Category Archives: Family

Kate’s Inner World

Samain                                                                     Thanksgiving Moon

Up and on the road around 5:30 am. Out to Park Adventist Hospital in Littleton for two more imaging studies. The first one, an ultrasound, looked for narrowing of arteries feeding blood to the bowels. If they are narrowed, food passing through the intestines can put pressure on them and cause nausea and pain. The second, a barium contrast study, combined fluoroscopy, which follows movement in internal organs, with still x-rays. This study was to determine how food moves through the digestive system from top to bottom.

The techs let me stay with Kate for the second study. I sat on her rollator, think walker with a seat, wheels, and a brake. To not expose me to the x-rays I had to sit back in the little booth the technicians use. I got to see the barium she swallowed go down her throat and into her stomach. This was fluoroscopy. Very strange. I’ve gotten to know the inner you, I told Kate.

Afterward we went to Krispy Kreme and got a couple of original glazed to blot out the chalky taste of the barium.

Gabe’s concert is tonight. Big fun.

20180418_154539 (2)Last night, as the kids and I were making pizza over at CBE, I got a call from Kate. Cell service is dicey in the mountains, but I finally understood. The door blew open, again, and all three dogs escaped. Uh-oh. That meant I put on my hat and left, telling Tara on the way out, “Our dogs escaped. It’s more important.” Drove home. Kate tried to call me three times but for some reason I didn’t hear the calls. The neighbor had brought the dogs home while I was on my way. Since it’s 30 minutes each way by the time I got home and found this out, it was too late to return. I’ve not been a reliable teacher this first semester.

As we’ve noticed other times our dogs have escaped, they were pretty damned pleased with themselves. Rigel’s smile would have lit up Broadway. Kate said they came home prancing. Oh, what a good time we had.

Life on the mountain. Never dull.

 

I like this guy

Samain                                                               Thanksgiving Moon

5002011 09 10_1164Happy to have some good news to report about Jon. Went to his court date yesterday. His inner attitude seems to be shifting away from anger about the divorce (understandable, but not helpful) toward getting on with his life, accepting the constraints of the restraining order (unreasonable, but legally enforceable, as he just discovered). He wants to get his art in a gallery or up for sale. This is big because it’s a key part of his identity that lay fallow during the twelve years of his marriage. He needs positive reinforcement and he’s had more than his share of negatives over the last few years.

artistHe’s a very talented, smart guy who can handle all the work necessary to remodel his home, replace an axle in his car, ski a great line down an A-basin bowl, teach elementary age kids how to express themselves. I hope he can organize his life so these thing line up, move him forward, and make him feel good about himself.

Kate had a nausea free day yesterday. She took the ativan and that seemed to help. A day without nausea is like a day with sunshine. It makes her feel good and makes me feel good. May it continue.

breathe thich-nhat-hanh-calligraphyI’m feeling a bit stressed, a lot going on. Religious school tonight. I’m taking pizza makings and teaching a unit on holidays, especially winter holidays. The kids will reimagine, reconstruct a new winter holiday. Tomorrow morning Kate has two imaging studies, looking for zebras. Tomorrow evening is Gabe’s winter concert in Stapleton. A sequelae of the hearing yesterday is that Jon can’t, for the moment, attend. The old protection order carved out an exception to the 100 yards rule for events with the kids, things like parent-teacher conferences, concerts, doctor visits, but the law is a blunt instrument.  Yesterday by default it eliminated those exceptions. Jon wants me to go to represent our side of the family. Important for Gabe. I’ll go.

Stressed, yes, but not anxious. Still. Amazing myself right now. Following the water course way, going with the many changes, leveraging their energy, keeping my feet while wading in a fast flowing river. Not trying to dam it up, divert it, slow it. Finding the chi, aligning mine, taking each day on its own. Most of the time, and this is the part that amazes me, little of this is conscious. Means I’ve integrated something at a soul level, some amalgam of mindfulness, wu wei, and love of life.

tao laoGot reinforced shortly after the move out here when I had to deal with prostate cancer. That shook me. I worked hard to keep myself upright and maybe, in the process, began to consolidate a lot of learning. A major part of that consolidation came from the support I got from family and friends. Oh. Life can be good, even when it’s bad. Weird. Since the move, it’s been one damned thing after another, or it feels that way right now. Those things forced a going deep, being honest, being grateful a lot. Now, four years later, our move anniversary is the Winter Solstice, my Colorado Self, the one born in the alembic of all those insults, has asserted itself.

And I like this guy. This mountain man, man of the West, embedded in family and friends and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Doing ok. Thanks to all of you and some random acts of life.

 

Domesticity

Samain                                                              Thanksgiving Moon

20181111_171929Warmer, 31, and cloudy. The waning Thanksgiving Moon lit my morning walk to the loft through a veil of patchy cumulus. The neighbor in the rental put up an inflatable turkey with a pilgrim hat a week or so ago. Now there’s a Northpole sign on their mailbox, a Santa Claus and Christmas lights. They did wait until Thanksgiving was over. Most of us on our stretch of Black Mountain Drive have less glam. We have lights on at night all year, but just a strand in the front and along the walkway up to the loft. Holiseason brings out the inner kid. That’s Eduardo and Holly’s lights in the distance.

Kate’s still struggling. Her weight seems to have stabilized in the 80 to 81 pound range. She can’t get weight on in spite of eating and snacking. The nausea and the abdominal pain have returned. Her spirit seems good most of the time, but the lack of progress has begun to wear on her. I can see that. What happens next is a couple of more imaging studies this Thursday. Not really expecting that they’ll show anything. If they don’t, Dr. Rhee has agreed to consider tube feeding. She needs to get calories somehow and the traditional way isn’t working.

domesticI’m finding a peculiar satisfaction in domestic work. Dishes in the dishwasher right after use. Throw a load in the washer when I get up in the morning. Cooking what we have. There’s a thread through the day, things to do that are active and loving. I’ve come to like it. One of the things I noted a long time ago was that women’s work (in a stereotypical sense) dealt with life’s basics. Eat. Clean. Support. Repetitive. The clothes always get dirty. The dishes come after cooking. No matter what groceries and other supplies have to be purchased. Rinse and repeat. It makes sense to me now how homemaking is a noble art, a task unfairly distributed by past gender roles, yes, but so important to the well-being of a family.

Maybe if I’d ever paid attention to fixing things, I’d get traditional male role satisfaction there, too. But, I haven’t. Oh, I have my moments. The jerry-rigged deck with wooden palettes and horse stall mat walking surface. The cabinet doors finally fixed with longer screws. But really it just frustrates me to try make the physical world conform to what I want.

Waiting for a court hearing, Denver Court House
Waiting for a court hearing, Denver Court House, Nov. 13, 2018

One thing that is different now from when Kate had shoulder surgery back in April is that we have a functioning dish washer. Boy, does that make a huge difference. When I cooked then, the dishes went into the sink, glaring at me until I did them. The added step after cooking and clean up wore me out. Now I get the dishes and pans in there right away and they’re off my mind. A mind saving as well as a labor saving device.

Annie goes home today. She’s had her hands full the last couple of days making funeral arrangements for a sort of ward of the Fatland family, Kate’s mom’s family. Barb was 98. Annie’s also doing a counted cross stitch of the Devil’s Tower. Fine work. She’s out of the jail now after 30 years inside, as a guard. A lot of adjustment as any major life shift like that requires.

Around 8:30 this morning I’m into Denver to the Denver City/County criminal court. Jon’s court date for the restraining order violation. Not sure what to expect. Jon seems to think it will not be too harsh. I hope he’s right. He has enough going on with his house and his car, being a single parent.

 

Not Your Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving. But, a good one anyhow.

Samain                                                                                  (full) Thanksgiving Moon

(N.B. I love vintage images on the web. I’m including here some of the weird ones I found while checking out Thanksgiving.)

Thanksgiving weirdWe put out our best aluminum tins from Tony’s. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, sage stuffing, green beans almondine. I plunged the plastic bag of turkey gravy in boiling water. The turkey breast went in a shallow pan with a 1/2 cup of water. We have two ovens and the top one, the smaller of the two, did its job well for the potatoes and the stuffing.

The larger, lower oven not so much. After almost an hour in an oven reputed to be at 350 degrees the turkey hardly moved the dial on the meat thermometer. Well. Perfect. No Thanksgiving is complete without some culinary malfunction. Kate suggested I slice the breast and warm the pieces in the microwave. How did we ever survive without microwaves? Many of you remember the primitive past. Today’s kids don’t know how lucky they are.

Thanksgiving camelsOn the table sat our finest paper plates, a big turkey printed on them saying gobble, gobble, gobble. The napkins had pumpkins and vines and stuff. The meal was very good and aside from the now suspect ovens (I won’t mention that the other one went wonky, too.) exceeded my hopes.

We talked about the usual Thanksgiving topics.That dumb#$! in the Whitehouse. The ruination of American culture by technology. No, wait a minute. That was somebody else’s house.

We talked about Annie’s retirement from the Scott County jail after 30 years of public service. Learning how to be retired is not something we anticipate, but it can be a real challenge. She’s working on it. And getting there, I think.

Jon’s car came up. Always a fruitful topic. He’s putting on a new axle today, getting ready to refit several bushings. His hearing next Tuesday for the misdemeanor. Ruth and Gabe. “They eat whole baguettes. I have to hide them.”

Thanskgiving pabstKate’s two months from hell. A modest amount of this excellent meal sent her straight to bed. Not sure where we go from here. Smoothies and Korean food, maybe.

Jon and I talked for awhile after Kate went to bed and Annie went up for a nap. He took home a large chunk of turkey breast, sweet potatoes, sage stuffing and green beans. “Next year my kitchen should be done. We can have Thanksgiving there.” Sounds good to me.

In between all this I’m still learning about planets and glyphs, natal charts, signs, houses. The big task though is not directly astrology related. I’m going to figure out the notion of the archetype once and for all. After reading Tarnas, I’m convinced archetypes are a big clue to the efficacy of astrology, but how does that work? And, just what is an archetype anyhow?

Thanksgiving 2Woke up this morning and did my gratitude practice. At night I consider all the gifts I got during that day, all the gifts I gave, and any trouble I caused. In the morning I start out with what I’m grateful for right now. Both practices seem to soothe me, put me in a place to receive and accept blessings. Life’s a hell of a lot better when I’m in that sorta space.

So. If you’re reading this, I’m grateful you took the time. Thanks.

Thanksgiving

Samain                                                                          Thanksgiving Moon

The waxing Thanksgiving Moon has been on daytime display. It stood directly east of us yesterday, splitting the lanes of Highway 6 going into Denver. In the clear blue, baby blue sky it looked like one of those establishing shots in a movie where there are two moons visible in the day to signal, alien planet! I find the daytime moon strangely soothing, a gentle reminder of both our isolation, even in the solar system, and our closest neighbor.

Yesterday was a much better day for Kate. She ate, slept, smiled. No nausea, no abdominal pain. A peek at what used to be. I liked it.

At 2 pm I drive over to Littleton to Tony’s Market to pick up our Thanksgiving meal, a turkey breast and several sides. We decided putting out a big meal this year was beyond us. It feels great to me. I really like cooking Thanksgiving meals, but this year it felt burdensome. So we solved it.

Annie comes in today and Jon will be up tomorrow after he drops Ruth and Gabe off at Jen’s. A small meal, then, but with family. I plan to read a list of folks who’ve helped us out in any way over the last couple of months. We’ll say gratitude or thank you after each one.

 

Not Getting Easier

Samain                                                                       Thanksgiving Moon

from Bill Schmidt
from Bill Schmidt

Learned from Elisa, my astrologer, that the Hebrew word for dog is kelev, like the heart. Lev means heart, not in a physical sense, but as the mind or spirit. Not sure, but kelev might mean something like, a dog embodies the spirit of a human. This came up when Elisa spoke about the very passionate nature of my chart and its unusually strong emphasis on anima/feminine energy. We talked about love and I said the place where I experience love in the most unmediated, unfiltered way is with Gertie, Rigel, and Kepler. And, Murdoch. And, almost any dog I meet.

Bill sent me this picture yesterday. At my best, and I’m there more and more, I’d have the dog’s bubble, too. I admit staying in the moment is not easy right now. Maybe it never is, but I’ve been finding myself able to stay with the troubles of the day, not projecting where they might go, what they might mean beyond what I’m dealing with. This means that though I’ve been under a good deal of stress, I’ve not added a layer of anxiety to it. Which is keeping me sane in a situation that could spin out of control without much effort.

Having said that the stress itself does get to me, creates situations where I overreact, find slights or issues I might otherwise pass by, get distracted. I’ve found it hard to focus on what I consider work over the last couple of months. Yes, we’re approaching the two month mark, the bleed and the emergency room visit happening on Sept. 28th.

One of the benefits of leaning into astrology, even as far as I have, is that it gives me a new conceptual world to visit, a place to learn new things about myself. I need that mirror right now. I did my usual with a new enthusiasm. I found a reading list on Steven Forrest’s website and I purchased a few of them. Tarnas’ book was on there, btw, Tom.

Coming home from Dr. Rhee’s yesterday, Kate asked me if the visit tired me out, too. I’d asked if the visit used up her stamina. Yes, she’d said. I thought a minute, about her question. Yes, I said. It does. Finding no new direction, no new approach deflated me, made me tired. If, I conjectured, we’d found something positive, we’d both be feeling up right now. She nodded.

FortThere is also a more general, vaguer issue for me. As Kate’s life continues to revolve around pain and nausea, weight loss, it restricts her movements. She’s in the house, often in bed or in her chair or on the bench upstairs at the table. This has a centrifugal force for me, too, pulling me in, keeping me here. No, I do not resent it, that’s not my point. I’m speaking now of a more subtle influence, a coloring of the spirit, a darkening of it. I find myself tired, sleepy, more than makes sense to me unless I factor this in.

(friend Tom Crane sent me this from 2015 at The Fort, a restaurant near us in Morrison. If I recall correctly, this is just prior to my prostate surgery.)

Being with her on this ancientrail of ill-health is my life now. And, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love her and am her husband. Even so, there is a real sense of confinement, of loss, of sadness that goes with this pilgrimage.

 

I heard the news today, oh boy

Samain                                                                    Thanksgiving Moon

Just posted this on Caringbridge, but I know some of you don’t read that:

Post-hospitalization appt. with G.I. doc yesterday afternoon. Disappointing. Dr. Rhee shook his head, “I don’t have anything. The bleed was an independent event. Your weight loss, nausea, abdominal pain, I don’t know.”

Kate’s weight has moved up and down between 79+ and 81. Plus that one hopeful 83 which quickly passed. The nausea has returned as has the abdominal pain.

She’s eating, or trying to, six small meals, including nighttime snack/meals. Her stamina is miserable. Right now, this is not going the way we hoped. And, we don’t have a thing to do that might help. Very frustrating.

Dr. Rhee ordered a couple more imagining (my own autocorrect. should be imaging.) tests. “Oh, boy. More tests!” Kate’s been in zebra territory for a long time, but looking for zebras, as these two new tests will do, is, by definition, difficult.

He also suggested we seek a second opinion from the doctors at the University of Colorado Hospital. They see zebras a lot and may be able to find something all the others have not. God, I hope so.

Wish this was better news. But, it’s not.

Synthesis

Samain                                                                Thanksgiving Moon

astrology3Wonder what the stars (and the planets) have to say about reading my full chart for the first time today? We could look it up. I’m going to Golden, under Table Mesa, to the Bean Fosters coffee house. Elisa, a petroleum geologist, dean of academics at a consortium of community colleges and a member of Congregation Beth Evergreen has done whatever astrologists do with my birth information. She says the consult lasts as long as I have questions. She really doesn’t have that long, so I’ll restrain myself.

Even after finishing Tarnas the old statistical line, often heard in scientific circles, keeps coming to mind: Correlation without causation. It reminds us that many things correlate with each other, say a line of cars at a stoplight, with no cause behind them. It’s like diagnostics in medicine. A particular complex of symptoms may seem to point to a particular cause, but until the link between the symptoms and a certain cause is identified, all you have is correlation. And, it may be pointing you in the wrong direction.

Francis Bacon mentions four idols of the mind that lead us astray:*

*”Bacon also listed what he called the idols (false images) of the mind. He described these as things which obstructed the path of correct scientific reasoning.

  1. Idols of the Tribe (Idola tribus): This is humans’ tendency to perceive more order and regularity in systems than truly exists, and is due to people following their preconceived ideas about things.
  2. Idols of the Cave (Idola specus): This is due to individuals’ personal weaknesses in reasoning due to particular personalities, likes and dislikes.
  3. Idols of the Marketplace (Idola fori): This is due to confusion in the use of language and taking some words in science to have a different meaning than their common usage.
  4. Idols of the Theatre (Idola theatri): This is the following of academic dogma and not asking questions about the world.”  wiki

maslowBacon also points out that the path of facts and induction may be slow, but it heads in the right direction. No matter how fast you go down a path without facts, you will never reach the truth.

This way of thinking is the grand inheritance of the Enlightenment, follow reason. However, if you look at Bacon’s fourth idol, the idols of the Theatre, you will notice a potential problem. In Bacon’s time of course he aimed his critique at the Scholastics whose main mode of learning was deductive, starting often with scripture. It’s fair, at least to me, that now we consider whether the Copernican Self has become a contemporary idol of the theatre, an explanatory idea with great power, just like Scholastic reasoning, but, much like Scholastic thought, obscuring greater truths.

To summarize. I found Tarnas’ critique of skepticism personally valid. It’s a tool, not a way of life. I found his description of the Copernican Self and the primal Self accurate and helpful. I also took his point about the angst and anomie that infects our age as rooted in the disenchantment of the universe occasioned by thinkers like Copernicus and Descartes. His argument that it is time for a synthesis between the Copernican (modern) Self and the primal Self seems important to me, a correct diagnosis and a possible solution.

BaconsScientificMethodHis emphasis on depth psychology, in particular synchronicity and the collective unconscious, as partial evidence that the modern Self need not be wholly isolate makes sense to me. I had many years of Jungian analysis and find the non-pathological approach of Jungian thought very congenial. I’m not sure how many outside the world of depth psychology would agree with him on this point however. But, I do.

That synthesis between the modern and the primal, perhaps a neo-primal Self, does require some way of convincing modernist thought to make the leap, to create openings in the seal around its Self. This is a difficult requirement since it means setting aside that Self as the center of a disenchanted universe; much, it has just occurred to me, in the manner that Copernicus and Kepler dethroned the earth as the center of the universe.

astronomy 2mass xscNeither an obvious nor an easy matter. “I’m going to have my chart read this afternoon.” “I know.” “Yes, you know, but you don’t approve.” “Oh, I think it’s fine to read your chart. But, believing it?” She shrugged. Kate and I share a strong or high version of the modern Self, reason uber alles. I have flirted, however, for a very long time with a Romantic view carrying an aesthetic and spiritual seeker’s heart inside a rationalist’s body and mind. This is not a synthesis. It’s a carrying of opposites, learning from both, knowing the parallel, never touching rails down which they run.

The synthesis between these two metaphysics, one disenchanted, one ensouled, seems like the task of our time, our Great Work, to use Thomas Berry’s idea. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his Great Work for our generation, creating a sustainable human presence on earth, may require such a synthesis to succeed. I also think this synthesis defines the inchoate sense that I had about the need to reimagine faith. No, I don’t want to revert to an unexamined enchanted universe, to become a shaman for a world without reason. At the same time I no longer want to live in a disenchanted universe, alone in the cold vastness. Will astrology prove a tool to help with the synthesis? I’m not sure. But I’m gonna give it an honest examination. Starting with the event on 9:30 am on February 14th, 1947, in the small Red River town of Duncan, Oklahoma.

 

 

 

Kate

Samain                                                                      Thanksgiving Moon

20181107_121717SeoAh left. CBE, neighbors, and Kate’s sewing friends stepped in. We have food from Marilyn and Irv, Jamie, Holly and Eduardo, and Tara. Joan and Lauri will bring dinner on Wednesday and Friday. Helps a lot, easing back to full time cooking. Helps a lot, too, feeling the caring and love of folks from various walks of our lives.