Category Archives: Dogs

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

Snow and, well, more Snow

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Snow

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

 

 

 

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

Introducing Herme

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Marmosets and Raccoons

Tarot: #8, The Stag

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

A Change in the Mind

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A script

Tarot: Knight of Stones, Horse

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

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

 

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

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

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

Mortality behind me. Mortality ahead of me.

 

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

Colorado, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Travel

How do I feel?

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Sunday gratefuls: Kya. Diaphanous gowns. Road trips. Aging. Rachelle. Mennonites. High Plains. Snow covered Mountains. Timidity. I’m in no rush; I have plenty of time. Travel. The Rockies. Their vastness. Mr. Burro Cafe. Hwy. 285, the road to Taos and Santa Fe. Taking no for an answer.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rachelle

Tarot: Nine of Stones, Tradition

 

 

Oh, the learning I had. Followed Ode’s blue SUV south on Hwy 285, stopping before Del Norte at Cty. road D. A right turn to littlebear Akitas. 3 hours plus from Conifer. Another hour or so and I’d I’ve been in Taos. This trip was for Kep though. Finding him a girlfriend, a companion. Kya.

Found myself along the way. I’m in no rush; I’ve got plenty of time. Usually when some driver rushed past me even though I was at the speed limit or 5 mph over. It hit me. That’s true. I’m in no rush. I do have plenty of time. I spent most of my adult life being in a rush. Hurrying. Making sure I was on time or early. No more.

The end is out there, sure. Even so. If it’s tomorrow, I still have plenty of time and am in no rush. In this moment I can find all the life I need. This ichi-go ichi-e moment. Not only is it unrepeatable and unique, it is eternity. And, since I’m experiencing it I’m in no rush and have plenty of time.

A profound learning for me.

 

Taking no for an answer. Rachelle is a 35 year old Mennonite woman, as strong and resolute as the High Plains on which she lives. Kya, the 9 year old Akita female she thought might be a good fit with Kepler was as sweet as she described. A real keeper. Except for Kepler.

Rachelle got her first Akita when she was 18 and has been raising them for 17 years. She knows the breed. I’ve had one Akita. Her judgment is better than mine. We spent an hour or so trying to get them to interact. Kep expressed interest. Kya kept wandering away, not to be bothered.

A few times Kep growled at her. She ignored it. According to Rachelle, Akita females are dominant. If she had rolled Kep over and he accepted it, we could have a different ending. But she didn’t. And he was ornery.

“Fear is the hardest to work with. An over confident dog, yes, a sensitive one like Kepler. Very hard.” In the end we both decided it was too risky. I did not want a Kepler-Murdoch moment on the way home. While I was driving.

After meeting Rachelle, I had an insight into why evangelicals look so hard for biblical warrant for wives submitting to husbands. Rachelle and her sisters are like Akitas.

No, I told Rachelle, is as important and significant an answer as yes. Realized I’ve learned that. Felt good. Not jamming experience into the shape you prefer. Seeing what you see. Acting on that.

 

The road trip. Hwy. 285 is a magical mystery tour. Leaving Conifer on it for points south with names like Fairplay, Saguache, Buena Vista, Del Norte, Taos, Santa Fe takes you first through the Platte River Valley, then up the 11,000 foot Kenosha Pass. While descending from that height, the High Plains of South Park spread out for miles ahead of you protected by ranges of Snow topped Mountains. South Park is at 9,000 feet or more.

Breckenridge lies about 20 miles north of Fairplay over Hoosier Pass. Leadville, a storied mining town is a little further north from Buena Vista where 285 turns due south toward New Mexico. Until Buena Vista 285 parallels I-70.

At Buena Vista the Collegiate Range towers in the near west. Part of the Sawatch Range the Collegiates are some of the highest Mountains in the Rockies. Mt. Harvard, at 14,427 feet is the tallest. Mt. Princeton. Mt. Yale. Mt. Oxford. Mt. Columbia. Grand and massive. Still with Snow.

From there 285 turns south and the Mountain Ranges are in the east and west. Tried to feel the spirits of the place. The strong Yang of the Mountains overlooks the strong Yin of Valleys and Plains. Snow and Ice transform the Yang of the Mountains into the Yin of Soil and Streams and Rivers. They look separate, but the Plains and the Mountains are a whole. Transforming one into the other. Protecting. Nourishing.

The Plains on which 285 runs toward Del Norte where Rachelle lives is still at 8,000 feet. Windy. Wind swept. Trees with bows and branches shaped as by a topiarists hand.

Practicing my acting class warmup on this portion of the drive I said: How do I feel? Awed. How do I feel? Achy and tired. How do I feel? Amazed. How do I feel? Blessed. How do I feel? Loved. How do I feel? Excited. How do I feel? Glad to be on the road.

 

 

 

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, Travel

What makes you happy?

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Saturday gratefuls: Coyote HVAC. Back muscles healing. One dead Mouse. A full week’s exercise. Sano. Kep, a healthy doggy at 12. Kya. Hope she and Kep get along. Kate’s yahrzeit during the service at CBE. Jon, Ruth, Gabe.  A lovely evening, an outdoor service. Kristie. Kristen. Road trip today. Mini-splits minimal maintenance. A to do list for Vince.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep

Tarot: Ten of Vessels. Happiness.

 

Jon, Ruth, and Gabe drove up to CBE for the Friday evening service. And were early! First time I remember that happening. Kate’s yahrzeit came up during the service because of the Jewish leap year which moved Nissan 30 to May 1st on the Gregorian calendar. When kaddish, the mourner’s prayer is read those in active mourning or honoring a yahrzeit stand while the congregation says the prayer.

Afterward Rabbi Jamie asked us if we wanted to say anything about Kate. Jon said he felt her with us. Ruth was crying. I said, Yes, I do. But wait. I gathered myself for a minute. Kate was 30 when she converted, had no opportunity to live a Jewish life until we moved to Colorado and found Beth Evergreen. She loved this place. Not sure all of it was intelligible. A powerful moment for the four of us.

We went to Sushi Win, ordered take out. They’re not open for dining yet. Jon and Ruth waited for the order. Gabe and I went back to Shadow Mountain. I said seeing dogs with their heads out the window of a car made me happy. Toddlers, too.

What makes you happy, Gabe? Lots of things. Give me two. You. You make me happy, Grandpop. Family. Family makes me happy.

We ate in the common room. The new chandelier finally hung and centered with bulbs. Herme on. The couch and chairs arranged. Gabe went upstairs to work on a puzzle. Ruth flung herself on the couch. Jon and I stayed at the table talking.

He’s a happier guy now that he sees an end to teaching. I hope it works out for him because he’s a different person with that hope on the horizon.

Ruth’s big news? Prom. Today. She’s anxious. Doesn’t want to stab Cord when she pins on his boutonniere. Unsaid. How will I look? Will I have fun? Will Cord think I’m beautiful? What about drugs and sex? Exciting. Fun. Dangerous. Thrilling. Prom!

 

Reading The Inner Work of Aging: From Role to Soul by Connie Zweig. I like it. It’s focus is something I’ve mentioned here before. We lack a road map for the extended time after work that modern medicine and health practices have given us. Who are we without work? Without a role? Connie is a shadow-work specialist so she naturally goes there, but there’s much more to the book. Not far in it.

 

Tarot question I asked today: How will it go with Kya? I like the happiness card. I hope Kep finds Kya a happy match. Whether or not he does, I will be happy. Road trip. Trying to find Kep a companion. A first attempt. So, yes. Happiness for this day. And many others, too.

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

RazzPutin

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

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

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A possible buddy for Kep

Tarot: Six of Vessels, reunion

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Garden, Great Wheel, Health, Holidays, Memories, Minnesota, Myth and Story, Our Land and Home, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Shadow Mountain

Beltane: You are alive!

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Beltane and the Beltane Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Beltane. The growing season. Fire festival. Life renewed. Again. Still. My voice. Jon. Better. More insight, moving forward. Three dead mice. 2nd night, none in the kitchen. Edward Abbey. Mario. Taos. Road trip. Iran. Possible tour in the fall. Taipei, winter. Energy back. Got a lot done yesterday. Closing in on a finished downstairs. Feels so good. Jon’s idea about centering the chandelier. Smart guy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Jon, taking hold

 

October, 2014 Andover

 

Beltane. Yes. The season I need. A Fire festival. Those crazy Scots and Swedes. All naked today, bonfires. Probably a lot of making love in the tall grass. Sympathetic magic. Maybe a few year and a day handfast marriages. The maiden goddess lying with the Greenman, with Cernunnos. Persephone with Pan. Ceres waving her hand, seeds unfurling, heading toward the sun.

A celebration of the Garden, the Prairie, the Pasture, the Woodland. Life giving. Soaking in the Sun. The Rain and the Snow melt. Mountain Streams full. Trout loving the cold Water. It’s Beltane. Ring out the fallow season for real. Ring in the season of plenty.

In the old days, the farthest away of the Celtic times, only Beltane and Samain. The growing season and Summer’s End. One or the other. Fertility or waiting, decomposition, getting ready. Resting. For this. The time of green. Of yellow and brown.

Oh, I’m so ready. I’ve had a long, long fallow time. Maybe since 2018 or so. Life with Kate had hit its late fall, early winter. The Covid. Her decline and death. Grief. Kate, always Kate. Now less Kate and more me. Alive still.

Beltaned. My Seed beginning to unfurl, blast its way through the Soil. Drinking in the Rain. Basking in the Sun, gaining power. My own Photosynthesis. Hands out, palms up, neck back, face lifted to the warmth of a new life season. Probably my last one. The fourth phase. Joyful. Rich. Headed toward joy.

Leave no bit of juice in the tank. Spill it all on the road, running the engine as long and as far as possible. Like Ode on his long road trip. Like Neal Cassidy and Ken Kesey. Like Walt Whitman and his powerful Yap.

That’s the message of the Great Wheel. Until you fall into the soil, become one with the next generation of life, you are alive. An agent. A whole universe swirling with galaxies of love, nebula of knowledge, Big Bangs of creativity.

Contra Dylan Thomas I do want to go gently into that good night. Not as one passive and resigned, but as one filled with experience. One who took the moments and lived in them, loved in them. Shouted. Danced. Acted. One who knows the night is nothing to rage against, rather something to embrace. These element’s fallow time after their long journey as me.

So. Take off those clothes. Throw away the inhibitions and the ambitions. Open. Spread out. Jump and twirl. It’s the Beltane festival. For you and for me.

 

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Jefferson County, Mountains, Our Land and Home, Plants, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Science, Shadow Mountain

Wait

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Spring and Kate’s Yahrzeit Moon

Friday gratefuls: Luke. CBE. The Thursday mussar group. Gracie and Leo, two dogs also learning mussar. Kep, the sweet boy. David Sanders. Being where I need to be. Taking a breath. Or, two. To Speak for the Trees. Ancient Celtic wisdom. Relevant today. Thanks, Tom. The Lodgepoles and the Aspens on this property. The Willows along Maxwell Creek. The Bristlecone Pine on Mt. Evans.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Authenticity

 

 

Not quite done with David Sanders. Close, though. The result may be, probably will be, I’m doing fine. Things will be good with my heart and my life. This meshes well with my levothyroxine boosted energy level, the coming of spring.

Punta Arenas, Argentina 2011

Even Kate’s yahrzeit though a sad memory does signal a year’s worth of time to integrate her loss. Time I’ve used as best I can. The grief has not passed, nor do I expect it to. Or, want it to. That sudden welling of tears has a direct heart link with her, with our marriage, with our love. I imagine the intensity of those moments will continue to diminish, but I don’t expect them to disappear.

As I explained earlier, due to the Jewish leap year her Jewish yahrzeit will not happen until May 1st. This April 12th though I’m lighting two 24 hour yahrzeit candles, one for her and one for our marriage. There is that third aspect of our life together, our usness, our mutual decision making, the frisson of our days and nights, the interactivity and mutuality, that also perishes.

No longer do we have a money meeting that parses our financial life. No longer do we consider how to celebrate our anniversary. Whether to go on another cruise. Hold hands in the car. Sleep together. Agonize over illness, celebrate joyfully for our grandchildren, children, dogs. Dead, too. And, grieved. I lost my partner. My best buddy.

Ushuaia, Southern most town in the Americas. 2011

My soulmate. Yes, corny as that phrase is. Yes. We helped each other grow. Consoled each other in tough times. Had the best interests of the other at heart. When I made a bad turn right in front of an oncoming car, I dithered about whether I should be driving. “Any one could have done that.” Oh.

Death has such finality. No do overs. No matter how much desired. I thought I already knew that, but no. I had to learn it again.

 

Sorta strayed from the main point there. Though not without good reason. Part of my question about what comes next lies entangled with the process of grieving. But not all. Not even most. It is my life, no matter the thread of sorrow now woven into it.

Feeling more confident about emergence. That as I live into the redone house, a less restricted post-Covid life (will it ever be really over?), when I feel my way into new possibilities as they become apparent, that the new, an extension of the old, of course, how can it not be, will declare itself. Might be a quiet embrace. Could be a noisy clamoring. Look what I’m up to now! Don’t know. Will, as Seoah would say, wait and see. Wu wei.

 

A word about To Speak for The Trees. This book, which I discovered after reading an article forwarded by Tom Crane, feels like a hook, a wu wei moment. Oh, yes. Celtic thought. I’d forgotten. Laid it aside. Yet here is this woman, about my age, Diana Beresford-Kroger, recounting her immersion in the Celtic life in Lisheen, Ireland. And how that immersion fed her life as a scientist, as a keeper of rare trees. How it might still feed us all.

Stirrings. Threads. Links. Weaving themselves again, still, into my days. I await guidance. With no expectations. Giving it over to the days as they come and go. Waiting.

Cinema and Television, Colorado, Coronavirus, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, The Move, Weather +Climate

Kavanah

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Spring and the waning sliver of Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Snow. Cooler. Cytopoint. Syringes. Home injections. Orgovyx. Erleada. Levothyroxine. Life. Living it. Well. Eudaimonia. Taoism. Travel. Short trips. Long trips. Boredom. Organization. Dullness. Joy. Chicken pot pies. Art. Music. David Sanders. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Gertie. Vega. The Colorado dogs. With Kep. Who yet lives.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Max. The baby. Growing. Sitting up on his own. Go, Max. Go, Kate.

 

The days of our lives are sand in an hourglass. Do they still make soap operas? Is there still day time TV? I cut the cord so long ago that I have no idea. TV news is an oxymoron. Infotainment is not a thing. It’s a distortion of what the news was meant to be. The strait jacket of a show at one time. Escaped. Death by a thousand channels, most of them unwatchable? Escaped.

If sports were your thing, cutting the cord would have been difficult. I get that. But I was a Vikings fan. The football equivalent of a Cubs fan before they broke away from their apparent destiny. Didn’t miss it. Especially now in Colorado.

Movies. Yes. Series dramas. Yes. Comedy. Yes. Content from all over the world. Yes. With Netflix, Amazon Video, and HBO Max I’m happy. Maybe a bit too happy. The amount of good, even great content, has grown so fast.

Kingdom

The Koreans have given us dramas in a new tone, more human, less formulaic. Then there are the history based series like the Vikings, the Last Kingdom, Qin Empire: The Alliance, Resurrection: Ertugrul. Science fiction.

First run movies. Caches of old movies. HBO Max provides access to the Turner Classic Movies archive as well as Studio Ghibli. And the occasional Criterion flick.

All you have to day is pony up some cash, sit your butt in the chair, find that remote, and you’re off to the Warring States Period, the rise of the Ottoman Empire, Space Force, anime. Spirited Away. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I love it.

The shame comes in when I admit how much I’ve been loving it. More than I need. Less than I want. Not sure how to balance this as part of my day. I’ve made advances. I’ve taken back reading time from the TV.

Now that my energy has improved, I see the trap the weariness had snapped around me. Oh, I’m too tired. But, I can watch TV. Covid played a role here, too. And Kate’s long illness. However those are dropping away, have dropped away.

Intentional. Kavanah. What’s your intention? A Jewish idea that informs prayer. You’re not supposed to pray without intention. No formulary, rote prayer. Know what you mean to do with your prayer.

Kavanah. Our hours need kavanah. My hours, the late afternoon hours, need kavanah. I’ve allowed myself to get into a rut. Intention can lift me out of it.

Working on it. Boredom helps. Energy helps. The coming of Spring helps. I can do this.

What will help most are two things: 1. finishing the kitchen, common room, my level refurbish, remodel, redecorate. 2. finishing my work with David Sanders, turning the ship of my life toward a new destination without losing the gifts I have in it right now.

A slow process. Grief. For me at least. But, a needed process. Letting go of Kate yet keeping her close. Difficult inner work.

Will be doing more of all this today. And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow hopefully not to the last syllable of recorded time.

Denver, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Spontaneity

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Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Dr. Beresford-Kroeger. A Celtic guide to the next future. Thanks, Tom. Ruth and Cord, a boy who thinks she’s pretty. She is, btw. Spontaneity. 76 degrees in Denver yesterday! 63 back home! The genuine weirdness of a Mountain Spring. Big Snow coming. Sushi. Ichi-go, ichi-e. Driving back into the Mountains after having been down the Hill. The Container Store. Energy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth in strong like. Very Sweet.

 

So. Looked up Orgovyx and thyroid. Nothing there. Then, uh-oh. Erleada and thyroid. 10% of participants experienced, you guessed it, hypothyroidism. Most likely culprit since my tsh, thyroid stimulating hormone, went way up after I started taking Erleada. The things I do to keep cancer at bay.

Don’t know yet if this is a permanent condition or whether it will wane when (if?) I go Erleada. I see Eigner on April 4th and that will be an early question.

On the bright side of it, however, the levothyroxine seems to have taken hold earlier than Kristen said it would. Almost immediately. And my energy level has gotten soooo much better that

I did something spontaneous yesterday. Combination of Covid, Kate’s long illness, grief, and winter kept me home focused, planning focused, remodeling focused. When I went out, it was to pick up groceries, takeout, deliver food, occasionally go to mussar or down the hill for a medical appointment. And come straight home. Relieved and happy to return.

Yesterday though. I had breakfast with Alan at the Parkside cafe. We talked about his recent trip to NYC. His daughter Francesca has moved there. My burst of energy. His learning about a Catholic priest studying genocide that I’ll write more about when I get his website from Alan. Commercial property vacancies. Taxes. And other stuff like friends do.

When I waved to him as he headed toward his Tesla, I thought. What the hell. It’s a nice day. I’ll go to the Container Store. Something I’ve been to do ever since the almost completion of my kitchen remodeling. I sat in Ruby for a minute refreshing my memory of its Lone Tree location. The map on my phone pointed me into Denver for the closest location.

Nah. I want to go in and out. Back home. That was last three plus years thinking. Found my way down North Turkey Creed Road to 285 and headed east intending to get on 470 and drive to Lone Tree. Got to about Indian Hills and thought, What the hell? It’s a nice day.

I pulled off the road. Called Jon. No answer. Called Gabe since Ruth is usually asleep until noon. Could I meet them for a late lunch after I went to the Container Store. Yes.

OK. Then. Instead of 470 I continued on 285 to University Avenue, past Swedish Hospital where I took Kate so many times to University Avenue and headed north to Cherry Creek. Cherry Creek is Edina, Grosse Pointe, Shaker Heights only in the city of Denver.

After driving past the University of Denver with its fauz Gothic buildings and Iliff Seminary, both fine Methodist institutions, I hit the Cherry Hall Shopping Center. Gucci. Yeti. With free standing stores. And one very big Container Store.

It’s motto, improbably to this sometime metaphysician, is Where space comes from! It was 10:30 on a Sunday morning. The folks shopping looked college aged, maybe from the University of Denver? I wandered, getting a gestalt of the plastic and glass containers for cereals, coffee beans, rice, flour. Looking for lazy susans for under my sink and in my spick/cooking oils cabinets. Dividers for my silverware drawer. That sort of thing.

Picked out a few things, paid my bill, went to the car. Called the Aurora Olsons and we settled on Stanley Marketplace for sushi. There I saw Ruth as a shyly proud young woman who has experienced the attentions of a young man. So, so sweet. And, made the spontaneity feel more than worth it.

After we finished, she opened her arms for a hug. “You’re my sweetheart,” I said. “And Cord’s.” She replied. Sorry Kate’s not seeing this.

Back home I fed a hungry Kep. Got back right at his feeding time which pleased him. Me, too.

Sat down, pleased with my self for a simple joy. And thought, if this were to be my life, that would be ok.