Category Archives: Family

I mean, really?

Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Shabbat gratefuls: Shadow of the morning. Snow at last! Cold. 10 degrees. Winter. Vince. Joe coming this week.  Ruth and her wrist. Dean’s list again. Gabe. Starting his last semester of high school. Ginny and Janice. Luke and Leo. Minnesota. Colorado. Blue state resisters. My homes.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Minnesota

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Year Kavannah: Creativity.   Yetziratiut.   “Inspiration exists, butten-bows-wildwood-tarot it has to find you working.”  Pablo Picasso

Week Kavannah:  Wholeness. Shleimut.                                                “The concept of shleimut extends beyond the individual, applying to relationships (finding a life partner with whom one feels complete) and the community (mending societal cracks to achieve collective creativity and flourishing).”

Tarot: Ten of Bows, responsibility.

  • The central meaning of the card is shouldering a significant weight of duties, obligations, or stress, either for yourself or others. Although the burden is heavy, the card also suggests that you are close to the finish line of a major project or life cycle. The end goal is in sight, and persistence is needed to reach it.

One brief shining: Shleimut and the ten of bows resonate with each other since another meaning of shleimut involves tikkun olam, or repair of the world; the joining of these two ideas in these, the years of devastation and degradation of a once great nation, remind us that though the path winds ever upward and our burden can seem unbearable, our journey toward wholeness, restoration demands much of us, perhaps all of us.

 

Dog journal: Shadow now trots inside as if the threshold, what threshold, dad?, were no longer a vampire-like barrier which she had not been invited to cross. Oh, happy day! Well, most of the time. Sometimes she needs a bit of encouragement. But only very occasionally. Thank you, Natalie, Dr. Josy, prozac, and those pheromones. Oh, and Nathan, too.

Her life and mine. Again, together.

 

Family: Set up a zoom call with my sister, Mary, in Melbourne, and my brother, Mark, in Hafar, Saudi Arabia. Not many time slots when we’re all awake. To make it work, I agreed to start the call at 9 pm, MST. Well past my bedtime. 3 pm for Mary and 7 am for Mark.

If you draw a triangle using Shadow Mountain, Melbourne, and Hafar as its points, it would almost be an equilateral with 8,000 miles on each side. That’s sibling dispersion. Little bits of Alexandria, Indiana spread apart from Alexandria and each other.

After looking up those distances, I decided to look for Shadow Mountain’s antipode. According to this website, antipodes map, tunneling straight through Mother Earth from here would land me under the waters of the Pacific, somewhere east of the main island of New Zealand. So, I won’t do that cause I’d drown.

 

Just a moment: So the only limits on red tie guy’s foreign policy is, in his own words during an NYT interview, “My own morality.” Oh, my.

Yeah. This from the guy who’s said he would “accept” the Nobel Peace Prize if Venezuela’s winner of this year’s prize, María Corina Machado, offers it to him. Managing to combine ignorance (of who gives the prize) with narcissism, greed, envy, and lust. I mean, really?

 

Christmas Edition

Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Christmas gratefuls: Children, all the children. Christmas Trees. Wassail bowls. Yule logs. Mistletoe. Holly and Ivy. The whole pageant of pagan appropriations. Merry Christmas, everyone. Snow. Ice. Wherefore art thou? Shadow of the morning. All those who are alone, bereft, unloved on this day in particular. Friends and family. Wild Neighbors and the Rocky Mountains.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Tara, Marilyn and Irv

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.    Radical amazement, awe.

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Tara brings all black, curly haired puppy Eleanor and all white, curly haired Kingsley; they run down the stairs yin and yang on four legs, out the back door and into doggy freedom, while they play Tara and I talk. Humans, eh?

A Christmas edition of Ancientrails. Nostalgia carries me into Christmas, any Christian embers long extinguished. The pagan accretions, the family and friends celebrating. Yes. The incarnation. No.

Jacquie Lawson, the e-card company, puts out a fun animated Advent calendar and I buy one each year. It’s heavy on traditional Christmas themes like Snow, sledding, Santa, hot chocolate, with a soupcon of baby Jesus. This year’s version had an English village setting with the village gaining buildings as the days progressed. A sweet immersion in the parts of Christmas that still matter to me. Very well done.

Yule makes more sense to me with its Evergreen Trees, Holly, and Ivy. Its emphasis on Fire as the human imitation of Great Sol. Wassailing, feasting, singing songs. Celebrating the essential and inextricable relationship between humans and their parents: Mother Earth and Great Sol.

So throw that Yule log on the Fire, drink from a flagon made of Elk Horn, listen to the lute and the zither, and sing the night away into the coming of the light. You pagan you.

 

In saying my piece about the difficult realms of my inner world I put them out there, on the page, away from the clanging cauldron of my doubts. They no longer have the power of hidden things. Does not make them dissolve, no.

Yet. Their power diminishes in the air. Looking back to yesterday’s post, I can see them as part of my larger whole, and only part. That alone puts them in conversation with the strength of my will, with the love of friends and family, with  the sacred energy of my nephesh which joins  my Self to the collective unconscious. In that broader, richer context the self-insulting and self-negating thoughts have to contend with years of reflection and self-understanding. Their obscurantism evaporates, sending them back to their subterranean homes in Kubla Khan’s caverns measureless to man (sic).

Also, when they’re out folks can raise them with me. Diane helped me today with two stuck places: exercise. I committed to resistance work only for the next few weeks. Being weak really bugs me. She also helped me see that reading and writing can indeed be my purpose now. Thanks, cuz.

 

Grandkids

Yule and the Moon of New Beginnings

Sunday gratefuls: Ruth. Gabe. Hannukah. Presents all round. Positive affirmations. Yule. Winter Solstice. Alan. Joanne. Hummingbird. Mechanical puzzles. Challah. French toast. Donuts. Shadow away. Gabe admitted to Hamline. Joe. His smile. Applications for school. Shadow Mountain Home. Nathan and the Dog run.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Puzzles

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Yirah.    Radical amazement, awe.

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”
― Albert Einstein

Becoming a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Blue and white Hannukah gift bags assembled on the table when Ruth and Gabe came inside after their drive up the hill from Denver; Gabe got the menorah and a box of Hannukah candles from the Judaica closet, brought them down to the breakfast table where Ruth busied herself lighting each candles base to seat them in the menorah.

 

The best thank you. As soon we’d finishing opening our presents, Gabe had a puzzle in his hands, already determined. Later on, Ruth, too. These aren’t garden variety puzzles. They come from Kubiya games, ranked in level of difficulty, 1-5. After Gabe finished last year’s puzzles pretty fast, this time I got all 5 level.

He asked me if his struggle was making me happy. I said yes. He laughed.

A season pass to A-Basin, Ruth’s big Hannukah present, had a few smaller ones added to it. A wall-size chromatic color chart, a jigsaw puzzle, vintage, of the human skeleton, and a Silence, Please coffee mug from the Bodleian Library. Gabe got a mug, too.

We’ve been doing Hannukah together since Kate and I moved here eleven years ago yesterday. Some of those early years Jen, Jon, Ruth, Gabe, Kate. Apres divorce no Jen. After Kate died no Kate. After Jon died no Jon. Now the three of us carry on, adding memories and time together.

Gabe got admitted to, and wants to attend, Hamline College in St. Paul. Hamline sits on Snelling Avenue which, further south, runs past St. Paul Central High School, Joe’s alma mater.

My old buddy, Howard Vogel, taught Constitutional Law at Hamline’s law school for many years. Jon graduated from Augsburg College not too faraway in Minneapolis. I lived in St. Paul for several years and Kate and I bought our first house together on Edgcumbe Road. A lot of family history in St. Paul.

Both Ruth and Gabe have finished their semesters. Gabe wants out of high school. So bad. High school sucked, he said echoing more than one senior with only one semester, or as he put it, the final eighth to go.

Ruth completed her first year of pre-med, maintaining her 3.9 gpa and earning the opportunity to become a T.A. in her Chemistry class next semester. She holds down two jobs and carries a full class load.

The grandkids are doing ok.

Again, Recess Is Over

Samain and the Shadow Moon (3 sessions to go)

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, doing her work. The now working Clinac. My life, worth living. Fencing companies. Building a dog run with heated dog house for Shadow. Joe’s willingness. Early Winter. The coming of Hannukah, Yule, the Winter Solstice, Christmas, New Year’s. Holiseason at its peak.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Fences

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:   Malchut  Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Joe, my son, offered to come and build the dog run for Shadow, to set aside for a few days his serious duties and help Dad and his Dog, to do that after a fifteen hour flight from his home, a son a man can be proud of, yet I won’t let him come because this wonderful place where I live often experiences sudden, mighty Snowfalls and if one happened before or when he got here, he would have come 9,000 miles out of love and I would have no dog run. Doesn’t make sense for either of us. Damn it.

 

Shook off the OMG I make bad things happen feelings like Shadow shakes off rain. Still a little wet, but dry enough to feel ok.

When negative feelings crop up, they feed on themselves, multiply like Rabbits. This one begets another one and suddenly a whole life has come under scrutiny, memories retrieved to bolster the black mood.

When I drank, I often followed this spiral: I didn’t go to graduate school. I married stupidly, twice. I’ve not taken a direction in my life, rather let life carry me along like flotsam or jetsam. No agency. Woe is me and my sad, woe begotten life. And all because my mommy died young.

Nope. I’d been making choices all along. Many of them poor: Judy and Raeone, seminary. The Peaceable Kingdom. Not my woe begotten life, a Charlie begotten life that did not synch up with my values. No wonder I felt miserable much of the time.

After sobriety. Still plenty of work to do, to grab life in my own hands, shake it until it made sense, expressed who I saw myself to be. John Desteian helped me through it.

That dream. The pivotal one. I had a sword, held it high in the air over my head, lightning crackling around it while a crowd chanted, “He has the power. He has the power.” Yes, in fact I did and had had it all along. The power to change, to redirect my life.

And so I did.

 

Just a moment: Trump pardons convicted narcotrafficker, Juan Orlando Hernádez. Then, surprise! Honduras issues an arrest warrant for him for money laundering and fraud. Too bad for him Trump is not president of Honduras.

Now let’s play Where’s That Video? Oh, the guy it might indict has control over its release? OK. Will he at least release his actual orders, then? Like Federal Law requires? Again, recess is over. Time to pretend we’re adults now.

I have

Samain and the Shadow Moon

Monday gratefuls: Pictures of Shadow. Missing her. Darkness. Resolve. Football. Da Broncs. And, yes, always-the Vikes. The Nuggets. F1. Alexandria beats Anderson in the Wigwam (sic) 1963? Bobby Plump. The Indy 500. Jim Clark. A.J. Foyt. Mario Andretti and sons. Sports. The Atlanta Rabbits.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gevurah

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah: Malchut     Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Cleaned up the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher, putting dirty dishes in, a cycle, wiped down the counter, washed a sheet pan and a large bowl, poured myself a glass of eggnog, and sat on my stool as my porkchop, broccoli, and potato puffs warmed up.

 

Radiation starts up again today. I think. If the biomed engineering techs got it back up and running. Finishing Thursday, seeing Bupathi on Friday.

Clinac iX. My photo

When I talked to Dr. Carter last Tuesday, he repeated what I keep hearing from various sources. “We’re treating your cancer like a chronic disease.” Hard to say how amazing this statement is. I’ve had stage 4 cancer since 2022 and he says it’s a chronic disease. Stage 4 has, historically, meant the end. And soon. Now, chronic disease. Wow.

On a sidenote. Don’t you think the Clinac looks like an adorable, goofy cartoon Dinosaur?

 

A curiosity: Have been unable to quash these wandering questions, maybe doubts, about my life. Am I a drama King? If everything’s running smoothly, something must be wrong?

Do I push situations in my life toward the extremes? After I quit drinking, I would have, up to this point, have said no. Even after divorcing Raeone and leaving the ministry, I felt strong, like I’d made necessary choices, not pleasant ones, choices to align my life with my values and beliefs.

Then, marrying Kate. We had this wonderful life together where we consistently made choices to support each other, family members in need, to support Mother Earth, to love and care for dogs. To travel the world together. Of course we had our differences, our troubles but we loved our way through them.

The move to Colorado, to be near the grandkids, extended that life into the Rocky Mountains. Where I got cancer. Where Kate got sick and died. Where all four of the dogs we brought with us died. Where I’ve now spent four and a half years in this wonderful home she found without her. Where back pain and a bad hip have left me less than able since Korea in 2023.

Then I adopted Shadow. 10 months ago. An up and down experience. As you, dear reader, already know.

I’ve written because I find writing brings me clarity, is the closest thing to true self-therapy I’ve ever found.

My conclusion, after having written this, looked back with I feel is honesty, I’ll answer my own question. These situations, especially since the move to Colorado, have been moments not of me pushing things to an extreme, but of me being forced by circumstance to confront and deal with real life extremes. Physical illness. Death. Mental illness. Grief. Jon and Jen’s nasty divorce, its fallout, then fallout from his death. Now the life of a dog I love wrestling with her own demons.

And, that’s ok. Life is as it happens. The key question is, do we show up to meet it there. I have.

 

I hope you hear I love you often

Samain and the Radiation Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Napping. Tom’s wonderful pictures. Happy birthday Roxann. The Great Lake Superior. Knife River. Duluth. Two Rivers. Tofte. Gooseberry Falls. Tettegouche. Silver Bay. Lutsen. Cascade Lodge. Grand Marais. Painter’s Point. The Gunflint Trail. Naniboujou Lodge. Isle Royale. So many memories. The Arrowhead. Ely. The Boundary Waters.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth’s Sugar Cream Pie

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  SERENITY   Menucha     Serene, carefree, literally “at rest/comfortable”    “In Jewish tradition, ‘menucha’ (מְנוּחָה) signifies a profound state of spiritual and physical rest, tranquility, peace, and fulfillment, going far beyond merely ceasing work. It is a core concept tied to the Sabbath (Shabbat) and the ultimate spiritual destiny of the soul.” Gemini

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: A bit of Snow, a surge of cold Air as if the weather here knew Thanksgiving had passed and the graver part of the fallow time had come; with the change those Christmas lights and Hanukah decor make sense as Advent starts tomorrow; in the past folks gathered around fires in smoky rooms to tell stories and legends of Raven, of Yggdrasil, of Krampus, of Spider Woman, of children lost in the forest, of Great Bears and Hunters cast into the sky.

 

Black Friday. A day I associate with greed and the exposed dark heart of capitalism. Children clamoring in their innocence for TV ad driven next best things. Toys. Dolls. Video games. Tech. And their parents driven by love into long lines hoping to find the wanted thing at a price they can actually afford.

This represents the nadir of our economy, exploiting parental love by manipulating our children, turning them into agents/influencers working for Mattel, Nintendo, American Beauty and inflicting on those same children as they grow the somehow heart connected thought that the oh so perfect thing can express their affection, or, satisfy their own. Bah, humbug.

No. Not a Scrooge about gifts. I love gifts and gift giving. What I do not love, what I hate is the casual cynicism of marketing that turns gifts into faux transactions, creating false desires, and forcing people into debt. I’m with Tiny Tim and the Christmas Turkey.

The times for gathering with friends and family around food, song, on an icy pond, trekking on snowshoes, those moments I love about holiseason and its many highlights like Samain, Thanksgiving, Hanukah, Christmas, the Winter Solstice, Yule, New Years.

We humans need others of our kind and holiseason offers ample opportunities to draw close. Lord knows we need them all year, yet in the cold and dark of the fallow time, we need them even more.

So I wish for you, as we cross the boundary of Creepy Friday, a season of love and eggnog. Of dreidels and Christmas Trees. Moments of true warmth where the glow of one heart touching another provides comfort and solace.

I hope you hear the words I love you as often as possible, from as many people as possible. And from as many dogs, in their own way, too.

Black Friday

Samain and the Radiation Moon

Friday gratefuls: Chart House. Thanksgiving. Ruth. Shadow, the rascal. Hip pain. The National Guard. Our weakened nation. Colorado. The Rockies. Wyoming. The Wind River Range. Yellowstone. The Druid Pack. Wolf 21. The West. Bison. Elk. Mule Deer. Lodgepole and Bristlecone Pine. The Krummholz line. 14’ers. Skiing. A-Basin. Aspen. Vail. Steamboat. Telluride. Crested Butte. Breckenridge. Copper Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Waxing Moon

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah      “While Chesed is associated with flow, Gevurah provides the structure that allows this flow, acting like river banks to channel energy. It is seen as essential for establishing healthy boundaries, creating space for important work, and preserving what is most valuable.”

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The Chart House sat me at a four top, the last in a full house, where Great Sol’s presence came through a window wall; Mackenzie from Florida, my server, was cheerful and kind asking me if I was ready to order: Caesar Salad, Filet Mignon rare with Garlic mashed Potatoes, and Key Lime Pie which I quit halfway through the Filet, got a box for the rest, and trudged up hill to Ruby, my hip no longer quieted. Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Just a moment: Trump calls out the National Guard. Of West Virginia. To D.C. Where a judge rules their presence illegal. Ignored. Meanwhile a former CIA trained counter terrorism Afghani who lives in the state of Washington decides to drive cross country. Adding tragedy to tragedy. A living remnant of our failed war intersects violently with the idiocy of saving our cities by occupying them.

What does our rotund Dear Leader conclude from this? We need to tighten immigration. No, Donald. You need to stop using military force as a tool of repression and suppression. Instead of following the judge’s order red tie guy wants 500 more troops.

You need to, oh hell, I’ll just say it, resign and take Vance and Hegseth and Noemi and Kennedy with you. You can all live happily in MAHA/MAGA world at Mar-a-Lago while the adults get back to the serious business of governance.

Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Dog journal: Shadow has me looking at animal behavorists. Her behavior baffles me. She continues to hold back from coming inside. No treats, no cajoling, no sweet talk works. She does come inside, on her own time. Where she enjoys her meals, treats, toys, time with me. As if the back and forth of only moments before never happened.

She also, in spite of trying several different methods, will not let me put a leash on her. When I have, rarely, succeeded, she doesn’t seem to mind walking with the leash.

Other than those two behavioral quirks-major ones, I admit-she remains a sweet, loving girl who sleeps curled next to my pillow, enjoys treat play, toys, visitors both canine and human.

 

Health: The hip steroid injection does not seem to be holding. Disappointing since I had it just last week. The ablation, on the other hand, has relieved my pain on the left side. Wearing the neck brace when I drive helps fight fatigue. Too early to tell on the radiation with seven more sessions to go.

Mad King Donald

Samain and the Radiation Moon (3 sessions)

Thanksgiving gratefuls: Jackie. Ruth. Shadow. Todd and Alise. Rocky Mountain Cancer Care. My son. Seoah. Murdoch. Mary. Mark. Diane. Gabe. The Ancient Brothers. Alan. Joanne. Marilyn and Irv. Tara. Luke. Ginny and Janice. Leo. Eleanor. Annie and Luna. Derek. My Wild Neighbors. The Night Sky. Orion. Polaris.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah:  Gevurah      “While Chesed is associated with flow, Gevurah provides the structure that allows this flow, acting like river banks to channel energy. It is seen as essential for establishing healthy boundaries, creating space for important work, and preserving what is most valuable.”

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Ruth, my beloved granddaughter, who drove up here from Longmont and in turn drove me to my radiation session in Littleton, came back and put together the new kitchen stool for cooking, finished her chemistry homework with Luke’s assistance, and, for a final flourish made a sugar cream pie.

 

This morning she leaves for A-Basin to ski. Where she and her Dad skied every winter from when she was three or four. Fewer skiers on Thanksgiving day.

Ruth works two jobs. As a Starbucks’ barista and a cleaner in the CU library. She also has a full class load in the pre-med curriculum that includes biology, chemistry, statistics, and sociology. I’m so proud of her.

Gabe won a writing prize in a story contest that included 13,000 entries. 700 winners. Go, Gabe. He also got accepted into the University of Montana’s writing program with a $5,000 scholarship. Both of them had incredibly difficult childhoods, then their Dad died.

I admire their resilience.

 

Just a moment:  Here’s an important article in this month’s Atlantic:  The Conservative Movements Intellectual Collapse. Here are two sentences that give you the flavor.

“Trump’s most outrageous innovation was dispensing with the pretense that he needed to provide reasons for his positions…His greatest apostasy was not his rejection of any particular set of ideas, but his categorical rejection of the whole notion of ideas.”   And there you have it. Rule by whim and fancy. Our very own Mad King Donald.

The author, Jonathan Chait, one of my favorite Atlantic writers, shows how first gradually, then in toto, even previously independent think tanks like the Heritage Foundation fell under the Trumpist spell, explaining, for example, the strategic importance of Greenland and the Panama Canal, then, when nothing happened regarding them, stayed silent.

In the vacuum of ideas that is the Trumpian black hole it is not surprising that such entities as the New Apostolic Reformation, Christian Nationalism, and White Supremacists now led by Nick Fuentes who blithely owns his anti-Semitism with no cover at all, have taken the place of thought.

This may, as his term moves closer to its event horizon, leave a real opening for those of us with, well, ideas. There are now, for example, three mayors of major U.S. cities: Seattle, Boston, and New York City who are democratic socialists. Even the faded remnant of the Democratic Party may come up with an idea or two. (he said hopefully.)  May it be so.

 

 

All Sacred, All One, For All Time

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Alan. Ablations scheduled. Radiation approved, but not scheduled. Hip injection scheduled. Soft collar orthotics in. My medical October has bled far into November. Tom and his telehealth today. Shadow. Her vitality. Sheet pan meals. Cooking again. Canceling Cook Unity. Tara. Aurora Borealis in Colorado. The Edmund Fitzgerald. Lake Superior. Wolf 21.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: a day of rest

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Chesed.  Loving Kindness.        “Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind see.”  Mark Twain

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: The Aurora, shining shimmering curtains of green and red that dance, flow, shift, grow and fade, took them for granted in Andover where for most of the twenty years, I could go out on our front porch and watch them, that placed against the wonder of Coloradans seeing them, many for the first time after these latest, massive coronal ejections.

 

Mother Earth, Great Sol. Yin and yang. Visible when the protective magnetic field of our Mother receives bursts of highly charged particles released during a coronal mass ejection.

Awe. Wonder. Desire. That is, desire to remain here, by this Pond, clothed in the majesty of existence by all that’s holy and sacred.

Another moment, in looking back, when the sacred oneness revealed itself, said look here, can you not understand that the Largemouth Bass, the Goats on the farm, the Trees in the wood lot, Judy, yourself also dance, whirling like dervishes endowed with the holy, connected and interdependent for all time?

Each time I drive home from Evergreen, I drive by Kate’s Valley and her Stream, and further on, past the Upper Maxwell Falls trailhead, the spot where the Elk Bull appeared to me drenched in the Rainy Night, standing on the Forest’s edge. In both places I nod, see them in their apparently mundane clothing, the light of Day suggesting nothing special to see here. A small Mountain Valley, a stand of Aspens along Black Mountain Drive.

Yet. I know. These places revealed their sacred nature to me when I turned over the Bresnahan urn with its flame signatures glazed in earthy, russet colors and spilled into the clear Mountain Stream the final remains of my love, my wife, my soulmate. As that Bull Elk did on a Rainy May night.

They have taught me, in their every day appearance, that no the sacred is not only there in moments of heightened emotion or sudden clarity. Rather, her Stream runs sacred in the light of a November morning, no more and no less sacred than the White Pines and Lodgepoles that line its banks along with the holy Wild Strawberries, the sacred Raspberry. The Water. The Rocks. And the Sky above them. All sacred, all one, for all time.

 

A Military Family

Samain and the Summer’s End Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Dr. Patel. MVP. Cabbage and Butter Beans. Shadow and her dreaming. Paul. The Maine Coast. The St. Croix. The Bay of Fundy where the Tides sometimes reach a height of eighty feet. New Brunswick. Champlain Bubbles. The Camp. The Farmhouse. Findlay. Toby. Lobster pots. Lobster rolls.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: MVP

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Chesed.  Loving Kindness.  “Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind see.”  Mark Twain

Tarot: Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Feeling the stirrings of another novel, or novel revision, perhaps both, rereading my work featuring the Edmund Fitzgerald, learning about Wolf 21 and unzipping Superior Wolf to focus on Lycaon and his descendants, then adding the Rockies and the Denver metro, anyhow it feels good to have something bubbling, rising.

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Veterans Day:  The first Ellis in the New World, Richard, who came here in 1707, (no, I can’t explain the birth date on this headstone) fought and attained the rank of Captain in the Revolutionary War. His father was a Captain in the occupying army of William and Mary in Ireland. His mother sent him to an uncle in Virginia from Dublin, but the ship captain, in a practice apparently common at the time, kept his fare and sold him into indentured servitude in Massachusetts. As you can see from his headstone, he founded the town of Ashfield, Ma.

The first Spitlers (my Dad’s mom’s maiden name) fought on the side of the British as Hessian mercenaries. They never went home and became respected woodworkers in Virginia. And owned slaves.

I have relatives whose names I don’t recall who fought in the Civil War. Don’t know about WWI.

Both of my parents and my Uncle Riley (cousin Diane’s Dad) were veterans of WWII. Joseph, when he retires, will be a veteran. Neither Mark (my brother) or I served, so we’re outliers in this family history.

My mom served as a W.A.C. in the Signal (intelligence) Corps. She spent time in Algiers, Capris, Rome, and, I think England. My sister Mary found her name on a veteran’s memorial wall at her alma mater, and mine and Mary’s, Ball State University.

Dad flew liaison planes, spending his whole time in the U.S. He dropped bags of flour on troops in training to simulate bombs and ferried from place to place many of the key players in the Manhattan Project. He never flew afterward.

A military family. Patriots. Who served their country at critical moments in their young lives.

When I and so many others opposed the Vietnam War, we mistakenly and wrongly put the blame on those men and women now veterans of that war. Our opposition should have focused solely on the old white men in Washington sending among others, poor Black men to die for their sins. I regret that error.

My son’s military career has given me a chance to be on many Air Force Bases from Georgia to Korea. On those bases I’ve met his fellow officers who have been, to a person, thoughtful, kind, and devoted to the U.S. They have humanized the military for me in a way even Mom and Dad did not.

So this day I honor all those who served, who fought, who gave portions or all of the lives to defending this county.