Monthly Archives: January 2010

Faith and Spirituality

A Convention of Former Therapists and Ex-Wives

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Winter                                            Waning Cold Moon

Strange event today at Groveland.  An old therapist of mine showed up to hear me preach.  An ex-Roman Catholic priest, he came into my life while I was still reeling from a barrage of self-inflicted wounds.  His therapeutic approach was problem-focused, that is, we always discussed what was the matter with me.  In therapy with him I learned that this approach didn’t function well overall for me.  He was a good listener and empathetic, too.  It was, though, over against that school of psychological thought that I sought out a Jungian and found John Desteian.

On thinking about it further I wondered what it would be like to have an event where all my old therapists showed up.  If I added in ex-wives, I could fill a small lecture hall.  What might we discuss? The points I refused to acknowledge.  The ground I could have covered more quickly if I’d only listened.  Or, might we discuss the essential fragility of the human condition, its inevitable pressures on our small selves.  We might have a laugh at the man I was and perhaps, I hope, drink a cup of tea to the man I have become.

Still doubting.  Still vulnerable.  Still fragile.  Yes, but still here, too.

Faith and Spirituality, Friends, Weather +Climate, Woolly Mammoths

The Archaeology of Snow

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Winter                                                   Waning Cold Moon

As the Cold Moon begins to wane, so will the bitterness of our winter,  sliding toward warmer averages, probably more snow, certainly no green for another month plus anyhow.  This winter, like winters of yore, we still have November snow Add Newlayered like archaeological remains below December and those below January.  Even with increased temps we will, most likely, bury these further under a February layer and March until we have five months here, mingled compressed, all vulnerable to the sun that rises higher concentrating its blessing until we discover once again that things still grow here.

Preached this morning at Groveland.  A repeat of Roots of Liberalism.  I wrote this piece originally for Groveland, but ended up presenting it in Wayzata last Labor Day Sunday.  My October date with Groveland, when I would have given it there, they asked me to do some consulting, help them get on top of their disintegrating community.  Too much work for too few volunteers, an old churchbane.  No easy answers, but they’re still at it.

When I presented Roots in Wayzata, it went over so well I felt brilliant for an entire afternoon.  Even then, though, I felt near the end I had reached beyond the patience level of the average listener and I felt the same way today.  The reaction today was less effusive and the discussion less rich, but I felt heard again.  Now I can move forward and get to work on Liberalism, part II:  the present.  Due near the end of March.

Buddy Mark Odegard writes about reading on the beaches of Puerto Vallerta.  He believes we should all emulate the small birds who have the good sense to emigrate during the bleak season to warmer climes.  When I grip the steering wheel with white knuckles while driving on ice, I agree with him.

Family, Writing

Kate

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Winter                                             Full Cold Moon

Kate goes back to work on Monday, February 1st.  Right now I believe she’ll do ok.  Her hip injections–cortisone–have helped.  Her neck has been fine during this period, but she will have to return to odd angles while looking into young eyes, ears and throats.  The computer ergonomics in the office are not ideal for her either.  She’s gotten more and more exercise in over the last few weeks and I hope that means that her stamina is sufficient.

We’ll take it, as they say, a day at a time.

I wish I didn’t have the Woolly Retreat coming up over the weekend, but she’s not working weekends, at least not right now, so there will only be Thursday and Friday nights when I’m not here.  Of course, if she experience difficulty, I’ll give it a miss.

The novel keeps on coming.  In retrospect I think it was the novel that kept me up the other night.  Since I write without much of a plan, it’s quite easy for me to write myself into a corner, or to realize that early ideas, some woven into much of what I’ve written, no longer work.  Both happened with this one.

Since I’m nearing what will be the middle of the book in number of words, the arc of the story has to reach a certain dramatic point here and I had to fiddle with a good bit of the already written material to make that possible.  Part of the change, inevitable really, involves pruning excess characters, locales and plot lines.  When I did this, I reduced the plot lines to three, much easier for a reader to follow.  I also created a key  plot point that will allow all these plot lines to converge further along, and I hope, diverge again as I set up the second book.

Asia, Faith and Spirituality, Garden, Great Wheel, permaculture

Ordinary Time

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Winter                              Full Cold Moon

In just two days those of us who follow the Celtic calendar will celebrate the coming of Imbolc.  I’ll write more about it on Monday, but I wanted to note here the difference in timber and resonance between post-Epiphany January and the holiseason just ended.  We move now into the ordinary days, days when the sense of expectation and sacred presence relies more on our private rituals, our own holydays.

In my own case, for example, Valentine’s Day lends this time period a certain magic as its pre-birthday spirit invades the present.  Also, for me and my fellow Woolly Mammoths, this next week marks our annual retreat, so we get ready for it, this time again at Blue Cloud Monastery in South Dakota.  It is, too, for those with any presence in the Chinese world, just a couple of weeks before the beginning of the spring festival, or, as we know it here, Chinese New Years.  This year it begins on my birthday.

Imbolc, too, has sacred resonance and its six week period marks the beginning of the growing season here as seeds for certain long growing season vegetables like leeks must get started.

Family

A Guy Thing

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Winter                                        Full Cold Moon

Tires for our 4WD Tundra, knobby tough guys, weigh a lot.  Guiding them onto their small, threaded mounts required three tries and two different efforts with the jack.  Finally, they were on.   They have a nifty device to prevent rust, a washered nut with a stainless steel crown that projects out from the wheel.  Made me wonder why all vehicles don’t use the same system.

When I picked up the tire at Carlson Toyota, I thought about telling them that the accelerator pedals on both of our vehicles work fine.  They might need a little bucking up right now.  Forgot.

Composted the potatoes that froze and thawed, perhaps three dozen altogether.  Next year’s potatoes will stay inside.

When we had our garage door opener in the first bay replaced a week ago, the old one stayed behind and needed dismantling before it  could be taken by the trash man (solid waste professional).  I did that, too.  It was a guy morning which had me wondering once more about how genitals predispose us toward particular tasks.

The cookies Kate made have white chocolate and macadamia nuts.  So good she’d better not make them again.

Family

Awake

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Winter                            Full Cold Moon

Every once in a while, not often, say every two-three months I can’t get to sleep.  I’ve not discerned any pattern in this over the years.  I’m not ruminating.  I’m not anxious.  Sleep will not come.  Last night was one of those nights.

Around 2 am, I gave up, got up and read.  I like the quiet late in the night, the sense of isolation and a sort of sneaky pleasure in doing something  off normal.  At times I think I should turn my days around and sleep in the morning and stay up very late and write.  Perhaps I will someday to see how it works.  Could be hard on Kate though.

Kate’s upstairs using our new Kitchen-aid to make special cookies for me as a thank-you for help during her recovery from surgery.  Not needed, but welcome.  They have white chocolate in them.

My 63 birthday comes on Valentine’s Day.  We’ve made plans for a meal at Azia, an Asian fusion and sushi bar at 26th and Nicollet.

Now I’m off to mount the new tire and replace Kate’s license plates on the truck.

Aging, Politics, Weather +Climate

The lustre of mid-day

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Winter                                             Full Cold Moon

The full cold moon now has -5 temps under its light.  When there’s snow on the ground and a full moon in the sky, I always think of Twas’ The Night Before Christmas:  And the moon on the new fallen snow gave a lustre of midday to objects below.  Writing that reminded me of a performance I gave of that poem with our high school concert band in the background.  Scared me to death and I didn’t like it.  Acting I loved, but performing to music–not at all.

I surprised my 3 year old granddaughter last week with the news that Grandpa did modern dance in college, performing in front of an audience several times.  My mind says yes I did, my body insists it could never have done that.  It was fun.

Obama.  Our government.  I have known for decades now, as have many of my contemporaries that our system of government broke down long ago.  There are many reasons:  money, lobbyists, an archaic method of representing voters wishes, an apathetic citizenry, the practice of the big lie.  In the past I subscribed to the idea of radical change, a dramatic overhaul of our system, one that would replace it with, say, democratic socialism or a scheme in which the whole of Amerika broke down into smaller regional states.

With the passing years I have lost my faith in radical change in two ways.  One, I doubt the chance of creating it.  Two, and more fundamentally, I’m not convinced that my radical change would not morph into something terrible, perhaps in a different way, but still terrible.  I suppose this could lead to despair or reasoned apathy, but I’m not cut from that cloth.  In a bad situation you use the tools you have and  work for the best change you can expect.

It may be that within the remaining years of my lifetime that  the stars will align  and dramatic change will be possible.  I doubt it, but it could happen.  If it does, I’m there.  Even so, I’m not sanguine about a better world.

This world, this one world, the only world we have must always be enough and not even close to enough.  We must live in it as if it is enough; we must work for it as if it’s not even close.

Humanities, Letters

And yet more Latin

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Winter                                         Full Cold Moon

First session with the Latin tutor this noon.  Conjugations, translations, declensions all the stuff you remember from high school, or not.  He thought my background showed, so we decided to move to two chapters a week, rather than one.  That’s fine with me because the Wheelock book sets me up well to begin my own translations.

Picked up the Tundra tire, but will not put it on until tomorrow.  More work to do on the novel yet today.

Busy guy this week.  And the next.  And the one after that.

Aging, Humanities, Letters, Politics

Tires, Novels, Latin

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Winter                                       Waxing Cold Moon

A productive day.  Moved forward on the novel.  Removed the tire, took it in to Carlson, discovered it would require a new tire.   Over to the pharmacy to pick up meds.  Pharmacist recommended 40 mg pills instead of 20’s.  Cuts our co-pay in half for an expensive med.  Lipitor.  Good deal.  The kind of things that will help us once we’re both on medicare.

Finished up the translation section of the Latin chapter.  We’ll see, but it seemed straightforward to me.  Fun.

Work out and tonight at 7:00 pm the first Legcom conference call.    Rock and roll.

Family, Writing

Oh, Boy! The truck jack is in!

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Winter                                         Waxing Cold Moon

Hacking away at the keyboard.  I’m up to 32,500 words and still chugging along, having fun.

Good news!  The truck jack we ordered came into Carlson Toyota.  That means I get to go out in the garage, jack up the truck and remove its left front tire and take it over to Carlson for repair.  Then, reverse the action.  Big fun.  At the same time I can disassemble the garage door opener replaced last Friday.  That way the trash will pick it up.  Oh, and while I’m out there I may as well disassemble all those boxes.

Kate’s back from seeing Dr. Bewin.  He’s her physiatrist, the doc who treats pain, recommends physical therapy and acts as her overall signal caller when it comes to degenerative disc disease.  The bursitis, which he thinks also has some tendinitis and myofascitis as companions, is, according to him, difficult to treat.  Cortisone injections and increased anti-inflammatory may help.