Category Archives: Mountains

Great Wheel, Health, Kabbalah, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

No Rage Against This Machine

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Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Rocky Mountain Cancer Care. Tarot. Kabbalah. Positron Emission Tomography Scans. In a trailer. Axumin. Drugs. Benzo. Air purifiers. Purified Air. Rarified air. 8800 feet. Living in the Mountains. On a Mountain. Alan. Tesla.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Axumin tracer

Tarot:  Eight of Pentacles

 

Boy did I relax. Took the benzodiazepine. Slept 3 hours and 40 minutes when I got home. Got up at 7 pm and the dogs hadn’t been fed. They were lying in the family crate with me, willing to let me sleep. Calmed me way down.

Not sure it helped much with the scan. I’d read the wrong information about the scan. I read the information for a PET scan where the wait after injection of the radioactive tracer is an hour. In the case of the axumin scan? No waiting. After injection the axumin travels to the prostate bed, the most important site for the scan. Right away. They want you in there soonest. Oh.

I popped the small pill and waited. I think they had mischeduled my scan. The main tech was in a bit of a hurry. She slipped the butterfly IV in my right arm. Said she’d be back in a bit. She was. About five minutes later she injected the axumin and I went into the bed of the trailer for a lie down.

Oh. Yeah. This is the newest PET scan machine. The latest and greatest according to the tech. Just got it in April. We had to walk through the receiving bay for ambulances, out into the parking lot. Sure enough, a long white tractor trailer sat on a stretch of asphalt behind the main building.

Watch the stairs. The handles are loose. They were. It felt like going up the steps to a carnival attraction. Step right up, see the amazing, the latest, the greatest, PET Scanner!

Lying on the curved bed of the scanner, knees up on a naugahyde triangular pillow, after the techs had left the room, I remembered. Hey, hey. My hearing aid! They came and got it. No metal in the machine.

The bed wiggles a bit when it moves but otherwise goes forward and backward smoothly and precisely. Gotta get the right parts to the scanner. I closed my eyes, the benzo had not yet taken affect. The bed moved. I opened my eyes.

Oops. Closed them again. I was in the middle of the tunnel, surrounded on all sides by curved metal. Just the thing that triggers my claustrophobia. I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m ok. I talked myself down though the urge to crawl out of the tunnel and run away was strong. Gradually the drug began to work and I calmed down. Took about twenty minutes, maybe a bit more.

Now, somewhere, stored in bits and bytes, the current story of my prostate cancer has visual imagery. In the next couple of days a radiologist trained in the dark art of reading such images will make a report. If there’s nothing urgent (I don’t know what that would be.), I’ll get a telemedicine call from Kristie, Eigner’s PA, to go over the results next Tuesday am.

After that, I imagine, will come a referral for radiation. Probably back to Anova Cancer Care in Lone Tree.

I drew, again, the eight of Pentacles. “A time for slow and steady work to fulfill a vision. Focus on one step at a time rather than the final goal.” And, “Whatever your health concern is, right now you need to take a step back and look at the process you are taking.”

A holistic look, a vision for my health, not just cancer, not just post-polio, but my healthspan.

The cancer path has clear steps now and I’m following them: orgovyx comes today. Had the PET scan, await the results and what they suggest. Nothing more to do now. My bone scan is today. See what I need to do for my bone health. The new hearing aid and microphone come on Friday. That will help me, especially as  mask mandates return.

I’ve restarted my exercise routines, gradually building back up to three sets a workout, 15 reps, three days a week. Longer cardio on off days.

My spiritual life (I don’t like the word spiritual, gotta find a better one. It has no there there.), for lack of a better term, continues strong. I am part of the world, part of the natural world, ensnared by entropy. I will return to the earth, dust to dust. That is certain and ok. The Great Wheel turns and I turn with it. Rejoicing in the seasons: of the earth, of my Kate, of myself.

The place I could improve the most is diet. Want to get that kitchen remodeled so I’ll want to cook in it. I need to get better at preparing food for myself rather than going the easy routes of frozen meals or take-out.

One foot. Then another. And, another. The path? The ancientrails? Life. Health. Creativity. Friendship.

 

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Health, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain

Changes

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Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Nancy and Steve. Gazpacho. Alan. Rigel, noisemaker. The back road, Columbine to Dorothy. Ruth. Diane. Fatigue? Cooking. Cooking for someone else. Tarot. Introspection. Wu wei. Te. Tao. Coyote HVAC.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mitzvah

Tarot, a three card draw: past=High Priestess, #2 Major Arcana; present=five of Wands, future=Hanged Man, #12 of the Major Arcana

 

Experienced a lift yesterday cooking. I made a meal for Steve and Nancy, took it over to them. The preparation surprised me by being joyful, grounding. The drive to their house took back roads off of Brook Forest into Mountain Valleys, past homes even further off the beaten track than mine. Delightful. Spent some time talking with them. Again, surprised myself by thanking them for the opportunity to make them a meal. “I’ve received so much love from the congregation, it feels good to give some back.”

Got ingredients for two batches of gazpacho because I want to take some to the new neighbors. They drove a Penske truck up yesterday evening and unloaded it. A semi brought a big pod, Gominni’s, but I don’t think they got started on that. Not up here very long.

A lot of new folks. People cashing out, or, like Holly and Eduardo, moving to new jobs, have created a churn. Must change the demographics because these folks pay a hefty surcharge for their Mountain fantasy, one levied by the hot, hot, hot Denver metro real estate market.

Strange to consider myself an anchor neighbor, but this year’s Winter Solstice will be seven years. I almost wrote for us. Driving to Nancy and Steve’s down Black Mountain Drive toward Evergreen images came of that first week after we got here, Kate and me gingerly navigating the curves downhill to find a restaurant. Sad recollection. It was all full of promise. Grief will have its moments.

Have not gotten back to regular energy level. Thought I would. Not sure why. Grief? Lack of exercise? Something else? If it continues, I’ll have to talk to Dr. Thompson. My sleep has been good. I’m eating well. Exercise has suffered because of my injury at Hickham. That may well be it. I’ll wait a bit until I’ve regained my former exercise level.

Coyote HVAC folks came out. They’ll give me an estimate for mini-split systems. Thanks again, Tom, and your HVAC guy. I asked for three estimates. One: the downstairs two rooms which are my bedroom and the TV/reading/writing room. Two: those two rooms plus the great room upstairs. Three: the loft. I plan to do the downstairs rooms for sure. The rest will be down to budget.

I’ve kept the windows closed for the last three or four days. Thankfully it’s been cool enough to allow that. Amazing. Little trouble with allergies while sleeping. Cements the idea of ac for the downstairs. That way I can keep the window’s closed and have not only cool air, but filtered air while I sleep. Sleep is good.

Changes. The AC. The new hearing aids. Painting the house. And, I’m going to get on the new kitchen after the celebration of Kate’s 77th. Barring medical issues I’m staying put and I want to have as congenial a space as I can afford.

 

 

 

 

Denver, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Tarot, Weather +Climate

The Moon

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Lughnasa and the Moon of Chesed

Sunday gratefuls: New neighbors. Rigel, slow. Kep, eager. Workout yesterday, 20 minutes of cardio. Treadmill. Mac and Cheese. Vacuuming. Video on Akitas. Bad air. Shortness of breath, sleep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breath. Ruach.

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the Major Arcana

 

 

We’re #1! Denver topped the world list of most polluted cities yesterday. Smoke. Bad. Today, also bad. A level of 172 on a scale where 300 marks the start of I can’t breathe! weather. Not a spot we cherish. Better in the Mountains, but not by a lot. Smells like a clothes closet full of worn bonfire apparel.

Not to mention pollen. High yesterday. Fun times in the Arapaho National Forest.

Makes sleeping a challenge for me. I wake up consistently in the early morning with clogged sinuses. I can unclog them with saltwater, but the effort tends to wake me up so far that I have trouble returning to sleep.

Got a glimpse of the new neighbors yesterday. They brought their mountain bikes. Then, left.

Went 20 minutes on the treadmill yesterday. My IT band and the knot over my hip have begun to loosen. Still tight, but better. I can see a return to my old exercise habits in the not too distant future. This has been a tougher recovery than I had imagined. Slow and painful.

Friday and yesterday were domestic days. Doing chores like vacuuming Kep’s hair, brushing him. Again. Still. Making Rigel flee as I came toward her with the brush. Put some more soil in the road divot after traffic pounded down the initial batch.

Attended a session on kosher rules and regs. Virtual. Rabbi Jamie. He’s kosher at home, not necessarily so out. Mordecai Kaplan suggested this. Kosher at home for Jewish tradition, flexible out so dining with others doesn’t stigmatize Judaism.

The kosher rules don’t appeal to me though the notion of conscientious eating does. Hard, though. I find my meat and potatoes Midwestern diet stubbornly persistent. Long ago I added a fruit and a vegetable at most meals, but cutting down on red meat? Not so much. And, I have the vascular disease to prove it.

Big day tomorrow. PSA time. Appointment with oncologist on the 16th. As I’ve written before, this is an important one. After that, I go for a hearing exam. Maybe new hearing aids? Also, house cleaning.

The next day Coyote HVAC comes out to give me a bid for mini-split air conditioning. As pollen and smoke interrupt my sleep, heat, too, this feels like a logical step. At least for the two downstairs rooms. Might get pricey for the rest.

Elul, which begins this evening, is the sixth month of the Jewish lunar calendar. The New Year, Rosh Hashanah, is the first day of the next month, Tishri. It gets two nights of celebration. On the tenth day of Tishri the high holidays end with Yom Kippur, the feast of atonement.

Nissan, the first month of the Jewish year, is in March-April, the beginning of Spring. But. The Jewish year number changes on Rosh Hashanah. Not sure why.

Elul is a month of preparation for repentance and atonement, the central theme of the High Holidays. Chesed, loving-kindess, matters when a period of self-examination like this comes. Especially for your own soul. Treat yourself honestly, but gently.

 

The Moon:  A path runs from the sea, past a Dog and a Wolf howling, through two Stone Monoliths, and on beyond the rise. Perhaps to the Moon itself?

The Moon in a crescent phase shows itself between two curtains of Clouds and above the Monoliths. Mountains are visible in the background. The Coast goes on for some distance beyond the Monoliths and, to the left, a Crab crawls up on land, near the path but still partly in the water.

The overall effect is mysterious, lonely, and eerie. The howling adds to it.

With the Wolf and the Dog evolution has a prominent role, ancient ancestor and modern descendant showing how close they still are. The wild does not leave us. Consider fight or flight. Fear. Peripheral vision. Vasovagal response. Lust.

Both the Sea and the Moon can be metaphors for the subconscious or the unconscious. Perhaps life emerges from the unconscious, travels the path of evolution while retaining a rootedness in the past, then passes on through the gates of death back to a post consciousness existence.

Here’s what the Druid Craft creator says about this card:

Keywords: Psychic awakening. Dreams. Deep revelation of feminine mysteries. Facing Fears. Change. Imagination. Creative work.

“A difficult emotional journey ahead. Any loneliness or confusion you feel will pass as this phase reaches its natural conclusion.”

This feels like one with those cards of last week or so, ones suggesting a time of sadness, perhaps grief, will change in this next phase of my life. The August 18th celebration of Kate’s life will, I hope, mark a change. The retreat idea for the Michaelmas time sits gently in my mind as a time to integrate and incorporate that change into a new life.

May it be so.

 

 

 

Beyond the Boundaries, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Jefferson County, Mountains, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

That Bear!

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Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Friday gratefuls: That bear. Fantastic Fungi. The workout. The fall. Mussar. Chili cheese dogs. A Friday with no appointments. Domestic chores. New neighbors coming. Three in a row. The Tarot. Kabbalah. Shan-shui poetry.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Liberation

Tarot:  Cernunnos, #15 Druid Craft Deck

 

Six and a half years later. Three or four years after Kate. I saw a Bear! A big one. On the same road as I was. And, I was on foot.

Yesterday I did another of my outside cardio workouts. I chose to go around the “block” across Black Mountain Drive from me. A pretty long block as it turned out, about 30 minutes worth. Supposed to be 10, but I had a bad image in my head of the length of the roads.

Krashin went down hill. I’ve recently discovered all the side roads from my stretch of Black Mountain Drive go downhill. Hmm. Must live on the top of Shadow Mountain, eh?

Downhill in Krashin’s instance is toward a deep valley that runs between Shadow Mountain and Black Mountain. The forested valley has no roads, no homes, past the end of a short lane off Krashin. Wild. One or two homes on Black Mountain, perhaps a few more, then over the top of its 10,000 foot peak is the large Staunton State Park. Plenty of critters.

As I shook my head at how little I knew of my own neighborhood, I looked up. The road curved further away from a route back to Black Mountain Drive. A big black Bear ambled across it. Way big. Healthy with lustrous black fur, not in a hurry. Off on a morning errand hunting for food. Then it was gone.

A car came by from the Bear’s direction, slowed to a stop. “Yep. I saw him.” “Good. Just wanted to be sure.” No fooling around when it comes to either Bears or Mountain Lions. Either one can create havoc with the human body.

Being on foot made me vulnerable. I had no bear mace, no bells to ring. I was in shorts and a t-shirt, tennis shoes. Not fighting shape.

So I went on anyhow. Curiosity. That thread I mentioned a few posts back? Often helps me make decisions that are not in my immediate best interest. Where was the Bear? I wanted one more glimpse. Perhaps he hadn’t gone far into the woods. There are homes on both sides of the road, but their properties have many trees.

Couldn’t find him. (I say him because of the size.) I did keep looking, realizing I couldn’t outrun a Bear, they’re fast. Frisson.

During stretching I had started watching Fantastic Fungi, a documentary Tom Crane recommended quite a while ago. What a treat. Made me interested, yet again, in Mushrooms, Lichens. I’ve gone through phases. Ready for another one, I believe. Not only finding edible ones, but becoming more familiar with their roles in forest decomposition, communication. Also, psilocybin. (btw: the documentary is on Netflix.)

Just looked up the Colorado Mycological Society. Looks like fun. Birding? No. Not me. Hunting for Mushrooms? Learning more about them? Yes.

Point here with the Bear? The radical interconnectedness that Mycelium, the underground part of a Mushroom,  a fruiting body for the organism, offers. Mycelium, threadlike, growing one cell at a time, dominate the rich soil layer near the surface. They carry nutrients back to the fruiting body, sure, but they can also transport nutrients between and among groves of trees.

Like Mycelium, the wildlife here are mostly invisible. Once in a while, a sighting. Usually Elk or Mule Deer. The occasional Fox. Marmot, Woodchuck. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Rarely, Bears, Mountain Lions, Lynx, Bobcats. We moved into their habitat and they’ve learned, more or less, to live around us, out of sight, wild. Like the vast underground networks of Mycelium, there are large populations of wild things all around us. At least up here in the Mountains.

We Humans live such sheltered lives, huddled in our right angled dwellings, getting our food from refrigerators and grocery stores, evading the fall of night with electricity. We, at least most of us, know little about how to sleep outside, find food, evade predators. Yet that is the way of wild things.

Cernunnos, #15 of the Major Arcana in the Druid Craft deck.

Cernunnos is the great horned God of the Celtic pantheon. “…the Gaelic god of beasts and wild places. Often called the Horned One, Cernunnos was a mediator (between humans) and nature, able to tame predator and prey so they might lie down together. He remains a mysterious deity, as his original mythos has been lost to history. A God of the Wild.

Given my brief encounter with the Bear and seeing Fantastic Fungi, this card calls to the deep in me. Joseph used to call me nature boy. My mystical feelings run not toward the ineffable, the distant God, but toward the Mycelium that connect us to the Wild life all around us. Cernunnos is the God of those tiny threads, often invisible to us.

People stop their cars to see Elk harems, Mule Deer fawns, a Fox warming itself on asphalt. Why? We don’t stop for dogs, cows, chickens.

That Bear. What a gift I felt seeing him. Why? Rising up from this Elk, that Fox, the Bear is the numinous presence of Cernunnos, the Wild as a dangerous and alien place. We shiver at the sight of creatures who navigate the wild in their daily existence. They are not of our world.*

Tarot commentators find this card intimidating, warning us against dark impulses, becoming enslaved to our wild passions. Not to me. In our sexuality, in our pairs, in our procreation we become one with the wild, perhaps only during the small death of orgasm, but perhaps also through bonding with another human, one of our own species.

These are not dark impulses, rather they are the wild portions of our own soul. Yes, they can scare us, make us do things we regret. Sure. But they can also show us the animal within us, the one who recognizes Cernunnos as its embodiment.

I celebrate the Wild. Cernunnos. Love making. That Bear.

 

 

*We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth. Henry Beston

Aging, Art and Culture, Asia, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Sannyasa

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Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: HVAC mini-splits. Tom. His HVAC guy. Diane. Cousins. Family. Extended and virtual. Claire and her new life. Social Security. Cool morning. Allergies. Ragweed. Chenopods: amaranth, pigweed, waterhemp, russian thistle, lamb’s quarters. Washing machine. Dishwasher. Stove. Refrigerator. Sink. Well. Pump.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The trouble small bits of plant sex can cause

Tarot: Justice, #11 of the Major Arcana

 

Beginning, slowly. Sensing. Too much time in the afternoons. I take this as a good sign. I’m getting what I need to get done in the mornings, my best portion of the day, then I have a larger chunk of time in the afternoon where I feel a bit aimless. Over the last three years, the afternoon and evenings involved caretaking for Kate. So, filled up, always something else to do.

The pruning, the planning for the 18th, the administrative side of taking over all responsibilities, have all begun to yield. Hardly finished, but none of them weigh on me, pushing me, as they had even this last month.

The Musician and the Hermit – Moritz von Schwind

In my life change often comes because I’m bored. Oh, I’ve got time for this, now! Or, what could I be doing with this time? I have a few go to’s: reading and writing at the top of the list every time. Travel, especially close to home. Hiking. Museum going. Eating out. More time with friends.

There is, too, a niggling sensation that I could be doing more. Something more in a justice/climate change/political activism way. And, yes, I could.

But. I’m trying to lean into the life of the sannyasa, the fourth stage of Hindu life, a stage of renunciation, of pursuit of spiritual matters. And, the life of a mountain recluse in the shan-shui tradition of China. Perhaps, for now, a semi-hermetic life. Focused on reading, learning, writing. Self-awareness. Deepening my inner journey.

I’m going to mark September 29, Michaelmass, as a time to focus on whether this will remain my path. A retreat, perhaps. Three days somewhere in the mountains. Seems like a good idea.

Drew the justice card. No big insights today.

But. I did get a letter from Social Security yesterday explaining why they can’t pay me right now. My mistake. I didn’t give a new routing number after I closed the Health Care Credit Union account.

However, I have a call with them on Thursday, long awaited. This will be the one where I claim survivors benefits which will bump my social security up a grand plus. I started this process in April when I informed them of Kate’s death. Lots of getting put off, turned over to someone else.

 

 

*”It can also suggest a frustrating encounter with bureaucracy. If it shows up in your reading in this context, be prepared to navigate some red tape. Get help or advice from someone within the system you’re working in. Stay patient and persistent. This card in a positive position and upright indicates a good outcome.” tarotluv

Family, Feelings, Friends, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

Besties

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Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Monday gratefuls: Ruth. What a sweetheart. Gabe and his puzzles. Jon. Rigel and Kep. The three of swords. Rain, hail. A cool wind and a cool night. Good sleep. Rebecca and p.t. Pruning. Facing front. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

Tarot card: Three of Swords

 

The Ancient ones. The best decisions in our lives. Easy top two: Kate and Joseph. No doubt. Kate for love, for mutuality/intimacy, for discovering the best selves of two injured souls. Joseph for love, for nurturing, for satisfaction of a need to parent, for his wonderful life.

After that came one you might not consider. I decided early on with Kate’s illness that I would do for her what she could not do for herself. And, that I would greet each task with yes in my heart, with love. The depth of that decision was, I think, clear to me at the time. It was a choice to live that part of our lives primarily for her.

The fourth best decision, at least as I ordered them yesterday, was our mutual decision to move to Colorado. We did it to be part of Ruth and Gabe’s life in a meaningful way and to have an adventure in the Rocky Mountains. In unexpected ways, like through the long arc of the divorce and through Kate’s illness, we realized both dreams.

Black Mountain

If you find this idea intriguing, you can help research on big decisions by looking at this website: The Ten Biggest Decisions.

After the Ancient ones (9 am Sunday mornings for me), I worked on pruning. Got almost all of Kate’s jewelry gathered together for Ruth to go through. Did a bit more work in the sewing room, dividing things between the Patchworkers and Ruth. She’ll go through both over the next couple of days, decide what she wants. The rest will go to others: the Patchworkers, Mountain Resource Center, and a consignment shop in Bailey.

In Korea, as Seoah told me, the equivalent is taking the deceased’s clothing and other belongings outside and burning them. I understand this. There is a need to purge the personal items like clothing, jewelry, hobby material. They carry an emotional weight, for some survivors heavy, for some not so much, but there nonetheless. Donating them, burning them. Both honor the significance of the deceased and their choices about what mattered to them in the realm of the very personal.

Later, Ruth and Gabe, Jon, came up. Around 7 pm. Ruth and Gabe will stay today and tomorrow. Ruth has work to do, figuring what she wants as her legacy from her grandma. Gabe, not so much that, but he loves being up here with the dogs and his Grandpop.

I spent a half-hour or so with Ruth, catching up, figuring things out with her for today.

The Three of Swords. Not a happy card. How could it be? A heart pierced with by three sharp blades, rain, and storm clouds. This from Labyrinthos: “This card comes at a time when you need to prepare yourself for this next stage in life. While the grief may be extremely hurtful, it enables you to forget your past and focus on your future knowing that you have control of what actions you take afterwards.”

You might imagine, given Kate’s death, that this card reflects turmoil in my life as a result. Nope. Just not where I am with my grief. I’m in a solid place, integrating Kate into my life without her presence. Working at tasks that move my life forward without regret or shame. I feel good there.

No, this card represents the family member I mentioned earlier. “A harder day yesterday later. A family member and I got crosswise. Yet again. Disturbed me before I got to sleep. Will have to get more clarity about this. Say my piece. Not let it drag me down, too.” This was Saturday.

My upset after the anger this person let out troubled me. A lot. Got in the way of my sleep, left me restless in my heart. I decided to face front with it and scheduled a lunch where I said we would have “…a serious talk.”

This is not easy for me. Something I’d rather avoid, but circumstances demand that I lean into the pain. Some resolution is necessary for life here on Shadow Mountain to retain one of its primary purposes. Wish I could be more specific, but I can’t.

 

 

Family, Feelings, Friends, Kabbalah, Minnesota, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase, Travel

You Are Approaching a New Phase of Life

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Summer and the almost full Lughnasa Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. The Cog Railway. Pikes Peak. Oxygen. Rigel. Kep. Patient dogs. Zelle. Joseph coming. Hearing appointment. Pine Valley Road. The North Fork Fire. The North Fork of the South Platte River. Colorado. Becoming Coloradan and Westerner.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Pikes Peak

Tarot card: Three of Cups

 

OK. There’s a streak here that’s inexplicable. At least by me. Granted that all perceived coincidence has a rootedness in the fact of personal experience and its interpretation. This close a hit feels unlikely without a bit of woo-woo in the air.

Here are three short interpretive excerpts about the three of cups:

“What it signals most strongly, however, is being with those who are emotionally in tune with you and you with them.”

“Three of Cups Tarot Card, in its core, represents finding yourself in a community of people who you can trust and rely upon.”

“There is abundant energy gathering around this moment that signifies you are approaching a new phase of life.”

Having read those would it you surprise you to know that my well-over thirty year friend, Tom Crane, came to visit yesterday? And, that we spent the day breakfasting, Happy Camping, and riding a cog-railway to the top of Pikes Peak?

Tom himself, the smaller group of Ancient Ones: Bill, Mario, and Paul, and the full herd of the Woolly Mammoths are exactly those with whom I am most emotionally in tune. Congregation Beth Evergreen folks, too, but to a lesser degree because of a shorter period of time together.

I do have a community of people I trust, two such communities: The Woollies and CBE.

Given the salience of the drawn cards to my actual life, hard for me to grasp, but there nonetheless, I’m intrigued by that third excerpt. It suggests I’m approaching a new phase of life.

I can feel it. As I move Kate’s clothing out of the closets and dresser, her jewelry out of its many different locations, and sort her cosmetics, I can feel spaces opening in my life. When the sewing room empties out, August 13th, I’ll feel more free.

No, not of Kate. Not at all. But of the stuff that she used in her daily life, no longer needed, and occupying emotional territory in my psyche. Her belongings are not a huge burden, but they are one and removing them feels good. Tom’s going to help me with that today. This is part of the pruning, the right-sizing, of my life, which includes my stuff, too. I plan to donate clothing of mine, as well.

Talked with Tom yesterday about my ideas on remodeling the kitchen and the bathroom. He was positive about it, about making the house as pleasant and useful a space as I can. I’m going to go forward with them, maybe a couple of more things, too. Like a fan in the downstairs TV room and in the guest room, and maybe a few touches in the main room. Not sure what right now.

Our house in the early morning, light on Shadow Mountain

When I’m done with all this, presumably sometime this fall, there will be a kitchen I love to cook in, an upstairs bathroom that no longer looks tired, a conversation area with chairs in front of the fireplace, a new dining room, sitting area in the old sewing room, and a newly arranged downstairs TV room.

Plan to follow Kate’s example and live here until I die. This excites me, feels appropriate as a marker for a new life.

Kate will still be everywhere, going with me, her quilts and jewelry and art adorning what will always be our house.

 

 

Denver, Family, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mountains, Music, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Back in the Mountains Again

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Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Franny and the Jets. Alan, proud poppa. Jon, calmer. Downtown Denver. The 16th Street Mall. The new breakfast place. Beignets. Feeling a bit lost yesterday afternoon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Front Range last night with the Sun setting behind it as I drove home.

 

June, 2019, our backyard

Back now, reabsorbed into the Mountains. Surprised yesterday to see a for sale sign on Holly and Eduardo’s house. They’re moving to Palm Springs, close to it. Eduardo got a new job with the same company, a commercial laundry. Sad to see them go.

Holly told me that Jim and Roberta, who live next to them, got divorced and their house will be up for sale, too. We’ll find out how accurate the (seemingly) inflated estimates are for our house prices.

Drove over to Evergreen yesterday AM and had breakfast with Alan. Cheri, his wife, has organized a big July 4 music festival for Evergreen. She also did one for Memorial Day. A lot of work. Good for the town.

The continuous rains we’ve had have greened up the Mountains. All the Plants look happy, watered, vibrant.

Elk Meadow, which I passed on the way to breakfast yesterday, was the first tract of land protected by a community land trust based in Evergreen. It’s big. The namesake Animals lay down in the grass, others wandered, eating. Highway signs say Watch for Elk. Scan the Roadside.

Got my x-rays back. No cancer, at least in these views. Whew. In the dry and matter of fact way of these reports: “X-rays show no acute changes; just old degenerative changes to lumbar spine and right hip.”

That’s me. An old degenerate. P.T. starts next week.

Still busy with this and that. Mostly. Yesterday afternoon though I’d paid all the bills, had breakfast with Alan, napped. Nothing really to do until 5 pm when I would leave for Dazzle Jazz in downtown Denver. Got to feeling displaced, a bit down. X-ray findings, while not terrible, reminded me of my own mortality. Which seems more real now with Kate’s death.

Also, Dr. Thompson told me not to take anti-inflammatories because of “your vascular disease.” Oh. I haven’t taken them for years, but that was because of kidney disease. I have atherosclerosis, my Midwest U.S. diet hasn’t helped. Since mom and dad both had strokes a reminder of the vascular disease sent me down a short rabbit hole.

Steadied. Sure, I’ll die. When? Don’t know. Today? Well, if so…

Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

Alan’s daughter Franny is a jazz singer with a band called the Jets. They played an Amy Winehouse set yesterday. Dazzle Jazz @ Baurs. I saw her there three years ago when she decided to give up music and had a farewell show. Felt like I’d seen the end, so I wanted to see the beginning. She’s young.

Invited Jon. We had dinner, enjoyed the show. The band took a while to gel, but when they got there, it was good. Being there was therapeutic for me. Saw a lot of CBE’ers and had time with Jon. He’s on a beta blocker now which seems to have calmed him down. A good thing.

I can now find my way out of Denver without GPS. That feels good. It’s taken a while since I’m not in Denver often. The Mountains, as Jen pointed out long ago, line the western horizon. Angle toward them and you get outta town.

As I drove home last night, the setting sun backlit the Front Range, giving it a paper cutout look with jagged peaks in black against a blueblack and white sky. Beautiful, poignant.

When I turned off 470 onto 285, my favorite sign shone up ahead: Watch for Rocks and Wildlife. That’s home.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Hawai'i, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain

Agency

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Friday gratefuls: A boy and his dog, asleep together on the carpet. Cool morning Air off the Ocean. Korean burgers prepared as a joint Korean-American enterprise. Readiness to return home. Kep and Rigel. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of joy and awe: Dawn. The North Shore of Oahu: surf’s up!

Closing days on this journey. Monday night, 9:30 pm. Colorado, 8:30 am Tuesday. Back up the Mountain. I’m a different man than the one who landed here on May 14th. Less jagged, less fraught. More peaceful. A time for which gratitude seems inadequate.

It’s the first time I’ve been to Hawai’i without Kate. During the first months I’m without Kate. Bittersweet? Yes, but good, too. On my own. As I’m learning how to be on my own. Again.

She would not have liked Oahu. Too urban, too distanced from the native Hawai’i. It’s still here, of course, its echoes in the Sunrise, the Palm Trees, the Trade Winds, the Outrigger Canoes, the native Hawai’ians. But it’s also noisy, paved, car-ridden, and cluttered with houses and shops and buildings. The built Oahu contradicts the Island itself. I can see why the Ohana folks want to kick the haoles off the Island.

Last Hebrew alphabet class today. Read the piece I wrote about language. Well received. Made me smile to see its effect. I’ve needed that affirmation, especially now. Part of the healing in this time here. An accident of timing, but a good one.

All during the class the Mourning Doves called. Mourning has its beauty, its capacity to call in the Dawn. Which rose as the class progressed and the Doves sang. Helping me call in the dawn of a new, changed life.

The need for agency is a powerful one, perhaps the defining characteristic of life itself. I’ve been very passive here. Sitting, watching TV. Some exercise but stopped now due to a painful something or other in my right upper leg or hip. Not able to leave the base until I got my pass, then feeling too settled in. This blog, a few meals, walks. That’s about it.

When we’ve done sight seeing, Joseph has driven. I chose the Nu’uanu Pali, the Bishop Museum, China Town and now Oahu’s North Shore but other than that we’ve gone where Joseph though would interest me. I’m proactive on a trip. Not this time. Not much.

Seems to fit with mourning and grieving. Letting the weight settle, feelings come back into balance. That’s not passive at all, my agency here internal. Tending to process, staying aware, listening to my heart.

As leaving approaches, my yearning for agency has risen. And there will be plenty of opportunity when I get back to Shadow Mountain. A few unfinished administrative pieces like updating the title of the car, settling with Social Security on survivor’s benefits, dealing with Evergreen Mortuary. Seeing friends, getting back to CBE. Shopping. Cooking. Writing. Dealing with my leg. Another PSA the second week of August.

Life as I will know it. Considering, gently, slowly, the future. Where to live. How to live. What to engage, what to prune. Feels exciting.

Visitor on my first day of radiation. 2019

 

Minnesota, Mountains, The West, US History, Weather +Climate

June 17 addenda

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Beltane and the Shadow Mountain Moon

The basilica, Minneapolis. From my hotel room.

The growing season turning red hot. Dry. Minnesota, that state of lakes and the Superior Lake, of -30 nights in January, of down coats and cabins, all red. And not a drop of rain to share. How can this be? It’s not Minnesota’s color. Brown is the color of the West, of the Mountains. Not 45 degrees latitude, half way to the Northpole.

We know these insults in the Rockies. Past that line where we all get less than 20 inches of Rain. For the whole  year. Yes, we know. We suffer it, fold up a few tents, turn off the lawn sprinklers, run the AC. Fight Wildfires, hope they don’t burn our home. But. Minnesota? The world is out of joint.

On Oahu where I sit writing this we’re in the warmish dryish season where the temps tend to be in the 80’s and Rain still falls. Twice in the last two days. Then, there’s all that Ocean. The Mountains squeeze out purified Ocean drops, fling them at the already green, always green slopes.

Here it’s pretty much as usual. Or, maybe I think that because I know this world much less well. I recall reading that the tropics will be affected least by global warming. Sea level rise though. Vanuatu has advertised its extinction. Do not want to go the way of Atlantis. I understand.

As the world literally burns, Republican and capitalist violinists play on, from the pent house to the mountain retreat to the air chilled vaults of Swiss banks.