• Category Archives Hawai’i
  • Atta Van

    Imbolc and the Durango Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: CT and Bone Scan. Nuclear medicine. Kep. Susan Taylor. Tom. Durango. William. Paul. Ode. Quest labs. Blue Colorado Sky. Hawai’i. University of Hawai’i. Maona neighborhood. This silly real estate market. The January 6th committee. Real government. Earth spin. Sun seen. Sun gone. Back on Shadow Mountain.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Friends and Family

     

    Yesterday. Showed up at 8:30 am. Littleton Adventist. Jon as my driver, 2 ativans in a pill container. A curly headed guy in blue came to “nab me” and took me to the nuclear medicine lab.

    In the lab, which contained the control room and the gamma camera in the dark, he had a small table set-up with needles and a blue plastic cylinder with a twist off cap. Is that lead lined? Yes.

    His iv insertion was painless. Not the norm at all but appreciated. A little saline. Then he opened the blue cylinder and took out a syringe with a thimble full of clear liquid. That liquid went into the IV. More saline.

    I’ll have you back in 3 hours. Let me call CT. They can come get you now. I need to take my ativan. Which I did.

    About thirty minutes later Kristina came out in her blues and got me from the waiting room. I emptied my pockets, took off my light jacket, put my hat and fitbit on the table and hopped up on the sliding platform. Shoes on. Better than TSA.

    You’ve done this before? CT with contrast? I have. You remember it makes you feel warm? I do. It also makes you feel like you peed your pants. Disconcerting. I’ll tell you when you’re going to feel warm. OK.

    The sliding platform began to move. The CT scanner itself had two faces built in to a spot just at eye level, one calm with mouth open, the other with cheeks full and mouth closed. Take a deep breath, hold it. Cheeky face lights up. Breath. Calm face lights up. As the ativan began to kick in, this became more and more amusing.

    There. We’re done. Wow. Took about a minute.

    I’d been fasting so Kristina, who could see the ativan had done its work, offered to take me to the cafeteria. We walked along together through the corridors of Little Adventist. I could tell she was amused.

    I gave her a big smile when she left to go back to her machine.

    After a lengthy breakfast on the patio overlooking the Front Range, even medicine comes with a view in Colorado, I returned to the waiting room and played Wordle and the Spelling Bee. Took my second ativan.

    Curly headed guy came back at 11:45. The gamma ray camera was now in a lit room. I emptied my pockets again.

    The gamma ray camera comes within inches of your face. And stays there for awhile. Even with the ativan and closing my eyes I could feel it, pressing. No escape. Had to do soothing breathing. I had made a mistake that made it worse. The guy asked if I wanted a blanket and I said yes. It was heated. Heat makes my claustrophobia get worse. Ooops.

    Still. With the happy pills, closed eyes, and calming breathing techniques I managed to not lose it. This one takes 15-20 minutes.

    Relieved to be outta there. I can feel my relief as I write this.

    Jon drove me home. I think. Anyhow I ended up back home, happy and tired. Took a nap.

    The results were posted almost immediately on the Centura Health patient portal. I didn’t read them until later yesterday. As Kate said, the radiologists favorite plant is the hedge. I couldn’t tell much by reading them. Why we have doctors.

    I don’t think there’s anything new there. Which is the best news. Not certain. Because of that hedge. I’ll talk to Kristie on August 15th and get more information after she and Eigner have reviewed the reports.


  • Momentum

    Imbolc and the Durango Moon

    The Big Mo. 2021

    Monday gratefuls: Aerodynamics. Lift. Jet engines. Shrinking distances. The sweetness of family. Learning it in old age. Even sweeter. Kep. Home. Shadow Mountain. Evergreen. Ana and her coworker cleaning my house. Right now. Jet lag. Staying up as long as I can. Actual sleep on the plane! New for me. The idea of leaving Shadow Mountain. Landing in Honolulu.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Limbering up the mind for a new adventure

     

    Lililha Bakery, Ala Moana Mall

    Around 2 am Hawai’i time I was somewhere over CONUS. The Pacific in our rear view. The flight attendants had served a biscuit and coffee. Then turned the lights off again. I couldn’t read because it seemed too bright for my back to sleep seat mates. Chose to think.

    Realized that travel is the breaking of inertia. It is the liminal space between one form of inertia and another. Right then I was neither in Hawai’i or Colorado. I was up in the air. Literally.

    I had slept maybe 5 hours, in and out. But full awake then.

    It’s hard to change. Especially patterns or places of long standing. And, especially as we get older. Change gets more scary, seems to have more risks. Not sure it does. Just seems so.

    Kate and I took eight months to ramp up for the move to Colorado. And needed every day of it. Here’s the thing though. Once the idea got rooted Andover seemed over. Wonderful, special while it lasted. But over.

    I’m feeling the same way now. Driving home from the airport this morning it became clear to me that I’m tired of the hassles of home ownership. Car ownership. Ownership. This is independent of how I choose to solve the problem.

    I love Shadow Mountain as much or more than I did Andover. But without a partner to help with the necessary work of maintaining, sustaining a property, I’m ready to let it go. I can do it. Am doing it. Have done for the last year and four months. Really the last 4 years. Just don’t want the hassle anymore.

    Let somebody else call the plumber. Find the electrician. Think about the mortgage. Backing away from all this will take some time and I want it to. I want to slowly but carefully put away this American dream life and replace it with a life focused in other ways.

    Gonna spend at least six months testing the financial aspects. How much will I net if I sell the house for different amounts? How much will it really cost per month to live in Honolulu. Should I take my car or sell it? Use public transportation and rentals. Will entail some further time in Hawai’i visiting rental agents and rental properties. Looking at hidden costs. Potential hidden savings. How much will getting Shadow Mountain ready to sell take? That includes eliminating what I wouldn’t take with me. Most of the stuff I own. How much will it cost to move what’s left?

    Then there are the tough parts of leaving Colorado. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Beth Evergreen. Getting a chance to see more of this wonderful area before I leave.

    Many other details to be considered, fussed over. Medical matters. Legal changes. Maybe a round of visits to family here, friends.

    A project for the time between now and Ruth’s graduation. At least I think I’ll stay that long. When Kate and I chose to move here, we initially gave ourselves a couple of years but once the momentum took over, we got ready and moved in more like eight months.

    It’s that feeling that Shadow Mountains over. Then. Honolulu is now. That could push me faster than I’m thinking right now. Momentum is a big deal. We’ll see.


  • A visit to the oncologist

    Summer and the Aloha Moon

    art@willworthington

    Tuesday gratefuls: Kristie. Erleada. Orgovyx. Michelle, a real shot in the arm. Prolia. Prostate Cancer. Mortality. Colorado. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Kep. Today. Hiking. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Furball House Cleaning. Hawai’i. Alan. Technology. Zoom. This desktop. My laptop. Going with me. Flying over the Pacific. Korean. Duolingo.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Burning Bear Trail

    Tarot: Queen of Vessels, Salmon

    Questions-Where are you leaving yourself open or unguarded? What is enchanting you? What do you need to devote yourself to?  Wildwood Tarot Book, p. 112

     

    A visit to the oncologist. Geez, even now, 8 years in, sorta scares me. Or, especially now, 8 years in. Still. Good news. Undetectable PSA again. Twice in a row. Six months. Also, shot of Prolia, an osteoporosis fighting drug. I suppose a place I leave myself unguarded (see above) is to the side effects of these drugs. However, cue irony, they guard me against death by cancer. Complicated.

    Another bit of good news. No axumin scan. Apparently it only works when PSA is above 1.0. So surveillance this time is CT and Bone Scan. Probably cheaper.

    Kristie asked how I’m doing. For the most part, I said, fine. The Erleada side effects have calmed down. I get flushed once in a while. An occasional heating up, but no hot flashes for a month or so. The synthroid for my lackadaisical thyroid seems to have helped my energy level. On most days I don’t think about prostate cancer.

    Discussed the proctitis. She’s going to talk with the new radiation doc to see if he recommends anything.

    Kristie is a kind and compassionate woman. And, she likes me. Which means I get extra empathy from her. I met her right after Kate died.

    The Prolia shot hurt. A bit. Michelle showed me how much liquid she pushed into my arm. A lot. It stays there for six months, gradually releasing into the blood stream until the next shot.

    After my visit with Kristie I stopped at No-No’s for a Catfish P0′ Boy and some beignets. I like to treat myself after self-care. Still have not been to Pappa Deaux’s.

     

    Jon, Ruth, and Gabe came up just as I was leaving for my appointment. Jon finished mowing the yard, doing some weed whacking too. They cleaned up the back, took back the lawn furniture that belonged to him, as well as many of the brick paving stones. He left the paving stones and the lawn furniture when he moved in with us after the divorce.

    Ruth got a job at a Rocket Fizz candy shop. Her first. She’s on a new dose of meds and back to her normal beautiful happy self. Right now: black hair, pink pointed nails, and a brand new small nose piercing. It felt so good to see her feeling better.

    Gabe moved a bunch of branches to the front, away from the house. Some work left to do, but not much on cleaning up the back. Still not sure what I want to do there. If anything.

     

    Good workout day yesterday. Today Kep gets groomed at Award Winning Pet Grooming and I plan to hike the Burning Bear Trail that I couldn’t find two months ago. Think I can locate the trailhead this time. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my hiking days.

    Getting excited about Hawai’i. Miss those three to pieces. Oh, and beaches, sub-tropical flora and fauna. Great food.

     


  • Ikigai identified at last.

    Summer and the Aloha Moon

     

    June 17, 2015. Shadow Mountain

    Checked my postings about this Japanese idea. Nothing ever resolved since I learned about it several years ago. What gets you up in the morning? What gives your life coherence? “…ikigai is a concept that has been rooted in the cultural fabric of Japan for centuries and simply means, “reason to live.” ikigai.com

    After three empty days last week, days where I saw no one and learned the lesson of needing human contact again, I got to thinking about ikigai. What gets me up in the morning? What is my reason to live?

    Thought back on the life review I did with the Ancient Brothers a few weeks ago.  A little too heady: justice, love, writing, learning. Things like that. Not at the core.

    When I drove to Evergreen this morning, I focused on this question. Began to feel some urgency about it. Afternoons drag here without purpose. Makes me feel negligent, indulgent. Neither one a good German value. So there has to be something, right? A thread, a coming back to this sort of thing, more obvious when seen from the 8,800 feet view?

    June, 2019

    I think I found it. Here’s the phrase: Living well within and for nature. I could add a coda, seeking justice for all, but I think this phrase covers it. Living well equals the Greek idea of eudaimonia. So, another way of saying this: flourishing within and for nature. Goes back at least to that Garden Spider spinning its web on the kitchen window at 311 E. Monroe St., Alexandria, Indiana. My gentle mother and I engaged in wonder as the Spider spun its web, caught and cocooned its prey. Ate.

    Ever since, or at least since then, maybe age 8 or 9, I’ve been a close observer of the natural world. (And, yes, I know there’s a sense in which it’s all natural, even human artifice, but I choose the narrower, folk understanding.) When I finished college, I wanted to move to a place with Lakes and Pine Trees. With four Seasons, a real Winter, not the icy, slushy mess of an Indiana January. Jack London inspired me.

    So it was not, as I’ve always imagined when I considered a life purpose, college and the world of the mind that was my ikigai. No, that was an interesting and fun sidebar, but my life and my moves since then have involved getting closer and closer to the natural world on an everyday basis.

    Ushuaia, Argentina 2011

    Kate and I shared this ikigai, I believe. The gardens, the orchard, the bees, the dogs. Moving to the Rocky Mountains where Kate up to the end said happily, “I feel like I’m always on vacation.”

    Now I’ve found my holy Valley and returned to hiking as an every week, usually twice a week, event. Today the holy Valley had the sweet smell of Pine Resin, the splash of color from many Wild Flowers, the sound of peace from Kate’s Creek.

    The Green Man, Andover

    Of course I have other interests. But the guiding core of my life has been seeking a place where wildness was part of the every day. Shadow Mountain is such a place. And I feel happy here. Don’t need more.

    Have you found your ikigai?

     


  • My America

    Summer and the Aloha Moon

    Yesterday. In the front of my house.

    Tuesday gratefuls: The USA. America. The Rockies. The Great Lakes. The Great Dismal Swamp. The Appalachians. The Okefenokee Swamp. The Big Woods. Northern Minnesota. The Cascades. The Smokies. Blue Ridge Parkway. Natchez Trace. Mississippi Delta. The Bayous. The East Coast and the West Coast. The Mississippi and the Missouri. Hawai’i. Kilauea. Mauna Kea. Kauai. The Big Island. Bison. Elk. Mule Deer. Black Bear. Grizzly. Trout. Haddock. Lobster. Bass. Walleye. Muskie. The Tetons. The Great Plains. The High Plains. Denali. Tongass. Kodiak. Salmon. Seals. Otters. Sea Lions. Walrus. Lichens. Mushrooms. Douglas Fir. Lodgepole Pine. Ponderosa. Oaks. Maples. Ironwood. Woodchucks. Turtles. Grasses. Elms. Chestnuts. Hickories. All the wild things. All.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The soil of the Midwest.

    Tarot: Going to do a full spread

     

    I offer three long quotes from three different Americans. Tom Crane sent out the first a week or so ago. The other two have a central piece in my own thought and I’ve now added the Whitman piece. I present them to you after this 4th of despair and chagrin.

    They reflect, are, the America in which I still believe, of which I am a citizen, and for which I shall fight.

     

     

    Preface to Leaves of Grass

    by Walt Whitman

    “This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

     

    From the Introduction to Nature, by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

    “OUR age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing generations beheld God and Nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs? Embosomed for a season in Nature, whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invite us by the powers they supply, to action proportioned to Nature, why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe? The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.

    Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of the creation so far, as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy.”

     

    Henry Beston, The Outermost House: A Year of Life on the Great Beach of Cape Cod.

    “We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate for having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein do we err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”


  • Manage It

    Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Doxy.com. Telemedicine. Waiting for Kristie. Prostate cancer. Orgovyx. Pet scan results. The Mountains. The Blue Sky. The fresh Air. Sun. Oxygen. Emily and her nail clippers. Graduating from p.t. Rebecca.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mortality

    Tarot: Ace of Cups (again)

     

    Waiting on Kristie for a telemedicine appointment. She’ll give me my PET scan results and, I imagine, my bone density, results, too. Feels uncomfortably like sitting for a final exam. Did I study hard enough? What if she asks questions I don’t know the answer to? Oh, well. I’m as prepared now as I’ll ever be. I always was a good test taker, that might help.

    Emily came by yesterday and clipped Rigel and Kepler’s nails. Rigel allowed it, sort of. Kep surprised by both of us by being skittish. He’s had a bad experience somewhere. It was good to see her again after the Hawai’i trip. When I go to Hawai’i in February(probably), I’ll use her again if she’s available.

    Oh, my. Here we go.

    OK. The results. Left side pelvic lymph nodes lit up. A suspicious area in the bone of the right hip. And, a doubtful reading of something in the cervical spine. That means I do have metastasized cancer. Kristie, whom I trust, says this is very treatable. We can manage this for twenty years, she said with a very confident tone of voice.

    I’m a bit less sanguine since I’ve had my prostate removed, Lupron, and 35 sessions of radiation, yet here I am with an elevated PSA and cancer in my lymph nodes. Kristie says, as does Eigner, that of all the cancers, prostate cancer is one they can manage.

    I want to believe and I know the truth is out there.

    Taking Kep into the VRCC today for his allergy shot. Afterwards, a haircut with Jackie, whom I always like to see.

    Had a sad day yesterday. Sorta outa the blue. Although waiting on my PET scan results probably figured into it. I was missing Kate, feeling lonely and isolated. Didn’t feed it, didn’t ignore it. Experienced it and the sadness dissolved.

    Need to go for breakfast, get ready to take the Kepster into Lakewood. Ta for now.

     


  • Tuesday

    Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

    Vega, in a happier moment, with her sister, Rigel

    Wednesday gratefuls: Rigel next to me last night. 48 degrees. Rain. Move that Smoky sign. Kep and Rigel up here with me. Two loft dogs. Flank stead, romaine, tomatoes, red onion, a fancy vinaigrette. Talking with Diane. Mary. Mark. New York Times. Washington Post.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Internet

    Tarot: Six of Cups

     

    Mattress Firm inside

    Wrassled that sheet onto the Tempurpedic. Heavy damned mattress. A king. Trying to solve the creeping bed corner problem. Saw some bed suspenders. Not sure how they’d work on this big a sheet. Even so.

    Not sure if I’ve mentioned this here before but I’ve discovered a secret in common domestic chores. Yes, they’re repetitive and, yes, they often deal with dirt. Wash clothes. Dishes. Sweep. Vacuum. Dust. These are not solvable problems, they reoccur, sometimes within minutes.

    But. They ground me. I’m right there, in the moment, digging a load of wet clothes out of the machine, transferring them to the dryer. Rinsing dishes and trying to put them in the dishwasher with some reason. Broom and dustpan. Dyson vacuum Seoah wisely recommended.

    Cooking. A bit different. As is grocery shopping. Both. Grounding. Here and now stuff, not off in the future, big plans for conquering the world. Cooking brings out a creative side. Tweaking recipes, making up a meal from what’s hanging around in the fridge. Learning how to make salads. My current learning curve. Knife work. Cast iron pan. Herbs. Salt and peppa.

    As a single guy, I’m surprised at how much I like doing these things. My impulse is to put them off, trained into me, a guy thing I imagine, but I’ve learned they all feel better done in the moment, not later.

    Pretty sure this is the idea behind chop wood and carry water.

    From grocery store parking lot

    Yesterday, for example. Went to Safeway. Actually went inside. First time in a long time. Norm is pickup. My salad though needed tomatoes and they were out of heirlooms. I wanted to choose my tomatoes in person.

    While there, I convinced myself, again, that shopping online saves money. Why? Oh, that looks good! Geez, I’ve always wanted to try that. Salami. Cheese. Pretzels. Where did those come from? Frozen entrees. What did I come here for? Oh, right. Tomatoes and butter. Fun once in a while.

    Back home I pulled out the flank steak. The red onion, the cherry tomatoes, and the romaine came out later. I stuck the romaine in some water to help it recover some crispness.

    Mixed up the vinaigrette. Garlic. Thyme. Marjoram. Salt. Pepper. Dijon. Balsamic vinegar. Whisk. Drizzle in olive oil. Mix well. Poured some on the flank steak, covered it, and put it back in the fridge.

    Wait four hours. Tear Romaine into bite size pieces. Cut tomato and onion into wedges. Cherry tomatoes in half. Turn the heat up to medium high under the cast iron skillet. Toss the flank steak on the smoking skillet. 4 minutes. Flip. 4 minutes. Check. Yes. Red. Off the heat. Rest.

    Assemble the salad. Plenty for the next few days. Eat tonight’s portion while watching Naomi Rapace save Zoe in Close. Kep and Rigel by the chair.

    Got my workout in, Ancientrails written. Took a nap.

    Oh, and added some soil to an asphalt divot in front of the house. Mark, my mail guy asked me to, said other mail trucks had come by, hit this, and damaged themselves. I said I’d fill it in and communicate with Jeffco Public Works.

    Six of cups: Nostalgia. Childhood memories. Feelings of well-being. Matters of the heart. Wistfulness.

    A Celtic man looks through a window, perhaps his mind’s eye? Seeing back to his childhood when pleasure was simple, tactile. Maybe the girl is now his wife. Or, his sister. I get the sense that he may feel his true treasures, the ones that bring him authentic pleasure, are his memories, his childhood.

    When I talk with Diane, my cousin, as I do each Tuesday, childhood memories get triggered. We’ve known each other since, well, probably, infancy. I visited her and her family often on the farm in Morristown, Indiana. Lots of memories there. Good ones.

    My childhood, a 1950’s small town idyll. Playing with friends. Going to the field. Racing down hills on our bikes. Baseball at Carver’s. Wagons, collecting pop bottles for money. In and out of the house, often for hours at a time. The world was small and it had streets named Monroe, Harrison, John, Church.

    I’m not a past oriented guy though. These kind of memories, while precious, are not my touchstone. If it were me looking through the window, I’d see myself in a library carrel or in a chair at home reading, perhaps taking notes, perhaps eyes up, looking toward the ceiling or the sky. Or, typing. Painting. Cooking. Cleaning. My true pleasures. Getting off a plane at some new destination. Wandering the halls of a great art museum. Sitting in a planetarium watching a star show. Maybe at an upscale Italian restaurant or a sushi place. Those sorts of things.

     

     

     


  • The Alembic

    Summer and the full Lughnasa Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: A wonderful dinner with Tom at the Bistro last night. Tom’s help in pruning Kate’s clothing and sewing stuff. Friendship. Judgement card. Rain and cooler weather at night.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A close friend

    Tarot card: Judgement, 20th card of the Major Arcana

     

     

    Tarot? So far, remarkable. I apologize if this particular journey of mine doesn’t resonate with yours. I understand. But when, after weeks and months of mourning, grieving I pull a card that one interpreter says: “…represents the results of the fruits of your spiritual work. In an upright position, it’s relief from a difficult journey.”, it jumps out at me.

    Or, this: “To see this card can…indicate that you are in a period of awakening, brought on by the act of self-reflection.”

    Grief, in its most profound sense, is a period of forced self-reflection, a mental and emotional (lev) upheaval that begins with a hurricane of pain and tears, mourning, that gradually dissipates in intensity. As the shock and horror of mourning fades, grieving can begin.

    What pronouns do I use now? Is it still our house? Our car? Her clothes? Our life? How do I react when I see the toothbrush, the hair brush, the favorite t-shirt? The picture? When someone speaks kindly of her, of me, what emotions surface?

    What does it mean, in other words, that I’m alive and she is dead? That’s a first and critical theme of grief. Another, equally critical theme is, who will I be? And, how will I be?

    Kate, Glenwood Springs

    Tom helped me with pruning Kate’s belongings. I know I’m making changes. Necessary changes. Some hard, some less hard. My life now continues without Kate’s physical presence.

    A remodeling of the kitchen, the upstairs bathroom, perhaps a few smaller projects, feels like a right expression of this new life. Yesterday I contacted two remodelers for bids. We’ll see where all this goes. Changing the outer to affect the inner. A mussar principle. Not the only way of affecting the inner, of course, but a valid one.

    Working out, I hope, will let me get some hiking in. Right now I’m under-oxygenated and sore hipped when I walk outside. If that continues, I’ll have to reexamine my assumptions, especially about staying here.

    Studying, learning, writing. All within the next month or so. I can feel it. Is this is a new person? No. Is it a person I want to be? Yes.

    Reading more would insert an older, longed for avatar back into the present day. I’ve been a caregiver, with my first and last energy, and that guy fell by the way. More TV, less reading.

    Is Hawai’i off the table? How about Korea? Or, Taipei. What about travel, a cruise maybe when it seems safe? More Jewishness? More Kabbalah? More Tarot?

    Matthias Grunewald

    “It’s a card of resurrection, conclusions, renewal, and evolution.” This makes sense to me. Resurrecting dormant avatars, renewing my life given drastically changed circumstances, evolving into the third phase widower guy.

    The streak of cards I’ve had since a week ago Wednesday have challenged my flat-earth humanist skeptic heart. And, mind. Keep on rollin’. I’ll learn about spreads at some point, too. Maybe more information.

     

     

    “To see this card can also indicate that you are in a period of awakening, brought on by the act of self-reflection. You now have a clearer idea of what you need to change and how you need to be true yourself and your needs.

    Judgement is the twentieth card of the Major Arcana. Its order is significant: it’s the last card before the completion of the Major Arcana’s numerical cycle. It’s a card of resurrection, conclusions, renewal, and evolution.” Labyrinthos

     

    “The Judgement card is a powerful harbinger of spiritual metamorphosis. Like the Justice card, it’s a card of karma —although of the spiritual variety. It represents the results of the fruits of your spiritual work. In an upright position, it’s relief from a difficult journey.

    When the Judgement card shows up in a reading it can signal a spiritual awakening or time of profound insight. You’ll find yourself having powerful epiphanies regarding parts of your life that are holding you back from growth. It’s an affirmation: that know, you aren’t crazy, you aren’t alone, and it was all worth the effort.

    Arthur Waite in the Key to the Tarot connects this card to personal evolution. It can certainly usher in a period of transformation and rebirth in your life.”  tarotluv

     


  • Shadow Mountain

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Marina Harris and her housecleaning crew. Bond and Devick, trusted. Dr. Niguchi and his hygienist. Clean teeth. Safeway pickup. Ruby working fine. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe coming up at 1 pm. Kep and Rigel, my pals and companions. Cool weather. 59 this morning. New laptop.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe:  Single life.

    Teeth cleaning. Every six months. You know the drill. First time without Kate. We always went together. Kate, always with Kate. She travels in my lev though, everywhere. (Lev is Hebrew for heart/mind. I agree with this more ancient binding of the intellectual and emotional, but English doesn’t have an equivalent.)

    Unexpected moments when Kate comes to mind. Seeing Jackie for my second haircut with only lev Kate. Jon, Ruth, Gabe coming up for a visit. Like old times except, no Grandma. Writing. Thinking I should let Kate see this.

    Each time I’m aware of her, see mail addressed to her, walk by her ashes and my small altar to her, the pain lessens and integrating lev Kate becomes more of a joy. WWKD is an important sieve. I can hear her voice, know her responses which would differ from mine.

    As I said of Kate’s mother Rebecca, who haunted Kate until the day of her death, ghosts live within us. Not all ghosts are hungry ghosts, mean and demeaning as Rebecca was. Kate’s ghost, lev Kate, her spirit and knowledge living with me, brings me a smile, a warm glow. May it always be so.

    Kate, BJ, Ruth, solar eclipse 2017 at BJs Idaho house

    We’ve had rain the last two nights and temperatures have dipped into the high forties. Perfect sleeping. The rain not only improves our wild fire situation, but also knocks down the Lodgepole pollen that filters inside, leaving yellow layers on wood surfaces. Tree sex. We’re in the middle of it right now.

    The Aspen, a later evolved species, use a different strategy. Casting male pollen into the air hoping it lands on a female cone has the hallmark of Pine’s early place in the evolution of Trees. Though Aspen produce seed, cloning through shoots sees Aspen Groves, all with the same DNA, common. More certain than blindingly flinging your stuff into the wind. But both work.

    Jet lag not too bad. Going to sleep at my regular time between 8 pm and 9. Getting up between 5:30 and 6:00. Jagged still, but less so. Working on the plan. Fiscal and physical order here on Shadow Mountain.

    Jon, Ruth, and Gabe arrive around 1 pm, bringing dinner with them. Ruth will start the process of removing Kate’s stuff by defining what she wants from the sewing room. Sewing machine, yes. But, what else, she’ll decide today. She’ll also take Kate’s t-shirts and make me a quilt from some of them.

    Jon plans to work on the Subaru’s brakes, moving forward the time when it can leave the garage. I want it gone since the garage is a key pruning site. Most of the near term pruning will involve Kate’s belongings, getting them distributed where they can help the most.

    I plan to move the Stickley table from downstairs into what had been Kate’s sewing room, creating a more formal dining area. Will use her storage spot as a pantry.

    This process will take a while, but I’d like to finish before August 18th when family will gather for a final tribute to her. Would have been her 77th birthday. Doable.

    Hawai’i has receded. Now faraway, 3,000 miles over water. Loved, not forgotten, but no longer present. Wait and see.

    Byodo-in, Oahu, 2021

     

     

     

     


  • Big Island. Miracles.

    Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

    A year. Either I will make a yes or no decision about moving to Hawai’i at the end of it, or at some point during the year. That is, if I haven’t already.

    When I went to the Ira Progoff workshop in Tucson, the inner work there made me see that being part of Ruth and Gabe’s lives would pass us by if we didn’t move. When I got home. Kate and I talked, agreed. Then we started working on the move. Took about a year, a little less.

    I feel like I’m in the same spot about moving to the Big Island as I was when I left Tucson relative to Colorado. I want to do it. But, I need a conversation with Kate. Maybe I’ll write it out. Dialogical, as Progoff suggests. Put it in the workbook.

    ]In other words I feel confident. I want to go, though there are a lot of details to work out. Yet.  I need a talk with a confidant, a person who won’t let me blow smoke. Kate. The Ancient Ones. Maybe Jamie. Tara, Marilyn.

    A year from now. Or, so. I may be writing Ancientrails from a spot near Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa, and Kilauea. Hope so.

    Tom Crane alerted me to the Solstice. I had it in my head as the 22nd, so I wasn’t paying attention. It’s the triumph of Sol in the North. He stands above our lands longer than on any other day. The longest day. Spreads his power on the narrowest patch of Earth, too, so the energy concentrates, intensifies.

    Me, though, I see it another way. Darkness moves in. The days begin to shorten. Can the Winter Solstice be far behind? Seasonal processions make me happy. Even here in Hawai’i Kau moves slowly toward Ho’oilo. Ho’oilo brings rain and somewhat cooler weather. Transitions.

    The Great Wheel turns now toward Lughnasa, the festival of first fruits celebrated on August 1st. The growing season busily stores Solstice energy, converting nuclear fusion to stored carbohydrates. You want miracles? Try that one.

    We only get so many seasons. Part of the deal. I’m celebrating this one. See you at the suntan lotion counter.