Lughnasa and the Michaelmas Moon
Thursday gratefuls: Happy Camper. Kol Nidre. Yom Kippur. CBE. Marilyn and Irv. Cool(er) nights. Alan. The Wildflower. Colorado DMV. Ruby. Her new tabs and title. Workout. Black Mountain. Maxwell Creek. That Deer I hit. Shadow Mountain. All the Critters. National Western Stock Show. Bees. Evergreen. Black Mountain and Brook Forest Drive.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Draft Horse Shows
Tarot: 8 of Swords, Druid
Yom Kippur. The Day of Atonement. The sealing of the Book of Life for the next year. It is written. Choose life.
I didn’t attend any of the High Holidays though I tried last night on Zoom. I don’t have the same childhood memories of these holidays that bring so many back to the synagogue. Sorta like Christmas and Easter if they were in the same week. Also, I still don’t feel comfortable in large groups, masked or not. In addition I’m tired. Orgovyx still saps my energy, leaves me achy and flashy. (hot flashy, that is)
Sukkot, on the other hand. I’ll go next Wednesday unless I’m still worn out. Sukkot is a harvest holiday and fits with the Pagan Great Wheel Taoist guy that I am. Ruth and Gabe may come up, too. I hope so. We’ll sit outside, spend some time in the Sukkah, see friends. Eat pizza. It will have no meat. Meat and cheese, nope.
Marilyn called last night before Kol Nidre, the first Yom Kippur service. Checking up on me. I appreciate that. That’s Alan, Tara, Rich, Jamie, and Marilyn. All since Sunday. I have friends here.
Interesting to consider the impact Judaism has had on me. Significant, for sure. I still feel no desire to convert, but the way of the Torah is now part of my way. Torah means learning, but learning in a particular way. With keen attention. With observance of details and mistakes and embellishments. With all we have. With others. Rabbi Jamie has taught me that Torah study is the way. And, I try to follow that way. See what you’re looking at.
My investment in applying Torah to biblical and Jewish liturgical traditions is slight, but I appreciate the opportunities. Applying it to Kabbalah, Tarot, poetry, my backyard, my inner world, the lives and times of my friends and family, the Critters that live up here, politics, on the other hand. My investment is high.
The wonderful aspect of Judaism, especially reconstructionist Judaism, is that I fit right in anyhow. I don’t have to try to shoehorn my actual beliefs into some ragged conformity. I can let them hang out, to be seen by all.
Rabbi Jamie, my first true mentor, has taught me a worldview that can accommodate my peculiar religious/spiritual/philosophical bent and add to it. It is Torah. It is grounded in the now. It is communal. It does not find tradition oppressive, nor does it find tradition authoritative.
In the simplest terms it is a hermeneutic. A method of interpretation that insists we be faithful to our experience, that we open ourselves as broadly as we can to the world around us and within us. That we learn with a bias toward merit in all that we study. This means not always going in with the sword of reason or the bludgeon of logic. It does not mean, however, excluding them.
In philosophy and anthropology, even in seminary, I found academics more a blood sport than anything else. What does that mean? How do you know? Who says so? Where’s the evidence? Correlation is not causation. Let’s wrassle!
Rabbi Jamie has taught me a gentler way of approaching learning. It does not neuter the intellect, but it does insist on giving sources a chance. On giving others a chance. On giving your self a chance. It does insist on openness.
In that process I have discovered tarot as a mirror for my soul, a guide for my journey. And, in discovering that, I have reached into my rib cage, spread it out, and exposed my heart. I can feel my way past the veil, again. I can let the totality of the universe, seen and unseen, in. I can feel my presence in Malkut, yes, but I can also feel my presence in the Crown, the Keter, and, yes, I can also feel the ayn sof.
My grief and my past six years at CBE and my own dogged searching has prepared me for this time. My fourth phase. My life has begun to withdraw from the hurly burly toward the spiritual, the soulful, the unseen. I’m thinking of myself right now as a hermit and of Shadow Mountain as my Mountain Hermitage. We’ll see if that lasts, but I think it will. I hope it will. This is the last journey of my soul here in Malkut. May it be a fruitful one.
Eight of Swords


Been pondering the cards. Again. Still. Drew the eight of pentacles*. Again. Key words from the Druid Tarot Book: Steady progress. Apprenticeship. Training. Makes sense to me after the High Priestess and Death.
So many help me. Jon, Ruth, Gabe came up Saturday. We had chicken pot pie and I sent them home with two. They also went to Upper Maxwell Falls to scatter some more of Kate’s ashes. I didn’t feel quite up to going and I wondered if it might be better anyhow. Allow them their own time, their own way of saying goodbye.


Anyhow my point here is that I’m doing my own thing with these daily cards and I’m not only reading the day, but the trends. I’ve had so many cards that spoke to my anima. I’ve remarked on this before. I’ve also had cards like the Hanged Man that speak to a transformation in values, in beliefs, in life way.
This may sound like complaining, but it’s not. I’m grateful for the opportunity to use Orgovyx since it has fewer cardio-vascular risks, lowers testosterone to castration levels in the first month, and has become affordable. We’ll know more at the end of the month after blood work. It can create anemia and I’m wondering about that as an explainer for the fatigue.
Although. I keep drawing Tarot cards that push me toward creative work, art. To get back to it. Example: King of Cups. Three of Stones, Wildwood Deck. Bear, the Animal Oracle deck.
Three of Stones: Wildwood Deck
The Bear: Animal Oracle
A full day yesterday. Went through my workout, still at two sets but I’m up to 15 reps on the first exercises Rebecca gave me, still ten reps on the new ones. 15 minutes of cardio. Tired. Didn’t get much nap because I had to go to Mile High Hearing.
On the drive back I decided to hit Scooter’s Barbecue for takeout. Ranked the best barbecue joint in Colorado and it’s in Conifer. How bout that? Got a half-rack of ribs, Texas toothpicks (fried onions and jalapeno), pinto beans, and some corn bread. The owner is a good ole boy. Tall, built like a linebacker. Smiles a lot.
Wrasslin my way through assistance forms and phone calls for Orgovyx. Hope they can get the price of the co-pay down. Also got a bill for medicare. $750 bucks. A bill for medicare? Whaaaa? Then I remembered that I closed my old Minnesota credit union account. That’s where my social security payments used to go by direct deposit.
A few hot flashes, gentle, at least for now. Unwelcome, sure. But, they do signal the drug has reached therapeutic levels. Both Eigner and Kristie, his PA, have this corny thing, “Imagine the cancer cells dying with each hot flash!”
“Key words: Demands. Burdens. Overwork.
Wednesday gratefuls: Orgovyx. Biologic Pharmacies. Money. CBE. The New Year. Rigel, sweet girl. Kep, happy boy. Dan Herman. Rich Levine. Alan Rubin. Marilyn Saltzman. Jamie Arnold. Judy Sherman. The Ancient Ones on peregrinatio. Safeway pickup. Cool breeze last night.
Barring more illness on Jon’s part or another wreck on Ruth and Gabe’s, we’ll finally distribute some of Kate’s ashes at Upper Maxwell Falls this Saturday. When Jon, Ruth, and Gabe can make it. Ruth told me she wanted some of my chicken pot pie so I’m making some on Friday. It’s been a while. Usually makes four to five full pie tins. Freeze well, too. I’ll give her two and keep two here. A good incentive to actually cook.
Realizing I’ve been such a flat-earth humanist for so many years. Death=extinction. No god. Life is absurd. Don’t give me any of that metaphysical stuff. Changing.
I’m beginning to open myself to the idea. What does it mean? What could it mean? I can feel the consolation it brings and consolation is pretty important. I know that right now. What about my embrace of the Great Wheel? Was I a Druid in a past life? Or, at least a believer in the auld religion?
I miss him. That guy that could embrace the irrational, the possibility of an Other World. And not cringe. Not shrink away. He was a bad boy of the Enlightenment. Oddly, the place I’ve retained most of him is in my Taoist thought. Wu wei? Yes. Sometimes. Follow the chi? Yes. Always. Experience the contradictions of consciousness and dreaming? Oh, yes. Follow the I-Ching? Yes.
“Keywords: Clarity. Clean break.” DTB
This card speaks directly to my inner world. The Celts, Jung, my two favorite places on Earth. Appropriate that it should signify a break through. There are dark clouds there, too, and a Bird, maybe a Heron? The Heron is the on the card for the King of Vessels in the Wildwood Tarot.

The entire Harry Potter oeuvre, cinema, came to HBO Max on September first. I’ve been watching them, finished the Goblet of Fire yesterday. I love the immersive world created by set and costume designers, the increasingly dark plot lines, watching the young actors grow both into their roles and as people. Rowling’s cleverness, a distinctly British type, makes everything tinged with irony and spooned over with nostalgia.
Talked to Rabbi Jamie on Thursday and told him about my speculation concerning reconstruction. That it’s content neutral, a hermeneutic, a way of interpreting the human experience of reality, of each other, of the hidden. Also, that it opens the door for Tarot, Astrology, the Great Wheel. They too can be matters of serious consideration, tools for diving into the inner Lakes and Forests of the Other World we each carry within us.
“The Hierophant advises that you return to the role of a meticulous student. Learn everything you can about your chosen area. Let that knowledge become a part of you and an operative influence on your day-to-day awareness. In this way, you can slowly and steadily establish real credibility in your field or chosen subject.”
Thursday gratefuls: Prostate cancer. Orgovyx. Kristie. Kep and Rigel, my companions, my friends. Passing out of the dark valley. Exercise. Safeway grocery pickup. Express delivery. 47 degrees this morning. Rain on its way.
Friday gratefuls: Rigel and Kep. Snuggling, staying with me, greeting me. CBE. The Bread Lounge. Donating. The spread sheets of the Rider-Waite deck from fellow student, David. Mark Horn and his Kabbalistic Tarot. Jung. His thought. Archetypes. Following our own hearts. The ancient ones. My friends. Diane. Mary. Mark. Cardio. Doing it.
Got a few errands to take care of today, then I’m going to mussar at CBE. So, short post.
Over to the Bread Lounge to pick up a loaf of sourdough, my go to bread these days. Had an egg sandwich before I went to Mt. Evan’s hospice to donate feeding liquid. They didn’t want it. Not sure what I can do with it now. Highly specialized. May have to throw it away. Mt. Evan’s is close to CBE so I went there and waited in the sanctuary for mussar to start.

It’s been a tough week and a half. The PET scan, the bone scan, waiting on the results, the results themselves. I’m feeling vulnerable because of them, mortal. Also the strange road of the cancer that can be managed. A 2 year course of androgen deprivation therapy. Off and on for the rest of my life. Prostate cancer has become part of me, literally, and as an identifier. Oh, he’s the one with prostate cancer.
The first impulses to prune, to reorganize have hit a temporary seawall. Cancer, my need to exercise, feeling low. I got a lot done, a lot. There is still more to do and right now I have no energy for it. Makes sense. A lot going on physically and emotionally. Still, it frustrates me.
Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon