Category Archives: Fourth Phase

Fourth Phase, Friends, Judaism, Kabbalah, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Week Ahead

December 6, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Monday gratefuls: Ancient Brothers. Da rhythm. Of our lives. Kep and Rigel, a two dog snugged close night. Brian bringing the new cabinets. TSA prechek. Herme coming home. Jon’s 53rd birthday this Friday. Going to Gaetano’s. 20 degrees this morning. Still no Snow.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cabinets, new

Tarot: three of bows-fulfillment

henry moore nuclear energy. I spent a mescaline evening crouched inside this monument to Enrico Fermi’s splitting of the atom. 1969.

A full week. Learning to husband my energy. Stamina still less than pre-androgen deprivation therapy. Though. I think grief takes its toll on energy, too.

Decided to take not liking the security line at the airport off the table. Going to TSA Prechek this morning to apply. Lot of documents required since I changed my name when I married Raeone. That’s in downtown Denver at 11:40.

After that it’s over to Morry’s Neon to pick up Herme. Where will I put him while the remodel is going on? Maybe in the garage.

TSA is the exit before Pena Blvd which heads into DIA. A long ways from here. Guess it makes sense it would be close to the aeropuerto.

While emptying kitchen cabinets yesterday I got briefly overwhelmed with sadness. A few tears. BJ said that when she talked with Kate in the hospital last April, Kate told her we intended to remodel the kitchen. It was the we that got me. I no longer have that we.

Our we lived in those conversations. Remodel the kitchen? Pizza for dinner? How can we help Gabe and Ruth? What book did you like best? Do you remember when you were 6? And the memories of those conversations held in the others bank of the past. For retrieval if somehow forgotten by one of us.

Drains a lot of energy. Those moments. Yet I welcome them. I feel her with me. The vitality and presence of our time together. Palpable. Almost. So if you walk in on me and my eyes are a bit red and puffy, you’ll know Kate’s come for a visit.

Though. If you see me smile, grin with no seeming referent, you’ll know she’s come, too. I’m widowed to Kate. Forever more.

Tom Crane comes on Wednesday. We’ll hang out, talk about life and love, death and life phases. We’ll also have brunch with Irv and Marilyn Saltzman at Aspen Perks.

Tomorrow I take Jon for his colonoscopy/endoscopy. Searching for reasons behind his loss of 40 pounds over the last few months. On Friday I’ll take him to Gaetano’s. I may take Roger with me, but I’ll clip him to Jon if I do. Not gonna give’m two.

Bowe comes tomorrow to remove the old cabinets. Thursday to install the ones Brian delivers today. Then, a three week wait while the quartzite fabricator measures twice and cuts once, delivers and installs. After that, another wait because the backsplash decision is going to wait on the Taj Mahal slab. To check colors with the new counter in place. Maybe up to three weeks, but better to have it right than to guess.

Hanukkah is done. The menorah’s cleaned out. Candles put away. Presents distributed. Next up. The Winter Solstice. The holiday of holidays in my world.

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

Insight. Important.

December 5, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Gratefuls: Samain and Winter, my favorite time of the year. Holiseason. Cranking up speed. Paul. 75 years! Charlie H. A reprieve! Another beautiful Colorado Day. High Fire danger since July. New cabinets arriving on location tomorrow. TSA prechek. Hanukkah presents from the Johnson (and my) sisters. Delightful. Gabe, Ruth helping unload cabinets, clearing out the sewing room. Joan Nathan’s chicken stew. Ham and cheese on sourdough. The Meme game.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That family feeling

Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the major arcana

“The Hooded Man stands at the winter solstice point on December 21, 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.

After the difficulties and tribulations when confronting the ancient forces, we need a moment of calm and reflection on life.

The Hooded Man (The Hermit, Robin – i – The – Hood, the hermit in the deep forest) will bring persistent light in the middle of the winter as well as use his wand to dig deep and accumulate knowledge. His lantern illuminates the darkest frightening crises in every soul, repels misunderstandings, and opens the way to the door to The Great Tree. He knows that knowledge is the light and can only be cultivated through self-sacrifice and self-discipline. He points out the secrets of the deep forest and helps those seeking ways to cultivate their minds to go deeper into the forest. The Great Tree is one of the symbolic powers of the forest, which contains countless secrets and treasures of erudition.” Tarotx

All righty then. I’ve got my old totem animal, the Moose, and my new, sidecar totem animal, The Great Bear, and coming home tomorrow my neon sign of The Hooded Man, aka The Hermit.

Since I wrote yesterday’s post, I’ve been pondering the drum set with JUSTICE spelled out on the bass, long haired me sticks in hand, banging and kicking and whooshing. I’ve been pondering, too, the Hermit, the Hooded Man.

And an odd insight has come to me. The little drummer boy for justice may actually be my anima, so, a little drummer girl instead. Justice is frequently portrayed as a woman and I can see (not sure about this yet) how my mother’s compassion toward and with the poor might have taken root in my soul as the constant song of a just world. Insistent. Rooted in feeling, not ideology. Instinctive. And, feminine. The yin impulse in my soul. Unexamined, strong, protective, nurturing. Insistent. A mother’s way.

Which would then let the Hooded Man (reinforced by the Moose and the Great Bear) have the animus role. Makes so much sense to me. I have a conflict within me between an instinctive desire/need to right wrongs, fight injustice and an equally strong need to be alone, to go within, to sit in the darkness of the long Winter Solstice Night and be still.

These are not exclusive, no. The one refreshes, recharges, brings perspective and deep connection while the other gathers up that energy and throws it into the world, crashing down bowling pins as it does. But it’s the opposite of the stereotypes. The man wants to return home, cook, play with the kids, have a quiet and peaceful life while the woman wants to take up arms against the sea of troubles and by opposing end them.

This feels so right. And so complicated. Especially right now. The trinity of Hooded Man, Great Bear, and the Moose are of the Winter Solstice while Justice runs with the hot sun of the Summer Solstice. Fire energy.

I suppose this time might be a time when the two try to come into harmony, realizing how much each needs the other. Yet, I feel the Hooded Man wanting to claim more and more of our common life. Home. Family. Introspection. Calmness. That bomb throwing Emma Goldman, deeply loved and cherished, on the other hand, feels guilty sitting out when there are wars still to be fought.

Perhaps this new year will be a time to consider how these two can achieve the alchemical marriage: “Alchemical marriage is a soul-interaction that invites the sacred feminine to the sacred masculine. As a result, we experience wholeness in our spiritual core.” from here.

In fact that would be a good goal, uniting the Hooded Man and Lady Justice. How to do that? No clue. Is it a good idea? I think so. Maybe it’s the end of the ancientrail of life. The conclusion or the work of the fourth phase.

Faith and Spirituality, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Music, Politics, Tarot

The Lady and the Hermit

December 4, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Bonnie. Sefer Yetzirah. Rebecca. The Guardian. The New York Times. The Washington Post. The Denver Post. The Alexandria Times-Tribune of blessed memory. Kate, always Kate. Alan. Judy. Joan Nathan. Rigel, the sweet girl. Kep, the independent thinker. Ruby. (even though she is an internal combustion anachronism.)

Sparks of Joy and Awe: These Rocky Mountains

Tarot: Four of Arrows, Rest. Wildwood

The rhythms of our lives. A fascinating question posed by Ancient Brother Mario Odegard:

“The topic comes from one of the opening lines that Robert Bly said at one of his retreats that has stayed with me for many years. He talked about the absence of an inner rhythm in many men. He referred to this as not paying attention or listening to your inner flow. He asked what kind of “music” are you making with your life:

What is the inner rhythm deep inside you, that guides you, that swings you, that keeps you dancing with life? Do you need to create a new rhythm?”

Thinking about this sent me over an edge into the many rhythms that form the backbeat to our daily lives. Day and night. Heartbeat. Blood pressure’s rise and fall. Breathing in and out. Hunger and satiety. Thirst and refreshment. Weeks. Months. Years. Millennia. Birthdays. The Great Wheel’s seasonal changes. As it leaves, so it comes back.

There’s another rhythm in and down, out and about. That curious dance between introspection and agency.

Sleeping and waking. Punctuations. Semi-colons.

Music, too. Of course. Paradiddles. When I took to the inner rhythm that guides you, swings you, I went somewhere else. To the percussive driving beat of a snare, a fast and steady kick to the big bass drum. Justice. Always. A pushing rhythm, one to thrust me out of my inner fuzziness, my inner doubt and fear. Get out there. Boom. Boom. Boom. Crash. Whish. Go. Go. Go.

So here’s this archetype, the lady and the scales. The sword. Pillars of authority. A veil between her and the world. Let’s say she’s the one playing the drum set in my soul.

At the barest hint of unfairness I hear a faint brush of wire on cymbal. Attenhut! Is there more to this? Example. Got my haircut on Tuesday. Jackie. I’ve mentioned her before. A very sweet lady. Kate’s friend first, now mine, too. Jefferson County instituted a mask mandate last week for inside businesses. Jackie had her mask on. I did, too.

But. “Some of my clients just won’t wear a mask.” Puts her in the position of possibly alienating otherwise regular paying customers. And, does an omicron layoff lie just over the horizon? The combination of alienated customers and the financial cataclysm of a shutdown could ruin her financially.

Not. Fair. Jackie’s in her sixties I imagine. She’s worked hard, on her own, for forty years. Yet she now has to enforce a sensible, but to some, very unwelcome government rule; or, go ahead and cut their hair. Which is what she chooses to do for business and personal reasons. Some of these folks, outside the anti-vax madness are her friends.

Then my mind goes to other hair stylists, nail salons, barbers, mom and pop shops, shoe repair stores, anywhere one or two folks are both work force and proprietor. Lots of people. Especially in lower income communities, yes, but not only there.

I play out in my head the steps it would take to organize enough of these folks to demand some simple JUSTICE. Why? Because this rhythm has ruled my life since I was young. I let most of the situations I discover like this, and they are legion, go. Can’t be all things. Too tired and old. Don’t want to anymore. But there’s always the chance, in the operetta that is my inner life, that one will snag me, draw me in past the oh, I wonder what would happen stage.

It’s time for a new rhythm. One more to the tune of the Hermit. See what I did there? I’m thinking lutes and harps. Renaissance notes. Quiet. Seeking silence and contemplation like the drummer seeks justice. Justice has had at least 65 years to develop a presence, so I don’t imagine she’ll leave. But the Hermit has been around a long time, too. The guy on retreat. The guy who sought Christian mysticism, who studies Kabbalah and tarot. Astrology. The guy wanting to go in and down, not up and out.

Herme may be the balance to Justice, which pushes me up and out. Into the world. Maybe a battle of the bands?

Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Kabbalah, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

A New Totem Animal

December 3, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the 5% waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Blue Skies. Black Mountain. Green Lodgepoles. Naked Aspen. Oceans. The World Ocean. Lakes. Ponds. Puddles. Creeks. Streams. Rivers. Mighty Rivers. Volcanoes. Steam Vents. The Earth’s Core. Riding on the Mantle. Crusty.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Brother Mark

Tarot: The Great Bear, #20 of the major arcana

As they often say in fantasy movies, it has begun. I’m deconstructing the kitchen. Drawers with thermometers, hot pads, skewers, kitchen towels. Cabinets with bouillon, cream of mushroom soup, ladles, and wooden spoons. Into the boxes I’ve been saving. I’m doing a little pruning right now, but the priority is to unload all the cabinets before Monday. I’ll prune more as I replace things in the new cabinets or, better perhaps, after I’ve gotten everything in boxes.

I’m excited to have this project moving forward. It’s completion will be the trigger for moving furniture, rearranging the house. One thing I look forward to upstairs is a conversation area focused on the fireplace. Since I don’t have COPD, I can have fires, but a lot of them? No.

The first fire after the furniture and new lamps and table are in place will be Irish peat logs. I mentioned them a while back as reminiscent of the nights W.Y. Evans-Wentz spent in Celtic homes listening to stories around the fire, often peat logs burning. I want to experience the smell and the fire.

Fits in with the Hermitage notion. I’ll welcome you here if you want to come. Oh, and I’m working on that host thing, too.

I may have a new, or additional, totem animal. Can you have more than one? Love the card I drew this morning, the Great Bear. Here it is again.

The Great Bear guards a passage tomb, a sort of pre-Celtic columbarium that could contain multiple tombs on either side of a long passage. In the tomb souls await rebirth and the Great Bear protects the souls as they wait to renew themselves.

The Great Bear, in the Wildwood Deck, corresponds to the Winter Solstice, that longest night when we sink into the darkness. Happens to be my favorite holiday. Matching it with Ursa Major and the Aurora Borealis makes the Winter Solstice take on an even deeper meaning for me.

As it goes, so it comes. When darkness reaches us, it invites into the passage tomb. We have no need to worry because the Great Bear will protect us through the vulnerable process of our soul’s metamorphosis. While we’re in the tomb the night sky shines above us in all its starry, auroral glory.

The Great Wheel teaches us that rebirth is not a singular event. As the dark Night goes, it will come again, offering another chance for renewal, for rebirth. This is a comfort for those who mourn, who feel a new life awaits. For me.

Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, The West, Weather +Climate

Remodeling. Water.

November 30, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the waning crescent of the Holiseason Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Land Institute. Giving. Tara. Jon and his worm fantasy. Rigel. Kep. The Sun. The Moon. Orion. The Zodiac. Republicans. Trump. Omicron. Covid. Death. Life. Kate, always Kate. Wood. Water. Fire. Air.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kitchen remodel starts Monday

Tarot: The Queen of Stones, Bear. wildwood deck

Jodi emailed me yesterday. Bowe will demolish my kitchen on Monday. That’s a good thing. Because. He’ll start to rebuild it on Tuesday. Once he gets the cabinet bases in place the quartzite fabricator folks will come to do their arcane work. Can’t imagine the precision they have to have. Wait 10 days or two weeks. In which time Bowe will finish the cabinetry. After the installation of the counter top Bowe will put up the brick backsplash and make finishing touches. Done by Christmas. Probably.

Deconstruction. Yes. Construction. Yes.

This week then. Empty all the kitchen cabinets. Getting started today.

At that point I’ll be finished with my 2021 house projects: Staining the house. Adding the mini-splits. Remodeling the kitchen. Hermit neon sign. With one exception. I want to get the furniture rearranged. A lot of heavy lifting.

I’m going to text Mike Vanderhee who put in our fence. I imagine he has a buddy who’s strong like bull, too. Mike carried my 50 inch television up the stairs to the loft and put it in place. Damn thing is really heavy.

Next year. Couch and landscaping.

The ephemeral nature of all this. Could be a wildfire tomorrow. Take it all out. Just after it was done. Could be. But. I choose not to live that way. Insurance. A mountain attitude. Just things. Take the dogs and go.

Jon does not have hookworms. His cat apparently does. The urgent care folks said no. No evidence. He expressed chagrin. Anxiety. Rides him like a cowboy breaking a hoss. You know, rodeo metaphors. The West.

Speaking of the West. Snowpack worries have begun to show up in the Denver Post. The Southern and Southwestern part of the state are in 30% of normal range. The Northern part of the state is more like 75%. Most of the Snowpack comes later so no one is sure what’s going to happen, but the possibility for dry adding on to dry is high.

The highest stakes though are in the Northwestern part of the state where the Mountain snowpack feeds the Colorado. The reservoirs downstream like Lake Mead are so low that a minimal snowpack would (probably will) cause old Water rights to come into effect. This means upper basin states like Colorado and Utah may have to let more water go downstream than usual. Water rights holders in those two states may not get all the water they’re used to. The future. Is now.

As a lifelong resident of the humid East until 2014, I find Water politics passing strange. So important. The growth in Colorado population, which is rapid, is in the Front Range/Denver metro corridor. The Water is mostly in the Western part of the state. A call on Water rights for the Colorado could/would produce impacts here. Complicated. Difficult. No easy answer.

Well. Wildfires and Drought. The modern West. Right where I am.

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Friends, Holidays, Judaism, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

A twofer

November 29, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ancient brothers. Bright, Sun shiny Day. Black Mountain. Enduring. Wildfire. Drought. Kin. Of all kinds, furry and other. Cooking. Kitchen(s). Beds. Chairs. Computers. Televisions. Wires. The internet. Newspapers, online and papery/inky. Reporters. Politics. Climate. Its changes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Cooking.

Tarot: Sunday-The Queen of Stones. Bear. Wildwood Tarot Monday-The Sun of Life, #19 of the major arcana

Oh, boy. A little bleary eyed at 8:30 am. Slept in till 7:30. Made a chicken stew(soup). A Joan Nathan recipe. A Jewish Julia Childs. I made brisket as well for our traditional Hanukkah dinner tonight. Instant Pot. Moist and tender.

Had an interesting experience while I was cooking. A sense of well-being and rightness rose up. I love this! Cooking. It made me so glad that I’d persevered with the kitchen remodel. I feel alive in the kitchen in the same way I do when I write. Paint. With the occasional call from the mitzvah committee at CBE, Jon and the kids I have real people to cook for too. Including me. Maybe I’ll work on a cooking for yourself cookbook.

YEP. Forgodda about it. So, this is now the post for Sunday and Monday.

Saturday evening cooking put me down. For the night plus a bit. Has me thinking about finding those cushiony mats for the stove and prep area. It’s the standing. Combine low to no testosterone and sarcopenia. Result: Legs not as strong as the gardening days. Or, the more recent fire mitigation days. Even so you’ll note I’ve found a happy place. The kitchen.

The Ancient Brothers (our new name, probably the one we’re sticking with) zoomed. Paul joined on the road from Burlington to Robbitson, Maine. Topic: post-pandemic life. Positives from the pandemic. I’ll share the article and some of our thoughts later this week.

Lunch with Tara, who has moved on from her position as director of the religious school at CBE. Sushi! Tara and Marilyn, both last name Saltzman, not related, Kate and I met our first ever evening at CBE over six years ago. Both of them are good friends today. I celebrated her work for the synagogue and our friendship.

Jon discovered what he believes are hookworms in his feet. So. No Hanukkah yesterday for the kids. Maybe tonight, or we might do it on Saturday. My brisket and the chicken stew with matzo balls rest in the frig until they come. I had a bit of the brisket last night. Moist and tasty. The chicken stew has a second lap to its cooking and I won’t do that until I know they’re coming for sure. Part of it is making the matzo balls. Needed the rest yesterday, too, so I’m not unhappy with waiting. Still worn out from Saturday evening.

Need to go down for breakfast and break Kep and Rigel out of the house. It’s housecleaning day. I so look forward to the day when the house has been reorganized, the kitchen remodeled. I have boxes and piles everywhere on the main level. Getting ready for emptying the kitchen when I get a firm date from Jodi.

Bought a Roomba. Kep. It will keep the main level and my floor downstairs clear of dog hair. Shoulda bought this years ago. Happy Hanukkah, me!

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Holidays, Judaism, Memories, Shadow Mountain, Travel

Thanks

November 26, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Friday gratefuls: Thanks giving. Kate. Who was always prepared. Ruth, who did not want to talk about Grandma. Then, did. Good stories, well told, bringing Grandma to Thanksgiving. The Ham. The Stuffing. The Pecan Pie and the Cranberry sauce, both made by Ruth. The Texas Toothpick Gabe got me served the ham. “It was the best present ever for you, Grandpop.”

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The kitchen remodel

Tarot: doing a spread later

It has come and gone. The first major holiday without my wife, without Grandma, without the oldest sister, without Kep and Rigel’s and Jon’s mom. These are holes in the fabric of our family, dug by Azrael. Left to be filled in as we knit together a new family, one without her physical presence.

Since I have long cooked the holiday meals and since Kate’s presence as an active participant in the holidays began to fade a couple of years ago, it was not as painful as it might have been for me. Ruth, less so. Jon, too. Gabe seems pretty level.

We spent time talking about Kate. Jon remembered when she brought the makings for pizza when he was in rehab. Ruth remembered Kate and her cooking. Gabe said he didn’t remember much. I told about the time in the Galliard Cut of the Panama Canal when a woman sitting with us pulled out wet wipes, just like Kate always did, and I gave in to her be prepared way. Then there was that time in Pizarro’s house (really) in Lima, Peru. She leaned her head on my shoulder. So much more.

On our honeymoon I got pneumonia and spent most of the time in Vienna recovering. Thanks to the antibiotics Kate had packed. Kate as the ninja weeder. Her name for her dogged attention to the plants out of place in our garden. A bandana around her forehead, a spading trowel in her hand. She gave so many things all she had. The ski bags she made for Jon. That dress she made from six-year old Ruth’s sketch. The shirts she made for me. Her medical practice. Her quilts. What a woman. So lucky I met her and got to love her. Be loved by her. May her journey be what it needs to be.

Slept in for an hour this morning. Cooking and cleaning up after a big meal. Whew. I find myself now able to do all that, not cringe. Just do it. What I’m not is a great host. Kate had that gene though neither of us enjoyed the role. Wonder if I could learn? Not sure. The introverted me finds shepherding an event and cooking/cleaning for same just too much. Not sure if I want to learn though it is an ancient and honored part of entertaining. Making folks feel welcome, seeding good conversations, maybe a game or two.

Whenever reading books about the Middle East, especially historical works, the rules of hospitality are so prominent. No matter who, even an enemy, deserved and received at least three days of food and shelter and freedom from attack. Don’t know whether that reflects actual practice, but they did lift hospitality to a prominent social norm, for sure.

Sunday night, the first night of Hanukkah, Jon and the kids return. I’m making brisket, traditional, and Jon has the making for latkes. We got a gift from Schecky and BJ, a box of lox (hah), latkes, apple sauce, sour cream, Hanukkah candles, and gelt. The presents from the sisters, the wrapped ones, are on the downstairs table. Not sure yet how we’ll handle the 8 days of present giving and candle lighting. We’ll decide on Sunday.

Another first without Kate.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Kabbalah, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Some days…

November 22, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Monday gratefuls: Mark Horn. Tree of Life spread reading. Ancient Brothers. Siblings. TJ Henry. All-Clad 12″ skillet. Induction cooking. The Ham. Ruth, Jon, Gabe coming up Wednesday night for Thanksgiving. Mark going to Minnesota. The beautiful Holiseason moon. A splendid morning. Life with Kate. Now. A corner I need to turn.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tree of Life tarot spread

Tarot: Eight of Stones, skill. wildwood tarot.

What a day. Ancientrails. Journeymen. (Ancient Brothers?). TJ Henry. Derek and the air conditioner. Late nap. Tarot reading by Mark Horn, Gates of Light Tarot. Lots of love on this day.

The Journeymen. Or, the Ancient Brothers. Yesterday morning Paul, Bill, Mark, and I. We spoke of siblings, how we felt about them, how they were in our lives now. A heartfelt hour plus. In the end we recognized the truth. That we are, and have been for many years, true brothers to each other. Including Tom, absent with Roxann for her mother’s funeral on Saturday. Siblings are not solely about blood.

Afterward over to Evergreen Comfort Inn Suites. A woman had posted on Nextdoor about being forced out of her house with her two dogs. The guy she lived with shut off the electricity to her area, cut her wifi, and did other things she chose not to mention. Some thought it was a scam, but it felt genuine to me. And, besides, I’d rather take a chance and be scammed rather than not take a chance and leave somebody in need without help.

Even after I met TJ and her two fluffy snack-sized dogs, I couldn’t tell for sure. Came home wondering.

Then, I found this posted on Nextdoor this morning.

Strong and Powerful Evergreen Community.

Thank you all so much for your help and support in my blight of late. I cannot thank you all enough. I am putting together a list of all the resources sent to me for someone else who may need them in the future. I will distribute.

Charles Buckman-Ellis, who recently lost his wife, left me with these kind words today. “Thank you for allowing me to help you today!” A beautiful man with a amazing soul. Rich Wyatt. Thank you for the ride to Walmart. Greatly appreciated. 🦋

Not a scam. My heart. Went full.

Later in the day Derek, a true neighbor, came over and helped me remove the single room air conditioner from my front window. It had cooled Kate while she sat in her place working crosswords and playing solitaire. With the mini-splits in place it had become a source of cold air leaking in from the outside and unnecessary. Into the garage.

Also Derek.

Couple of trees, one dead, too close to the house. He also took down dead trees further back on our lot. A decent symbiosis. He heats with wood. I’ve lost the strength necessary to do my own logging. (which, btw, I don’t like) Even when I was able to do it these particular trees seemed beyond my amateur arborist skills. Didn’t want to drop them on my roof. Derek tied ropes to them and felled them away from the house.

He also offered to build a bench using one of the logs and the two stumps. I said, sure. That’d be great. Think he’s doing it right now.

Then, in the evening I had my first ever tarot reading. Mark Horn, of Gates of Light tarot. Gonna go more in depth on this later. Tarot works. How? Not a clue. Well, some clue, but not much.

Here’s the big takeaway. In order to move into my next life, next phase, I need to embrace Kate as a presence in my life, a positive, support presence. I need to end the paradox of feeling remorse for feeling good. When I can pull this off, my next life will emerge on its own.

Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Family

November 21, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth and her sadness. Gabe and his joy. Jon and his struggles. A family meal. Chocolate chip cookies and chex mix. Holidays. Holiseason. Cold weather. Drought. Wildfire. Kate and Mike. Max. Paul and Sarah. Tom and Roxann. Death. Life. Friendship and family. Politics. And its heart knives. Weariness. The race has been long.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hanukkah gifts from the Aunts

Tarot: The knight of stones, wildwood tarot

When I woke up from my nap, Jon, Ruth, and Gabe were already here. They came in quietly knowing my napping habit, bless their little hearts. Around 3 pm. Long nap.

Gabe, who is blossoming, took a box I had set aside, one of many for the kitchen remodel emptying of cabinets, and cut arm holes and eye holes in it, wearing it over his head and upper body. I’m a box troll. Good energy for the day. For the Hermitage.

Jon got tired out by the end of the week, but felt good about it. Next week he’s off for a week, then starts up for two weeks, then Christmas two weeks off. A gentle return. I take him on December 7th for a colonoscopy/endoscopy. He’s never had a solid answer as to why his heath declined so fast. I went from a strong middle aged man to an old man over the course of a year.

He limps from some muscle weakness in his left leg, unexplained. His hip feels out of joint. But. He seems to have the Addison’s (adrenal insufficiency), thyroid insufficiency, and his type 1 diabetes under much better control. In particular he admits he’d let his blood sugar run high since the divorce. Five years ago. Now he’s trying to go back to his usual running lean.

Like many others during Covid Jon got off his exercise routines, too. Pretty important for maintaining muscle strength, cardio fitness. He feels in a bad enough place physically that he’s not planning on skiing this year.

Ruth made biscuits and chocolate chip cookies while I made chili. Discovered a flaw in the induction ready pots and pans I purchased as a set. The skillet is too small and so is the dutch oven, at least for the kind of cooking I do when I’m making a larger meal. Back to Williams-Sonoma this morning.

The Paula Deen chili recipe I chose filled the whole skillet and I initially had to leave out a can of black beans. Overflow. Felt like I was cooking in a very cramped space. Good part? Induction stove tops are easy to clean. Still learning, but getting there.

We ate late. For me. Early by the Aurora Olson’s standard which it seems is a more Latin American 9 pm.

Still suffering news aversion. On NPR I heard the Rittenhouse verdict. Pounded my steering wheel. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Then I turned off the radio. Feels like the world may be slipping out from beneath me. If it does, where will I be?

On the other hand that new life, the one I’ve written about, wondered about. Seems it will have cooking, family, friends in a central spot. One ring in a three ring circus. A second ring. Work, my life alone. Third. Something more communal, perhaps political, perhaps religious, perhaps occult. Maybe all three?

The fourth phase. Spirituality. Relationships. Action. Creativity.

Tired. Lost sleep last night. First time in years I had a small stitch in my colon, a sure sign of anxiety for me. I’ve remained calm, mostly, even through the strains of the last year. Oddly, I think it may be getting back to a more normal day-to-day that has caused my anxiety. I’m not fending off or encountering huge stressors. I have time to think about my relationships with Jon, Ruth, Gabe. With Mary and Mark. With the Journeymen (aka Ancientones). CBE. I may slip out of the moment and into tomorrow, or the next day. Result? A frisson of tension. A soupcon of angst. Working on it.

Aging, Art and Culture, Cooking, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Latin, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, Translating Metamorphoses, Writing

Intense, Dude

November 20, 2021 Charles Leave a comment

Samain and the Holiseason Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Cincinnati Chili. Cooking. Learning how to again, on induction. Mini-splits at work. Experimental month with the hot water heat all off. Kate. Missing her sweetness. Holiseason well underway. Exercise finally back all the way. Core exercises. Diaphragmatic breathing. Kabbalah. Tarot. The Eel. Alan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing Jon, Ruth, Gabe today

Tarot: The Knight of Vessels, the Eel. Wildwood Tarot

Parkside in Evergreen for breakfast with Alan yesterday. Took my new Roger with me. Had Alan clip it to his clothing. At least if I forgot Roger he would go home with somebody I know. Alan’s having cataract surgery in December. He drove me to mine last October. Seeing a friend in person, two actually, since Rebecca Martin was there, too, is so important.

I told Alan about my Hermit neon sign that is underway. We got a good laugh out of the Master Benders. He wanted to know why. Because I see myself a hermit now, I said. We can fix that, he said. No, thanks, but I appreciate the thought. Maybe I should have gone with the Fool. The beginner’s mind. Setting off on the journeymen’s pilgrimage. Each morning. Maybe that will be one for the loft next year.

Honey baked ham. Drove over to their shop in Littleton, near Tony’s. Lots of hams in the coolers. Just one of hundreds of these shops. Had an instant vision of all the Pigs. A moment of sadness. Bought half-a-ham. Sealed in gold foil. Sitting in the frig.

Put in a pick-up order with Safeway. All the ingredients for chili. Now including chili powder for the first time in three years. I love Cincinnati chili. Chili on spaghetti with sour cream, shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions. And, of course, oyster crackers.

Bought some fancy spaghetti at Tony’s for the chili. Also some salted caramel tiny beignets for dessert.

Back home for a nap. Then, workout. I have, at last, gotten back to my old intensity. Been going at reduced speed and intensity since late June when I pounded my IT band into high tension on the sidewalks of Hickam Air Force Base.

Probably a bit more than the old intensity. Two HIIT sessions with lower body resistance and core. Two cardio sessions with upper body and core. Over 5 hours a week now and I can tell the difference. My stamina’s better as is my breathing.

Here’s the conundrum though. I know I need this level of exercise to keep myself healthy, or as healthy as I can be. But that means it has to be routine.

I plan to reduce my week total to four days since I can get all the exercise I need in that time. I’ve had trouble when going for five days a week since I’ve kept the weekends exercise free. With exercise five days a week and writing Ancientrails I use up my mornings.

After I workout, I go downstairs, eat lunch, have a nap. Often I don’t feel like doing anything after the nap. Easy, you might say, stop napping. Yeah. Except. Started napping in 1989. Continuous then to now. That’s what, 32 years? Pretty much a habit.

That’s why four days. The HIIT makes getting my exercise quotient in quick. Wednesdays I plan as my off days. Then, I’ll be able to get phone calls, errands run on Wednesday, necessary work for the admin side of life. When I use up my mornings, and feel done in the afternoons it is not so easy to handle that stuff.

Brother Mark asked in an e-mail this morning if I’d gotten back to my Latin. No. I haven’t. But I appreciated the nudge. I want to get back to Ovid, to Latin, to the writing that flows from it. Painting, too. Slowly, slowly. Taking life at a pace that works. Wu wei.

Well. Just drove over to Evergreen, to CBE. Was going to attend a Torah study session with Rabbi Jamie. I love studying scripture. It’s fun. And, sometimes insightful. However. I need to learn close reading. Of the invitation to the Word and Deed time. Which clearly said, when I brought it up on my phone in the empty CBE parking lot: Zoom only. Sigh.

Back in the car. Over to Safeway to get chili makings. Pickup. Back home now. A day of work inside the house. Moving this and that. Starting to clear out the kitchen for the remodel. Making chex mix, chili.

The Knight of Vessels: The Eel

Promoting harmony. Welcoming. Coming Together.

Perhaps a key part of the Hermitage will be welcoming, coming together, even hosting. My idea of cooking family dinners at 5 pm every Saturday, y’all come, feels good. Today will be the first and already Ruth wants to come early to make cookies. Yes!

The eel, according to Caitlin Matthews, see below* for more information, is a protector. One who could, in Celtic myth, be transformed into a sword.

As a protective animal in the suit of the emotions, vessels, and living in the water way, the knight of vessels is welcome in my home as family comes. Help us realize love and unity as we gather, eat.

*Eels have the most mysterious life cycle and make the longest journey of any of the court card beasts. Spawned in the Sargasso Sea near the Bahamas, the young, transparent elvers make their way across the North Atlantic to European river-mouths. Making their way between water-courses, they often wriggle overland to find another waterway. When they are mature as silver eels, they return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn. The birch tree was one of the first native British trees to emerge from the ice after glaciation.

Caitlin Matthews, Wildwood Blog