Gabe becoming a senior in high school. Commander Joe. Mary down under. Mark the old Saudi hand. Each Snowflake, Rain Drop, photon of Sunlight that came to Shadow Mountain. Each Blade of Grass, each Leaf of Ground Cover. The Mule Deer and Elk. The Black Bears and Mountain Lions. The Squirrels: Fox, Aberts, and Pine. Chipmunks. Voles. Magpies. Ravens. Crows. Robins. Blue Jays. Canada Jays. Woodpeckers like Flickers and Hairy and Downy. Each Rock of each Mountain. Each Mountain like Shadow, Black, Conifer, Berman, Berrigan. Each Mountain Stream like Maxwell Creek, Blue Creek, North Turkey Creek, Bear Creek. Conifer, Evergreen, Pine, Bailey. And our poor benighted government ravaged by fear, greed, and lust.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Each day of 2025

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

Creating Space: “Gevurah is the strength to create space and to hold space… it’s what helps us nurture our passions.” — Renee Fishman

Tarot: Doing a Celtic Cross spread for the New Year

One brief shining: The pregnant Mule Doe or Elk Cow will not celebrate a new year since time flows for them in seasons of plenty and seasons when food hides from them; the Mountain Streams know only flow or freeze, the Aspens gave up their leaves as they do, while the Lodgepoles did not; the Mountains stay steady, tall, varied while losing, slowly, their essence to Water, Wind, and Fire.

Time divided into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, centuries, millennia, eras, epochs. A mental construct made by us bipedals who make a category mistake, the fallacy of misplaced concreteness, and imagine those divisions to be real. They are not.

No December. No New Year. Except for our need to name what we experience as the passage of time. Oh, by now, we do not question it. I mean the ball will drop in Time’s Square after all. The calendars of 2025 will go in the dust bin, while new planners, calendars, charts pretend the days have names and the months, too.

Yet you and I know the truth, don’t we? We exist for a moment, a mayfly moment. Life begins, then ends. Stars are born and then die. Planets whirl around them until they don’t. All this fussing and mussing around what happens in a life, wasted effort.

We blink on, we blink off. If we’re lucky, we experience other constructs like love and justice and joy and grief and despair, experiencing them all among others sharing this wondrous, inexplicable momentum gifted to us.

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Fourth Phase, Health, Holidays, Writing

Habits Old and New

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Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Snow. Shadow here for a visit. Noon. Vincent and Julia home  for the holidays. Tara. The sixties. The anti-war movement. In loco parentis. Student’s rights. Civil rights. Philosophy. Anthropology. My 1950’s Chevy Panel Truck. Ball State. Wabash. Anti-draft movement. Second wave feminism. Judy. Fox River Paper. Appleton, Wisconsin

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Creole Food

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah   strength, discipline

In your daily life, practicing Gevurah might mean:
  • Setting Boundaries: Knowing when to say no to preserve your energy or integrity.
  • Ethical Discernment: Evaluating situations clearly rather than acting on blind impulse.
  • Discipline: Committing to a path and having the strength to stay on it, even when it is difficult. 

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The deafening sound of silverware on porcelain, the normal conversations in a full restaurant, the kitchen with waiters coming and going overwhelm my hearing aid, placing me outside even the table where Joanne, Alan, Cheri talk to Josh, the happy Hummingbird chef, while I sit there smiling and nodding, the fool on the hill.

During the Moon of New Beginnings I plan to recapture old habits and pick up one new one. I have already begun resistance work as my primary workout. Leaving out cardio, at least for now. I have a modest, but important to me, goal. Opening the wrapping on a protein bar with ease. Hey, I said it was modest.

I will also continue Ancientrails, as if I could stop at this point after almost twenty-one years of regular morning writing. I hope to add a rewrite/revision of Superior Wolf to my day. My focus on the kavannah of gevurah includes setting aside time for this writing project.

The new habit I want to add? I have been active in and read about politics since my teenage years in Indiana. That reading has included newspapers, magazines, books, and websites. I mostly read to give shape and reason to action. With no gevurah, no discipline however.

Like most folks I’d look at a front page and read what struck me. Same with a new issue of a magazine or the offerings on a website. Part of the new habit involves adding gevurah to my reading about politics. Chatgpt and I have developed a beginning plan for daily, weekly, and monthly reading on specific topics important to me and, I believe, others.

Those topics are: Christian Nationalism, New Apostolic Reformation, granola conservatives, white supremacy, MAGA, post-MAGA far right politics, anti-Semitism, democratic socialism, strategy within democratic socialism and the Democratic party for winning elections, state and city level politics expressive of any of the above.

Disciplined reading and thinking about these topics will inform columns commenting on what I’ve learned and how I see that learning affecting both the present political moment and movement toward a more just, compassionate, and loving world.

I will probably write these columns in Substack where I already have a spot which I’ve hardly used.

 

Cancer, Far Right, Health, Politics, White Supremacy, Writing

Reading Right

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Samain and the Shadow Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul and Christopher. Findlay and Sarah. Kate and Clare. High Winds. Shadow away. Arrival Day yesterday. Joe. Working out again. Cancer. Dr. Bupathi. Kristie. Dr. Carter. Jenna and Alise. Andouille. Kielbasa. Shrimp. Pork. Sheetpan recipes. New York Times. Ground News. Washington Post. LA Times. Vox. ProPublica. Ezra Klein. No despair.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Protein

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Netzach   “Endurance and Tenacity: Netzach represents the inner strength and fortitude required to pursue a goal or a passion over a long period, especially when faced with obstacles.”

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Oh, these cancer days and cancer nights, long have they stayed, often indolent no worries, ordinary sleep, ordinary waking, once in a while, at least every three months, a bit fraught, will the numbers be good or bad, sometimes, like as of late, ordinary sleep, but some edgy days with moving numbers, m.r.i.s, pet scans, radiation.

 

Health: Got my new PSA numbers over the weekend. A big jump. Uh-oh. Couldn’t ask the question until Monday a.m. Sent a note and Hannah said she’d make sure Dr. Bupathi had seen those results. Thanks, Hannah.

Not long after, again from Hannah, “The team thinks this could be the result of inflammation after radiation. Recheck in six weeks.” That’s also the time frame for my next pet scan. So, ok. Part of the process.

What matters here is whether I have transitioned from hormone treatment sensitive cancer to hormone resistant which requires the next step in protocols, new drugs, stronger ones. If my psa goes down, that is below 0.3, I continue on androgen deprivation therapy-hormone treatment-as I have since 2019.

This has my attention. Not worried yet not placid. Things not definitive. Six weeks of this. I appreciated Hannah understanding my concern, following it down. There are no small roles in this personal life and death drama.

 

Just a moment: A continuing commitment. I will read and comment on the news, especially news originating from non-traditional sources like the conservative Bulwark, the liberal Vox and Propublica, Groundnews, the Atlantic, and the Guardian. For my own original reporting I will continue to take you inside texts like Yasem Hazony’s Conservativism Redefined and the Violent Take It By Force, Matthew Taylor on the New Apostolic Reformation.

This week I’ve purchased two that will occupy much of my time for a while. Abundance by Ezra Klein, a progressive political agenda for our time, and Furious Minds by Princeton scholar of the New Right, Laura K. Field, which analyzes the Making of the MAGA New Right.

This is a project I began a while ago when reading Patrick Deneen’s, Why Liberalism Failed, followed by a book on the John Birch Society, another on Christian Nationalism, and yet  another on thinkers who have impacted the New Right.  Renaud Camus, for example, the French political philosopher who developed Replacement Theory. That was 2023. Well before the return of red tie guy.

Replacement theory shows up in the recent Trumpian National Security Strategy as that document’s warning to Europe about “civilizational erasure.” It also shows up among America white nationalists associated with MAGA.

I’m beginning to trust my sense of what drives the new far right, now I want to understand how its rise will effect our future.

Cooking, Politics, Writing

Now You Know My Biases

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Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Monday gratefuls: Snow in the forecast. Rain, too. Joanne’s recovery. Joe Greenberg. Shadow Mountain Home. Shadow Mountain. Evergreen. Pine. Conifer. Black Mountain Drive. Shadow Mountain Drive. Brook Forest Road. Blue Creek Road. Dr. Carter. Radiation. Abby, hip injection. Dr. Matthews, nerve ablation. Morgan, neck brace

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Bubble gum and baling wire

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Got out the Nordic Ware aluminum sheet pan, shiny, but no longer new, and opened the refrigerator to retrieve the brown paper wrapped tail on Shrimp, the minced Garlic both of which I placed next to the Kosher Salt, Red Pepper flakes, and the 1/4 cup measure; the big mixing bowl contained the two dry English muffins which I sliced in half, putting them next to the cutting board.

 

Cooking: Yes, I’m doing it. I canceled CookUnity, ok, but uneven meals. Too often had to throw one out.

I’m going full sheet pan on this cooking thing. They’re easy(ier) to put together and much easier to cook. They also produce four servings at least which means I can store them in meal sized aliquots (a Kate word) to have later. Two sheet pan recipes produce supper for a full week. And, they have vegetables.

The New York Times Cooking section has dozens of sheet pan recipes. Working my way through the ones that sound good and already repeating one I really liked.

It’s not easy. Standing that long hurts. It might be this week reduces the pain. I certainly hope so. Still, it’s worth it. I had to understand my schedule to do it though. I cook them in the morning after my workout. Mornings are my best times bodywise. I can handle the self-imposed abuse plus get something tasty out of it.

 

Just a moment: I don’t do original reporting, but I do read the Silver Bulletin, Vox, Ground News, the Atlantic, the Guardian, the NYT, the WP, the LA Times, Heather Cox Richardson, Wired, and the Bulwark. Can’t help it it seems. I’m a political junkie. Hi, Charlie!

I do also read books by right wingers and lefties alike, focusing on key texts that inform right wing folks like MAGA, the New Apostolic Reformation, and conservative think tanks, while reading left and center books on political ideas.

I’m writing to let you know how I source my opinions, my take on the news, both of the day and the future.

I’m a left of center left democratic socialist, an advocate for racial and gender and ethnic justice, as well as the legal rights of nature and understand the changes necessary to develop a sustainable way for humans to live on Mother Earth.

As a resident of the American West with the heart of a long time Midwesterner, and one who lives both on and in the Rocky Mountains, I have an interior U.S. (not coastal) perspective as well.

As a gardener, a dog lover and companion, a Jew, and a pagan I take all of this: politics, climate change, and social justice work personally.

Meaning: my contribution to the day to day absurdity of the current administration will consist of my own analysis of the news, of matters that matter. Now you know my biases.

 

Poetry, Writing

Jane Kenyon

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OTHERWISE
by Jane Kenyon

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.
At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

 

Tell the whole truth. Don’t be lazy, don’t be afraid. Close the critic out when you are drafting something new. Take chances in the interest of clarity of emotion.

Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.

Jane Kenyon

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Garden, Great Wheel, Greenhouse, Health, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Reimaging revelation, Writing

Shou Sugi Ban Treated Wood for Artemis Greenhouse

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Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II (3% crescent)

Sunday gratefuls: Shadow jumping onto my legs this morning for a hug. So sweet. Fun with old socks. Our new, changing relationship. Back pain. Zerizut for p.t. and resistance work. Tara. Alan. Rich. Luke. Mussar. Shabbat. Morning prayers. Enveloped by Rain and Fog. Mom and Dad, both veterans. My son, a future veteran. All those who defend us with their lives.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. for p.t. and resistance.

One brief shining: As Great Sol began to disappear behind Black Mountain yesterday, a rainy Fog rolled in and gave my backyard a ghostly appearance, Lodgepoles coming in and out of sight, Shadow rushing inside all wet from running through a Cloud.

 

On Ancientrails: You may notice some extra posts here and there. I’ll signal them with something in the future, probably an image. You will find my regular as usual posts with the format of long standing.

These new posts are me trying to write out, work out my sense of where I am in my thought process about certain matters like spirituality, theology, politics. I’ve had this urge to write down things I’ve thought about for a long time. They’re incomplete sentences, non-systematic because I’ve admitted to myself that I’m not a system builder or even an always logical thinker. There is this strain of mysticism, a poetry of the inner world that means more to me than a syllogism. Though I love syllogisms, too.

You will know these entries by their lack of gratefuls, sparks, kavannah, one brief shining. Please feel free to ignore them. They’re me scratching my name in the wet Sand. I want a record of those ideas before the King Tide rolls in.

 

Dog journal: Shadow bounded into my arms this morning before I got out of bed, her paws on my outstretched legs. As if overnight, she’d forgotten to be shy, to be scared. I hugged her and she wriggled happy, licking my face. Yes, I said to her, this is what I want. What I need. An oh so special moment.

 

Back pain/cancer: Tara will take me to my open-sided MRI. I’ll have taken an Ativan for my claustrophobia so I’ll be talkative with little executive function for a filter. Glad I trust her.

Here’s an oddity with this MRI. Both my oncologist and my pain doc want images of my hips. Both have sent orders. I hope that doesn’t screw things up.

Oncologist checking for metastatic growth in my hips. Pain doc getting information for a possible insertion of a SPRINT device later. Two diagnoses for the price of one! BOGO.

 

Just a moment: We will move into the Artemis Greenhouse Moon tomorrow. Nathan comes tomorrow to begin building. He thinks it will take about a week. I’m excited. I want/need to grow things again.

It will be done in shou sogi ban treated wood. This is an ancient Japanese wood treatment that involves charring the surface of a board, then sealing it. Nathan has taught himself how to do this.

Since I’m starting a little late in the gardening year, I’ll have to be careful with what I plant, but I’ll get crops this year. Plus there will be flowers.

 

 

 

 

Asia, Judaism, Myth and Story, Paganism, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Reimaging revelation, Science, Torah, Wild Neighbors, Writing

A New Credo

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      Hercules wrestling Thanatos

Driving to Lone Tree this morning. Spine injections. Struck by the notion of Israel Harari. The Mountain man who struggles with God. Of Jacob/Israel as an archetype. The trickster transformed into wounded man of faith. Peniel-where I saw God face to face.

I’ve focused on Israel, on the struggle, but not considered or not fully considered the after moment, when Israel, newly named, limps away having seen God. Who names this ford on the Jabbok river after his realization.

So I decided to do that. I’ve struggled with God since I was young. Too small. Too violent. Too obscure and ineffable. Dead. I don’t experience God. What good can God be? And this stupid, stupid idea of a seventy year life as a test for residing in Heaven or Hell for eternity? No.

Then, the last 30 years or so, pass. Focused on the Soil, the Seed, the growing miracle of Plants, Dogs, grandchildren, love. No need for God. I feel the sacred when I amend the Earth. Pluck Onions and Carrots from their hidden places and spray them off with a hose nozzle. Food. The true transubstantiation.

What if I felt my way into the Goddess? Her Earth. Me as part, yet not part. Unique, but not unique. A Wave above her Ocean, ready at all times to return. What if I admitted to myself that my  feeling of separateness is the original sin. The hubris of independence. Of individuality.

What if. The yetzer hara, the selfish inclination, speaks to us of separateness. Of our needs. Of our unique demands. While the yetzer hatov speaks to our interdependence, our awareness of the needs of others, of the World around us.

Could I find the sense of support, of sustenance, of forgiveness, of grace, of embeddedness in the whole, the One? Could I pray? I drove on, watching the Trees, the Hogback, remnants of the orogeny that preceded the rise of the Rocky Mountains. Striated. Weathered. Shrunken. But still there, millions upon millions of years after its emergence.

Was I really, truly part of it? Was all the artifice of highways and cars part of it? The houses and stores. Doctor Vu, the kind and careful man who inserted needles into the narrow spaces of my bulging spine. And all his tech? The rotating bed. The living x-ray. Michal, his variously adorned assistant. Even the steroids shot toward my nerves? All of it?

What difference might it make if I leaned into this most pushed away notion. Or, is it the embrace I’ve already made of the chi, of wu wei, of the mystical revealing the ordinary as the sacred? Do those feelings find me already in her arms?

You know, it does. I’m a man of this short moment, a Wave cresting on the Ocean of the whole, going only from emergence to absorption, not needing to understand how. Yet as that man I’m also in and of the Ocean, of the Goddess, her instrument in this troubled part of her cosmos.