Category Archives: Kabbalah

The Fire This Time

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.

I am

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Monday gratefuls: Helen Reddy. I am Woman. The Women’s movement. Cancer. Its sequelae: pet scans, orgovyx, friends reaching out, fatigue, persistence. Shortness of breath. Family. T-shirts. Living in the moment. The Day. A Day. This Day.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The voice of the 1960’s

Tarot:  Prince of Pentacles

 

Watched I am Woman. A biopic about Helen Reddy. Got drawn in by a snippet of the movie in which Tilda Cobham-Hervey sings Delta Dawn. Didn’t know that was Helen Reddy. I’ve been listening to it in my head for weeks now, since I thought about a parody featuring the Delta variant.

Not a great movie, but a good one. My anima is strong, perhaps even dominant. Movies which feature women overcoming obstacles and flourishing speak directly to me.

Many tears. Why? Well, sixties music almost always moves me, reminds me of the passion, the wonder, the promise of those magical years. Speaking truth to power. Yes. Especially when the vulnerable do the speaking.

Remembering Kate. Her determination to go to med school. The Dean who tried to turn her away because “You’re already married to a doctor.” Her determination to conquer the obstacles in her life: back pain, sexist managers, a lost voice, her final illness. A strong, smart woman. Ill-used by many of the men in her life. But always, always getting back up and going on.

Cleansing, the lacrimae. Sacred waters. Draining pain and sadness and nostalgia. Bringing me into the present after a trip through the past.

Got a lot done over the weekend. Money stuff. Pruning. Cleaning. Writing.

What is a good use of time? A key question for those raised in the success obsessed American culture. I still clip articles about improving my productivity. Why? That ancientrail, my highest potential, trapped me in a long and narrow tunnel, one I’ve struggled against, embraced, knelt down and crawled through on my hands and knees.

All those novels. Unpublished. Kate wanted me to publish before she died. All that injustice. Still there, seeming deeper and more entrenched now, after all the work. That damning number, carbon in the atmosphere. Still rising.

And then we die. Leaving behind an unjust world, a world heating up behind human endurance, creative works birthed but never raised into adulthood.

Tarot cards speaking to my anima, encouraging her, telling her to dive in, create, dance, sing-the High Priestess, the Lady, even the eight of Pentacles. Today, again, the Prince of Pentacles. That’s the patient, methodical, practical approach guy. Speaking to my animus.

Animus and anima working together, literally yin and yang, vibrating, humming, feeding each other, feeding off of each other. My neshama emerging, cheering them both.

I am Woman. I am Man. I am. Both.

Low Anxiety

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Eye moistener. Cool nights. Anxiety. Kep, a sometimes loft dog. Right now, for example. Rigel. Marshdale Burger Company. Fried cheese curds. (a Wisconsin health food) My chair. Friends like the Saltzmans and Tom. The Ancient Ones today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Lady

Tarot: The Lady, #3 of the Major Arcana Druid Deck

 

Trying to remain present and/or distracted. Woke up though wondering whether my usual morning aches were, really, BONE PAIN. Don’t think so, but that idea, once planted, seems determined to hang around. Reached over to pet Kep and I was right back in the day. Another good thing about Dogs. They’re in the present, all the time. And, have the capacity to take me there, too.

That PET scan is on my mind. What will it show? Am I riddled with cancer? Probably not. But that thought wanders through. Not helpful. Are there metastases in parts of my body far from the prostate? Again, I don’t think so, but I have no evidence either way. Knowing with greater precision where the cancer likely is, the PET scan’s benefit, also means knowing I have cancer. With images. How much will they show? What will they mean?

The Orgovyx which shows up on Wednesday means hot flashes, sarcopenia, fatigue. Big fun likely to last the remainder of my life. Oh, boy.

OK. Yes. A bit over focused on these things right now. Hard to be casual about them. I know wondering, worrying will neither change the results nor help me now. I KNOW that. Have to figure out how to live it.

No more Kate focused events until April 12, 2022. Her yahrzeit. Between today and then the off and on grief, integration of her presence, rehoming the remaining items of her personal life. Living with the fact of her absence, her death.

This month through the end of September sees a lot of particular expenses: long term care insurance, 3rd quarter taxes, house staining, new hearing aid and microphone. Big ones for me. I’ve planned for them. And, the new Social Security payment should begin the third week of September.

Cooking for one remains a challenge. It’s not that I don’t know how to cook, I do. But will I spend the time in a day to do it? It’s easy to fall into the easy, the big easy. Not make a salad, follow a recipe, make sure there are fruits and vegetables. Last night I went to Marshdale Burger Company, for example. Easy.

I’ve gotten back into mussar, into MVP, taking my class on Tarot and Kabbalah. I find myself less willing to go to services and other events due to Delta. The risks still seem too high to me. Might be inertia. Can’t tell yet.

A most unsettling fact about death is the ongoingness of life. How cars still whoosh past on Black Mountain Drive. How Centurylink and IREA still send their bills. How the people I know still look the same. How the days on the calendar keep coming and going. Death is so big it seems like it should blow up reality. Instead it rearranges bits.

Later, all. If this sounds gloomy or unsettled, I do have those feelings. But I also have the Lady.

 

The Lady: The Lord and the Lady are the lovers of Major Arcana 5 in the Druid deck. This card is the Lady alone. The God (Cernunnos) and the Goddess make love in the Spring. Fertility. The Lady oversees the time from Beltane to Samain in my thinking. The Maiden shows up at Imbolc, replacing the Crone, who appears at Samain. These are the three stages of womanhood, the full seasons of the year, the psychology wheel which turns in all of our psyches.

This card, and the one from yesterday, the 8 of pentacles, make creativity, abundance, vitality a center piece. Suggesting the same for me. A suggestion I need. I’ve let that slide.

 

 

Blindfolded and Bound

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Irises in Andover, 2014

Friday gratefuls: Kate, sinking into the top Soil, nourishing the Irises. Her birthday. Now over. Seeing Mary. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Yesterday. Mussar. Being seen and heard.  Living with cancer. Advanced. PET scan on Tuesday. Allergies waned. 45 degrees this morning.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: PET scans

Tarot:  8 of Swords, Druid

 

August, 2010, honey extraction

I needed everyone gathered on Wednesday. Kate’s birthday. The first since her death. Their presence honoring her also buoyed me up, made the day rich, meaningful, even though painful and sad. I especially appreciated the sense of joy added with the balloons and the yellow Roses. Kate’s work with simcha, joy in Hebrew, included giving yellow Roses to each participant in our mussar class.

Yesterday was a quieter day. I worked out in the a.m., took a nap, then went to mussar at CBE. Took the opportunity to tell folks about my PSA and Kate’s birthday. Being heard and seen. By folks who care. I said yes, I’m alone, but, not lonely. Living alone suits me, two thumbs up. Of course, I’d prefer if Kate were here, but, she’s not.

On the way home I stopped again at the Chicago beef food truck; it’s parked on my way home. Two hot dogs with pickle, mustard, and relish. Two chili cheese dogs. Ruth and Gabe stayed the night on Wednesday. We all love hot dogs.

Mary transferred out of the cabin Sarah rented through Air B’nB. She got a hotel downtown, ready for her first train trip to Chicago and then on to Tomah, Wisconsin to see her friend, Debbie. She’ll be in the continental U.S. for quite some time visiting relatives. BJ left yesterday morning.

Mary, Jon, Ruth, and Gabe attended a Beatle’s cover band concert at Red Rocks last night. A cool, rainy evening. I had a ticket, but chose not to go. The last two days wore me out, down. Feeling a little lost in my inner world, needed time. Not to mention the crowd and the Delta variant.

Eight of Swords: Gonna write about this in the main text. Because I resisted this one. Victimization? Sense of being trapped? No way out? The first card I’ve drawn since the Tarot/Kabbalah class began that didn’t make sense to me. I read a few interpretations, relooked at the card. Nope, not me.

Then, as I wrote. Oh, maybe.

I do not see myself as a victim. However. I do have two unyielding realities dominating my life right now: death and cancer. Both of these restrict me, bind me to themselves. And, I have no choice. Kate is dead. My cancer has returned. Trapped? Not exactly, but constrained, captured, bound? Yes.

Looking at the card, it seems to me that a dawn has begun to emerge through the trees. The woman’s bare foot, her left appears ready to take a step, a step toward the opening in the swords. A way out of the dilemma. If she touches a sword, she’ll realize she can cut her bonds. Then remove the blindfold on her own.

Both grief and serious illness have a way of cloistering us, making us self-involved, self-engaged. And often blind to the needs of others around us. Ourselves, too.

Wednesday it was hard for me to focus on others, see them. Grief clouded my heart. Under the Chesed Moon and in this month of repentance and self-examination, Elul, I’m inclined to understand, forgive myself.

Being unavailable to others is not where I want or intend to live. Yet. Scooping out Kate’s ashes, getting the date for my PET scan put me there on Wednesday and some of yesterday, too. In the late afternoon I felt the blindfold begin to slip, slip far enough that I could put my bare foot out another step, release myself from the binding by cutting them on the sword of reason.

Yes. Cancer and death. This week’s emphasis, no doubt. Yes.

My reaction to both of them is in my control. When I let myself remember that. Today I’m committed to staying conscious, aware, not letting either Kate’s death or this cancer recurrence dominate my inner world.

“A practical, patient, and methodical approach to a project may be needed. These qualities may be needed to improve your health and nutrition.” The Prince of Pentacles from yesterday. These two cards together. I see.

Both cancer and death need a practical, patient, methodical, grounded way. Allow each one the time they need. Follow through. Keep putting one foot out, then another. Cut the ties that bind, slip off the blindfold and see, really see.

The Weight

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Her 77th. Sadness. Grief. Down. Plunging. Rigel, the slow to wake. Rain. Kate’s ashes. Touching them. Canning. Kate in the kitchen. Cancer. Treatment. PSA. 7.4. Life is short; death is sure.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: BJ and Mary here

Tarot: The High Priestess, #2 of the major arcana

 

Feeling the weight. Yesterday. Today. A sinking in, slowly, a light burden tied around my feet. Watching joy and peacefulness go by. The surface getting fainter. Can’t say I’m surprised.

Wish it would have waited a day or two. The folks coming today. Kate’s ashes. Her birthday. Being a host not my thing. At all.

Even my fingers seem slow. Not as nimble on the keys. An opaqueness behind my eyes.

Talked with Diane yesterday. A good talk, mostly about cancer, but still good.

Afterward I loaded almost all the remainder of Kate’s personal belongings in the Rav4, ready to donate to the resale shop in Bailey. Two and a half cases of nutrient liquid and adult diapers for Mt. Evans Hospice. Felt weak. I mean, geez.

Waited on a call from Urology Associates. Got it. Rocky Mountain Cancer Care will do my pet scan. If my health plan approves it. They often drag their feet, the nurse from Urology Associates said of my insurance carrier. This may have been the stimulus for feeling the burden.

It took me back to the bad old days before my radiation therapy and just after the recurrence, the first one. When I found out on the day of the test that a pet scan would not be covered. I felt abandoned and devastated. Then.

Now. The specter of an insurance company closing its fist around my life. About all the various incidents with insurance around Kate. Around the imaging studies. The constant trips, waiting rooms. Diagnosis. Prognosis. Each time a little worse, not better.

Feeling it all. In my chest, my face. My vision. A lassitude creeping over my muscles. An inertia in my bones. Not wanting to move. Take action. Be present.

Grief. Sadness. The profound exhaustion and stress. Kate’s long illness. Today. All present. Visiting me at the same time.

Won’t last. Will pass. Equanimity shattered for the moment.

My practice.

Name the moment: Kate’s birthday. Cancer matters swirling. People coming. A celebration of Kate’s life.

Name the feelings: Loneliness. Sadness. Exhaustion. Inertia. Grief. Resignation.

Choose: Yes, I’ll let these come. They all feel appropriate, timely. Necessary.

An instant feeling of relief when I chose. No longer pushing them away, trying to rationalize, or deny. Yes. These are my feelings. And, I am not my feelings.

The Jewish idea of the lev: the heart/mind. Which suggests to me, again, that the heart and mind are one, yet severable in a moment. The heart affects the mind and the mind affects the heart, they work in synchrony. Except when they don’t.

Right now my lev is one. Wracked and wrecked. OK with it. Need help today. Especially. A tough one. Yes, there it is. I need help. Today.

 

The High Priestess:  “Entering the stillness. The High Priestess seems to bar our way forward-don’t be in a rush to move onwards…true passivity is strong and fertile…Open to the stillness and the depth within you to gain strength and wisdom.” Druid Craft Tarot Deck

 

Over the last week plus I’ve drawn the High Priestess card three time and the Queen of Swords twice. My anima. Gaining ground, becoming stronger. Taking me down and encouraging me to stay strong, to act when the time is right. Wu wei. The Te, the integrity, of the Tao, the way. Strength for me right now, the path, involves surrender, slowing, resting in my inner sanctuary.

She who is me. And the feminine side of my intellect. Together. Nourishing each other. Counseling my animus to be still. To wait. To feel. To ask. Yes.

 

 

Sad

Kate, Glenwood Springs

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Monday gratefuls: Swinging low. Cool morning. Kate, always Kate. Jon. Rigel and Kep. Allergies calming down. Appointment today. My future with cancer. The Ancient Ones and Love. The clan gathering in person and in spirit.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sleep.

Tarot card: Seven of Swords, Druid Deck

 

 

A bit of darkness in my mood this morning. Allowed, I guess. Cancer on the comeback trail. A focus on Kate, her life, her loved ones. Will bring her death closer. God, I loved her. Love her. Miss her. Sadness and longing for what cannot be.

We had so many good years, so much mutual support and kindness. So many hours of gardening, cooking, dog caring, traveling this world. Enough, really. Desiring more may seem to make sense, but it doesn’t. Enough.

With cancer raising its ugly presence again I’m tempted to say the thing about my own life. Enough. And, when death arrives I’m confident I will be able to say just that. Enough. Desiring more may seem to make sense, but it doesn’t.

Singapore, 2016

Kate, my strong, noble, beautiful Kate, knew that desire was no longer hers when she said to me, “Death with dignity.” Brave. Real. True to her self and to our relationship.

No, I’m not there in any way. Not yet enough. Although I will say that what has been has been good, has been what I chose, what I needed. And, that I expect the same, living into the next few years with joy and anticipation.

Not without the occasional darkness. Darkness, my old friend, comes to visit me each Winter Solstice. A determined, long night holding me, reminding me of the time before life and the time after. So, when darkness comes into my mood, as it has this morning, I welcome it. The sinking into myself, the quietening of outside noise, a veil between my feelings and the world. Necessary, at times.

Not to say I want to stay there. No. But that I will go into myself, take my journey underground, hunt for Tiresias. Or, my Virgil. For the learning that comes from pursuing the inward and downward path, away from the sun, into the fecund night.

Finding, as I often do, that writing about my feelings changes them. Feeling now more like tackling the day, getting on with what comes next: cancer, house rejiggering, the celebration of Kate.

 

The Seven of Swords (Druid Craft Deck): “Insights. Strategy. Research. New ideas challenge old assumptions and great progress is made. Using intellect, wit, or charm to gain an advantage or recover something that has been lost..Strategic planning or research.” from the Druid Craft’s accompanying book.

Bald, gray, intensely thoughtful. Seven different swords available for his use. Working late at night as a waning crescent moon shows itself among clouds.

“Charlie, You’re a Druid!” John Ackerman, my spiritual advisor back in the mid-1980’s. I had gone deep into the Celtic world, begun to use the Great Wheel as a way of understanding life and death.

Not exactly a Druid, but a man deep into the way of the natural world, the Te of the Tao. Following a path that’s often fuzzy, mysterious, yet comforting and ever present.

I see myself in this card, willing to go into the darkness with or without illumination, to learn from it, to report back to the lit world.

Will need new ideas today at 2 pm. How to counter the cancer’s return. Yes. Making great progress? I sure hope so.

 

 

The Moon

Lughnasa and the Moon of Chesed

Sunday gratefuls: New neighbors. Rigel, slow. Kep, eager. Workout yesterday, 20 minutes of cardio. Treadmill. Mac and Cheese. Vacuuming. Video on Akitas. Bad air. Shortness of breath, sleep.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breath. Ruach.

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the Major Arcana

 

 

We’re #1! Denver topped the world list of most polluted cities yesterday. Smoke. Bad. Today, also bad. A level of 172 on a scale where 300 marks the start of I can’t breathe! weather. Not a spot we cherish. Better in the Mountains, but not by a lot. Smells like a clothes closet full of worn bonfire apparel.

Not to mention pollen. High yesterday. Fun times in the Arapaho National Forest.

Makes sleeping a challenge for me. I wake up consistently in the early morning with clogged sinuses. I can unclog them with saltwater, but the effort tends to wake me up so far that I have trouble returning to sleep.

Got a glimpse of the new neighbors yesterday. They brought their mountain bikes. Then, left.

Went 20 minutes on the treadmill yesterday. My IT band and the knot over my hip have begun to loosen. Still tight, but better. I can see a return to my old exercise habits in the not too distant future. This has been a tougher recovery than I had imagined. Slow and painful.

Friday and yesterday were domestic days. Doing chores like vacuuming Kep’s hair, brushing him. Again. Still. Making Rigel flee as I came toward her with the brush. Put some more soil in the road divot after traffic pounded down the initial batch.

Attended a session on kosher rules and regs. Virtual. Rabbi Jamie. He’s kosher at home, not necessarily so out. Mordecai Kaplan suggested this. Kosher at home for Jewish tradition, flexible out so dining with others doesn’t stigmatize Judaism.

The kosher rules don’t appeal to me though the notion of conscientious eating does. Hard, though. I find my meat and potatoes Midwestern diet stubbornly persistent. Long ago I added a fruit and a vegetable at most meals, but cutting down on red meat? Not so much. And, I have the vascular disease to prove it.

Big day tomorrow. PSA time. Appointment with oncologist on the 16th. As I’ve written before, this is an important one. After that, I go for a hearing exam. Maybe new hearing aids? Also, house cleaning.

The next day Coyote HVAC comes out to give me a bid for mini-split air conditioning. As pollen and smoke interrupt my sleep, heat, too, this feels like a logical step. At least for the two downstairs rooms. Might get pricey for the rest.

Elul, which begins this evening, is the sixth month of the Jewish lunar calendar. The New Year, Rosh Hashanah, is the first day of the next month, Tishri. It gets two nights of celebration. On the tenth day of Tishri the high holidays end with Yom Kippur, the feast of atonement.

Nissan, the first month of the Jewish year, is in March-April, the beginning of Spring. But. The Jewish year number changes on Rosh Hashanah. Not sure why.

Elul is a month of preparation for repentance and atonement, the central theme of the High Holidays. Chesed, loving-kindess, matters when a period of self-examination like this comes. Especially for your own soul. Treat yourself honestly, but gently.

 

The Moon:  A path runs from the sea, past a Dog and a Wolf howling, through two Stone Monoliths, and on beyond the rise. Perhaps to the Moon itself?

The Moon in a crescent phase shows itself between two curtains of Clouds and above the Monoliths. Mountains are visible in the background. The Coast goes on for some distance beyond the Monoliths and, to the left, a Crab crawls up on land, near the path but still partly in the water.

The overall effect is mysterious, lonely, and eerie. The howling adds to it.

With the Wolf and the Dog evolution has a prominent role, ancient ancestor and modern descendant showing how close they still are. The wild does not leave us. Consider fight or flight. Fear. Peripheral vision. Vasovagal response. Lust.

Both the Sea and the Moon can be metaphors for the subconscious or the unconscious. Perhaps life emerges from the unconscious, travels the path of evolution while retaining a rootedness in the past, then passes on through the gates of death back to a post consciousness existence.

Here’s what the Druid Craft creator says about this card:

Keywords: Psychic awakening. Dreams. Deep revelation of feminine mysteries. Facing Fears. Change. Imagination. Creative work.

“A difficult emotional journey ahead. Any loneliness or confusion you feel will pass as this phase reaches its natural conclusion.”

This feels like one with those cards of last week or so, ones suggesting a time of sadness, perhaps grief, will change in this next phase of my life. The August 18th celebration of Kate’s life will, I hope, mark a change. The retreat idea for the Michaelmas time sits gently in my mind as a time to integrate and incorporate that change into a new life.

May it be so.

 

 

 

It Means the World To Me

Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Monday gratefuls: Jon, Ruth, Gabe. The dinner they made. Their visit. Jon donating his Subaru to CPR. His management of his glucose levels and his depression. School starting for him this week. The kids in two. Kate, always. Rain. The Monsoon’s! Flank steak salad. Today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rigel’s indignant bark.

Tarot: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana (on the right), Druid Craft*

 

The Fates

Ancient ones in the morning. The thread that runs through our lives. Mine = curiosity. Another’s: leadership and service. Another’s: being in the experience. Anothers: being unconventional. Anothers: agency. What thread appears throughout the tapestry of your life?

Breakfast. Laundry. Nap. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe came up. They brought pasta salad, pasta with pesto, and steak. Not having to cook? Yeah. We ate a meal together. Jon and Gabe went out to remove items from the Subaru. Ruth went into the sewing room to sort out what she wants of Kate’s various quilting, sewing tools and cloth. I cleaned up the kitchen.

BJ

At 3 we all gathered round electronic rectangles to talk with Sarah and Annie in North Carolina. They were in Annie’s spacious two-bedroom apartment in a Winston-Salem assisted living spot. Annie’s been there a couple of weeks now.

We talked about the 18th, our plans as they have modified to accommodate Ruth and Gabe’s back to school day. Continental breakfast or brunch here. Cooking during the day for a meal after scattering Kate’s ashes. Family time. Collective grieving. A lesson from Judaism.

Jon and the kids left to return to their mom’s, for their week with her. The energy level in the house dropped back down to normal.

Love you all, I shouted out the door as they climbed into the Jeep gifted to them by Annie. We love you, too!

Kate in Rehab, 2018, with the quilt made for her by the Bailey Patchworkers.

The World. Stepping outside my comfort zone. See below. Grief wrenches you way outside your comfort zone, destroys it altogether for a bit. Pushes you beyond it because you have to go somewhere brand new and starkly different.

It’s almost four months now since Kate died. Funeral. Shiva. Family. Food. Anguish. Fussy administrative stuff. Picking up Kate’s ashes. Six weeks in Hawai’i. Overdoing my right leg. Coming back to a Kateless house. Settling back in. Groceries. Cooking. Jon, Ruth, Gabe. CBE. Rigel and Kep. The house.

Still moving with a bit of the slows. Not anguished anymore, but distracted. Pruning Kate’s closets, dresser, jewelry chests. Reorganizing her sewing room for Ruth and the Bailey Patchworkers. Tom’s help. Most of this accomplished from my end.

Donating to Mountain Resource Center and the consignment shop in Bailey await Marilyn’s return. August 11th. On August 13th Laurie and Jamie will come to retrieve what Ruth does not want. Ruth has already begun to move things. Still targeting the 18th, a couple of days before, as the point when all of Kate’s left behinds will be gone.

Seeing Jon and the kids pull away after a pleasant visit. Yes. P.T. still loosening up my I.T. band. A full freezer. The Tarot and Kabbalah class. Kep’s allergies resolved. Rigel eating well. House staining scheduled. The mini-split identified.

The World card suggests that I’ve passed through an initial, and difficult phase of grieving. It feels true to me. Life with Jon and the kids seems set for a smoother, loving future. The most dramatic aspects following Kate’s death have come close to resolution. Pruning. All the administrative details. Living day to day without her physical presence. Taking charge of my own, independent life.

“Right now you can rest in having achieved closure and the lessons you needed from this phase of your life.” Not sure I’d go quite this far. Closure has always been a suspect idea. I don’t want closure with Kate’s death. I want integration of my life with her and my life without her. Learning the initial lessons of grief? Yes, I believe I have.

Leaving for Hawaii

And, yes, there is a sense of satisfaction. I’ve not gone crazy, nor has despair put me down. But. I did not achieve these things alone, far, far from it. One of the lessons learned is the necessity of beloved community to weather hard times. So evident. Another lesson. Keep moving. Another. Keep Kate close. Always. Another. Work at transforming yourself and the relationships you have with others.

And more, I’m sure. These are the ones evident right now.

Yes. I’ll admit. I feel good about the months since Kate died. Not because they have been easy, but, to paraphrase JFK: because they have been hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*”This represents a moment to acknowledge the hard work that got you where you are now. Along with this achievement is a sense of deep satisfaction.

Right now you can rest in having achieved closure and the lessons you needed from this phase of your life.

In a practical sense, the World can suggest pushing yourself to explore the world with confidence —especially if you have issues stepping out of your comfort zone. It can hint at adventures found traveling or overseas.” tarotluv

 

 

 

Kindred Spirits

Last day of Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Mini-split air con units. Thanks, Tom. Mark’s suggestion for a topic on Sunday. Lotta sleep last night and this morning. Feeling good. An excellent meal with Jon yesterday evening. Rain. Cooler weather. Smoky on High. Lush mountain meadows, filled with waving stalks of pollen.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sashimi. Japan.

Tarot card: Ace of Wands, Druid Craft Deck

 

Good news. At dinner with Jon we talked about our new relationship, one with Kate no longer physically present. Though she remains a psychic presence for us both in powerful ways. We agreed we wanted to continue, be family. Over sushi, sashimi, and crab wontons. Uplifting.

I spent yesterday handling various matters. Groceries. Bills. Emails. Workout. The dinner with Jon. Must have worn me out because I slept 9 hours +. Also, rain and a cool night helped.

Tom helped me find the mini-split air conditioning system. It will work for my downstairs. Just have to find a contractor and get it installed. Too late, unfortunately, for Kate.

Taking this Saturday as a rest day, a travel day as Kate and I called it. We always took a rest day after long travel.

It was a big week. Ruth and Gabe here Sunday night through Tuesday evening. A lot  of pruning work with Ruth. House cleaners on Tuesday. Kep into VRCC for his allergy shot. P.T. on Monday and Wednesday. Tarot and Kabbalah on Wednesday. Alan for breakfast, Jackie for a haircut, and mussar on Thursday. Donating the wheelchair and the rollator. Errands yesterday and the time with Jon and the evening. Not to mention laundry, folding clothes, cooking, feeding the dogs. You know, all that ordinary homestuff.

Pruning goes well. I’m on a hiatus from it until Ruth makes up her mind about all the sewing related things. Still hoping to have it complete, or almost, before the 18th. Get furniture moved around over that time period. Try to get a new feel for the house sorted out by Thanksgiving.

Have had to modify the 18th because we learned this week that Ruth and Gabe’s first day of school is the 18th. Shifted activities to late afternoon and evening. Only possible wrinkle? The Delta variant. If it continues to rage, as it has of late, it may interfere with travel. If that happens, we’ll push this out to 2022. See this from this mornings Washington Post:

“The newly resurgent coronavirus could spark 140,000 to 300,000 cases a day in the United States come August, fueled by the highly transmissible delta variant and the widespread resumption of normal activities, disease trackers predict.”

Thomas Cole and William Cullen Bryant, Kindred Spirits Painting by Asher Brown Durand

Ace of wands. Rather than go to the Rider-Waite interpretations, I’m going to read this one on my own. The Druid Craft deck speaks to me as one grounded in Celtic lore and myth.

A bull elk with an 8 or 10 point rack stands on a rock that reminds me of the Pulpit Rock in Strand, Norway. It also reminds me of a painting by Asher Durand.

A steep cleft in the mountains separates the bull from another precipice, one shaded by an autumnal aspen grove.

Above the mountains the blazing sun sends fire to the tree, the elk, the mountains, the sky while a full moon hangs, almost invisible in the fiery presence, above a small spire of rock behind the elk.

Bull with water lily, 2015, Lake Evergreen

The wand lays itself over the sun, perhaps having summoned its energy. Or, in the process of summoning it? The wand has reddish bark that seems still living, as if the wand had only recently been cut from a tree, or somehow remains alive anyhow. Perhaps a rowan? The wand as alive seems confirmed by the green leaves, eight in all, mysteriously falling away from it.

The whole scene is peaceful. Some key words that come to mind: majestic. natural. communal. creativity. fire. determination. mountainous. lone elk. aspen grove. single wand.

Black Mountain, 2015

Perhaps the wand has become a conduit between the sun and the natural world at its fall change. The push of the sun’s fire has caused the wand to send its green leaves, which it needs to continue living, on a mission, as angels, messengers of the sun’s creative power.

The elk and the aspen grove, animal and plants, both salute the sun. A bull elk with a rack like that is ready for the rut, the annual fertility rite for all elks. The aspen grove, with its just turning toward gold leaves, has begun to prepare for winter, a time when it will have to live off foods stored in and around its interlocked root system.

The positive session with Jon last night, the on pace pruning, Tom’s visit a week ago, the Tarot and Kabbalah class have me feeling grounded, yet still transforming. Moving toward the creative energy of the sun, soaking it in with the Bull and the Aspen Grove. In the mountains. On my Pulpit Rock, where I stand with my kindred spirits, the river and mountain poets of Chinese history.

Life on a different, yet familiar ancientrail.

 

 

 

 

You Are Approaching a New Phase of Life

Summer and the almost full Lughnasa Moon

Friday gratefuls: Tom. The Cog Railway. Pikes Peak. Oxygen. Rigel. Kep. Patient dogs. Zelle. Joseph coming. Hearing appointment. Pine Valley Road. The North Fork Fire. The North Fork of the South Platte River. Colorado. Becoming Coloradan and Westerner.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Pikes Peak

Tarot card: Three of Cups

 

OK. There’s a streak here that’s inexplicable. At least by me. Granted that all perceived coincidence has a rootedness in the fact of personal experience and its interpretation. This close a hit feels unlikely without a bit of woo-woo in the air.

Here are three short interpretive excerpts about the three of cups:

“What it signals most strongly, however, is being with those who are emotionally in tune with you and you with them.”

“Three of Cups Tarot Card, in its core, represents finding yourself in a community of people who you can trust and rely upon.”

“There is abundant energy gathering around this moment that signifies you are approaching a new phase of life.”

Having read those would it you surprise you to know that my well-over thirty year friend, Tom Crane, came to visit yesterday? And, that we spent the day breakfasting, Happy Camping, and riding a cog-railway to the top of Pikes Peak?

Tom himself, the smaller group of Ancient Ones: Bill, Mario, and Paul, and the full herd of the Woolly Mammoths are exactly those with whom I am most emotionally in tune. Congregation Beth Evergreen folks, too, but to a lesser degree because of a shorter period of time together.

I do have a community of people I trust, two such communities: The Woollies and CBE.

Given the salience of the drawn cards to my actual life, hard for me to grasp, but there nonetheless, I’m intrigued by that third excerpt. It suggests I’m approaching a new phase of life.

I can feel it. As I move Kate’s clothing out of the closets and dresser, her jewelry out of its many different locations, and sort her cosmetics, I can feel spaces opening in my life. When the sewing room empties out, August 13th, I’ll feel more free.

No, not of Kate. Not at all. But of the stuff that she used in her daily life, no longer needed, and occupying emotional territory in my psyche. Her belongings are not a huge burden, but they are one and removing them feels good. Tom’s going to help me with that today. This is part of the pruning, the right-sizing, of my life, which includes my stuff, too. I plan to donate clothing of mine, as well.

Talked with Tom yesterday about my ideas on remodeling the kitchen and the bathroom. He was positive about it, about making the house as pleasant and useful a space as I can. I’m going to go forward with them, maybe a couple of more things, too. Like a fan in the downstairs TV room and in the guest room, and maybe a few touches in the main room. Not sure what right now.

Our house in the early morning, light on Shadow Mountain

When I’m done with all this, presumably sometime this fall, there will be a kitchen I love to cook in, an upstairs bathroom that no longer looks tired, a conversation area with chairs in front of the fireplace, a new dining room, sitting area in the old sewing room, and a newly arranged downstairs TV room.

Plan to follow Kate’s example and live here until I die. This excites me, feels appropriate as a marker for a new life.

Kate will still be everywhere, going with me, her quilts and jewelry and art adorning what will always be our house.