Category Archives: Mountains

Out of my head

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Monday gratefuls: My Ancient Brothers. There when I need them. Mindfulness. Mindemptiness. Mindoutofthewayness. Struggling with family. Diane. The Redwoods. Overstory. Tired of struggling with family. Snow melting. Rain and Snow today and tomorrow. Go precipitation! Blood draw for thyroid hormone levels. Evergreen. Eco-kashrut. CBE. Acting. Waving good-bye to Kabbalah for now.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gabe

Tarot: pathway spread  eight of vessels, rebirth. nine of stones, tradition. four of bows, celebration.

 

Dropped out of my kabbalah class. Keeping me in my head, as I said. Want away from that right now. Acting class pushes me out of my head, even out of my ego. What I need. Keeping the Astrology class because, well, I really don’t know why. Completist I guess. This is the third and last one for the year.

 

Blood draw this morning for my tsh levels. Will determine if Kristi needs to up my dose. I hope so because I want my energy level back to normal. It’s much better, but I still hit a drag in the early to late afternoon. Kristi’s also ordered a lipid panel. We’re trying for low, low cholesterol numbers. Vascular disease.

Taking care of myself. Sometimes it seems like a full time job. It was for Kate. However. I feel good. Cancer managed for now. Better energy. A fine new doctor. Breathing issues not progressive. Manageable.

Living in the Mountains has gotten me out on the trails. Looking forward to continuing and even increasing that. Getting 3-5 hours of exercise in each week. That’s enough for me. More would be better, but I’m not interested in giving it that much time.

 

A little low this morning. Struggles with family. So tired of it. My tarot spread this morning was about it. Won’t call this stuff out here, but I’m weary of revisiting old issues and saddened by a new one.

Had me missing Kate, somebody who loves me. Right here. With me. That’s a response to the weariness I know. A real longing, however.

Gonna have breakfast at the Bread Lounge after my blood draw. Cheer myself up.

 

Overstory is a great read. Trees, green things. Living together in community. Communicating, healing each other, feeding each other. Trees. Dogs. That is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know. Amen.

 

Mediterranean diet working. Slow adoption, but it’s happening. Considering becoming a pescatarian. Not for ethical reasons, or at least not only for ethical reasons. I want to simplify my food choices. Cutting out chicken and red meat would help. Also, that cholesterol thing.

Quite a bit of simplifying going on in my life right now. Feels right.

 

 

 

 

 

Snow and, well, more Snow

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Snow. Fire repressing Snow! Well over a foot so far. Still Snowing. Generator kicked on. Then off. Then on. Bear was right. It was a glitch last time. Lodgepoles unloading their branches. A Snowplosion! Kep wading through the Snow. Eating it. All this on May 21st. Now the generator is off again. Electricity back full house. And off. Generator back on. Mountain living.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

 

Did not go upstairs. Writing in the house. That fall three weeks ago has made me cautious. Even though I have my magic button to summon help. Prefer not to have to. Besides, this is a freaky deaky Storm. Not many like this since I’ve lived up here. Still Snowing.

Kep jumps in the Snow, plows his way back to the far fence. Pokes around. Pees. Comes back to the door. A bit confused. Not going upstairs, Dad? Those Akita prefecture Mountain genes kick in during these big Snows.

Now we’re both on my level, I’m writing.

 

And, oops. I have to go upstairs for a minute. My meds are up there. This gets complicated. The levothyroxine has made me move my morning meds upstairs because of the one-hour delay after I take it. Gonna get Snow in my boots.

Lights flickering. Generator has gone on and off at least four times in the past thirty minutes. I have the boiler heat going since the mini-splits are not on the generator panel. This gets complicated, too.

I’ll be back in a moment. Got to carefully slog up stairs. Chemo is in those meds. Geez.

 

Upstairs. Realized the mini-split in the loft is on the garage panel. That means the generator does feed it. Warm loft. Warm loft good. Chemo taken. That feels better. Not afraid of dying. But. Not eager for it either. Liking this Herme life.

I’ll stay up here and finish this post. Then downstairs for Word and Deed. A Rabbi Jamie riff on the parsha of the week, Ben-Har. Leviticus 25:1-26:2. Interesting parsha since it introduces shemitah, a sabbath for the land every 7 years and a sabbath for ownership of the land and slaves every 49 years, the Jubilee year. And links them to the weekly sabbath. It so happens that September 7, 2021 to September 25th, 2022 is a shemitah year.

An observant Jewish farmer will let his crops go for the year. He may eat from whatever grows on its own, but he cannot sell it or trade it. Also, anyone can come and share his crop during the shemitah year. Here’s a group that advances this idea, Hazon.

 

Yesterday I read. More Connie Zweig, The Inner Work of Aging, The Hidden Order of Intimacy by Avivah Zomberg, and Overstory by Richard Powers. This last one some of you have read. I’m finding it a quick and great read. About trees and the stories they witness.

I also worked out. Treadmill. Boy, were my legs complaining. Those two days on the trails were good, but they used my legs muscles in different ways. A lot more juking and jiving to retain balance, up and down inclines. Really good workout, but hoo. Glad I have a bye on the weekend. Legs need the rest.

 

Reading more and more as Herme begins to find his sea legs in this new voyage. From here to eternity. Hah. Look for the occasional Herme update about life and aging and truth from his perspective.

Also did my first sumi-e piece in over a year. Felt good. May do more today. Getting up here wasn’t hard. Just messy. We’ll see about going down. Right now.

 

 

 

 

Snow and Trails

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

BTW: Beltane signals the start of the growing season. Here’s today’s forecast after record heat on Shadow Mountain yesterday. Mountain weather! I’m in the orange. And, it’s snowing like crazy at 8:30 am.

 

 

art@willwordsworth

Friday gratefuls: Snow. Fire suppressing Snow! Cool weather. Heat. Hikes in between. Maxwell Creek. Maxwell Falls. Time shifting. Bedtime. Connie Zweig. Life Review. Did I mention Snow? Kep the clean and wonderful. Mussar. Plays. Theater. The Beatles. Shabbat. Gut shabbas. Mindy’s knishes. That Belgian Malnois who saved his momma from a Mountain Lion. And got his skull crushed, but survived. The Ancient Mindful Brothers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

Tarot: Eight of Bows, Hearthfire

“We celebrate the fact that we have endured, survived, and developed under tribal support and companionship. This is a time to be grateful, express, and receive love. It is also an emotional state, which implies: “I maintain the fire that strengthens these relationships and I am grateful for the love that exists in life.” tarotx.net

Perfect. Herme loves the eight of bows.

 

OK. No. Not changing my name. I’m adopting Herme as an Elder persona. Living into my truth as a fourth phase guy. Herme may speak here from time to time. He may write, too. If you want to address the elder in me, he’ll respond. Think of him as an avatar carrying the essence of the journey from birth to 75. And now reshaping us (me) into a vessel for the final journey.

Herme reminds me I Live in the Mountains. Herme reminds me I’m Living Alone with a Crowd. Introverted, but connected to family, friends, CBE. A soul name.

 

Did my second trail day yesterday. Maxwell Falls. About a mile from here. Gonna hit a trail twice a week for exercise. Three times a week, treadmill and weights. The trails are good for balance work. Mostly they’re good for Living in the Mountains. Pine Trees, Rock. Wild things.

Here’s a few pics:

 

 

 

 

Introducing Herme

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Burning Bear Creek. Park County #60. A clean Kep. Geneva Creek. The hike. Good exercise. Outside. In the Mountains. The scent of Lodgepole Pines. Sweet. The sound of Snow Melt throwing itself down Geneva Creek. The Marmoset. The Raccoon. Those molting young Mule Deer Does near the Lariat Lodge. Hamish. Working on Alfieri and Eddie in View from the Bridge. 9:30 to bed. Up at 7:10. Shift already happening.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marmosets and Raccoons

Tarot: #8, The Stag

“The Stag is a metaphorical image for the treasure of knowledge in the universe, where the energy of creativity awakens every human soul.” tarotx.net

 

Kep emerged from Award Winning Pet Grooming shiny and sweet smelling. Grinning. He jumped up on me. Thanks for not forgetting me, Dad! He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met. The longtime owner there. He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met, too, but my experience is limited to Kep, Murdoch, and for a moment, Kya.

Living in the Mountains continues today. Exercise at Maxwell Creek. I’ll see what it’s like at 9 am or so. Probably nobody. Which is what I want. Gonna start checking for lonely trails somewhere nearby. Even when working out I’m an introvert. A big reason I have my own home gym.

 

Shedding, like an Akita blowing his coat, my old Self. Letting him go, rushing toward the River feeding the Collective Unconscious. He’ll always be there if I need him. He served me well over the last seven years, but it’s time to let the fourth phase me, the post-Kate me have his day.

He’s a dig-in to this world deeper guy. A Living in the Mountains guy. Really see this wonder in which I live. He’s a Traveling Alone with a Crowd guy. Herme is his name.

Instead of looking to go far he’s looking to go in and down, as has been my journey since I left the church over thirty years ago. Slipped away some in the Colorado years. Renewing that journey while rethinking transcendence. I get the need to move beyond ego, but I’m not sure transcendence is the right metaphor. Rolling this around right now.

Rather than looking to go far Herme wants to investigate the close-by, the near. In his heart. In his inner world. In the Mountains near his home. In Evergreen and CBE. In family and friends. On Shadow Mountain. In his sumi-e brush.

Herme wants to move on the Elder’s path. Finding his power. Communicating his truth gathered. No longer pounding the world with his fist. No longer seeking distant lands unless inhabited by family. Not seeking success in anything. Living in the World as he lives in the Mountains as his World.

Herme appreciates the lessons of suffering. But no longer wants to live with them as a primary identity. Cancer will be what cancer is with the treatments available. Jon and the kids will resolve their issues from the divorce or not; Herme will remain in their lives. Kate will be of blessed memory.

Farewell old man. You served me well, but it’s time for a new phase.

 

 

Living in the Mountains

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Wednesday gratefuls: Kep. Grooming today. A hike while he’s stylin’. Diane. Arthur Miller. Neil Simon. Clifford Odets. Eugene O’Neil. Thornton Wilder. American theater. August Wilson. The Bard, of course. Those Greeks. The well-made play. Bernard Shaw. Dancing at Lughnasa. Saw it in London. Playwrights. David Mamet. Learning. Stretching new muscles. Old muscles, really. Really old muscles.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Living in the Mountains

Tarot: Three of Vessels, Joy

“The ability to connect directly with inspiration allows renewed and re-initiated energies to flow through you, and it is a gift from creation. The ability to lead a life of joy, praise, and gratitude, as if it is an unexpected gift we share, will be a unique blessing. That gift is also acknowledged by people who feel the warmth we are spreading.” tarotx.net

 

I’m done with kabbalah for the moment. Will finish astrology class because I’m learning now. Maybe glimpsing what others see. After three semesters. Slow, dude. Slow.

Energy shifting. Realizing I kept myself in my head with the Sefer Yetzirah classes. Not that I don’t love it there. I do. But this one hasn’t fed me. I want deeper connections. To art. To friends. To family. To Shadow Mountain. To Colorado. No. I need deeper connections. Acting class feeds that part of me. Also, reading plays.

Gonna try moving my bedtime. Maybe in 15 minute increments. Aiming for 10 pm. Up at 7:00-7:30. Leave a better opening for night time activity. Not always shocking myself with sleep deprivation when I go to Nocturne or Dazzle for a jazz evening.

Also, as I said yesterday, for services at CBE, for acting class. For dining out.

 

Kep goes to Bailey today for his regular grooming. A life without dog hair in the house! Well, without LOTS of dog hair. Yes. Seems to work. The groomer suggested an eight week schedule.

While he gets beautifuler, I plan a hike at this place. Burning Bear East Trail. 

Why? Want to get out outside more. And, I love the name. Burning Bear. Wonder what the story is? The trail follows Burning Bear Creek. I’ll take pictures. Need sun screen, my camelpack, and my hiking boots.

 

Back from Bailey, Burning Bear Creek. Never found the trailhead. I went about 7 miles up a Park County road, #60, that goes deep into the Pike National Forest. Not sure why I missed it, but I did. After I got back on 285 I drove to the Guanella Pass and found the trail’s eastern head about 6 miles up the pass.

Living in the Mountains. Gonna be a new motto for me. Like living in the move when we first transitioned to the Rockies. Various things blocked my getting out and hiking in the Mountains. Cancer. Kate’s illness. Nearby trails crowded or too steep for my impaired diaphragm. Sure, they’re excuses, but they have also been real barriers.

The result of all these barriers over the last seven years is that I (we) lived on a Mountain, but rarely in the Mountains. We lived in the Front Range. The extended Denver metro. Still wonderful but far, far from all that’s here.

Not anymore. As I drove up Park County #60 here are a few of the things I saw:

 

 

 

 

 

The last four pictures feature Beaver modified terrain. The last picture, a bit hard to identify, has the dam, a big one about 2/3’s of the way up from the bottom.

A Marmoset crossed my path looking like a fat Old West accountant scurrying off to his goose-quill and raised desk. On Monday night coming home from Evergreen I saw a very healthy Raccoon slipping off the road and into the Marsh.

Seeing animals, healthy animals. Yes.

What I realized was that up every country road that heads up into the Mountains contains some version of this. Every trail that heads into them, too. And I’ve not been out there.

I’m not as able as I was when I got here. I huff and puff a lot more, but it’s good for me. When I lived in Andover, I did a lot of my exercise outside. County Parks. A trail behind the new library. Winter and Spring and Fall. Summer usually inside. Air conditioning.

Anyhow. Living in the Mountains. Traveling Alone. (With a crowd.)

I did find the Geneva Creek Trail. Hiked it for 30 minutes.

 

Uncomplicated

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Fosamax. Levothyroxine. Erleada. Orgovyx. Prostate cancer. Kristie. Kristen. Medical knowledge. Doctors. Kate, always Kate. Diaphanous gowns. Good job on the ABD, Kenton. Love in sign language. Life review. Pruning. Proceeding.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sumi-e

Tarot: Six of Bows, abundance

“…the Six of Bows asks us to consider where we have struggled and worked hard in our lives and what abundance we have gained as a result. Now…is the time to give thanks for these blessings of abundance – what do you have to be thankful for? How will you share your blessings?” tarotx.net

 

Over the last year and a month I’ve struggled with grief. Struggled not because it was bad, but because it was necessary. Kate meant and means the world to me. One of her friends recently told me Kate felt the same way about me. That was a sweet and precious moment.

Over the last week since her yahrzeit at CBE I’ve been having a desire to finish spreading her ashes. This time by myself, early in the morning. Maxwell Creek. I’ll leave some to be mixed with mine when the time comes. But the rest, on its way to the World Ocean. Feels like the right time. And something I need to finish alone.

Grief never ends. Not sure if that’s true. Grief for Mom has subsided to remembrance. Of course, her death was 58 years ago. I may not have time to come to the same resolution with Kate’s death. Although.

My grief about Mom was hard. I remembered her telling me I’d made her cry at Christmas. At 17 I’m sure I did. Her death came like a lightning bolt into our lives. It did not draw us together, but at least for me it sundered family ties.

Complicated grief. Painful and filled with regret. It took alcoholism and years of analysis to right the boat. By that time I was two marriages into my 30’s. I finally bobbed to the surface in my late 30’s. Right around, come to think of it, when I lost the hearing in my left ear.

Grief for Kate has none of those elements. No regrets save for one which I’ve mentioned and which I’ve worked through with the help of Sarah, Diane, and Rebecca.

The main intensifier not a complication. I finally met and married a woman while I was sober. One of a kind, as a note from Bond and Devick said. Yes, she was. We were for each other always and until the end. In fact past the end since I know her love for me gives me the freedom to live this next phase of my life in my own way. She also left me the resources to do it.

Knowing that makes the grief more bittersweet. More poignant. More filled with gratitude for her life, our life together, and my life now.

As the six of bows suggests, this struggle has been hard, but it has left me with abundance. A heart filled with love. And chesed. A life filled with love and family. Good friends. A good home and a good dog. In the Rocky Mountains. Sharing the abundance comes easily to me. As it always did to Kate.

How do I feel?

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Sunday gratefuls: Kya. Diaphanous gowns. Road trips. Aging. Rachelle. Mennonites. High Plains. Snow covered Mountains. Timidity. I’m in no rush; I have plenty of time. Travel. The Rockies. Their vastness. Mr. Burro Cafe. Hwy. 285, the road to Taos and Santa Fe. Taking no for an answer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rachelle

Tarot: Nine of Stones, Tradition

 

 

Oh, the learning I had. Followed Ode’s blue SUV south on Hwy 285, stopping before Del Norte at Cty. road D. A right turn to littlebear Akitas. 3 hours plus from Conifer. Another hour or so and I’d I’ve been in Taos. This trip was for Kep though. Finding him a girlfriend, a companion. Kya.

Found myself along the way. I’m in no rush; I’ve got plenty of time. Usually when some driver rushed past me even though I was at the speed limit or 5 mph over. It hit me. That’s true. I’m in no rush. I do have plenty of time. I spent most of my adult life being in a rush. Hurrying. Making sure I was on time or early. No more.

The end is out there, sure. Even so. If it’s tomorrow, I still have plenty of time and am in no rush. In this moment I can find all the life I need. This ichi-go ichi-e moment. Not only is it unrepeatable and unique, it is eternity. And, since I’m experiencing it I’m in no rush and have plenty of time.

A profound learning for me.

 

Taking no for an answer. Rachelle is a 35 year old Mennonite woman, as strong and resolute as the High Plains on which she lives. Kya, the 9 year old Akita female she thought might be a good fit with Kepler was as sweet as she described. A real keeper. Except for Kepler.

Rachelle got her first Akita when she was 18 and has been raising them for 17 years. She knows the breed. I’ve had one Akita. Her judgment is better than mine. We spent an hour or so trying to get them to interact. Kep expressed interest. Kya kept wandering away, not to be bothered.

A few times Kep growled at her. She ignored it. According to Rachelle, Akita females are dominant. If she had rolled Kep over and he accepted it, we could have a different ending. But she didn’t. And he was ornery.

“Fear is the hardest to work with. An over confident dog, yes, a sensitive one like Kepler. Very hard.” In the end we both decided it was too risky. I did not want a Kepler-Murdoch moment on the way home. While I was driving.

After meeting Rachelle, I had an insight into why evangelicals look so hard for biblical warrant for wives submitting to husbands. Rachelle and her sisters are like Akitas.

No, I told Rachelle, is as important and significant an answer as yes. Realized I’ve learned that. Felt good. Not jamming experience into the shape you prefer. Seeing what you see. Acting on that.

 

The road trip. Hwy. 285 is a magical mystery tour. Leaving Conifer on it for points south with names like Fairplay, Saguache, Buena Vista, Del Norte, Taos, Santa Fe takes you first through the Platte River Valley, then up the 11,000 foot Kenosha Pass. While descending from that height, the High Plains of South Park spread out for miles ahead of you protected by ranges of Snow topped Mountains. South Park is at 9,000 feet or more.

Breckenridge lies about 20 miles north of Fairplay over Hoosier Pass. Leadville, a storied mining town is a little further north from Buena Vista where 285 turns due south toward New Mexico. Until Buena Vista 285 parallels I-70.

At Buena Vista the Collegiate Range towers in the near west. Part of the Sawatch Range the Collegiates are some of the highest Mountains in the Rockies. Mt. Harvard, at 14,427 feet is the tallest. Mt. Princeton. Mt. Yale. Mt. Oxford. Mt. Columbia. Grand and massive. Still with Snow.

From there 285 turns south and the Mountain Ranges are in the east and west. Tried to feel the spirits of the place. The strong Yang of the Mountains overlooks the strong Yin of Valleys and Plains. Snow and Ice transform the Yang of the Mountains into the Yin of Soil and Streams and Rivers. They look separate, but the Plains and the Mountains are a whole. Transforming one into the other. Protecting. Nourishing.

The Plains on which 285 runs toward Del Norte where Rachelle lives is still at 8,000 feet. Windy. Wind swept. Trees with bows and branches shaped as by a topiarists hand.

Practicing my acting class warmup on this portion of the drive I said: How do I feel? Awed. How do I feel? Achy and tired. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Blessed. How do I feel? Loved. How do I feel? Excited. How do I feel? Glad to be on the road.

 

 

 

 

 

A Simpler Heart

Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

2019

Sunday gratefuls: Pesach. Chag Sameach. Easter. Ramadan. All together now. A time of high Winds. High Fire danger. Liberation. Resurrection. Revelation. Spring. Nowruz. Ostara. Beltane. The birth of Lambs. The Greening of Grasses and Trees. Blooming of Flowers. Bees hard at work. Snow and Cold in the Rockies. The fallow season becoming a distant memory. Fresh Milk. Seeds in the Ground. (not in Minnesota or up here.) Life triumphs. For now.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

 

The second day of Passover yesterday. Tell me that old, old story of Pharaoh and his slaves. Saw it on Zoom. Broadcast live from Congregation Beth Evergreen. Was gonna go. Got Covid feet at the last minute. Fear makes prisoners of us all. Also. Didn’t know what to wear. I don’t have fancy clothes. Well, I do. I don’t like to wear them. Jeans and plaid shirts. An LL Bean vest. That’s the outer decor. With a pair of Keens.

When I watched Rabbi Jamie go through the haggadah with the gathered (smallish) crowd in the sanctuary at Beth Evergreen, I both wished I was there and was glad I wasn’t. This is a long service. A couple hours until the meal.

I stayed with it both out of a sense of obligation these are my people after all and out of a desire to re-member an ancient tale of liberation. An ancientale of authoritarian rule and those who broke away from it. The ancient and lonely trail of trying to lose the slave mind, to take life in your own hands and live it responsively and responsibly.

It’s not easy being free. It takes work. Every day. Get food. Maintain health. Love family. And the Pharaoh’s of our day want their slaves to have just enough money to buy the things Pharaoh wants them to. Just enough to have some food, be healthiesh, maybe maintain a family. Buy gas, processed foods, over the counter remedies, pay rent.

Then there’s the lower caste. The people of the street. Who are either can’t or won’t play the Pharaoh’s game. Who suffer from mental illness, addiction, loneliness.

Those with privilege can navigate past the Scylla of money and the Charybdis of social expectations. Yet even most of the privileged founder anyhow. Crushed between the jaws of earning and wanting to fit in.

Judaism knows this in its traditions and works to keep the freedom. It’s hard though even for ones who know the true difficulty of the journey from Egypt through the Reed Sea and those days years in the desert and hardest of all-gaining the Promised Land.

 

Christianity went off on a tangent about mortality and its pain. Solved through a resurrected God who would take us all with him someday. Beautiful metaphor, resurrection. Death is not the end. Ain’t no grave can hold my body down. A little creepy in its bodies zipping up from cemeteries, or taken whole out of life in the rapture.

There’s a liberation message there, too. But you have to work to find it, embrace it, follow it. Would have been better without the sin. Making it seem that resurrection needed earning. By not doing this or that. Rather than by following a path. A via negativa toward heaven. Born good? Nope. Born bad. Work to put away the stain of the Eden rebellion. Wash, wash, wash the stain away. Shout it out!

 

We can take this wonderful wakin’ up morning and realize that death does not define us. We can take this pesach and gain our freedom. The resources of these two great faiths are available to us, but they come with so much damned baggage. So much institutional hoohah.

Even so. I’ll stand with those who find death only a part of the journey. I’ll stand with those who know Pharaoh lives in our own heart and the journey lies in turning him from dictator to collaborator.

Sure. I believe those things. They’re important.

 

I have a simpler heart I’ve learned. One not so enmeshed. I recognize the wonder, the miracle of elemental creation. I see the Sun and its life-giving power. I feel Mother Earth under my feet, responsive to my hands, bearing all I need for this life, the one right here, right now. Ichi-go, Ichi-e. I see the moon in the darkness. I feel its gentle lunar power ripping whole oceans from here to there.

I do not need to go further than these. I do. But I do not need to. I could live happily with giving only them reverence. With realizing awe only in their presence. With letting them think about my afterlife. About Kate’s.

Death and life. Oppression and liberation. Yes. Important, big questions. Journeys of a lifetime. But, too. Following the water course way. Living life as it comes, letting it flow beneath and around and with our feet, our body, our heart, our mind. I’ll flow with the Taoist while I stand with those others and their ways. Seems strange I know, but that’s the spot I’ve come to for right now.

 

 

Wait

Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

Friday gratefuls: Luke. CBE. The Thursday mussar group. Gracie and Leo, two dogs also learning mussar. Kep, the sweet boy. David Sanders. Being where I need to be. Taking a breath. Or, two. To Speak for the Trees. Ancient Celtic wisdom. Relevant today. Thanks, Tom. The Lodgepoles and the Aspens on this property. The Willows along Maxwell Creek. The Bristlecone Pine on Mt. Evans.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Authenticity

 

 

Not quite done with David Sanders. Close, though. The result may be, probably will be, I’m doing fine. Things will be good with my heart and my life. This meshes well with my levothyroxine boosted energy level, the coming of spring.

Punta Arenas, Argentina 2011

Even Kate’s yahrzeit though a sad memory does signal a year’s worth of time to integrate her loss. Time I’ve used as best I can. The grief has not passed, nor do I expect it to. Or, want it to. That sudden welling of tears has a direct heart link with her, with our marriage, with our love. I imagine the intensity of those moments will continue to diminish, but I don’t expect them to disappear.

As I explained earlier, due to the Jewish leap year her Jewish yahrzeit will not happen until May 1st. This April 12th though I’m lighting two 24 hour yahrzeit candles, one for her and one for our marriage. There is that third aspect of our life together, our usness, our mutual decision making, the frisson of our days and nights, the interactivity and mutuality, that also perishes.

No longer do we have a money meeting that parses our financial life. No longer do we consider how to celebrate our anniversary. Whether to go on another cruise. Hold hands in the car. Sleep together. Agonize over illness, celebrate joyfully for our grandchildren, children, dogs. Dead, too. And, grieved. I lost my partner. My best buddy.

Ushuaia, Southern most town in the Americas. 2011

My soulmate. Yes, corny as that phrase is. Yes. We helped each other grow. Consoled each other in tough times. Had the best interests of the other at heart. When I made a bad turn right in front of an oncoming car, I dithered about whether I should be driving. “Any one could have done that.” Oh.

Death has such finality. No do overs. No matter how much desired. I thought I already knew that, but no. I had to learn it again.

 

Sorta strayed from the main point there. Though not without good reason. Part of my question about what comes next lies entangled with the process of grieving. But not all. Not even most. It is my life, no matter the thread of sorrow now woven into it.

Feeling more confident about emergence. That as I live into the redone house, a less restricted post-Covid life (will it ever be really over?), when I feel my way into new possibilities as they become apparent, that the new, an extension of the old, of course, how can it not be, will declare itself. Might be a quiet embrace. Could be a noisy clamoring. Look what I’m up to now! Don’t know. Will, as Seoah would say, wait and see. Wu wei.

 

A word about To Speak for The Trees. This book, which I discovered after reading an article forwarded by Tom Crane, feels like a hook, a wu wei moment. Oh, yes. Celtic thought. I’d forgotten. Laid it aside. Yet here is this woman, about my age, Diana Beresford-Kroger, recounting her immersion in the Celtic life in Lisheen, Ireland. And how that immersion fed her life as a scientist, as a keeper of rare trees. How it might still feed us all.

Stirrings. Threads. Links. Weaving themselves again, still, into my days. I await guidance. With no expectations. Giving it over to the days as they come and go. Waiting.

What Then?

Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. Thanks to folks we maybe never got around to. David Scruton, first anthropology professor. Bill and Gloria Gaither, high school teachers who’ve gone on to, well, glory. And lotsa cash. Bob Lucas, my boss at the Presbytery back in the day. Sent two off, the third later this morning. Gratitude is never out of time. Energy still good. Blood work tomorrow. Oncologist a week from today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gratitude

 

Energy remains up. And, surprisingly, the shortness of breath I would get from moving around without much exertion is gone, too. Guess that thyroid is pretty important. Getting things done.

As I get them done, I wonder what will happen when I’m finished. What then? I’ll have a remodeled kitchen, a more comfortable and usable common room with art where I want it. My space downstairs will be finished. The loft organized.

Beginning to suspect that all this work, though welcome and delightful, has been a distraction. Or, perhaps better, a way to process grief through physical changes. As Kate’s yahrzeit approaches and the weather tries to be springlike, as the common room, the kitchen, and my level move closer to the finish line, I feel like I’m going to hit a moment of so much freedom that I will be overwhelmed.

After the big do in April, I’m going to head off into Colorado for some road trips. I need to get offa this mountain, down where the air is thicker, and go from here to there. I have a list, one Jackie, my hair stylist, and I came up with last fall.

It includes Marble, Gunnison, Dinosaur National Monument, Royal Gorge, Sand Dunes National Park, Grand Junction, and visiting hot springs. Not all on one trip of course. Four Corners is another. Then there’s hopping over to Utah.

In mid summer I’m heading to Hawaii. I plan to be there over Seoah’s birthday which is on July 4th. Do something patriotic with the new citizen and her spouse. Might try to visit my sis in Japan later in the year, then hop over to Taipei for the National Museum.

This week David Sanders and I will discuss his thoughts on what I might be up to next. Could be more of the same, I suppose. Could be more intentional. Writing. CBE work. Paint. Entertain. Could be something I’m not planning on right now.

Class reunion in September, maybe. Visit Minnesota on the way there or the way back.

Actually I have no idea what I’m doing right now. Putting one foot in front of the other, doing this and that with Kep and the family, with CBE. Waiting, too. Sadness and grief occupy some time as well.

Life. Going on. As it does.