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  • Busy. Busyness?

    Fall and the (full) Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Beth Alpha Synagogue, Greco-Roman period, Jerusalem. Zodiac

    Wednesday gratefuls: Lisa, the respiratory therapist. Dr. Emrie, pulmonologist. Ruby, my hot ride. Elisa and Luke, teaching Torah and the Stars. Rabbi Jamie and his wisdom. Midnight Mass. Very, very dark. Blue Mountain Kitchens. Rigel, the night barker and early riser. Kep, with me.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grief’s work within me

    Tarot: Queen of Pentacles, Druid

     

    I’m retired. Right? Yeah. Then why do my days seem so full of late? Take Monday. And, yesterday.

    Get up. Feed dogs. Write ancientrails. Eat breakfast. Some (too brief) cardio. Tarot and the Stars. Finish that. Take a shower. Wait for electrician. Light lunch. Into Lakewood for an appointment with Dr. Emrie, pulmonologist. Back up the hill to the post office. Finally mail that package to Max. Over to Aspen Park Dental for Dental release for an osteopenia drug. Home for 20 minutes. Off to CBE for a time with Rabbi Jamie. Come home. Feed dogs. Heat up a Marie Callendar meal. Eat. Watch TV. Go to bed.

    Rigel. Barking, barking in the middle of the night. Insistent. I ignored her and went back to sleep. A while later. Again. Insistent. Got up. 5:30 am. Gonna be 4:30 very soon. OK. OK. I’m getting up. Geez. Just wait. She and Kep went outside. Morning meds. Make coffee. Let Kep and Rigel in. Give Rigel carprofen. Food for them.

    Now I’m in the Loft, writing ancientrails. So far like yesterday just pushed ahead an hour by Rigel the wonder dog. I wonder what she was up to?

    Checked Wells-Fargo. Ode to Joy! A ten-thousand dollar injection from Uncle Sam. Social Security back dated to April. And, updated to spousal benefits. Thank you, Kate. Feel like I just crossed the final line in a slow motion run that’s now 7 months long.

    Let’s go backwards yesterday. Rabbi Jamie at CBE. I had three things to talk about with him. First, I told him he was the best teacher I’ve ever had. Why? I got trained in academics as a blood sport, disputative, competitive, no holds barred. You have taught me appreciative inquiry. I can learn from books and articles, people and ideas that I might have dismissed as wrong headed, illogical, or just plain wrong. I did not add, but will soon, that he’s truly learner centered, vastly knowledgeable, and Socratic.

    Then I asked him about grief. I told him I felt good. And, wondered if that was ok, was I honoring Kate? He confirmed what I thought. I grieved with her over her long illness. I took care of her and have no regrets in that, or any other regard, related to her death. Also, she chose to die. Neither my burden, nor guilt. Her family and I were together and supportive of each other in her final days.

    Hendrick Andriessen (1607–1655)

    I didn’t add but will now. Sitting shiva was healing, as was the service. Also, I’ve had the comfort of friends near and far. Family, too. Edging my way into that new life, Kate present in blessed memory.

    Finally, I asked him about how to support Jon. He agreed that the bounded financial help I’ve given has clear limits and that my approach makes sense. He did suggest occasional conversations with Ruth and Gabe to see how they’re holding up. I have those, but not often, since Jon’s usually here when they are. I’ll make more of a conscious effort.

    Walked out of the synagogue into a golden Leaf splattered late afternoon, a chill Wind coming off the Mountains to the West, and light Rain falling.

    Before that I’d seen Dr. Emrie. A good report, this is a good report, he said. Referring to the spirometer test Lisa took last Thursday. You’re fine for now and there things we can do if you begin to get short of breath or these numbers go down. Left that appointment feeling good about my lungs. Not gonna spend much time on them in my head, though I do have a more vigorous core workout segment in my new program.

    The electrician that contracts with Coyote HVAC came to take pictures of the areas where he had to work. David’s been sick the last two days, so they’re a day or so behind. No big deal. I imagine they’ll finish this week.

    While waiting on him I got good news from Blue Mountain Kitchens. The new cabinet maker whose website I posted last Thursday. He will match the cabinet estimates in Blue Mountain’s bid. Means I’ll get much more sophisticated cabinetry at a price I already know I can afford. Unless Bear Creek really wows me, I’m going with Blue Mountain.

    Torah and the Stars began to get into the deep end. The Sefer Yetzirah is the first book in the Jewish Kabbalistic tradition.

    “He bound twenty-two letters on his tongue, and the Holy One, blessed be He, revealed the secret him. He drew them with water. He burnt them with fire. He agitated them with breath. He burned them with seven stars. He directed them with twelve constellations.” SY, long version, (6:6)

    We looked at zodiac signs according to the Jewish calendar. My birthday is in the month of Shevat. We discussed our birthday parsha, mine is Mishpatim, Exodus 21-24. We also looked at an early Jewish take on what the day of the week means and what it means to be born on a particular day. Friday in my case.

    This course has a lot of content, just like the Tarot class, and most of it new to me. What I like. I can swim in this ocean.

    Before that was the usual day with ten minutes of cardio.

    All those anima related major arcana cards, the Rebirth card, the Queen of Pentacles I drew this morning have been signalling a new way, a new life. I’m living into it. Right now.


  • Good for Her Age

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    With Rigel, Andover

    Tuesday gratefuls: Marilyn and Irv. Julie Freshman. Alan. Dr. Palmini on Rigel, “She looks so good for her age.” 13 December 1st. Mark and Mary. Diane. Tom and Roxann. Suffering. Jon, too. Ruth and Gabe. Social Security. Finally responsive. A neon Hermit sign.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A neon Hermit sign

    Tarot: Two of Wands, Druid. second day in a row…

     

    Ta dah. First. Got through the Lakewood Social Security office phone maze. Tends to drop you out with no warning. Live human! Who empathized and contacted the guy who had my application for spousal benefits. Who in turn said he had adjudicated it that very day and it was “out for payment.” 3-5 business days. We’ll see about that. I started the process in April. April. That’s the last major item of the administrative matters necessitated by Kate’s death. I think.

    Had lunch with Marilyn and Irv Saltzman. Aspen Perks. Their food is better than in the past. We talked philosophy, science, grandkids, mountain living. Good friends. I appreciate the chance to see them regularly.

    Tara and Marilyn, CBE

    Marilyn is the chairperson of the Mountain Resource Center board. A multi-service organization. Lot of poor folks in the mountains. Food bank. Resale store where a lot of Kate’s clothing went. Employment assistance. Counseling. Folks up here who give a damn. Mitzvah. Tikkun Olam.

    Alan chaired the Ovation West board for two years. Rabbi Jamie organized the Interfaith Alliance for Colorado and the Evergreen Homeless shelter. Rich has served on the Special Olympics Colorado board for six years and volunteered for years before that.

    Don’t know about other Beth Evergreeners but I’m sure there are many other examples. I know Nancy Friedman puts out a weekly e-mail of political action opportunities for the liberal to radical crowd. Activist Annie is, well, as she names herself. Luke actively advocates for LGBT issues.

    Engaged. Caring. Jewish. At least at Beth Evergreen those words all mean the same thing.

    Admitted to Marilyn and Irv I’m fed up with having to think about the corona virus. And, feel like I’m too cautious about it. Canceling my trip to Minnesota, for example. Yet. This lung stuff with the paralyzed diaphragm. Not sure how to weigh benefits and risks. Caution trumps it all. I’m no adrenaline junkie, but neither do I consider myself risk averse. I wanna get out and do stuff. But. I don’t wanna die yet. Damn it.

    Zoom appointment yesterday with Julie Freshman, an insurance broker who handles medicare advantage plans. Believe she’s found a different version of the plan I currently have, AARP Secure Advantage, that will work better for me. She’s also found a newly opening medical practice in Evergreen that will be taking new patients and will take my insurance. No more drives into the deep south of the Denver burbs for primary care. Will start in January. Julie is a sweetheart and smart. I liked her a lot.

    Young Rigel and Vega, Andover

    Finished that call. Loaded Rigel in Ruby and drove to Sano. She has bumps and lumps on her back, sebaceous cysts. A skin condition, seborrhea, too. Antibiotics. Expensive blood panel to check on infection, other possible triggers for the seborrhea as well as her liver function. She takes twice a day carprofen (doggy tylenol) for the severe arthritis in her right rear leg. Palmini thinks she may have a slipped disc as well.

    Each time he’s seen her over the last year plus Palmini’s remarked on how good she looks for such an old dog. I can still see the puppy in her sometimes. She’s got a will to thrive, loves chasing things still, eats well, and keeps me warm. Last night she was on one side of me and Kep on the other. A three mammal night.

    That was the day. A lot in it for this guy.

    Deb and Dave, owners of On the Move Fitness

    Frustrated with myself though. Not leaving time for exercise. Missed last Friday and now Monday. I don’t exercise on the weekend. Important to both my physical and mental health. Sorta decided I would take responsibility now for my own workouts. Planning them, learning them, changing them when necessary. Used to do this, but got in the personal trainer habit after my knee surgery in 2016.

    I liked Dave and Deb, appreciated their encouragement and their friendship. Dave died last June of glioblastoma. Covid put some distance between Deb and me. Reminded me that I could do this for myself, too. Kate and I had personal trainers off and on, but I followed my own path the years just prior to our move to Colorado. Back to that now.

    Torah and the Stars at 10 am. Focusing on the Kabbalistic side of astrology. A brave old world. New to me, this tarot/astrology domain. Opening slowly. Learning.

     

     

     

     

     


  • Leverage

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Monday gratefuls: Kep and Rigel, my companion dogs. Mark and Mary. Diane. The folks at Groveland. The Ancient ones who attended. White privilege. Allies. Justice. Paul and Christmas. Holiseason not far off. Darkness.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Check Your Privilege

    Tarot: Two of Wands, Druid

    Got my presentation, Check Your Privilege, before Groveland UU yesterday. It went well. The discussion afterward was on point about racism and what a group of privileged white folks might do. It felt like mild redemption to me since the last presentation I gave on Zoom for them got scrambled and hashed. I’ll post Check Your Privilege someday this week.

    The pandemic and zoom have changed so much. It’s now conceivable to a congregation in Minnesota to ask a former member to present on a Sunday morning. And, just as conceivable for them to say yes. Plus, my friends, including one in Maine, could attend if they so chose. And, they did.

    Office work. As I noted here after talking to Mike and Kate, virtual first or remote only organizations have already begun to take shape. Her organization no longer has a headquarters.

    Connecting with friends and family. I communicate with a cousin in San Francisco face to face each week. Four old friends from Minnesota every Sunday. I can and have had sessions with my brother in Saudi Arabia, my cousin in San Francisco, and my sister in Singapore.

    Huh. Just thought about a Keaton Zoom reunion. Mary? Diane? Mark? What do you think?

    Education. I’ve taken several classes, live, through the Kabbalah Experience and now one with the teacher in NY and the students as far away as Australia. There are many more such classes.

    Zoom provides the medium and Covid the rationale.

    Many articles agree that the office/workspace will never be the same. That will impact many central cities which rely on downtown office workers as during the week, daytime customers. What will happen to all the unused offices? To all the small businesses? Will rush hours become less crowded? What will happen to the tax revenues from office towers?

    We’re moving into a future never anticipated, with tools still a bit raw. And learning happening on the fly.

    Still no joy with my friends at Social Security. Had I fewer resources I would not be feeling socially secure right now.

    Tomorrow and Wednesday will see a wrap to the mini-split installation. Only the kitchen to go after that. Once that’s settled I’m going to take another break. Of some kind.

    I’d like to travel a bit in Colorado, but I’m feeling anxious about hotel/motel rooms. Not clear to me whether that’s safe or not. I’m really tired of this whole viral dome over my life. And, I imagine you’re tired of it over yours. Not to mention it’s flu season.

    Lunch with Marilyn and Irv at Aspen Perks. Then, a zoom (see!) consult with Julie Freshman about getting a new insurance plan and a new medical practice for an internist. Tired of New West and AARP Secure Advantage.

     

     

     


  • More about Jon

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Saturday gratefuls: Kep and Rigel. Kep’s cytopoint shot. Mark in Saudi Arabia. Mary in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Diane still in San Francisco. The Ancient Ones: Maine, Minnesota, Colorado. Jon. His suffering. Ruth, her depression. Coyote HVAC. Possible fancy cabinet maker for the kitchen. At a reasonable? price. The new hearing aid and the Roger.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Corned Beef and Eggs at New York Deli

    Tarot: Eight of Cups

     

    Mini-split installation proceeds. David and his helper were here until 3 yesterday. Heat pump installed next to the chimney on the outside wall for the main splits. Heat pump installed on the east (or so) facing side of the garage for the loft unit.

    Excited for them to go operational next week. Though. I won’t use their heating function much. At least I don’t think I will.

    It may be that they’re cheaper to use than my boiler. Wouldn’t be difficult. Gas up here is so expensive. I’m considering getting an induction stove to cut down on the escaping gas, a contributor to climate change. Doing the kitchen, so, hey!

    Had lunch with Jon yesterday at the New York Deli. He’s in rough shape. As he walked toward me, he limped a bit, looked like an old man. He has cellulitis on his skin and goes in and out of low blood pressure as his cortisol replacement wanes. I’m worried about him.

    Not a lot I can do given the distance, but I’m ensuring that he will not lose his house in the short term and hiring an electrician to fix a problem that causes certain appliances to go off if another one turns on.

    When asked how his emotions fared, he replied, I’m doing ok. And, I believe him. He has a new possibility, being on permanent disability, and will probably get approved at least for medical leave through January.

    He’s making prints, developing children’s books. Being creative is a happy place for him and I believe that’s keeping him sane right now. That and the kids. Ruth and Gabe are supportive when they’re with him.

    Jon would really like to talk to Kate, get her advice. She was so smart, caring, and objective. A tough combination to find. Plus she knew his medical history. She worried, from the time I met her, that she would outlive him. She knew the ravages diabetes alone can wreak. Now he has the Addison’s which complicates his situation.

    Seeing him made me sad, took me down a bit. I’ll cop to  compassion fatigue from caregiving and grief. However. I’ve gained back a lot of strength, gotten good rest in the 7 months since Kate died. 7 months!

    Put in a request to look at new Medicare advantage plans. New West has screwed up one too many times for me. United Health, too. I need a new internist at least. In an organized practice that’s not bleeding providers. Found a great insurance broker who will help me look.

     

    Eight of Cups:

    Cups are the suit of the emotions, symbolized not only by the cups but the water swirling around them in this card.

    I relate this to the Watercourse Way of Alan Watt’s, an explanation of Taoism and wu wei. Soft wins over hard. The water has cut a path down the mountainside and around the shelf of rock on which the cups, empty cups, sit.

    The moon is in eclipse as the hooded figure, a druid?, a hermit?, climbs a steep trail up into the mountains.

    The eights represent harvest, abundance, manifestation. The eight of cups suggests emotional closure, wrapping up an ongoing project, a phase of life that has come to an end. It suggests moving on, taking a new direction, leaving the old life behind.

    Yesterday’s Moon, the 18th major arcana, told me I would have to go deep with Jon. Get into the parts of myself that have blocked me from him. I did that, saw him as he is right now. In part I’m leaving behind my old understanding of him.

    Also, I’m leaving behind the most difficult parts of grieving for a new life. At least I feel that I am  Symbolized by the Hermitage. Contacted a neon sign company for a bid on the neon hermit. They will get back to me soon.

    Still flailing a bit, tough finding a regular schedule, one that will allow consistency in my workouts. Ragged, not fully there yet. Partly due to taking two classes at once. I privilege time for class work. As I always have. And, there’s that damned Ikea bed which keeps losing its slats when Rigel climbs up on the bed. Gonna get some plywood to put under there. Should solve it.


  • Grief calling to grief

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Thursday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Sandy, a sweet visit. Rigel’s skin problem. Joseph, on his way. The three Mule Deer Does that visited our yard yesterday afternoon. A very cool Night. The house all pretty. The mini-splits coming next week. And, the kitchen remodel is on! Fiddler on the Roof this weekend with Jon, Ruth, and Gabe. The Hermitage.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Learning

    Tarot: Page of Arrows, the Wren.  Wildwood Deck

     

    Got the green light from my financial advisor for the kitchen remodel plus the mini-splits. With the house staining completed on Tuesday these three will inspire me, I hope, to better cooking, make it possible to sleep in the heat and pollen season, and feel good when I turn in the drive coming home.

    Our pre-Covid housekeeper, Sandy, came yesterday. She’s a smart, streetwise, tough, empathic lady. We talked a long time. Kate was a mother-figure to her.

    Covid wrecked housekeeping/cleaner’s businesses. We paid Sandy for a month’s work because of that. Jackie, our hair stylist, too. While Covid was a nuisance for Kate and me, largely, it was a devastating loss for many small businesses, especially solo enterprises like Sandy and Jackie’s.

    Sandy moved to Maryland to be with friends and family. Then found herself trapped there by Covid restrictions and strapped finances. She followed Kate’s decline through Caring Bridge. And felt awful because she missed Kate, wanted to see her, but couldn’t. We talked and cried together. Her grief signalling mine to come to the surface.

    Sandy has a benign (?) brain tumor that pushed her brain stem to the side and a platelet disorder that might be a sort of blood cancer. Difficult health issues she gets. Her life has had steep valleys, few peaks. A son in difficulty in California. Her bio mom and her adopted mom’s deaths. The loss of her successful cleaning business. A long period of addiction.

    It feels so peaceful in here. When I came before, there was always this sadness. Kate was holding on, but barely. Now though it’s calm here. I know Kate’s happy for you.

    She wanted you to have this time, this peace. She’s smiling, her suffering’s over. And she’s watching you.

    Sandy was very confident about Kate’s presence in an amazing, warm place. As is Jackie. I take comfort in their comfort. Difficult for me though. I’d like to believe it. Maybe the reincarnation, soul business could explain it? Oh, the skeptic in me hangs on with his fingertips. Hell, no, his whole hands. I’ll leave it at don’t know.

    Life here in the Hermitage has changed in the last month or so. The inner weathervane turned toward calm skies, cool days, and quiet nights. The fourth phase.

    Leaning into the hidden, the mysterious, the unknown. The fantastic and the fabulous. Leaning into love, longtime friendships, family, dogs. Home where my heart really, really is. A time of the spirit, a time of transition from life to death.

     

     

     


  • Fourth Phase Life

    Fall and the Moon of the Thin Veil

    Wednesday gratefuls: A stained house, newly painted garage doors. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Sandy, coming up to be with Kate’s ashes. Kate, always Kate. The Woolly retreat in November. The Mountains. The Rocks, Lodgepoles, Aspens, Creeks, and Wild Critters. Deep peace.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Roadtrip!

    Tarot: Ace of Pentacles

     

    Daniel stained my whole house in just over a day. A sweet man. The 3M window coverings reminded me of St. Paul, of the Twin Cities. Alvin, his partner yesterday, took down my blue lights. Think I’m gonna leave’m down. Lots of neighbors complaining about lights ruining the dark Sky, a true Mountain amenity. They’re not wrong. Does mean I gotta dig out the box of solar lights I ordered. I need something to identify our house at night. So easy to drive right past it.

    January 2020

    On Monday, Coyote HVAC. Then, choosing between bids for remodeling the kitchen. Probably won’t happen until later in the year. May seem strange, my doing all these things, spending a bunch of money. Not to me. They represent another phase of grief, one in which I celebrate what Kate and I had together while creating my fourth phase life. Hence, I’m enhancing the house she found and in which we shared our last years together.

    Got a note from the Assistance Fund, the one that pays down my copay for Orgovyx from $800 a month to $10. I have to reapply for coverage on December 1st. Won’t miss that deadline.

    Greg Lell, owner of the painting company, came by yesterday to get his check. We got to talking. He was, he said, a dairyCatholic.* He ran the words together. His parents figured out a three to four year gap system that resulted in six siblings for him, and, crucially, a new farm hand growing into the job as one left it. Oddly, he has a distinctive Texas accent, but he grew up in Colorado. Over 15 years in Texas he began to sound like a native.

    Many Woolly brothers, Tom, Mark, Paul, have decided not to attend the retreat. Excellent reasons, probably ones that apply to me, but I need to get outta here, get on the road, be somewhere else. Not new, forty years a Minnesotan, but also not Colorado.

    Largest wood fired kiln in the U.S. Bresnahan in sportcoat

    I will be staying in retreat lodging at St. John’s Monastery in Collegeville. I have done retreats there before and visited many times. The ceramic urn which holds Kate’s ashes came out of the Johanna Kiln, shaped by Richard Bresnahan from clay dug not far from the monastery. The firing of the Johanna Kiln is a major event as it’s a dragon kiln with several bays snaking up a hillside. When it’s firing, volunteers feed split Wood into its firebox 24 hours a day until the ceramics finish their ordeal. Maybe I’ll finally buy a teapot.

    Drew the Ace of Pentacles this morning. The aces are potential, the essence of their suit. Pentacles represent mother earth, malkut, this world, this physical world. In many cases this card may signal success in business, an inheritance, making progress in a career. It also can suggest deep peace, well being in this world. Feeling calm.

    As I’ve entered this new phase of grieving, a great calm has settled within me. A deep peace. I’m more in my life than regretting, mourning Kate’s death. As I said yesterday, my life with her is the foundation for this phase, what I’m calling my fourth phase. I’m modeling this fourth phase idea on the Hindu life phase of renunciation and a focus on the spiritual.

    The Ace suggests I’m on the right path. Let’s call it a new ancientrail. Though the road that led here connects to it, this ancientrail has made a sharp turn toward the West, toward the setting Sun. It is the final phase of life and one I want to walk intentionally. To walk it like a Celtic Christian saint. Peregrenatio.

    *Yes, I did mention the other dairyCatholic I know, Mr. Bill!


  • What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me? 

    Fall and the Thin Veil Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Black Mountain. Golden Fire. Those bucks who visited. Coolness. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Staining the house. Amy at Mile High Hearing. Phonaks. The Roger. Kate, always Kate. Mark Horn. The Tree of Life spread. Tarot. Changing my perception of myself. That steak I thawed. Potatoes. Peas and carrots. Self-care.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark Horn’s answer to my Tarot spread question

    Tarot: Two of Cups

     

    This exchange is an email between the man, Mark Horn, teaching the Tree of Life spread class, and myself. I post it here because he somehow (how does the Tarot work, anyhow?) identified a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately.

    How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage?”

    Hesitant. Reluctant. Shy. Timid. Maybe not words you’d apply to me. But they are on target in this instance. I’ve been a faithful student all my life, learning as much as I can. I have written novels and short stories. Many sermons. Literally millions of words on this bog. Yet, I’ve done almost nothing to ensure others see my work, hear my voice.

    “What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?” Mark asked. This question tumbles around now like clothes in the washer. Why have I been so timid, so shy, so reluctant, so hesitant to get my work out there?

    I don’t know the answer, but it’s a question worth exploring. This tarot stuff. Powerful.

     

    I wrote to Mark:

    “Though I’m less new to Kabbalah, I’m still in an early learning state with Tarot.

    Which makes me feel unable to properly read the cards I got for my supernal triad spread.

    Keter: The Devil

    Chokamah: The Chariot

    Binah: The Hermit reversed

    I got stuck on the Devil in the Keter position. Is my shadow the point here? I’m a recovering alcoholic, but I’ve been sober and calm 46 years. Not really addicted to anything.

    Anyhow, I then noticed the Chariot has a crown, so it’s stronger up here in the supernal triad. Not sure what ambition is about for me at 74. Not feeling like there are mountains for me to climb. Except of course the mountain on which I live. Ironically, it’s named Shadow Mountain.

    Hermit reversed? My wife died in April so I’m a widower, living in our house with our two dogs, Rigel and Kepler. I like being alone, but I see friends, close friends, regularly and attend Congregation Beth Evergreen’s events and see my grandkids and step-son regularly.

    Can you point me toward some help?

    I enjoyed the class a lot. Looking forward to next week.

     

    Mark Horn responded:

    Hi Charles,

    I’m glad you enjoyed the class. Let me give you some suggestions for these cards.

    When the Devil appears in Keter, well, one of the questions that comes up you have already spoken to, which is addiction of some sort—but there’s more to the Devil than that—it’s always good to ask, “is there some lie that i have been told about myself, or taken in unconsciously, that I need to free myself from?”

    -What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?

    -Does my experience with addiction give me a role to play in helping others find freedom from substance abuse? (And specifically, if you’re in AA, have you taken on the role of a sponsor or a service position in your local AA? And if not, why not?)

    -How can I help others see through their illusions with humor? (The esoteric title of the Devil is The Lord of Mirth, and humor that helps people see the truth is one of the possible ways to interpret the card)

    -And yes, shadow is something that comes up here too, so that a question to ask is: what shadow elements do I still need to bring to light and heal?

    With the Chariot, some questions in the Chokmah position might be:
    How can I better engage the wisdom I have achieved? What new goals would inspire me? How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others?

    The Hermit and reversals—I haven’t discussed how to read reversed cards yet, so good to have asked. This is one of those places where I let my intuition take over. By that I mean I don’t always read reversals. My feeling is that the context will help, and every hard has both a positive and negative reading, and which reading to go with becomes clear as we examine and ask questions. But, since a question that came up with the Chariot in Chokmah could be:  How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage? How can I share my light with others who need it? In what ways can I make my life an example for others who are struggling on their path?

    With three Major Arcana cards in the Supernal triad, this is a powerful grouping, and given the context you mentioned, feels very much to the point.

    One of the reasons I give “questions to ask” rather than interpretations of the card is that an interpretation is closed, but a question, at least the way I try to phrase it, is open-ended and calls for thought before a response. It may not even call for a response, but be more of a question to live with. The questions are meant to resonate with the querent, and lead them to examine things they may or may not have thought about.

    And one thing I often tell people I read for is that the cards almost always tell you something you already know—you just need to hear it again or hear it from another source so that you’re more present to the information.

    I hope this is helpful.

    Everbest,

    Mark”

     


  • My Cauldron

    Fall and the waning crescent of the Michaelmas Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Greg Lell, starts today staining the house. Susan, who will care for the dogs when I go to Minnesota, comes at 10:30. Marina Harris and her crew coming today to clean. RJ working on how much money I can spend. Coyote HVAC next Monday. Kate, always Kate. Those two Mule Deer Bucks. The beginning after the ending.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The World, #21 of the Major Arcana

    Tarot: The World

     

    Bubbling and churning. My life a cauldron, happily. Eye of house stain. Leg of house cleaning. Fingernail of dogsitter. Horn of Mule Deer Buck. Feather of mini-splits. Bits of redo and redesign of kitchen. A dash of Orgovyx. One major arcana. A pinch of the ayn sof. A sprinkle of Stars. A slice of Woolly Mammoth Tusk. Two measures of Aloha. Tears of grief. Stir with family and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Simmer for a season or two.

    Not sure of much these days. Which suits me just fine. My path has companions worthy of Chaucer. A location worthy of poetry. A destination unknown.

    My ancientrail, my life, has begun to reknit itself, reconstruct. The base of this reknitting? The love and life I had with Kate. Her smile, her laugh, her sharp insights, her deep knowledge and compassion. Her kindness. Not gone, here, right here in my soul. Her hand in mine until the end of time.

    She found this house. She earned most of the money I receive monthly. She encouraged me to leave the ministry and take up writing. We were brave together. Adventurous. We loved each other and left imprints on each other’s souls.

    Now I have to walk this ancientrail without her physical presence. I wish it were not so, but it is. As I put a few touches on the house, learn methods to access the occult, manage my cancer, exercise, spend time with friends, read, write, paint, I’m living forward, not looking backward.

    Changing the house a bit will help me say, yes, this is my place, too. It will never be other than our place, but no ghosts allowed. Only good memories.

    The whole Tarot, Kabbalah, Astrology, Judaism journey has me on a strange side road from that of the skeptic. Where it leads is to mystery, of that I’m sure. How it will affect my life? Unclear. Maybe a lot. Maybe only some. Tincture of time. (a favorite phrase of Kate’s)

    When I came up for closing on this house, October 31, 2014, three Mule Deer Bucks greeted me in the back. We stood with each other for a long time, not moving, seeing each other. After they left, I knew the Mountain Spirits had welcomed Kate and me to their realm. Samain.

    Yesterday, two more came.

     

    They came on a day when Black Mountain was aflame.

    I got up this morning and let Kep out and he chased one of the bucks who had stayed the night. The buck cleared the five foot fence as if it wasn’t there. Kep was pretty damned proud of himself. He never barked.

    Back to that pot. Double, toil and trouble, cauldron burn, cauldron bubble.

     


  • A Good Oncology Visit

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Mark Horn. The sephirot. The Tree of Life. Zoom. Kabbalah. Astrology. Alan. The Parkside. Breakfast out. Jackie. Oyama. Kristie. Quest labs. Golden Trees. Tall Mountains. Water falling down the Mountainside. The new trail. Evergreen.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Tarot

    Tarot:  The Moon, #XVIII of the Major Arcana

     

    Guess this is good news. I didn’t remember my visit to my oncologist when I wrote yesterday’s post. Anyhow, I’m remembering it now.

    The route I took so often with Kate. To Swedish Hospital. Down the Hill to 285 and go on until morning. Well, at least to the Safeway just past Broadway. Urology Associates has an office at the Swedish campus, one of three.

    Saw Kristie. Whom I like. She shows me my reports, prints them out. Explains things. She’s an advocate for her patients. Will listen to whatever question I have and answer it as well as she can. She’s never in a hurry. “I want to be your cheerleader.” From a lot of folks that would make me bristle, but with Kristie, I hand her a pompom.

    In less than a month Orgovyx has taken my PSA down from 7.4 to 1.0. “That’s a great result.” Two bits, four bits… The side effects have begun to diminish. The debilitating fatigue is gone. The hotflashes are intense but shorter and less frequent than the Lupron induced ones. It did not raise my blood sugar. Somehow the lipid panel got missed, but I’ll find out next time if it’s pumping up my triglycerides.

    I’ve achieved castration level testosterone reduction. Gosh. Isn’t that good! …a dollar. All for vanished testosterone stand up and holler!

    My location in the prostate cancer trajectory has changed. I now have advanced prostate cancer. In essence this means it can no longer be cured. But, it can be managed as a chronic disease. Androgen deprivation therapy, ADT, can work, does seem to be working for me right now. However, ADT often finds its utility waning after it has been used for a while. Some kind of resistance builds up.

    And so. I had a blood draw at Kristie’s request. Well, Aster tried twice to draw my blood, said “I failed! I’m gonna get Paula.” Aster told me the story of her first for real blood draw. “The guy forgot to tell me he was terrified of needles. He jerked when I poked him and the needle went in, under the skin, and came out further on. I think I was more upset than he was.” I bet that’s a memory that will last. Paula succeeded.

    The blood draw is for a genetic test that identifies 32 genetic mutations known to cause prostate cancer. Kristie, “This is not only for research. We now have targeted drugs for some of these mutations. If you have one of them, we may able to give you a specific therapy for your cancer.”

    Thinking to that day when ADT no longer works.

    A good visit. As good as you can have at your oncologist’s. Cancer losing. More losing expected. Other treatments available.

    Told Kristie I realized the other day that I’ve now had prostate cancer for six and a half years. Glass half full Kristie said that means mine is less aggressive because I went for some time with lower PSA’s. True. But. Aggressive enough to keep coming back after the two gold standard treatments: prostate removal and radiation.

    Even so. It was good.

    Not going into it today, but I started my Tarot and the Tree of Life Spread class. Mark Horn is a good teacher. Organized. Thoughtful. Kind. Responsive.

    The Moon. #18 in the major arcana. Again. I keep drawing major arcana. The Lady. The Moon. The Hermit. The Devil. The Chariot. A lot of energy swirling around me, in me. Feels right.

    Will just note here that I’m having a push/pull experience with my Kabbalah, Tarot, Astrology learning. The skeptic, a key part of my mental habitus, keeps screwing up his face. C’mon, Charles. Whatcha doin?

    Another part says, yeah, I know. But the way these cards have spoken to me, I can feel an inner world value, an introspective assist that helps me. Same with the Kabbalah. Astrology still kicks in the skeptic, but I’m trying to figure out how it fits with the archetypal insights from Kabbalah and Tarot. I’m holding all this in my alembic, believing that the fire of continuous practice will decide how I really feel.

     

     

     

     


  • Michaelmas

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Wednesday gratefuls: Coyote HVAC. Starting next Thursday. Greg Lell, starting tomorrow on house staining. Mussar. Tarot. Kabbalah. Astrology. Elisa Robyn. Rabbi Jamie. Alan. David Jordani. Tom Crane and his colleague who recommended the mini-splits. Shirley Waste. Frozen dinners. Cool nights. Rain and snow on the way. Ruth and her first homecoming. Max. Claire and Patrick, his mom and dad. Paul and Sarah, grandpop and grandma. Kate, aunt.

    Sparks of joy and awe: Writing. Michaelmas. Tom and Roxann, anniversary.

    Tarot:  Rebirth, #20 of the major arcana, Druid

     

    And so this day comes round at last. Michaelmas. The feast day of the Archangel Michael, defender of heaven, God’s most fierce warrior. Tom and Roxann celebrate their wedding anniversary on this day, usually on the North Shore, sometimes with a cooked goose. Jen, mother of Ruth and Gabe, celebrates her birthday. And Rudolf Steiner thought of this day as the springtime of the soul.

    I feel, different. Better. Almost like having awakened. Not woke in the social justice sense, but in the, oh this is what my soul needs to do next sense. Seems like the Tarot and my chart reading with Elisa on Monday and my own feeling that Michaelmas could be the date for a life transition have synched up, said YES.

    Delacroix Eugene: St Michael Defeats the Devil

    I’ve got a few things underway: house staining starting tomorrow and the mini-splits install beginning next Thursday. My Tree of Life Spread class starts on Saturday. I meet with Kristie on Friday. PSA at 1.0. Not quite low enough. Perhaps a kidney issue in the bloodwork panel. We’ll see. Started a new painting. Changed my days, I hope permanently. Looking forward to the Woolly Retreat at the end of this month.

    The loft’s organization makes sense now. Not cluttered. Some more work to do. Still pruning downstairs. Wanting to get further along before snow. Not quite sure how to manage that. But, I’ll figure it out. Back at my workouts and feeling better physically.

    Devil and
    Tom Walker

    Here’s something I got from Elisa on Monday. “I’m a reconstructionist. Just not a Jewish reconstructionist. I’m an MOT (member of the tribe) of Congregation Beth Evergreen and Jamie is my Rabbi.” “Oh,” Elisa’s face lit up in a big smile, “That’s such an Aquarian thing to do. To be in but not of something. And you may decide later that that’s over for you.” “Yes. When I met Kate, I had known for a year or more that I had to leave the ministry. It was over.”

    Since September 23rd, I have drawn the Lady, #3 of the Major Arcana, three times, The Moon, #18, and, today, on Michaelmas, Rebirth, #20. In the last 8 days I’ve drawn 5 Major Arcana. The Lady and the Moon both point toward the anima and the inner world, living into the feminine creative energy, my Yin chi. The rebirth card. Well, that’s another matter and it came on Michaelmas. I consider that more than significant. It’s a clear message.

    According to the Druid Craft Book, the message is: “You hear the call and awaken to the new light of day. You have entered the darkness and drunk of the cup of silence. You have chosen life and emerge reborn.”

    Meaning: “The Power of the Call. You may have heard the call of the spiritual path you are seeking. Rebirth into a life that is more fully your own. You may have come to a crossroads in your life, and a decision is required that will take you in a new direction.”

    Life has given me no choice. Change or retreat. Grief forces the soul to reconsider its location, its direction, its purpose. Yes, even its calling. I count my grief as having begun on September 28th, 2018, three years ago yesterday. That was the day of Kate’s bleed. The acceleration of her decline.

    From that day forward my life had as its everyday anchor Kate’s medical and emotional and spiritual needs. Not that I could fulfill them all, no, but her gradual physical diminishment meant no day could pass without considering them.

    I took her hand that day, September 28th, and never let go until April 12th of this year. The letting go was so painful, so shocking. Disorienting. Even disfiguring my soul. Nothing abnormal. Mourning. Then, grief and its labyrinth.

    It was as Dante said.

                                                                   

            IN the midway of this our mortal life,
    I found me in a gloomy wood, astray
    Gone from the path direct: and e’en to tell
    It were no easy task, how savage wild
    That forest, how robust and rough its growth,
    Which to remember only, my dismay
    Renews, in bitterness not far from death.

     

    Those caregiving years were not hell. Kate, my love and my soulmate, was still alive; but, they did hold suffering and torture for both of us. When she took that long, last ride, I climbed the mammoth frozen body of the Devil into purgatory. I’m still there, but I can see the sky above me.

    Today I identify with the curly haired boy standing at the exit of an elaborate dolmen. A priest, a Druid perhaps, sounds a trumpet of relief. The journey through the Inferno is complete. Purgatory lies almost behind.

    I can feel the hesitancy in him. The darkness, the strangeness of purgatory still more familiar. The long, long path from that dark Wood more known than what lies ahead.

    Symbols of eternal life, of rebirth, like the Holly and the Mistletoe and the Hare and the triskelion crowd the picture below him.

    Will he step out of the door? Embrace the Hare. I know he wants to. The energy and promise, the possibility of life renewed, remade, reimagined, reconstructed only just ahead.

    He feels, as I do, an expansion in my chest, a lifting of the head, eyes no longer cast down, or around in a worried scan. That feeling, that alone, can propel him out into the sun.

    Let it be so. For him. And, for me.

    St. Michael and the Devil, 16th century Book of Hours