Where is the Webb? Slowwwing. .4987 miles per second. 398000 miles from Earth, 500100 miles to L2. 5 days into mission.
@willworthingtonart
Thursday gratefuls: PSA lower, not undetectable. Prostate cancer. Cold night. Slept in till 7:30. Ode’s quote from Nerburne. Ode and Elizabeth battling the spiked one. Mary, teaching at UW next semester. Kep, staring at me, wanting part of my burrito. Big Snows in the higher country. Better Snowpack numbers. 2022 close by. Waiting. 2021, after so very much kvetching, will not be sad to go.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow flurries in the Sky right now.
Tarot: The Moon on the Water, #18 of the Major Arcana
The Moon on the Water
“The Moon on Water heralds the moment of inner and cognitive transformation. The transformation can hide in a seemingly random situation in human minds and emotions. However, there’s a voice that has been whispering in you about this for a long time. Now, your soul is bringing the core symbols of the human subconscious into the real world. More specifically, it can occur in the form of a desire to investigate or study an ideological, philosophical, or spiritual pursuit.”
Wildwood book
Charlie 3rd grade
A new year coming. I doubt anybody will say 2022 has got to be better than 2021. After having said the same about 2021. Not hearing it from me either. Although I very much want to say it. And, believe it.
I’m taking the last two days of this wretched year with the Moon on the Water. Whatever happens in the outer, spiky world we can find our way to the Peat Bog, Marsh Grasses punctuating the egg shaped Moon on the Water. An Aurochs silhouetted against the full Moon, above him a Heron in flight. This is primal, the place where imagination and thought swim in the rich Waters of our inner Holy Well.
Provided we sit quietly, allow the Waters to gush up from the collective unconscious, we will find traction even in a hostile outer world. We have the resources within us and within the interconnectedness that hammocks us. We only need wait till they rise.
orgovyx
Got my lab results. PSA down from 1.0 to .20. Still not all the way down. Curious what the docs think of this. Said last time I might get yet another med. Likely, I think.
Disappointed. Looking for a boost with undetectable. Nope. Better, but not where it needs to be.
Yule and the waning crescent of the Winter Solstice Moon
Where’s the Webb? Still slowing. .5860 miles per second. Or, 2044 mph. 347000 miles from Earth and 552000 to L2. 4 days into the mission.
Wednesday gratefuls: NPO. Nothing by mouth. Blood work this morning. Pick up some paper plates and some frozen entrees. Shingles vaccine. All in one store: Safeway. Down the hill. Breakfast out after fasting. Back home for more D3, domestic duty day. Cold, Snow. Home. Sink. Counter Top. Cabinets coming on Friday. Assistance Fund.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cancer surveillance
Tarot: Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life wildwood
A neighbor slid off Shadow Mountain yesterday afternoon. Broke 7 ribs. Taken away by ambulance. Caught by trees so didn’t flip over.
You wouldn’t think it, but the Great Resignation is partly to blame. Jeffco does not have enough snow plow drivers. Reduced presence on our Shadow Mountain/Black Mountain/Brook Forest drive. Which is a bit strange even so. A school bus route. The only road for emergency vehicles to get up here and for us to use in case of evacuation.
Folks (reasonably) demanding better pay and working conditions. I get it. Go, union! One of those paradoxes.
Supply chain interruptions. Any one who has transited the Panama Canal, Kate and I did it twice, has seen the global supply chain. We came to the canal very early in the morning on our Latin American cruise. I got up around 4 am, walked onto the deck. Our ship, the Rotterdam?, had a priority slot so we could see the canal during the day. We floated slowly through a sea of ships parked, waiting for their turn in line. Lights strung along hulls, blinking red on radar masts. Very little noise. Whatever needed to get to L.A. or Tokyo or Shanghai from Europe or western Africa stranded for the moment, a queue so big it’s hard to imagine.
At major ports in the world this queue has swollen, ships often waiting days to dock and unload. What a fragile thing our global interconnections are. Clogged and disrupted by something .125 microns in size.
Worked out yesterday. Felt sluggish. Happens. Missed Monday with Jodi’s visit to choose backsplash tiles. Back at it tomorrow. Trying to feel easy with exercising when I can. I passed a critical point long ago, maybe at 45 or so, where I began to think of myself as an exerciser. A person who regularly works out. The downside (and upside) is that I feel mild guilt if I don’t workout according to whatever schedule I’m currently following. I want to lose the guilt and keep the self-identification. Proving difficult.
Not quite as bouncy. Like an internal drag chute has deployed. Slowing me down. Not sick. John Desteian enlisted Kate’s help for me since I can miss a slide into melancholia. She would say, at my request, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That was an alert. Oh. Maybe my Ancient Brothers can take up that task.
If melancholy has begun, it would not surprise me. Not at all. It’s been a tough, tough three years, seven years really, starting from my prostate cancer diagnosis. A lot of putting the weight on my shoulders, head down, legs driving forward. Proud I can do that. But, it has a price. Weariness. Exhaustion. Denial.
I might need to locate a therapist, preferably a Jungian analyst. What I’m familiar with, what helped me so much years ago.
Not sending up a flare. I’m ok. Feeling that weight. Grief. Covid. Even the remodel and the mini-splits. All stressors. Also, blood work today. My anxiety titer always goes up a bit.
The Tarot gave me an antidote today. The Ace of Vessels, the Waters of Life. Aces are about potential, about beginnings, about the power of their elementals and their focus. Vessels (cups) are about the emotions and their elemental is Water. The Water Course Way. Alan Watts. Flow with the feelings, don’t push against them, see them for what they are. A release valve, a healing mechanism. Embrace them.
Going to talk to Diane, then head down the hill to Safeway.
Where is the Webb? Three days and two hours into its flight. Still slowing at .6555 miles per second. 296000 miles from Earth and 603000 miles to L2 insertion. 33% of its path behind.
Tuesday gratefuls: The cold. Some new Snow. A clear blue Sky. Water, a true holy trinity: liquid, solid, gas. And that unique property, the solid is lighter than the liquid. Makes life possible. Think about it. The Webb, traveling toward home. Science. The unseen. Life. Other humans, near and far. Prostate cancer. Jodi. The new backsplash, brick-like tile. Caution. Slippery Mountain roads.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jamie’s Road Trip
Tarot: The Year Spread
Where I want my PSA
Was gonna get my blood work done today. Nope. Icy Shadow Mountain Drive. 285, not as bad, but not good. Moved my trip till tomorrow. I’m also getting shot #1 of the shingles vaccine. No, I don’t know why I’ve never gotten it.
I hope the Orgovyx has pushed my T-score, testosterone, further down, and my PSA to undetectable. I’d like to let go of thinking about this for at least a few more months. A little nervous, yes. These quarterly blood draws ratchet up the excitement. Will it be down or won’t it? Not as bad now as the ones a few months ago when I still thought I could be cured. Now it’s a numbers game. PSA down. All good. PSA up. New treatment time.
A friend, Jimmy Johnson, has a PSA of 9.4. His doctor said not to worry about it, he’d die of something else. He’s 80. Made me wonder if I can back off the treatments when I reach a certain age. Whether I’d be comfortable with that.
Half working
Jodi came yesterday. She brought tile samples, the brick veneer. This time we could look at them with the counter top in. Made choosing easier. Went with a buff-gray. She says she can get those by early next week. If Brian does deliver the cabinets this week, it means Bowe can finish next week.
The sink works fine. The dishwasher not so much. Since Bowe came on Christmas Eve morning to hook them up, I’m ok with waiting a bit longer for the dishwasher. Will buy paper plates and bowls. Wash pans and cutlery in the sink.
Usually have my window wide open at night. Had to close it. My down comforter and electric blanket couldn’t keep up with the chill breeze. 3 am.
Love Helje’s work. Sweet. Evocative of a hidden world. Wintry. Scandinavian.
With Kep and Rigel next to me I was a Rocky Mountain version of this print.
The year spread. I’ve discovered these spreads with more than three or four cards are hard to summarize. I’ll try to condense the surprising and upbeat feelings I had after pulling twelve cards, one for each month, and an additional card, the first one I drew, for the year’s energy.
Seven of Bows “This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” Not hard to see how this energy will fill the entire next year.
Already underway with the kitchen remodel and the rest of the redecorating. What else in my life needs pruning? What needs to be added?
Other information from this spread: I’ll post these cards as the months change and comment them then, but I want to focus on two this morning, the cards for April, when Kate died, and August, when she was born.
The April card is the Forest Lovers, number 6 in the major arcana. The August card is the final card of the major arcana, The World Tree.
April
“The Forest Lovers represent balance in the relationship and the gender link between the two heterosexuals. This Wildwood Tarot card contains the love of nature for humans, of both the ecosystem and each individual. We are the mysterious fractions of the universe.”
We lived in Andover as the Forest Lovers, eager for Spring and the growing season. Now Kate stands hand in hand with my anima, the three of us around the birch with green life reaching up toward the Sky. Her death transformed her from a mate to a spiritual presence in my inner garden. We tend it together.
August
“As a symbol of the bridge of consciousness between the great universe in outer space and the small universe inside every human mind. The World Tree marks the end of The Wanderer’s trip and the starting point for another journey. The Wanderer began his journey around The Wheel with an innocent, passionate curiosity. It is the journey that has brought wise experiences, along with the gift of knowledge. Now, The Wander is taking the final steps along the path of the maze of life, entering the heart of The World Tree to become an integral whole with the cosmic memory.”
In the month of Kate’s birth, her 78th birthday, the Tarot deck offers both of us the completion of our journey together, one we lived as guardians of the earth and seekers of justice. I’m imagining my grieving will change in August of next year. A fullness, a celebration of our life together. She has gone through the small door in the World Tree as I will one day. We are physically separate, but spiritually one.
Enough for now. Look for the first card in the spread, The Ace of Bows, for January on Saturday.
Where is Webb? Now at a sedate .7860 miles per second, the Webb is 2 days into its journey to L2. 232000 miles from Earth and 667000 miles from orbital insertion.
Monday gratefuls: The Webb’s long journey. Boyish wonder. Our own long journeys. Adult enthusiasm. Jodi coming today to settle on backsplash. Ode and his positive covid rapid test. May he be well. Elizabeth, too. Snow. Sort of. The end of this wretched year approaching. Kep nudging me this morning. Money in the bank. Cooking. A bit.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tarot
Tarot: 2022 spread. More later.
Herme and me
The Mayans had five useless days at the end of each calendar year. Unlucky, too. Don’t start new projects. Be careful. When I worked as a Presbyterian church executive, I took these days off. Had a research theme. Did that. Nobody wants somebody from the Presbytery (think Roman Catholic diocese) around the week after Christmas. My theme for this week: Tarot and Astrology and Quantum Mechanics. No, really.
The Tarot has already begun. My year of digging deeper into Tarot. Using the Wildwood Deck. Its associations with the Great Wheel. Reading. Doing spreads. Reading for others. Email or text me if you want a Tarot card reading. I’m learning and would appreciate the chance to practice.
I created a Barrow spread for the Winter Solstice. It said I needed to remain rooted in my solitude, my hermitage, until the fire returns. I accept that as wisdom from my inner guide. Probably means I’ll stay here through the winter, getting the house finished, getting back to work on Jennie’s Dead or a new writing project. Maybe another take on Lycaon.
A new Tarot year calendar has suggested a 12 card spread for the year 2022. Going to do that one today. When I’m finished writing this.
Astrology. Though I’ve read more and done more with astrology, I fell much further behind on the learning curve than I do with Tarot. Signed up for the next Torah and the Stars class. We’ll focus more on our birth charts. I’m working on a friend’s chart, too, though I don’t feel comfortable doing much with it yet.
In the same spirit of Tarot, if you’d like me to look at your birth chart and give you some feedback, let me know your time of day, location, and date of your birth. I’ll run a chart for you.
The quantum mechanics is for the Sefer Yetzirah class I’m also taking next term. Quantum mechanics and so much of what has been called occult may have connections. I say may have because I’m too ignorant of either quantum theory or the occult to have an opinion. Talk to me in three months and I might have something to say.
My buddy Ode has Covid. He’s boosted and I hope its Omicron. Still, he’s 77. In good health, yes, but… This whole damned thing has gone on way too long. Way too long.
I’ve got a year spread to do, then I’m going downstairs to straighten up a bit before Jodi and the housecleaners come. Jodi and I still have to decide on the backsplash but wanted to wait until the counter top was in place.
Tuesday gratefuls: My slab, all fabricated, comes home. Jodi and Blue Mountain Kitchens. Jon. Birthday dinner at the Black Hat tonight. The darkest, longest, deepest night. Yule. The Winter Solstice. First tarot reading. Max, growing.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fabrication
Tarot: going to create my first Celtic holiday spread, a Winter Solstice one. I’ll report later. This is the first day in my year long study of the Wildwood deck in particular and Tarot in general.
The quartzite fabricator has met his schedule, bless him. He will be here today to put in my new counter top. This is the piece I chose, the more expensive one, because I didn’t want the next few years working on a counter top I’d settled for. Excited to see it in place. Coming around 9 or 10.
Brian, the cabinet maker? Not so much. Looks like the promise of my kitchen coming home by Christmas ain’t gonna happen. My friendly cynic Alan predicted this. I chose to believe. Sigh.
I have asked Jodi if she can have Bowe come and connect my new sink and dishwasher if we’re going past this week.
Jon and I will attempt a reprise of the birthday dinner. I’m looking forward to it. Black Hat Cattle Company. I’ve had great meals and horrible meals there. Hope this is a good one. Planning to try to get a better bead on how he’s doing, where he’s going. With the family in the picture I’m feeling easier about him and about us.
Did my first ever Tarot reading yesterday for Luke, the Executive Director of Beth Evergreen. The Tree of Life spread I learned from Mark Horn. It was both harder and easier than I had imagined.
Harder in that I kept wondering what I’d say next. Each card has its own meaning and that meaning has a link with the sephirot on which it falls. My knowledge of the cards is still very sketchy and my knowledge of kabbalah, though better, is very far from deep.
Easier in that I found I could go from the images on the card and my understanding of the sephirot to questions that brought a point of reflection home to Luke. I think I talked too much and knew too little. Other than that, I’d give myself an attaboy for the first reading.
The Winter Solstice. The beginning of Yule. It’s my favorite time of the year! Darkness. Gets a bad rap. The longest night is as important to our soul as the longest day is to our crops. I think of this day as the culmination of the promise made on September 29th, the Saint’s Day of the Archangel Michael: This is the springtime of the soul!
As the darkness and cold of winter offers us a chance to sit by the fire, get warm, read, dream, the longest night offers us a chance to go as deep as we can into the inner structure of our becoming. Yes. Of course. You can do so at other times; but this day, this night reminds us of how deep we can go, how much of our life happens in darkness occulted even to our own consciousness.
Since I left the Christian ministry in 1991, I’ve stayed steadfast against transcendence as a spiritual goal. It takes us up and out of ourselves, away from this reality, away from life. It also reinforces the idea of a three-story universe with good heaven, to be suffered through earth, and a bad hell. And, with the Roman Catholic hierarchy leading us toward heaven, it has reinforced the patriarchy of Western culture.
In rebelling against transcendence I chose to go down and in, rather than up and out for spiritual sustenance. I wanted to sanctify this world, this place that we know. Existence before essence. That meant I wanted to know what happened in the interior of my life, how it could inform my journey.
So happened that the Great Wheel came into my life at the same time. When I started to write novels, Kate suggested I find something close to me as subject matter. At the time I was learning about the Correls, my Irish ancestors from County Wicklow. I chose to look into the Celts, their history, their mythology, their religion.
I learned so much. The Faery Faith, by Edward Evans-Wentz, took me into the daily, seasonal lives of 19th century Celts still involved with the auld religion. The holidays like Beltane and Samain, Lughnasa. My first awareness of them from this exploration.
Then I discovered the Great Wheel. The expanded Celtic calendar of holidays that includes the solar holidays, equinoxes and solstices, with the cross-quarter holidays peculiar to the Celts: Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasa, and Samain.
The Great Wheel was the key that unlocked the door to my new spiritual path. It’s seasonal and I’m a Midwestern boy attuned to their changes as they relate to the agricultural year. The Great Wheel is an agricultural calendar so it matched my lived experience in the corn and beans belt of central Indiana.
Now, thirty years plus later, I’m growing beyond my rebellion against transcendence. I still don’t want or need its reinforcement of patriarchy, of hierarchy. But. Transcendence can place us in this interconnected web of evolution, a literally universal process happening both in us and outside of us. Transcendence can be the way we come out of the comfort of our own interior to interact with the ongoingness of all things.
The Summer Solstice, the longest day, the promise of the Sun’s energy delivered to plants so that our lives might be sustained, is the holiday of transcendence. A time when we go beyond ourselves, feel beyond ourselves. Live in the web aware of the web.
The Winter Solstice, the longest night, the promise of fecund darkness, of fallow times, of the life that gathers in the dark world of the top six inches of soil, reminds us of our precious particularity, our uniqueness, our once and only time. We go down, down into what Ira Progoff called the Inner Cathedral. We knit together our shadow, our unconscious, our consciousness, go down the inner Holy Well that connects each of us to the collective unconscious. We knit them together, see them for the whole, the distinctive pattern, that is our Self. It’s a both/and, our uniqueness and our can’t get away from it interconnectedness.
Gone on too long. Sorry about that. Can’t wait for night to fall. This night, this Holy, Sacred, Blessed night.
Saturday gratefuls: The Blues shabbat. Kate. Alan. Jamie. Luke. Orgovyx by Fedex. The assistance fund. Prostate cancer. Artificial knee. The lenses in my eyes from cataract surgery. That mended Achilles tendon. My paralyzed diaphragm, left side. Medicine. Zoom. Ruby with a full tank of gas. Cold weather. Snowpack numbers up.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Conflict. Creative tension.
Tarot: ?What do I need to get the most out of this weekend?
Ace of Vessels: The Waters of Life. King of Stones: Wolf. Nine of vessels: Generosity.
3 generations of our family
A three card spread asking the question above occupies most of this post. It’s below. The focus is on Jon and his continuing crisis. Once again the cards evoke archetypal energies, caused reflection at a deep level, and remind all of us involved, Jon and the Johnson sisters and me, to be aware of emotional traps.
Blues Shabbat last night at CBE. I zoomed since it started at 7:30 pm and my chariot transforms to pumpkinhood around 8 pm. Makes attendance at Friday shabbat services a challenge for me. Rabbi Jamie wrote a couple of blues songs and wrote new lyrics to old standards like Stormy Weather. The CBE band had a keyboardist/vocalist, a backup singer, harmonica, drums, and lead guitar.
I appreciated the effort, but the sound on my laptop and the difficulty of getting good sound from the sanctuary to those of us online made listening difficult. I also wish the blues had been more reflective of Jews’ long struggle for safety and community. A little too upbeat for me. But the online crowd loved the show.
Had lunch with Alan. He’s in between eyeballs with cataract surgery. And wondering if some changes are permanent. We’ll find out. I always leave lunch with Alan smiling.
At the shiva for Kate he told me, “It’s going to be my job to get you out of the house.” He’s been true to his word. His kindness and consistency since then has helped me. A lot.
Got in my workout. A new practice now. I look at the day either the night before or the morning of and choose a time during the day for exercise. It has worked so far. When I had a rigid schedule, which I preferred, at least until now, I would be negative when I missed a day. And, I missed some, sometimes a whole week, like last week. I don’t want the negative so I’m going to try some flexibility and being good with what I can get in. My goal is 300 minutes a week. Satisfied with 240. OK with getting some exercise in a tough week no matter the minutes.
Today and tomorrow are study days in addition to family and Ancient Brothers time. Looking forward to it all.
The Path to a good weekend:
@willworthingtonart
Ace of Vessels. Vessels go with the elemental water. Water in the Tarot is emotions. This ace of vessels reminds me that I need to avoid extreme emotions, remain balanced in my response. An important reminder since I have a meal with Jon and the kids at 3:15. And, on Sunday, the Johnson sisters and I zoom with Jon to talk about his financial crisis and how to help him through it. Balanced emotions, clear expression of them, will be key for Jon to get what he needs and for us to do what we can without enabling him. No to enmeshment, co-dependence. Yes to chesed.
@willworthingtonart
King of Stones Stones are with the elemental earth. Earth is the practical, the this-worldly, the reality we can touch and feel. The Wolf is leader of the pack, one who protects, defends, and disciplines. Jon’s crisis calls for protection and defense of him and of the grandkids. We, his family, can do that best by a conservative approach with money, a generous approach with kindness and love. Our response, and his, must be practical, helpful, and timely. The Wolf also reminds us that each of us must make our own way in the Wildwood, but that we can’t do that alone.
@willworthingtonart
Nine of Vessels As the pip cards increase in number so do their expression of the key aspects of their suit. Our emotional response to this weekend must be generous. Kind. Protective. We must all guide ourselves and our emotional response with generosity. Not sure what that generosity looks like in action. TBD. But the nine of vessels in this position means it is the action most needed for a good weekend.
Overall Jon’s situation will bring us closer together as a family. Potentially. If we avoid blaming, anger, disappointment, and yet insist on accountability, responsibility then we can avoid the emotional traps inherent in this kind of discussion. What comes needs to have clarity for Jon and for the family. It needs to give him support and protect the health of the pack, the family. These may be in conflict and will require careful, honest, open conversation. But. If we proceed from a position of generosity of spirit, generosity of attention, and generosity of resources, then all of us can come away from this weekend feeling good about our family and ourselves.
Friday gratefuls: Mussar group. Tears. Lachrimae. Kate, always and still. Cousin Diane. Recovering. Grief. Good grief. Kep with his head on my pillow last night. Final bills for kitchen remodel. Within my budget. As I expected, but was not certain of. Seth Levine. White privilege, black businesses. Together? The American Day of Atonement. January 10th.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grief
Tarot: Eight of vessels: rebirth wildwood tarot
Kate at 16
Grieving. At Toni Haas’ funeral I cried. Empathy with other mourners. Not for her, at least not much since I didn’t know her, only Rabbi Jamie. Perhaps for him. At Mussar yesterday. The conversation turned to being with those who are dying. How can we bring something worthwhile to the death bed?
Michele asked me if Kate and I had talked about her decision to die. Yes. Long, long pause as the memories of that moment filled my heart. Yes, I hate your decision, Kate, but I respect it and believe it is best for you. Now many tears, sobbing. I miss her so much. More tears.
Lachrimae. In the Garden of Gethsemane Jesus wept while asking God to spare him crucifixion. God does not spare him, yet the tears, the lachrimae, had purified his heart. Tears cleanse and refresh our soul. Purify us in the face of something we would rather not have in our life.
So lucky to have a place like mussar where I can cry and feel ok. No need to say sorry. Being held in a quiet container as those moments with Kate flooded through me, draining out and down my cheek.
2014
I feel good that Kate chose to die. It was her decision and it came after a long, long period of suffering, of a life in pain, chronic illness. It relieved me of any guilt.
Now nine months plus later I have a confession to make. At least I don’t think I’ve said this here, or maybe anywhere except in my own head. On the day of her death she had sunk into a morphine induced coma. I left. Sarah stayed with her.
I got a call from Sarah shortly after midnight. She’s gone. I was asleep. BJ came, drove me into the hospital. I saw Kate’s body and it scared me.
The confession is this. I was not there when she died. And I feel terrible that I wasn’t. When he brought me home that late afternoon, Rich Levine asked if I wanted to change clothes and go back. I said no.
I covered up my guilt, even to myself, by saying I didn’t need to be there when she died because I knew how she lived. I call bullshit on that now. I did need to be there and I wasn’t.
Trying to be compassionate with myself. Trying to judge the whole of myself favorably as Rabbi Nachman suggested we do. Looking at myself. I was tired. Beyond tired, exhausted. Spent. The thought of sitting in the hospital room all night was more than I could handle. I needed sleep. So I left.
But I wasn’t there at the end. Folks in mussar were talking about how healing it is to be there when a loved one dies. I know this to be true. I knew it when I decided to leave.
If I look at myself clearly, I was three years of caregiving tired. I had given Kate all I had for a long, long time. It would have been better for me, and maybe, for her if I had been there. I wasn’t. And I don’t know how to console myself about that. Or, maybe it’s inconsolable? Too grievous an insult? No. I don’t believe that. Would not say that to another person.
What would Kate have said? You needed, you deserved the rest. And, you didn’t know when I would die. The doctor said two or three days. You planned to come back in the morning. I know you did. I love you and your not being there doesn’t change that. You were there, too, so many other times.
Eight of Vessels: Rebirth
“Meaning: By looking back at the past, acknowledging our mistakes, and learning from them, we grow and attain a new wisdom. The future awaits to be unfolded as we become the Eighth Vessel and receive powerful rejuvenating energies of rebirth.”
Wildwood Tarot Book
It was a mistake for me to not be with Kate when she died. Yes. It was also the mistake of a man burdened by mourning, by exhaustion, by a real and desperate need for sleep. A man who could not have known the hour of her death.
I will, I imagine, always feel bad about not being there. But. I can forgive myself. Bring chesed to my own soul.
Here’s why the Tarot has begun to resound so powerfully for me. It puts a card of rebirth, of life after mistakes, in my view on this very day.
White River Pukaskwa Jennifer F
A simple pasteboard image, some water, a few copper vessels, rocks like a mountain stream. That’s all. But I know where that eighth vessel hangs in my inner world. It’s beside the rushing waters of the White River in Pukaskwa National Park, Ontario. Lake Superior’s true North Shore.
I’ve hiked many times in that park, finding my way to the White River as it crashes and pounds its way downhill toward the Great Lake. Since my first time there Pukaskwa fired my imagination, my story telling, and now fills my eighth vessel. Reborn. Baptized in the Waters of Wilderness.
Gratefuls: Arrival Day. Snow. Mini-splits. A lower gas bill. A not as high as I expected electrical bill. The house looks good after staining. The mini-splits work well. The kitchen remodel is underway. After that moving furniture, buying a few things for the fireplace room. Settle into a new day, a new life. At Herme’s Place.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow. Maybe 2 inches.
Tarot: Ten of Bows, responsibility.
“A lonely person is carrying ten incomplete bows on his shoulders. He makes his way to the redoubt of hunters and warriors with a struggle but in a determined manner, a heavy burden on his shoulders. Burning flames encourage him to move through the dark forest, showing the path to the bright light of safety and companionship.” tarotx
Another spot on card. Wednesday is my inbox, errands, chores day. The definition of domestic responsibility.I like having only one day. That means I can shunt those tasks to Wednesday without any fear that I’m procrastinating on something important. It will be there on Wednesday.
This card also reminds me of my emerging sense of how to care for Jon, Ruth, Gabe as Grandpop of the Mountain. Feeling my way with a bit more certainty. Joy.
In bed this morning I went over my schedule. It befuddles me right now. Even considered getting a life coach. I’m committed to working out. Have been for a long time. But I prefer it when I can work out consistently. My current plan is four days a week: M/F-HIIT, Lower Body, Core. T/Th 20 minutes Cardio, Upper Body, Core.
What’s been happening. Things get in the way in the mornings, when I had scheduled workouts. Last week I got in no workouts. Didn’t like it. Also, when I did get in my workouts my mornings (starting at 5:45 feeding the dogs) were write Ancientrails, eat breakfast, workout. Done around noon. Then, lunch and a nap.
Here’s the big problem. After the nap, instead of feeling refreshed, I feel like it’s time to start slowing down for the day. I putz around, but if I get up around 3, the dogs want to be fed. I feed them, then me. And I go watch television. I know. But I like television. Even so, I watch more than I would if my schedule worked better.
Here’s what I decided. Feed dogs at 5:45-6. Then, feed them again around noon. I realized that part of my problem was that I felt pressure in the afternoon to do quickly whatever I had time to do. Why? Because I had to get down and feed the dogs. Well, I can change that.
I worked out at 3:30/4:00 pm for years in Andover. Got away from it here partly because the loft gets hot in the afternoons. No more. Mini-splits. I can change my schedule now and have no need to alter it in the spring and summer.
We’ll see. I hope this is one I can maintain, missing fewer workouts. I feel so much better when I workout regularly. The core work, with my post-polio, has become a critical part of my workout, too. The more regular the better.
Hey. Wanna scare yourself? Read this article: “How to Tell When Your Country Is Past the Point of No Return” I’m working through my thoughts, my response to all of this. I understand Edsall’s concerns and those of the academics he quotes. Do I agree? Not sure yet. If you read the article, tell me what you think by e-mail, text, or responding to this post.
My classes are done for the semester. I will pick up two next term: Sefer Yetzirah and Torah for the Stars. The first is the ur-text for Kabbalah. The second a continuation of the astrology work I did this term. One of the reasons I want better control of my schedule is for study. I’ve not done my usual good job of reading ahead, going over notes, doing creative things with what I’ve learned.
Tuesday gratefuls: Marina Harris and Furball Cleaning. Ana and her partner. Conifer Post Office. Mailing Christmas. That retired pre-school teacher I met in line. Meeting strangers. Ali, the Will Smith biopic. Frozen entrees, even if they are a bit boring. The pause in the remodeling. Cousins. Especially, Diane. Mary. Mark. Holiseason. Next up: Winter Solstice.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Yule
Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the Major Arcana
This is the card I’ve chosen as my significator, the one that represents me. It’s why I had Herme made, a way to reinforce the Hermit, the Hooded Man living in his Hermitage.
Here’s what the Wildwood Book says about him: “The Hooded Man stands at the winter solstice point, along with the earth and the sun in the night. This is the time to be alone and contemplate life. This card describes the gates of death and rebirth, deep inside the Earth.”
On the Winter Solstice I plan to start a year cycle with a focus on learning, in as deep a way as I can, the Wildwood Tarot Deck. I’m going to follow it through the Great Wheel, doing a Great Wheel spread each Celtic holiday.
Mountain Path in Spring by Ma Yuan, Song Dynasty
I will walk this path as the Hooded Man, the Hermit. But, also think, the Chinese scholar in his mountain retreat. Thomas Merton in his cell. Any Jew walking the long road from Egypt to the Promised Land. The Celtic saint on peregrinatio. The Hindu man living through Sannyasa. This is the moment when attention turns to the holy, the inner, the sacred. That’s all I mean.
Even so. After enlightenment (no, not saying I’ve got there.) we must wash dishes, cook, pay bills. Not turning away from the world, living in it as a boy of wonder, a man turned toward the heart, toward the Wildwood. Gonna cook a regular Saturday afternoon family meal for my peeps. Use that new kitchen for taking meals to others. And, me too, of course.
Jon and I will try again next week for his birthday dinner. This time he’s coming up here and we’ll go to the Black Hat Cattle Company in Kittredge. Carnivores delight. Cardiologists’ dream restaurant. Good food, well made.
This Seth Levine, New Builders idea keeps itself alive. A sign I need to do something about it. I ordered the book, New Builders. Here’s my idea in a nutshell: Foundry Group (Seth’s venture capital organization) allies itself with a model synagogue, probably a big one like Emmanuel or Mt. Sinai, and a model Black Church, probably like or in fact, Zion which Rabbi Jamie has cultivated as a partner to Beth Evergreen. These three figure out how best to use the resources they each represent to nurture and support New Builder businesses.
If the model proves functional and productive, roll it out to other synagogues, other Black Churches, and invite in the City of Denver’s Economic Development office. The latter will have funds from the Build Back Better initiative.
Then, get to work.
No solution is the One. As in, if we fixed education, everything would be better. If we focus on mental health, we can end homelessness. No.
Yes, of course. Focus on education. Mental health. But, don’t forget jobs, businesses, the capacity to work on your own, for yourself.
I believe economic justice needs to occupy a much bigger slice of our attention than it does. Reparations? I don’t know. Maybe, if it looks like what I’m proposing, that is, a way to underwrite Black creativity and initiative. To go with their ideas, their plans. Help them breathe, live. Forty acres and a mule brought up to date.
Sunday gratefuls: Shabbat. The Morning Service. Rabbi Jamie and his grief. The Minyan. The Snow. The cold. Rigel and Kep try to understand the kitchen remodel. Jon. His long nap. Gabe. Ruth. Sarah and Annie. BJ. Tom. The Ancient Brothers and the gift. Herme. The kitchen. Lower Gas bill.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: A teachable moment. Maybe.
Tarot: Seven of Bows, clearance. wildwood
No chicken pot pies. Yep. Not at Conifer Safeway or the Evergreen Safeway. My favorite. Marie Callender. Confirmed this on the way home from CBE after the Shabbat morning service. Laying in a supply of frozen entrees as the kitchen remodel goes into a caesura while more cabinets get made and the quartzite fabricated.
Jews read, then reread, then reread, then reread the Torah, the first five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. After Sukkot in the fall comes Simchat Torah, joy of the Torah. The reading of the five books ends, then picks up again at Bereshit, Genesis.
This is a qualitative difference between Judaism and Christianity. Christians parse up the “old testament” and the New. Often three short readings readings on a Sunday morning. The result, and I did it for years, is a disjointed sense of the scriptural narrative. The power lies in the hands of the liturgical calendar makers.
vayigash
Even in progressive synagogues like Beth Evergreen a new parsha is read every Sabbath, in a regular sequence. Parsha’s are long. For example, the December tenth parsha was Genesis 47:28–50:26. Vayigash. The result of this reading and reading is to create a shared story, a shared mythology, a tradition that joins all Jews. Cain and Abel, Babel, the Reed Sea, Pharaoh, the Golden Calf, Mt. Sinai, the 631 mitzvot, Moses watching from Mt. Pisgah as others enter the promised land. Each character from Abraham to Aaron has a lesson or lessons to teach, not as dogma but as human choices made in contexts that we still find in our contemporary humanness.
The morning service which I attended yesterday had some wonderful and memorable moments. After six years I still have almost no Hebrew so the chanting and singing in Hebrew appeals to me as music mostly. Rabbi Jamie’s haunting chants take me to a deep place whether I read the English translation or not.
At one point a note suggested we think of a person who loves us and imagine ourselves loved by them. I chose Kate. It helped me. Seeing myself through her eyes gave me a sense of breadth to my life, a sense of what loyalty means to a woman betrayed, a sense of my possibilities as real, rather than hoped for.
Jamie talked about Tony Haas, his mother-in-law, her death last Sunday, the work she did in rural education policy. He lived with her and she died with him and the grandkids around her bed. His love and affection for her was clear, as was his sense of loss. Even 9 months later, today actually, that early grief is so present and available to me. I was with him and his family.
After my unsuccessful journey to the frozen food aisle, I drove back home, up the Snowy and Icy road. Going up is so much easier than going down in those conditions.
At 4:20, after feeding the dogs, I took off for Gaetano’s and Jon’s 53rd birthday dinner. Still feeling a little rough, but much better than Thursday night and Friday. Got there about 5:10 after a puzzling traffic delay on i-70 and surprisingly good memory about how to get to the restaurant without navigation aids.
Jon never came. Later he texted an apology. He had gone to sleep around 2 pm and didn’t wake up until 7 in spite of having set the alarm. His medications and illnesses have variable affects on him. This may have been one.
I had a nice meal on my own, testing something I had not realized I needed to. Eating a nice meal without Kate. I enjoyed the food, but the combination of her absence and the cacophony made me not want to repeat that anytime soon.
Same on the way home. I drove back up Brook Forest and Black Mountain. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. Returning from Evergreen at night in the first couple of weeks we were here. Kate and me. I reached over to her seat, held her hand for a while, felt sad.
It was good to get back home to Kep and Rigel, to the new life I’m making here on the mountain.
Seven of Bows
“This is the time to make decisions and select your priorities. Focus on what you really need in life and things that it’s time for you to drop and cut down, especially if it’s old and broken, no longer fulfilling your needs on a life journey.” The Wildwood book
This is my journey right now. Pruning. Reshaping relationships. Leaning into the good ones. Ameliorating the effects of the not so good ones. Remaking the physical space here. Refining my life over all.