Category Archives: World History

Asia, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Korea, Literature, Politics, US History, World History

Korea and Reading

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Sunday gratefuls: Leo. Lying here beside me. Luke out having fun. Books. Oh, did I mention books? Korean history. Seoah. Murdoch. My son. Working hard. Korean schools. American schools. Having a dog in the house. Korea. The Korean civil war. The armistice. Kim Il Sung. Kim Jong Il. Kim Jong Un. Presidents in South Korea. Chaebol. Zaibatsu. Samsung. LCD. Hyundai. Different ways of organizing economies. And nations. Trump’s legal trouble. The House G.O.P. The Extremes. Showing us a path to nowhere.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Knowledge

One brief shining: Leo lies here on the green rug with Cypress Trees, I write this blog letting my fingertips move over my split keyboard, all while a bright blue Colorado Sky backdrops Black Mountain its Lodgepoles and Aspens, there is no sound except the slight click of the keys.

 

More reading in Cuming’s history of Korea. Two chapters on the Korean civil war. He believes we should have let them fight it out, burned out the divisions and reordered their culture. As we had to. As Vietnam had to. Instead we put in amber the tensions and conflicts present after the Japanese Occupation ended. If I read Cuming’s account correctly, the North would have won the civil war, probably easily without us. Even with our involvement they came close. Then Koreans themselves would have had to sort out a new political order. Instead we have my son and his colleagues still in country, maintaining a very fragile and often fraught peace.

It was a time of big power conflicts, especially the USSR and the US. The architects of the idea of containment Dean Rusk, George Kennan, and Paul Nitze influenced the U.S. role in the war. Containing the Soviets, not China.

Korea is more than you know. Much more than I knew.

 

Realizing I privilege reading over most other activities. If I’m on a topic, an enthusiasm, I’ll sometimes read for hours at a whack. For days on end. Cup of coffee at hand. Now with my reading glasses perched on my nose. When I get tired, as I did yesterday, I watched a TV program, a K-drama just to stay in the the mind-world and went back to Cuming’s afterward. I’m neither a fast nor slow reader, I adjust my pace to the material. If it’s difficult, I’m slower. In the middle, as history usually is, I go a bit faster. With fiction I gallop.

Right now, as you can tell, I’m on Korea. When I finish Cumings, I’ll start another, the Two Koreas. Though. I might go back and reread the earlier chapters in Cumings. His long synopsis of Korean history before the late 19th century fascinated me since it contained so much that was new. For me.

Also, I’m building a conversion library. I already have a lot of books on Judaism, but I’m going to organize the ones I need for my study and put them up here in the home office. Had to order others. Looking forward to that reading, too.

 

Acting, Asia, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Travel, World History, Writing

First World Problems

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Tuesday gratefuls: Friends and family visiting. Visiting friends and family. Travel. Korea. Israel. Murdoch and his pink slipper. Conifer Cafe. A great workout, 140 minutes. Loaner hearing aid. New one on the way. Amy. Her trip to New Zealand to watch the U.S. Women’s Soccer team. Honeycrisp Apple and Peanut butter. Aspen Perks. Primo’s. Breakfast Places. The Bread Lounge. Parkside. Wildflower. Blackbird Cafe. And friends to eat breakfast with. Tom. Alan. Rebecca. Marilyn and Irv. Tara.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sharing meals

One brief shining: The often empty hearts of politicians seeking advantage power and wealth collude with the often empty hearts of the wealthy who want or is it need advantage power and wealth too so often this happens that the two become the same seeking that which is unnecessary for tasks that no one wants completed in the process ruining lives soil a planet the only one we have while what they truly need doses of love justice and compassion eludes them both.

 

Yesterday. Breakfast at the Conifer Cafe. Tom. Violet there, too. This time with red hair. I may go blond soon, she said, as she poured me some more coffee. Tom and I dealt with first world problems needing solution. His: AC problems. A tradesmen inflicted wound of a compressor coil which knocked out one. Stress after that knocked out the other one. With Kate this would have qualified as a reason to visit a hotel until all was well and truly cool again. Mine: a hearing aid that won’t charge. Made an appointment with Amy. Went down the hill to see her. She gave me a loaner and says a new one is on the way.

As I said a few posts ago, we can view these problems as hassles or as evidence of our continuing agency. We’re not dead yet. They are opportunities to retain contact with the world, meet new people, cement working relationships. And as my buddy Alan says these are first world problems. Not talking about starvation, war, oppression, poverty. A useful reminder when things bump bang and whimper in the night.

 

I plan to spend most of today working on Herme. I’d like to get at least two different sets of Cold Mountain poems organized. Both with an internal trajectory. I also want to spend a good bit of time on the introduction to the project. Playing further with the idea of a one-act play.

 

Also need to call Colorado Gas and schedule a change out of my meter.

 

Beginning to think about the Korea trip at a bit finer grain. Gifts for Seoah’s family. For her and my son. A house warming gift for her parents. Seoah’s brother built them a new home. I did buy today two contemporary histories of Korea.

 

Oh the winds of change. Noticed Putin’s face looked a little sour in a Washington Post photo. Well it might. Strong men who suddenly look weak often don’t last long.

Until tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Shadow Mountain, The Move, Travel, Woolly Mammoths, World History, Writing

Guests

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Monday gratefuls: Tom. Roxann. Lodgepoles. Aspens. Sunlight. Another blue Sky day. Ruth and Gabe in North Carolina. Joan. Tal. CBE. Israel. Trip payments. Fixing the wireless keyboard. Dead hearing aid. Marilyn and her award. The Bread Lounge. Quiet days, cool nights.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Guests

One brief shining: Sentences can run from harsh to gentle, grating along the tongue of the mind or softly caressing it, making the tongue recoil or roll over in delight sentences can be funny or serious delighting the mind or causing it to work carefully and sentences can confound the mind throwing it into utter confusion what power sentences have!

 

Tom’s visit comes to a close with our final breakfast out this morning. It’s been a real delight to have him here, continuing our Colorado conversation begun on December 19th, 2014 when he drove Kepler, Vega, Rigel, and me out here. We slept on the floor in sleeping bags that night. Gertie came with Kate in a packed rental van. She fed Gertie cheeseburgers along the way.

He returns to the heat and humidity of a Minnesota Summer. Different from the arid West.

It’s been a season of visits for me. Ode and Dennis in May. Mary a week ago Saturday. BJ and Sarah that Sunday night. Tom last Thursday until today. Nice to have folks in the house for a bit.

Tom has noted it feels strange for there to be no welcoming dog here. And it’s true. I’m dog identified. Yet I don’t feel their absence in the same way. I would love to have another dog, but I’m also enjoying having no one to care for but myself. So easy to contemplate travel, staying longer somewhere in the afternoon. Getting up at any time. Perhaps it’s the memories of so many dogs that keeps me company. Iris and Buck. Celt and Sorsha. Scot and Morgana. Tully and Tira. Bridget and Emma. Tor and Orion. Hilo and Kona. Rigel and Vega. Gertie and Kepler. 18 dogs. All still alive in memory, each one’s memory a blessing. As is Kate’s.

 

How bout those Russians, eh? Can’t fight a war, didn’t stop a rebellion. Putin’s looking a lot less like a strong man since the weekend. Instead of putting down the Wagner group when it seized a military HQ in Rostov-on-Don he allowed Prigozhin to slip away into Belarus and Prighozhin’s troops to stand down with no penalties in either case.

May they both get what they deserve.

 

Lots of ideas still floating around for Herme and Cold Mountain. Enough for a one act play? I won’t know unless I try to write one. The idea gives me energy. I like the idea of a one person play: Herme and Cold Mountain.

I also like the idea which resurfaced as Tom and I talked about cooking yesterday afternoon. A serious class in cooking basics and maybe one on a particular cuisine. At a cooking school. Realized I’ve taken all these other classes, why not one that will positively affect my daily life?

 

 

 

Asia, Commentary on the news, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, World History

Hail, Hail, the Hail’s all here

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Summer and the Summer Moon Above

Thursday gratefuls: Tom. Arriving today. Dick Arnold. My roommate in Jerusalem. Jamie. Herme. His story. Diane. The Ancient Brothers on Earth. A blue Sky. Slight Wind. Hail and Thunder last night. More Water. Planning, making trips real. Vince, coming to mow today. Shadow Mountain. Writing dialogue for Herme. And Ovidius Publius. Joan and Ruth. Gabe and his new guitar, amp. Sarah and BJ. Unloading books. In BJ’s own personal Idaho.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: South Korea, K-dramas

One brief shining: Life with that old excitement you know things to do in the future and a good day today Korea in August and Israel in October the Herme project beginning to take shape with Herme and the Old Grey Magician and Cold Mountain sharing a room together at the showcase upcoming, taking a bow before taking a plane.

 

Hail lies thick on the driveway and covers the Dandelions like Snow. The Thunder roared, the Clouds were big. The Lightning flashed and killed a Pig. Recalled that ditty many times in Minnesota, rarely here. Last night though…

The night of the Summer Solstice and the temperature went down to 46. The Hail pounded so hard on the windows that it woke me up and kept me up until it passed. Even with my hearing issues. Small Hail, larger than Grappel, around pea sized. The Aspens lost some Leaves, but not too many. Glad for that. The Irises are still Leaves only above the Soil so they’re fine. The Lodgepoles seem unflustered.

An exciting night.

 

The submersible. Gosh. Every cell of my claustrophobic body clenches up when I read the news about the Titan. It has seventeen bolts which tighten from the outside. No way out. No need at the crushing depths it visits anyhow. Though a lot of my claustrophobia focuses on could I get out if something bad happened. Why I couldn’t even go down the elevator in the mineshaft at the Lake Vermillion-Soudan mine. I wanted to go see the neutrino experiment at the very bottom. I looked at the elevator. I looked at its route, twenty-four hundred feet through solid rock at a slant. I bought tickets. I looked at the elevator. Its route. Nope, I turned around and walked away.

Even with a spare $250,000 you wouldn’t find me in that submersible. Would I want to be there? Yes. Could I? No. I’ve never done the gradual exposure therapy that can cure phobias.

 

Politics and its bedfellows. India and the U.S. Sure the world’s soon to be largest country has English as a common language with the U.S. Along with hundreds of other languages. Sure my son’s from Bengal. Sure the British stamp on India remains indelible if still deplorable. And yes India prefers to count itself as non-aligned, neither pro-Russian nor pro-China nor pro-West.

Yet India also has extensive commercial ties with Russia. There is, too, the India of Narendra Modi summarized in this NYT article today. Which disturbs me. A lot.

This is the classic example of the enemy of our enemy, China, might well be our friend. Maybe? But. Do we want to be buddies with an autocratic chauvinist who has sidelined Muslims and other non-Hindus, encouraged caste discrimination, and started a push to devolve the status of women? From a geo-political perspective it’s a tough call. A humane perspective though suggests now is not the time.

Dreams, Friends, Travel, US History, World History

Still reading

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Alan. Irene. The dreamers: Bèrengér. Jane. Sarah. Susan. Bright Sunshine. Blue Sky. Jon Bailey, coming to detail my car. Tickets bought for Korea. Ode. Psilocybin. Marilyn. Her trip to Italy. Water. The Watercourse Way. Cool night. This ring I wear that Kate bought for me. Kate, her sweet memory. Tears. Ukraine. Biden. Trump and his indictments. May his clothing soon match his hair color. Deneen. Regime Change. God is Here. Consciousness.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Knowing how to read

One brief shining: The Alexandria Carnegie library had a ramp going down to the children’s library in the basement and on hot Summer days when I was young I would go there and walk slowly through the coolness of the ramp and its tall concrete walls imagining what adventures I would find once I pushed open the glass and wood doors that opened in to the stacks where I had already found The Silver Llama a wonderful tale of Peru and the high Andes, what other far away place awaited me.

 

Breakfast with Alan at the Bread Lounge. Picked up a loaf of multi-Grain Sourdough, sliced. Had to hurry back up the Mountain for the monthly meeting of the dreamers. Jane in England. Bèrengér in Germany. Sarah in Santa Fe. Susan in Half Moon Bay, California. Irene on Upper Bear Creek Road, Evergreen. All connected through the collective unconscious. Through night time signals from our inner world.

 

After, I read some. Bought tickets to Korea. Now I’m committed to visiting the same continent twice, though at points over 5,000 miles apart. 6,000 if you drove. A drive would be interesting, wouldn’t it?

Beginning to fantasize, prepare myself for travel. So look forward to seeing my son and his wife, their dog. Visiting Korea. Even the flight itself. Packing. Buying travel guides. Asking friends and taking advice from those who know the area.

 

Here are the threads. Know nothings. A book on this nativist movement in the 19th century is in the mail. Nativists. And, by definition, anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic. Secretive. When asked about their work, they would often answer, “I know nothing.” Anti other. The KKK. Secretive. Under the sheets. Anti other. The formerly enslaved, Jews, Catholics. The Birchers. Added anti-communism to the mix. Presented the movement with new tactics like front organizations, running for office at school board and city council levels, chapters across the nation, anti-democratic. They are a bridge between the Know Nothings, the KKK, and the new far right.  The new Far Right. Anti-immigrant. Nativist. Often dog whistle anti-semitism, black and brown racism. Anti-globalist. Implied by their nativism. Much more variegated. Christian nationalists. White supremacists. Militia and anti-gun control folks. The Bundy, sovereign citizen movements in the West. Posse Comitatus. Survivalists and preppers. Those yearning for the apocalypse. For some damned reason.

Deneen’s works Why Liberalism Failed and Regime Change attempt to provide a scholarly rationale for shoving aside classical liberalism and replacing it with some form of new ancien régime. An oxymoron IMHO. However his critiques of our current situation have bite. Recommending reading.

As Goya and Michelangelo reputedly said: I am still learning.

 

 

 

 

 

Asia, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Hermitage, Judaism, Korea, Politics, Shadow Mountain, US History, World History

Introversion. Remembering.

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Indy 500. The Monaco Grand Prix. Grandsons. Granddaughters. Kate, missing her this Memorial Day. May be for those fallen in war, yes, but I take it too for those fallen from that most terminal of diseases: life. A second bright blue Sky in a row. The thirst quenched Lodgepoles green and healthy. Aspens beginning to Leaf out. The Iris emerging from the Soil. Kate’s Lilacs have bud’s. Korea. A high apartment. Moving day for my son and his wife. Baseball, America’s game, like basketball, now played all over the world. Neither though as big as soccer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe, his sweet smile

One brief shining: Sometimes I doubt my introversion since I enjoy being with people, talking, listening, laughing, learning then I have a week like last week Dismantling Racism, lunch with Marilyn and Irv and Heidi, dogsitting Leo, getting Kep’s remains, Rabbi Jamie, then Rebecca, Leslie’s funeral, Ode and Dennis that night, a missed massage due to traffic delays in Evergreen, mussar, breakfast with Alan in Denver, three hard workouts, and then baseball with Gabe even with some down time interspersed the emotional intensity of last week drained my social battery, left me with no charge and I thought oh I see yes you introverted guy.

 

Glad to have a full day here on Shadow Mountain with nothing to do. Saturday the same helped but baseball wore me out all over again. The driving. All the people. Those hard seats. Dealing with parking. Yeah. Fun, sure. But also. Oh, my.

Days with nothing on the calendar shine for me. I can work on Ancientrails, cook for myself, maybe do some chores. Read. Watch a movie. Hike. I’ve begun too putting these on my calendar: go anywhere days. Also days with nothing in them but days I can get up in the morning and drive to Gunnison, see the Black Canyon. Stay overnight somewhere if I want. Short trips, beginning to see Colorado. None yet but coming up this summer.

Today has these elements: breakfast, workout. Watch the Monaco Grand Prix on F1 TV. Recorded. Make some lunch or not. Dinner if not. Start reading Fever in the Heartland. Thanks, Ode. Get outside some.

 

A word about Memorial Day. Imagine all the graves, all over the world. The dead from wars of all kinds. Colonial wars. Wars for land, for slaves, for God and country, blood and soil. Wars of liberation. Wars between Kings, between countries, between tribes. Economic wars where the winners scoop up all the wealth and leave hardly any for the gleaners who work in filling station convenience stores, bag groceries, run the cash register at Walmart, Petsmart, Subway. We speak here of lives cut short, lives worn down death coming from exhaustion and depression.

Dennis Ice. Richard Lawson. Others from my high school killed in Vietnam. So. Damned. Senseless. Those WW I and II veterans who lie in Europe in the fields of Normandy, in the Argonne Forest, along the Maginot line, in Germany and Italy and northern Africa. The victims of the Holocaust. Also memorialized here this day.

We remember of course to acknowledge sacrifice, yes, but can we also remember to learn? I hope so.

 

 

Colorado, Great Wheel, Jefferson County, Mountains, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, World History

So it has been and so it shall be

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Rain. Rain. Rain. Floods. Full Creeks and Streams. The greening of the Mountains. Can allergies be far behind? Rebecca. Joann. Tal. Dismantling Racism from the Inside Out. Marilyn and Jamie. My son and his wife. Murdoch. Getting on a jet plane. For the Far East. Today. The World in all its distinctiveness and all its connectedness. All my relations.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ancientrails

One brief shining: Snow packs, Rains pound, from the top of Shadow Mountain, of Black Mountain, of Conifer Mountain, of Berrigan Mountain the Sun shines and melts the Snow, the Rain accelerates the melt and the Streams, Maxwell Creek, Cub Creek, Shadow Brook, North Turkey Creek, Kate’s Creek, flood spilling over into wetlands, high marsh grasses welcoming their abundance as they roll on into Bear Creek, widening its banks, carrying Soil and Pebbles and Rocks on their way to the North Fork of the South Platte and on to the great World Ocean.

 

In media deluge. We’ve had Snow and we’ve had Rain. And the Rains will come again. Tonight. Tomorrow night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Keeping that Smoky the Bear sign pegged right where we want it: Low fire danger. Mostly good news. The not so good part is that Rain promotes greening. Grasses. Flowers. Shrubs. Plants considered out of place, i.e. Weeds. As long as they remain green. Fine. But once the Rains dry up and they turn brown.

Driving down to Evergreen the other day I had trouble keeping my eyes on the road as I looked over to Maxwell Creek which drains the northwestern Slopes of Shadow Mountain. Muddy and full, it rippled and raged where it didn’t pool in grassy areas alongside it. The strange mix of culverts some concrete, some ribbed metal, some made of rock both hid and revealed the power of the water.

Noticing a particular culvert, a one piece concrete structure with a rhomboid opening maybe 5 feet high, I saw Maxwell race through it in a torrent, spilling out of the opening in a manmade waterfall. The creek itself was only a foot deep at the most. The rest of the height serving to support a bridge for the property above it.

At various points formerly dry Grasslands now served as basins for an expanded Creek. Functioning ecosystems taking some of the  Water’s power and distributing it over a wider area, taking also some of the particulates and building the Marsh. The unleashed force diminished for a bit.

Orogeny. Geology speak for Mountain building. These Mountain Streams are its opposite. The deconstructive forces of Pachamama, sending nourishment to Deltas far away from our spot here on Shadow Mountain.

Alan Watt wrote Tao: The Watercourse Way. Driving up here in these late Spring days the Tao is not invisible. It is palpable. The water goes where it can, goes where it must, and if blocked will work to unblock itself without losing hope or purpose.

Taoism remains the most salient way of understanding our place in the World, this one life we get as this consciousness. For me. Our lives are Water Courses racing down the days and weeks and months and years toward the Collective Unconscious, the Ocean of All Souls. Along the way we go where we can, we go where we must and, if blocked we work to unblock ourselves.

Each of us a Stream running down the Mountain that is this Reality in this spot of the Universe, taking bits and pieces of it along with us to enrich Deltas far away and out of sight. So it has been and so it shall be.

Judaism, Korea, Mountains, Travel, World History

Travelin’ Man

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Stevenson Toyota. Ruby. Ivory. Driving. RJ at Bond and Devick. A sweet man. Kate’s IRA. This sacred house. This sacred Mountain. This sacred life. The realm of mystery, of the unseen. The Arabian Nights. Saudi Arabia. Mark, who lives there. Mary, still teaching. Kate, whose memory has become a blessing. And all of our dogs of blessed memory, too.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and his wife

One brief, shining: Travel came with the gene pool, Mom spent her WWII years as a WAC in Signals Intelligence visiting Algeria, Capri, Rome, England, while after college at Oklahoma State University Dad wanted to buy a boat, sail the coast of the Gulf of Mexico and write about his journey, later on Mary and Mark, my sister and brother, would spend more of their lives in Asia and Arabia than in the U.S.

 

And now that itch, less dominant in me, has begun to assert itself. If my health continues and my money managers figure out the financial piece, I’m outta here. First to Korea to visit my son and his daughter. A month or so. My Korean advances, though slowly. Then in late October and early November Israel and Jordan. My Hebrew even slower. Then in the midst of a Colorado Mountain Winter, Ecuador. Yes, I’m working on Spanish. Coming a bit faster than I expected.

Excited about the prospect of seeing Korea as a tourist. Having the time to wander through the Land of the Morning Calm. It’s a different place than Japan or China though it has similar Buddhist and Confucian and Shamanistic inflections. I’ve found the Koreans I’ve met engaging, easy to talk to, interested in the world beyond Korea.

Israel has been in my  head as a destination ever since seminary. Christianity shares with Judaism sites and history in this small country. The Sea of Galilee. Gethsemane. Masada. Gaza. Dome of the Rock. The walls of the second temple. Nazareth. Caperanum. Jericho. The streets of Jerusalem where Pontius Pilate condemned Jesus. The tomb. Just to see these sites, even though their sacred lustre long ago dimmed for me, will be worth the trip.

I plan to spend some time in Jordan, too. Perhaps in a Bedouin encampment, certainly at Petra.

Ecuador. Another matter. A little bit of Snow Bird, a lot of curiosity. The biodiversity in Ecuador has no rivals. Cotacachi is in the Andes where the serranos, Mountain people or highlanders, live. As opposed to the costenos who live near the ocean in Manta and Guayaquil. The two have an ongoing and longstanding political conflict since Quito, the capital, is in the Mountains and Guayaquil, the business and finance center, is on the coast.

Can’t escape politics.

Not sure what I hope to accomplish, probably nothing, in going to Ecuador for a couple of months. Briefly live the expat life my brother and sister made their lives. See the Volcanoes, make it to the Galapagos and down to the Amazon. Check out the nature preserves. Spend some time with Diane. Hang out. More than enough. Probably too much. We’ll see.

 

Politics, World History

Ideas. And. King Charles

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Beltane and the Mesa View Moon

Sunday gratefuls: F1 qualifying in Miami. Sergio Perez. Checo. Confidence. Moving my art. Resting. Writing. Urku in Cotacachi, Ecuador. The Echo Maker by Richard Powers. Cranes and the Crane. Patrick Deneen.  Why Liberalism Failed. An important read. Mark in Saudi Arabia. Mary in Eau Claire. Diane headed to Indiana later this month. My Panama hat.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My body

One brief, shining moment: Ideas race into the mind, turning corners at apex speed, traveling fast down the straights of agreement, slowing when doubts begin to occur, or new evidence marshals against them, maybe forcing them into the wall of rejection, more likely requiring a modification in the pits of reason before mounting the podium of acceptance.

 

The history of ideas has been a favorite pursuit of mine since college. Deneen’s Why Liberalism Failed has kicked my interest in it up a notch. That’s usually what happens. I read something and wonder, where did that come from? Is that true? What do other folks think of that? Then it’s down the rabbit hole of philosophy, history, or research into a particular discipline.

Over time I’ve investigated Islam, the Enlightenment, the Renaissance, Taoism, Chinese history, Art history, the Far Right today, Quantum theory, various authors like Richard Powers, Herman Hesse, Goethe, Tolstoy, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Rainer Marie Rilke and many others. At some point I stop, either having got enough to satisfy my curiosity or having gotten tired of a topic or having been engaged by a new topic or sloth.

A bit of an intellectual gadfly I’ve never settled in one spot long enough to become an expert, never had the ambition to do so. Sometimes I regret this jumping from rock to rock in the vast stream of human knowledge. Other times I think it’s my particular gift. Getting just enough information and then moving on. At 76 I’d have to say I’ve chosen curiosity as a lifestyle.

Right now I’m focused on the Far Right. What’s going on? Who’s doing it? Why? Where did their ideas come from? How might the radical right affect the future of the U.S. Side currents in my reading right now include Richard Powers, the Arabian nights, and gathering information about Korea, Israel, and Ecuador.

 

The coronation of King Charles. Only looked at pictures and a couple of videos.

Gosh. Those big crowns look ridiculous. The Anglican archbishop putting them on looked like a dressed up clerk at a costume store trying hats on some customers for Halloween. Though. The orb and the sceptre were cool. Until I heard the words that put the whole globe under the Christian church and by implication, given history and the immediate context, of Great Britain. I mean, come on guys.

Loved the carriage. But even in the carriage those crowns still looked silly. IMHO.

On the other hand. Ritual is powerful. The congregation singing God Save the King. The footmen in fancy livery. The horses. The ride from the palace to the Cathedral.

The passing of power (much diminished from the time of King Edward) from one monarch to another. In days of olde the equivalent of free and fair elections, a means of ensuring a stable transfer of power.

Not now. Not sure if there any monarchies outside the Middle East where the royals have real power. Anyhow, fun for the glitter and the glam.

 

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Plants, Travel, World History

Pacha Mama

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Beltane and the full Mesa View Moon

Friday gratefuls: The Mesa View. The threshold. Liminal spaces. Dawn. The Omer. Day 29. Dismantling racism. Diane and Ecuador. Marilyn and Irv. At Primo. Sally. Thursday mussar. The tribe. BJ and Schecky under the huppa. Smashing a glass. At Sarah and Jerry’s in North Carolina. The cake with the wonderful floral display. A full day.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The huppa woven of large branches by Jerry

One brief, shining moment: There are too few words in English, too many instances of this beauty, the Lodgepoles bathed in the Sunlight of early Dawn capture me every morning, standing gentle and upright, Branches swooping toward the Earth, the Light filtered through the stand catching this Tree, this Branch, and changing its touch as the Earth turns, presenting Shadow Mountain at new angles to the motionless Sun.

 

Talked to Diane yesterday. We might head out to Ecuador after the first of the year. For a couple of months. Early days but Sally, who’s already down there, has gotten excited and sent me a bunch of material. Marilyn visited Cotacachi, too, and has some great connections she plans to share.

When I told Marilyn, a traveler of note herself, of my plans to visit Joe and Seoah in Korea, then Israel in November, and Ecuador early next year, she said, “Seeing how many continents you can touch?” Hadn’t thought of it that way. But, yeah.

When Kate and I went on our circumnavigation of Latin America cruise after she retired, we visited two cities in Ecuador, Manta and Guayaquil. I remember distinctly the Iguanas in the town square of Manta, the friendly Ecuadorian who took Kate to some pharmacy so she could buy medicine, and the wonderful market where I bought my Alpaca coat and small, but detailed paintings that I later gave out as gifts to the Woollys.

In Guayaquil we drove past the white city, a huge cemetery with many white tombs on our way to a Cacao plantation. Kate and I met the friendliest pit bull ever there. Also tasted a drink made from the Cacao pulp that was extraordinary.

Ecuador, which means equator in Spanish, was the first country in the world to give legal rights to its environment in their constitution. Here is the clause:

Article 71.

Nature, or Pacha Mama, where life is reproduced and occurs, has the right to integral respect for its existence and for the maintenance and regeneration of its life cycles, structure, functions and evolutionary processes.

Gotta love a country that gives rights to Nature. What would you think about a country that privileges gun ownership in its constitution? Or does according to some interpretations of our second amendment.

 

BJ and Schecky married themselves underneath a huppa made of large Branches woven together by Jerry. I attended via zoom. Bellews Creek, North Carolina. They will be moving this fall to Driggs, Idaho. Leaving their almost fifty year rent controlled home in the Beacon Hotel on Broadway in New York City. It was close to Julliard, which they both attended.