Category Archives: Tarot

Aging, Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

In This Body. Now.

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the full Chesed Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Cancer. The full Chesed Moon. Emergency responders in front of the house last night. Congregation Beth Evergreen. Alan. Pet scans. Orgovyx. Cool morning. The dogs who love me. Friends and family. Fatigue. Claire and her new life.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Soul Mirrors-tarot, torah, tanakh, astrology, friends, memories, art, literature, poetry, wilderness and wild things

Tarot:  Eight of Pentacles

 

Yesterday. A stay at home, I’m too tired to go out anyhow sorta day. Any time I feel weary now I hear Kristie, Dr. Eigner’s PA, asking, “Have you been experiencing fatigue? Bone pain?” Meaning, is the cancer causing you to experience either of these symptoms? Maybe I’m just tired? Or, maybe not. Acchh. Not needed.

Cleaning up. All of Kate’s personal belongings have been donated or targeted to certain people like Ruth. That’s a key part of the first phase. Now I need to clean up the clutter, pitch the items that no one wanted (mostly toiletries). When that’s done and Marina Harris’s crew has cleaned the house (Monday), I’ll be ready to move furniture. Oops. No, I won’t. Ruth still needs to move her sewing things to Jon’s house. A lot.

Anyhow, when they’re gone and the sewing room is empty, I plan to reuse it as a family dining area, a place for large meals. The grow room idea for the front part of this room is still in progress, uncertain. I also want to create a conversation area in front of the fireplace. That means getting rid of those two display cases. That’s not yet accomplished either. Someday soon.

The conversation area will take Kate’s chair from downstairs, the Stickley, perhaps my chair from downstairs. Or, maybe I’ll leave the couch and put the Stickley and Kate’s chair across from it. TBD.

At some point rooms will get painted, more art hung, and the photographs moved to the new dining area’s metal shelving. I’d like to accomplish all this before Thanksgiving, even better, before the end of September.

Cancer news: Alan will take me to Aurora on Tuesday afternoon for my auximin scan. Have to be there at 12:30 for a 1:00 appointment. The inevitable and voluminous paperwork. The presentation of the cards. Then, an injection. “Axumin® (fluciclovine F 18) injection is indicated for positron emission tomography (PET) imaging in men with suspected prostate cancer recurrence based on elevated blood prostate specific antigen (PSA) levels following prior treatment.” Takes about 30 minutes to circulate before the PET scan can begin.

Somewhere before that I’ll take whatever drug Kristie ordered for my claustrophobia. Enclosed spaces and me? Not a good combination. The scan itself takes around an hour, full body. A week later I’ll get the results unless something urgent is found. I hoping for a week later.

On Wednesday I get my first shipment of Orgovyx, the pill-form replacement for Lupron. It has 50% less impact on cardio-vascular issues, important for me. Could cost as much as $140 a month. I balked, then remembered that I’m paying exactly the same for Kep’s cytopoint injections for his allergies.

One step at a time. “A practical, patient, and methodical approach to a project may be needed. These qualities may be needed to improve your health and nutrition.” Tarot’s prince of pentacles. Especially important because this line from the 8 of Pentacles is also true: “(It)…usually will symbolize that you have been working hard for your health goal and yet you are not seeing the desired responses. (see below)

Prostatectomy. Radiation. Androgen deprivation. All of that and I still have a 7.4 PSA. Not the desired response. I appreciate this as well: “Do not allow yourself to become overwhelmed with the larger picture.” A day at a time. Stay in the present. Be here now.

I’m doing pretty well with that. I spin out once a while, but the ultimate question on the table, my mortalityspan, does not send me there. Dying is ok. Expected. Necessary. It’s the hassle of the last days, as Kate experienced, that challenges me. Again, though, not often. I try to stay here. In this body, in this place.

 

 

“The Eight of Pentacles is a card that represents a work in progress. The card can be somewhat concerning in health because it usually will symbolize that you have been working hard for your health goal and yet you are not seeing the desired responses. Whatever your health concern is, right now you need to take a step back and look at the process you are taking. Consider what ways you are doing counter-productive actions and which efforts are simply not enough. Do not allow yourself to become overwhelmed with the larger picture at hand. Take one step at a time and do not lose sight of your goal.” Auntyflo

“A positive card, you should expect good things to happen when you see it; especially aspects relating to a creative industry, or a project or part of your life that you have worked extremely hard on and dedicated yourself to. A good card to draw if you are intent on learning a skill or trade which you have a lot of passion for.”  tarot-explained

 

 

 

Family, Feelings, Garden, Kabbalah, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

Blindfolded and Bound

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

Irises in Andover, 2014

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: PET scans

Tarot:  8 of Swords, Druid

 

August, 2010, honey extraction

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, as I wrote. Oh, maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Memories, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

The Weight

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: BJ and Mary here

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My practice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

 

Family, Feelings, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase

Sad

Leave a comment
Kate, Glenwood Springs

Lughnasa and the Chesed Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sleep.

Tarot card: Seven of Swords, Druid Deck

 

 

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

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

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

Singapore, 2016

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Denver, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Tarot, Weather +Climate

The Moon

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Moon of Chesed

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Breath. Ruach.

Tarot: The Moon, #18 of the Major Arcana

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May it be so.

 

 

 

Beyond the Boundaries, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Jefferson County, Mountains, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

That Bear!

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Friday gratefuls: That bear. Fantastic Fungi. The workout. The fall. Mussar. Chili cheese dogs. A Friday with no appointments. Domestic chores. New neighbors coming. Three in a row. The Tarot. Kabbalah. Shan-shui poetry.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Liberation

Tarot:  Cernunnos, #15 Druid Craft Deck

 

Six and a half years later. Three or four years after Kate. I saw a Bear! A big one. On the same road as I was. And, I was on foot.

Yesterday I did another of my outside cardio workouts. I chose to go around the “block” across Black Mountain Drive from me. A pretty long block as it turned out, about 30 minutes worth. Supposed to be 10, but I had a bad image in my head of the length of the roads.

Krashin went down hill. I’ve recently discovered all the side roads from my stretch of Black Mountain Drive go downhill. Hmm. Must live on the top of Shadow Mountain, eh?

Downhill in Krashin’s instance is toward a deep valley that runs between Shadow Mountain and Black Mountain. The forested valley has no roads, no homes, past the end of a short lane off Krashin. Wild. One or two homes on Black Mountain, perhaps a few more, then over the top of its 10,000 foot peak is the large Staunton State Park. Plenty of critters.

As I shook my head at how little I knew of my own neighborhood, I looked up. The road curved further away from a route back to Black Mountain Drive. A big black Bear ambled across it. Way big. Healthy with lustrous black fur, not in a hurry. Off on a morning errand hunting for food. Then it was gone.

A car came by from the Bear’s direction, slowed to a stop. “Yep. I saw him.” “Good. Just wanted to be sure.” No fooling around when it comes to either Bears or Mountain Lions. Either one can create havoc with the human body.

Being on foot made me vulnerable. I had no bear mace, no bells to ring. I was in shorts and a t-shirt, tennis shoes. Not fighting shape.

So I went on anyhow. Curiosity. That thread I mentioned a few posts back? Often helps me make decisions that are not in my immediate best interest. Where was the Bear? I wanted one more glimpse. Perhaps he hadn’t gone far into the woods. There are homes on both sides of the road, but their properties have many trees.

Couldn’t find him. (I say him because of the size.) I did keep looking, realizing I couldn’t outrun a Bear, they’re fast. Frisson.

During stretching I had started watching Fantastic Fungi, a documentary Tom Crane recommended quite a while ago. What a treat. Made me interested, yet again, in Mushrooms, Lichens. I’ve gone through phases. Ready for another one, I believe. Not only finding edible ones, but becoming more familiar with their roles in forest decomposition, communication. Also, psilocybin. (btw: the documentary is on Netflix.)

Just looked up the Colorado Mycological Society. Looks like fun. Birding? No. Not me. Hunting for Mushrooms? Learning more about them? Yes.

Point here with the Bear? The radical interconnectedness that Mycelium, the underground part of a Mushroom,  a fruiting body for the organism, offers. Mycelium, threadlike, growing one cell at a time, dominate the rich soil layer near the surface. They carry nutrients back to the fruiting body, sure, but they can also transport nutrients between and among groves of trees.

Like Mycelium, the wildlife here are mostly invisible. Once in a while, a sighting. Usually Elk or Mule Deer. The occasional Fox. Marmot, Woodchuck. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Rarely, Bears, Mountain Lions, Lynx, Bobcats. We moved into their habitat and they’ve learned, more or less, to live around us, out of sight, wild. Like the vast underground networks of Mycelium, there are large populations of wild things all around us. At least up here in the Mountains.

We Humans live such sheltered lives, huddled in our right angled dwellings, getting our food from refrigerators and grocery stores, evading the fall of night with electricity. We, at least most of us, know little about how to sleep outside, find food, evade predators. Yet that is the way of wild things.

Cernunnos, #15 of the Major Arcana in the Druid Craft deck.

Cernunnos is the great horned God of the Celtic pantheon. “…the Gaelic god of beasts and wild places. Often called the Horned One, Cernunnos was a mediator (between humans) and nature, able to tame predator and prey so they might lie down together. He remains a mysterious deity, as his original mythos has been lost to history. A God of the Wild.

Given my brief encounter with the Bear and seeing Fantastic Fungi, this card calls to the deep in me. Joseph used to call me nature boy. My mystical feelings run not toward the ineffable, the distant God, but toward the Mycelium that connect us to the Wild life all around us. Cernunnos is the God of those tiny threads, often invisible to us.

People stop their cars to see Elk harems, Mule Deer fawns, a Fox warming itself on asphalt. Why? We don’t stop for dogs, cows, chickens.

That Bear. What a gift I felt seeing him. Why? Rising up from this Elk, that Fox, the Bear is the numinous presence of Cernunnos, the Wild as a dangerous and alien place. We shiver at the sight of creatures who navigate the wild in their daily existence. They are not of our world.*

Tarot commentators find this card intimidating, warning us against dark impulses, becoming enslaved to our wild passions. Not to me. In our sexuality, in our pairs, in our procreation we become one with the wild, perhaps only during the small death of orgasm, but perhaps also through bonding with another human, one of our own species.

These are not dark impulses, rather they are the wild portions of our own soul. Yes, they can scare us, make us do things we regret. Sure. But they can also show us the animal within us, the one who recognizes Cernunnos as its embodiment.

I celebrate the Wild. Cernunnos. Love making. That Bear.

 

 

*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 of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly 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 extensions 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. Henry Beston

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Hawai'i, Jefferson County, Tarot

Tuesday

Leave a comment

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.

 

 

 

Aging, Art and Culture, Asia, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Holidays, Mountains, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Sannyasa

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: HVAC mini-splits. Tom. His HVAC guy. Diane. Cousins. Family. Extended and virtual. Claire and her new life. Social Security. Cool morning. Allergies. Ragweed. Chenopods: amaranth, pigweed, waterhemp, russian thistle, lamb’s quarters. Washing machine. Dishwasher. Stove. Refrigerator. Sink. Well. Pump.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The trouble small bits of plant sex can cause

Tarot: Justice, #11 of the Major Arcana

 

Beginning, slowly. Sensing. Too much time in the afternoons. I take this as a good sign. I’m getting what I need to get done in the mornings, my best portion of the day, then I have a larger chunk of time in the afternoon where I feel a bit aimless. Over the last three years, the afternoon and evenings involved caretaking for Kate. So, filled up, always something else to do.

The pruning, the planning for the 18th, the administrative side of taking over all responsibilities, have all begun to yield. Hardly finished, but none of them weigh on me, pushing me, as they had even this last month.

The Musician and the Hermit – Moritz von Schwind

In my life change often comes because I’m bored. Oh, I’ve got time for this, now! Or, what could I be doing with this time? I have a few go to’s: reading and writing at the top of the list every time. Travel, especially close to home. Hiking. Museum going. Eating out. More time with friends.

There is, too, a niggling sensation that I could be doing more. Something more in a justice/climate change/political activism way. And, yes, I could.

But. I’m trying to lean into the life of the sannyasa, the fourth stage of Hindu life, a stage of renunciation, of pursuit of spiritual matters. And, the life of a mountain recluse in the shan-shui tradition of China. Perhaps, for now, a semi-hermetic life. Focused on reading, learning, writing. Self-awareness. Deepening my inner journey.

I’m going to mark September 29, Michaelmass, as a time to focus on whether this will remain my path. A retreat, perhaps. Three days somewhere in the mountains. Seems like a good idea.

Drew the justice card. No big insights today.

But. I did get a letter from Social Security yesterday explaining why they can’t pay me right now. My mistake. I didn’t give a new routing number after I closed the Health Care Credit Union account.

However, I have a call with them on Thursday, long awaited. This will be the one where I claim survivors benefits which will bump my social security up a grand plus. I started this process in April when I informed them of Kate’s death. Lots of getting put off, turned over to someone else.

 

 

*”It can also suggest a frustrating encounter with bureaucracy. If it shows up in your reading in this context, be prepared to navigate some red tape. Get help or advice from someone within the system you’re working in. Stay patient and persistent. This card in a positive position and upright indicates a good outcome.” tarotluv

Family, Feelings, Kabbalah, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Third Phase, Travel

It Means the World To Me

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Lughnasa Moon

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

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

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

 

The Fates

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

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

BJ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leaving for Hawaii

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

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

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

 

 

 

Family, Friends, GeekWorld, Great Wheel, Kabbalah, Plants, Tarot, The West, Third Phase, Weather +Climate

Kindred Spirits

Leave a comment

Last day of Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sashimi. Japan.

Tarot card: Ace of Wands, Druid Craft Deck

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bull with water lily, 2015, Lake Evergreen

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

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

Black Mountain, 2015

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

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

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

Life on a different, yet familiar ancientrail.