Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings
Friday gratefuls: David Brooks on love and autonomy. Who do you love? Bo Diddley. Quick Silver Messenger Service. The 60’s. Don’t you need somebody to love? Jefferson Airplane and Gracie Slick. I want to hold your hand. The Beatles. Love is a many splintered thing.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Celtic Cross Spread
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: Laid out the cards selected by intuition from my Wildwood Tarot deck, placing the first card horizontal, for the present, and the second card over, vertical for the challenge, then in the way of this spread, cards from three to ten, four surrounding the first two, and four more running up the far right side beside those six, and turned them over one by one to get an answer to my question, how do I live my best life in 2026?
This year of new beginnings (as are all years) opened itself it to me in many ways. Moments of reflection, what happened last year? Moments of projection, how will I be in this new year? What will I be? Who will I be?
The virtue of a tarot spread draws on its evocative strength, not predictive messages. The Celtic Cross spread identifies many threads that need attention, matters that will support or impede answering my question, How do I live my best life in 2026?
Without belaboring a full reading I’ll offer some highlights. My present showed the two of Stones, a card that suggests a need for grounding and balance while taking on an adversary. I took this to reflect my role in the struggle for a renewed and cleansed nation.
The challenge to living my best life, strikingly, displayed the ten of Vessels, or happiness. This card had two powerful messages for me: a challenge this year will be giving and receiving support and love. That is, not going so far down a political struggle path that I lose sight of family, friends, spirituality, Shadow. Second, as a ten it represents the end of a cycle, a coming home, a feeling of security. I take this to mean I’ve been on a path, trying to find a way to be in the world that gives back while also leaning into love and support. And, I’ve tentatively struck that balance. Next comes living out of that love and support toward a rich future.
The rest of the cards encourage reliance on creativity, on my subconscious, on intuition, all leading toward the 10th, or result card, #1 of the Major Arcana, the Shaman. Here’s Gemini on the meaning of that card:
- Connection to Nature: He is a master of his surroundings, understanding weather patterns, healing plants, and the habits of wild creatures.
- Mediator and Guide: As a gatekeeper to unseen worlds, he reads signs and explains the rules of the spiritual structure to others, often acting as a teacher for those who listen.
- Balance: While the Seer (The High Priestess) represents inner knowledge, The Shaman represents coming into one’s outer surroundings and the practical application of that knowledge.
Not sure what this suggests as the result of living my best life in 2026, but I’d be happy to represent any of those three.
Addenda: If you have time, read the David Brooks article I posted a link to in the gratefuls. I agree with his premise that we have swung too far toward the autonomy end of the autonomy-community pendulum. I disagree with him that broad political buckets like conservative or liberal either explain it or offer a remedy to it.
I do, however, strongly agree with him that we must love, deeply, passionately. I love my friends, my family, Shadow, Artemis, a nation devoted to succor for any in the world who need it. I love justice and compassion. I love Judaism and being a Jew. I love Mother Earth and Great Sol. I love plants and wild neighbors. I love you, dear reader.
“I have a son in command in the military. I asked him about this. He pointed to rules of engagement which come, according to this article, from the “target engagement authority” which is Hegseth. In spite of the fog of politicians attempting to provide cover for themselves, Hegseth’s own statement that the Admiral acted within his legal authority condemn Hegseth, not the Admiral. I agree that the Admiral tortured the rules of engagement to justify a strike on men struggling to survive. Who’s responsible here? Could it be the toxic combination of little men playing war (Trump and Hegseth) entangled with the Special Operations ethos of getting the job done no matter what?”
Arcing back for a moment to yesterday’s post about humor as a moral compass, I want to underline the lack of a moral compass on the part of this whole administration. Absence of an ethical framework results in decisions made situationally, often with the heat of passion at the helm, rather than considered weighing of good and bad consequences.
Think Noemi with the family dog in the gravel pit. Think Kennedy mindlessly ignoring long established science supporting vaccines. Think Trump pardoning Hernández while waging “war” on Maduro. Think Hegseth, the dry drunk wanting more lethality. And getting it.
This administration makes decisions in the service of more power and profit for those in office and for those closest to them. We know it’s wrong. They may not. They may see it as the spoils of victory, reinforced by a stunning “mandate” at the polls. Trump himself, the beating heartlessness at the top, believes in garbage people and shithole nations, which implies of course that he and his are not garbage and that their nation is not a shithole. I beg to differ.
My point is this. An unpredictable, greedy and often ignorant leader at the top empowers the more cunning, the more ideological in his government to get done what they want no matter history, tradition, right and wrong. They all operate in their spheres with vastly different priorities and focus. No one reins in Miller, Noemi, Kennedy, Bessent, Hegseth.
Made My Heart Glow
Samain and the Summer’s End Moon
Wednesday gratefuls: My son. Seoah. Murdoch. Hanna at Panorama. (Ha) Driving. Sitting with no neck support. Seeing Alan there, too. Forgotten. Tom and Mayo. Hold the ketchup. Mary and the creatures of Oz. Swooping Magpies and the horned Lucifer Bee. Among many others. Gabe’s beautiful photograph. Ruth and her A-basin ski pass. MVP w/o me.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hanna
Life Kavannah: Wu Wei
Week Kavannah: Chesed. Loving Kindness. “Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind see.” Mark Twain
Tarot: Being a metaPhysician
One brief shining: A forty-five minute drive from home, back and hip flaring, to Panorama Orthopedics across from the Taj Mahal (Jefferson County Building), using my still new handicapped placard to get a bit closer to a clinic devoted to folks with bad knees, arthritic hips, and bum shoulders, only to find that the medical assistant who made my appointment failed to register it in the scheduling system.
It was that sorta afternoon. Got sorted by putting me at the end of Hanna’s patients for the day. Which left me sitting in a waiting room chair, no neck support for an hour. Called back. Another waiting room chair. So achy I crawled up on the exam table while I waited and took a nap.
Hanna came in. The third beautiful, young well-dressed woman P.A. I’ve met through Dr. Patel’s practice. I’ve never met him. Her silk blouse and gold bling, watch, bracelets, fancy engagement ring all working well for her.
Very kind and candid. Probably nothing to be done except hip injections. In 80 year olds (and 78 year olds, too) labrum tears are common, wear and tear of old age and exacerbated by arthritis. Surgery usually not done. Same for my hip. The plan: a second steroid injection, see if we can eke out four/five months instead of three. If not, we’ll have to revisit it. Next Tuesday after my visit to Evergreen Orthotics for my neck brace. A long day on the road.
Too exhausted after all that to make it to MVP. And, I cooked the Cabbage and Butter Beans sheet pan meal! First time in a while I’d made something for the potluck. I missed going because I love that group. Too knackered.
Just a moment: Caving. Here’s what I think. The Democrats had proved their point. Republicans don’t care about affordability. Of health care premiums. Of food for the poor. Of food. Trump and his Republican sycophants do what they damn well please with no regard for the rest of us.
So the Dems chose Senators not intending to return and said, end this. We’ll kick and scream, but this way we restart payments to Federal employees and SNAP recipients, plus we get a vote on extension of health care premium subsidies.
Dogs: Yesterday, after a long day outside, Shadow came in, laid down and went to sleep. Her legs moved as they will in sleeping dogs. But this time, every so often, her tail would wag softly, briefly. Made my heart glow.
Free Exercise
Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Darkness
Year Kavannah: Wu Wei
Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. The inner strength to move forward
Tarot: #5, The High Priest (Druid Craft) “The card represents a bridge between the physical and spiritual worlds and emphasizes the importance of following a spiritual tradition, leaning on collective wisdom, and seeking community.” Gemini
One brief shining: As my friendships at Congregation Beth Evergreen broaden and deepen, as the Torah becomes my story, as mussar shapes my character, as having a Rabbi provides a backstop to life’s difficult moments, I know the wisdom for me of “leaning on collective wisdom and seeking community.”
Just a moment: Back to Hazony and his Conservatism Rediscovered. When last we left this story we had finished discussing principles 1 and 2: Historical empiricism and Nationalism. Today we’ll investigate #3, Religion.*
In Hazony’s conservative fever dream of a “restored America” the state upholds God and the Bible. Hazony intentionally inflects his third principle with Christian language. This dovetails, can you see it, with the New Apostolic Reformation’s concept of making disciples of all nations.
Here these two ascendant political movements declare not only their willingness to abrogate freedom of religion, but to in fact establish a state religion. Which in turn abrogates the second part of the freedom of religion clause which ensures just that- the freedom to practice your religion. Full stop.
The last sentence in his summary, so necessary, since Hazony himself is an Orthodox Jew, tries to leave a bit of wiggle room. But its full intent reveals itself in these words: “the state (read The conservative Christian state) offers toleration to…views that do not endanger the integrity and well-being of the nation as a whole.”
This invites a political calculus into religious freedom that is, pardon the word, anathema to the first amendment. Muslims. Politically active black churches. Pagans. Hindus. Who knows what might be considered dangerous to the state?
No, this principle is not about religion. It’s about power, giving the state a rationale to quash dissent, no matter its source. The second sentence unveils its true purpose since this state sponsored religion is “essential to the national heritage and indispensable for justice and public morals.”
The ten commandments on school walls in Louisiana. A conservative evangelical definition of when life begins. Dismissing LBGT+ folks as unnatural. More capital punishment. These ideas and their like already shape policy in U.S. states and at the Federal level. Imagine what comes if a group like the New Apostolic Reformation gains more, much more, than its nascent power. Which is their intent.
Just say no to principle number three.
Hazony, Conservatism, p. 33-34
Tragedy grown from tragedy
Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon
Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah
Year Kavannah: Wu Wei (and my mentor in it, Shadow)
Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. Inner strength to move forward. Courage
Tarot: Seven of Swords (Druid Craft deck)
Rather than aggressive action, the Seven of Swords advises using your intellect to navigate difficult situations smartly.
One brief shining: Next week another blood draw, my quarterly instance of true high stakes testing, a titch of anxiety already making its way into consciousness, roiling slightly the calm waters of my inner world, while I go through the now well worn ruts of it will be what it will be, life is short and I’m old, a good run so far, wonder what happens in the new territory if and when I get there.
When looked at from that perspective, gratitude comes unbidden. In this odd case looking backward soothes the soul, while anticipation stains it with worry. An important lesson in living in the moment, in this August 30th life, on this Shabbat.
Dog journal: Murdoch, now eight years old, rests a lot. Whenever my son and I talk, he turns the camera to the side or under his desk and there lies a sleeping tan and white Akita, happy with the people he loves.
Murdoch has traveled more than most people. From his birth home outside Macon, Georgia to the not so far away Warner-Robbins AFB. From there to Colorado, Conifer. From Conifer to Loveland. From Loveland to Hawai’i. From Hawai’i to Korea. Throughout he has loved the Sun in spite of his breed’s double coat developed for the Mountains of the Akita prefecture in Japan where Akita’s originated.
Shadow sleeps on her “place.” A towel I’ve been training her to lie on until I say “free” and throw a treat away from it. A calming spot. Good for anxious dogs like her. Shadow Mountain is my place. Hers, too.
Just a moment: Read about Robin Westerman’s diaries. Her secret plans and grievances. Her admiration for school shooters. Her careful planning. Makes me sad, not even angry. Tragedy grown from tragedy.
How Will It End?
Summer and the Greenhouse Moon
Monday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Spice Fusion Ranch. Swerve toward cooler after Saturday heat. Red Tie Guy and the MOP. One hour movement breaks. Back and leg pain. Ortho consult. Harvard Medical on back pain. The Bird of dawn. Make firm a person’s steps. Shadow and Annie playtime. Our rocky Soil. Wildflowers. The Greenhouse. Finished on Tuesday? Planting on Wednesday! Horticulture. Wild Neighbors.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Close friends
Week Kavannah: Roeh et hanalod. Foresight. Knowing what will be needed in the future.
One brief shining: Annie and Luna came out of the car with Ginny on leashes, Janice carrying the food from Spice Fusion Ranch in a brown paper sack, Shadow waited in the backyard since visitors put her in OMG, I’m so glad to see you, jumpy mode while I opened the door glad to greet Mountain friends who’d come to play.
Dog journal: Annie, sleek and brown and all puppy, came from the same Granby shelter as Shadow. Ginny and Janice adopted her a month or so before I adopted Shadow. She’s taller and a bit longer than Shadow, but roughly the same age.
It took a while for them to establish their power dynamics, then they played and ran, ran and played while Ginny, Janice, and I ate food from the new Indian place, Spice Fusion Ranch.
Ginny and Janice had stories from Champagne-Urbana where they formerly lived and where they still own an Air B’n’B. Janice created the first Costume degree program in the U.S. there while Ginny directed a social issues theater company.
Luna, their second Dog, is tiny. I’d be surprised if she weighed 5 pounds. Sweet and in the past a bit jumpy, she seemed much calmer, more herself yesterday.
Mountain friends. Ginny and Janice live in Kittredge, a very small town east of Evergreen about five miles.
Ancient Brothers: Just to say. We went around telling each other, one at a time, positive characteristics we saw in each other. A little love never hurts, eh?
Back and leg pain: With the movement breaks and physical therapy I’ve achieved a significant lessening of my pain. Also, with the evidence of the labrum tear in my right hip I no longer conflate its pain with the rest. Different etiologies.
I’m working back to regular exercise with my physical therapy exercises as a starting place. Feels good. P.T. plus tramadol finds my daily pain load enough lightened to help with my mood. A very good thing.
Cousin Diane found a Harvard Medical e-book on back pain and its treatment. I’m reading it now since I have decisions to make about what happens next.
Just a moment: Now, as the saying goes, we wait. What will a weakened Iran do in response to the MOP drop? Close the Straits of Hormuz? Attack U.S. military bases in the region? Send out assassins? Perhaps all three.
We’ve staggered from conflict in Ukraine to conflict in Gaza to conflict on the West Bank to conflict in Lebanon all the while bombing the Houthis and now to outright war against Iran. Where, when, how can it all end?
Celebrate
Beltane (last day) and the Greenhouse Moon
Thursday gratefuls: Paul. Tom. Diane. Luke and Leo. Marilyn and Irv. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Panentheism. The Bird of dawn. Set people free. Make firm a person’s steps. The Shema. Rabbi Jamie. Rich. Tara and Eleanor. Ruby covered in Lodgepole Pollen. Yellow everywhere. Great Sol. A slow unmasking. The vastness of space. The cosmic void.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Koi on the greenhouse door.
Week Kavannah: Bitachon. Confidence. “A feeling of self-assurance arising from one’s appreciation of one’s abilities or qualities.”
One brief shining: Long ago in the history of evolution Lodgepole Pines developed a simple method of spreading Pollen from male Cones to female cones, blanket the air with yellow sperm, bound to hit a female cone with the aid of Mountain Winds; those of us who live in Lodgepole forests get to share in this sexual ritual each June. Right now.
No matter the resident of the Whitehouse these two holidays give all Americans a chance to reflect on our actual history, not the whitewashed, fact unburdened history the right wants taught in schools.
I didn’t know what Juneteenth was until it became a national holiday. Oh, I’d learned about it at some point, sure, but the details? No.
In case you don’t know the history well either here’s Heather Cox Richardson’s explainer published today on her Substack, Letters From an American.
I found her writing on the 13th and 14th amendments to the constitution especially helpful since the racist U.S. government has begun a full assault on many of their provisions. Birthright citizenship. Equality under the law. Federal level enforcement in all states.
Celebrate, celebrate. Dance to the music. And never forget.
He told me he wasn’t one to dwell, that he preferred working, doing something after a shock like Takota’s death. My son has the same attitude.
I honor their intent while knowing grief will not be bound by choice or will. Grief works in its own way, on its own schedule, doing its work of reconciling absence with continued existence. Never, never easy.
Dog journal: Shadow now comes inside, lets me close the back door when it’s cooler outside without attempting to dive back out.
She routinely joins me in the bed sometime during the night. Her jumping up to be noticed has gotten softer, less frenetic so my skin has begun to heal.
The house and all its stairs pose no barrier for her. She roams at will inside and out. A curious doggy. A difficult journey for both of us, not over, no, yet so so much better.
A World of Difference
Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon
Thursday gratefuls: Shadow, barking. At night. Outside. The Mule Deer Doe. Nathan. The Greenhouse. Framed up. Seed order. Great Sol. Another blue Sky Colorado morning. Altitude. Maxwell Creek full. Kate’s Creek full. Lodgepole Pollen making driveways and car windshields yellow.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Harry Dresden
Week Kavannah: Gratitude. Hakarot Hatov. (recognizing the good) “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their own portion.” Perkei Avot: 4:1
One brief shining: A Mule Deer Doe, human habituated, entered the yard yesterday which excited the herding Dog, Shadow; she approached barking, the Doe did not flinch, had me worried since Mule Deer and Elk can kill a Dog with a swift kick, Shadow persisted, but kept a reasonable distance.
Dog journal: This proved a longer story. Both Nathan and I tried to convince the Doe to leave. Harassing Wild Neighbors comes with living up here. Feeding Deer, Elk, Bears creates situations where animals may need to be euthanized. Somebody has fed this Doe. She would not be harassed out of the yard.
Shadow took her role in all this with such seriousness that she would not come in last night, preferring to remain outside in case the Doe tried something funny over night. Apparently she did because Shadow barked, loud and long, at three separate times during the night.
Oh, god. That was my Dog disturbing the peace of a Mountain night. She would not come in, nor be silenced. She was at work.
Not my best sleep as a result. Hope the Doe goes on to literally greener pastures. And, I also hope the Bull Elk who have come for the Dandelions don’t return this year.
The Greenhouse: The framing is done. Nathan says it goes faster from this point. Since he learned that I’m a Japanophile, especially when it comes to design, he’s going to toss in a few Japanese flourishes to the door and other spots.
Nathan is a good man. Strong work ethic. Loves Dogs and the Mountains. A serial entrepreneur he’s owned a trucking company, a handyman business, and now Colorado Coop and Garden. His partner runs a pet-sitting business.
They live in Conifer to the south and west of Shadow Mountain.
My seed order is in the mail. Better get myself a new houri knife. Soil under my fingernails again. Looking forward to it.
Cancer: No, not mine. Generation C. Millennials. Read a heart-rending story of a 25 year old man in Utah with stage 4 colon cancer. He held on until his daughter was born. Article did not say whether he died. 25!
The same article shows the rate of cancer for young people rising while, paradoxically, it’s falling for those over fifty. I don’t know what to make of this. Neither do the medical folks. Something is happen’, but we just don’t know what it is.
At 78 I’d prefer not to have cancer. Of course. Yet at my age life has been mostly lived. A son out in the world on his own. A career or two finished. Loves and Dogs and Travels.
Worlds apart. Stage 4 cancer at 25, stage 4 cancer at 78.
The Maker and the Made
Beltane and the Wu Wei Moon II
Tuesday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Luke and Leo. Shadow. Happy to be with Leo. Cool night. The last for a while. Tom and Rascal. That Lodgepole leaning. Rain. Possible Monsoons. Traveler’s Insurance. Ruby.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Art Green
Week Kavannah: Zerizut. Enthusiasm. ?How do I reignite my enthusiasm for working out?
One brief shining: I went and got coffee; it’s cool to be independent in a place that is completely new says American Ruth on the streets of Songtan, Korea; a spot I knew well from my time with my son and Seoah.
Ruth’s on day 2 of her Korean trip. Sleeping in the same bed I slept in two years ago. Probably jet lagged, but leaning way in to the new world, Asia, so different, yet fully human.
Travel expands the range of the possible. Nope, knives and forks and spoons? Not everyone uses them. The language. The way of writing it. The gene pool. Sloping tiled roofs in the Asian manner. Food with all the sides typical in Korea. A world of difference. What the MAGA folks miss in their cultural chauvinism.
Here’s to Ruth. Adventuress.
A conundrum. Me, too, and art. And thought. And friendships. Do you still watch Woody Allen films? How about Roman Polanski? Attend Catholic mass? Do you admire Bill Clinton? How about Picasso? Art Green? Believe Anita Hill? Weinstein? Kevin Spacey? Bill Cosby?
Here’s the conundrum. Do bad acts taint everything a person has done? Is Kevin Spacey less good in American Beauty because he’s a sexual predator? Is the Catholic church defiled in toto by its wayward priests? Does Picasso’s notorious philandering make his painting less than?
I come down with confidence on all sides of this issue. Woody Allen slept with, then married the adopted daughter of his former wife, Mia Farrow. Does this make his films less funny?
Can we separate the maker from the made? Yes. No. First of all, look at the long history of art now represented in museums. Most of the works in any museum come with little information about the artist’s private life. Especially those works from antiquity.
Since we admire these works without knowing the peccadillos of the sculptor of the Doryphoros or the carver of the Jade Mountain, the potter who made the roku tea cups, it is possible, probably likely that some of them were miserable human beings.
Is that Greek athlete, a spear-bearer, any less magnificent if we would find his maker was a pedophile? Or, the potter a wife beater? Would the graceful and beautiful scenes on the Jade Mountain be less so if the maker were a thief?
In other words in cases where we have no idea about this information we find no impediment to our appreciation of the work on its own, distinct from the hands and the heart that created it.
This suggests to me that the work is independent of the maker, of the maker’s biography, whatever it includes.
On the other hand. Bill Cosby. I can’t see anything he’s made without carrying to it his drugging women for sexual predation. Even Woody Allen. Though less so for some reason. Picasso? I don’t consider his private life at all when I see his art.
What are the criteria we use? Do we condemn the bad act(s) and draw a clean line between, say, Polanski and The Fearless Vampire Killers, a favorite comedy?
I guess I come down on separating the made from the maker. Yet a taint on it, a principled revulsion, a pulling away from the work made also makes sense to me.
I do know this for sure. I would not want my work judged by the worst mistakes I’ve made in my life.