Category Archives: Aging

Aging, Commentary on Religion, Commentary on the news, Faith and Spirituality, Judaism, Literature, Myth and Story, Politics, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., US History, World History

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither can you desist from it.

November 5, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Samain Thanksgiving Moon

weeping-buddha-1 He sits, early in the morning, while it is still dark outside, with his head in his hands. Orion, his longtime friend hangs in the sky visible to the southwest, Scorpio and Cassiopeia and the Drinking Gourd out there, too. A crescent Thanksgiving Moon, waxing toward its Super Moon event on November 25th, was visible last night.

If only the world could be quiet, serene, beautiful like the 5 am dark sky here on Shadow Mountain. No pussy grabbing. No complaints about raping 13 year old girls. No encouragement of political violence. No cynical comments about the validity of our electoral process.

Perhaps he could just slip away, go to some Trump Island in the the general area of Antarctica or maybe a luxury masted sailing ship forever circling the diminishing sea ice of the North Pole. Like Frankenstein’s creation. I would make a comparison between Trump and Frankenstein’s monster, but the monster was Frankenstein.

monster In this case Trumpism is the monster, a living candidacy patched together from a body of populist resentment, the brain of a nativist bigot, the nervous system of fearful white males and the legs of second-amendment worshipping other-phobic citizens. The arms, though, the arms are Trump’s, dangling like the tentacles of a squid, ready to grab, squeeze, embrace. Force. Trump is Frankenstein to this political moment in the Republican Party. The GOP provided the lightning that brought this monster to life and has paraded it with pride through this mockery of a campaign.

These are the most perilous political times in which I have lived. There are milita’s preparing an armed response to a potential Hillary gun-grabbing presidency. Our to this point normative peaceful transition of power after a Presidential election is under threat. This is a core feature of our democracy. The stakes on one issue, strangely absent from the campaign, are ultimate, the very survival of the human race may hang in the balance: climate change. The timer counting down the years in which we can still soften the blow of advancing global warming nears its alarm.

hamlet Race relations are in a visibly violent phase. Police kill black folks with so steady a drumbeat that it has become like Trump’s long string of insults to America, dulling our capacity for outrage. Misogyny is at its peak in the Donald, powerful at the same time as our first serious female candidate.

The Forever War has captured our youth, our money, our tolerance. We bomb and shoot and strike with drones, again dulling our capacity for outrage by desensitization.

I am not a man given to despair. Hamlet, that most existential of Shakespeare’s plays, offers a choice in the often quoted to be or not to be soliloquy. Do we suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them? I know my answer.

Rabbi Tarfon is credited with this quote: “It is not incumbent upon you to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it” (Avot 2:21). wiki This is a wonderful thought because it drives directly against despair, relieving us of the expectation of finishing our political work, yet not letting us set it aside either.

So, when confronted with the potential momentary success of hate-filled, other-despising politics, those of us committed to a diverse, egalitarian world must not pull back, must not flee to Canada, must not despair. We are not, as Rabbi Tarfon said, at liberty to desist.

Aging, Commentary on Religion, Cooking, Faith and Spirituality, Family, Health, Jefferson County, Judaism, Memories, Music, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Retirement, Shadow Mountain, US History

Knee, Birthday, 60s, Cold

November 4, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Samain Thanksgiving Moon

A diverse day, yesterday. Down to Orthocolorado for a “class” about my knee surgery. Not bad, not great.

20161103_130418 At 12:30 we drove over to Evergreen for mussar at Beth Evergreen. It was Rabbi Jamie’s birthday and each woman brought a cooked or purchased offering of some kind. We had cranberry juice with tea and mint, apple juice, brie and a wonderful soft cheese, warm carrots, pistachios, cashews, strawberries, grapes, melon, crackers, chips, guacamole, a birthday cake, sea-salt caramel and chocolate brownies (Kate, see pic), with Halloween plates and napkins.

Later in the afternoon, around 5, we went down Shadow Mountain and spent an hour or so at Grow Your Own. This is a hydroponics shop, a head shop, a wine shop and a place to hear local musicians. Last night there was a former member of Steppenwolf playing guitar, a singer from a group called the Bucktones and a guy named Stan, who looked like the aging owner of a hardware store, playing bass. Time erodes the vocal chords so the singing was spirited and practiced, but range and timber suffered. Guitar chops however seemed undiminished.

The crowd was Kate and me like, gray hair, wrinkles. That question that comes to me often these days was germane: what did you do in the sixties? I don’t ask, at least not yet, but I do wonder what long-haired, dope-smoking, radical politics lie beneath the walkers and penchant for the music of yester year.

Then home to a boiler that’s out. After just having been serviced. The perfect end to an interesting day.

Aging, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Health

The Orthopedic parts department called. My new knee is in.

October 27, 2016 Charles 2 Comments

Fall Hunter Moon

The big news here on Shadow Mountain. Orthopedic surgeon William Peace added some surgery days. Result: total knee replacement on December 1st. I’m excited because this pain is distracting and medication intensive. Currently using CBD’s and acetaminophen during the day and vicodin at night. This works, sort of, but I still can’t exercise, hike, twist suddenly, get up and down easily.

Kate and I had our first ever joint pain management doctor’s appointment. The family that confronts pain together smiles more. She’s got a bad left shoulder, pain in both wrists and bursitis in her right hip. Makes it hard to get comfortable for sleep. She got a cortisone injection for the bursitis and a referral to a rheumatologist for new treatments. She has rheumatoid arthritis in addition to osteo. Since they moved up the date of my surgery from next January to December 1, I just got a script for vicodin.

So much for the organ recital

It’s surprising, but all this medical stuff, a steady drip since we moved to Colorado almost two years ago, seems pretty superficial. Not unimportant, but more like maintenance for the car. Gotta do it to keep the thing running right.

20161023_113218 — mule deer in neighbor’s yard yesterday

The important stuff is life: grandkids, divorce, Jon, Beth Evergreen, needlework and writing groups, the mountains, our time together, being creative, the dogs, old friends and new, Evergreen, Denver, politics, climate change work.

And the third phase of life, closer to death, much closer, than to birth, makes all these things sweeter, more precious. I find myself often struck by their emotional power. Their presence in our lives creates the micro-world that sustains us.

Blessed be.

Aging, Beyond the Boundaries, Commentary on Religion, Faith and Spirituality, Family, Humanities, Jefferson County, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant.

Living Consciously

September 9, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Lugnasa Harvest Moon

Two great quotes yesterday. One from our mussar group: I never saw a U-Haul trailer behind a hearse. The second from a comment on a NYT article on the meaning of life: You say No Matter, I say Never Mind.

Mussar. It’s September, the days are cooling down and years of Septembers have me getting ready to accelerate my study. This year a focus will be mussar.

Mussar is defined here by Rabbi Ira Stone, of the Mussar Leadership Program: “The most accurate translation of the word mussar into English is “discipline,” defined in all three ways we use the word in English. Mussar defines a discrete area of study, like the discipline of physics. It describes a practice, as in “it takes discipline to practice piano every day.” It also describes the act of correcting behavior, as in “you must discipline the child.””

In our study of the Way of the Just, begun yesterday at Congregation Beth Evergreen (CBE) and led by Rabbi Jamie Arnold, we talked about the purpose of life. Rabbi Jamie offered what he said was a traditional Jewish perspective: Experience happiness fully. Experience sadness fully. And in the times between be content. Works for me.

It feels good to have some anchors in Evergreen now. Our work with Bear Creek Design will introduce us to the contractors who do work for them. Kate’s study of Hebrew and our mutual study of mussar has begun to open up relationships at CBE for CBE. This means Evergreen is no longer a destination only for restaurants and shopping, but also for community.

Aging, Art and Culture, Family, Friends, Jefferson County, Shadow Mountain, Third Phase, Woolly Mammoths, Writing

Acts of Creation

August 17, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Lugnasa Superior Wolf Moon

Just to let you know that the Superior Wolf Moon daily reminder has been working. I’m over 17,000 words into this new novel. It feels like some of the best work I’ve done. Of course, I always think that at the beginning of a project.

Kate’s birthday is tomorrow. 72. She works as hard now as she did when I first met her though she may not be able to sustain the work as long as she could. Neither can I. She’s remarkable and I’ll have a birthday post for her later today.

On Friday, buddy Mark Odegard has his “Bridges of the Mississippi” opening. He’s been working for the last year or so on this wonderful print series. It’s a contemporary, jazzy look at these important connectors. We think of crossing the Mississippi every day as a non-event, usually. And that’s because of these bridges that he has memorialized. They’re the often ignored civil engineering projects that make the Twin Cities possible. He’s made a unique contribution to our seeing them, an artist’s true task, sharpening and nuancing our perceptions of the world around us.

On a similar note, Jon Olson, step-son and art teacher, has developed a unique print making style that utilizes found, crushed metal objects. He picks them up from the sides of highways and streets, brings them here or to his art classroom in Aurora, inks them up and runs them through a press. In this way he’s printing directly from the object, like Mark, sharpening and nuancing our perceptions of the world around us.

Aging, Family, Jefferson County, Our Land and Home, Third Phase

Shadow Mountain Journal August 5th

August 6, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Lugnasa Superior Wolf Moon

County officials lifted the fire ban, a level II, which bans all fires in Jefferson County, at midnight last night. We’ve had a few cool, wet days in a row. As August continues, the fire danger tends to decrease, though doesn’t fade until sometime in September.

Jon’s back in his art room, getting ready for his students. The grandkids come up today for the day. The divorce continues to rake its nails across all our lives. How to be gracious is a challenge. But, a good one.

Kate and I went over to Bear Creek Designs in Evergreen yesterday. We made an appointment for Monday to pick out materials for the bathroom remodel. “Oh, aging in place renovation?” Molly asked, “Getting out ahead of it, eh?” Yes, the work over the next few years will take into account the fact that after February we’ll both be in our 70’s. Just part of the third phase.

Aging, Family, Great Wheel, Jefferson County, Memories, Minnesota, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Sinking Behind Black Mountain

July 29, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Summer Park County Fair Moon

The sun is on its way down, sinking behind Black Mountain. I don’t often write in the evenings anymore because I’m usually downstairs in the house. Tonight I came up after a sweatshirt. It gets cool reliably around 7 pm or so.

It also gets quieter here in the evening. The motorcyclists have made it to wherever they were headed. The cars loaded with camping gear have found a spot for the night. The Denver tourists headed to Upper Maxwell Falls trailhead have returned to the city. No bicyclists. No one walking their dog. A few people are still arriving home from work, probably having driven from downtown Denver.

This has been a hard week. Jon’s most recent encounter with the courts got at least part of the divorce mess sorted out. Kate drove home from Jackson Hole. The last of the painting project is almost wrapped up. Kate and I went to the grocery store today, a task that proves physically difficult with our mutual arthritic thises and thatses. The days have been warmer than I prefer, though definitely more tolerable than Denver proper.

A possible arc upward does seem hidden in the detritus. Jon has more predictability now in his life. The long work of staining and painting has all but ended which means no more extra cars and people around during the day. BJ’s injury is healing, headed toward what her surgeon believes will be a good recovery. He says she should be playing again in a couple of months.

Lugnasa lies just ahead, two days. That means the peak heat of the summer has begun to wane. The nights will get cooler, the days shorter. Welcome changes. Summer is my least favorite season and was so even during our intensive gardening days in Andover. I don’t like the heat, even the more modest heat that we get here. The vegetables and fruits and bees needed it, we welcomed its results, but not its presence. I’ll be glad to move into August, even more so September.

Aging, Asia, Faith and Spirituality, Family, Great Wheel, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Third Phase

Becoming Vishnu

July 27, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Summer Park County Fair Moon

Vishnu is the Hindu god of stability, the preserver and protector. When I look at the Hindu pantheon, my eye has always gone to Shiva, the god of creation and destruction, the whirling vibrant energy of the universe. Were I Hindu, I would be a Shaivite. But as we’ve aged, as we’ve become the members of our family and, for that matter, of our generation, at the edge of extinction, it has become clear to me that Vishnu defines us better.

When we stand, as we do, between life and death, life itself takes on a different color, a different valence. That’s not to say that we don’t always stand between life and death, life is fragile and death, in its entropic way, more natural. But as we veer past the mid-60’s, the path from birth to death has grown long and its terminus closer.

We stand, too, at the end of our ancientrail, able to look back over the days and years with gathered wisdom. At least sometimes. Shiva forces are at work in our children’s lives and especially in the lives of our grandchildren, creating careers, destroying dreams, unfolding the future. Our reach now extends into those lives as a somewhat distant, but sometimes intimate force, offering stability and protection. We have become the avatars of Vishnu.

The role is unnatural for me, having been more of a bomb thrower in my youth and in my middle-age, too. The Vaishnavite forces, always there, for we are a mix of all these fundamental powers, have gradually strengthened, gained more purchase. It’s possible, I suppose, to see Shiva as the radical, willing to take apart received wisdom, to burn institutions to the ground, to start over and over and over, and Vishnu as the conservative, or at least conservator, the solid, steady hand needed when Shiva’s work has gone too far.

The Hindu trinity of Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma, the God of origins, the creator force who lives now distant from the work of his creation, constitutes, like the Christian trinity, an expression of the one god in three manifestations. Like the Great Wheel it is a poetic, a metaphorical expression of the nature of reality. You may choose to believe that these gods are real and I wouldn’t argue the choice, but in my maturing understanding of religious belief, all the world’s religion are artistic renderings of the subtle and not-so subtle forces set in motion at the big bang. No, they are not all the same, hardly; but they are all attempts to give expression and coherence to the context of this temporary, wonderful miracle we call life.

So, it’s not surprising to me that in this third phase of my life, I find a purpose defined by a Hindu god. We arrive at this moment shaped and pulled by the paths we have chosen. Our ancietrail is now more experience than future. As Vishnu rises in our lives, that experience becomes his form, the vital energy that allows us to serve as anchor for our family, for our community, for the world we’re passing on to our children and grandchildren.

I said above that the Vishnu role is unnatural to me. Perhaps I should say that it was unnatural to the younger me. Now, it seems natural, necessary, good. The maintainer and protector.

Aging, Dogs, Family, Health, Writing

Weather, Vision, Life

May 19, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane Running Creeks Moon

This last round of snow, ice and colder weather got a lot of grumbles. Fortunately, we didn’t get the 5 inches predicted and the roadways were warm enough to melt what fell, but the part of our bodies that wants blue skies and somewhat warmer temperatures felt cheated. Not rational, I know. And the snow was pretty as always. But still.

Today Dr. Repine gets a look at my eyeballs, a glaucoma check, and a refraction. Might produce new reading lenses. After that we’re going to Whistling Duck, a carpentry shop specializing in beetle kill/blue pine. Our upstairs dining is still on the round bar table we bought as a temporary measure the month we moved in.

Life’s been eventful since our return from Asia with Vega’s death, the legal wrassling and the reluctant iconoclast moment. There’s another major event swirling in our lives right now, too, one I can’t write about openly yet. Not a health issue, not about Shadow Mountain or any of its residents.

Last night I got glimpses into the way forward on both Jennie’s Dead and Superior Wolf. That means my creative mind has emerged from the fog of image expunging. The Superior Wolf concept pushed me back to the origin idea, made me see that the way forward lay in the mythos, starting the story at the beginning. Solving a way for a magician to pull off a remarkable trick pushes the storyline of Jennie’s Dead past a road block. Feels good.

Aging, Family, Feelings, Health, Memories, Science

I heart heart

May 12, 2016 Charles Leave a comment

Beltane Running Creeks Moon

The things life splices together. Yesterday Kate had an appointment with her cardiologist. I went with her. She showed me the report of her echocardiogram, we discussed the cardiologist’s finding. All very clinical. Yes, the heart is a muscle and one which can be graded and observed at many levels. It has ejection fractions. leaflets, diffusions and profusions, valves and chambers. The fine tuning of the heart’s care is a substantial branch of medicine.

The heart is also, and perhaps more importantly, a metaphor. For love. For feeling. For courage and persistence. For essence. For intimacy. The metaphor can, too, be graded and observed at many levels. Heartless bastard. In my heart. I heart NYC, you, my dog, my honor school student, my rifle, my concealed carry handgun. That gets right to the heart of things. My heart is heavy. You have heart. My heart belongs to you.

Why might the metaphor be more important than the muscle? Because love lives on past the stilling of the muscle. Kate and I spliced together the cardiologist appointment with a visit to DazzleJazz, hearing the Keith Oxman quartet and Dr. Diva, a singing professor from Nebraska. We sat next to each other, she rested her head on my shoulder. We whispered and touched. My heart belongs to her. And that muscle so closely examined a few hours before? No match for her true heart, the one that belongs to me.

BTW: usual aging heart stuff for Kate. Blood pressure meds now. Attention to diet, keep up with the tai chi. Some upper body resistance work. We can push back against the dying of the light, but it goes out anyhow. Something, sometime. Yet love remains.