Category Archives: Feelings

Blessings and Curses

Yule and the Moon of the New Year

Where’s the Webb?: Fully deployed the Webb has come 684000 miles from home and has 214000 to go to reach L2. This is 76% of the journey in distance. However this is Mission day 15 and it won’t reach L2 for another 14 Earth days. Slowing still at .2358 mps. Sun shield temp: 131F. Primary mirror: -289.

Sunday gratefuls: Modern Bungalow. Cheap sunglasses at Target. Down the hill and back. Ruby, still less than 32000 miles on her. Iris kitchen. The Turtle clock. A new living room waiting. Early February, after the kitchen reentry. Feeling energized and excited. The Webb fully deployed, now cruising to its spot on L2. Quantum mechanics. Natal  charts. Kabbalah. A new way.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: New furniture

Tarot  me, current path, potential: eight of stones, skill; three of bows, fulfillment; six of vessels, reunion

 

On the drive down to the Modern Bungalow in Denver I took the time to consider my schedule. My bête noire of the moment. Wipe the slate clean. What’s my schedule like at its barest? My day has four anchor points: 6 am, get up and feed the dogs. 6:30 or so, up to the loft and write Ancientrails. 3 pm, feed and water the dogs. 8:45 pm, go to bed. I have to get up and go to bed. I have to feed and water the dogs. I do not, however, have to write Ancientrails in the morning.

Of course, I’ve done that for almost 17 years, since March of 2005 while recovering from my Achilles tendon repair. That’s a pretty long streak. Still, I could do it another way. I can write it later in the day. Which I’m doing right now, at 5:30 pm. I’ll still post it in the morning, but my experiment with my time will be this: 6:30 or so, up to the loft and write 1,000 to 1,500 words. Fiction. Jennie’s Dead or my new work which will feature Lycaon again.

Exercise will still be important, but a shade less important than all the writing. That is, I will finish my word count for fiction before exercising. And, I will tailor my exercise to the time I have. Gonna consult with somebody to work out the minimum necessary to maintain my health. Two to three HIIT sessions. At least one, preferably two longer, slower cardio days. At least two days of resistance. That will be the goal, but it will be subordinate to writing.

Appointments in the early afternoon if possible. Weekends and Wednesdays exercise free zones. Wednesday still D3 day.

For many years I wrote 1,000 to 1,500 words a day, day in and day out. That’s how I have 9 novels finished at least through the first draft. I lost that rhythm and I’ve felt the loss every day since. Want it back.

 

At the Modern Bungalow I picked out a rocker, a coffee table, a chandelier, and a standing lamp. Found an Arts and Crafts clock with a Turtle in ceramic tile and bought that, too. Kate’s totem animal was the Turtle, slow and steady. The clock will give the new living room a definite Kate accent. I scheduled delivery for early February, a birthday present to myself and well after I’ve reestablished myself in the new kitchen.

I plan to ask Jon if he will stencil yellow Irises above my new cabinets in the kitchen. I want it to be the Iris kitchen. Another Kate acknowledgment. Irises were her favorite flower. The kitchen will need a splash of color since the brown of the cabinets will give it a darker feel. Why I splurged on the counter top, to have a large light surface against the dark cabinets.

 

The Webb. With all of the turmoil and division roiling the political landscape it sure felt good to see a BIG project like the Webb get through launch and deployment. So many of my friends also seem enthralled with this new tool for deep space observation. A lot of its work will be in spectra of light that human eyes cannot see.

I noticed from a NYT space notice on my google calendar that this week is the earth’s closest approach to the sun in its orbit. I don’t know if that had anything to with the timing of the Webb launch, but it seemed apropos anyhow.

We not only live the curse of the Chinese, May you live in interesting times, but we also live with the blessing of a visionary, pioneering space program.

 

Gotta admit I’m excited to be alive right now.

 

Core Issue 2022

Yule and the New Year Moon

Webb deployment when finished today

Where is the Webb? 664000 miles from home. 234000 miles to L2. 74% of journey complete. .2484 mps. Mission day, 14. Final deployment of the remaining mirror segments can be seen at 7 am MT here. Sunshield temp is 131F. Primary mirror temp is -278F.

If you look at this photo just right, I think you see Kate Olson looking back at you.

Saturday gratefuls: The weekend. Yes, I still observe this two day holiday. Working on my core 2022 issue. Snow rake. Brian. Bowe. Judy. The finish line. Maybe Jan. 17. The Webb’s deployment and the Iris Kitchen happening at the same time. Max and Kate. Life continuing. Innocence. The Snow. Tarot. Getting stuff done.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: This photograph and sentence from Grandpa Strickland.

 

Tarot: spread for today: Two of Bows, fulfillment. Ten of Vessels, happiness. #19 The Sun of Life  (aspiration, obstacle, how to overcome)

 

Watched the last of the Webb deployment on NasaTV. I still can’t translate time from one zone to the other. This is a longstanding and frustrating glitch in my getalong. Almost missed it. Brother Tom prodded me.

Wow. Lots of other steps in bringing the telescope into full utility, but failure at anyone of the deployment steps would’ve precluded its functioning at all. Sighs of relief as this expensive mission completes its major hardware hurdles. I’m happy.

 

@willworthingtonart

Which latter point brings me to the hard card in today’s spread. My question was: how can I resolve a dialectical conflict between creative time and self-care time, especially exercise? Happiness is the obstacle? Huh?

Then I thought about the article I read a few weeks ago about happiness and satisfaction, or, as I will characterize it here, happiness and flourishing. (Eudaimonia) Happiness is a fleeting thing, a thing of the moment. Lunch with a friend. A smile from a child. That dog sticking his head out the window. Yes, it is both important and to be treasured. But. It’s not a constant state. Can’t be by its nature.

Most people, this article said, choose satisfaction/flourishing over happiness. We will often forego times that would make us happy to engage in work that allows us to express ourselves fully in the world.

Oh. Yes, even happiness can be an obstacle to work that takes incremental effort. This does not mean we make ourselves unhappy, but that we choose a longer path which can reduce our titer of happiness in the moment.

@willworthingtonart

How can we overcome our need to be happy now? By having work that matters, that is the Sun to our life. Seeing happiness as a condiment for life rather than its purpose.

To flourish I need to finish novels, learn Kabbalah and tarot and astrology, study more about democracy and our current troubles, learn better cooking techniques. I can feel I’m peaking now intellectually and creatively so I’m gonna lean that way.

Not sure yet how to solve the schedule conflicts between exercise and creative work. That’s my central issue for 2022 and beyond.

 

No issues with my teeth. Full x-rays. Good news. I take good care of my teeth and that’s paying off. Also, the business person at Aspen Park Dental said I could drop my existing dental insurance in favor of the AARP Plan-1’s coverage. That’ll save me $65 books a month. Really $130 since I only this week convince Ameritas to cancel Kate’s insurance. $1560 a year. Enough to pay my Plan-1 premium and take a bite out of my ridiculous car insurance premium. Good deal.

 

Jodi got covid and couldn’t come to look at the work with Bowe and Brian. Bowe, who is, as he said, a cabinet guy, had a long conversation with Brian. Those hinges, that door, those lazy susans. Oh. Brian says. I see. That’s an easy fix.

His delivery date was the week before Christmas and we still don’t have all the cabinets yet. Plus he made what Bowe called rookie mistakes. It’ll all get sorted out over the next week. Bowe starts the backsplash on Monday. Brian delivers the rest of his work, cabinets and shelving, on the 17th. I like the cabinets. Thank god.

 

That Small Town Feeling

Yule and the New Year Moon

Where is the Webb? 2/3rds of the way to L2! 597000 miles from Home. 302,000 to orbital insertion. Still slowing at .2964 mps.  Secondary mirror deployment begins. Mission day 11. Full mirror deployment scheduled for mission day 15!

@willworthingtonart

Wednesday gratefuls: Small towns. Stephanie. My urology referral. Evergreen. The breakfast burrito. Kep and Rigel. Bowe. The cabinets. Getting there. Grief. Mourning. Kate, always Kate. Yellow Irises in the new kitchen. Cold coming today. Snow. Snow rake here. Gonna use it today. Ruby, riding down the mountain and back up. A sweet ride.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Small town feeling.

Tarot-January spread, Health: Page of Arrows, the Wren.

“Wren urges us to be the sort of person who keeps the curiosity of youth, to be attentive to our surroundings, and  ready to learn when the opportunity appears.

The Druids considered that the wren, the smallest bird, was the wisest. So, wrens remind us to listen.”  wildwood book

 

Simple things that make me happy. Moved my doc to Conifer Medical Practice’s Evergreen location. So, so happy. I drive a familiar road, down Black Mountain Drive and then Brook Forest Drive to 73. Into Evergreen to Stagecoach Boulevard. Stephanie, the PA I saw today, was chatty, friendly, unguarded, knowledgeable.

Didn’t have go down the hill, into suburban Littleton to a bigger physician’s group. When I got done, I found a breakfast burrito and coffee at the same place I buy the occasional chili cheese dog on my way home from mussar.

I’ll still have to down the hill for my ophthalmologist and urologist, gastroenterologist. But those are occasional appointments.

When I see Jackie in Aspen Park, my hairstylist, I get the same feeling. She knows me. I know her. We both live up here.

Sukkot, 2016, Beth Evergreen

Going to Congregation Beth Evergreen expands the number of folks I know who live up here, too:  Alan. Marilyn and Irv. Michele and David. Rebecca. Rabbi Jamie. Luke. Ellen. Elizabeth. Rich. Tara.

When I worked on the West Bank in Minneapolis. Same. I got to know residents, business owners, street people. We said hi. Sometimes stopped to talk. Seeing and being seen.

When I create Shadow Mountain Hermitage, it’s a hermitage embedded in a nest of familiar places and people. Alone, but not lonely. Grieving, not mourning. Life without ennui or angst. Small town, rural life.

Class of 1965 float, 2015

Some folks might feel suffocated in such a small circle of people. Not me. Feels just right. Family comes from time to time. Friends, too. It has the emotional quality for me as walking downtown in Alexandria, Indiana. Indiana as a state appalls me. Yes. But growing up in a small community where seeing and being seen was a gift freely and often unknowingly granted to everyone imprinted me.

I’m speaking for myself. You might be an urban guy or suburban gal. I’ve lived in both and know they both have terrific aspects. When it comes to where my heart feels best though. I’m living in it.

 

A real afterlife exists in the mailing lists and databases of companies and institutions. Kate continues to get mail. Now 9 months after her death. The most peculiar one was this one and it made me think Kate may have been paying attention to Moira:

 

 

The kitchen remodel grows closer and closer to the finish. Bowe put up cabinets, got water to my dishwasher. Brian still owes us two cabinets, a few doors, and shelving for installed cabinets. He did the take the China display cabinet I’ve been trying to get out of our downstairs since we moved in here. Fist pump!

When I stood in the kitchen after Bowe left, I did another fist pump. Even unfinished it made me feel energy, desire to cook there. I’m excited. The new, hybrid space has begun to emerge from plans, boxes, waits.

Feelings. oh, oh, Feelings

Yule and the waning crescent of the Winter Solstice Moon

Where’s the Webb?  Still slowing. .5860 miles per second. Or, 2044 mph. 347000 miles from Earth and 552000 to L2. 4 days into the mission.

Wednesday gratefuls: NPO. Nothing by mouth. Blood work this morning. Pick up some paper plates and some frozen entrees. Shingles vaccine. All in one store: Safeway. Down the hill. Breakfast out after fasting. Back home for more D3, domestic duty day. Cold, Snow. Home. Sink. Counter Top. Cabinets coming on Friday. Assistance Fund.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cancer surveillance

Tarot: Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life  wildwood

 

A neighbor slid off Shadow Mountain yesterday afternoon. Broke 7 ribs. Taken away by ambulance. Caught by trees so didn’t flip over.

You wouldn’t think it, but the Great Resignation is partly to blame. Jeffco does not have enough snow plow drivers. Reduced presence on our Shadow Mountain/Black Mountain/Brook Forest drive. Which is a bit strange even so. A school bus route. The only road for emergency vehicles to get up here and for us to use in case of evacuation.

Folks (reasonably) demanding better pay and working conditions. I get it. Go, union! One of those paradoxes.

Supply chain interruptions. Any one who has transited the Panama Canal, Kate and I did it twice, has seen the global supply chain. We came to the canal very early in the morning on our Latin American cruise. I got up around 4 am, walked onto the deck. Our ship, the Rotterdam?, had a priority slot so we could see the canal during the day. We floated slowly through a sea of ships parked, waiting for their turn in line. Lights strung along hulls, blinking red on radar masts. Very little noise. Whatever needed to get to L.A. or Tokyo or Shanghai from Europe or western Africa stranded for the moment, a queue so big it’s hard to imagine.

At major ports in the world this queue has swollen, ships often waiting days to dock and unload. What a fragile thing our global interconnections are. Clogged and disrupted by something .125 microns in size.

Worked out yesterday. Felt sluggish. Happens. Missed Monday with Jodi’s visit to choose backsplash tiles. Back at it tomorrow. Trying to feel easy with exercising when I can. I passed a critical point long ago, maybe at 45 or so, where I began to think of myself as an exerciser. A person who regularly works out. The downside (and upside) is that I feel mild guilt if I don’t workout according to whatever schedule I’m currently following. I want to lose the guilt and keep the self-identification. Proving difficult.

Not quite as bouncy. Like an internal drag chute has deployed. Slowing me down. Not sick. John Desteian enlisted Kate’s help for me since I can miss a slide into melancholia. She would say, at my request, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That was an alert. Oh. Maybe my Ancient Brothers can take up that task.

If melancholy has begun, it would not surprise me. Not at all. It’s been a tough, tough three years, seven years really, starting from my prostate cancer diagnosis. A lot of putting the weight on my shoulders, head down, legs driving forward. Proud I can do that. But, it has a price. Weariness. Exhaustion. Denial.

I might need to locate a therapist, preferably a Jungian analyst. What I’m familiar with, what helped me so much years ago.

Not sending up a flare. I’m ok. Feeling that weight. Grief. Covid. Even the remodel and the mini-splits. All stressors. Also, blood work today. My anxiety titer always goes up a bit.

The Tarot gave me an antidote today. The Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life. Aces are about potential, about beginnings, about the power of their elementals and their focus. Vessels (cups) are about the emotions and their elemental is Water. The Water Course Way. Alan Watts. Flow with the feelings, don’t push against them, see them for what they are. A release valve, a healing mechanism. Embrace them.

Going to talk to Diane, then head down the hill to Safeway.

 

 

 

Forest Lovers and the World Tree

Yule and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

Webb at L2, all deployed. Launch + 29.5 days

Where is the Webb? Three days and two hours into its flight. Still slowing at .6555 miles per second. 296000 miles from Earth and 603000 miles to L2 insertion. 33% of its path behind.

Tuesday gratefuls: The cold. Some new Snow. A clear blue Sky. Water, a true holy trinity: liquid, solid, gas. And that unique property, the solid is lighter than the liquid. Makes life possible. Think about it. The Webb, traveling toward home. Science. The unseen. Life. Other humans, near and far. Prostate cancer. Jodi. The new backsplash, brick-like tile. Caution. Slippery Mountain roads.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jamie’s Road Trip

Tarot: The Year Spread

 

Where I want my PSA

Was gonna get my blood work done today. Nope. Icy Shadow Mountain Drive. 285, not as bad, but not good. Moved my trip till tomorrow. I’m also getting shot #1 of the shingles vaccine. No, I don’t know why I’ve never gotten it.

I hope the Orgovyx has pushed my T-score, testosterone, further down, and my PSA to undetectable. I’d like to let go of thinking about this for at least a few more months. A little nervous, yes. These quarterly blood draws ratchet up the excitement. Will it be down or won’t it? Not as bad now as the ones a few months ago when I still thought I could be cured. Now it’s a numbers game. PSA down. All good. PSA up. New treatment time.

A friend, Jimmy Johnson, has a PSA of 9.4. His doctor said not to worry about it, he’d die of something else. He’s 80. Made me wonder if I can back off the treatments when I reach a certain age. Whether I’d be comfortable with that.

 

Half working

Jodi came yesterday. She brought tile samples, the brick veneer. This time we could look at them with the counter top in. Made choosing easier. Went with a buff-gray. She says she can get those by early next week. If Brian does deliver the cabinets this week, it means Bowe can finish next week.

The sink works fine. The dishwasher not so much. Since Bowe came on Christmas Eve morning to hook them up, I’m ok with waiting a bit longer for the dishwasher. Will buy paper plates and bowls. Wash pans and cutlery in the sink.

 

Lennart Helje

Usually have my window wide open at night. Had to close it. My down comforter and electric blanket couldn’t keep up with the chill breeze. 3 am.

Love Helje’s work. Sweet. Evocative of a hidden world. Wintry. Scandinavian.

With Kep and Rigel next to me I was a Rocky Mountain version of this print.

 

The year spread. I’ve discovered these spreads with more than three or four cards are hard to summarize.  I’ll try to condense the surprising and upbeat feelings I had after pulling twelve cards, one for each month, and an additional card, the first one I drew, for the year’s energy.

Seven of Bows “This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” Not hard to see how this energy will fill the entire next year.

Already underway with the kitchen remodel and the rest of the redecorating. What else in my life needs pruning? What needs to be added?

Other information from this spread: I’ll post these cards as the months change and comment them then, but I want to focus on two this morning, the cards for April, when Kate died, and August, when she was born.

The April card is the Forest Lovers, number 6 in the major arcana. The August card is the final card of the major arcana, The World Tree.

 

April

The Forest Lovers represent balance in the relationship and the gender link between the two heterosexuals. This Wildwood Tarot card contains the love of nature for humans, of both the ecosystem and each individual. We are the mysterious fractions of the universe.”

We lived in Andover as the Forest Lovers, eager for Spring and the growing season. Now Kate stands hand in hand with my anima, the three of us around the birch with green life reaching up toward the Sky. Her death transformed her from a mate to a spiritual presence in my inner garden. We tend it together.

August

“As a symbol of the bridge of consciousness between the great universe in outer space and the small universe inside every human mind. The World Tree marks the end of The Wanderer’s trip and the starting point for another journey. The Wanderer began his journey around The Wheel with an innocent, passionate curiosity. It is the journey that has brought wise experiences, along with the gift of knowledge. Now, The Wander is taking the final steps along the path of the maze of life, entering the heart of The World Tree to become an integral whole with the cosmic memory.”

In the month of Kate’s birth, her 78th birthday, the Tarot deck offers both of us the completion of our journey together, one we lived as guardians of the earth and seekers of justice. I’m imagining my grieving will change in August of next year. A fullness, a celebration of our life together. She has gone through the small door in the World Tree as I will one day. We are physically separate, but spiritually one.

Enough for now. Look for the first card in the spread, The Ace of Bows, for January on Saturday.

 

Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

Yule and the Winter Solstice Moon

Max on the Winter Solstice

Tuesday gratefuls: My slab, all fabricated, comes home. Jodi and Blue Mountain Kitchens. Jon. Birthday dinner at the Black Hat tonight. The darkest, longest, deepest night. Yule. The Winter Solstice. First tarot reading. Max, growing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fabrication

Tarot: going to create my first Celtic holiday spread, a Winter Solstice one. I’ll report later. This is the first day in my year long study of the Wildwood deck in particular and Tarot in general.

 

The quartzite fabricator has met his schedule, bless him. He will be here today to put in my new counter top. This is the piece I chose, the more expensive one, because I didn’t want the next few years working on a counter top I’d settled for. Excited to see it in place. Coming around 9 or 10.

Brian, the cabinet maker? Not so much. Looks like the promise of my kitchen coming home by Christmas ain’t gonna happen. My friendly cynic Alan predicted this. I chose to believe. Sigh.

I have asked Jodi if she can have Bowe come and connect my new sink and dishwasher if we’re going past this week.

 

Jon and I will attempt a reprise of the birthday dinner. I’m looking forward to it. Black Hat Cattle Company. I’ve had great meals and horrible meals there. Hope this is a good one. Planning to try to get a better bead on how he’s doing, where he’s going. With the family in the picture I’m feeling easier about him and about us.

 

Did my first ever Tarot reading yesterday for Luke, the Executive Director of Beth Evergreen. The Tree of Life spread I learned from Mark Horn. It was both harder and easier than I had imagined.

Harder in that I kept wondering what I’d say next. Each card has its own meaning and that meaning has a link with the sephirot on which it falls. My knowledge of the cards is still very sketchy and my knowledge of kabbalah, though better, is very far from deep.

Easier in that I found I could go from the images on the card and my understanding of the sephirot to questions that brought a point of reflection home to Luke. I think I talked too much and knew too little. Other than that, I’d give myself an attaboy for the first reading.

 

The Winter Solstice. The beginning of Yule. It’s my favorite time of the year! Darkness. Gets a bad rap. The longest night is as important to our soul as the longest day is to our crops. I think of this day as the culmination of the promise made on September 29th, the Saint’s Day of the Archangel Michael: This is the springtime of the soul!

As the darkness and cold of winter offers us a chance to sit by the fire, get warm, read, dream, the longest night offers us a chance to go as deep as we can into the inner structure of our becoming. Yes. Of course. You can do so at other times; but this day, this night reminds us of how deep we can go, how much of our life happens in darkness occulted even to our own consciousness.

Since I left the Christian ministry in 1991, I’ve stayed steadfast against transcendence as a spiritual goal. It takes us up and out of ourselves, away from this reality, away from life. It also reinforces the idea of a three-story universe with good heaven, to be suffered through earth, and a bad hell. And, with the Roman Catholic hierarchy leading us toward heaven, it has reinforced the patriarchy of Western culture.

In rebelling against transcendence I chose to go down and in, rather than up and out for spiritual sustenance. I wanted to sanctify this world, this place that we know. Existence before essence. That meant I wanted to know what happened in the interior of my life, how it could inform my journey.

So happened that the Great Wheel came into my life at the same time. When I started to write novels, Kate suggested I find something close to me as subject matter. At the time I was learning about the Correls, my Irish ancestors from County Wicklow. I chose to look into the Celts, their history, their mythology, their religion.

I learned so much. The Faery Faith, by Edward Evans-Wentz, took me into the daily, seasonal lives of 19th century Celts still involved with the auld religion. The holidays like Beltane and Samain, Lughnasa. My first awareness of them from this exploration.

Then I discovered the Great Wheel. The expanded Celtic calendar of holidays that includes the solar holidays, equinoxes and solstices, with the cross-quarter holidays peculiar to the Celts: Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasa, and Samain.

The Great Wheel was the key that unlocked the door to my new spiritual path. It’s seasonal and I’m a Midwestern boy attuned to their changes as they relate to the agricultural year. The Great Wheel is an agricultural calendar so it matched my lived experience in the corn and beans belt of central Indiana.

Now, thirty years plus later, I’m growing beyond my rebellion against transcendence. I still don’t want or need its reinforcement of patriarchy, of hierarchy. But. Transcendence can place us in this interconnected web of evolution, a literally universal process happening both in us and outside of us. Transcendence can be the way we come out of the comfort of our own interior to interact with the ongoingness of all things.

The Summer Solstice, the longest day, the promise of the Sun’s energy delivered to plants so that our lives might be sustained, is the holiday of transcendence. A time when we go beyond ourselves, feel beyond ourselves. Live in the web aware of the web.

The Winter Solstice, the longest night, the promise of fecund darkness, of fallow times, of the life that gathers in the dark world of the top six inches of soil, reminds us of our precious particularity, our uniqueness, our once and only time. We go down, down into what Ira Progoff called the Inner Cathedral. We knit together our shadow, our unconscious, our consciousness, go down the inner Holy Well that connects each of us to the collective unconscious. We knit them together, see them for the whole, the distinctive pattern, that is our Self. It’s a both/and, our uniqueness and our can’t get away from it interconnectedness.

Gone on too long. Sorry about that. Can’t wait for night to fall. This night, this Holy, Sacred, Blessed night.

 

 

The Continuing Crisis

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Saturday gratefuls: The Blues shabbat. Kate. Alan. Jamie. Luke. Orgovyx by Fedex. The assistance fund. Prostate cancer. Artificial knee. The lenses in my eyes from cataract surgery. That mended Achilles tendon. My paralyzed diaphragm, left side. Medicine. Zoom. Ruby with a full tank of gas. Cold weather. Snowpack numbers up.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Conflict. Creative tension.

Tarot: ?What do I need to get the most out of this weekend?

Ace of Vessels: The Waters of Life. King of Stones: Wolf. Nine of vessels: Generosity.

 

3 generations of our family

A three card spread asking the question above occupies most of this post. It’s below. The focus is on Jon and his continuing crisis. Once again the cards evoke archetypal energies, caused reflection at a deep level, and remind all of us involved, Jon and the Johnson sisters and me, to be aware of emotional traps.

Blues Shabbat last night at CBE. I zoomed since it started at 7:30 pm and my chariot transforms to pumpkinhood around 8 pm. Makes attendance at Friday shabbat services a challenge for me. Rabbi Jamie wrote a couple of blues songs and wrote new lyrics to old standards like Stormy Weather. The CBE band had a keyboardist/vocalist, a backup singer, harmonica, drums, and lead guitar.

I appreciated the effort, but the sound on my laptop and the difficulty of getting good sound from the sanctuary to those of us online made listening difficult. I also wish the blues had been more reflective of Jews’ long struggle for safety and community. A little too upbeat for me. But the online crowd loved the show.

Had lunch with Alan. He’s in between eyeballs with cataract surgery. And wondering if some changes are permanent. We’ll find out. I always leave lunch with Alan smiling.

At the shiva for Kate he told me, “It’s going to be my job to get you out of the house.” He’s been true to his word. His kindness and consistency since then has helped me. A lot.

Got in my workout. A new practice now. I look at the day either the night before or the morning of and choose a time during the day for exercise. It has worked so far. When I had a rigid schedule, which I preferred, at least until now, I would be negative when I missed a day. And, I missed some, sometimes a whole week, like last week. I don’t want the negative so I’m going to try some flexibility and being good with what I can get in. My goal is 300 minutes a week. Satisfied with 240. OK with getting some exercise in a tough week no matter the minutes.

Today and tomorrow are study days in addition to family and Ancient Brothers time. Looking forward to it all.

 

The Path to a good weekend:

@willworthingtonart

Ace of Vessels. Vessels go with the elemental water. Water in the Tarot is emotions. This ace of vessels reminds me that I need to avoid extreme emotions, remain balanced in my response. An important reminder since I have a meal with Jon and the kids at 3:15. And, on Sunday, the Johnson sisters and I zoom with Jon to talk about his financial crisis and how to help him through it. Balanced emotions, clear expression of them, will be key for Jon to get what he needs and for us to do what we can without enabling him. No to enmeshment, co-dependence. Yes to chesed.

@willworthingtonart

King of Stones Stones are with the elemental earth. Earth is the practical, the this-worldly, the reality we can touch and feel. The Wolf is leader of the pack, one who protects, defends, and disciplines. Jon’s crisis calls for protection and defense of him and of the grandkids. We, his family, can do that best by a conservative approach with money, a generous approach with kindness and love. Our response, and his, must be practical, helpful, and timely. The Wolf also reminds us that each of us must make our own way in the Wildwood, but that we can’t do that alone.

@willworthingtonart

Nine of Vessels As the pip cards increase in number so do their expression of the key aspects of their suit. Our emotional response to this weekend must be generous. Kind. Protective. We must all guide ourselves and our emotional response with generosity. Not sure what that generosity looks like in action. TBD. But the nine of vessels in this position means it is the action most needed for a good weekend.

Overall  Jon’s situation will bring us closer together as a family. Potentially. If we avoid blaming, anger, disappointment, and yet insist on accountability, responsibility then we can avoid the emotional traps inherent in this kind of discussion. What comes needs to have clarity for Jon and for the family. It needs to give him support and protect the health of the pack, the family. These may be in conflict and will require careful, honest, open conversation. But. If we proceed from a position of generosity of spirit, generosity of attention, and generosity of resources, then all of us can come away from this weekend feeling good about our family and ourselves.

 

 

 

 

 

Good Grief. And, a confession

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Friday gratefuls: Mussar group. Tears. Lachrimae. Kate, always and still. Cousin Diane. Recovering. Grief. Good grief. Kep with his head on my pillow last night. Final bills for kitchen remodel. Within my budget. As I expected, but was not certain of. Seth Levine. White privilege, black businesses. Together? The American Day of Atonement. January 10th.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grief

Tarot: Eight of vessels: rebirth    wildwood tarot

 

Kate at 16

Grieving. At Toni Haas’ funeral I cried. Empathy with other mourners. Not for her, at least not much since I didn’t know her, only Rabbi Jamie. Perhaps for him. At Mussar yesterday. The conversation turned to being with those who are dying. How can we bring something worthwhile to the death bed?

Michele asked me if Kate and I had talked about her decision to die. Yes. Long, long pause as the memories of that moment filled my heart. Yes, I hate your decision, Kate, but I respect it and believe it is best for you. Now many tears, sobbing. I miss her so much. More tears.

Lachrimae. In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus wept while asking God to spare him crucifixion. God does not spare him, yet the tears, the lachrimae, had purified his heart. Tears cleanse and refresh our soul. Purify us in the face of something we would rather not have in our life.

So lucky to have a place like mussar where I can cry and feel ok. No need to say sorry. Being held in a quiet container as those moments with Kate flooded through me, draining out and down my cheek.

2014

I feel good that Kate chose to die. It was her decision and it came after a long, long period of suffering, of a life in pain, chronic illness. It relieved me of any guilt.

Now nine months plus later I have a confession to make. At least I don’t think I’ve said this here, or maybe anywhere except in my own head. On the day of her death she had sunk into a morphine induced coma. I left. Sarah stayed with her.

I got a call from Sarah shortly after midnight. She’s gone. I was asleep. BJ came, drove me into the hospital. I saw Kate’s body and it scared me.

The confession is this. I was not there when she died. And I feel terrible that I wasn’t. When he brought me home that late afternoon, Rich Levine asked if I wanted to change clothes and go back. I said no.

I covered up my guilt, even to myself, by saying I didn’t need to be there when she died because I knew how she lived. I call bullshit on that now. I did need to be there and I wasn’t.

Trying to be compassionate with myself. Trying to judge the whole of myself favorably as Rabbi Nachman suggested we do. Looking at myself. I was tired. Beyond tired, exhausted. Spent. The thought of sitting in the hospital room all night was more than I could handle. I needed sleep. So I left.

But I wasn’t there at the end. Folks in mussar were talking about how healing it is to be there when a loved one dies. I know this to be true. I knew it when I decided to leave.

If I look at myself clearly, I was three years of caregiving tired. I had given Kate all I had for a long, long time. It would have been better for me, and maybe, for her if I had been there. I wasn’t. And I don’t know how to console myself about that. Or, maybe it’s inconsolable? Too grievous an insult? No. I don’t believe that. Would not say that to another person.

What would Kate have said? You needed, you deserved the rest. And, you didn’t know when I would die. The doctor said two or three days. You planned to come back in the morning. I know you did. I love you and your not being there doesn’t change that. You were there, too, so many other times.

 

Eight of Vessels: Rebirth

“Meaning: By looking back at the past, acknowledging our mistakes, and learning from them, we grow and attain a new wisdom. The future awaits to be unfolded as we become the Eighth Vessel and receive powerful rejuvenating energies of rebirth.”

Wildwood Tarot Book

It was a mistake for me to not be with Kate when she died. Yes. It was also the mistake of a man burdened by mourning, by exhaustion, by a real and desperate need for sleep. A man who could not have known the hour of her death.

I will, I imagine, always feel bad about not being there. But. I can forgive myself. Bring chesed to my own soul.

Here’s why the Tarot has begun to resound so powerfully for me. It puts a card of rebirth, of life after mistakes, in my view on this very day.

White River Pukaskwa Jennifer F

A simple pasteboard image, some water, a few copper vessels, rocks like a mountain stream. That’s all. But I know where that eighth vessel hangs in my inner world. It’s beside the rushing waters of the White River in Pukaskwa National Park, Ontario. Lake Superior’s true North Shore.

I’ve hiked many times in that park, finding my way to the White River as it crashes and pounds its way downhill toward the Great Lake. Since my first time there Pukaskwa fired my imagination, my story telling, and now fills my eighth vessel. Reborn. Baptized in the Waters of Wilderness.

 

Vayigash and Gaetanos

Samain and the waxing Winter Solstice Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Shabbat. The Morning Service. Rabbi Jamie and his grief. The Minyan. The Snow. The cold. Rigel and Kep try to understand the kitchen remodel. Jon. His long nap. Gabe. Ruth. Sarah and Annie. BJ. Tom. The Ancient Brothers and the gift. Herme. The kitchen. Lower Gas bill.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A teachable moment. Maybe.

Tarot: Seven of Bows, clearance.  wildwood

 

No chicken pot pies. Yep. Not at Conifer Safeway or the Evergreen Safeway. My favorite. Marie Callender. Confirmed this on the way home from CBE after the Shabbat morning service. Laying in a supply of frozen entrees as the kitchen remodel goes into a caesura while more cabinets get made and the quartzite fabricated.

Jews read, then reread, then reread, then reread the Torah, the first five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. After Sukkot in the fall comes Simchat Torah, joy of the Torah. The reading of the five books ends, then picks up again at Bereshit, Genesis.

This is a qualitative difference between Judaism and Christianity. Christians parse up the “old testament” and the New. Often three short readings readings on a Sunday morning. The result, and I did it for years, is a disjointed sense of the scriptural narrative. The power lies in the hands of the liturgical calendar makers.

vayigash

Even in progressive synagogues like Beth Evergreen a new parsha is read every Sabbath, in a regular sequence. Parsha’s are long. For example, the December tenth parsha was Genesis 47:28–50:26. Vayigash. The result of this reading and reading is to create a shared story, a shared mythology, a tradition that joins all Jews. Cain and Abel, Babel, the Reed Sea, Pharaoh, the Golden Calf, Mt. Sinai, the 631 mitzvot, Moses watching from Mt. Pisgah as others enter the promised land. Each character from Abraham to Aaron has a lesson or lessons to teach, not as dogma but as human choices made in contexts that we still find in our contemporary humanness.

The morning service which I attended yesterday had some wonderful and memorable moments. After six years I still have almost no Hebrew so the chanting and singing in Hebrew appeals to me as music mostly. Rabbi Jamie’s haunting chants take me to a deep place whether I read the English translation or not.

At one point a note suggested we think of a person who loves us and imagine ourselves loved by them. I chose Kate. It helped me. Seeing myself through her eyes gave me a sense of breadth to my life, a sense of what loyalty means to a woman betrayed, a sense of my possibilities as real, rather than hoped for.

Jamie talked about Tony Haas, his mother-in-law, her death last Sunday, the work she did in rural education policy. He lived with her and she died with him and the grandkids around her bed. His love and affection for her was clear, as was his sense of loss. Even 9 months later, today actually, that early grief is so present and available to me. I was with him and his family.

After my unsuccessful journey to the frozen food aisle, I drove back home, up the Snowy and Icy road. Going up is so much easier than going down in those conditions.

At 4:20, after feeding the dogs, I took off for Gaetano’s and Jon’s 53rd birthday dinner. Still feeling a little rough, but much better than Thursday night and Friday. Got there about 5:10 after a puzzling traffic delay on i-70 and surprisingly good memory about how to get to the restaurant without navigation aids.

Jon never came. Later he texted an apology. He had gone to sleep around 2 pm and didn’t wake up until 7 in spite of having set the alarm. His medications and illnesses have variable affects on him. This may have been one.

I had a nice meal on my own, testing something I had not realized I needed to. Eating a nice meal without Kate. I enjoyed the food, but the combination of her absence and the cacophony made me not want to repeat that anytime soon.

Same on the way home. I drove back up Brook Forest and Black Mountain. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. Returning from Evergreen at night in the first couple of weeks we were here. Kate and me. I reached over to her seat, held her hand for a while, felt sad.

It was good to get back home to Kep and Rigel, to the new life I’m making here on the mountain.

 

Seven of Bows

“This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” The Wildwood book

This is my journey right now. Pruning. Reshaping relationships. Leaning into the good ones. Ameliorating the effects of the not so good ones. Remaking the physical space here. Refining my life over all.

That’s Sick!

Samain and the waxing Winter Solstice Moon

©willworthingtonart

Friday gratefuls: Tom’s visit. Happy Camper. Cutthroat Cafe. Tradition! Lunch with Marilyn and Irv at Aspen Perks. Bowe and his helper. Lower cabinets in place. Microwave up and plugged in. Sink in but non-functional. Appliances back in place. Stove and frig working. Herme is in the house. It will be a while before he gets hung. Snow. Maybe an inch or so.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friendship. Ancient brothers.

Tarot: Ten of Vessels, happiness. wildwood

 

Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls Museum of Art

Feeling crummy. Tom flew all the way out here and I couldn’t go to dinner last night with him. Slight nausea, mild headache, and felt like headed toward more and worse. Stayed in, went to bed early. This morning a bit of a stuffy nose, a little off. But not worse. Maybe a stomach thing, a bit of food poisoning? Or, something I got from grandson Gabe?

I’ve not been ill since a round of pneumonia in 2019. Well, except for the persistent cancer and post-polio and… That’s significant when you consider the stress of caring for Kate over just those intervening years. I consider myself a pretty healthy person, bracketing the afore mentioned, of course.

Before I skipped dinner though, Tom and I had a full morning. After Bowe and his helper got here to finish installing the bottom cabinets, Tom came. We decided to go to the Cutthroat Cafe in Bailey for a small breakfast since we were meeting Irv and Marilyn at 11:30 at Aspen Perks.

Met a nice former Wisconsin resident who drives to Bailey from Denver to waitress. She had a kind smile and a happy temperament. We ordered off the Senior menu, which, as Tom pointed out, we were over qualified for since it started at age 65. We spoke as long time friends will, of things near and far in time, of journeys and other friends, family. Hopes and dreams. Fears. The food came and went, more coffee.

The Cutthroat

During the week the Cutthroat is the only breakfast place in Bailey. Locals and tourists alike. On the weekend the Rustic Station has breakfast and its fabulous heavy cream pancakes. But the Happy Campers’ Happy Hour, with 20% off all purchases, is only available during the week. That means I rarely get to the Rustic Station.

Tom and I bought Cheeba Chews Indica and a new Cheeba Chews product, Sweet Dreams. Indica plus cbd and melatonin. Tried it last night and it worked well for me. I needed the sleep, too.

Pine Junction (about half way between Conifer and Bailey)

The drive from Conifer to Bailey goes up and down Mountains, through Valleys with Mountains in front and in back, down other Valleys with Mountains filling the view, often covered in mist or clouds far away. As 285 runs past King’s Valley, where Marilyn and Irv live, the Continental Divide comes into view. It’s far away, in South Park, past Fairplay. At this time of year it is often, as it was yesterday, Snow covered.

We had a delightful lunch with Marilyn and Irv. Bringing together the two important friendship groups in my life: The Woolly Mammoths and Congregation Beth Evergreen. We talked about Robert Bly and the men’s movement, the formation of the Woollies, its endurance over time. Multiverses, too. Quantum mechanics. Books. Like the Midnight Library which Irv had listened to.

Home of the Master Benders who created Herme

When Tom and I got back to Shadow Mountain, we opened the back door of Ruby and took Herme out. Downstairs on the Stickley table. I lit him up for Tom. Rigel and Kep looked on wondering what those silly humans are up to now?

I had Tom clip on Roger. Sitting in the passenger seat presents my left ear to the driver, my nonfunctional left ear. With Roger clipped to Tom’s vest I could hear him. When I clip it on somebody now, I joke saying at least this time Roger will go home with someone I know if I forget him. As I did at Gaetano’s.

Sure enough. As Tom pulled out of the driveway, I heard a familiar ping. Roger was getting away! I ran out after Tom, but he didn’t see me. Fortunately, a guy in a pick up saw me and flagged Tom down. Roger came home.

After I got up from my nap, I began to feel off. Just not quite right. Stomach, head. That dissonant sense when the body’s no longer in homeostasis. I held off messaging Tom as long I could, but finally I had to say no. I can’t do it tonight. A shame since he’s here and I see him in person rarely. Still. Illness is no respecter of persons or calendars.

Covid. The first thing that ran through my mind. Nope. No fever. No respiratory involvement. An intestinal critter of some sort, I guess.

Quartzite fabricator comes today. Measuring. Then, a lull in the action while Brian finishes the upper cabinets and the cabinet doors and the quartzite gets cut. It will be close, but I think we’ll make Christmas. I’m excited about reorganizing the kitchen, cooking in it. An ongoing treat.