Category Archives: Hermitage

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My America

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Summer and the Aloha Moon

Yesterday. In the front of my house.

Tuesday gratefuls: The USA. America. The Rockies. The Great Lakes. The Great Dismal Swamp. The Appalachians. The Okefenokee Swamp. The Big Woods. Northern Minnesota. The Cascades. The Smokies. Blue Ridge Parkway. Natchez Trace. Mississippi Delta. The Bayous. The East Coast and the West Coast. The Mississippi and the Missouri. Hawai’i. Kilauea. Mauna Kea. Kauai. The Big Island. Bison. Elk. Mule Deer. Black Bear. Grizzly. Trout. Haddock. Lobster. Bass. Walleye. Muskie. The Tetons. The Great Plains. The High Plains. Denali. Tongass. Kodiak. Salmon. Seals. Otters. Sea Lions. Walrus. Lichens. Mushrooms. Douglas Fir. Lodgepole Pine. Ponderosa. Oaks. Maples. Ironwood. Woodchucks. Turtles. Grasses. Elms. Chestnuts. Hickories. All the wild things. All.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The soil of the Midwest.

Tarot: Going to do a full spread

 

I offer three long quotes from three different Americans. Tom Crane sent out the first a week or so ago. The other two have a central piece in my own thought and I’ve now added the Whitman piece. I present them to you after this 4th of despair and chagrin.

They reflect, are, the America in which I still believe, of which I am a citizen, and for which I shall fight.

 

 

Preface to Leaves of Grass

by Walt Whitman

“This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

 

From the Introduction to Nature, by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

“OUR age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing generations beheld God and Nature face to face; we, through their eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs? Embosomed for a season in Nature, whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invite us by the powers they supply, to action proportioned to Nature, why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe? The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.

Undoubtedly we have no questions to ask which are unanswerable. We must trust the perfection of the creation so far, as to believe that whatever curiosity the order of things has awakened in our minds, the order of things can satisfy.”

 

Henry Beston, The Outermost House: A Year of Life on the Great Beach of Cape Cod.

“We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate for having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein do we err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”

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Androgyny. Needs and Desires.

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Summer and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Thursday grateful: Running lines with Alan. The Campfire. That pastrami sandwich. Feeling conflicted. Money. Trips. Axumin scan. Long term care insurance premium. Maybe a new (read expensive) hot water heater. Friends. Family. Travel. A need for rest, time away. How to reconcile. The synagogue. Luke. Rebecca. Jamie. Marilyn and Irv. Kep. So excited in the morning. Food, dad, food!

Sparks of Joy and Awe: It’s a ladle (not a spoon, you dumb ignoramus!) a line from the Odd Couple

Tarot: The Seer, #2 of the major arcana

“With the innate ability to balance emotions and the power of will and source of knowledge, The Seer encourages us to change the ordinary material world. She uses all of The Wildwood’s natural resources skillfully. She nurtures positive changes in people’s minds, expressed through emotions and commitment to life. Her magic is one of the purest and most revered things on earth.”  tarotx.net

 

Androgyny. Quite a ways back Kate paid me a compliment, one I’ve treasured. “You’re the most androgynous person I know, Charlie.” I value the balance of yin and yang, of the feminine and the masculine. In me. I love being a sensitive man who will knock down injustice. I love cooking, raising kids, keeping a nice house. The chainsaw and I were one. Back when I could still hold one. The axe, too. I loved gardening, the labor of it and the nurture of plants. Raising dogs and caring for them when they’re sick. I loved being in relationship with Kate.

The Seer and I are old friends. Her feminine intuition, her link to Mother Earth. I feel them. Honor them. Honor her. She was the one who told me, “You need to be a Dad.” And, I listened. She was the one who told me, “You need to write.” And, I did. She was the one who told me, “Marry Kate. Right now.” I did. I listen to her as often as I can, as closely as possible. She was the one who told me, “Move to Colorado. Be close to Ruth and Gabe as they grow up.” And, we did. I have never regretted hearing her voice.

Drawing this card today reminds me to collect the information I’ve gleaned over the last year and two months since Kate died. To listen to the Seer once again. Hear her advice on what happens next. What I need to do now. Listening.

 

I’ve put myself in a box. One of my own making, one that expresses deep desires but may not conform, right now, to my reality. I really want to go to Durango with Tom. I really want to see the Redwoods with Diane. I really want to extend my reunion trip and visit Sarah and Jerry at Belews Creek. But. In August I have my Axumin scan. Over a thousand bucks. Then in September my long term care insurance comes due. Three and half times that. Plus I may need a new water heater. Maybe more than the two combined.

Money. I have enough. Yes. But not more than enough. I so want to go places, see other people. But. I may have to settle for Hawai’i until I’ve seen my way through these big expenses. Adulting. Bah, Bah. Gonna have to count my pennies again. Stay tuned.

Anoka County, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Mussar, Our Land and Home, Park County, Plants, Shadow Mountain, Tarot, The West, Weather +Climate

Natural Healing

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Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Friday gratefuls: My journey over a lifetime. Kate. Always. That trail. With the Creek, the Mountain Stream. The fallen Trees. The tall Pines. The Wild Strawberries. The Rocks. The steep valley walls. Wild Rose. Primrose. Those yellow Flowers I can’t identify. A place of great sanctity. A holy place. A sanctuary. Friends. Near and far.

Saturday gratefuls: Stephanie. That trail again. Happy Camper. Aspen Perks breakfast. Salad. Apples. Peanut Butter. The Continental Divide. Mt. Rosalie. Mt. Evans. Black Mountain. Staunton State Park. Richard Power’s Orfeo. Learning lines. Mini-splits. Jon. Money.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: That trail.

Tarot: Seven of Stones, Healing. And, Again.

Key words: “Give our minds a break, Calmness, Meditation, Stillness, Healing, Reevaluation, Patience, Perseverance, State of stability, Attentive care, Take time to relax and unwind, Connection to the source energy.”  tarotx.net

 

Forgot to finish this yesterday. A busy day. Over to Aspen Perks for breakfast: Salmon Eggs benedict. Reading Orfeo. After a morning with what people especially beyond Richmond Hill (think Pine, Bailey) call the camper and RV races. Or, the RV assholes. Or, those bastards. Folks from down the hill invading, driving too fast. Often with trailers in tow. Passing on curves. Generally being jerks. After Richmond Hill 285 goes from a four lane divided highway to a two lane, no dividers. That’s when things get clogged.

At 9 am I was still a bit ahead of the bulk of it. But I had a guy towing a trailer behind me, a BIG RV ahead of me for much of the way. Irritated locals often try to pass early. Not waiting for the passing lanes that come after the road to Staunton State Park. It’s a recipe for accidents. And, they happen. And, they kill people.

 

I was on my way to the Happy Camper for my every two months or so cannabis run. 25% off! for the whole month. Still digesting a Stanford study that says thc can increase inflammation in the veins and arteries around the heart. Gonna consider genistein to counteract this effect. Sleep is critical and my thc use has made 8 hours every night possible. Gonna contact my docs to see about safety and dosing.

 

As my avanah (humility) practice for the month, I’m using a focus phrase: ichi-go, ichi-e. Every moment is once in a lifetime, unique, precious. Trying to use it every time I encounter a living entity: Kep, Myself, Rocks, Lodgepoles, Elk, Friends, Waitress, other Diners, Birds, the Sun, Black Mountain. All the time. Sort of like the Jesus Prayer. Trying to make it subliminal, yet also present as I move around through my day.

In this way I can learn to take up the right amount of space in my life. Not too much, not too little. Not minimizing my gifts, not over emphasizing them. Making sure I remember to bring my whole self to each precious moment. Since it will not be repeated, it’s the only chance I have.

 

I have now hiked what I’ve begun to think of as my trail, at least when I’m on it, three times since Gabe and I were on it last Saturday. I may go again this morning. Yesterday after my time with Stephanie, Dr. Gonzales’ PA and a sweet lady, I hiked it with the ichi-go, ichi-e focus phrase.

I saw that patch of Wild Strawberry blooms and thought of Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same name. A favorite. The Mountain Rose Bushes are in full Flower, too, five white Petals brightening the trail. They will give way to Rose Hips as the Wild Strawberry Blooms will to Strawberries.

The little Stream, I don’t know its name, flows a bit less vigorously as the Snow melt and Rains subside. Still it sings, dancing over Rocks, falling down the Mountainside, continuing its creation of this holy Valley.

Oddly, as I thought about this trail last night, I realized I’ve done just this, exercised outside in spots that became favorites for a very long time. I used to hike the trail along the Mississippi down by the Ford Avenue Bridge. Then I moved on to the Crosby Nature Farm, also along the Mississippi. When I worked for the Presbytery, I often exercised or walked at the Eloise Butler Garden and Wildlife Sanctuary. 

In Andover I went to the Rum River Regional Park and snowshoed a trail through Woods behind the new library in the Winter, spent other times at Boot Lake SNA. Now I’m on my trail just off Brook Forest Road. Up here though the options are much more abundant. I’ve also been on Upper Maxwell Falls, The Geneva Creek trail outside of Grant, and plan to hit the Mt. Rosalie Trail soon.

My equivalent of the Celtic Christian practice of peregrinatio. The Skunk Cabbages are probably blooming right now at Eloise Butler. I miss seeing them and the bright yellow of the Marsh Marigolds. The power of the mighty Mississippi, too. Though a Mountain Valley is equal to them in its own way. Love the one you’re with. Eh?

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They’re Back!

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Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

Thursday gratefuls: MVP. Anavah. Humility. Spanakopita. Cancer. Chemo. Rich. Jamie. Judy. Susan. Heart moments. Acting class. Mussar. Ancient Brothers. Ancientrails. The trail. Walk slow one way. Fast both ways. Slow back. Kate’s memorial garden about to bloom. Orfeo by Richard Powers. Learning lines. Reading.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Greening of the Mountains. (can the pollen be far behind?)

Tarot: Knight of Vessels, The Eel

“With purity of intent, your destiny defined, you are able to bring wisdom and maturity to your tasks. Embarking on a quest of personal revelation, your vision leads you forward. Your deep feelings are expressed at every turn.” The Wild Wood Tarot Book, p.113

 

June, 2019

So excited! Been meaning to say here I expect the return of my Elk friends to eat the Dandelions. They first came the the day I started radiation now four years ago. Each year since three have come, one with a single horn. He’s back this morning! And he’s gotten bigger. A lot bigger. The other two aren’t here yet, but I imagine they will be if they’re still alive.

I love the rhythms of the natural world, especially when they happen so close to, or rather, at home. This, too, is Living in the Mountains. If this house were abandoned, these Elk would still come here. Wild. On their own. Living as they have for over 25 million years. About 8 times longer than humans. Maybe they’ve learned something we haven’t?

 

A solid workout yesterday. Cardio and resistance.

Learning lines. Scene from View from a Bridge. Alfieri. I have his lines down now, need to run them with Hamish for cues and rhythm. Odd Couples lines are off-book now, I think. Alan was sick Monday, so we didn’t run through them at class.

Later, MVP at CBE. Anavah. Humility. Taking up the right amount of space. Knowing yourself required. Neither too much of you, nor too little. Neither shrink away from what you can do, nor do more than you should. The practice: a slip of paper in each pocket. The right: “For my sake the world was created.” The left: “I am but dust and ashes.” When you feel a little low, less than, reach in the right pocket and pull out that slip of paper. When you feel over confident, reach into the left.

 

Driving back from Evergreen last night, the greening of the Forest splashed itself across Meadows and up Mountain sides. Beautiful. A sense of abundance.

They will, of course, soon begin to desport themselves in wild pollen orgies. Which will, of course, make me sneeze, gasp, itch. The mini-splits will get a chance to shine as I close the house, insisting on no plant sexual activity inside.

I’m all for it. Just not in my house. Do it out there in the Forest where Mother Nature intended.

Herbivore heaven right now. Succulent Grasses. Flowers. Green Shrubs. Aspen Leaves. Easy to reach.

Gonna go now. Take a few pictures of my one-horned friend. Hope his buddies come, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Acting, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Hermitage, Jefferson County, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Gracie and the Momma Elk

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Beltane and the Living in the Mountains Moon

art@willworthington

Tuesday gratefuls: Acting lessons. Kep. No puppy. Proctitis. Radiation. The gift that keeps on giving. Prostate Cancer. Medical care. Dr. Gonzales. Kristie. A little low. Possibility of a recession. Blue Sky. Rain yesterday. Last day of Astrology class today. Disorientation. Sadness. A bit. Will to live. Orfeo by Richard Powers.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Evergreen Animal Protection League

Tarot: Queen of Stones, the Bear

“You are an inspiration, a mentor, and a positive role model for those around you. Share what you have and know that the Universe will send more.

…you are magnetic and will attract the right people and opportunity will come to you…set your intention to be for the Highest Good. Others will be drawn to your inner authenticity, abilities, and strength. There is sensuality at play here too. You are most attractive when you are just being you. Know this and show it…fully. Unleash the need to be anything else but exactly who you are.” tarotx.net

 

Well. Well. Well. Three times in a row. After three shuffles of the deck each time and three cuts. Guess the Wildwood deck has a message for me. Be a mother Bear. Be a mother Bear. Be a mother Bear. OK. OK. I’ll be a mother Bear. Third time is a Bear, too. If she shows up tomorrow, I’m going to invest in a set of claws.

Not really sure what to make of this. In the year since I learned about the Tarot I may have had the same card come up twice though I’d have to check. I know I’ve never had one come up three times in a row.

 

Feeling a little low today. Might be anemia. Proctitis, an unpleasant sequelae of 35 sessions of futile radiation, has flared. Blood loss. Taking steps. Not a serious issue, but not one to take lightly either. Feels like my medical stuff has become more and more complicated. Getting treatments for the secondary effects of my treatments. Geez.

Trusting my doctors, Kate. You were right. It relieves anxiety to put my trust in those trained to care for me. And, I will, assuming I feel they do care for me. Both as a person and a patient. Kristie and Kristen? For sure. As usual just laying this down on the page here, saying it out loud, calms me.

Started my new doubled dose of thyroid hormone replacement. Today. That should give me a boost of energy when it kicks in. Something I could use.

 

Felt off at acting lessons last night. Hard to focus. Seemed everyone had a nadir, too. Jill and Alan weren’t there. The Rock of Ages rehearsal in the other Evergreen Players space kept coming through the wall. Cold rain. Sort of a blah.

I give a ride to Deb to acting class. She and Robbie have a dog, Gracie. I mentioned her before. Gracie is thirteen and a very sweet dog. I always talk to her when I pick up Deb.

Robbie’s out of town and Gracie is in Bergen Bark Inn. A Cow Elk and her newborn took up residence in Robbie’s yard. The Cow charges cars and people. And, Gracie. It scared Gracie so much that she refuses to go outside while the Cow is there. Hence, Bergen Bark Inn. I saw the Elk last night when I picked up Deb. She did not charge my car.

Living in the Mountains requires adjustments. Our wild neighbors live here, too. Most of us try to interfere with them as little as possible. Aside from the roads, houses, lights, and noise we’ve already brought into their home.

So the Cow Elk stays and the dog goes to the kennel for a while. Reasonable choice up here.

 

In other doggy news. My application for Kahlua was denied. They did not agree with my answer about how to treat growling/biting behavior. No, no bad dog. Step on front feet. First lightly, then harder if necessary. They said, rightly I think, that they never support hurting an animal. I was too hasty in filling out the form, didn’t give a thought to how that answer might be read. In fact that was the cure to a Wolfhound jumping up on you. Never had to do it more than twice. Still. I take their point.

Maybe I’m meant to wait. Kep’s leg stopped bothering him. Grateful for that. Also, he’s back in the bed at night, even for naps. He may be moving through his grieving. I get it.

 

This mother Bear is hungry. My stomach is growling. Gonna get breakfast.

 

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You’re Joyful

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Friday gratefuls: Tiredness. Long sleep. Denver Mountain Parks. Trail off Brookforest Drive. Mussar. Feelings shared. Luke’s hug. Acting. Felix. Learning lines. Reading. Zweig. Powers. Meisner. Tal. Out of the head, into the heart. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Diane. These wonderful Mountains. Shadow Mountain. Herme. Kep. Kate, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Denver Parks Mountain Trail

Tarot: Ten of Bows, responsibility

“To tackle the challenges that come with responsibility here requires resilience, endurance, and assertiveness. The burden may be overwhelming and disordered, but the task given to you is aiming for a good, great goal, not only for yourself but also for your family or tribe.” tarotx.net

 

OK. Second time in two days for the Ten of Bows. Psyche telling me. Pay attention dude. Responsibility. Those bows weighing me down. Keep moving. Be assertive. Yes. Endure. Yes. Be resilient, yes. Figure out a way to hold a relationship without giving in to hurt or immorality. Or, figure out a way to let it go altogether.

 

More learning of lines. Reading about Meisner. “Renowned American actor and acting teacher Sanford Meisner developed his groundbreaking technique to guide actors in behaving instinctively and getting in touch with their emotions instead of getting trapped in their own thoughts.” NFI  “The Meisner Technique is a brick-by-brick process designed to get you out of your head and into your gut.” Meisner Technique Studio.

A great way to move myself beyond the last period of my life and into the new one. Didn’t take the class imagining this reward, but there it is. Thanks Alan and Tal.

 

Mussar yesterday. A sweet time. These folks have my back. And my front. Getting to know Luke better. Leo, his dog. A sweetheart. Sweet. A word I reuse. Means I often see the world as precious. Most of the time. Life, too.

 

Acting class on Monday. Kabbalah and the Stars on Tuesday, zoom. Diane on Wednesday zoom. Mussar on Thursday. A lunch or breakfast with Alan or Luke or Rebecca. The Ancient Brothers on Sunday. An occasional service, a visit from the grandkids and Jon every couple of weeks. MVP once a month. That’s plenty for me. I wouldn’t want much less and certainly not much more. The Hermit in a Crowd. Living alone with a crowd.

 

On the way home from mussar I stopped for the lovely Denver Mountain Park Trail near the bottom of Brook Forest Drive. About 30 minutes. A Stream. Valley walls covered with Ponderosa. Green Grass along the Stream bed. Going in and out of Shadow. Lodgepole. Dogwood. At the end of the trail the reward is Water falling over a graduated step of Rock, the Stream not yet finished wearing them down. The sound, soothing. On a small Pond I saw Water Wtriders. Picked up a Pine Cone that had a new Pine growing from its tip, a chartreuse baby Tree. Overstory on my mind the whole hike.

 

During an acting exercise aimed at getting us to our feelings Tal said of me in succession: you’re patient. I am patient. You’re kind. I am kind. You’re joyful. I am joyful. That last one. Yes. At last.