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  • Cold leaving. Slowly. My thoughts on teen mental illness

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

    One of my favorites of her

    Monday gratefuls: Snow. Three inches or so. Cooler after heat. Cold on the wane. Stuffy still. A do nothing Sunday. Talk with the Ancient Bros about sex. Nap. Watch TV. Eat See’s candy. Shadow Mountain cold cure. Love the Snow’s fire suppression. I also liked the heat last week. Not the 75 down the hill, but the mid to high 60’s up here. Acting class starting next week. Evergreen Players. Barry on HBO.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Recovering from a cold

     

    From the new dining room, The Sewing Room. Today

     

    Oh. I’ve become so cautious. Covid. Suppressed immune system. Introversion. Downright timid. Not in love with this side of myself right now. I think. Travel! Then, I think t.r.a.v.e.l. with a pause and a wonder at each period. Money. Time away from my own bed. Meds. Kep with somebody else. What if I get sick? Oh. I don’t like this.

    Might be feeling it more while still in the grips of this damned cold. Not back yet. A longer recovery period than I recall. Certainly longer than I want.

    It’s been so long since I’ve been sick. I remember the last time. February 2019. Here’s my summary of it from back then: “…had an influenza strength virus for ten days, then I really got sick.” This cold. Mild. That one. Whatever it was. I got down 138 pounds. Kate was in the hospital part of the time. A miserable, miserable month. Immune system, even if not being all it can be, still has oomph.

    Loved seeing Ode’s bright blue SUV heading off toward Santa Fe on 285. I could feel his excitement at being on the road again. My friend. Stirred those same yearnings for me. Right now. Not sure I want to go out to lunch with Luke today.

    A rebound, yes? There’s a rebound after recovering from a cold if I recall? Hope so. I could use a rebound.

     

    Aside from illness and timidity. Snow. Rat Zappers arrived. Haven’t assembled them yet. They had that odd phrase on their boxes: humanely kill. That’s an oxymoron, right? Sure, it means without cruelty. That’s good. No vice grips on the testicles. Or gouged out eyes. However. Still dead.

    Gonna use them. That part about stripped electrical wiring. Diane’s a sensible woman. Besides burning down my house could burn down the neighborhood. The town. So there’s that. Seoah and Diane were shoulder-to-shoulder on the mice.

     

    Ruth and Cord at Sushi Den

    Been reading about the epidemic of teenage mental illness. There’s an NYT series. Here’s a link to part of it. Have been reading it with interest. Ruth’s recent voluntary stint in the psych hospital underlining it for me. Close to home.

    Of course there are various causes proposed, but no one seems to know for sure. Social media. Less sleep. Less exercise. Less time with friends. The article features teens from Minnesota, one of whom did commit suicide.

    I have a thought here. I haven’t checked it out with Ruth, but I intend to.

    We had a birthday party for Gabe last Thursday. He got presents. We sang him a silly Happy Birthday. He was happy. We had a birthday party for Ruth three weeks ago. She and Cord were a teenage couple. Learning the ropes of boygirl land. It was a sweet evening, we all had a good time.

    This all seems normal. But these kids are not hitting their teen years in normal time. Covid might be the least abnormal part of it. It disrupted their schooling, keeping them at home and on screen for months at a time. It interfered with their social life. A lot. And don’t forget they waited longer than anyone for the vaccinations. This would raise, as Kate might say, their anxiety titer. Quite a bit. So it might be the least of the abnormalities, but it’s far from trivial.

    Trump and the rise of populist politics around the world creates a serious frisson for teens entering the years of identity formation, sexual exploration. Especially with gender fluidity yet another turn of the screw during an already perplexing time. Might the far right win more elections and trample all over teens? It’s happening already. Don’t say gay. Many legislatures passing anti-trans legislation.

    School shootings. School shooting drills. Everywhere, not just Colorado. Gun violence common. Even at malls where teens used to congregate. How would you like to have to go to a place every day where you fear being shot?

    Looming over all these though is the Big One. Climate change. For those of us in our seventies climate change will not push the needle over into the red zone. Yes. The Miami condos. Yes, more wildfires. Highest temps. Day and night. The beginning of climate refugees. We’ll not live to see the red zone.

    But these teenagers will. Think they don’t know that? Think they don’t know that all the time we’re giving the usual counsel about college, and majors, and careers, and driving, and dating? We’re giving them the counsel of our past. Which will not be their future. They’re going to live into a world of difference, unpleasant difference. Not all the unpleasantness identified either.

    I remember R.D. Laing who said adjusting to an insane world is the true insanity. I hope their dis-ease says they are not ready to go down without a fight.


    Coronavirus Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Shadow Mountain Travel Weather +Climate

  • Kavanah

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and the waning sliver of Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Snow. Cooler. Cytopoint. Syringes. Home injections. Orgovyx. Erleada. Levothyroxine. Life. Living it. Well. Eudaimonia. Taoism. Travel. Short trips. Long trips. Boredom. Organization. Dullness. Joy. Chicken pot pies. Art. Music. David Sanders. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Gertie. Vega. The Colorado dogs. With Kep. Who yet lives.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Max. The baby. Growing. Sitting up on his own. Go, Max. Go, Kate.

     

    The days of our lives are sand in an hourglass. Do they still make soap operas? Is there still day time TV? I cut the cord so long ago that I have no idea. TV news is an oxymoron. Infotainment is not a thing. It’s a distortion of what the news was meant to be. The strait jacket of a show at one time. Escaped. Death by a thousand channels, most of them unwatchable? Escaped.

    If sports were your thing, cutting the cord would have been difficult. I get that. But I was a Vikings fan. The football equivalent of a Cubs fan before they broke away from their apparent destiny. Didn’t miss it. Especially now in Colorado.

    Movies. Yes. Series dramas. Yes. Comedy. Yes. Content from all over the world. Yes. With Netflix, Amazon Video, and HBO Max I’m happy. Maybe a bit too happy. The amount of good, even great content, has grown so fast.

    Kingdom

    The Koreans have given us dramas in a new tone, more human, less formulaic. Then there are the history based series like the Vikings, the Last Kingdom, Qin Empire: The Alliance, Resurrection: Ertugrul. Science fiction.

    First run movies. Caches of old movies. HBO Max provides access to the Turner Classic Movies archive as well as Studio Ghibli. And the occasional Criterion flick.

    All you have to day is pony up some cash, sit your butt in the chair, find that remote, and you’re off to the Warring States Period, the rise of the Ottoman Empire, Space Force, anime. Spirited Away. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I love it.

    The shame comes in when I admit how much I’ve been loving it. More than I need. Less than I want. Not sure how to balance this as part of my day. I’ve made advances. I’ve taken back reading time from the TV.

    Now that my energy has improved, I see the trap the weariness had snapped around me. Oh, I’m too tired. But, I can watch TV. Covid played a role here, too. And Kate’s long illness. However those are dropping away, have dropped away.

    Intentional. Kavanah. What’s your intention? A Jewish idea that informs prayer. You’re not supposed to pray without intention. No formulary, rote prayer. Know what you mean to do with your prayer.

    Kavanah. Our hours need kavanah. My hours, the late afternoon hours, need kavanah. I’ve allowed myself to get into a rut. Intention can lift me out of it.

    Working on it. Boredom helps. Energy helps. The coming of Spring helps. I can do this.

    What will help most are two things: 1. finishing the kitchen, common room, my level refurbish, remodel, redecorate. 2. finishing my work with David Sanders, turning the ship of my life toward a new destination without losing the gifts I have in it right now.

    A slow process. Grief. For me at least. But, a needed process. Letting go of Kate yet keeping her close. Difficult inner work.

    Will be doing more of all this today. And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow hopefully not to the last syllable of recorded time.


    Cinema and Television Colorado Coronavirus Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Judaism Shadow Mountain The Move Weather +Climate

  • the moment when change is possible

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the Moon of Seoah’s Citizenship

    Babar on Dick Cavett, Jon Olson, Spark Gallery

    Sunday gratefuls: Jon. Spark Gallery. Tom Liker. His paintings. Santa Fe Art District in Denver. Rocky Yama Sushi. Rabbi Jamie. Divorcing. Luke. The Mussar group. MVP. Snow. Cold. The Ancient Brothers. David Sanders. Kep. Ukraine. Zelensky. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Kristine. Kristie. Erleada. Orgovyx. Prostate cancer. Deer Creek Canyon. Living with, living in spite of, living into. Living.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rabbi Jamie

    Tarot: Two of Vessels, Attraction

     

    Accent acute. Accent grave. The cedilla. Diacritical markings. “The word diacritic is a derivative of Greek diakritikos, meaning “separative” or “able to distinguish,” which is based on the prefix dia-, meaning “through” or “across,” and the verb krinein, “to separate.”” Merriam-Webster

    Kairos. Another Greek word. This one often used in theology, there translated as crisis. This from wikipedia: ‘the right, critical, or opportune moment’. In modern Greek, kairos also means ‘weather’. It is one of two words that the ancient Greeks had for ‘time’; the other being chronos. Another translation: the moment when change is possible.

    We have lived for this whole millennium in interesting times. Since 9/11/2001. That was the first and so far most impactful inflection point. It is easy to separate, to distinguish between the pre-9/11 world and its aftermath in which we still live.

    It was a kairos moment, a moment when change was possible, and we chose, through the dark machinations of Rumsfeld, Cheney, Wolfowitz, and their likable stooge, George Bush, Osama Bin Laden’s exact goal: an asymmetrical war considered a holy war, or. better, an unholy war against Muslim’s who co-opted the idea of jihad.

    We were in the right; they were in the wrong. Let’s go get’em! Now 21 years later the wreckage of our intervention has left smoking ruins in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, and to a lesser extent in Lebanon and Palestine. We’ve spent lives, a trillion dollars or two, but who’s counting, and our reputation as a beacon of liberty. Coming well after another stupid war, the Vietnamese War, these twenty one years have eroded the idea of democracy and helped fuel the rise of oligarchs and autocrats.

    Kairos II. A macro problem, let’s call it. Because the next big shock was microscopic, a virus. Can’t even see the damned thing. We’re still not done with it, may never be done with it, and millions have died world wide. We’ve holed up in our houses, become afraid of our neighbors and friends, let alone the maskless vigilantes who so badly misunderstand liberty that they’re dying by the thousands without needing to.

    Kairos III. Sorta in the middle of all this, what?, horror? George Floyd. In my former home town, Minneapolis. The San Francisco of the Wheat Belt, a progressive’s dream city if there ever was one. Black Lives Matter. Riots and protests. All over the world. Where did we put that beacon anyhow?

    Of course riding high above all this was Kairo Prime of our time, climate change. Super wildfires. Ocean rise. Tumbling condos. Jacked up hurricanes and tornadoes. Changing weather patterns. A lot of record warmth. Uneven rains, 800 year droughts. Geez.

    We got a lot going on here as I head into my 75th year. Three quarters of a century and I’ve never seen any time like these last twenty. Even the Vietnam War and the movement seem preparatory, not diacritical as I once thought.

    And I have grandchildren. Who have to live into this world we’ve birthed. Yes, none of this had to happen. But cooler heads did not prevail and we got global warming. Peaceniks failed and we got forever wars. The civil rights era came up short and we got George Floyd, Trayon Martin, Ahmaud Arberry. How do I sit down with Ruth and Gabe and say sorry?

    I really, really don’t know. Yes, of course love. Yes, of course compassion. Yes, of course justice. Knowing this from the jump doesn’t seem to have saved me from implication as a failure in every kairotic moment, every event diacritically identified here.

    And, I’m tired. Not sure I have the eagerness or the energy necessary for another fight. Without a fight how can I hope to live with myself in my last quarter century? Or so.

    Yet. Joy. Patience. Loving kindness. Honor. Holiness. Also necessary. Perhaps I can evoke, provoke those? Keep tossing virtues into the collective until something catches fire? I don’t know and I don’t pretend to know.

    I do know that I cannot be silent, nor complicit. The chief sins of our age.

     


    Aging Coronavirus Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Judaism Politics Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant. Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • A Master Class. Kitchen. Erleada. Ruth.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon

    Today -4 6:45 am

    Thursday gratefuls: That below zero crunch in the Snow. Minnesota. Abraham Lincoln. Rich. Judy. Marilyn. Tom. Irv. Fresh Snow beauty on Black Mountain. On the Lodgepoles. On the Hermitage. Master Class in Black History. Back to reading. Loading coffee cups in the new shelving. Figuring out how to use the Speed Brew Bunn. (for high altitude)

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Money

    Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the Major Arcana

     

    Loaded coffee cups into the pantry cabinets, smaller than the old ones, but probably better this way. While feeding the dogs. I’m getting underway. More this morning.

    Vince came to plow the driveway. He has a six wheel ATV. An odd-looking thing. But powerful. He did a great job, including eliminating the small ridge of snow in front of the front door that both Josh and Ted left. I think Vince is a find. He also does landscaping.

    Connected with Ruth yesterday. She’s in the Denver Springs psych hospital. Voluntarily. She sounded good. Joking, asking me to give Rigel and Kep a hug for her. She wants, really wants, to get her psyche calmed down. I hope she’s able to do that. I love her so much and it makes me hurt to see her in trouble.

    The ? Room

    Decided I’ll schedule the Modern Bungalow delivery for my birthday. A way to celebrate with a major change in the front room. I don’t know what to call that room. Great room sounds pretentious. Living room doesn’t feel right. It has a breakfast nook and a fire place. The area around the fire place is a separate space. I don’t know. Any ideas out there?

    a repeat. but apt.

    Been watching a Master Class in Black History on Amazon Prime. It’s excellent. I got to know Cornel West a bit at the 1974 Liberation Theology Conference in Detroit. I also met Angela Davis when I worked on the West Bank. There were a few members of the communist party who lived on the West Bank and were active in neighborhood politics. I can’t remember the couples name right now, but they held a do for Angela and invited me. This would have been in the mid-1980’s. Very much worth watching.

    BTW: I agree with everything I’ve heard so far on the program. Knew some, but also learned a lot.

    Felt a sag in my excitement about the new kitchen as I start to reorganize it. Realized it was the midday blues. Gonna get back to exercising, starting today. Better energy when I work out. Was gonna go to On the Move Fitness, but wrote Deb a note and said, “I’ve got the Omicron jitters. Let’s schedule a zoom session.” Probably over cautious. But. I’m not now, nor have I been sick for the last two years. In less you count prostate cancer, of course.

    The Erleada, which I’ve been taking for 6 days now, did drop my energy level at first but that seems to have waned. Also a few hot flashes. Not bad. Not good. Oddly, just as I typed Erleada, the phone rang. McKesson Biologic Pharmacy. They’re the folks that handle my Orgovyx script, too. Kind and competent. My favorite combination.

    And, ta dah! $10 a month rather than $3,000 or $650.

    -30-

     

     


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  • Land, Sea, and Sky

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Yule and the Moon of the New Year

    Where’s the Webb? 99.79% to L2 at 8 am MST. 1900 miles to go. Mission Day 30. Speed now: 450 mph.

    Next

    “L2 Insertion Burn

    Mid Course Correction Burn (MCC2) – Begins L2 Insertion

    Nominal Event Time: Updated: Launch + 30 days

    Status: Schedule and Post MCC2 Coverage

    Activities to plan and execute MCC2 – the insertion burn for Webb’s L2 orbit. MCC2 corrects any residual trajectory errors and adjusts the final L2 orbit.

    The James Webb Space Telescope is launched on a direct path to an orbit around the second Sun-Earth Lagrange Point (L2), but it needs to make its own mid-course thrust correction maneuvers to get there. This is by design, because if Webb gets too much thrust from the Ariane rocket, it can’t turn around to thrust back toward Earth because that would directly expose its telescope optics and structure to the Sun, overheating them and aborting the science mission before it can even begin. Therefore, Webb gets an intentional slight under-burn from the Ariane and uses its own small thrusters and on-board propellant to make up the difference.

    There are three mid-course correction (MCC) maneuvers: MCC-1a, MCC-1b, and MCC-2. This final burn, MCC-2, which inserts Webb into its L2 halo orbit.” NASA.

     

    Monday gratefuls: Marina Harris and her cleaning crew. Alan’s recovery from Covid. His role in the Colorado Ballet. The Ancient Brothers Ode to Joy this morning. Ali Baba’s gyros. Cancer. Prostate and otherwise. Rigel and her meds. January. Winter in its fullness in Minnesota. Colorado has cold December and snowy February, March, April.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Love

    Tarot: will require its own post.

     

    This damned event keeps getting new legs, fresh legs. In history the U.S. response to Covid will confound future generations. Why didn’t they take it seriously? Even after so many dead. So many hospitalized. So many left with lingering troubles.

    Not to mention of course the number of the unmasked, unvaccinated who want to take over the government. I’ve become news shy. Like many of you, I know. Who wants to read about the brutal murder of Caesar or the Beer Hall Putsch? That is dangerous, of course. It is the uninformed and the passive who underwrite with their absence the fevered path of the few.

    There is a small herd of Mule Deer Does who’ve been coming up the utility easement to eat needles off slash Derek dumped there. When they’re here, the scene becomes instant backwoods. An over the river and through the woods tableau. They’re here right now. The Buck, an eight-pointer, was here this morning. Neither Kep nor Rigel paid attention. Just as well. A chance encounter between a Dog and a Buck can result in injury or death for the doggy.

    Kep noticed them. He walked through Snow, looked. Gave a short yip and came toward the house. The Deer munched Pine Needles, secure on the other side of our fence. Kep came in.

    Rigel has begun to hesitate to walk up the five stairs to the kitchen level. She’s fallen, slid several times and she has the new meds on board. They’re supposed to help, but it appears to me that they’re making her feel strange. Doesn’t help confidence.

    With Rigel’s legs and arthritis and spinal owies becoming more evident. With Kep’s nose undergoing x-rays and possible biopsy on Tuesday it looks like my companions may have rough water ahead. Since they are my grief counselors, sleeping partners, and the biggest part of my interaction with the living world, their troubles are very much my troubles. I’m not getting ahead of anything. Just aware that they, like Kate, like me, are mortal creatures. Like Abraham Lincoln.

    Simcah Torah, Congregation Beth Evergreen. 2021

    Thinking about donating money. What it means. How I decide. Most of my donations go to Congregation Beth Evergreen. There I’m saying yes to community, yes to friends, yes to thousands of years of history, yes to a religious culture cultivated by this unusual gathering. I don’t feel like I’m supporting the church. I’m supporting the chemistry of a place that accepts me and loves me as I am.

    Otherwise I give a bit here, a bit there. Some to Dog shelters, some to performing arts organizations, some to politicians and some to political organizations.

    Deciding that next year and thereafter I’m going to focus my giving beyond CBE in a different way. My largest non-CBE donation was to the Land Institute where Wes Jackson and his crew push toward perennial Crops and no-till agriculture. I’m gonna lean toward these radical solution organizations, ones working with the Soil, with Plants, with agriculture. I value the courage it takes to stand against farming practices that seem so entrenched as to be unmovable. And I value the creative thinking that the Wendell Berry’s, the Mary Oliver’s, the Aldo Leopold’s, the Thomas Berry’s, the Wes Jackson’s represent.

    So this year. CBE and those working on long-term, universally applicable solutions to systemic problems in agriculture and protection of our World: Land, Sea, and Sky.


    Coronavirus Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Garden Great Wheel Great Work Health Judaism Mountains permaculture Plants Politics Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Not down far enough. Yet.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Yule and the crescent Winter Solstice Moon

    Where is the Webb? Slowwwing. .4987 miles per second. 398000 miles from Earth, 500100 miles to L2. 5 days into mission.

    @willworthingtonart

    Thursday gratefuls: PSA lower, not undetectable. Prostate cancer. Cold night. Slept in till 7:30. Ode’s quote from Nerburne. Ode and Elizabeth battling the spiked one. Mary, teaching at UW next semester. Kep, staring at me, wanting part of my burrito. Big Snows in the higher country. Better Snowpack numbers. 2022 close by. Waiting. 2021, after so very much kvetching, will not be sad to go.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow flurries in the Sky right now.

    Tarot: The Moon on the Water, #18 of the Major Arcana

     

    The Moon on the Water

    “The Moon on Water heralds the moment of inner and cognitive transformation. The transformation can hide in a seemingly random situation in human minds and emotions. However, there’s a voice that has been whispering in you about this for a long time. Now, your soul is bringing the core symbols of the human subconscious into the real world. More specifically, it can occur in the form of a desire to investigate or study an ideological, philosophical, or spiritual pursuit.”

    Wildwood book

    Charlie 3rd grade

    A new year coming. I doubt anybody will say 2022 has got to be better than 2021. After having said the same about 2021. Not hearing it from me either. Although I very much want to say it. And, believe it.

    I’m taking the last two days of this wretched year with the Moon on the Water. Whatever happens in the outer, spiky world we can find our way to the Peat Bog, Marsh Grasses punctuating the egg shaped Moon on the Water. An Aurochs silhouetted against the full Moon, above him a Heron in flight. This is primal, the place where imagination and thought swim in the rich Waters of our inner Holy Well.

    Provided we sit quietly, allow the Waters to gush up from the collective unconscious, we will find traction even in a hostile outer world. We have the resources within us and within the interconnectedness that hammocks us. We only need wait till they rise.

     

    orgovyx

    Got my lab results. PSA down from 1.0 to .20. Still not all the way down. Curious what the docs think of this. Said last time I might get yet another med. Likely, I think.

    Disappointed. Looking for a boost with undetectable. Nope. Better, but not where it needs to be.

     

     

     


    Coronavirus Health Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Pandamndemic

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Thursday gratefuls: Pruning. Proceeding. Pantry in use now. Picked a sink. Induction range and cookware. First heat. Friday. Kitchen remodel getting legs. Cold nights. Pandamndemic. Prostate cancer. HIIT. Good workout yesterday. Giving stuff away. Pots and pans. The stove. Money.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Sun, another day

    Tarot:       The High Priest, #5 of the major arcana, Druid Craft

     

    Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls Museum of Art

    Pandamndemic. Creeping horror coming to your state the week of Halloween. Delta variant dawning. And twilighting. And causing pressure on health care, body counts, hope for a mask free end of the year. I find my own resistance to the masks, to caution challenged.

    I just wanna be free! Damn it. Me and roughly however many billion of us have been dealing with this damned thing for well over a year and a half. Feels like this gray pall draped over every encounter outside of home. The hearing issues with it make me want even more time alone.

    Then there’s the Build Back Better plan. How’s that going? I’m for putting McConnel and Manchin in a chain link box. Let a 3 round MMA bout settle which one’s the bigger impediment to a decent future. Winner gets a free disruption of the people’s business, no explanation required.

    What? They already have that? Are doing that? Oh, I see. Well then. Let’s put them in a chain link box and tether them, Andromeda style, to a condo sitting on Miami’s disappearing beach front. Now wait. That could encourage climate action. Couldn’t it?

    Between Covid and the Congress, between Covid and the weak-kneed White House, I find life outside the wonderful world here atop Shadow Mountain often dismal, rarely joyful. And. I. Don’t. Like. It.

    Yeah. So what, you say. Suck it up buttercup. Nope. Not gonna do that. And, I wanted to have my minute. There it’s over. Back to business as masked.

    Leading mussar today since Carole had a wreck. In hospital with a cracked sternum. Ouch. Meals for her for a couple of weeks. Glad. I get to return the favor.

    Topic in mussar today. Judgement. Of others. The Perkei Avot says Jewish tradition instructs us that when we judge another person, we are to put their misdeeds on one side of a scale and their virtues on the other side of the scale. If the scales are balanced, then we should tip them towards merit.

    And, ourselves. “The Talmud says that we should always judge other people favorably. We must also judge ourselves favorably”. (R. Nachman of Breslav)

    Odd that in Christianity, which says judge not, the tendency is to judge harshly, while in Judaism, which sees judging others and ourselves as both inevitable and necessary, the remonstrance is to judge others favorably.

    Reb Nachman puts another flaw in the ointment. We must also judge ourselves favorably. Whoa. That’s a hard one, eh?

    I’m guilty of judging others harshly, of weighing what I perceive to be misdeeds or character flaws as tainting the whole person. I suppose you could call this cancel culture. Make one misstep and you not only get judged, you get ostracized from polite society.

    “Machrio L’Chaf Zechut translates as “influencing others to virtue,” or “judging others favorably.” Machrio comes from the root chaf-reish-ayin and means “to bend.” L’chaf zechut means “to a scale of merit.” This is the middot associated with judgement.  Reform Judaism

    This one goes on my spiritual curriculum. A spiritual curriculum according to mussar has on its syllabus character traits where we often fall short and those that we have, but need to reinforce.

    This sort of work is actually High Priest work. “Tradition and guidance. Formal knowledge, education and academic establishments. A need to conform to orthodox ideas and conventional approaches. The significance of a teacher or mentor.” The message: “There is a value in discipline and routine to maintain the connection between your worldly and spiritual life.”  Druid Craft Book.


    Art and Culture Cooking Coronavirus Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mussar Our Land and Home Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • A Good Day

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Lady, Druid Deck, #3

    Tuesday gratefuls: Elisa Robyn. My natal chart. Her disquisition. Astrology. Tarot. Kabbalah. periMOT me. Opening myself. Quest labs. Results soon. Flu vaccine. Booster Covid vaccine. Workout in the afternoon. Me caring for me. Second thoughts on the kitchen remodel. We’ll see. Have notified Coyote HVAC that I want to go ahead with the mini-splits. Greg Lell coming Thursday to stain the house.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: My Northern Node.

    Tarot: The Lady, #3 in the major arcana

     

    Dante’s Inferno, Canto I

    A good day yesterday. Down the hill. Lakewood Safeway. Quest Labs. Safeway pharmacy. Lab tests blood draw. Four tubes. Asked the phlebotomist if he was gonna leave enough to drive home on. I could tell by his reaction I wasn’t the first to ask. I’m beginning to get familiar with Quest Labs.

    I had to wait for a half an hour for the pharmacist to finish opening the pharmacy. Then, a jab in the left arm and a jab in the right. Vaccinated. Third time for Covid. Manyeth time for the Flu. Might wear a mask out this year. Flu’s no joke either.

    Drove back up the hill. Stopped at Wendy’s for breakfast. A treat to me for being a good boy. Love their potato fries. Therefore I rarely stop there.

    Back home I ate, finished up some tasks on the computer. Including my third consecutive call to Social Security, Lakewood. It became my third consecutive call to timeout in their system. Maddening. An armed security officer prevents entrance to the Social Security building in Lakewood. I can’t get to them by phone. WTF!

    Took a nap, then got up and exercised. Decided I may go back to the afternoon workout time. I worked out at 3:30/4:00 pm the whole time we were in Andover. Makes my day work better. Can’t recall now why I stopped. Probably heat in the unairconditioned loft.

    Why I decided to go ahead with the mini-splits. They will make the loft available for afternoon workouts and the house safe for me during allergy season. Not to mention cool. The mini-splits also do some heating. Might solve my upstairs winter heating issues.

    But. That raises a money question. Can I afford both the mini-splits and a remodeled kitchen? Don’t even know how to answer the question. But, I’m gonna check with RJ. Maybe.

    The Social Security kerfuffle means I may have to go to plan B to pay Greg Lell for the house staining. I’ve counted on the back Social Security payments, from April, but I’m sure having trouble jiggling them loose. They’ll come eventually. Good thing I have a plan B. And, btw, a plan C.

    After my workout was my Zoom session with Elisa Robyn, reacquainting me with my natal chart, explaining its significance and showing me how to synch it with a chart for yesterday. More on this later. It was exciting and overwhelming.

    Merging Tarot, Kabbalah, and Astrology. Strange ground for me, but here I go.

     


    Astrology Coronavirus Feelings Fourth Phase Great Wheel Health Kabbalah Our Land and Home Painting Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • A Busy Week

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Michaelmas Moon

    Monday gratefuls: Quest lab. Blood draw. PSA. Testosterone. Metabolic panel. CBC. Safeway pharmacy: flu and third Covid push. Down the hill in Lakewood. Closest. Albuterol. Frozen dinners. HVAC, mini-splits. Going ahead. House staining. Starts Wednesday. Bear Creek Design on Thursday. Painting.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Universe. Ohr.

    Tarot:   The Moon, #18 in the major arcana

     

    First blood draw on Orgovyx. A month into the prescription. Blood sugar and triglycerides can both go up. Putting the dipstick in the PSA reservoir, too. And, logically, my testosterone level. I have a, let’s get this blood work done early in the day sorta thing. Expresses my willingness to stay on top of the predatory invasion, stay ahead of it. And to know what’s really going on.

    A bit nervous though not as much as the first time after I finished radiation. Thought, hoped, for a cure then. Not so now. Surveillance, making sure the cancer doesn’t break out of the starvation prison we’re putting it in.

    Gonna hit the Safeway Pharmacy, too. Quest labs has an office in the Lakewood Safeway. There I’ll get, I hope, a flu shot and my third Pfizer push. Doing what I can to stay alive.

    Which I appreciate. That I’m doing those kinda things. Means I’m rolling along with a desire to be here. What I want.

    Quite the week. A chart reading by Elisa Robyn. My CBE astrologer. May take a class with her from Kabbalah Experience. Astrology and the Tarot. Blue Mountain Kitchens to choose kitchen cabinets, counter top, backsplash. Tuesday. Wednesday house staining begins. Thursday Bear Creek Design come out for a kitchen redesign session. Mussar that day, too, and coffee with David, my fellow advanced prostate cancer guy from CBE. After at the Muddy Buck. Alan for lunch on Friday, then Kristie, my oncologists P.A., at 2:30 that day. But wait! There’s more. On Saturday a memorial service for my personal trainer who died of glioblastoma in June of 2020. The first class of my Gates of Light Tree of Life spread course with Mark Horn. Later in the afternoon, Jackie for a hair cut. Whew.

    The next week is calmer.

    Picked the Moon, #18 of the major arcana, again. Deep into feminine mysteries. My anima poked once more.

    Ta. Off for Quest Labs.

     


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  • Post Covid. Or, not?

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Rebecca of Conifer P.T. Stretches. New exercises. Shirley Septic Trash. Goodbye Mountain Waste. Bread Lounge Sourdough bread. Evergreen farmer’s market. Grant Property Medics. Money. Ruby. Kepler and Rigel.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Good bread.

     

    Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls  Institute of Art

    Post-pandemic life. For those with vaccines. In countries where vaccines exist in large numbers. Getting back to it. Mussar without masks. Dinner at a friend’s sans masque. Going into the grocery store. Talking with Eduardo yesterday evening. Feeling good.

    Not really post-pandemic though. The Delta Variant (a movie thriller title?) will chew through red states where enforced ignorance has replaced any need for public policy. Just say no to the 2020 election results. Support your local klan.

    Ignorance of the law, the laws of epidemiology in this instance, will not be an excuse when the virus comes to call. Sickness and death will follow. A sad story in the Washington Post a couple of days ago about nurses in Appalachian critical care units. Patients dying of covid saying it was the flu. Their families devastated, not sure what happened. The nurses standing in grocery store lines hearing people joke about the hoax of covid. Unmasked. A woman quoted in the article saying that it was public knowledge covid was really a way for doctors and hospitals to make more money.

    And those countries that can’t afford the vaccines. Poor India. A quote from today’s New York Times:

    “Another wave of the pandemic is hitting many parts of the world, with countries in Asia, Africa and Latin America experiencing their highest caseloads, driven in part by the highly contagious Delta variant of the virus.”

    No. It may seem like a post-pandemic world for those of us with our filled out vaccines cards and the Pfizer or Moderna or Johnson and Johnson shots ramping up our immune responses, but we’re experiencing a privilege of the developed world. Of course, 45 did try to match our treatment of the virus to the worst places in the world: Brazil, India, South Africa, Chile, Mongolia. An election intervened and a determined 46 has put us in a much better place. Thank him and mRna.

    Intersectionality. Often the study of race, class, and gender bias as they interweave. Covid’s intersections add another to the mix: the politicized anti-science response to the politicized pro-science response. With mask policies in retreat around the country the guidance is that those unvaccinated need to wear masks. The rest of us, the vaccinated, the saved, no.

    Does anybody believe those unvaccinated by choice will wear masks? I don’t. Which makes it hard to impossible to know who’s unmasked thanks to immune responses and those unmasked due to Trump induced brain trauma.

    An interesting graphic from the Economist suggests that being out of the house and shopping has edged close to pre-pandemic levels in a sample of 50 countries. On the other extreme attendance at sports events, flying, and movie going remain severely affected.

    We will never regain the old normal. A new normal, yes, but not the old one. What will change? Hard to know for sure but it’s clear the nature of work and where work happens will be one. Grieving families, nations will have to reorient themselves after great loss. Travel may change, too. Some believe business travel will never resume its former pace. mRna vaccines may provide a new frontier in the fight against viral illnesses, especially the seasonal flu.

    I want to know what you think. What will change, what will remain the same?

     


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