Category Archives: Mussar

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Mussar

Breathing Easier

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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.

 

Astrology, Coronavirus, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mussar, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Painting, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

A Busy Week

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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.

 

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Friends, Kabbalah, Mountains, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Yesterday and Today

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Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

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.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Year Spread

Tarot: Three of Cups

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.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rain

Tarot: Two of Wands

 

 

 

Thursday

Did myself a service yesterday. Writing about my feelings, then choosing to exercise after my Tarot and Kabbalah class. Lifted my mood. Finished my cardio day today. 30 minutes. 5 minutes longer at 3.0 My IT band complained so that may not have been a great idea.

Got a few errands to take care of today, then I’m going to mussar at CBE. So, short post.

Yesterday I picked up groceries from Safeway, finished my Tarot and Kabbalah class, exercised, and felt good. Getting exercise in always makes me feel better. Also, errand completion.

That’s why I’m going to take off in a few minutes. Gotta get my title revised, register Ruby for the upcoming year, buy some sourdough bread and get breakfast. Donate diapers and feeding tube liquid to Mt. Evan’s Hospice. I keep forgetting to do that.

 

Friday

Went to the DMV to change Ruby’s title into my name, get new tabs for my plates. Like the Social Security administration a guard, this time a deputy sheriff, was at the door. Have to have an appointment. Oh. Woulda saved me an hour the guy in the leather vest and cowboy hat said. Me, too, I joined in.

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.

Looked over the clever sheets  David from Tarot and Kabbalah had created using a color printer. He printed out all of the Rider-Waite deck using a color printer. The copies he used for himself, hung by his computer were quite large, but he gave us all color copies, too, on eight and a half by eleven thick paper, six sheets in all. The Major Arcana take up two sheets and each suit has its own sheet.

This is in service of becoming familiar with each card in the deck and the deck over all. Very helpful. Gonna figure out how to do that for the Druid Craft and Wildwood decks at least. Learning the individual cards can seem overwhelming, this gives the task a gestalt it’s hard to get without putting the cards on a table face up.

Also signed up for a four session class with Mark Horn, who’s written a book The Kabbalistic Tarot. This class will feature a Tree of Life spread. Starts in October. Learning turns my crank, keeps me moving, the engine purring.

Van-Leyden St. Jerome in his Study by Candlelight (1520)

Just remembered that it’s fall, or at least fall-like. Certainly meteorological fall. A season of transition for temperatures, plant life, animal life. Hyperphagia. The Rut. And, for me, often a time of melancholy. So much so that Kate and I had phrase for her to say, “I sense you’re falling into melancholy,” when she saw the signs. Have to channel that part of Kate from now on.

The recent shift in my feelings, less upbeat, less resilient are markers I recognize. As is a leaden feeling in my body, a sense that I might be telescoping downwards, toward my feet. Mom died in October. The school year starts. The turn toward darkness is well underway. Two hours more of darkness for this date than on the Summer Solstice.

Michaelmas, the Springtime of the Soul, comes on the 29th of September. It may be that melancholy is a tool the psyche uses to prepare us for Michaelmas. Turning us inward, focusing us on the more narrow ambit of our own life.

Gonna stick with it for a while, remaining conscious of melancholy’s potential to turn toward depression. Use it.

See you on the darkside.

 

 

 

 

Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Mussar, Tarot

The Fire This Time

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Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

August, 2017

Tuesday gratefuls: Mary’s card. Alan. Pet scans. Cancer. Urology Associates. Rigel, snuggling in with her head next to mine last night. Dogs. All of them. Each of them. Blue Sky. Green Lodgepoles and Aspen. Oxygen. 8,800 feet. Shadow Mountain. The Rocky’s.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: No name baby Giblin

Tarot: Princess of Wands

 

PET scan at 1 pm today. Nothing but water after 9 am. The ritual rules now applying to me, not Kate. Wear soft clothes with no metal. BYOB. Bring your own benzodiazepine. (for my claustrophobia) Got my single pill yesterday at King Sooper Pharmacy. $.06. I plan to take it at the same time as the axumin injection.

Paul’s daughter Claire had her Baby! In August, pretty close to Kate’s birthday. New life. The wheel turns.

Tomorrow a bone density scan. Friday, the new hearing aids. A positively body week.

Tomorrow is the next to last Tarot and Kabbalah class. I’ve gotten a lot from this class. Mirrors of the soul. Or, better, mirrors for the soul. Take the Princess of Wands I drew today.

Wands are a fire suit, focused on the spirit, on chi, prana, life force. The Princess brings the earth element to fire, representing the role of Malkut, the physical realm, in the Fool’s journey of the spirit. Malkut is this world where the Shekinah, the anima of divinity, rules. The Princess in my daily draw adds to the cards speaking to my anima.

Cancer is a fire burning through my physical body, affecting my nephesh, my animal soul. It brings fatigue, weakness, struggle. Yet fire is, too, the element of spirit. And, yes, even cancer has its role in the Fool’s journey of my spirit.

Mortality, a signal characteristic of Malkut, often hides behind career, fear, distractions. And, Quests for meaning, or money, or fame. We put mortality behind the Wizard of Oz curtains of success, reward, trophies.

Cancer sets fire to those ambitions, those frail and evanescent forms of the earthly. Into its fire goes health, focus, even life itself.

As its flames burn hotter, it sears away the dross of expectations leaving room for nothing but soul. It may even burn away the physical body, sending the nephesh on its journey back up the Tree of life to the crown, the keiter. Because nothing is lost. Transformation is the only rule.

The Princess of Wands is this transformation of the earthly into the spirit’s furnace. She reminds us, me, that even cancer can be a tool for spiritual growth, for change.

Mussar practice:

Name the context-The day of my PET scan. Putting location and quantity to my cancer. A day of truth. Truth used to help my body last as long as it can.

Name the feelings: Fear. Mild anxiety. Calmness. Curiosity. Acceptance.

Choose which ones to express: Calm. Curiosity. Acceptance.

Family, Feelings, Hawai'i, Mussar, Tarot, Third Phase, Woolly Mammoths

The Alembic

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Summer and the full Lughnasa Moon

Saturday gratefuls: A wonderful dinner with Tom at the Bistro last night. Tom’s help in pruning Kate’s clothing and sewing stuff. Friendship. Judgement card. Rain and cooler weather at night.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A close friend

Tarot card: Judgement, 20th card of the Major Arcana

 

 

Tarot? So far, remarkable. I apologize if this particular journey of mine doesn’t resonate with yours. I understand. But when, after weeks and months of mourning, grieving I pull a card that one interpreter says: “…represents the results of the fruits of your spiritual work. In an upright position, it’s relief from a difficult journey.”, it jumps out at me.

Or, this: “To see this card can…indicate that you are in a period of awakening, brought on by the act of self-reflection.”

Grief, in its most profound sense, is a period of forced self-reflection, a mental and emotional (lev) upheaval that begins with a hurricane of pain and tears, mourning, that gradually dissipates in intensity. As the shock and horror of mourning fades, grieving can begin.

What pronouns do I use now? Is it still our house? Our car? Her clothes? Our life? How do I react when I see the toothbrush, the hair brush, the favorite t-shirt? The picture? When someone speaks kindly of her, of me, what emotions surface?

What does it mean, in other words, that I’m alive and she is dead? That’s a first and critical theme of grief. Another, equally critical theme is, who will I be? And, how will I be?

Kate, Glenwood Springs

Tom helped me with pruning Kate’s belongings. I know I’m making changes. Necessary changes. Some hard, some less hard. My life now continues without Kate’s physical presence.

A remodeling of the kitchen, the upstairs bathroom, perhaps a few smaller projects, feels like a right expression of this new life. Yesterday I contacted two remodelers for bids. We’ll see where all this goes. Changing the outer to affect the inner. A mussar principle. Not the only way of affecting the inner, of course, but a valid one.

Working out, I hope, will let me get some hiking in. Right now I’m under-oxygenated and sore hipped when I walk outside. If that continues, I’ll have to reexamine my assumptions, especially about staying here.

Studying, learning, writing. All within the next month or so. I can feel it. Is this is a new person? No. Is it a person I want to be? Yes.

Reading more would insert an older, longed for avatar back into the present day. I’ve been a caregiver, with my first and last energy, and that guy fell by the way. More TV, less reading.

Is Hawai’i off the table? How about Korea? Or, Taipei. What about travel, a cruise maybe when it seems safe? More Jewishness? More Kabbalah? More Tarot?

Matthias Grunewald

“It’s a card of resurrection, conclusions, renewal, and evolution.” This makes sense to me. Resurrecting dormant avatars, renewing my life given drastically changed circumstances, evolving into the third phase widower guy.

The streak of cards I’ve had since a week ago Wednesday have challenged my flat-earth humanist skeptic heart. And, mind. Keep on rollin’. I’ll learn about spreads at some point, too. Maybe more information.

 

 

“To see this card can also indicate that you are in a period of awakening, brought on by the act of self-reflection. You now have a clearer idea of what you need to change and how you need to be true yourself and your needs.

Judgement is the twentieth card of the Major Arcana. Its order is significant: it’s the last card before the completion of the Major Arcana’s numerical cycle. It’s a card of resurrection, conclusions, renewal, and evolution.” Labyrinthos

 

“The Judgement card is a powerful harbinger of spiritual metamorphosis. Like the Justice card, it’s a card of karma —although of the spiritual variety. It represents the results of the fruits of your spiritual work. In an upright position, it’s relief from a difficult journey.

When the Judgement card shows up in a reading it can signal a spiritual awakening or time of profound insight. You’ll find yourself having powerful epiphanies regarding parts of your life that are holding you back from growth. It’s an affirmation: that know, you aren’t crazy, you aren’t alone, and it was all worth the effort.

Arthur Waite in the Key to the Tarot connects this card to personal evolution. It can certainly usher in a period of transformation and rebirth in your life.”  tarotluv

 

Family, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mussar

Life Incidental

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Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Conifer P.T. Hearing care. Leigh Thompson. Health Care Imaging. Jon and his pain. Ruth and Gabe. Kep and Rigel, who couldn’t wait. Happy Camper. Widower, being one. CBE.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: X-Rays. Medical care.

The Cuna Islands off Panama

What I call the medical stretch of Co. Hwy. 470, heading south from 285. Went on it yesterday for the first time since Kate died, alone. To see my (our) doc, Leigh Thompson. A pang of remembrance that our outings for the last year plus came along this stretch of road and the one leading to Swedish Hospital.

Dr. Thompson said she was sorry about Lynne’s death. And, she was. She tried to help, but Kate’s situation had progressed too far for successful intervention. She didn’t even know her well enough to call her Kate. Dr. Thompson also probed me for signs of depression, complicated grief. Do you have a good support system? Yes.

Where does it (did it) hurt? Here, here. Along my right leg, upper thigh, above my sacrum. How much better is it now? 60-80%. Why was I there? I wanted to get back to exercise, but not aggravate, worsen the pain. And, I didn’t know how it happened.

We agreed on physical therapy. Which I love. Targeted and helpful. Clear instructions. I’ll get a path back to regular exercise. Which I want and need. Also, X-rays.

I admit. Incidental findings. Often the punch behind the actual reason for the imaging. Hope they don’t find metastasized cancer. David and Charlie both have prostate cancer growing in their sacrums. Don’t want it in mine.

Jon had another panic attack bringing Ruth and Gabe up here. He didn’t get out of the city. Called an ambulance. Went back home. Jen picked up the kids. Not sure what’s going on, but I imagine grief playing a large role.

Now I have p.t. to schedule and a hearing exam. Yes, I got right on that hearing issue I had at the airport in Hawai’i. Approach the problem and deal with it. Keep moving.

Waiting on a call back from social security.

Today I’m going back to mussar for the first time in over a year in person. Looking forward to resuming that study. I also signed up for another Rabbi Jamie class through the Kabbalah Experience. A focus on the kabbalistic roots of the Tarot. I’ve had a long time interest in the tarot, waxing and waning. Wrote one book that featured chaos magic. I used a lot of tarot card lore in it. Starts mid-July.

Keep moving. Stay in the present, but keep moving. Is that an oxymoron? Xeno’s paradox in modern psyche help shorthand.

 

Aging, Coronavirus, Family, Feelings, Friends, GeekWorld, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Minnesota, Mussar, Myth and Story, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Paying the Price

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Fall and the RBG Moon

Monday gratefuls: Groveland. The Ancient Ones. The ancientrails of wondering and friendship. The Darkness. The Stars, now steady. Kate’s stoma site. Getting clear and healthy. Kate. Just Kate, always Kate. Exposure. Fear. 28 degrees this a.m. The Gold in them thar Hills: Aspen. Magwa, the hero Rat. The clan.

So what happens to me. I over prepare. I go deep but the subject has only so much time. I’m disappointed. Did I give them anything? Did I intervene too little? Was I defensive? Will they want me back? Especially yesterday with It’s Beyond Me.

Zoom of course. Perhaps my choice of style, a discussion rather than a straight presentation. The inherent ambiguity of the topic. Felt off when it finished.

Also, I need this. I need to try something new. Learn something new. Be in this zoom moment as an actor, not only a passive observer.

Watched Social Dilemma on Netflix. The second of three documentary recommendations from the ancient ones. Again, not much new. Still, disturbing. I’m writing this in Firefox, using duckduckgo as my search engine. I practice good hygiene on Facebook and still love the old friends and Irish Wolfhounds. I heard the young, bright manipulators, but did not hear the path forward. Unless it’s regulation. Which is a duh unless you hate regulation as evil government intervention. I’m for it.

As I changed Kate’s bandage yesterday, we talked. I’m wondering how we can lift ourselves out of, or away from, this medicalization? I mean, I don’t want to see you as a patient all the time, but with all these appointments and treatments, it’s hard. Our life is not that. Yet, it is.

Right then, Rabbi Jamie called, wondering how Kate was? She mentioned this thought I’d just had. He listened. He had some time before Yom Kippur and wanted to connect with some folks. They miss us. We’ve been absent even from zoom mussar for over a month.

Covid. Makes all this hard. Kate can’t go to Patchworkers or Needleworkers. We don’t go to mussar at CBE. Or, services. Or the occasional program. It will soon be Sukkot and the booth is up, but we’re not there to participate. Yes, this is life now. Yes, it has its price.

God, this is cheery.

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Friends, Health, Judaism, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase

Whole lotta billin’ goin’ on

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Lughnasa and the Labor Day Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Mussar MVP. Silence. Guarding speech. Ron. Susan. Jamie. Marilyn. Rich. Kate. Tara. Judy. Rigel’s temperature down to 102.1. Our emergency fund. Vanguard. Peak Windows. We can see clearly now. Kep keeping his humans safe. Clean gutters. Getting my password back for solar panel monitoring. Our mailbox with the door in the back. No more standing on the road to collect mail. Ruth and Gabe. Steven, the snail.

Rigel remains in the hospital with a guarded diagnosis. The iv antibiotics and steroids seem to be bringing her fever down, but the chances of a stroke remain, and will remain even if she survives this episode. This is due to what doctors charmingly call vegetation on her mitral valve. If this vegetation breaks loose, it could cause a pulmonary embolism or a stroke. Nothing to be done about that risk, either.

I go to sleep imagining myself with Rigel, testing a connection that is as strong as I’ve had with a dog. Rigel lies in her crate, feeling miserable, and I try to comfort her. Probably hooey, but it makes me feel better.

You never realize how dirty your windows are until you’ve had them professionally cleaned. They’re transparent! Peak Windows came yesterday to celebrate Kate’s birthday. Did a great job. Clean gutters, too, heading into ice dam season. Also recommended for fire mitigation. Pine needles in the gutter can catch fire.

The last week showed how bills can stack up all of a sudden. Rigel in the vet hospital. Kate’s dentures. And, yesterday, my long-term care insurance. Yike. Not to mention quarterly taxes due next month. We’ve got it, but not without some pain.

Kate turned 76 yesterday. A quiet birthday though we’re going to celebrate on Saturday with Jon and the grandkids. With phone calls, Peak Windows, and Rigel in the hospital, then MVP which goes late for us, her birthday wore her out.

Here’s an interesting note. I wrote a post on Nextdoor Shadow Mountain extolling Easy Entrees. Got lots of hits. And, this morning I found a private message from Laura, who apparently owns Easy Entrees. My post brought tears to her eyes, she said. And, she deposited one hundred dollars in my Easy Entree account. Wow. Thanks, Laura.

Coronavirus, Dogs, Family, Friends, Health, Mussar, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Travel

One Day at a Time

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Summer and the Moon of Justice

Wednesday gratefuls: Simplicity. Does this idea bring me joy? Kondoing my thinking. Maybe. MVP. Rich. Susan. Marilyn. Tara. Judy. Zoom. Covid’s forced introspection. What matters in our daily life? What doesn’t? Seoah between Narita and Singapore. Picture of her with mask and faceshield on the plane. Kate finding Kep’s hotspots. Sano. Going down, coming back up.

On Shadow Mountain. The Sun rising, Black Mountain lit. The Air still cool. All the promise of a new day. Each day is the only day in which you’ll ever live. We’re all one day old, every day. Each morning we can choose to continue old patterns, the remnants of other days, or we can choose new habits, new actions. Even new thoughts. Each day is New Year’s. Old Mother Time melted away last night and the infant wrapped in the sash titled TODAY has succeeded her.

What will you do with this one wild and precious day?

We’re taking Kep to the vet. He has several new hotspots that have shown up on his back. Not sure why, not sure what to do next. So, we’re calling in Dr. Palmini.

Kate’s spirits took a dive yesterday when she discovered Kep’s hotspots. Seoah’s gone. She can’t hug Ruth and Gabe. Her stomach acted up. All got to be too much. She’s resilient though. Look at how she’s handled the multiple insults to her body.

Seoah will touch down in Singapore today. Or, rather, tomorrow. The mysteries of the International Date Line. Her flight gets in just after midnight Singapore time.

First Wednesday with no Kabbalah class since January. School’s out. Teachers let the monkeys out. Gonna take a rest over the summer, then pick up the Kabbalah thread again in the fall.

Groveland U.U., the congregation I joined soon after I left the Presbyterian ministry, wrote me a note yesterday asking if I would do some presentations for them over Zoom. An unexpected pleasure, made possible by your friend the Coronavirus.

MVP (Mussar Vaad Practice Group) met last night. The middot (character trait) we discussed was simplicity. As I’ve mentioned here before, mussar involved identifying a character trait and then creating a practice for yourself that you can use to strengthen it. There are many different lists of soul traits, some exhaustive, some short.

Once you find the middot or middah (plural) on which you need to work, you’ve defined what the mussar teachers call a soul curriculum. Judaism is very clear on the journey. You’ll make mistakes, regress. What’s crucial is to not stop. That may sound zealous, but it’s not. It’s a recognition of our humanity.

My practice, if I should choose to accept it, is to ask what thoughts bring me joy. Not sure yet whether I like this. I created it, so I can change it, but it seems interesting. Just not sure whether joy is a good criteria for thoughts. Even so, it intrigues me. I’ll give it a go for a while, see where it leads.

Aging, Family, Friends, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Poetry, Shadow Mountain, Talmud, Third Phase

I witness. I wait.

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Beltane and the Moon of Sorrow

Thursday gratefuls: MVP last night on calmness of soul. Calmness of soul. Kate’s many improvements, her seder practice. Seoah’s frittata. Rain. Thunder. Another cool morning. Pictures of nearby bears on Nextdoor Shadow Mountain. One really big guy. Cataracts maturing. The morning sun, rising bright.

I have no clue how others see me. For some reason. Weird to discover this at 73, but there you are. The person my ancient friends described a couple of weeks ago? Huh? I mentioned this to Kate and she said, well, you’ve never cared how others see you. True. And, not true. I mean, I want to be seen favorably; but, I’m not willing to pay for it with my integrity. No one wants to be reviled. At least I don’t think so. Not sure what this means, but it feels strange to realize.

Got pretty far behind on the Talmud. Questioning my commitment. Is it worth the amount of time required? Maybe not for me. I can’t tell if this question has arisen because I’ve let it slip, 7 days now, or because I find it interesting, but only sometimes. Maybe not enough to keep at it for seven and a half years? Yes, I like long projects. But. I also have to like the long project itself. Leaning toward bagging it.

Loft reorganization report. Yes, you might be surprised to know that this is still underway. Getting much closer, but the fiddly stuff toward the end always takes a while. Filing. Redoing some decisions. Maybe this week? Really looking forward to a finished job.

Why so slow? A major job. Paying attention to other things led to me piling books and papers here and there. Not exactly new, but I let it go on for a while. Then. OK. This is too much. Things have to change. Passed that point well over a month ago. I’m moving furniture, books, files, painting and sumi-e brushes, inks, paints. Had to clear off the tops of the book shelves to accommodate new additions to my library.

Also, I can only work on it for a limited period of time until I get weary. This is a psychic thing I don’t fully understand. Yes, there’s a lot of mental energy in deciding what to do with this and that, where that file or set of files needs to be, which books go together, how I can set up my painting and sumi-e to best support my work. OK. Maybe that explains it actually. Well, that plus Lupron.

Oh. Final introspection. My practice for calmness of soul is, whenever I see my image-mirror, zoom, elsewhere-I will recall this phrase from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself: I witness and I wait. See below.

From Song of Myself, Walt Whitman

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.

Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait