Category Archives: Mussar

Some days…

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark Horn. Tree of Life spread reading. Ancient Brothers. Siblings. TJ Henry. All-Clad 12″ skillet. Induction cooking. The Ham. Ruth, Jon, Gabe coming up Wednesday night for Thanksgiving. Mark going to Minnesota. The beautiful Holiseason moon. A splendid morning. Life with Kate. Now. A corner I need to turn.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tree of Life tarot spread

Tarot: Eight of Stones, skill. wildwood tarot.

 

What a day. Ancientrails. Journeymen. (Ancient Brothers?). TJ Henry. Derek and the air conditioner. Late nap. Tarot reading by Mark Horn, Gates of Light Tarot. Lots of love on this day.

The Journeymen. Or, the Ancient Brothers. Yesterday morning Paul, Bill, Mark, and I. We spoke of siblings, how we felt about them, how they were in our lives now. A heartfelt hour plus. In the end we recognized the truth. That we are, and have been for many years, true brothers to each other. Including Tom, absent with Roxann for her mother’s funeral on Saturday. Siblings are not solely about blood.

Afterward over to Evergreen Comfort Inn Suites. A woman had posted on Nextdoor about being forced out of her house with her two dogs. The guy she lived with shut off the electricity to her area, cut her wifi, and did other things she chose not to mention. Some thought it was a scam, but it felt genuine to me. And, besides, I’d rather take a chance and be scammed rather than not take a chance and leave somebody in need without help.

Even after I met TJ and her two fluffy snack-sized dogs, I couldn’t tell for sure. Came home wondering.

Then, I found this posted on Nextdoor this morning.

TJ Henry and me
Strong and Powerful Evergreen Community.

Thank you all so much for your help and support in my blight of late. I cannot thank you all enough. I am putting together a list of all the resources sent to me for someone else who may need them in the future. I will distribute.

Charles Buckman-Ellis, who recently lost his wife, left me with these kind words today. “Thank you for allowing me to help you today!” A beautiful man with a amazing soul. Rich Wyatt. Thank you for the ride to Walmart. Greatly appreciated. 🦋

Not a scam. My heart. Went full.

Later in the day Derek, a true neighbor, came over and helped me remove the single room air conditioner from my front window. It had cooled Kate while she sat in her place working crosswords and playing solitaire. With the mini-splits in place it had become a source of cold air leaking in from the outside and unnecessary. Into the garage.

Also Derek.

Couple of trees, one dead, too close to the house. He also took down dead trees further back on our lot. A decent symbiosis. He heats with wood. I’ve lost the strength necessary to do my own logging. (which, btw, I don’t like) Even when I was able to do it these particular trees seemed beyond my amateur arborist skills. Didn’t want to drop  them on my roof. Derek tied ropes to them and felled them away from the house.

He also offered to build a bench using one of the logs and the two stumps. I said, sure. That’d be great. Think he’s doing it right now.

Kate, about a month before her death

Then, in the evening I had my first ever tarot reading. Mark Horn, of Gates of Light tarot. Gonna go more in depth on this later. Tarot works. How? Not a clue. Well, some clue, but not much.

Here’s the big takeaway. In order to move into my next life, next phase, I need to embrace Kate as a presence in my life, a positive, support presence. I need to end the paradox of feeling remorse for feeling good. When I can pull this off, my next life will emerge on its own.

 

 

8 months

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Cytopoint. VRCC. Chewy. Earth Venture. Veggie Dent. The Star show. Every night! The Winds of late Autumn in the Rockies. I am; therefore, I think. Thanks for that one, Tara. Tired Jamie. Jon. Winter tires back on Monday. Oil changed. Thanksgiving. Last holiday in the old kitchen. The mini-splits. Working. Lodgepoles bending. 25 mph Wind. Not breaking.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kate’s Tiara for her 75th

Tarot: Seven of Bows, Wildwood Tarot

 

KEP

Kep into the VRCC for an allergy shot. Bought the next two doses so I don’t have to go back until February. His allergies are bad. Without cytopoint he scratches, bites himself. On his tail and his right rear haunch he gets below the skin, creates hotspots. Plus, he’s got the double coat for winter. That means when he scratches the fur literally flies. Doggy allergist to the rescue.

8 months ago today. Some day I might not notice the monthly anniversaries of Kate’s death. Not now. Those last days replay from time to time, not each minute, but significant moments.

Kate at Hwaesong, 18th century walled city, Korea

Like the time I asked Rabbi Jamie to buy me a ham and cheese at the deli. Seeing the ski runs on Black Mountain from a Swedish 10th floor window. Kate and I signing I love you. Her telling Kenton he’d done a good job on the arterial blood draw. When she said, in a cracking voice, “Death with dignity.” I nodded. “What do you think of my decision?” I hate it. It means I’ll lose you; but, I think it’s the right decision for you. Mozart minus Bach =’s Brahms. That call. She’s gone. As with Mom’s death and Joseph’s arrival, a stimulus for major change.

Re-membering her as a factor, now in memory, as I live. Wondering, what would Kate think? Taking her into account. Would she approve of the mini-splits? Yes, she would. The kitchen remodel? Probably, though she’d flinch at the cost. My decision to stay on Shadow Mountain? Oh, yes. Reorganizing the kitchen, the living room, downstairs, her sewing room? Not so much. What about Jon? Listen, empathize. Support. Within limits. Yes. Stay close to Ruth and Gabe. For sure. This will go on as life goes on.

Climate change. Glasgow. Climate pessimism. Nihilism. 47% of Republicans don’t believe we should regulate greenhouse gases. Why? Oh, just the planet going through a regular cycle. Or, made up by the elites. Or, don’t give a damn. And they may win the 2022 elections. An election that could doom the planet and human life as we know it. Talk about high stakes.

Even so. Can’t find the legs to get back into it. Distracted. Still working on the day-to-day. Feel guilty. The only thing necessary for evil to win is for good folks to do nothing. Not saying I’m good, but I have been willing to fight. Not right now. Or, Rabbi Tarfon: “You are not duty-bound to finish the work, but on the other hand, you have no right to waste time from it.” Not wasting time, me. So, ok.

Considering a new calendar rule. No more than two events of any kind outside of the house during the week. In spite of having a solo life I find distractions like appointments disturb my rhythms. I prefer alone time. A lot.

 

Energy

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste. Orion and his dog. The Zodiac. Our star canopy. The unimaginable size of the universe. Our unimaginable place in it. Life. The animator. Total mystery. Darkness. The holidays of Light. And that wonderful one for the Night. Thanksgiving. Jon. Ruth. Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Hermit. Sannyasa.

Tarot: The Lord, #4 of the Major Arcana

 

Solar installation, 2016

As I write, the upstairs mini-split’s fan has a gentle sound, pushing out heat, using my solar panels for juice. Well, sorta. They’re on, pushing electrons into the grid, and turning my meter backwards. I love that. But the electricity powering the mini-split comes from the grid. If I understand it right. It’s a trade. And during the day the trade is in my favor. At night. IREA’s.

David, who turned on my system yesterday and walked me through how to use it, told me something interesting. “In seven years or so, we’re anticipating no gas appliances in Denver.” He called that a shitshow. Because of the scramble to install mini-splits or other electrical modalities. But, also. What a business opportunity.

I now have mini-splits, an induction stove, and solar panels. Already have 220 in the garage. Might start looking for an electric vehicle. I can’t afford a Tesla, so something else.

boiler

My boiler should run a lot less. Water heater, primarily. Colorado Gas is not cheap. We’ll see how the two play against each other. I’m willing to eat some difference if the mini-splits prove more costly.

Not gonna solve the climate crisis. No. But makes me feel better.

Torah and the Stars yesterday. The houses in a natal chart. These are arenas of our lives for action. My sun, Aquarius, is in the eleventh house, as well as Mars. In the eleventh house lie “Ideals and aspirations for humanity as a whole. Friends of like mind bound together for a common cause. Movements, humanitarian concerns, group associations. Activities on the cutting edge of change. Colleagues and associates. Progressive ideas, hopes, altruistic acts.”

Since Aquarius rules the eleventh house, as well as the planets Saturn and Uranus, I get triple Aquarian energy here. Sun, ruler of the house, and ruled by Uranus.

With Mars in the same house I found my work life adequately explained. I will fight for progressive ideas. Mars. And, I will do it with folks I know well. Have done. That part of my life feels over now.

Now my ideals and aspirations for humanity have a more inward focus.  This blog. Work with kabbalah, astrology, tarot. Read. Write. Paint. Stay in the hermitage. Visit family and friends.

Forgot Kep’s cytopoint (allergies) shot yesterday when David came. Gonna go into VRCC tomorrow, transfer this to Sano. I’ve had some doubts about Sano, but they know Kep and Rigel. Probably stick with them. The VRCC is in Lakewood, quite a hike. I prefer the vets there, and for diagnosis and treatment recommendations, I’ll still lean on them. For shots and general physicals, Sano. Which is only 10 minutes away.

Iron Roots play at amphitheater soft open last Saturday

MVP tonight. Marilyn and I will carpool again. I meet her at the parking lot for Flying J Ranch, a Jeffco County Park.

A good point to say that Kep, Rigel, and I have decided to stay on Daylight time. I get up at 5:15 am MST and go to bed at 8 PM MST. Satisfies my crankiness about time changes and keeps the dogs’ schedule steady. It does mean that meetings like MVP, night meetings, will be more challenging for me.

Otherwise I abide by the chronoconsensus.

 

Friday

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Friday gratefuls: Kep and Rigel’s waiting up for me. Alan and Gaetano’s. Being out at night. Fine dining. Without Kate. A bit sad. Supply chains. Coyote HVACS. Tesla. Lucid. Polestar. Mussar. Soul curriculum. The night sky. Orion, home again, home again. Diane and Mark. The Ancientones. Carol. May she improve. The city at night. Blue Mountain Kitchens. Jodi. Brian. Bowe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The night in the city and the night on Shadow Mountain

Tarot: Queen of Pentacles, Druid craft deck

 

Electrical panel. Not in. Supply chain issues plague many different components of  our economy. When Brian measured for the cabinets last week, he made a point of saying he had hinges and drawer pulls, cabinet pulls in stock. I don’t have the alder, but they keep that in stock. So we’re good.

Probably a supply glitch associated with the kitchen project will occur. It has today with the mini-splits. A new electrical panel, necessary for the work in the garage. Not in. Will call. Stuff happens. I’m calm. I like their work, believe them. Trust. That’s the word.

I feel the same about Jodi. I trust her to wrassle the contractors and trades people, her supply chain at Blue Mountain. If things take a while, ok. I’m not in a rush. Still excited about both the mini-splits and the new kitchen.

As they proceed, so are other pruning related matters. Example. The Subaru leaves my garage this evening. On its way to support Colorado Public Radio. Jon’s coming up to manage the hand over of the car.

Ruth, Gabe

He feels better, but has lost a lot of weight and has trouble eating. Sound familiar? Yesterday he had gut issues, couldn’t eat. These aut0-immune diseases. Bad, bad news.

As a parent, Jon has made enormous progress with Ruth and Gabe. They’re both calmer, less reactive, more focused. Both sweet and loving. Yes, they have psychological matters, refractory ones, too. But Jon’s found a way to get the best out of them, to love them. Good to see.

His art, which I admire, sustains him. He finds pieces of metal crushed by traffic. Takes them home, cleans them up, then prints in the press he has in his studio. Cast off, crushed, found. Beautiful. A commentary on throw away culture and one way to fight consumerist capitalism.

The five years since the divorce have been hard, real hard, for him. Then Kate died. Since then, his auto-immune diseases have hammered at him with little let up. And, his mom, his medical advisor as she was mine, is gone. A tough, vulnerable spot.

Alan as the beggar

Alan and I went into Denver last night to his old neighborhood, north Denver, east Colfax. He had a debate partner in high school named Smaldone. Think Gotti, Capone, Lensky. The Smaldone’s were Denver’s organized crime family in the 1950’s and 1960’s.

They owned and operated and worked out of an Italian restaurant at Tejon and 38th. Gaetano’s. I didn’t make this up. The information about the Smaldone’s comes from Gaetano’s menu. The men’s room, GUYS, had a picture of the Rat Pack playing pool and, over the toilet, a booking picture of a young Frank Sinatra in Hoboken. That sorta thing. Bonus points: guess the name of the women’s.

This was a thank you dinner for a ride to the Aurora campus of Rocky Mountain Cancer Care. Axumin scan. A long drive. Alan had chicken parmigiana and I had the special, polenta and shrimp. Italian shrimp and grits.

While there, I used the Roger microphone. Set it on the table in the very live dining area. And left it there when I got up to go. Uh oh. $1400. Called with worry tickling my throat after I noticed it was missing. Yes, we have it, sir. I’ll be by tomorrow for it. Have to figure out a way to not let that happen again.

Had the reinforcing experience yesterday of being able to go 3.5 mph at 3.0% elevation. I’m gaining cardiovascular conditioning. Also hit the inclined bench press and surprised myself by using 20 pound barbells. I thought they were 15’s, but went through the set anyhow. That was Wednesday.

My HIIT book came yesterday. High Intensity Interval Training. This time I’m gonna be serious about creating my own program, following it, pushing my performance. Not only is this good for heart health, but it’s also good for my compromised lungs.

OK. Last bit of news. Today my new cookware comes. At least I think it will. That means I’ll cook using the induction range for the first time. First heat. Tomorrow. Not sure what I’m gonna make. Something.

 

Queen of Pentacles

“Key words: Generous. Patient. Kind.

Meaning: You may need to care for your body, your finances, your possessions, or your land and property. Your relationship with the land and the earth.”  DCB

The kings and queens of the Tarot suits represent manifestation of the suit’s essential meaning. Of the ancient four elements, pentacles resonates with the earth. Swords with air. Cups with water. Wands with fire. Pentacles has its focus on the body, money, possessions, the land, the earth. This reality. Malkut. The realm governed by the Shekinah, the Sabbath bride, and the estranged female principle of the divine.

This card is the anima apotheosis of pentacles, of energy and intention focused on here and now: prostate cancer, Jon, HVAC and kitchen remodel, meeting with RJ, my financial advisor. This card prods me to look into my feminine as I encounter today, to trust her when it comes to matters of this earthly reality. Be generous, patient, and kind. Especially with Jon. As I hear this card.

 

 

 

 

 

Pandamndemic

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Thursday gratefuls: Pruning. Proceeding. Pantry in use now. Picked a sink. Induction range and cookware. First heat. Friday. Kitchen remodel getting legs. Cold nights. Pandamndemic. Prostate cancer. HIIT. Good workout yesterday. Giving stuff away. Pots and pans. The stove. Money.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Sun, another day

Tarot:       The High Priest, #5 of the major arcana, Druid Craft

 

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

Pandamndemic. Creeping horror coming to your state the week of Halloween. Delta variant dawning. And twilighting. And causing pressure on health care, body counts, hope for a mask free end of the year. I find my own resistance to the masks, to caution challenged.

I just wanna be free! Damn it. Me and roughly however many billion of us have been dealing with this damned thing for well over a year and a half. Feels like this gray pall draped over every encounter outside of home. The hearing issues with it make me want even more time alone.

Then there’s the Build Back Better plan. How’s that going? I’m for putting McConnel and Manchin in a chain link box. Let a 3 round MMA bout settle which one’s the bigger impediment to a decent future. Winner gets a free disruption of the people’s business, no explanation required.

What? They already have that? Are doing that? Oh, I see. Well then. Let’s put them in a chain link box and tether them, Andromeda style, to a condo sitting on Miami’s disappearing beach front. Now wait. That could encourage climate action. Couldn’t it?

Between Covid and the Congress, between Covid and the weak-kneed White House, I find life outside the wonderful world here atop Shadow Mountain often dismal, rarely joyful. And. I. Don’t. Like. It.

Yeah. So what, you say. Suck it up buttercup. Nope. Not gonna do that. And, I wanted to have my minute. There it’s over. Back to business as masked.

Leading mussar today since Carole had a wreck. In hospital with a cracked sternum. Ouch. Meals for her for a couple of weeks. Glad. I get to return the favor.

Topic in mussar today. Judgement. Of others. The Perkei Avot says Jewish tradition instructs us that when we judge another person, we are to put their misdeeds on one side of a scale and their virtues on the other side of the scale. If the scales are balanced, then we should tip them towards merit.

And, ourselves. “The Talmud says that we should always judge other people favorably. We must also judge ourselves favorably”. (R. Nachman of Breslav)

Odd that in Christianity, which says judge not, the tendency is to judge harshly, while in Judaism, which sees judging others and ourselves as both inevitable and necessary, the remonstrance is to judge others favorably.

Reb Nachman puts another flaw in the ointment. We must also judge ourselves favorably. Whoa. That’s a hard one, eh?

I’m guilty of judging others harshly, of weighing what I perceive to be misdeeds or character flaws as tainting the whole person. I suppose you could call this cancel culture. Make one misstep and you not only get judged, you get ostracized from polite society.

“Machrio L’Chaf Zechut translates as “influencing others to virtue,” or “judging others favorably.” Machrio comes from the root chaf-reish-ayin and means “to bend.” L’chaf zechut means “to a scale of merit.” This is the middot associated with judgement.  Reform Judaism

This one goes on my spiritual curriculum. A spiritual curriculum according to mussar has on its syllabus character traits where we often fall short and those that we have, but need to reinforce.

This sort of work is actually High Priest work. “Tradition and guidance. Formal knowledge, education and academic establishments. A need to conform to orthodox ideas and conventional approaches. The significance of a teacher or mentor.” The message: “There is a value in discipline and routine to maintain the connection between your worldly and spiritual life.”  Druid Craft Book.

Facing Forward

Moon of the Thinned Veil

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley septic and waste. Mini-splits installed, though not yet electrified. Induction range has come. Bit more climate friendly. Old gas range has gone to somebody who needed one. Hair and beard trimmed. Excited about using my new range. Rigel’s cyst. Kep’s sweet demeanor. The Akita puppy list. Tarot and Astrology class yesterday. Understanding planetary influences.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: High Winds, cooler temps

Tarot: The Hanged Man, #12 of the major arcana, Druid craft

 

Rider-Waite

Guess the cards really want me to sit up and pay attention. The World yesterday. The Hanged Man today. With the World a cycle completed, satisfaction, fulfillment. I’ve felt for a month or so that the first phase of grieving is over, that I’ve passed into a calmer, less disruptive grief. Not no tears. Probably never. But instead of having my head turned toward the past, toward Kate’s death, it feels like I face forward now, living into a new life rather than letting the past define my present. That’s what the World affirms. A phase completed.

The Hanged Man has as one of his meanings a reversal of values or attitudes. My current immersion in kabbalah, tarot, and astrology is just such a reversal. I no longer scoff. Pushing past my skepticism, finding the value. Appreciative inquiry as Jamie teaches.

Setting aside the how and the why. Allowing the learning to flow, even if I can’t understand how it works, or why. Tough for empirical me. But, doing it.

Another card I had recently, The Star, had this note: “You may develop a calm, clear confidence in the future…You may be the recipient of much love at this time.” This was two days ago. Three majors in as many days. Big changes, happenings, currents. Flow.

The future does seem clearer now. I’m moving with more confidence into it, too. Joseph and Seoah. Navigating the Jon struggles with some grace. Connecting to Ruth and Gabe often. CBE, too. The Ancient Ones on Sunday mornings. Diane on Wednesdays. Mark’s communicating again. The Johnson clan every two weeks or so. These relationships, more than anything else, define my future. I’ve learned that over the time since Kate died.

As the Star suggested, I have been the recipient of much love over the whole time since Kate’s death. And, it has changed me. Helped me see the fourth phase, my hermit phase, as linked still to the lives of others. Not a retreat from love, but an embrace of it. Yet. Living my life somewhat apart, in the Hermitage. Focusing on the creative, the scholarly. Cooking. Caring for the dogs. Loving and being loved.

Mirrors to my soul. These cards say, hey! Notice this. And, that. Pay attention. Let intuition free. Follow her. Astrology, too, though in a very different way.

In the Astrology and Kabbalah class I’m focused on reading my natal chart. Learning how to read it so I can understand what it means. Planets, houses, aspects, sun signs, rising signs, the moon. They are also mirrors. Have you seen this in your life? How about this? Learning.

The induction range came yesterday. Two Latino guys delivered it, then called later in the day to tell me the old range was on its way to someone that needed it. Glad to hear that. Kept intending to check my cookware with a magnet. Finally did it yesterday. So. My cast iron skillet. I knew that one. And, thankfully, my big stock pot which I use for soups. The rest, however? Not so much. I’ll give them to Jon or to the Mountain Resource Center. Buying a new set. Feels rights. New kitchen. New stove. New pots and pans.

Saw Jackie, who calls me honey. She colored Kate’s hair and cut it for several years before I started going along. She’s a sweetheart. Reminds me that there are other, more peripheral folks in my life who are loving, too. Now that I’ve looked up from the mirror of grief, I see so much love, so many places.

Today is an open day. Full workout, futzy inbox stuff, work on my Tarot and Kabbalah class. No reason to leave home. Fine with me.

 

 

 

The Land of the Living

Moon of the Thinned Veil

Tuesday gratefuls: Induction range on its way. Goodbye dangerous polluter. Last mini-split installed. The Loft. Electrician today to finish up? Kep and Rigel. To whom I’m a companion human. Thanks, Jon! The Subaru leaving to help CPR. And, me. John Ruthenberg. Gonna plow me for $30. Pruning, still underway. That New York Strip last night. Boiled potatoes, salad from Jon’s garden. A bit of ice cream.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark in communication again

Tarot: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana, Druid Craft

 

David’s back he said in the land of the living. Looked a bit peaked still to me. Back in the land of the living hit me for the first time as an odd way to talk about recovery from illness. Made me wonder about its origins. Some diseases thin the veil for us, remind us of our 100% fatal disease. Life. And what of the time while we’re sick. Set apart, no longer normal. Dead to the life we know.

He works hard. Steady. Not a big guy. A bit taller than me, a thin frame. Very polite. Perhaps ex-military? Look forward to writing the check for this project’s completion. Coyote HVAC was a good choice.

Stiff Winds yesterday evening. Blew the leaves right off the Aspens on my property. A golden Rain, Snow. Gold skirts around the base of each Tree. Opened up the Sky over my bedroom window. Last night the Stars were clear and high, easy to see from my pillow. Winter is coming.

Orion has returned. An old and trusted friend. The Winter Sky is my favorite of the year. No Aurora’s here in Colorado. I miss those. I could stand on my front porch in Andover and watch curtains of green light oscillate across the Northern Sky. Orion and his faithful Dog, Canis Major, return each fall.

The Hermitage will be ready for the first snows of the season. Mini-splits installed. A new kitchen at least underway. The neon Hermit sign hung on the wall with care.

The season enters a new phase when the Aspen Leaves get blown off their Branches. The Groves become skeletal, ready to survive heavy wet Snows, carrying on conversations below Ground as the Air grows cold. We Humans add layers as Winter descends. Deciduous Trees do the opposite.

Winds hitting 24 mph whir the anemometer on my weather station. A few Aspen Leaves left to go, but not the bigger Trees.

This Sunday Samain kicks off Holiseason which runs until January 6th, the Feast Day of the Epiphany. I’ve created an offrenda for Kate up here in the loft. When it’s done, I’ll post a picture. It’s a family offrenda, too. Kate is the only one on the other side of the veil.

Rigel ate the ostrich feather duster yesterday. And, the day before she chewed the fur from the turtle rattle I bought for Kate. She’s an ornery girl sometimes.

Kep’s sorta my loft dog. Sometimes. When he feels like it. Right now he’s sleeping nearby.

Three things happening today: Astrology and Kabbalah class. Induction range delivered and installed with the old one hauled away. Hair cut with Jackie. Tomorrow just trash. Included by default: cardio today, full body workout tomorrow.

On Thursday I’m going to lead the Mussar group because Carol, who was going to lead, was in a wreck and is now in the hospital. Life.

 

 

 

 

A Mentor, a teacher

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

Rabbi Jamie and congregant

Friday gratefuls: Mussar. Rabbi Jamie. Luke. Mario. Tom. Paul. Bill. Mark and Mary. Diane. Second Fall. Jodie. Blue Mountain Kitchens. Joseph, 40 on Sunday. Seoah and Murdoch. Making things beautiful. Pruning, slow but steady. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My boy turning 40

Tarot: The Wheel, #10 in the Major Arcana

 

Good exercise yesterday. Cardio. Not yet on the HIIT, gonna plan it a bit more. Had more than half of the time near heart rate max. What I need more of.

Got a call from Isaac, Coyote HVAC coordinator. David is still sick. Start up again on Monday, hopefully give him the weekend to recover. This is the nicest, kindest contractor with whom I’ve ever worked. The owner said he believed it was good business. Me, too.

For a long time I’ve wondered about mentors and teachers. Everybody I know seems to have at least one that affected their direction in life. That saw them, identified something others didn’t see. Not me. I appreciated the Gaither’s casting me as the lead in Our Town. And, Miss Hull’s calling in chits to make me President of the 1965 Model U.N. for Indiana. But neither one changed my life. Greg Membrez was a wonderful Latin teacher, gentle and understanding. But, no.

On me, I know. Self-directed. Moi. Perhaps guarded, too? Which is not to say that I failed to learn from or appreciate many of the teachers I had. To the contrary. Philosophy. Anthropology. J. Harry Cotton. Dr. Scruton. Dr. Larry Hackestaff. Bob Bryant in constructive theology. Art Merrill in the Hebrew scriptures. I learned from them, appreciated their knowledge, and their teaching. But, at the personal level? No.

Raphael. School of Athens 1509-1510

Until Rabbi Jamie. He’s taught me about appreciative inquiry, learning from whatever you read, whoever you meet, wherever you are. Going in with the attitude that though this book may have things I don’t like, it can still have things to teach me. I’m not saying this well, because it sounds obvious.

Let’s see. With appreciative inquiry you can find positive and important ideas even in works, people, or places you might otherwise gloss over. This is about radical acceptance of the other.

He’s also the best question asker I’ve encountered in a classroom or learning situation. His questions, his style of dialogue encourages going further with an idea, deeper.

I’ve taken several classes from him: Kabbalah, Tarot, Torah study. In each one he includes a presentation session, the last one, where each student can do whatever they want to show what they’ve learned.

In his tutelage I’ve become a less combative learner, (less, not passive), willing to hear the sentences of the Orthodox Jew on Jewish values and find the middot there. He has subtly reinforced my own beliefs, by supporting me when I express them in his classes. Since I’m a goyim in a synagogue, pagan me finds this amazing.

I told him all this. This week. I’m trying to not let time go by without telling people I care about how I feel. Yes, partly Kate’s death. Yes, partly my own mortality. Mostly though just trying to be more transparent, easier to know.

Found after I told him that I was shy, a little embarrassed to see him again. Almost skipped mussar. Decided no. Silly. Weird. And, not weird. Going beyond the veil of Rabbi and congregant. Not often done in synagogues. Or, churches either, though more so in synagogues.

Lucky to have met him. And, Beth Evergreen.

Jodi from Blue Mountain comes with the cabinetmaker at 11:00. I want to live in a beautiful space. I’m doing the things I can to make that happen. Pruning. Staining the house. Installing ac for a delightful indoor climate. Remodeling the kitchen. Planning to rearrange all the furniture, create conversation areas, reading areas. TV space. Probably paint some inside walls, definitely rehang art.

Next year there will be other projects. Outside. Perhaps another bathroom remodel. Seeking a hermitage with inspiration and aesthetic value.

 

 

 

 

Breathing Easier

Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

mini-split upstairs

Friday gratefuls: Jon, meeting him for lunch at the New York Deli. David, with Coyote HVAC. And, his helper. Marilyn, Ron, Rich, Tara, and Susan at MVP. Hitlamdut, or the middot of curiosity. Lisa, the respiratory therapist. My values on the spirometer test. Snow yesterday.

Sparks of joy and awe: OK to live here on Shadow Mountain

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the major arcana

 

Not to bury the lede. Lisa, my pulmonologist’s p.a. equivalent, ran a spirometry test on me yesterday. If you haven’t had one, they’re simple. After clipping my nostrils shut, she gave me a device, see above, into which I inhaled a deep breath and then blew out for six seconds. Harder than it sounds.

We knew I had a breathing problem caused by my paralyzed left diaphragm; this measured its affect. And any other breathing issues as well. Not sure exactly what the numbers mean yet, but here’s what I do know: post-polio syndrome is not progressive and I can live up here as long as I feel able.

Admit I had some worry that the test would reveal a progressive issue that could force me to move to lower ground. Could have made all this work I’m having done seem foolish. Ready, fire, aim. That’s me. Not sorry. I mean, I did it anyway didn’t I?

There is some additional restriction, possibly from smoking, but it’s reversible using alubetrol, a bronchodilator. That means I’m good to remain in the Hermitage as long as I want. I felt lighter after this visit. Some good news at last.

Two more pieces of good news. I hadn’t considered that left-sided paraylisis of my diaphragm was a good thing. That’s because the right lung has two lobes and the left only one, to make space for the heart. Also, and this is a big duh, but, hey! Exercise that works my core strengthens the muscles that help me breathe, including my right diaphragm. Guess who’s gonna get religious about core work? Moi.

 

 

 

After playing who’s responsible for that axumin scan bill, I’m going to pay it. $1,100. And, a test I’ll have at least each year. Not happy. Means I’ll use this enrollment period for Medicare Advantage plans to hunt for a new plan.

I need to do that anyhow-though I can tell you that I want to do it as bad I want to walk across broken glass-because I learned in the calls about the scan that my doctor, Leigh Thompson, left the practice. And, no one has told me! This after my long time physician retired in January. New West Physicians has a bunch of problems. This one is the last bit of evidence I need.

Another piece of good news. At least potential good news. A Fairplay cabinet maker is looking to break into the Front Range market and may be willing to do my cabinets both earlier than we’d planned and at the same cost as Blue Mountain’s bid. His work is superb.

Last night at MVP we discussed hitlamdut, the middot, or soul characteristic, of curiosity. Got to use my Roger, the little microphone I set on the table. It bluetooths cleaned up speech to my hearing aid. It’s a marvel.

CBE’s new amphitheater will have a soft open on November 5th. Not finished, but close.

 

A Busy Week

Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

Monday gratefuls: Quest lab. Blood draw. PSA. Testosterone. Metabolic panel. CBC. Safeway pharmacy: flu and third Covid push. Down the hill in Lakewood. Closest. Albuterol. Frozen dinners. HVAC, mini-splits. Going ahead. House staining. Starts Wednesday. Bear Creek Design on Thursday. Painting.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Universe. Ohr.

Tarot:   The Moon, #18 in the major arcana

 

First blood draw on Orgovyx. A month into the prescription. Blood sugar and triglycerides can both go up. Putting the dipstick in the PSA reservoir, too. And, logically, my testosterone level. I have a, let’s get this blood work done early in the day sorta thing. Expresses my willingness to stay on top of the predatory invasion, stay ahead of it. And to know what’s really going on.

A bit nervous though not as much as the first time after I finished radiation. Thought, hoped, for a cure then. Not so now. Surveillance, making sure the cancer doesn’t break out of the starvation prison we’re putting it in.

Gonna hit the Safeway Pharmacy, too. Quest labs has an office in the Lakewood Safeway. There I’ll get, I hope, a flu shot and my third Pfizer push. Doing what I can to stay alive.

Which I appreciate. That I’m doing those kinda things. Means I’m rolling along with a desire to be here. What I want.

Quite the week. A chart reading by Elisa Robyn. My CBE astrologer. May take a class with her from Kabbalah Experience. Astrology and the Tarot. Blue Mountain Kitchens to choose kitchen cabinets, counter top, backsplash. Tuesday. Wednesday house staining begins. Thursday Bear Creek Design come out for a kitchen redesign session. Mussar that day, too, and coffee with David, my fellow advanced prostate cancer guy from CBE. After at the Muddy Buck. Alan for lunch on Friday, then Kristie, my oncologists P.A., at 2:30 that day. But wait! There’s more. On Saturday a memorial service for my personal trainer who died of glioblastoma in June of 2020. The first class of my Gates of Light Tree of Life spread course with Mark Horn. Later in the afternoon, Jackie for a hair cut. Whew.

The next week is calmer.

Picked the Moon, #18 of the major arcana, again. Deep into feminine mysteries. My anima poked once more.

Ta. Off for Quest Labs.