Category Archives: Shadow Mountain

Aging, Cancer, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Hermitage, Memories, Myth and Story, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain

Alchemical work

Leave a comment

Samain and the Radiation Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Joanne. Diane. The Alembic. Jung. Freud. Rogers. May. Frankl. Maslow. Satir. Fromm. Adler. Horney. Erikson. Paul Goodman. Adorno. Marcuse. Benjamin. Habermas. Unamuno. The hermeneutics of suspicion. Ricoeur. Guides from my student days. The theology of liberation. Cornel West. Shadow Work. Ivan Illich.

Sparks of joy and awe: A day of rest

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Shadow, shadow work, the work done but unrecognized, unpaid, unappreciated housework, child rearing, transporting yourself to work, self checkout, pumping your own gas, making your own travel arrangements, assembling products that come in pieces, maintaining a yard and a vehicle noticed and named by radical thinker, Ivan Illich, in his book, Shadow Work. How much shadow work do you do?

Alembics. “…historically used by alchemists and for producing medicines, perfumes, and alcohol, the word can also be used metaphorically to mean something that refines or transmutes.” Gemini

I’ve begun to think of my life in terms of alembics. When was I thrown into a life situation, either by my own choice or by outside circumstance that resisted logic, yet compelled me to respond in unexpected, unusual, new ways?

A major early almebic? The death of my mother. No way to reason my way through that. A moment of dark transformation, carried without thought into the dark recesses of my heart, clashing with a changed world, and not well. In spite of being in a family, I sat in this alembic alone, feeling the fires of fear, doubt, grief lick up and around my stunned self.

This transmutation produced no gold. No, it produced a broken soul, one ready for abandonment, for sudden shifts from light to dark, from innocence to intoxication. Yes, the second alembic, which contained the first, grew from days at Phi Kappa Psi and Wabash where I learned to smoke and to drink.

An alembic that would not shatter until March of 1976 when I began treatment at a Hazelden outpatient clinic in Minneapolis. Getting sober allowed me to gather in pieces of the dark time and begin to transform them into psychic gold. To understand that the grief, the agony, the isolation (self-imposed) had forced me to mine my inner resources in ways and at a time most people went to prom and figured out what to do with their lives.

Other alembics. The Peaceable Kingdom. Seminary. Adopting Joseph. Vietnam era protests. Studying philosophy and anthropology. Marrying Kate. Andover with its gardens, dogs, bees. Writing. Shadow Mountain. Kate’s illness and death. Cancer. CBE. Converting to Judaism. Old age with a terminal illness, the fourth phase.

I like the use of alembic to describe these times because it recognizes that the pressures and fractures and falls and emergence shape us in ways unpredictable, unknown, yet in which we have no choice but to participate as best we can.

Are you in an alembic right now? Or, have you emerged from one recently? Or, long ago. How did it transform you? How is it transforming you?

Cancer, Colorado, Health, Mountains, Science, Shadow Mountain

An Inner Glow

Leave a comment

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Morgan at Evergreen Orthotics. Neck braces. Abby Price, P.A., at Panorama Orthopedics. Steroid injection. Today. Looking forward to both. Cartoons. Anime. Manga. Horror. Fantasy. Science fiction. Mystery. Drama. Literary fiction. Albrecht Dürer. Arcimboldo. Breughel. Rembrandt. Poussin. Goya. Velasquez. Turner. Holbein.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: World Art

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hakov   Gratitude.    “Who is rich? Those who rejoice in their portion.” Perkei Avot 4:1

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Once again under the beam of a radiation  device remember radiation poisoning from atomic bombs yet here I go exposing myself to even more high energy particles for their harmful effect on human tissue, yes, their harmful effect aimed not at enemy cities, but at enemy cells, rogue multipliers who want to consume every bit of my body.

If you went into the crawlspace under my house, you would see black plastic sheeting covering the floor and tight against the short walls. Outside a vented flying saucer like device with a whirling fan sucks air from beneath the sheeting and disposes of radon, a naturally occurring radiation contained in soil and rock and water. Many homes here in the Rockies have radon mitigation devices.

When I traveled through southern Utah, several years ago, I stopped at the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. When I got out of the Tundra pulling Merton’s last possessions (Kate’s Dad), I hiked around the area.

Small wooden signs in National Park style had yellow painted letters that read: Uranium Mine, stay out.  Chains across the entrances reinforced the signs. These were modest as mines go, more like human sized burrows reaching back into the rock of the Kaiparowits Plateau.

When Kate and I began to look for housing after we decided to move to Colorado, a good deal caught our eye, the Candelas Development. Cheap land, good prices on interesting homes, and midway between Boulder and Denver with unobstructed views of the Front Range.

What’s not to like? Its proximity to the long closed Rocky Flats nuclear production facility for one. Rocky Flats, now a Superfund site, blocked off by chain link and razorwire, made nuclear triggers for the military.  An ongoing controversy focuses on plutonium found in the unmitigated land surrounding the Superfund site, the Rocky Flats Wildlife Refuge, and the land under the Candelas Development.

It’s been declared safe over and over again by regulators, but critics say that no amount of plutonium exposure is healthy. We did not choose to buy there.

Radiation occurs in so many places, some of human artifice, most part of Mother Nature’s collection of elements distributed over the Planet’s surface and within her mass.

I’m glad some clever scientists figured out how to harness radiation for peaceful uses like nuclear power plants (looking at you, Bill Schmidt), smaller reactors that power submarines and aircraft carriers, and fighting cancer.

Starting on Monday of next week, I’ll have the first of ten doses of lower energy radiation to kill a lesion in the bone marrow of my T4 vertebrae. I will wear my red t-shirt with the radiation hazard logo in yellow.

 

 

Cooking, Greenhouse, Health, Plants, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Charred Tomatoes

Leave a comment

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Friday gratefuls: Alan. Joanne. Rabbi Jamie. Ric. Shadow the wonderful. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Vega. Gertie. Kepler. Murdoch. All Dogs. Cooking with homegrown food. Kylie. Nerve ablation. Dr. Carter. Radiating my T4 vertebrae. Life with chronic disease. Tom and his PET scan. At Mayo. All men with prostate cancers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Cherry Tomatoes and Beets. Cooked.

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Me as a Metaphysician

One brief shining:  After pouring three tablespoons of extra virgin Olive oil on the Pepper strips, the delicate Garlic slices, the wedges of Scallion, the whole Cherry Tomatoes, and the hot Italian sausage, I took my favorite wooden spoon and began stirring it all on the baking pan, coating the Vegetables with a bright sheen, the sausages, too. Under the broiler.

 

Artemis/Cooking: Alan reminded me of the sheet pan recipes in the New York Times cooking section when I mentioned my bumper crop of Cherry Tomatoes. He had some favorites using Cherry Tomatoes and forwarded them to me. I found them and another one using Italian sausage.

Ordered the sausage, the Scallions, the Garlic, to go with my Cherry Tomatoes and Beet, the already cut strips of Bell Peppers and last night I assembled them all. My ability to stand has its limits, but I thought of movies where Italian mothers sat peeling and chopping, and did some of the work that way.

I cannot tell you how meaningful, how wonderful it was to once again cook with food I had grown myself. I could have done more but I ate the other Tomatoes off the Plant or soon after. The first bite of the charred Tomatoes? Exquisite. The second of my Beets? Excellent. Overall a great Thursday evening meal.

Two gallon bags remain, one with Spinach and Beet Leaves, the other with Kale. I plan to cook them over the weekend. An unexpected bonus? Energizing my desire to cook for myself. Will cancel Cook Unity for now. Have at it.

 

Health: Saw Kylie, my pain doc, yesterday. She sent the order for my nerve ablation. Should hear from scheduling in a week or two. Can’t be too soon. If the ablations produce that pain free feeling I had for a couple of hours after the first lidocaine injections, I will be ecstatic. Should reinforce my cooking decision.

Hannah, Kylie’s med tech, lives in Bailey, even further west into the Mountains along 285. Maybe 13 miles. Each time I see her we discuss the drive in. She does it everyday, including winter. Not an easy commute for a job that can’t pay too well.

 

Just a moment: Nuclear Don. Red Tie Guy glowing with energy after his meeting with Xi Jinping. His erratic behavior would cause serious, thoughtful, concerned reporting yet because it seems to be only an extension of prior behavior, it seems to rouse less interest. Odd. IMHO.

Dogs, Friends, Garden, Greenhouse, Plants, Shadow Mountain

Did He Really Say That?

Leave a comment

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Tarot. Tara. Eleanor. Hay for the Garlic. Harvesting Kale, Spinach, and Beets. Joe. Joanne. Marilyn. Ric. Luke and Leo. Heather. Ginny and Janice. Cold morning. Sheet Pan meals. Alan. Kongs. Nylabones. Gonoughts. Tires. Doggie puzzles. Sit. Down. Touch. Come. Dodgers and Blue Jays.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World Series

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Reading with Tara

One brief shining: Kitchen scissors did not substitute well for garden shears as I cut Stalks of Kale, Leaves of Spinach, pinching my fingers; I did leave their roots  to nourish next year’s crop, and gently rocked Beet Roots back and forth to pull them from their home deep in the soil of Artemis’ western raised bed.

 

Dog Diary: I watched Eleanor and Shadow play. Shadow pawed up toward Eleanor’s head. Eleanor draped a long black Leg over Shadow’s back. Shadow reached up, gave her a nip. Friends in an intimate moment.

Whenever Tara opened the back door, the two of them rushed in, bouncing, smiling, jumping up, bringing the happy chaos of young animals enjoying themselves, each other, us. Infectious. Joyous. In the present.

A word for Gracie, Anne’s Blue Heeler, who died a few months ago. A calm and pleasant Dog who enjoyed lying in the Light of Great Sol as it streamed through the tall windows of the synagogue’s social hall. Humans sitting around a table trying to figure out how to be more like Dogs. Kind. Loving to all. Compassionate.

 

Artemis: Harvested a gallon Ziploc bag full of Kale and another of Spinach. Pulled up eight Beets, two small but fully round, the others longer, less filled out, all with tiny white roots reaching out from the main, spilled blood red.

Proof of concept. More, much more, than I expected. Today I will harvest Rainbow Chard and plant Garlic. I disconnected the drip irrigation from the hose and shut down the heater in the greenhouse. Without the insulation Nathan has yet to install it can’t hold back the outside temps when they plunge well below freezing.

Ordered a pair of my favorite garden shears from Amazon. They would have been useful yesterday with the Kale and the Spinach, but they’ll be necessary for cutting down my Tomato Plants. Once I get a propane heater for the greenhouse I plan to plant Lettuce, Arugula, and herbs, other plants ok with cold weather.

The Carrots will continue to grow in the cold frame of the east raised bed for a while, though I’ll have to water them now that the irrigation has gone quiet. Next spring I plan to devote that bed to memorial Flowers for Jon and Kate: Iris, Gladiolus, Canna Lilies.

A successful first season. And, a great boon to my daily life.

 

Just a moment: Oh, Jesus. Did he really say “Because of other countries testing programs, I have instructed the Department of War to start testing our Nuclear Weapons on an equal basis,” Mr. Trump wrote on Truth Social, his social media site, saying the process would begin immediately. quote from NYT, 10/30/25.

Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate, Wild Neighbors

Coming to Summer’s End

Leave a comment

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Paul. Marilyn and Irv. Big O. Closing up the cold frames. 19 degrees this morning. A cold Rain. 23 in the greenhouse. Bye, bye Tomatoes. The Diplomat. High quality TV. Joanne, coming home today. Aspen Perks. Maddie, coming today. CBE bridge this afternoon. Red Tie Guy trying to make nice with fellow tyrant, Kim Jong Un.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow Tires

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1   Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Shifted waiting room chairs after Great Sol heated me up, found a shaded one as customers came in, spoke with front desk clerks about brakes, a steering wheel that wobbled at forty miles per hour, which winter tire to buy while I laughed out loud, often, reading Carl Hiaasen’s Beach Fever on the Kindle app of my Samsung phone.

Following Alan’s plan from last year, I had my Snow tires put on a bit early, beating the November scrum that often finds appointments out past Thanksgiving. Big O, not Stevenson Toyota. Cheaper and closer. An 8:30 am drive down Black Mountain/Brook Forest Drive listening to Hard Fork, the New York Times podcast about tech with a focus on AI.

Aspens in sheltered places remain the grand golden torches of the late Fall Forest though most have lost their leaves to Wind and Rain. This is a delicate moment between our bicolored Fall and the bitter weather leading toward Thanksgiving. No Snow here yet, though Black Mountain’s ski runs did collect Snow a week ago.

Elk Cows gathered along Maxwell Creek where it turns and flows through Evergreen, their horned Patriarch lounging as the Cows ate Grass and drank from the cold Waters of this Mountain Stream. Evergreen Lake had no paddle boarders, no kayakers.

A quiet anticipation. Black Bears nearing the end of hyperphagia, hunting for or returning to dens to sleep away the fallow time. Elk Cows and Mule Deer Does quickening with Calves and Fawns.

Humans have on their hoodies, fleece. Most have on long pants though I saw a  man yesterday in bright yellow down vest, shorts, and sandals. Temperatures vary a lot between Sun and Shade, between early morning and midday making what to wear solved only by layers.

10 foot tall skeletons, ghosts made of used sheets, orange trash bags filled with leaves sport pumpkin faces. The increasing and earlier decorations for All Hallow’s Eve, or the feast of Summer’s End, Samain.

Summer has not fully fled with Denver hitting seventy-five this week. A few 60’s in our highs for Shadow Mountain.

We hang here between the final harvests of late fall gardens and the full stop of the growing season. Life in my late seventies mirrors this time. How long until l come to an end of my growing season? Words begin to disappear. The body becoming a brown husk, its seed long harvested, waiting for that first heavy Snow.

Friends, Judaism, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain

Topophilia

Leave a comment

Mabon and the Samain Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Rich and Kim. Her delightful vegetarian soup and Rich’s delivery. Dodgers win game two. Shadow and her snuggles. Artemis laughing at the cold nights. Hip and back pain. Red Tie Guy in Korea. My son, his Korean life. Murdoch, sleeping. Cherry Tomato sheet pan recipes. Ruby’s Snow shoes, tomorrow. Joanne.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kim’s soup

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hochmah.  Wisdom.   “Who is wise? The one who learns from every person.”  Perkei Avot: 4:1  Making medical decisions this week.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Rich sat down yesterday after delivering Kim’s soup and we had a philosophical conversation about the difference between discoveries like Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity and creativity that results in patents since Rich will teach, for the first time at Mines, a class he and another professor are developing on intellectual property. Fun.

 

Rich: A dear friend who volunteered to be my medical emergency contact and my Colorado medical power of attorney since Joseph’s in Korea. Also a very bright guy who’s taught at the Colorado School of Mines for many years. First constitutional law, then an honor’s class, and now will co-develop the new class on intellectual property.

To give you a sense of Rich’s approach, the first place he took students who will be in this class? A company run by two CSU-Boulder engineers, a couple, who develop open source software (her) and open source hardware (her). He’s also reading a lot of Karl Marx.

Also, a bee keeper. Glad to have him as a friend.

 

Oddity: So I’ve told Rich, Tara, and Ruth about my as yet unscheduled MRI. All three want to take me, be there with me. Geez. I admit I don’t know how to handle this generosity. But. I do appreciate it.

 

Artemis: Didn’t get around to harvesting Kale, Spinach, Beets, planting Garlic. Too focused on finding a new fan, one that won’t wake Shadow and me up at night with sudden illumination. Found a fan with no light. Should work.

Maybe today.

 

Place: The Ancient Brothers topic for this morning.

I always referred to Andover, Minnesota as a place with no there there. From Hwy. 10, up Round Lake Boulevard to 153rd Ave. it was an unbroken chain of franchise restaurants, local businesses in malls, a Walmart, and a grocery store. Once I got home though, to 3122 153rd Avenue, there was a there there.

Partly horticultural artifice with Prairie Grass, Flower beds, Vegetable gardens, an Orchard, and a Fire-pit. Partly a Woods filled with Ash, Elm, Cottonwood, Iron Wood, Oak, thick vines and ground covers.

We created a place with a sense of place. The Prairie Grass harkened back to the original Oak Savannah. The Woods were a remnant of a larger Forest. Our various gardens flourished in the Great Anoka Sand Plain, a geological feature of the Glacial River Warren which drained the formerly vast Lake Winnipeg.

When the time came to move to Colorado, there was no question about where to go. The Mountains were calling. This Winter Solstice will mark my eleventh year on Shadow Mountain, a favorite place.

 

 

Art and Culture, Colorado, Humanities, Literature, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Music, Myth and Story, Shadow Mountain

Art Years. Mountain Years.

2 Comments

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Luke at 34. Bella Colibri. Rabbi Jamie’s Rosh Hashanah sermons. Shadow, the morning kisser. Artemis’ Cucumbers. Pizza and Burger plants in my son’s garden. Seoah’s half marathon. Mary’s political neighborhood. Mark and West Texas. From afar in Hafar. Ruth and Gabe, students. The Never Ending Story. Fourth Wing. Iron Flame.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Harvest

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Malchut. Wonder.    “Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.”  Socrates.

Tarot: Five of Pentacles. (Druid Craft)

  • Focus on internal resources: For a querent, this version is a powerful reminder that sometimes the help we need is within us, but our focus on the problem prevents us from seeing the solution. It is a prompt to shift perspective, recognize internal resources, and understand that our perceived limitations may be an internal block rather than an external lack. 
Festival Theater, Stratford

One brief shining: Trumpets blaring we would file into our seats at the three-quarter round thrust stage of the Guthrie Theater when it stood attached to the wonderful Walker Art Center, find our seats, and wait as the Gospel of Colonus, or the Bacchae, or the Christmas Carol came to life, poor players strutting and fretting upon the stage until they were heard no more. Applause!

 

Minnesota: Though now a Coloradan, a Rocky Mountain guy, a Jew, a widower, I once was a Minnesotan and happily so. Especially when it came to the arts. Those trumpets I mentioned? Oddly, when my family vacationed in Stratford, Ontario I had encountered them years before. Why? Because Michael Langham, the director of the Guthrie when I first attended on a student discount, had been the director of the Stratford Shakespeare Festival during those long ago family vacations.

The Walker allowed all of us tucked into the rarely visited Upper Midwest of the Heartland access to the latest and the greatest of modern and contemporary art. What a gift. The MIA, an encyclopedic museum, covered art from ancient Chinese ceramics and bronzes through impressionists and abstract expressionists and had its own contemporary art exhibitions.

I spent twelve happy years guiding tour groups through the Asian galleries discussing the Jade Mountain(s), the Japanese Tea Ceremony, Song dynasty ceramics, and Korea’s amazing celadon glazed pottery. Yes I also led tours that included Goya and Rembrandt and Kandinsky, Chuck Close and Egon Schiele, but my heart remained always in the Asian collection.

It was a distinct privilege to immerse myself in the thousands of years of art in the MIA’s collection, to have my understandings of the modern world upended at the Walker, to have the Western world’s best playwright’s effort brought to life while I attended the Guthrie.

Too, there was and will always be for me: The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra. Decades of attendance acquainted me with Mozart, Teleman, Bach, Ives, Copeland, Fauré. And, ta dah! Kate.

Today my chamber music is the golden swathes of Aspen Leaves on Black Mountain. My Guthrie is the rain swollen Maxwell Creek while the Arapaho National Forest recapitulates the MIA and the Walker. So be it.

Far Right, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Boiler Medic

1 Comment

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Wind. Artemis. Dog food. Dog treats. Ken. His story. Boiler Medic. Zone valves and pressure relieving tanks. Agency. Sinah. Ahavah. Negative and positive emotional attachment. Thursday mussar. Traveling Tom. All gun shot victims. All the parents of high school students in Evergreen.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gun control

Year kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Omet Lev. Strength of the heart. The inner strength to move forward.

Tarot: #2, The High Priestess reversed. (Druid Craft Deck)

  • Repressed feelings and hidden truths: The reversal indicates that something is being kept under wraps—either by you or by others. The truth is hidden behind a veil, and you are either in denial or unwilling to confront an underlying issue.  Gemini

One brief shining: Guns, their ease of use, their ability to turn the aggrieved into deadly actors, their easy acquisition, those who fetishize them, the video games and movies that valorize them, guns guns guns guns somehow remain behind a second amendment veil, obscuring the truth for so many.

 

Ken, the Boiler Medic: Ken has taken care of our boiler, hot water, and hot water heat since we moved in. He came yesterday because the hot water heat in Kate’s old sewing room, now my exercise room, did not come on. With winter up next I’ll need some level of heat in that room.

An Apache, Ken and two of his sons, have all served in the Marines. He has stories of a life I could never have lived. One son, a gunnery sergeant, is twenty and out in three months. He’s studying right now to be a game warden in California. Poignant for Ken since he told me long ago that he too wanted to be a game warden, but a DUI disqualified him.

He’s had many jobs. Smoke Jumper. Career ended when he landed on a Pinõn Tree just as it exploded in a fire, breaking his back. Grocery Store Manager. Career ended with hollowing out of Grand Junction when a coal fired generating plant closed and fifty thousand people left town overnight. General maintenance in a setting where he became captivated by the big boilers. A plumber, then a commercial boiler installer and repair guy. Now on his own with his company Boiler Medic.

His non-work pursuits are even more interesting. He raced motorcycles until an accident that again injured his back. His motorcycle, the motorcycle of the guy that hit him, and its rider landed on him. His last motorcycle race. Though his kids raced, his daughter winning national races as a teenager.

He races mountain bikes now. He goes bike camping, showing me a bike with panniers, and other clever storage spots. He takes his Blue Heeler along, riding in a bike trailer with one wheel.

He grew up hunting for meat to feed his family. This year he has a muzzle loading license, an Elk and Bear license, and a Moose license. The Moose license is by lottery and it’s very rare to get one. Though hunting is not my thing, I honor people who hunt and eat the meat. And, who use guns responsibly.

 

Dogs, Far Right, Garden, Greenhouse, Politics, Shadow Mountain

Flat Wrong

1 Comment

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow, huntress of Chipmunks. Chewer of bones. Cool Morning. The Night Sky. Orion. Leo. Aquarius. Scorpio. Aries. Taurus. Cancer. Virgo. Ursa Major. Draco. Cassiopeia. Betelgeuse. Rigel. Vega. Polaris. Antares. Andromeda. Milky  Way. Webb. Hubble. Stellarium. Venus. Mercury. Mars. The Goldilock Zone. Rilke.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tara

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. Strength of the heart. The inner strength to move forward.

Tarot:  Ace of Cups, (Druid Craft)

  • Creativity and inspiration: As the start of the Cups suit, this card indicates a burst of creative inspiration. This may manifest as a new artistic project or an influx of new ideas.  Gemini

One brief shining: Eleanor bounded down the stairs, her yellow groomer’s bandana flying, Shadow raced ahead, out the back door, around Artemis, and the two of them ran circles, and circles, and circles chasing each other as Tara and I sat down to coffee, talking, and talking, and talking.

 

Dog journal: Shadow had a big day yesterday with Eleanor’s visit and Dr. Josy coming by for her Lepto booster. I kept Eleanor while Tara went grocery shopping. When Shadow and Eleanor came inside, they both laid down, having worn each other out.

Dr. Josy played with Shadow, got her to come up and snuggle, pinched her skin, and pushed the needle in. Vaccine complete. Chew on that RFK.

Gardening: Earlier Tara and I toured Artemis. It’s a short tour, but still. She found my Kale, Spinach, and Beets impressive and enjoyed one of the ripe Cherry Tomatoes. She asked me to come over and help her think through her garden, which she describes as less successful than my tiny one.

Touchy. As Tol, Jamie’s son, used to say often: comparison is the thief of joy. Even so. Gardening is something I know about so I can help her identify what she wants to achieve and how best to get there. Sort of exciting.

She wants me to give her a January 28th birthday present, help planning her 2026 garden. Again. Exciting. I spent a bit of time yesterday ordering seed catalogs.

 

Health: See Buphati on Monday, check out this latest twist. Get a plan for how to move forward. Calm. Yet also aware this could be a new inflection point.

Back to working out regularly. Cardio and resistance. Hitting over 150 minutes of moderate exercise each week. I feed Shadow at 6:30 am, then head up stairs for my pre-workout routine: a cup of coffee, two puffs of albuterol, a piece of fruit. After that on to the treadmill and either a leg and back day or an upper body day. That timing allows me to finish somewhere between 7:30 and 7:45, plenty of time for any 8 am calls, or appointments in the morning.

 

Just a moment: Occupying forces. Federal forces, under the cover of ensuring ICE actions, cutting down crime. Libertarians, unite against this invasion, this government overreach. Show our would-be tyrant that even his allies know this is wrong. Flat wrong.

 

 

Feelings, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Paganism, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

The Springtime of the Soul

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Road trips. Telluride. Ouray. Silverton. Durango. Shadow, rising in darkness. Morning darkness. Electricity. Artemis. Tomatoes nearing maturity. Very cool morning. Authoritarian playbooks. 2025. May you grow old in interesting times. TV. Books. Computers. Mini-splits. Fall come early. Aspen gold. CBE. Gabe and Gordonzeo. Ruth in her sophomore year.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Bubble gum and baling wire

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Ometz lev. Inner strength to move forward. Courage.

Tarot: Ten of Arrows, Instruction

Generational Wisdom:
The card emphasizes the transfer of knowledge from elders to youth, ensuring that traditional skills and wisdom are not lost.

 

One brief shining: Shadow is in the house, goes straight to her Nylabone Lobster, begins to chew with what dog toy makers call aggressive chewing, the kind that shreds toys made for softer dogs, ones whose chewing gentles the toys, treats them like Velveteen Rabbits, not Shadow for she demands resistance, counts on toughness.

 
 

Seasons: A cool morning. Forty-three. The greenhouse heater either can’t keep up or turned itself off. I’ll find out later this morning. These late August days and all of September mark a gradual transition from growing season weather to the bleakness of the fallow season. Sometimes cold, even frosty, sometimes warm.

 

Soon the Aspens on Black Mountain will begin to turn from green to gold. Jackie who lives above 9,000 feet in Bailey said they’d started to turn a while back where she is. Kenosha Pass, too, said a friend of hers. The whispered reports we share. Knowing seasonal change for what it is. Life-changing.

 

When to put on the Snow tires? Will my cold frames be done before the first frost? When will the Garlic come? Do the mini-splits need cleaning? How’s my supply of firewood? How about that first Snow? When will it come? Homes become refuges from the cold. Shadow loved the Snow in February. How will she react when it comes again? With delight, I imagine.

 

Mountain roads. Become more challenging. Technical. Call on forty years of Minnesota winter driving experience. When these Blizzaks lose their tread, I’m buying Hankook quiet studded tires.

 

Holiseason lies only a couple of months away. Starting on Samhain and running through the Epiphany. My favorite time of the year. Family and friends. Festive days and long cold nights.

 

But. Not yet. First the corn-pickers and the combines. Reaping the harvest as the mad colors of a Midwestern Fall bloom, red Sugar Maple leaves floating down, down onto Lakes and Ponds. Boaters heading out to see the colors on Lake Minnetonka. College football underway. Can the NFL be far behind?

 

I love this transitional time. A joy of living in the temperate latitudes where we have four seasons, more or less. And this change from the heat of summer to the crisp weather of fall? The best. All poignancy and anticipation.

 

As Rudolf Steiner said, the springtime of the soul. That’s why cheshbon nefesh fits so well here. An outer change enhances, encourages an inner one.