Category Archives: Fourth Phase

Asia, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Korea, Travel

Constraints

1 Comment

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow of the morning. Out in the darkness. Mary in Oz. Mark on the Arabian Desert. My son and Seoah on the Korean Peninsula touching the Sea of Japan. Me in the Arapaho National Forest among the Rocky Mountains. Ruth and Gabe on the High Plains.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Simcha. Joy.        Simcha Torah. Sukkot. Artemis. Shadow. Ablations.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Amazon boxes pile up on my living room floor, two new wastebaskets, terracotta pots for Artemis, a bottle of Calcium plus vitamin D3, healthy snacks like Edamame and popcorn and protein bars, no longer shopping in the physical world (IRL) I have become instead a receiving clerk, checking goods against their invoices, having to dispose of the packaging.

Shut Down: Talked with my son last night. How about those Yankees? He’s a baseball fan, reading the stats, watching games, caring about the playoffs. I’m a fan of him so I pay some attention, enough to know when something of note has happened, like the Yankee’s hyper symbolic loss to the Toronto Blue Jays. Oh, Canada! Tariffs can’t win the game.

We had father and son scans this week. My PET scan. His CT and MRI. He gets semi-annual scans for hepatitis B as I said earlier and this time an MRI for his back. Geez. And we don’t even share DNA. Surveillance, which, oddly is his primary work in Korea.

“I might need some cash, Dad.”

Oh, some financial crisis in his and Seoah’s life? Nope. He’s not getting paid. Because of the government shut down. Oh. Well. His opinion of Congress has hit an all time low. As he points out, they still get paid.

Not to mention all those young men and women he’s responsible for. Many in their late teens. Living off base with kids and rent and refrigerators. And no money.

Grrr.

It’s one thing when the politics of stall and wait are on the front page. News about stuff happening somewhere else. Yankee’s lose! Federal worker’s furloughed. May get back pay. May lose their jobs entirely.

Another thing when your son has car payments, groceries, dog food to buy. When he’s doing that in service to his nation. Then, it’s personal.

Government matters. And ours, especially Congress, has been asleep at the switch for so long. So damned long.

Wake up, America!

Health: My medical October continues this week with a visit to my ophthalmologist. Glaucoma. Then, two trips to Lone Tree for nerve ablations. Doesn’t end until a week from Monday when I visit my oncologist to discuss results of my PET scan. Big fun.

Cousin Diane, who leaves this month for a trip to Peru to see Machu Pichu, had planned to spend time in the Peruvian segment of the Amazon. But. When she saw the travel medicine doc: Nope. She, like almost everybody in the U.S., had not gotten a yellow fever vaccine before age 60. And, for some reason, they no longer work at our advanced ages. No Amazon for Diane.

 

 

Aging, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Work, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Tarot

Keeping it real

Leave a comment

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Synthroid. TSH. Thyroid gland. Shadow, coming in more often, more easily. Who knows? Good workouts. Cook unity. Chewy. Natural Balance. Rabbit Bites. Dog treats and toys. Lidocaine. Mitzvah committee. Luke. Susan. Steve. Dr. Vu. Mountain View Pain Center. Increasing darkness. Artemis.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Magic of the Ordinary

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Malchut.  Wonder. “Wonder is the beginning of wisdom.” Socrates

Tarot: Gonna take a rest here. Has become too routine.

One brief shining:

 

A life in full: Still struggling, beating my soft moth wings against the window of my soul, trying to see if it’s enough, this time, these days. But from the outside looking in. How to sense, how to live from my nefesh rather than looking in, wondering if its purpose has become real. Velveteen Rabbit real.

Have I loved my nefesh enough, carried it in my five-year old arms from bedroom to living room, into the car, often onto the playground. Have I told it the stories of my five-year old heart which wondered about dogs and spiders and Mom and that new baby. Do I listen to it now, a grown and old man, for the wisdom of its unique path?

Only to live my tao. My way. That is it. To follow the watery course of my buddha nature as it flows downward from the peak altitude of my birth, through the canyons and valleys of my life, to the wide ocean of our collective unconscious, where it becomes one again with the tao.

You know, I have. My velveteen soul has expressed itself often, guided my neshama as the world of experience shaped me against the anvil of my true self. However I feel about myself in one joy filled or angst filled moment, however you may feel about me, peering in from the abyss between us, I have remained true (of course not always which is nonetheless also part of my tao) to that five-year old’s tender, wonder-filled embrace of an often puzzling and frightening world.

Which means, I feel, that this time filled with the dog, the greenhouse, books and movies, study and esoterica, friends and faraway family, ancientrails, medical this and medical that, is  on that path. Is not a deviation but a continuation in the idiom of today’s possibilities.

So. Why not let it be. Mother Mary, come to me. Whisper words of wisdom. Let it be.

 

Just a moment: I’ve let the activist go dormant while l dealt with cancer and sick, dying Kate, then mourning followed by Jon’s death and a close group hug with Ruth and Gabe.

The rhythm of a life lived in love and in awareness. The activist cannot return, not as he was. Again, a rhythm.

And yet. I see this: He got an entire country running on clean energy. Can he do it again?. My commitment to the Great Work, creating a sustainable presence for humans on Mother Earth cheers. Wants to duplicate, triplicate, over and over and over until we walk again with the sun, the wind, the tides, the heat of Mother’s inner core.

 

 

 

Aging, Far Right, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics

An Overly Medicalized Life

1 Comment

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Close friends Tom, Paul, Mark, Bill, Alan, Tara, Marilyn and Irv, Rich, Ginny and Janice, Luke. Shadow. Artemis. Rain, Rain, come again. Monsoons. Yes. Cool nights. Days of Awe. Mark with the Camels, Goats, and Sheep. In Hafar. The Burger King at the U.N. “…it was foreign affairs journalist Ishaan Tharoor who captured the larger story of Trump’s speech. “A senior foreign diplomat posted at the U.N. texts me,” Tharoor wrote, “‘This man is stark, raving mad. Do Americans not see how embarrassing this is?’” quoted by Heather Cox Richardson

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Long, cool Rains

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and Wonder

Tarot: Five of Pentacles, (Druid Craft)

  • Endurance of personal hardship: The card focuses on the endurance of the solitary journey through a desolate landscape. The message is to face and acknowledge the difficulty of the situation rather than ignore it. 

One brief shining: The five of pentacles recommends facing and acknowledging the difficulty of my situation rather than ignoring it; sound advice, I’d say, yet when the situation requires constant acknowledgment, persistent recognition a resilience fatigue can-and at times-does manifest, a weakening of resolve, of the head down, keep pushing attitude I try to maintain.

 

The Burger King and the U.N.: Hangs head in shame. In case you haven’t seen this, I’m appending a youtube collection* of clips from his remarks at the U.N. Thanks, Mark.

“I hate my opponents. I do not wish the best for them.” DJT at Charlie Kirk’s memorial service. “Out of control migration is ruing your countries. Your countries are going to fail.” Speaking to representatives of the world’s nations at the U.N. “I’m really good at this,” he said.

Dear leader needs to get on a heavily armored train, build a bridge across the Bering Sea, and go visit his buddy Kim Jong Un whom he praised to South Korea’s President during a recent visit. Then we can blow up the bridge and leave him in the Hermit Kingdom.

 

Feelings: A long gauntlet of medical matters. Next week the lidocaine injections that will guide the nerve ablations two weeks later. Four appointments in all. On October 8th a P.E.T. scan to see what might have caused my PSA to move up a titch. Follow up appointments with my pain doc and my medical oncologist.

When these matters have been handled for now, I plan to move on to the neck brace for my wobbly head. Also, Maddie has follow-up calls with Panorama Orthopedics about my torn labrum.

At times, like last night, I push myself into a dark corner. I compare myself with others my age, what they’re doing with their lives. Tom and ESI. Bill and his present moment approach to life. Paul with his hospice work, political organizing, and Maine Humanities Council. Mark visiting his friends, working on his art. I’m not doing anything comparable.

That sends me into a tailspin. Not self-berating, rather a wistfulness for the time when I had the energy to get out there. Sadness about the truncated, overly medicalized life I’m living. That’s why the message from the Five of Pentacles lands with a thud.

 

 

Aging, Family, Far Right, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Holidays, Judaism, Politics

Teshuva

1 Comment

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow’s regression. Her sweetness. Cool, Rainy, Dark morning. Rosh Hashanah. L’shana Tova. The beauty of Shadow. Rain. Sweet Tomatoes. Great workout yesterday. Working out. Prolia. Bone health. Tramadol and acetaminophen. Yum. Beavers, nature’s engineers. Lodgepoles. Aspen gold. A Mountain Fall well underway.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Fourth Wing

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe and Wonder

Tarot: #17, The Star

  • Connection to intuition: The imagery encourages listening to your inner guidance. In the Druid Craft deck, this is an act of “coming home to yourself” and being true to your core essence.
  • Renewed purpose: This card can signal a deep spiritual awakening or a renewed sense of purpose. It reminds you that you are connected to the greater cosmic and natural world. 

One brief shining: Rain has pelted down overnight, the Air cool and moist, temperature in Artemis down to 55, outside the comfort range for Tomato ripening, the Rain though, the Monsoons, have given us surcease from Fire, made the Mountain Meadows and Lodgepole covered slopes green, and given the Aspens reason to respond to its Midas touch.

 

Tarot and Rosh Hashanah: Teshuva, often translated as repentance, is the main point of the Jewish new year. We greet the new year with a soul refreshed and cleansed. I prefer the word return as its translation.

In that sense of teshuva the major arcana of the Star correlates well: “an act of “coming home to yourself” and being true to your core essence.” When we perform teshuva, we return, as one sage put it, to the landscape of our soul. To do that we have to clear away the schmutz, accretions to our self that block our nefesh soul from shining through.

Nefesh, buddha nature, true self. Who you are as an extension of the sacred. Your core essence. I love that the Star showed up for me on the 1st day of Rosh Hashanah.

I’m coming to believe that my life as I live it now is my core essence. Time with family and friends. Intentional conversations each week with those I love. Seeing the ancient friends on Sunday morning. Reading. Studying. Playing with Shadow. Co-creating with Great Sol, the soil, and Artemis. Living in the Mountains. Living a Jewish life through mussar, the men’s group, Talmud Torah, saying the Shema, touching the mezuzahs, celebrating holidays. Also through my many friendships at CBE. Writing Ancientrails. My ancientrail.

In other words my teshuva snaps me back to this Shadow Mountain life. One lived with kavannah, intention, connected to the past, alive to the present, accepting of the future. A good feeling and one on target for this 5786th Rosh Hashanah.

 

Just a moment: We need to call out red tie guy’s lies. At every opportunity. No tip toeing around this Burger King tyrant. Kick him in the shins each he says crime is out of control. Each time he says stealing money from the poor to give to the rich will make America great. Each time he demeans transgender folks. Each he claims the insurrection was a peaceful protest.

No Kings. October 18th.

The left Reverend Dr. Israel Herme Harari

Aging, Feelings, Fourth Phase

My life. Now.

1 Comment

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark in Hafar again. Writing with his students. Shadow, bone lover. Rabbi Jamie. CBE. Evergreen High School. Marilyn and Irv. Artemis. Her children. Hello darkness, my old friend. Mystery. Awe. Sacred. Divine. Everyday life. The Shadow Docket. The Fed. Red Tie Guy. Our poor benighted nation.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cooling temperatures

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Derech Eretz. The way of the land

Tarot: Seven of Pentacles, (Druid Craft)

  • Patience and perseverance: While you may not see the final results yet, the card affirms that your consistent effort will pay off. 
  • Harvest and reward: The card signals that a significant, long-term reward is coming. 

One brief shining: A Druid in a green cloak takes his golden sickle to harvest mistletoe from a standing oak, embracing the mistletoe, green even in winter, as evidence of eternal life, dropping it on a white cloth below the tree before offering it up in rituals for healing, fertility, and protection.

 

Life review: Constant, chronic pain and carrying my own personal assassin push life review into bleak moments. When bending over or playing too hard with Shadow or standing too long cooking, or when an intense hot flash brings nausea with it, pain or the side effect from medications make me pause. Is this the day, the moment, when life goes into full decline?

What follows. A quick look back. If this is an inflection point, what have I done? What could (sometimes should) I do with the time I have left?

These are common questions for those of us in our late seventies and eighties. I’m telling you what brings them up for me. Of late I’ve wondered if I’m doing enough (of what?) right now. Is there work that could/should fill those empty afternoon hours?

Mornings start around 4:30 to 5:00 for Shadow and me. We do some training. She goes outside. I write Ancientrails which takes around two hours with illustrations and revisions. Sometimes I finish before I feed Shadow at 6:30, sometimes not.

Because dogs (and me) like routine, I stop at 6:30, scoop three half cups of Natural Balance Lamb and Brown Rice into her bowl, then sit down and feed it to her by hand, a practice recommended by Natalie. After that, my pre-workout routine, then a half an hour to forty-five minutes of cardio and resistance.

Around 8 am four days a week I have zoom conversations. After those, I may have a doctor’s appointment, lunch with a friend. On Friday mornings, most times, Alan or Alan and Joanne. Breakfast.

Some weeks Tara comes with Eleanor, or Ginny and Janice with Annie and Luna. Thursday at one is mussar, either zoom or in person. Shabbat mornings, often Bagel Table to study Torah or the Morning Service.

I spend some time each day with Artemis, checking on Kale, Spinach, Beets, Carrots, Nasturtiums, and Tomatoes. At least twice a day I go outside and play with Shadow.

The rest? The news. NYT. Washington Post. Substacks. Heather Cox Richardson. The Atlantic. Reading, both serious and not. Some TV. Perhaps a movie. Food preparation, too.

As I wrote this, realizing I have full mornings, other times during the week with friends, with study both in groups and in private, with the routines of self care, my life feels full.

My looks back tend to be brief. First, I know I can’t change the past. Second, I long ago decided my life has had plenty of oomph. I was able to work always within my principles and values. I had concrete accomplishments. Raised a son. Loved three women enough to marry them. A couple of others, too. Worked on my damaged psyche well enough to point myself forward.

So. Enough. Enough. Daiyenu.

 

Asia, Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, Travel

Now, not so other

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Natalie. Mussar. Luke and Leo. Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Tara. Eleanor. Paul and Findlay. Jim Butcher, a summer’s entertainment. PSA. Testosterone. Kailie. Marny Eulberg. Dr. Buphati. Shadow, her mornings. Mine. The darkness increasing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Western Medicine

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ometz Lev. Strength of the heart. The inner strength to move forward. Courage.

Tarot: #0, The Fool (Druid Craft)

  • Optimism and trust: Have confidence that you have everything you need to begin this new phase. The Fool’s lack of baggage is a strength, not a weakness.
  • Living in the moment: This card encourages you to enjoy the process and worry less about the future. It’s a reminder to approach life with childlike wonder.
  • Embracing your inner eccentric: The Fool operates outside conventional rules and norms. Your unique approach to life is to be celebrated. 

One brief shining: Ate the last of the hard boiled eggs with a bit of the regenerative farming sourced dried steak, some mayonnaise, and a banana after I finished my workout, a leg and core day using exercises from Halle, who now works in Dallas, a bit of cardio, another full morning.

 

Health: In somewhat new territory. My PSA rose to .3 from .19. Not a huge rise, certainly not a doubling which always gets attention. Even so, it’s not the direction I want. Probably means another blood draw on Monday as a check, then another one 4-6 weeks later.

At some point, maybe now, I become the Fool on another stage of this eleven year long cancer path. The Fool reminds me to take even this possibility as part of the process. A part that does not suppress seeing the world with childlike wonder. Live until l die.

Mountain View Pain called and scheduled my lidocaine injections, October 1st and 2nd. Left side, right side. The lidocaine anesthetizes my lumbar nerves. Seeing if numbing those nerves stops my pain. That guides the upcoming nerve ablations on October 15th and 16th. Those ablations plus the butran patch should knock down most of my pain. May it be so.

a bit corny, yet…

I feel ok about all of this. Part of living with chronic pain and a terminal illness. I did choose ometz lev as my week kavannah knowing my PSA could change. Strength of heart, the inner strength to move forward. I needed it when I read that number yesterday. And, I had it. I did sit for a minute, looking out my upstairs window as a car went by on Black Mountain Drive, considering my alone but not lonely life.

 

Just a moment: The Chinese military Parade. Modi, Putin, Xi Jinping, and Kim Jong Un. A world without us. My son close by in South Korea. Seoah, too. And, the Jangs.

Asia used to seem so far away, so exotic, so other. Then Mary went to K.L. Mark to Bangkok. Kate, my son, and I to Beijing.  Mary to Singapore. My trip to Singapore, Bangkok, Angkor Wat.  Then my son to Korea where he met Seoah. Kate and I to South Korea and Singapore. Later, my son and Seoah to Singapore.   My trip to South Korea. Still far away, now not so other, though often still exotic.

 

 

Dogs, Family, Far Right, Fourth Phase, Greenhouse, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History

Paying For It. Right Now.

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Kate, always Kate. Gabe, thinking of her, thinking of me without her. He and Ruth driving up here yesterday. Oyama. Sushi, our common ground for food. Our conversations. About two college girls on their own in an apartment. About senior sunrise, which Gabe is doing right now.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids.

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: The Forest Lovers, #6

One brief shining: Hammer in hand, I drove four nails into Artemis, two on each outside raised bed, pulled out a length of twine, long, cut it from the spool and tied loose knots around Squash Plant Vines under a branch for strength, attaching the twine to the first nail, looping it, and the second nail, a tight note, redirecting the Squash toward the ground so its large fruits will not occupy the raised bed, robbing the Kale, Spinach, and Beets of Great Sol’s light.

 

Yesterday I wondered what I might do to celebrate Kate’s birthday. Last year I took myself out to dinner at Evoke 1923, ordered oysters for an appetizer, and discovered a pearl. Hard to top that.

Yet, it happened. Gabe thought of me, texted Ruth in Longmont. She contacted me and we soon had a lunch plan for a sushi place in Golden. That morning, yesterday morning, Shadow got me up at 3:30 am, and my back acted up early.

Ruth was ok with driving the extra half hour up here. (I paid for her gas.) They got here to the Mountain home around 11:30. We ate lunch at Oyama, a local sushi spot.

In honor of Kate I ordered a tempura bento box. When the rest of us, Jon, Ruth, and I, would go to a sushi place, she made do by ordering tempura. She was more a prime rib or tenderloin sorta gal.

Discovered, again, why I don’t order it for myself. Too dense. Too heavy. Still, Kate’s memory.

We came back to Shadow Mountain, talked some more. Toured Artemis and her amazing Tomatoes, her Spinach, Kale, Beets, and Squash. Everything that’s growing has done well over the last couple of weeks.

Gabe carried two bags of gardening Soil out to her for me. Something only a few years ago I could have done under one arm. Sigh.

 

Me and my Shadow: Yesterday I laid down for a nap (up at 3:30, remember?) and didn’t call Shadow for naptime. I wanted to get to sleep and sometimes she wakes me up.

I turned on the oxygen concentrator, cranked the fan up another turn, and went to sleep. When I woke up, Shadow had curled her body next to my pillow. Fast asleep. Oh. Well.

 

Just a moment: I read this Atlantic article yesterday, How Ivy League Admissions Broke America. I found the author’s argument not only persuasive, but possibly a way forward. He shows how an intentional change by Harvard to admissions based on intelligence rather than family lineage created an unhealthy distortion in our whole education system. The valorizing of intellect über alles.

We pushed away the bakers and candlestick makers, the steelworkers and the factory workers, farriers and dress makers. Placed them on a lower social rung. We’re paying for that right now.

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Men, Shadow Mountain

Waking up

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Professor Luke. Leo, the old. Tuscany Tavern. Rabbi Jamie. Irv. Joe. CBE men’s group. Rain. Hard Rain. Mountains Green. Those forty plus Elk Cows eating Grass in Elk Meadow. Three young Elk Calves crossing with their Mothers. Waiting on them to cross the highway. Mountain Life. Shadow inside when I got home.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Elk of Evergreen

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, the Eel

One brief shining: Rain pelted down as I drove up Shadow Mountain last night, the Air heavy and cool, while the waning light from Great Sol’s shabbat appearance outlined Conifer Mountain and Black Mountain in the mist. Shadow was inside and dry.

 

Yesterday was busy. By my standards. These days. Even though my breakfast with Alan canceled. He has a cold.

At 11:30 into Evergreen. Tuscany Tavern. Professor Colaciello, He starts teaching chemistry tomorrow at Metro Community College. This was a congratulatory lunch. At his choice of spots.

He explained his plans. “I’m going to open with, Chemistry is the science of transformations!” He has five demonstrations to follow that sentence. One using oil and water. Another using a combustible powder that he holds in his palm. A lighter. Why didn’t it flame up? Then he sprinkles it over the lighter and whoosh. Oxygen.

Dry Ice in Water. With a ph strip. The water becomes acidic as the dry Ice dissolves. Showing his dental hygienist students why carbonated liquids can destroy tooth enamel.

Later in the week, in a mildly ironic moment, he will teach his first class in the Chemistry of Cannabis. It’s an industry here and the industry requires educated workers. Part of the track for budding professionals.

Leo sat on the patio with us as we talked, ate our lunch.

 

Home for a nap with my Shadow girl.

Out to King’s Valley and Bear Park Road to pick up Irv for the CBE men’s group. Turn around and drive back to Evergreen to the Synagogue.

Only four of us. Joe Greenberg. Jamie. Irv. And myself. The topic. How to be with someone suffering from depression.

The smaller group allowed us to go deeper than we might have otherwise. Each of us had either been depressed or had a close family member who was, or had been. Not surprising.

Accompanying. Being with the person. Not trying to cheer them up or fix them, but acknowledging their pain. Letting them know you care for them. Realizing that depression has its own logic, never visible to those on the outside.

I shared my experience of waking up a couple of months ago to my dysthemia over the early months of this year. Chronic pain. Struggles with Shadow. Uncertainty about what was going on with my cancer.

When Kate was alive, she had this job, given to her by my analyst, John Desteian. She would say to me, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That would help me wake up, earlier. Kate’s gone now. Had to wake myself up. Harder.

 

Fourth Phase, Health, Tarot

Bracing

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ginny and Janice. Annie and Luna. Shadow and friends. Warmish morning. Beets growing taller. Spinach spreading its still small leaves. Kale as well. Tomatoes fruiting. Growing. Waiting on Soil for the East facing bed. Marny Eulberg. Post-polio syndrome. Post-polio survivors. Like me. Her butterfly garden.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My neck muscles that have worked so hard all these years

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good

Tarot: The Journey, #13 of the major arcana

One brief shining: Bend your neck to the left, now press against my hand, bend to the right, press against my hand, put your chin on your chest, oh yes, you can only go 10 degrees to the left but almost 40 to the right. Thank you, Marny.

 

Health: Yesterday was post-polio day. I drove down to Wheatridge, a charming place to my surprise, with brick homes, old businesses in older buildings, tree-lined streets. Marny’s home was on a cul-de-sac with five other large houses. Hers stood out because her front yard has a Butterfly Garden instead of Grass. I liked her already.

She met me at the door, her right leg braced, a slight hitch in her step. Gray-haired, a bit plump, with a red t-shirt featuring an Elephant. A grandma, crone figure.

Inside a large open room with a tiled floor, a kitchen area and a living area together. Her dog, a friendly cockapoo with an absurdly long tail licked my hand.

At her invitation I sat at her kitchen table. Two old folks, survivors of the pre-1950 polio epidemic. She handed me some literature about post-polio organizations including one in Colorado.

She read my answers to her new patient three page form, asking me questions as she did. No, no surgeries. Yes, breathing support. Iron lung.

She had me take off my t-shirt and manipulated my neck. All this to create a prescription for the orthotist. A brace-maker. She showed me examples. Similar to one’s used for people who’ve broken their neck. I like this one. Minimalist.

Not sure how often I’ll use whatever one I get. Driving. Yes. In the backyard with Shadow. Yes. Because I tend to walk with my head down I run into Lodgepole Branches. If I get enough pain recession, while hiking. Maybe even at meetings later in the day when my muscles wear down.

I need to have it though because my neck has gotten worse over the past year. Maybe I’ll get comfortable enough with it to wear it more often.

 

Tarot: The Journey. #13 on the Wanderer’s spiritual path through the Wildwood. A little over midway. The Journey card acknowledges death as a part of life’s journey, the end of a life. I can take it at its most literal since the end of my journey has come closer and closer. True of all of us in our late seventies. A step along the way.

I can also take the card as a sign of inner change. Accepting my disabilities. Back pain. Neck atrophy. Accepting my prostate cancer and its own destination. This is, come to think of it, my year kavannah, my intention to live fully into wu wei. Going with life as it presents itself. Going with flow. This is where the winding stream of my life has brought me and I’m fine with letting this kayak bob and weave on its remaining bends and pools and rapids.

 

Ancient Brothers, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Humanities, Poetry, Politics, Seed Keepers, US History, World History

Ways Forward

Leave a comment

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Waning gibbous Moon. Morning Darkness. Shadow. Father of Shadows. Great Sol. Artemis and her children. Heirloom Vegetables. Raised beds. Co-creation. Gardening. Kate, always Kate. Bee keeping. The Atmosphere. The Troposphere. Space. The International Space Station. The Hubble. The Web. Exoplanets. Distant Suns. Galaxies. Black Holes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadows

Year Kavannah: Wu wei

Week Kavannah:  Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the Good

Tarot: The Seer, #2

One brief shining: The boiler turns itself on, feeding hot Water into the hot Water tank while open windows let cool Air flow in and over my chair, my feet the chair chosen by Kate supporting me while I write.

 

Hakarat Hatov: Recognizing the good. Luke’s joy at getting an associate Professorship in Chemistry. His care for Leo. Rabbi Jamie’s creative teaching. Tom’s quiet confidence. Ode’s sketchbooks. Bill’s everyday kindnesses. Paul’s serious joy.

As Paul said on Sunday, if we seek Hakarat Hatov, goodness abounds in everyday life, no matter the bitter and ugly transformation of our government. Too easy to focus on the doom, let ourselves fall into despair. Don’t ignore it, no, but also recognize the ordinary good all around.

 

Just a moment: A way forward. Storm Before the Calm by George Friedman. Amy, my audiologist, echoing a similar idea. She knows folks she said, progressives, who want to return to the Obama era. No, she says, MAGA has revealed too many cracks (her word. I might go with chasms, abysses.) in the U.S. There’s no going back Amy went on. What we have to do is survive these years, then build something new, something that takes into account the MAGA reveals.

I agree with her and with Friedman. The excesses of the Gilded Age, which Trump apparently has in mind, led to the progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt, the trust buster.

Or, we could also call this late stage capitalism wherein the oligarchs gather so much money unto themselves that the rest of us have too little to power the consumer economy.

Greed cometh before a fall. As Gordon Gecko showed us.

 

Learning: Higher education and in particular the Humanities have suffered hit after hit as the conservative mortar crews have begun to walk in their ordnance, finding the bunkers and trenches of Renaissance and Enlightenment thought with their “anti-semitic” coded explosives.

I no longer fear the elimination of Humanities courses. Why? Because Thucydides and Beowulf and O’Neil and Whitehead and Mozart and Caravaggio do not live in the academy. They live in those who seek to understand their own humanity, the ways forward when faced with a culture shattered by avarice and base fears.

We and mine will still read the Iliad to understand how one man’s rage can cost the lives of thousands, even millions with today’s WMDs. We will also return to multiple perspectives as modeled by Impressionist, Expressionist, Abstract, and Realist painters and sculptors. We will embrace a world characterized by the metaphysics of becoming, of a One always in process, over the split apart world of Cartesian metaphysics.

The Humanities will not, cannot disappear because they are us at our best, self critical. learning from the vast deposit of human lives already lived.