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  • What is truth?

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

    Kate, back from her hospitalization and rehab, covered in the friendship quilt from Baily Patchworkers. October, 2018

    Thursday gratefuls: Rich. Jamie. Marilyn. Susan. Truth. Emet. Luke and his new haircut. Alan. Pesach. Liberation. Slavery. Myth. Story. Legend. Ovid. Latin. Writing. Ukraine. Climate change. Democracy. Liberalism. High fire danger.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Emet.

     

    Oh, boy. Tired this morning. I was up until 11 p.m. last night. Could have been New Year’s. When I got back from the mussar group at CBE, a guy was in my driveway. Kep was barking at him. Go, Kep. I stopped and rolled down my window.

    I can’t get any cell service. I’m lost.

    My suspicion meter went up, but he seemed non-threatening.

    Could I use your phone?

    I handed him my phone through the car window. Still suspicious.

    My girlfriend. That’s her in the Jeep. He pointed to car lights nearby, the vehicle idling. She’s been drinking.

    OK.

    I live at 285 and Sheridan. I need to call a friend to come get me. (285 and Sheridan is in Lakewood, all the way down the hill.)

    He made two calls, both went to voicemail.

    The Jeep moved closer to my driveway. Well, maybe I’ll go talk to her. She’ll give me a ride home.

    Maybe she would let you drive?

    I doubt it.

    He left, talked through the Jeep’s window, got in and they drove away.

    Left me feeling conflicted. I was already past my bedtime. He was a stronger, younger male with a strange story that I couldn’t parse. Why was he walking alone, in the mountains, trying to find cell phone service? Even if his girlfriend had been drinking, what prompted him to leave her house and walk away into a Mountain Night when he lived so far away? He seemed sober and as I said, non-threatening.

    Woke up this morning wondering if he made it home ok. If I should have driven him home. Why didn’t I? Was I too tired? Too unsure of my ability to handle him if he was not as he appeared? Conflicted.

    Odd.

     

    Last night we talked about emet, the Hebrew word for truth. What a topic. See the above story. What was the truth of it? I didn’t know, couldn’t tell, and it made me nervous. So, lacking a way to discern the truth, I backed away. Afraid of a lie that might do me harm. The truth matters.

    But, as Pontius Pilate said, “What is truth?” That’s the rub. And, in this post-modern age, who’s truth are we talking about? Mine? Yours? This guy in my driveway? His girlfriends? Was this a case of domestic abuse? He didn’t seem harmed. What was going on?

    A lot ink has been spilled on the topic of truth. A lot. We came to no conclusions.

    We always have practices. Things we do over the month that will help sensitize us to the particular middot, character trait, and how it can fit into our day-to-day life. Marilyn came up with “I’m going to tell people how I feel about them more often.”

    I asked her if I could copy her. She said sure.

    Then, after we’d finished cleaning up, Rich and Jamie were back in the kitchen and I was ready to leave. I went back to tell them I was leaving. “I came tonight in person because  I knew you two would be here.” Jamie came over and gave me a big hug.

    As I left, I surprised myself, and I imagine them, too, by saying, “I love you guys. See you later.” I’ve gotten a little more comfortable with this, saying I love you to important people in my life with my Ancient Brothers and I’m glad it’s spilling over. Because. It’s the truth.


    Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Judaism Kabbalah Mussar Shadow Mountain

  • O2. Feeling a little down

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Snow. About 18 inches or so. Steel gray Sky over a whitened Black Mountain. Kep slogging through the Snow. Loving it. O2 saturation low yesterday. ?. The life of the mind. The life of the body. Life. Kate, always Kate. David Sanders. Jon. Lungs. Air. Altitude. Vince.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Vince, a genuinely good guy

     

    First loft snow day ever yesterday. I just didn’t climb the stairs. Too much snow. Spring. Not sure why but my 02 saturation went down into the 70’s and low 80’s for much of the day yesterday. If that continues, I’ll have to go see Kristine and/or a pulmonologist. I can handle it because I have three stand alone oxygen concentrators and one portable one from Kate’s o2 needs, but geez. Like to know why.

    Took my first levothyroxine this morning. Fussy drug. You have to take it thirty minutes to an hour before food and other drugs. It needs an empty stomach for adequate absorption. Not a problem for me since I can take it when I get up, feed Kep, come here to write Ancientrails, then go back down for breakfast and my morning meds. Well, a little problem. No coffee for an hour either. But, I’m a big boy. In a couple of months my energy level should improve.

     

    Jon has a show opening at DAVA today. Not sure who the other artists are. Evenings out, with all the snow, are no longer my thing, so I’ll see it later. He’s printing a lot these days. Glad to see.

     

    Had to put on my O2 early in the day yesterday. Not usual. Had it on during my session with David. Too loud. Took it off. Oxygen concentrators and bad hearing don’t go well together. Always a bit of a shock for folks to see with me the O2.

     

    Mussar yesterday on lashon hara, the evil tongue. In all cases but this one-so far-I have found the character traits of mussar congenial to my own understanding of what a good person would do. This one seems convoluted and over the top to me. Held to rigorously it would prevent telling a friend how your kids are doing. Even if they ask. The idea is to prevent gossip. Thought through it also would halt most of the news and, even a lot of this blog.

    In my own view, kavanah, or intention is the more critical idea. Yes, when gossiping is about tearing someone else down. No, when it’s lifting them up. Yes, when the reporting is necessary to call attention to corruption, malfeasance, bad acting. Judaism places a great deal of emphasis on clean speech and I honor that. Lashon hara stretches the idea to far for me.

    I may need further understanding since some of what I just read seems to agree with me. It may be that Rabbi Jamie’s take is to one extreme.

     

    Felt strange. Not good. Not coming up here yesterday. I put on my Sorel’s and clumped up here today. The lights were still on on the railing. This is a gift from Kate. She wove the lights around the banister and set the timing. Quite a while ago.

     

    Feeling a little down today. Don’t like the O2 saturation from yesterday. Seems ok today. Don’t like feeling tired, weak. A bit sad about being alone. Missing Kate. And Rigel. This is mood, not melancholy. It will pass.

     

     

     

     


    Family Feelings Fourth Phase Health Mussar Shadow Mountain Weather +Climate

  • It’s a New Day

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

    Tom and Bill, Guanella Pass

    Friday gratefuls: Jon’s ok. Ruth, growing up. That weird sandwich. Not so ok with my stomach. The anniversary. The people who helped me through it. Chicken soup. Soul. Mine. Trying to find it. Searching for soul. Lev and the mouth. Tom’s 74th. Astrology. Tarot. Kabbalah. Jon’s art. My writing. Water from the Chalice Well. Carolyn Levy. Seoah and her interview this morning.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grief and its depth

    Tarot:

     

    Kep’s raggedy look. I brush him and brush him and brush him. Taking off as much fur as any dog probably has on them at any one time, yet he has still more. And yet more comes. The second coat of a cold adapted dog breed. A damned nuisance.

    On the other hand. He doesn’t slobber. Which both Vega and Rigel did. Their Coyote Hound inheritance. Both the constant shedding and the slobber were new to Kate and me. Irish Wolfhounds and Whippets don’t have either. We had to adjust. Still adjusting.

    5 degrees again this morning. This last couple of weeks have reminded me of Minnesota, creating the sort of icy conditions better suited to flatland. Colorado drivers don’t understand it. After 40 years in Minnesota, my instincts are intact. Won’t say an icy curve can’t catch me off guard, but I’ve got a better chance than most of the folks I routinely drive with.

    Made it through yesterday. Remembering. Loving the remembering and being saddened by it and gladdened by it. I did what I said I would. Moved Kate’s ashes and her signature red glasses to a niche behind my computer, behind me right now. Rigel, too. Both weighed about the same. Rigel’s big paw print in plaster of paris and a sweet card from the folks at Sano, acknowledging Rigel as a very sweet dog who will be missed. By us all. My two ladies, now elsewhere, gone from here. Not from the soft squishy thing in my skull however.

    I can feel yet more plate tectonics in my soul. Subduction pushing up long buried hopes and dreams while carrying surface worries and false paths below. Something about writing going down. Something about people and this house rising. The grief orogeny changing the once flat plain of my old life. New peaks and valleys coming into existence, old ones disappearing.

    Cousin Diane said something that stuck with me. Sounds like prioritizing exercise is important. Yes. Broke a logjam in my thinking that kept pressing writing and exercise into a face off for my time. Health comes first. I should know this already after watching Kate’s steady, sad decline. But, I didn’t have it. I’m going to get my 30 minutes plus in five days a week. We’ll see how the rest of the schedule takes shape with that as the priority.

    Realizing right now that I have lived through a major life crisis with the folks at CBE. They knew Kate well. And, me. They knew we came as a pair. If she was there, I was there, and vice versa. Except for board meetings and when I did physical work. They were with us through her long illness and are now with me in my grief. Holding me in love and kindness.

    Told David again, I don’t want to convert. Might be a little bit repetitive on that one. But, I said, I’m so drawn to the people, the tribe. Not the torah or the kabbalah or the talmud or even the regular services, but the community. I told him about dating three Jewish women at the same time after my divorce from Raeone. Not sure why, just happened. Well, probably not.

    He said something very interesting. Sometimes those kind of things happen after events in a past life. Oh. That felt oddly right. Something to explore as this new life, this new day, makes me feel good.

    This video surprised me by being a prompt, a hope, a dance I want. Not there yet, but on the way. A new ancientrail.

    “Dragonfly out in the sun you know what i mean dont you know
    Butterflies all havin’ fun you know what I mean
    Sleepin’ peace when day is done that’s what I mean
    And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me” Nina Simone

    Kate loved dragonflies and butterflies, so here you go:


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mountains Mussar Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Results not guaranteed

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Snow. Kate. Our 32 plus years together. Her laugh. Her wry humor. Her keen intelligence. Her knowledge of cooking and medicine. And classical music. Her. Kep, snuggling this morning before we got up. MVP. Forbearance. Savlanut. Diane. March on Shadow Mountain.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Diane, cousin and friend

    Tarot: How can my new life emerge from my grief?

    spread: current situation, obstacle, advice

    Cards: queen of stones, bear. seven of stones, clearance. three of arrows, jealousy.

     

    And so the anniversary heads into the evening. Early, starting this blog. Talking to Diane. Then, 30 minutes on the treadmill. After. David Sanders. A talk about art and life. About Faure’s requiem and Up on Cripple Creek. Over to mussar to be with friends. Drive to Marshdale Burger and get an improbable burger/corned beef, sauerkraut and thousand island dressing with tater tots. Mountain health food.

    On the way back get a call from Ruth. Jon had a seizure in the class room and got taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Ruth leaning into the situation, handling it. Still uncertain as to what caused the seizure.

    First anniversary without my Kate. Peopled with friends and family. Soothing. A few tears at mussar. Some last night thinking about, something. Something random. Kep came up, his worried look on, nuzzled me. I kissed his furry head.

    David and I talked about a sheet I filled out for him, a sheet of open ended questions. We got through two of the questions. Life is… Short, art is long. Two favorite songs. I remembered why Faure’s Requiem meant so much to me.

    Carolyn Levy and I went to the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. The cello concerto left me in tears. Grieving my marriage to Raeone, to being alone, to not knowing what came next. A heart thing. Deep. In fact I think it may have been the night I decided Carolyn wasn’t the one. A smart, beautiful, talented woman. Just not for me.

    Up on Cripple Creek includes this line: A drunkard’s dream if I ever did see one. And I know that to be a lie. A drunkard’s dream would be a nightmare, one bringing disability and death.

    Dave said I was a wonderful person and a wonderful teacher. Therapist talk, yeah, still nice to hear.

    32 in gematria, both David and Jamie said, is heart. Kabbalah has a saying, have the heart and the mouth in line with each other. Authenticity. Yes. Today, this 32nd celebration of our wedding is all about heart for me. I speak that celebration on these pages. To her, wherever she may be. To myself, still here. To Jon, in University hospital. To Ruth, acting like a grown-up.

    As Mindy said, one of the things she learned after the death of her husband was that she had to become friends with sadness. Yes. Sadness tells the heart’s tale. Its yearning for that which was, which now cannot be. Yet, it also speaks of the depth of love, the honor of a long time together, the truth of two hearts that beat as one.

    Don’t know what the evening holds with Jon. With Ruth and Gabe. Whatever it is, it is an extension of our marriage, our choice to be here with them. Living our promise. Enough. Results not guaranteed.


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mussar Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Charlie’s Difficult, Wonderful Week

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon

    At the VRCC, Jan. 2018

    Thursday gratefuls: Rigel. Her death. Kep. That hole in my heart. Tom. Here. Cannabis. Leah. Marilyn and Irv. Susan Marcus and Thoreau. Rich Levine. Dr. Palmini. VRCC. The new kitchen. The new furniture and lamp. Snow. A good bit. Stopped early morning. Plowed Black Mountain Drive. Bright Sun. Robin Egg’s Sky. White Lodgepoles and a white Black Mountain.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rigel’s death. And, her life.

     

    My life flows on in endless song,
    above earth’s lamentation.
    I catch the sweet, though far-off hymn
    that hails a new creation.    The Hymnary

    Yes, it’s surprising, but this is how I feel. Eager for the new creation while sad about Rigel, about Kate, about the life that included them in the body. No, I’m not moving out of the present moment. I anticipate nothing. I regret nothing. I yearn for nothing.

    Part of this equilibrium I have Tom Crane to thank for. He came here, to Shadow Mountain. And cousin Diane Keaton, my best person when Kate and I married. I speak with her once a week. Part of it has to do with the Great Wheel which has turned for Kate and Rigel and will one day turn for me. Part of it has do with the loving and loved members of Congregation Beth Evergreen and the Ancient Brothers. They hold me in a fine net of their care, mystic cords of love.

    And, of course, part of it lies within me. One now turned toward the earth rather the heavens of the old three story universe. One reading the torah of mother nature, listening to midrash about her. Her oral torah loosed in the songs of birds, the bugling of the elk, the silence of snow falling.

    Leaving now for breakfast with Tom. More in a while.

    Kate, Nov. 29th, 2019

    No, the deep sorrow has not left me. If someone says something kind about Kate or the conversation turns to death and dying, sometimes tears will press up, coming from a holy well of honor for her, for us. This will, I imagine, lessen over time. It did with my mother. It has with each of the dogs. Vega’s death took the longest to assimilate because she died suddenly and after we had been gone for four weeks.

    Tom’s willingness to be here and his actual presence has, as my Jewish friends say of the deceased, been for a blessing. We know each other. Pain. Flaws. Joys. Anguish. Inner compasses aligned.

    Kep and I have begun to negotiate life after Rigel. Just us boys. He comes up to the loft, but he’s not eager to stay. He likes to roam. Gertie would lie down on her bed, from time to time gaze up at me, and leave with reluctance.

    Tom, Durango, Co.

    Today is body-mind-spirit day. Breakfast with Tom. Therapy with David Sanders. Annual physical with Kristine Gonzalez. New workout with personal trainer, Deb Brown.

    Did not finish this yesterday. So, I’ll just go on from here.

    David Sanders called me an exceptionally intelligent person. Nice to hear. In these tough days a few compliments help. He also noted my breadth of knowledge. OK. Enough back patting. He convinced me to send him some of my work. I sent him the first fifty pages of Superior Wolf. And, I admitted that I probably had a book in me about the Great Wheel, tactile spirituality, the ur-religion. Feels like he moved the meter in my head back toward creative work.

    Saw Kristine Gonzalez, my new primary care provider. What a delight! She loves taking care of folks over 65, listened to me, discussed my health with me like an adult. To my Bill Schmidt inspired question about what I needed to do to love (meant live, but this works, too) until I’m 90, she said, “Just do it. Your prostate cancer is under control. You should be able to.” A big sigh of relief to be in a smaller medical practice and with a competent, caring doc. I told her Kate would have liked her a lot.

    Dave and Deb, owners of On the Move Fitness

    Then, over to On the Move Fitness for a kick start to my workout routines which I’d let slide. Deb is the person who lost her husband David to glioblastoma in June of 2020 as the Covid pandemic began to wrap its coils around our lives. Dave and I bonded over cancer recurrences and now Deb and I have over grief. She gently guided me back to a new routine. Slowly, slowly.

    By the time I got home I was exhausted. Called Tom and said so. He graciously agreed to let me rest. He’s coming here for breakfast before his board meeting, then we’ll probably head over to the Happy Camper. Might go to Scooter’s for lunch.

    One of the upsides of all the angst this last year has been an immersion in love. Folks from all parts of my life from high school to college, family to friends, Minnesota to Colorado, Evergreen to Conifer, Judaism to Christianity have reached out, offered or given me support. It’s had the result I’ve needed. I’m not alone. I’m both needed and accepted as I am. Good to know at 75.

     

     


    Anoka County Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Great Wheel Health Judaism Kabbalah Memories Minnesota Mountains Mussar Our Land and Home Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant. Shadow Mountain Weather +Climate

  • This Will Pass

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: That Urbandale rocker. The new coffee table. The new lamp. Here at the Hermitage. Many items put in cabinets, fussing will be required. A plan slowly coming together. Feels wonderful. Rigel did not eat today. Her footpads. The two delivery guys from Modern Bungalow. “Do you have wildlife up here?” Looking at 4 Mule Deer in the front. Kids. Ruth’s first day back after the hospital. Snow coming down gently. Night fell.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Salmon a la Ode

     

    Tired of feeling tired. I get only a few things done. Sit down. Nap. A few more. Not enough. I imagine it’s either the Erleada or the Erleada/Orgovyx combo. So hard to suss out though. Sarcopenia from not working out. Other meds. Getting good sleep so that’s not it.

    Next week, two days after my 75th, David Sanders and the question, what’s this guy gonna do with the rest of his life? 11 am. At 1 pm I have my annual physical with Cynthia Gonzalez. First time I will have met her. Fatigue high on the list. At 3 pm Deb Brown at on the move fitness. Need to get moving, doing resistance work. Balance. Flexibility. I’ve never felt the need more.

    This 74th year, February 14 2021 to February 14 2022, on the planet has had more than its share of challenges. For all of us. Some have added a few more. Like me. Widower. Single guy living alone. Remodeling, refurnishing. Rigel’s health. Jon’s. Ruth’s. Life. As it flows on in endless song.

    Feeling it all today. Ruth’s struggles. Jon’s. Rigel’s. They could add to the fatigue, too, of course. My response to them, that is.

    The two young guys who delivered the Modern Bungalow order. A handsome 20 something Black man and a handsome 20 something Latino. Felt like they’d been cast in a movie, the new diversity sensitive films. Just guys. Friendly and helpful. Awed, as we all are, by wild Life. This delivery will remain in their minds, perhaps later draw them to the mountains.

    With weariness comes a touch of melancholy. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t erase.

    Snow means low Fire danger. Yeah. Also, beauty. 6-9 inches. Means Vince will be here. He might try the Snow raking.

    Lots of moving parts in caring for a house, dogs, a life. Called the home call vets. Will get word tomorrow am about a visit. Rigel’s lethargic. I bought stick on pads for her paws which should help improve her mobility, but she’s hardly moved since I put them on. I got XL, but they’re not big enough. If they seem to help, I’ll go XXL.

    At this moment life feels a little hard, a little too much. Ruth. Jon. Rigel. The fatigue, the lack of stamina. This will pass.


    Cooking Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mountains Mussar Shadow Mountain Weather +Climate

  • I love these people

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Yule and the Moon of the New Year

    Where’s the Webb?  98% of the way to L2. 16000 miles to go. 465 mph. Cold side: -344. Hot side: 128. Mission day: 29. The last day of the trip. Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow!

    Sunday gratefuls: Susan and her organizing. Jamie, Rich, Irv, Marilyn, Ron, Tara. Judy. Jewish caroling. The Tree of Life. Jon. In need. Ruth, in crisis. Gabe. Being Gabe. Rigel’s meds. Not helping so much. Kep’s either so far. Abraham Lincoln, in the back of Rich’s Volvo. That dying dog look. Tears from me. Safeway pickup. Ali Baba and their gyros. Ruby, chugging along, a petrol burning antique.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Abraham Lincoln. His journey ending.

    Tarot: later

     

    Went Jewish caroling in Golden. Up on Meadow Run Drive where Judy lives. I hum. Besides, I didn’t know the words. They were in Hebrew. Judy has ovarian cancer and is in yet another round of chemo. The MVP Mussar group, gathered by Susan Marcus, sang to her and delivered a Tree of Life silver scarf pin. Judy had made cookies and tea, so we went in and sat around her lovely dining room table, teak, I think, and chatted for a half an hour.

    I love these people. That’s what came to mind as I drove back up the hill to Conifer. We’re in this crazy thing called life together.

    most of Gertie

    Ron had Abraham Lincoln in the car with him because Kim had come home via DIA and he had to pick her up. Abraham Lincoln accepted the attention as we leaned in the  back to pet him. His face alone would have told me he’s in serious trouble. Seeing him took me to tears with no stopping go. Dogs are so stoic. They do, I realized, live until they die. That could easily be a quote from Abraham Lincoln, or Gertie, or Vega.

    Before Judy’s I had lunch with Jon at Ali Baba’s, not too far from Judy’s house. Ruth had a mental health crisis yesterday in school. Not sure exactly what happened but she got very anxious and lashed out at an administrator. She went home to Jen’s house to cool down. They’re with her this week.

    ballgame with Jon

    Jon’s still running short of money. I helped him a bit this month. He’s in a better mental place. Sarah may come out in the Spring and help him clean up his house. “If I get a bed, things will be closer to normal.” He’s lived in his house for five years with no bed. He sleeps on an old couch.

    On the way back from Golden I stopped at Safeway and picked up my grocery order. A full day for me. Driving. Human interaction. Dog interaction. Wu wei-ing my way along. Feeling it all. Glad to be where I was. At Ali Baba’s with Jon. At Judy’s with the mussar group. At Safeway picking up groceries. Here at home with Kep and Rigel.

    alchemical marriage

    I can feel the Hooded Man and the Queen of Vessels leaning in to each other. Listening. Applauding each other for the actions and feeling they bring to interactions. Soon we may have a hand-fast marriage. A trial for a year and a day. Often entered into on Beltane in auld Ireland.

    Here’s an old Christian hymn  lyric: I’ve got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, down in my heart to stay. I would say that’s where I am now. And grief. And love. And patience. All down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

     


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Judaism Mountains Mussar Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Some days…

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     

     


    Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mussar Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • 8 months

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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  • Energy

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    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.

     


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