Category Archives: Mussar

Gloomy inner weather

Winter and the Wolf Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Safeway pickup. Safeway pharmacy. Urology Associates. Prostate cancer. Metastases. Erleada. Orgovyx. The Post Office. Kep, who finds his way. Slowly. Diane. Tom. Interlocutors. Alan. Tomorrow. The Ancient Brothers. Early rising. 5:30 am. Omicron booster. Writing over a thousand words a day. How To Become A Pagan and Ancientrails. Snow on its way. Dropping temperatures. My new weather station.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Erleada, keeping the metastases in check.

 

Read the clinical notes of my radiation oncologist, Dr. Simpson. Starts out: patient with metastatic prostate cancer. Not sure why but it nicked me this time. That phrase. Especially metastatic. That’s me. I have a cancer that has metastasized. A bit later I got the bill for the P.E.T. scan. $1,000 bucks. Then, tried to roll up the rug in my new home office. Too much. I’d waited too late in the day. Result: gloomy mental weather.

After that I went to Safeway. Pushed outside my comfort zone ( my mussar practice this month) and went inside to get an omicron booster and pick up a prescription for a drug that had run out early. You have to make an appointment for a booster. I didn’t have to the last time. We’ve always done it this way. I’m here; can’t you just go ahead? No. Sigh. Got in line, 8 people. When I got there. Can’t fill it. Your insurance company says not till January 2nd. Well, fuck it.

So much for pushing past the comfort zone. By the time I got home with my groceries. Which I was able to accomplish. In a funk. Box breathing. Unclench jaw. Damn it. None of this is a big deal. Well, the cancer. Yeah. But that’s not new.

Made myself some eggs, sopped them up with French bread. Righted the ship after a no good, but not really very bad day.

I write this to illustrate how easy it is to get off course with a nick here, a nick there. Good to have some tools. Forgot the How do I feel exercise. But. I did do notice five things. A traffic sign. The Grass. Conifer High School. The pavement. Lovely clouds. And my version of box breathing. Breathe in four counts. Hold for seven. Blow out for eight. Repeat. Activates the vagus nerve. And, take some action. Made myself dinner. Calmed down.

Chesed. Loving kindness. Not just for the other. For yourself as well. Equanimity is a middah, too. Bringing oneself back into balance. I try to remember to show compassion for myself when I get in these spots. Don’t always remember because the feelings, the downer ones, can dominate. For a while. I also try to bring myself back into balance, realize the context, get a perspective on my mood. Can take as long as a day. Sometimes only a few minutes. Yesterday was in between.

This drag happens much less these days. Hardly at all. Yet. When the blues strike ya, you gotta do somethin’.

 

Which reminds me. If you haven’t seen the Muscle Shoals documentary on Netflix, I recommend it. Highly. A small town in Alabama with a big influence on popular music. Who recorded there? Percy Sledge. Wilson Pickett. Aretha Franklin. The Rolling Stones. Duane Allman. Lynyrd Skynyryd. Bob Dylan. Bono. Etta James. Clarence Carter. Bobby Gentry. Kris Kristofferson. Steve Winwood and Traffic. Alabama. Paul Anka. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Bob Seger. Leon Russel. Otis Redding. Rod Stewart. And a whole lot of others.

Worth it for the inspiration.

So much to see. To learn.

Winter and the Wolf Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: 8 years in Colorado. On the Solstice. The long dog ride with Tom. Memories. Challenges. Family. Death. Divorce. Mental and physical illnesses. Beauty. The Rocky Mountains. The Wild Neighbors. Mountain hiking. Deep snow. Sudden. Then, suddenly gone. Living at altitude. Becoming a member of CBE. Elk and Mule Deer visiting our back. Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Vega. Gertie. Rigel. Kep. Kate, always Kate. Who loved the Mountains.

Sparks of joy and awe: That dog ride 8 years ago. Talking story.

 

Back of the car anthropology. Two vanity plates. YAHWEHS. ODACIOUS. The first on a jet black fancy Audi. The other on a Lexus sedan. Also. Stickers. I heart Aging and Dying. No baby on board. Feel free to ram me. Toyoda. With yoda ears on the T and the a. I love the way we express ourselves on the back of our vehicles. So revealing. Full disclosure. I have a large decal of Lake Superior on the back window of Ruby. And, an ADL Dissent is Patriotic on a side window. There are too the cars seemingly held together by stickers like the occupants got started on the project and just. couldn’t. stop.

 

On December 20th, 2014 Tom Crane and I loaded Rigel, Vega, and Kep in Ivory. All three trazodoned. Tom drove straight through. We talked the whole way. Talking story. The conversation continues now, eight years later. Gertie rode with Kate in the rental van filled with stuff we didn’t want the movers to take. I remember Kate telling me she bought Gertie a hamburger at one of their stops. A satisfied dog.

These have not been easy years. No. They have been fulfilling, satisfying years though. Deep intimacy between Kate and me, especially as she began her long decline. Putting cancer in the chronic illness box. Being here for the kids and Jon after the divorce. Now for Ruth and Gabe after Jon’s death. Becoming part of the CBE community. Making friends. Learning from the ancient civilization of the Jews. Kabbalah. The Torah. Mussar. Talmud. Mitzvahs.

The Wild Neighbors. The Mountains. The Streams. The hiking. Mountain adjustments. Four Seasons. Eight Seasons. The Mountain Fall. Golden Aspens. Against green Lodgepoles. Black Mountain punctuated with gold, then green. Snow flocked in Winter. Wildflowers in the Mountain Spring. Fawns. Kits. Cubs. Elk and Moose Calves. The long Summers. Beautiful in their own right, yet also angsty with the ever present threat of Wildfire.

Living here has been, is an adventure. In relationships. In deep learning. An immersion in the world of Mountains. After the world of Lakes and Rivers and rich Soil.

So much more to see. To learn.

 

Visited Carmax yesterday. The Jeep. Prepared to sell it, then Uber home. A first for me. But. Can’t take a North Carolina power of attorney. Colorado makes it difficult. Do you want me to get you the necessary papers? Yes. Talked to Sarah while the nice lady in the blue Carmax smock did that. Took fifteen minutes. Many pieces of paper. Post it notes. Sign here stickers. OK. Thanks. Back up the hill.

 

Got two calendars as presents.  Aimed at different parts of me. A Zen Calendar from Tom. A New Yorker Cartoons calendar from Sarah and Jerry. Yep. I recognize both of those guys as resident within me. Wonderful to be seen.

 

 

Moving

Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Friday gratefuls: Gabe, coming up today through Sunday. Cold outside, 7 degrees. Kep. MVP. Alan. Sold his house. Evergreen. The Elk of Evergreen. The Bread Lounge. That dulce de leche croissant. Vince and his laborer. Moving my home office into the house. Today. Ruth. Hanukah. Advent. Christmas. The Winter Solstice. Yule. Putin. Ukraine. The Moon, the Sun, and the Stars.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Getting things done.

 

Breakfast with Alan yesterday at the Bread Lounge. They sold their house. But. The one they want to buy continues to slide back and forth between offers, apparently a couple who are in conflict. He wants to stay; she wants a garden. To make it more fun the sellers agent is on her honeymoon in Southeast Asia.

Alan adapts quickly. If there’s a couple of months between the sale of their house and being able to move in somewhere new, he and Cheri will either go to Hawai’i or rent a penthouse in the same building.  Or move into a furnished Air BnB type place. Penthouse now means, I learned, any unit above the 38th floor.

He’s excited about a new adventure. Living downtown after over 20 years overlooking the Continental Divide in Genessee. He’s a happy guy, making the changes positive. Sorta like my buddy, Mark.

Had the Chinook Salmon toast again. Alan had corned beef hash and eggs. Afterward I bought a ridiculously expensive croissant filled with dulce de leche. Had it later in the day. OMG. Totally worth the price.

 

Back home. Mussar online. Discussing a page in Jewish Values called Untamed Anger and the Death of Love. Focused on the story of King David and Michal, his wife, the daughter of King Saul. About modulating our voice, our words, even our intentions in situations of anger. Avoiding sarcasm. Staying present. Being aware that words can kill love in a marriage. A good discussion.

 

After I had to go unplug and otherwise disconnect my loft computer and its peripherals, move all the items I’d collected near and on it. Clear off the Levenger laptop desk. Move chairs off the Oriental rug. Also clean off the side table I bought for my birthday several years ago. Boxed up computer wires, speakers, microphone.

Yet this morning I’ll box up teaware. The Zojirushi.

All of that will move into the home office here in the Hermitage. Plus my computer chair and a rolling file, the Oriental rug and one of the Ikea reading chairs.

Why you might ask? Kep. He can no longer go up and down the loft stairs. I’ve begun to write my new book and I need to be on the desktop. To do that I would have to leave him alone in the house while I was up there. When he was younger, that would have been fine, but now he wants to be near me most of the time. He’ll get a bit more exercise going up and down the stairs to the third level. Which have grippy treads on them.

The loft will continue to be a library, art studio, gym, and reading spot.

Oh. The Stickley bookcase is also going upstairs into Kate’s old sewing room to complete the conversion of it into a dining room. Still pruning work to do in it, but it’s switchover in purpose has already happened.

Courage of the Heart

Samain and the Holimonth Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Alan. Has an offer on his house. Lunch today. MVP tonight. No Judy. May her memory be for a blessing. Kate, always Kate. Jon, a memory. Ruth in Colorado Springs. Gabe coming up for the weekend and the new Avatar movie. Fitbit 5. Kep waking me up at 5:20. Back to sleep after. Winter sleeping, window open. The last moonwalk, 50 years ago. Artemis I. James Webb. Hubble. Spacetime. Quantum mechanics.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Galaxies

 

Strong workout yesterday. 74 minutes. Cardio and resistance. Getting the results. Feel better. Lowered resting heart rate. Good cardiovascular conditioning. Could do more with the resistance work, but I’m satisfied with my current routine. Might change it at some point. Not right now.

 

MVP tonight. Judy has died so our little group has become one person smaller. Marilyn will lead us on the middah Ometz Lev, or courage of the heart. Here are a few items from her handout.*

This group is one of the night time drives I count as necessary. Marilyn and I carpool. At 6 pm I drive down to the parking lot for Flying J Ranch (a Denver City Park) and one of us drives to Evergreen. It’s a nice habit because we get to talk once a month there and back. Keep up.

Judy always brought interesting food. One of the things she did before she took her own life on November 8th (death with dignity, not suicide) was make a cookbook so we could continue her cooking if we wanted. I haven’t gotten mine yet. Making deviled eggs.

The closest analogy in my life for this group is the Woolly Mammoths. We all care about each other in and out of the group. Our sessions go deep into our lives, vulnerability seen as an asset. Rich Levine, my lawyer. Jamie, the rabbi. Marilyn, a retired reporter and public relations person for the Jeffco school system, Susan Marcus, another lawyer ( retired), Ron Solomon, actor/singer/writer/entrepreneur, Tara Saltzman, educator, and me. At least 5 years together now.

Each month we create a practice that gives us a chance to practice the middah we’ve discussed that night. We skipped last month because our meeting came at the time of three significant deaths in the congregation, one of them Judy. The last time together was my session on anavah, or humility. I took as my practice the mantra, down to earth. That meant that each time I felt I was about to take up too much space I’d recall my mantra. Or, when I experienced a moment  when I chose to hide myself. Down to earth. Be all of who you can be. But not more.

We discuss the result of these practices at the beginning of each session. We also hold vaad. Which is a time for any of us to speak what’s on our hearts and the others listen. Unless we ask for feedback that’s all the others do, listen. The concept is that we each know best how to solve or resolve our own issues, but speaking them aloud helps us in that process.

 

*                                       Cultivating Ometz Lev

“The Hebrew term for courage, ometz or ometz lev, literally means “strength” or “heart-strength.” Ometz is a core Jewish middah, a spiritual and ethical trait with which each of us is innately endowed as human beings formed in the divine image. Even those who consider themselves fearful or anxious can access the quality of ometz lev in any given moment.

“Jewish tradition teaches us to connect ometz lev with the quality of  chesed  or lovingkindness, concern for others. According to a Midrash, there is no real courage in using one’s strength to push someone into a pit or off a roof. True courage consists of seizing the hand of one about to fall or lifting someone who has already fallen.

“Cultivating ometz lev means applying our energy to protect and stand up for those who are at risk, including ourselves. We practice ometz lev whenever we leave our comfort zone, take an unpopular stand, expose our vulnerabilities, speak the truth, confront others, risk embarrassment or personal loss, or intervene on behalf of those unable to do so for themselves.”

Excerpted from: https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/cultivating-jewish-courage-ometz-
lev/ by Rabbi Marc Margolius senior program director of the Institute for Jewish Spirituality.

What is courage?
What does it mean to be strong?
What does it mean to be brave?

It is not the same as being fearless. There are plenty of things in life of which to be afraid. Plenty of things in our world that are scary. Someone fearless may be someone foolish.

The ancient rabbis ask the question: Who is mighty? And they answer: One who can conquer his or her own impulses.

In other words, a person who is able to do what they ought to do. To do what she decides is most right.

To do what he determines to be best course of action. Not obeying the fearful voice, but rather the voice of love, the voice of care, the voice of duty.

Source: https://jewishhome.org/meaningful-life-messages/what-is-courage/

Questions for Reflection
1. What makes you afraid? How do you overcome that fear?
2. How does obeying the voice of love, care and duty impact your actions?

“Maggid” from The Art of Blessing the Day
by Marge Piercy

The courage to let go of the door, the handle.
The courage to leave the place whose language you learned as early as your own.
The courage to walk out of the pain that is known
into the pain that cannot be imagined, mapless, walking
into the wilderness, going barefoot with a canteen into the desert.

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” —E.E. Cummings

A good influence

Fall and the Sukkot Moon (the Jewish Harvest Moon)

Thursday gratefuls: Diane. Cleaning out the truly hard part. Her doggedness. She says OCD, I say perseverance. The Yahrzeit plaques, Kate in the middle and reserved ones for myself and Jon above and below her. Hugs at CBE. Bread Lounge breakfast with the cuz. Sourdough bread. Marilyn. The discussion on humility last night. Jackie. Luke. Ellen. Jamie Bernstein. Leslie.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Having Diane here

 

Over to Evergreen early, but not before Diane had taken a 45 minute jog around the neighborhood. She came upon a Mule Deer Buck standing so still and so close to her at one point that she asked, “Are you alive?” His ears twitched, his head moved, then he went on about his day. Mountain spirits. Ready to welcome us or turn us away.

The Evergreen Medical Center had closed for the day so we went on over to the Bread Lounge. We both had Chinook Toast. The servers and the cashier are so friendly. A lot fewer people than on the weekend or Friday when Alan and I usually go.

Tried to go to the Evergreen Market for easy meals, but it didn’t open until 11. Back home I looked at my calendar and, Oh, $%#&! I had a hair appointment at 11:15. Had to reschedule for 12:15. Always good to see Jackie and her colleague.

When I got back Diane was hands deep in mouse turds, had all the items from under the sink and on the lazy susan neatly organized on paper towel sections along the wall. It was after one and I needed my nap.

When I got up, she was still at it! She’d had lunch she said. A nut bar and an apple. Diane has a minimalist approach to eating that I admire. She’s taken most of the choice points out of daily meals by having regular breakfasts and lunches, veggies of some kind, like a salad or something else, plus some protein for supper. She’s a good influence on me.

I had blueberries and raspberries and yogurt for lunch. Tasted good. By then, however, I had to go to Safeway to pick up some food for the MVP mussar group.

In the end I’d had breakfast, had my haircut, napped, and gone to Safeway, only to leave a bit later for MVP. Diane did all the work.

Today we work in the loft.

 

The power of the lit up Aspens captured Diane. As they do me. And, probably everybody that’s up here during our monochrome Fall. If you’ve watched the Lord of the  Rings movies or the Rings of Power, they look like the trees around the Elven castles. Magical and amazing. Flaming Trees that do not burn. Moses and that bush have nothing on a golden Aspen Grove with the sun behind it.

 

The MVP mussar group discussed humility. We didn’t get to Jacob and the Angel, but we hit all the other passages on the reading list. The conversation was strong, thoughtful, heart felt, honest.

We affirmed an understanding of humility that challenges the meek and mild posture often associated with it. No. Humility is knowing who you are and bringing that person, with all his/her/them talents and gifts to every encounter. Not hiding your light under a bushel, neither letting it blaze out like a movie premier spotlight. Authenticity, each and every encounter, including those with your inner self.

My practice this month will be elemental again. I did water as my practice for the middot of cleanliness last month. This month being down to earth is my practice. This practice honors the link among the words humus, humility, and humanity. It also honors the metaphor of each us created from the same elements, from the dust of the soil, with the breath of life breathed into us through the wonder of birth and evolution. I will remember from whence I came and to which I return. In each encounter.

 

Where am I going?

Fall and the Sukkot Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Diane. Coming to help me prune. Jogging. Sleep. Acting. Chekhov. The Seagulls. Cool. Shirley Septic and Waste. Kep. Poor guy. Bumping into stuff. Ukraine. Putin. Missiles. Will. Minnesota. Hawai’i. ? Lab draws this morning. Flu shot.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hawai’i

 

Picked Diane up at the Federal Center Station of the RTD yesterday afternoon. Drove back to the Natural Grocers where we picked up supplies. Apples. Aloe Vera juice. Organic fish sticks. Mixed vegetables. Raspberries. Blueberries. Bananas. Tomatoes. Lettuce. Headed back home.

At the Natural Grocers we got into a conversation with the cashier. Where’re you from? San Francisco. Here. Oh, I’m from Hawai’i. Oh, I’m moving to Hawai’i. What Island? Oahu. Oh, I’m from Oahu. The North Shore, where all the surfing is. Yes, I’m going to that side, too. Oh, Kailua, Kane’ Ohe’? Yes.

Diane picked up on my answer and asked about it, given my recent blogs. Oh, just trying to bond with the cashier, I said.

More I thought about it though I realized Hawai’i is still top of mind when I think about moving. And, I’ve been telling people I’m moving to Hawai’i for quite awhile now. An interesting, unbidden piece of information about the move.

Not sure what it means. If anything. But there you are.

 

Mussar tonight. My turn to lead. Anavah. Humility. A key idea in mussar is taking up the right amount of space. That’s the idea of humility. Neither self-deprecating nor self-aggrandizing, being who you are.

Here’s a Rabbi’s take on anavah.*

 

How do you experience anavah in your own life? Do you ever take up too much space? Too little? If so, why? How can you create a you that takes up the space you deserve?

One of my favorite stories from the Torah. Jacob and the Angel at the Jabbok Ford.** I see it as an example of anavah. Jacob wrestled with God/the Angel/a man to determine the right amount of space between him and the sacred.

One interpretation is this. Jacob was on a journey, fleeing his brother Esau. He had divided his livestock and servants in two, reasoning that he might escape with half his wealth if his servants encountered Esau. God had come to him in a dream and told him to go to the land of his fathers and God would be with him.

As they crossed the ford of the Jabbok River, Jacob stayed behind. While he was alone, a man came and wrestled with him. Jacob was alone as a result of his struggles with his father-in-law Laban and his brother, Esau.

Jacob had experienced rejection by his father-in-law and his own brother. He had fled them. Who was he now? Was he a man who fought with his closest relatives, made them angry, divided his family? Or, was he a man of the sacred, following a path that was his pilgrimage?

That night beside the river at a ford, places known for their magical qualities, Jacob had to decide who he was. He struggled within himself, trying to decide whether he was a bad brother and a bad son-in-law or was he a good man who had done what was necessary?

In that struggle he learned that he was neither. Or both. When the inner jihad was over, he had a new self-awareness. he was now Israel, for he had experienced the sacred within himself and survived to gain a clear identity, an authentic Self.

 

*Just as the Torah begins with Parashat B’reishit, Mussar practice begins with the middah of anavah. All other middot are accessed through this core character trait. The middah of anavah is essential for living with integrity. When we think of humility, we may imagine someone who is the picture of modesty and meekness. However, in Mussar, humility is not defined as being so humble that you disappear; rather, it is about having all of your character traits in balance so that the inner light of the soul shines pure and clear as originally intended. As Mussar teacher Alan Morinis puts it, “Being humble doesn’t mean being nobody: it just means being no more of a somebody than you ought to be.”
…In our own lives, we hide our authentic selves from the truth of our lives. When we live out of balance, despite the fact that we may be falling apart on the inside or on the outside, we betray our lives. We take up either too much or too little space; either we take away space from others, or we abandon them when they need us. Our sacred connection to anything important—our families, our communities, our work—all suffer when we neglect to live life with anavah in balance. Celebrated with intention, Shabbat provides the time, space, and opportunity to reconnect to our core essence, reacquire a sense of proportion, and connect anew with the people and projects in our lives with both humility and presence. Anavah, approaching our lives with humility, means not taking up too much space in the Garden, not trying to fool others with some disguise of our true selves; but to honestly offer our truest selves to the people and work we encounter in our lives. Humility: Shabbat as a Return to Our Authentic Selves” by Rabbi Michelle Pearlman and Rabbi Sharon Mars in Mussar Torah Commentary, p.3, 6

 

**22 The same night he arose and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had.24 And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day.25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob’s thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”27 And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.”28 Then he said, “Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.”29 Then Jacob asked him, “Tell me, I pray, your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him.30 So Jacob called the name of the place Peni’el, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.”31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penu’el, limping because of his thigh.32 Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the sinew of the hip which is upon the hollow of the thigh, because he touched the hollow of Jacob’s thigh on the sinew of the hip.

 

What is control

Summer and the Aloha Moon

art@willworthington

Thursday gratefuls: Simcha. Joy! Ichi-go, ichi-e. Marilyn. MVP. Judy and her journey. Rich. Jamie. Susan. Alan. Susan. Ken and Sarah, his daughter. A new Water heater! Expensive! Learnings from Burning Bear Creek Trail. Evergreen. Shadow Mountain. Shadow Mountain-Black Mountain-Brook Forest Drive. The Holy Valley. See what you’re looking at.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A trip

Tarot: Seven of Stones, Healing

“Give our minds a break. Calmness. Meditation. Stillness. Healing. Reevaluation. Patience. Perseverance. State of stability. Attentive care. Take time to relax and unwind. ” tarotx.net

 

Been thinking about control. That is, our control over our own suffering, our own joy. What does that mean? Control? Is it equivalent to will? That is, if I can will myself to do something, does that mean I have exerted control? And, if so, to what end?

The question came up in the Mussar practice group last night. A quote from the Dali Lama said if we create our own suffering isn’t it logical that we can create our own joy.

Rich Levine questioned whether we create our own suffering. He used the example of slaves. Isn’t their suffering brought on by external circumstances? He then later offered that the enslaved also created an alternate culture of songs, music, religion, dance as a way of combating the external oppression of their masters. I thought about Viktor Frankl and Man’s Search for Meaning, written while Frankl was in a concentration camp.

Here’s the way I think about cancer. I do what I can (exert my will. Control.) through diet and exercise. I follow the plan my doctors lay out. After those things, the result is out of my control. I can’t will the cancer away. In this instance I find the notion of not having control liberating. I do what I can and the rest will happen as it does. What I’ve done is come to peace with the process.

So there is a moment when having control matters, when exerting my will is possible, and a moment when I cannot. My suspicion is that most things in life, including joy, contain such a mixture, a more nuanced approach to the matter of will, control.

Take death as an example. I have a little plaque that reads exercise, eat right, die anyway. A good reminder of the ultimate futility of a sense of control over our life.

I’m suspicious of the idea of control. The ego muscling the psyche through brute force. I believe it’s more subtle than that. More like finding an alignment between desire and intention. How can I line up what I desire with what I need.

Controlling either our suffering or our joy exercises the same modality, the ego wrestling one mood out of the way for another, presumably better one.

Hamlet had the same dilemma:

“To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?”

I’m answering Hamlet today with, neither one. Neither passive acceptance of “fate” nor activation of will ensures success when we face the sea of troubles life often presents. What does then? I believe it’s that mix of doing what you can (will) and following the advice of experts that you trust (if any), then leaving the results to come as they will.

It will not be fate because you have actively engaged; but, neither will it be in your hands because the actual results happen as a mix of your engagement and factors external to you. In spite of my diet and exercise, in spite of my taking my meds and following the surveillance recommended, my cancer may still spread. Or, because of those two factors, it may continue in remission. Either way, I’ve acted as I can. Which is enough. And, it’s enough, I believe, because there’s no other way it can be.

This is, I think, wu wei. Yes, act. Just don’t expect the results you think you need. That’s where acceptance comes in. Accept the results, then recalibrate if necessary.

Natural Healing

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Friday gratefuls: My journey over a lifetime. Kate. Always. That trail. With the Creek, the Mountain Stream. The fallen Trees. The tall Pines. The Wild Strawberries. The Rocks. The steep valley walls. Wild Rose. Primrose. Those yellow Flowers I can’t identify. A place of great sanctity. A holy place. A sanctuary. Friends. Near and far.

Saturday gratefuls: Stephanie. That trail again. Happy Camper. Aspen Perks breakfast. Salad. Apples. Peanut Butter. The Continental Divide. Mt. Rosalie. Mt. Evans. Black Mountain. Staunton State Park. Richard Power’s Orfeo. Learning lines. Mini-splits. Jon. Money.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That trail.

Tarot: Seven of Stones, Healing. And, Again.

Key words: “Give our minds a break, Calmness, Meditation, Stillness, Healing, Reevaluation, Patience, Perseverance, State of stability, Attentive care, Take time to relax and unwind, Connection to the source energy.”  tarotx.net

 

Forgot to finish this yesterday. A busy day. Over to Aspen Perks for breakfast: Salmon Eggs benedict. Reading Orfeo. After a morning with what people especially beyond Richmond Hill (think Pine, Bailey) call the camper and RV races. Or, the RV assholes. Or, those bastards. Folks from down the hill invading, driving too fast. Often with trailers in tow. Passing on curves. Generally being jerks. After Richmond Hill 285 goes from a four lane divided highway to a two lane, no dividers. That’s when things get clogged.

At 9 am I was still a bit ahead of the bulk of it. But I had a guy towing a trailer behind me, a BIG RV ahead of me for much of the way. Irritated locals often try to pass early. Not waiting for the passing lanes that come after the road to Staunton State Park. It’s a recipe for accidents. And, they happen. And, they kill people.

 

I was on my way to the Happy Camper for my every two months or so cannabis run. 25% off! for the whole month. Still digesting a Stanford study that says thc can increase inflammation in the veins and arteries around the heart. Gonna consider genistein to counteract this effect. Sleep is critical and my thc use has made 8 hours every night possible. Gonna contact my docs to see about safety and dosing.

 

As my avanah (humility) practice for the month, I’m using a focus phrase: ichi-go, ichi-e. Every moment is once in a lifetime, unique, precious. Trying to use it every time I encounter a living entity: Kep, Myself, Rocks, Lodgepoles, Elk, Friends, Waitress, other Diners, Birds, the Sun, Black Mountain. All the time. Sort of like the Jesus Prayer. Trying to make it subliminal, yet also present as I move around through my day.

In this way I can learn to take up the right amount of space in my life. Not too much, not too little. Not minimizing my gifts, not over emphasizing them. Making sure I remember to bring my whole self to each precious moment. Since it will not be repeated, it’s the only chance I have.

 

I have now hiked what I’ve begun to think of as my trail, at least when I’m on it, three times since Gabe and I were on it last Saturday. I may go again this morning. Yesterday after my time with Stephanie, Dr. Gonzales’ PA and a sweet lady, I hiked it with the ichi-go, ichi-e focus phrase.

I saw that patch of Wild Strawberry blooms and thought of Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same name. A favorite. The Mountain Rose Bushes are in full Flower, too, five white Petals brightening the trail. They will give way to Rose Hips as the Wild Strawberry Blooms will to Strawberries.

The little Stream, I don’t know its name, flows a bit less vigorously as the Snow melt and Rains subside. Still it sings, dancing over Rocks, falling down the Mountainside, continuing its creation of this holy Valley.

Oddly, as I thought about this trail last night, I realized I’ve done just this, exercised outside in spots that became favorites for a very long time. I used to hike the trail along the Mississippi down by the Ford Avenue Bridge. Then I moved on to the Crosby Nature Farm, also along the Mississippi. When I worked for the Presbytery, I often exercised or walked at the Eloise Butler Garden and Wildlife Sanctuary. 

In Andover I went to the Rum River Regional Park and snowshoed a trail through Woods behind the new library in the Winter, spent other times at Boot Lake SNA. Now I’m on my trail just off Brook Forest Road. Up here though the options are much more abundant. I’ve also been on Upper Maxwell Falls, The Geneva Creek trail outside of Grant, and plan to hit the Mt. Rosalie Trail soon.

My equivalent of the Celtic Christian practice of peregrinatio. The Skunk Cabbages are probably blooming right now at Eloise Butler. I miss seeing them and the bright yellow of the Marsh Marigolds. The power of the mighty Mississippi, too. Though a Mountain Valley is equal to them in its own way. Love the one you’re with. Eh?

They’re Back!

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Thursday gratefuls: MVP. Anavah. Humility. Spanakopita. Cancer. Chemo. Rich. Jamie. Judy. Susan. Heart moments. Acting class. Mussar. Ancient Brothers. Ancientrails. The trail. Walk slow one way. Fast both ways. Slow back. Kate’s memorial garden about to bloom. Orfeo by Richard Powers. Learning lines. Reading.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greening of the Mountains. (can the pollen be far behind?)

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, The Eel

“With purity of intent, your destiny defined, you are able to bring wisdom and maturity to your tasks. Embarking on a quest of personal revelation, your vision leads you forward. Your deep feelings are expressed at every turn.” The Wild Wood Tarot Book, p.113

 

June, 2019

So excited! Been meaning to say here I expect the return of my Elk friends to eat the Dandelions. They first came the the day I started radiation now four years ago. Each year since three have come, one with a single horn. He’s back this morning! And he’s gotten bigger. A lot bigger. The other two aren’t here yet, but I imagine they will be if they’re still alive.

I love the rhythms of the natural world, especially when they happen so close to, or rather, at home. This, too, is Living in the Mountains. If this house were abandoned, these Elk would still come here. Wild. On their own. Living as they have for over 25 million years. About 8 times longer than humans. Maybe they’ve learned something we haven’t?

 

A solid workout yesterday. Cardio and resistance.

Learning lines. Scene from View from a Bridge. Alfieri. I have his lines down now, need to run them with Hamish for cues and rhythm. Odd Couples lines are off-book now, I think. Alan was sick Monday, so we didn’t run through them at class.

Later, MVP at CBE. Anavah. Humility. Taking up the right amount of space. Knowing yourself required. Neither too much of you, nor too little. Neither shrink away from what you can do, nor do more than you should. The practice: a slip of paper in each pocket. The right: “For my sake the world was created.” The left: “I am but dust and ashes.” When you feel a little low, less than, reach in the right pocket and pull out that slip of paper. When you feel over confident, reach into the left.

 

Driving back from Evergreen last night, the greening of the Forest splashed itself across Meadows and up Mountain sides. Beautiful. A sense of abundance.

They will, of course, soon begin to desport themselves in wild pollen orgies. Which will, of course, make me sneeze, gasp, itch. The mini-splits will get a chance to shine as I close the house, insisting on no plant sexual activity inside.

I’m all for it. Just not in my house. Do it out there in the Forest where Mother Nature intended.

Herbivore heaven right now. Succulent Grasses. Flowers. Green Shrubs. Aspen Leaves. Easy to reach.

Gonna go now. Take a few pictures of my one-horned friend. Hope his buddies come, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oooh, a puppy!

Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth. For whom my heart aches. Gabe. For whom my heart sings. Jon. For whom my heart waits. Rebecca. A kindness. Alan. A fullness of friendship. Seeking the whole lev-the heart mind. Wholeness. Kep, my companion. The Denver Mtn. Parks Trail with Gabe. Covid. Grief. Kate, always Kate. Shavout.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth.

Tarot: Queen of Stones, Bear

 

“Grief is a heart-wrenchingly painful problem for the brain to solve… to live in the world with the absence of someone… ingrained in your understanding of the world… For the brain, [they are] simultaneously gone and also everlasting, and you are walking through two worlds at the same time.” from the Grieving Brain by Francis O’Connor. Marginalia 

This quote explained grief to me. In a way nothing else has. Since the experience is still fresh, I thought I’d pass it along. Grief lasts forever, grieving does not, O’Connor says. My experience, too. Grieving is over for me. At least in the main. But grief? No. Still sad and wistful. Still missing Kate. Still walking through two worlds. A beautiful phrase.

 

Had breakfast with Rebecca Martin yesterday at Parkside. Rebecca is a fellow kabbalah and mussar student. She’s 80, but very vital. Each year  she makes a months long journey to a Tibetan Buddhist nunnery near Dharamshala in northern India.

She started out teaching English there but has become a part of the community. Though she still teaches English. She had to take a break during Covid and isn’t sure when she’s going back. Have to admire that chutzpah. The plane ride alone. Yeah?

A good conversation.

While there, I met a Leonberger/Bernese Mountain Dog mix. A really big dog. Odin. Ten months old, still very much the puppy but almost Wolfhound height and weighing in at 140 pounds. Not mature. He was so funny and loving. Wagged his whole body. Made me want one.

 

Realized when Ruth and Jon came up later that my life has shifted again. I’m the Grandpa with a Mountain home and love that needs nothing in return. Which is not to say I don’t appreciate being loved. I do.

But they feel comfortable here because I’m comfortable here and with them. And with their individual dramas. Most of the time. A role shift from Jon’s mom’s husband and sorta grandpa to a key life figure for all three of them. Not really grandpa, not really father, just a guy who loves them and is willing to hang in there with them.

I’ve struggled with this, but have chosen to lean into it, make it what I’m here for until the kids are through high school. Doesn’t mean I can’t travel, be other places, but I’m staying here for now. Probably as long as I’m able.

 

Dogs have closed minds. As do other humans. We can’t see inside and know what’s going on. It occurred to me a week or so ago that Kep may not have gotten up on the bed with me because it reminded him of Rigel. May have smelled like her, too. The last few nights he’s gotten up on the bed and stayed through morning. I’ve asked him to, and, yes, I believe he understands. It feels like he’s decided to push past his grieving to comfort me. Feels like a treasure.

I’ve also decided to get a puppy. Gonna do it. Kep will bond with the puppy over time, not be mean to it. A female. And, I don’t care what the breed is. Just filled out an application for Kahlua, a German Shepherd mix. We’ll see out what happens. Oooh, a puppy!