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  • Snow and, well, more Snow

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Snow. Fire repressing Snow! Well over a foot so far. Still Snowing. Generator kicked on. Then off. Then on. Bear was right. It was a glitch last time. Lodgepoles unloading their branches. A Snowplosion! Kep wading through the Snow. Eating it. All this on May 21st. Now the generator is off again. Electricity back full house. And off. Generator back on. Mountain living.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

    Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

     

    Did not go upstairs. Writing in the house. That fall three weeks ago has made me cautious. Even though I have my magic button to summon help. Prefer not to have to. Besides, this is a freaky deaky Storm. Not many like this since I’ve lived up here. Still Snowing.

    Kep jumps in the Snow, plows his way back to the far fence. Pokes around. Pees. Comes back to the door. A bit confused. Not going upstairs, Dad? Those Akita prefecture Mountain genes kick in during these big Snows.

    Now we’re both on my level, I’m writing.

     

    And, oops. I have to go upstairs for a minute. My meds are up there. This gets complicated. The levothyroxine has made me move my morning meds upstairs because of the one-hour delay after I take it. Gonna get Snow in my boots.

    Lights flickering. Generator has gone on and off at least four times in the past thirty minutes. I have the boiler heat going since the mini-splits are not on the generator panel. This gets complicated, too.

    I’ll be back in a moment. Got to carefully slog up stairs. Chemo is in those meds. Geez.

     

    Upstairs. Realized the mini-split in the loft is on the garage panel. That means the generator does feed it. Warm loft. Warm loft good. Chemo taken. That feels better. Not afraid of dying. But. Not eager for it either. Liking this Herme life.

    I’ll stay up here and finish this post. Then downstairs for Word and Deed. A Rabbi Jamie riff on the parsha of the week, Ben-Har. Leviticus 25:1-26:2. Interesting parsha since it introduces shemitah, a sabbath for the land every 7 years and a sabbath for ownership of the land and slaves every 49 years, the Jubilee year. And links them to the weekly sabbath. It so happens that September 7, 2021 to September 25th, 2022 is a shemitah year.

    An observant Jewish farmer will let his crops go for the year. He may eat from whatever grows on its own, but he cannot sell it or trade it. Also, anyone can come and share his crop during the shemitah year. Here’s a group that advances this idea, Hazon.

     

    Yesterday I read. More Connie Zweig, The Inner Work of Aging, The Hidden Order of Intimacy by Avivah Zomberg, and Overstory by Richard Powers. This last one some of you have read. I’m finding it a quick and great read. About trees and the stories they witness.

    I also worked out. Treadmill. Boy, were my legs complaining. Those two days on the trails were good, but they used my legs muscles in different ways. A lot more juking and jiving to retain balance, up and down inclines. Really good workout, but hoo. Glad I have a bye on the weekend. Legs need the rest.

     

    Reading more and more as Herme begins to find his sea legs in this new voyage. From here to eternity. Hah. Look for the occasional Herme update about life and aging and truth from his perspective.

    Also did my first sumi-e piece in over a year. Felt good. May do more today. Getting up here wasn’t hard. Just messy. We’ll see about going down. Right now.

     

     

     

     


    Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Judaism Mountains Shadow Mountain Tarot Weather +Climate

  • Introducing Herme

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Burning Bear Creek. Park County #60. A clean Kep. Geneva Creek. The hike. Good exercise. Outside. In the Mountains. The scent of Lodgepole Pines. Sweet. The sound of Snow Melt throwing itself down Geneva Creek. The Marmoset. The Raccoon. Those molting young Mule Deer Does near the Lariat Lodge. Hamish. Working on Alfieri and Eddie in View from the Bridge. 9:30 to bed. Up at 7:10. Shift already happening.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marmosets and Raccoons

    Tarot: #8, The Stag

    “The Stag is a metaphorical image for the treasure of knowledge in the universe, where the energy of creativity awakens every human soul.” tarotx.net

     

    Kep emerged from Award Winning Pet Grooming shiny and sweet smelling. Grinning. He jumped up on me. Thanks for not forgetting me, Dad! He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met. The longtime owner there. He’s the sweetest Akita I’ve ever met, too, but my experience is limited to Kep, Murdoch, and for a moment, Kya.

    Living in the Mountains continues today. Exercise at Maxwell Creek. I’ll see what it’s like at 9 am or so. Probably nobody. Which is what I want. Gonna start checking for lonely trails somewhere nearby. Even when working out I’m an introvert. A big reason I have my own home gym.

     

    Shedding, like an Akita blowing his coat, my old Self. Letting him go, rushing toward the River feeding the Collective Unconscious. He’ll always be there if I need him. He served me well over the last seven years, but it’s time to let the fourth phase me, the post-Kate me have his day.

    He’s a dig-in to this world deeper guy. A Living in the Mountains guy. Really see this wonder in which I live. He’s a Traveling Alone with a Crowd guy. Herme is his name.

    Instead of looking to go far he’s looking to go in and down, as has been my journey since I left the church over thirty years ago. Slipped away some in the Colorado years. Renewing that journey while rethinking transcendence. I get the need to move beyond ego, but I’m not sure transcendence is the right metaphor. Rolling this around right now.

    Rather than looking to go far Herme wants to investigate the close-by, the near. In his heart. In his inner world. In the Mountains near his home. In Evergreen and CBE. In family and friends. On Shadow Mountain. In his sumi-e brush.

    Herme wants to move on the Elder’s path. Finding his power. Communicating his truth gathered. No longer pounding the world with his fist. No longer seeking distant lands unless inhabited by family. Not seeking success in anything. Living in the World as he lives in the Mountains as his World.

    Herme appreciates the lessons of suffering. But no longer wants to live with them as a primary identity. Cancer will be what cancer is with the treatments available. Jon and the kids will resolve their issues from the divorce or not; Herme will remain in their lives. Kate will be of blessed memory.

    Farewell old man. You served me well, but it’s time for a new phase.

     

     


    Aging Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Great Wheel Health Jefferson County Judaism Mountains Our Land and Home Park County Plants Shadow Mountain Tarot Travel

  • Living in the Mountains

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    art@willwordsworth

    Wednesday gratefuls: Kep. Grooming today. A hike while he’s stylin’. Diane. Arthur Miller. Neil Simon. Clifford Odets. Eugene O’Neil. Thornton Wilder. American theater. August Wilson. The Bard, of course. Those Greeks. The well-made play. Bernard Shaw. Dancing at Lughnasa. Saw it in London. Playwrights. David Mamet. Learning. Stretching new muscles. Old muscles, really. Really old muscles.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Living in the Mountains

    Tarot: Three of Vessels, Joy

    “The ability to connect directly with inspiration allows renewed and re-initiated energies to flow through you, and it is a gift from creation. The ability to lead a life of joy, praise, and gratitude, as if it is an unexpected gift we share, will be a unique blessing. That gift is also acknowledged by people who feel the warmth we are spreading.” tarotx.net

     

    I’m done with kabbalah for the moment. Will finish astrology class because I’m learning now. Maybe glimpsing what others see. After three semesters. Slow, dude. Slow.

    Energy shifting. Realizing I kept myself in my head with the Sefer Yetzirah classes. Not that I don’t love it there. I do. But this one hasn’t fed me. I want deeper connections. To art. To friends. To family. To Shadow Mountain. To Colorado. No. I need deeper connections. Acting class feeds that part of me. Also, reading plays.

    Gonna try moving my bedtime. Maybe in 15 minute increments. Aiming for 10 pm. Up at 7:00-7:30. Leave a better opening for night time activity. Not always shocking myself with sleep deprivation when I go to Nocturne or Dazzle for a jazz evening.

    Also, as I said yesterday, for services at CBE, for acting class. For dining out.

     

    Kep goes to Bailey today for his regular grooming. A life without dog hair in the house! Well, without LOTS of dog hair. Yes. Seems to work. The groomer suggested an eight week schedule.

    While he gets beautifuler, I plan a hike at this place. Burning Bear East Trail. 

    Why? Want to get out outside more. And, I love the name. Burning Bear. Wonder what the story is? The trail follows Burning Bear Creek. I’ll take pictures. Need sun screen, my camelpack, and my hiking boots.

     

    Back from Bailey, Burning Bear Creek. Never found the trailhead. I went about 7 miles up a Park County road, #60, that goes deep into the Pike National Forest. Not sure why I missed it, but I did. After I got back on 285 I drove to the Guanella Pass and found the trail’s eastern head about 6 miles up the pass.

    Living in the Mountains. Gonna be a new motto for me. Like living in the move when we first transitioned to the Rockies. Various things blocked my getting out and hiking in the Mountains. Cancer. Kate’s illness. Nearby trails crowded or too steep for my impaired diaphragm. Sure, they’re excuses, but they have also been real barriers.

    The result of all these barriers over the last seven years is that I (we) lived on a Mountain, but rarely in the Mountains. We lived in the Front Range. The extended Denver metro. Still wonderful but far, far from all that’s here.

    Not anymore. As I drove up Park County #60 here are a few of the things I saw:

     

     

     

     

     

    The last four pictures feature Beaver modified terrain. The last picture, a bit hard to identify, has the dam, a big one about 2/3’s of the way up from the bottom.

    A Marmoset crossed my path looking like a fat Old West accountant scurrying off to his goose-quill and raised desk. On Monday night coming home from Evergreen I saw a very healthy Raccoon slipping off the road and into the Marsh.

    Seeing animals, healthy animals. Yes.

    What I realized was that up every country road that heads up into the Mountains contains some version of this. Every trail that heads into them, too. And I’ve not been out there.

    I’m not as able as I was when I got here. I huff and puff a lot more, but it’s good for me. When I lived in Andover, I did a lot of my exercise outside. County Parks. A trail behind the new library. Winter and Spring and Fall. Summer usually inside. Air conditioning.

    Anyhow. Living in the Mountains. Traveling Alone. (With a crowd.)

    I did find the Geneva Creek Trail. Hiked it for 30 minutes.

     


    Feelings Fourth Phase Mountains Park County Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Oh, the Wonders We’ll See

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Deb. Robbie. Tal. Gretchen. Alan. Terrence. Jill. Nights. Lunar red. The full red Moon. Cloudy skies. Skipping Sefer Yetzirah. Learning things in astrology. Not enough. Reading plays. Loving it. Art is not only sculpture, prints, paintings, metal work. Literature. Theater. Music. Oh. Remembering.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Alfieri and Felix

    Tarot: #8, The Stag

     

    “The Stag shows our connection to the universe and…organic life on this planet. The hatchet is a symbolic image of the human will to alter the environment. In order for the environment to change more positively, we need not only more effective actions but also (to accept) our responsibility to nature. On the shield, the picture of a great Oak tree reminds us that we must preserve and protect natural resources.” tarotx.net

     

    Wow. Up at 9:22 am this morning. To bed at 10:30 pm. Acting class and pre-bed routine. Woke up and felt great. I went, huh? No time to write Ancientrails before Astrology class. No time to exercise so I skipped Sefer Yetzirah. Skipping class. For me? Hardly ever. I loved doing it this time.

    Had brunch, then exercised. Felt and feel great. Pay attention to accidents. Like the fall, yes, but in this case a late night, late morning. Well. I could do this, I guess. Just because for the last 30 years I’ve gone to bed early and gotten up early does that mean I still have to? No. It doesn’t

    If my acting lessons take me anywhere, which I’m not expecting, but if they do, rehearsal? At night. Performances? At night. Services at CBE? At night. It would open up a different lifestyle for me.

    On that note. I got stuck. My Minneapolis Institute of Arts experience led me to a Johnny-one note approach to the arts. Painted. Sculpted. Printed. Sewn. Splattered. Photographed. Videoed. Yes. If I couldn’t regularly see high quality art of this kind, well…

    Then my buddy Alan suggested I take an acting class. Sure. Why not? At the very least a reminder of a different art form. One I’d engaged in the long ago far away. Whoa. Heart work. Body work. Get the mind out of the way work. Reread some contemporary work like The Odd Couple, View From the Bridge, next American Buffalo. Act scenes from them. Develop the Self in a new way.

    I mean. Like the proverbial 2×4. Oh. Yeah. And music, too. Gotta get somebody, maybe Alan, to help get my audio world turned on here on Shadow Mountain. Will begin again to read classical literature. Metamorphosis first, I imagine.

    As Ode said, routines. The only difference betweeen a rut and a grave are the dimensions. Yeah.

    So I may become a later to bed, later to rise guy. For art’s sake.

     

    Here’s a realization I had today. When I take something from Taoism, I take it as a Taoist.When I take something from Christianity, I take it as a Christian. When I take something from Judaism, I take it as a Jew.When I take something from Islam, I take it as a Muslim. When I take something from Hinduism, I take it as a Hindu.

    Furthermore. When I take something from Japanese culture, I take it as a Japanese. From Colombia as a Colombian. From the Celts as a Celt.

    Syncretism and appropriation are dirty words in most intellectual circles. I’m not trying to create a new, smashed together religion, nor am I lifting ideas from their living culture to reorient in mine.

    Nope. When I say I’m a follower of Shiva, which I am, I mean I’m aware of and beholden to the cosmic dance of creation and destruction and Shiva is its name. When I say ichi-go ich-e is important for me, I’m saying this moment, this one while I’m typing on the keyboard, throwing these ideas out into the cyberether, will never happen again. And, is precious for that reason. When I say I follow the Great Wheel, I’m an ancient Celtic thinker noticing the stars and the changing of the seasons, tying them together in a long, yet repeating spiral.

    I don’t pick and choose. Nope to that either. Some ideas and concepts that come to me as I read, listen, see change my way. When they change my way, they become part of me, part of my ancientrail.

    Neither striving for nor hoping for a neat package tied up with a bow. Nicely systematized. Not important to me. Insights into life and how to live it? Very important to me.


    Aging Art and Culture Astrology Cinema and Television Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Humanities Latin Letters Literature Music Myth and Story Shadow Mountain Tarot Translating Metamorphoses Travel Writing

  • The No Strangers, No Contact Which Requires Extra Effort Level

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    art@willwordsworth

    Monday gratefuls: CBE. Comedy. Tater tots. Alan as an auctioneer. The improv troupe. Luke’s mom. Luke. Mindy. The auction. The Ancient Brothers on travel. Black Mountain. The Solar panels. Warm weather. Cool nights. Last of the back pain beginning to recede. Hamish. Acting Class. Felix. Oscar. Dinner on Friday with Alan.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Folks beginning to ask me for favors

    Tarot: Two of Bows, Decision

    “A person standing on top of a hill, in the middle of the night, against the starry sky. His head is surrounded by a halo of fire, the flame of determination. In each hand, he holds a long, incomplete arched bow, which is higher than the top of his head. From the bow, the flames erupted, symbolizing his vitality and authority.

    Awakening the unconscious senses associated with the desire to make decisions. The gate is opened in front of every individual, who is prepared to take the initiative.” tarotx.net

     

    An interesting back and forth right now. Continue on, stay the course with the life of today. Which I love. And/0r. Add more elements to it so that my every day veers into new territory. The two of Bows suggest I’m trying to push myself toward something different, something new. Acting? Short trips?

    As Ode said yesterday morning, routines are (or can be) deadly. Draining vitality. Obfuscating potential. They can also though be productive. 17 plus years of Ancientrails. An exercise habit. Feeding dogs. Sunday mornings with the Ancient Brothers.

    Excited to feel the stirrings. No idea right now where they incline. Will emerge. And I want to be ready.

     

    Got the art cart cleared off. Ready to get out my sumi-e brushes and start one-stroke painting. A meditation. Got the coffee table cleared downstairs. My pruning continues. Slow, but steady. Having the Sewing Room dining area created opened space for me to do other fussy stuff. Gonna clear off the table in there today, too. Just washed jars for the pantry and my collection of Rat Zappers.

     

    Also head down the hill at 8:15 to Stevenson Toyota. Tire swap. Blizzaks for all-seasons. Checking tread depth. Might be time for new Blizzaks. This fall. While waiting on this work to get done, I’m going to work on developing Felix and the lawyer from A View From the Bridge. I have the Odd Couple script, but not the Arthur Miller piece yet.

     

    Another interesting paradox right now. I’m so at home with Marilyn and Irv, Alan, Ron, Jamie, Rich, Susan, Judy, Tara even Ellen, Mindy, Anne, Sally, Fran, Anshel, Leslie, and Robbie. They’re my CBE. As long as I’m one on one, or in small groups, I feel welcome and loved. There are a few others like Michele and David, Tal, Joan and Rick, Jamie and Steve, Dan and Kristi, the Lehmans that are a smaller, further circle out for me, but I still see them as close acquaintances.

    Yet when I go to a service or to an event like the Funraiser Fundraiser which featured a Jewish comic from New York, I can’t get away fast enough when it’s over. Most of the other folks I don’t know. When Kate was alive, this paradox almost didn’t exist because she belonged there in a way I didn’t and I stood in her acceptance.

    To be fair I always skip out of theaters, movies, concerts first of all the folks if I can. I like to get out and away. I’ve told myself it was because I didn’t want to hassle with other cars in a crowded parking lot. Now I’m wondering if it’s because my social battery has been drained dry during the event.

    As I’m writing this, I’m thinking, hey. There’s your answer. This event yesterday had a long form improv group directed by Tal perform. Afterward, Alan auctioned off Jewish food: latkes, mondle bread, knishes, smoked brisket, rugelach, macaroons, and, of course, chopped liver. The six pound brisket went for $200. My friend Mindy’s knishes brought well over $100 for 16 and her mondle bread went for over $100, too. A fund raiser.

    Then came the comic. Jessica Kirson. Never heard of her, but she was good. “I love doing shows for my people.” Her set went longer than advertised which was good.

    But. I got there 2:50 and scooted out the door at 5:35. Exhausted. I’d been around more people than I had since Covid began. No mask. Double boosted. There was ventilation and it wasn’t a massive crowd though a good turnout for CBE. That’s it. Not that I don’t fit, just that I’d run my battery all the way down to the no strangers, no contact which requires extra effort level. Nearing nobody at all no how. The bottom.

    Thank you for listening. And out.

     

     

     

     


    Art and Culture Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends GeekWorld Humor Judaism Kabbalah Mussar Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Uncomplicated

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    Sunday gratefuls: Fosamax. Levothyroxine. Erleada. Orgovyx. Prostate cancer. Kristie. Kristen. Medical knowledge. Doctors. Kate, always Kate. Diaphanous gowns. Good job on the ABD, Kenton. Love in sign language. Life review. Pruning. Proceeding.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Sumi-e

    Tarot: Six of Bows, abundance

    “…the Six of Bows asks us to consider where we have struggled and worked hard in our lives and what abundance we have gained as a result. Now…is the time to give thanks for these blessings of abundance – what do you have to be thankful for? How will you share your blessings?” tarotx.net

     

    Over the last year and a month I’ve struggled with grief. Struggled not because it was bad, but because it was necessary. Kate meant and means the world to me. One of her friends recently told me Kate felt the same way about me. That was a sweet and precious moment.

    Over the last week since her yahrzeit at CBE I’ve been having a desire to finish spreading her ashes. This time by myself, early in the morning. Maxwell Creek. I’ll leave some to be mixed with mine when the time comes. But the rest, on its way to the World Ocean. Feels like the right time. And something I need to finish alone.

    Grief never ends. Not sure if that’s true. Grief for Mom has subsided to remembrance. Of course, her death was 58 years ago. I may not have time to come to the same resolution with Kate’s death. Although.

    My grief about Mom was hard. I remembered her telling me I’d made her cry at Christmas. At 17 I’m sure I did. Her death came like a lightning bolt into our lives. It did not draw us together, but at least for me it sundered family ties.

    Complicated grief. Painful and filled with regret. It took alcoholism and years of analysis to right the boat. By that time I was two marriages into my 30’s. I finally bobbed to the surface in my late 30’s. Right around, come to think of it, when I lost the hearing in my left ear.

    Grief for Kate has none of those elements. No regrets save for one which I’ve mentioned and which I’ve worked through with the help of Sarah, Diane, and Rebecca.

    The main intensifier not a complication. I finally met and married a woman while I was sober. One of a kind, as a note from Bond and Devick said. Yes, she was. We were for each other always and until the end. In fact past the end since I know her love for me gives me the freedom to live this next phase of my life in my own way. She also left me the resources to do it.

    Knowing that makes the grief more bittersweet. More poignant. More filled with gratitude for her life, our life together, and my life now.

    As the six of bows suggests, this struggle has been hard, but it has left me with abundance. A heart filled with love. And chesed. A life filled with love and family. Good friends. A good home and a good dog. In the Rocky Mountains. Sharing the abundance comes easily to me. As it always did to Kate.


    Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Judaism Mountains Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • A Change in the Mind

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    art@willwordsworth

    Tuesday gratefuls: Dead Mouse. Felix in the Odd Couple. A lawyer in View From the Bridge. Dinner at Robbie’s early. Back much better. Melancholy. Back. The Sun. My Rocky patch of Mother Earth. Kate fertilized Iris pushing up into the Light. Kep. A real sweetheart. Happy to see me last night when I came home from acting class.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A script

    Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

    ” Healthy activity and independence adorn your path.  Boldness, pride, and love for the land lead you… Let the Horse take you away.

    Mentally, you may suddenly find yourself overwhelmed for no specific reason. You can try to control each issue at a time. You are going through a mental change when this happens. Remember that you change for the better.” tarot.com

     

    Suddenly overwhelmed. As the Knight of Stones says. A response to exhaustion from Saturday, then last night. An hour late getting to bed because of acting class. Still a bit achy from the fall. Body not quite right. Exercised hard yesterday as well.

    Melancholy. Things bite that wouldn’t have a week ago. Shorter fuse. Not my favorite state of being, but one that recognizes a truth. I’m going through a change, maybe the one I’ve been seeking, that new life I’ve perseverated about.

    Lots of clues. The Inner Work of Aging reading. This reply from my oncologists about my future.* That fall. The house nearing completion, Vince on tap for some more work inside and out. The acting class. Wondering if I’d be able to learn lines. My waning interest in kabbalah and astrology. Reluctance about travel.

    Mortality behind me. Mortality ahead of me.

     

    Got cast as Felix in the Odd Couple for a scene with Alan. And as a lawyer in a scene from Arthur Miller’s A View From the Bridge. This is scene study, the purpose of the class. It helps us develop an approach, a process for taking on a role. It was fun, but when I had to improv the Odd Couple scene, I felt out to sea. Like my memory had deserted me. Not true, yet it added a layer to the melancholy coming on the night air.

    After the class I stepped off a high curb, unlit, stumbled, hit a sewer cover, and tripped. Righted myself. With a quick FUCK! Another vulnerability message. Pay more attention at night, Charlie.

    An inner journey underway, headed to the shadow side on Shadow Mountain.

     

    *You have had a great response to Orgovyx/Erleada combo thus far and could continue this way for years to come. Individual response varies incredulously. Regardless, there are a multitude of additional modalities beyond this to treat you. I believe you could live 10+ years but in what state of health is hard for me to say because I am also not as privy to the rest of your medical history as your primary care.” Kristie

     

    “I agree with Kristie. You are responding quite well and we still have plenty of ammunition unused for the future if needed. And we continue to make great progress with time. So for now you are good. What happens years from now we don’t know…so it is possible this does effect your longevity, but I am not willing to say that for sure at this time.” Dr. Eigner


    Aging Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Humanities Literature Shadow Mountain Tarot Travel

  • RazzPutin

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Beltane and the Beltane Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Blue Sky over Black Mountain. A fading contrail. Sun hitting the solar panels. Wind. Muscles still healing. Luke. A sweet guy. So talented. Rabbi Jamie smiling, easy. Mussar. Kate’s yahrzeit tonight at CBE. Her plaque on the yahrzeit wall lit up. Kya. The road trip to meet her tomorrow. Ode on the Road.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: A possible buddy for Kep

    Tarot: Six of Vessels, reunion

     

    At first I thought. My class reunion in September. Read a note about it before I shuffled the cards. That’s pretty on the nose. But something deeper. The mound, a dolmen? Pouring out of it. Water. Into a pond on which six small vessels float, a light in each one. Ferns and arrow root frame the vessels. Two otters look intrigued. They might slide into the water and play. The sun is behind the trees, faint as if it were dawn or dusk. Long shadows jut out from the leafless, gnarled trees.

    The deep and holy well of memory gushes into the pond of our everday, our present. Perhaps unexpected. Yet with strong emotion. Emotion that can illumine our life. If we let it. Maybe I’m the Otter, the one with his head up, looking at the Waterfall. Maybe I’m the Arrowroot, ready to offer stored up energy for the table of this life.

    This continues the story from yesterday, of old bonds broken, other old bonds recalled and renewed. Gushing out of the dolmen, informing me. Philosophy. Acting. Writing about travel, politics. Writing itself. Friendships nurtured. Maybe movies. Art.

    This is the Watercourse way. Following the River of self where it flows, not forcing it. Embracing the eddies and pools, the rapids, the sudden falls. Ah.

     

    The war in Ukraine. America loves an underdog. The plucky Ukrainians against the old Russian empire led by Czar RazzPutin. The bare-chested bear baiter ruler against the comedian. Seems like an obvious win for the Empire, neh?

    Funny how things are working out. As the military loves to say, the Ukrainians have taken the fight to the Russians. The supposed easy victims now become the aggressor. Must be confusing for the folks back at Russia military HQ. Heads will roll.

    While I sit atop Shadow Mountain, fingers crossed that some event or another doesn’t pull us all in. Biden’s got this one right. Unite the allies. Send weapons. Money. Intelligence. Stay out of it otherwise. A larger war would serve no ones interest. A Ukrainian victory just might make the world safe for democracy. For awhile. As we’ve often claimed as our motive.

     

    Of course. That assumes the electorate in the U.S. still wants a democracy. I’m pretty sure the majority do, but there’s that troublesome fringe  of fascists, organized and strong. Trumpites. Trumpettes. Trumpists. Fascistii with too long red ties, those red hats, and hearts filled with sadness over the loss of white privilege.

    Live free or die. Don’t tread on me. Those confederate battle flags. Flown in defense of a form of government that will, by definition, restrict freedom. Oh, well. May you live in weird times. We are.

     

     


    Dogs Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Memories Politics Shadow Mountain Tarot US History World History

  • Erev Beltane

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and the Beltane Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Pete and the chandelier. Better than I thought. More exercise. Call from Ode. Breakfast with Alan on Monday. No Mouse in the kitchen Rat zapper! Cool night. Wild dream. New Acorns. Still reading Amanda Palmer. Qin Empire: Alliance. TV. Outer Range. TV. High Country News. P-22, the Mountain Lion of Griffith Park in LA.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The predator eating the Mice

     

    I throw the dead Mice over the fence. In a very short time they’re gone. Gonna watch this AM. See who this critter is. Glad to feed somebody. Makes this less onerous. A circle of life thing.

     

    Presentation tomorrow for Groveland. Zoom. Quite the thing. Something I couldn’t have done otherwise. Devolution. Trying to follow David Sanders advice. Write as I talk. Still working on reimagining faith after all these years. Getting very close to what I saw originally. The key move may be asking why privilege faith in the unseen when the seen has as much power in our daily lives? Our whole lives. I will post Devolution after I’ve presented it. Happy for critiques, thoughts.

     

    Ode called from the road yesterday. On his way to Taos. Blown away by the West. His sketchbooks, my blog. A daily discipline. Influenced by life in the moment. A confidant. To whom we tell our story. While other people listen in. Or see. Native to each of us. Over many years. A friend. He saw this similarity.

    A legacy of a sort. Maybe a legacy in reality. I’ve ensured Ancientrails’ longevity past my death in my trust. Not really a bid for immortality or legacy, but a way for grandkids and kids to remember Dad or grandpop. What was he like? Oh, yeah. Kate’s quilts, mug rugs, shirts, dresses, wall hangings. A bit of us hanging over in the visible world: stitches, color and ink, words.

     

    Healthspan. Asked Kristie about it. She said I could live 10 plus years with the treatments available for prostate cancer. Kristen, my PCP, said 90 was reachable with my current health conditions. Both positive and sobering. I mean, geez, even fifteen years. That would get me back to only 60. Not that long ago.

    Still. Able to live, love, write, travel. Tomorrow is not promised. Only this moment is sure. Gonna keep at it until I can’t. Unafraid. Except about getting Covid. Damn that disease got under my skin. Stephanie, the PA I see at Conifer Medical said, “Covid’s weird.” She had a tone of respect in her voice. Wu wei.

     

    The world. Odd things. Why my gratefuls include items like prostate cancer, death, grieving, illness, war, climate change. We see only dimly, though that darkly glass. Putin invades Ukraine. Awful. Ukraine stands up to Putin. Amazing. The fractured EU and Nato begins to heal, the West remembers itself. Wonderful. Ukraine pushes Russia out of Kyiv and begins to carry the fight to them. Wow. Biden’s handling of our response elevates him in world leadership.

    As does his handling of Covid. Which we may now find ourselves sort of out of. As a pandemic anyhow. Not gone. Probably never gone. Like the flu. Will we need Covid shots, boosters now? Like flu shots. Annually? Maybe. Fine.

    Covid has changed the nature of work. Created an economic recovery which has raised wages for the working class. Has cost us so many lives. So much time together. Made us realize how precious community is, even for solitaries like me.

    We often see well only in what Kate used to call the retrospectoscope. Why we need history. So much. I love history. And art. And religion. And writing. And people. And Shadow Mountain. And Arapaho National Forest. And Maxwell Creek. And whatever eats my dead Mice. Even the Mice. And life itself. Death, too.

     

     

     

     

     

     


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  • Certainty

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

    after the election, 2016

    Saturday gratefuls: Hoo, boy. Workout on Friday. Good, but hard. Two sets. Wondering whether I need to go to 3. Got my cardio up. Well up. 300 minutes in the last week. 5 hours. Love the energy boost a working or partly working thyroid gives. Jackie. Haircut. She’s a sweetheart. She said of Kate, “I miss her flipping you off.” Me, too.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: April

     

     

    Decided two things. 1. Write Ancientrails and workout. See where the day goes after. 2. Make one new recipe and one new salad each week. On 2. Still trying to navigate cooking for one, yet liking to cook. Difficult. Finishing the first phase of kitchen reassemble today and tomorrow. Gonna. Get. It. Done.

    Even though my energy level has improved a lot, my stamina is still not great. Plus I find myself easily overwhelmed with trying to imagine a good way of replacing items in the cabinets. Plan to push past that and finish. Things can always get moved later if I don’t like their location.

    I would also like to get the remaining common room papers at least moved out of the room, set up the Roomba. Let the common room enter its useful period. May hang some art if I have energy left. Still have to call Dave for the couch reupholstery. And Peter needs to come and hang two lamps. Chandelier coming later.

    Plan to get some firewood today, too. Not a lot, enough for two or three fires. See how my lungs handle it. Should be ok, but…

     

    To Speak for the Trees is a feminist work of top order. Also a work about claiming and owning your own gifts. And, not coincidentally, a powerful expression of the Celtic cultural deposit. Very similar to the First Nations in kind and quality. In fact, the Celtic experience in the British Isles has many similarities to the Native experience in the U.S.

    Although their near genocide happened much further back in time. The Romans drove them into Wales and up into Scotland, down into Cornwall. The Vikings attacked what is now Ireland. Where the red hair comes from. Then the Roman Catholic Church, allied with the Anglo-Saxons, drove the ancient Celtic faith often literally underground, building their churches over holy wells and other sacred spots. The bastards.

    The old Celtic culture lasted longest in Wales, parts of Scotland, and in the Gaeltalk part of Ireland. Brittany and Galicia, in France and Spain respectively, as well.

    Beresford-Kroger writes of her education in the old ways in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s as the final waning of Druidic lore and the old Celtic culture. She is in my pantheon of heroines. Be like Diana.

     

    Setting out on another semester of classes at the Kabbalah Experience: Sefer Yetzirah III and Diving Deep into the Stars or Astrology and Kabbalah III. Having fun with these. Guess you could call it a quasi-hobby. Quasi because it’s too serious for fun and too much fun to be serious. I really like these classes, the strange world they open up. And, as David says, even if you’re agnostic about astrology you’re still learning something about yourself, aren’t you? I am.

    Because I’ve dipped a foot (way more than a toe by this point) into Kabbalah, astrology, and tarot, when I saw the sign for new moon intuitive readings, I thought, what the hell? $20 for 15 minutes. Just down from Jackie’s hair salon.

    Put my money down. Get quiet, then when you’re ready, say your name three times. Charles Buckman-Ellis. Charles Buckman-Ellis. Charles Buckman-Ellis. You’re at a big turning point. Well, yes. You’re a strong psychic, you could do this work. Oh? I need to lean into certainty. That’s probably true. Ha ha.

    After I told her Kate died a year ago, she said Kate reassures me, wants me to know that’s she fine, better than fine. Dancing. She taps me on the left shoulder sometimes. She wants me to live my own life. I have a strong core and that new life has begun to blossom. Mary, the psychic, mentioned a rose, but I saw a lotus opening.

    Not sure what to make of it. Some of what she said made me think she had read something of me. The part about certainty in particular. And, the time of a big turning point. Though I suppose we’re all always at some turning point or another. Still. I liked hearing  Kate reassured me even if I doubted it. Because I’d like it to be true. An odd time, definitely worth $20.

     

     

     

     

     


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