Category Archives: Aging

Grab It, Now!

 

Winter                                                      Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Just back from the former Kinko’s, printing the invitation for Kate’s retirement party, Coming of Age: the Art of Retirement.  We have entered the good-bye phase of life.  Good-bye to work.  Good-bye to cousins, aunts, uncles.  Good-bye to homes and states.  Good-bye to life.  Viewed from the vantage point of youth this must seem a dreadfully depressing, black life stage, in fact the opposite is true.  As death comes closer, most of us finally get the message:  live in the now.  Live today, not in regrets about yesterday or anxiety about the future.

A calmness comes with this perspective, a realization that this life, this moment has the only juice you’ll ever get.  So, we try to ring as much as possible out of the day:  Ike’s funeral, Kate’s retirement, the days we have when we’re able to garden and tend the bees, the opportunities we have to work on environmental advocacy, to roam the museum and spend hours talking about art, to eat and talk with friends like the Woolly Mammoths.  These are life.

Corny as it sounds, I always liked the very existential Schlitz ad:  You only go round once in life, grab all the gusto you can.  Laissez bon temps rouler!

Good-Bye, Ike

Winter                                                      Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

The oldest cousin on my mother’s side died on Christmas Eve.  Isaac, Ike, Jones always had a special place in the family as the first child of my mom’s five siblings.   The last of mom’s siblings, my Aunt Roberta, died several years ago and we cousins became the older generation.  Now, for the first time, death has invaded our numbers.

Ike’s death was, in many ways, a blessing.  A victim of a nasty spinal condition that left his head permanently inclined forward, Ike suffered a bad fall in March and never really recovered.  In the end his lungs gave out.  We weren’t close, perhaps he was the most distant of all the cousins, but he’s still family, part of us and now part of our memories.

No one really knows what death, the most shrouded ancientrail is like.  Does life just wink out with the last breath, the last heartbeat, the last brainwave?  Jews believe the spirit stays around the body for a few days, thus the careful and personal treatment a corpse receives in traditional Jewish practice.  My friend, Gyatsho, believed that after 49 days his soul got a new incarnation based on karma and the attitude near death.  Many people in the obituaries believe the dead meet Jesus, or go to heaven, or greet family and friends who died before them.

You never see it in the obituaries but some believe in a place of eternal punishment, the last fork on the ancientrail leading to hell.

I have no idea what happens after death though the most likely thing to me is extinction.  We simply become no more as a Self, eventually dispersing our elements back to the universe from which they came.

The Greeks, it seems to me, had the most cogent idea; that is, we live in our deeds, our family, our legacy.  Even so, for most of us, the legacy will not amount to much, perhaps a generation’s remembrance at Thanksgiving meals, family reunions.  Then, we’ll become one of those sepia photos  a later generation will pick up and say, “Who was this?”

Or, perhaps not.  It’s possible that the internet has become an engine of immortality, allowing our words, pictures, even our consumer habits to live on, perhaps in the cloud?  In this case perhaps my great-grandchild will access Ancientrails much as you do, reading of one life, at least the bits and pieces that end up on a page or in photographs.  What might we call this?  ByteLife.  CyberMemory.  Life in the Cloud.  SiliconeForever. (no, wait, that’s those breast implants.)  Life According to Electricity.

You, Yes You, Are Invited

Winter                                            Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

If you read ancientrails, you’ll likely get an invitation either by e-mail or snail mail or by hand.  But, if you don’t, and you see it here and can come,  please come.  The idea is the more the merrier. Kate’s retiring and we want to mark the occasion with friends of both of us.

We’ve scheduled the party during the Third Thursday event at the MIA because the museum puts on a different face and has lot of extra activities.  We’ll have appetizers and beverages in the Wells Fargo Room.

The art work here is a piece I commissioned from Chicago artist, Deb Yankowski, in honor of this transition.   More details to come.

You’re Invited To An Event

Coming of Age:  The Art of Retirement

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She opens her mouth with wisdom

And the teaching of kindness is on her tongue

Give her credit for the fruit of her labors

And let her achievements praise her at the gates.

(English translation)

January 20th, 5-9 P.M.  Minneapolis Museum of Art

Missing Spirit

Winter                                                            Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice

Wondered if I was missing something.  Turned on the radio to 99.5 and listened to Christmas music, classical variety.  As I just to wrote to my brother and sister, there is some residual Methodist wandering around in my head, recalling those nights in the church on John Street, candles winking out as congregants extinguished them, leaving the sanctuary in darkness, a voice, in this particular instance, a voice from the Metropolitan Opera, a hometown gal who’d made it big in the big city, singing out of that darkness, O Holy Night.  Still sends shivers up my spine.

There is, too, a small boy waiting for Santa Claus and the luster of mid-day on objects below.  He misses the Christmas tree and the presents and the music.  And family.  Perhaps most of all family.

These both are, however, voices from my past, valued and warmly received when they emerge, but no longer vital in my present, just as the music of the 60’s or the cars of the 50’s still recall a good time, an important time, but a time now gone by.

I pressed the cd button and returned to the lectures on Big History, this time a review of the paleolithic, a historical era critical for our species, but often overlooked.  In this time we migrated first to the southern rim of Asia, then across the waters to Australia, and through Asia, across the land bridge to North America.  Each one of these migrations a test for our new specie’s capacity for collective learning, each one requiring a new set of skills, new tricks to wring energy and resources out of a new environment.  These were tests we passed and in that passing set the stage for our current dominance of the earth’s biosphere.

Christmastime and the Christmas spirit no longer enfolds me as it once did, sweeping down after thanksgiving and placing me in the confusing mix of retail extravaganza and high religious celebration.  Now the Solstice carries some of that numinosity for me, but none of the commercial buzz.  I don’t miss the maw of gifts and money and credit, false gods if ever there were ones.  Quiet, calm, still.  Dark, meditative, inward.  That’s the reason for the season for me now.

So, I’m glad for a place of peace as the Christmas machine churns anxiously all around me.  Still into the incarnation though.

Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice Eve                                            Full Moon of the Winter Solstice

My friend Allison sent me a link to this article, There Goes The Sun.  It contains an excellent digest of solstice activity around the world and also explains some of the astronomical oddities attached to it.  Good reading.

Here’s another tack, a way of setting yourself in the context of the solar system, and, in that way, in the context of the cosmos, headed in one direction–out, external–and another that places you in the context of mother earth, the animal kingdom, mammals, hominids and your self, headed in another direction–inward.

As an astronomical event this solstice marks a transition, for those of us on earth in temperate latitudes, from a day with mostly darkness toward the inverse, experienced on the summer solstice when we make the transition from days with mostly light and again head toward darkness.  From the solar system perspective all that really happens is the earth returns to a spot on its orbit where its angle of declination spreads light out over a wider area, making its affect weaker.  The sun burns on, hydrogen turning to helium, vast amounts of energy released in this fusion reaction, radiating out from the sun toward the planets it holds in thrall.

The sun itself is one of 100-400 billion stars in our Milky Way Galaxy.  “Its name is a translation of the Latin Via Lactea, in turn translated from the Greek Γαλαξίας (Galaxias), referring to the pale band of light formed by stars in the galactic plane as seen from Earth.” Wikipedia.   How many galaxies altogether?  Estimates run as high as 500 billion.  I offer this to give you a sense of the particular significance of one moment in the orbit of one planet around just one of our galaxy’s suns.

Coming in toward you though, we can follow a different ancientrail.  This one responds to the specificity of the solstice and its impact on our northern home–winter.  Squirrels bury nuts.  Bears hibernate.  Dogs grow a coat of inner fur.  Human homes turn on furnaces and humans clothe themselves in ways designed to keep in heat.  Plants like daffodils, tulips, garlic, parsnips and lilies lie at rest in the soil during the cold period brought on by the solstice and the time just before and after it.  We have adapted to the return of the sun to this particular spot in the sky; and, without those adaptations this change in solar intensity would kill us.  In other words this event, so very insignificant when considered against the back drop of 500 billion galaxies, matters critically to those of us here, on Sol’s third planet, Earth.

There is a chance, tomorrow night, the Winter Solstice night, to abide with the darkness and the quiet, Stille Nacht; a chance to light a candle and meditate, take an hour, maybe more, to consider what has taken place in your life since light dominated the day, a time that ended on and around the fall equinox and how it may have changed as the dark began to grow more and more dominant.  This is not, and this is important, a once in a life event; no, this is a once a year time, a point where we can consider our lives, where we can go beyond our animal response to temperature and light, move inward toward the depth of our selves, that inner well where the uniqueness of you dwells.  You can spend time listening to the Self who contains not only who you are today, but who you could become tomorrow.

Or, you could pile up the wood, light the fire, dance naked under the stars and the full winter solstice moon, daring the sun to keep hiding, challenging it to start its journey, or, better to continue its journey, or, even better, challenge the earth to continue its journey so that the suns radiation will strike us with increasing intensity.  The Swedes have such celebrations, will be having them tomorrow night.  Seems a bit much for Minnesota, but there’s always a first time.

Chainsaw and Snowblower. Watch out.

Samhain                                                  Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

An inside day today.  Tomorrow outside.  A little bit of chainsaw action on trees broken by the early wet snow in November.  Some snowblower work on the sidewalk, clearing a wider path to the front door.

I also have some mulch to lay down.  A bit late, not for mulching, but for the mulch which is in garden bags on our patio.  Frozen I imagine.  I might have to take a sledge hammer to it.

Maybe some soup making if I have any energy left in the afternoon.

The oldest cousin on my mother’s side, Ikey, has entered a nursing home for what sounds like hospice care.  He was the oldest son of Uncle Ike and Aunt Marjorie, my mom’s oldest sister.  When the sickle begins to bite into the generation of my family to which I belong, it has a frisson not there when my mother’s generation died off and eventually out.  I was never close to Ikey, but to most of the rest of my cousins I have relationships nurtured by at least every two year visits.  They’re mostly in Indiana, where I was raised.  A note for Ike, for peace and calm.

Still Learning

Samhain                                                                    Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

The moon light, bright in the southern sky, casts shadows, thin skeletons of trees and shrubs splayed out upon the snow.

This Latin stuff is fun.  Going back and forth among dictionaries, grammars, websites, puzzling out the verbs and the nouns, trying to fit it all together into English, peeking inside Ovid, at least reading Ovid in his native language.  I know it’s weird, but I really enjoy it.

I feel about it like I feel about art history; I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  On the other hand the two together give this final third of my life mental vitality.  I’m only getting started.

Oh.  Picked up the novel I’d set aside, about a third done.  It has promise.  Need to find time for it.

The Civil War

Samhain                                                 Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

The NYT has started a series focusing on the civil war, looking back 150 years ago.   Lincoln has just been elected and the country has an internal division not matched again until, perhaps, the 1960’s, the War’s one hundredth anniversary.  The Civil War fascinates me and I’ve visited several battlefields, as I’ve said here before.  I’ve been especially interested in the war’s execution, why did the North win and the South lose?  What have been the subsequent ramifications?  Did Lincoln’s execution, which put Andrew Johnson in the Presidency, set back the integration of African-Americans into American society by a century or more?  What did we learn?  I look forward to a several year focus on the war, raising these questions anew.

A quiet physical.  Saw Tom Byfield there, apparently we share a doctor.  Tom, Davis that is, collects pueblo pottery and has a couple on loan to the MIA.  I didn’t recognize his description, but I’m gonna check’em out.  This time, the first time in a long time, I had no particular concerns to raise.    He found nothing new or remarkable.   The labs will come in, of course, and we’ll see then, but for now, I’m feeling good.

When I drove in today, each exit off Highway 94, starting at Broadway, then 4th street and finally Hennepin/Lyndale had cars backed up onto the freeway.  I took Hennepin/Lyndale thinking there must a traffic jam in the city because of the snow.  Nope.  A peculiar situation, one of those imponderables that happens here when we get lots of snow and very cold weather.  People drive strange.

On the news sheet:  4 bodies in NYC, dumped along a Long Island freeway, might mean a serial killer.  Motorcycle thief steals $1.5 in Bellagio chips, rides away.  So, is it news stories ripped from the television cop dramas or the other way around?

Snow

Samhain                                                  Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

The Winter Solstice comes in a week.  The longest night.  I’ll be there, remembering the triple Goddess, Bridgit, burning a candle and honoring the deep inside of us all.

Yesterday I used the Himalaya’s as a metaphor for parking lot snow.  According to the newspaper this morning I shot too low.  We have all new mountain ranges going up in parking lots and city streets throughout the metro and they’ll be there a long, long time.  This is not a good thing for city budgets.  Snow plowing is expensive.

Looking at snow mountains and threading my way through snowy city streets I have to take this body to its test.  Bye.

Oh, boy.

Samhain                                                Waxing Moon of the Winter Solstice

Annual physical tomorrow morning.  This ritual obeisance to the gods of health and long life are, of course, futile.  No matter how closely we monitor our health, no matter how compliant with diet, exercise and medicines, no matter how meditative and calm we can keep ourselves, entropy will win the day.  It just takes too much energy to keep us fastened together much longer than 90 years, give or take 10 years.  My goal has been, for a long time, not to die from something I could have prevented.  So far, so good.

All kidding aside, I’m happy to do these visits once a year since it’s a minimal investment in surveillance of and for my health.  I do have some anxiety each time though.  Any one of these visits could be the one.  You know, the one where doctor calls back.  Ooops.  We need to do more tests.  Uh-oh.  And, I’m sorry I have to tell you this, there’s just no good way.

In my fantasy this visit never happens.  I live a reasonably healthy life into my late 80’s, early 90’s, then death comes calling.  That’s what I’m aiming for, being healthy till I’m dead.

My new doc, Tom Davis, is a careful guy, an i dotter and a t crosser.  I like that in a doctor.  He’s also calm, unflappable.  I like that, too.

This is my next to last physical under the old regime of private health care carried by Kate and paid for jointly by her and Allina.  Two years from now, I’ll be just another anchor on the ship of our economy, dipping into Medicare to pay these bills.

Here’s to a boring visit and uneventful news.