the outside

Beltane                                                                            Early Growth Moon

The garlic only had about 50% germination, unusual and poor.  Not sure what the issue was there.  The onions have fattened up and greened up, the leeks are on their way as the sugar snap peas and some of the cucumbers.  A few beets, even fewer carrots and kale have started to emerge, but they’re on their way.

Tomorrow morning the tomatoes, peppers and eggplants, already well underway will enter the garden.

(the gals at work)

Today was a bee day and our gals are busy.  The queen’s laying eggs.  The brood grows and nursery bees attend them.  Funeral ants pick up corpses and move them out of the hive.  When the weather’s hotter, the air conditioner bees will set themselves up on the hive boxes sides and flap their wings very hard, keeping air flow adequate.  The workers have already gone and gathered nectar and pollen, cells have yellow deposits and a few have new honey in them.

 

 

Your Plant Is In The Mail

Beltane                                                                                Early Growth Moon

The tomatoes, peppers and egg plants arrived in the mail yesterday.  They’re resting now, will go in the ground tomorrow morning.  Today is a bee day, move leaves to the vegetable garden, new lights in the garage and in the garden study day, plump up the sun trap day and begin outlining projects for Javier to bid.  Over the last three days I’ve laid the writing and translating aside in favor of poetry, analysis and today gardening.

I also worked out last night after missing Monday and Wednesday; this way I can get two sessions in this week.  I really miss working out and need to rethink my schedule since having a meeting or event in the evening can often screw it up.  I do three intense sessions a week, cardio and resistance combined in an interval training program that cranks up the heart rate, then extends it through a set of resistance work, a cool down to below 110 bpm, then up into the anaerobic range for a full minute followed immediately by the next resistance set.  4 sets altogether.

Soon, probably tomorrow, I’ll begin to feel the push back to the writing, translating rhythm, but right now I’m enjoying the break.

Color

Beltane                                                                                     Early Growth Moon

Saw John Desteian this morning.  We discussed the numinous after I described the moment that had brought me to see him–Back out, Kona sick, Kate gone, bee packages arrived, weather dank, all of which has resolved, but at the time I felt overwhelmed.  Dark.

I told him thanks for what he’s done for me over the now 25+ years that I’ve seen him.  Guided me through the miserable end of the marriage to Raeone through the transition out of the ministry, into marriage with Kate, but most important into a deeper and more dynamic relationship with my Self.

We didn’t schedule another session because I answered the question of where’s the color in my life.  In Kate, Kona, Rigel, Vega, Gertie, the vegetable garden, the orchard, the perennials, the Woolly Mammoths: Bill, Tom, Scott, Stefan, Charlie, Frank, Paul, Jim, Mark, Warren, art, writing, translating, exercising.

I experience the numinous at various points in all of these settings though the most frequent, the most important moments occur with the world of plants.  In place of the relationship with an autocratic though loving external to this reality god I now have a visceral, deeply personal relationship with the all, that is, the all on which I am dependent and with which I am, at the same time, interdependent.  I mean by this that my life depends on photosynthesis and I can feel that dependency when I walk through the garden.  The interdependence manifests there, too, with planting, thinning, tending, harvesting.

(Young Jee)

This immediate experience I have in the garden only seems to be about this land, though it is, certainly, about this land.  It is in this land and on this land that I connect physically, emotionally, spiritually to the ever changing elements of the cosmos, those all borne out of that big expansion so long ago, still migrating, still on pilgrimage throughout the vastness of the universe.

This fills me with awe and a sense of my incredibly tiny presence among all this, yet, it also affirms my unique and individual presence, a never before amalgam of stardust and history, fated for this time, thrown into this time to use Heidegger’s wonderful phrase, and gifted with the particularity that only I can express.

Thus, I am a tiny piece of a gigantic and dynamic whole and at the same time an individual, one of a kind, offered to this time as a one and done gift.  This is, of course, not just me, but all of us, all of everything, enjoying our moment, contributing what we can, then fading back into the tapestry, yes, but a tapestry whose design is different because we have been.

Color.

The Numinous

Beltane                                                                         Early Growth Moon

One of the problems with the Self model I proposed yesterday is that it is sticky.  When the ego has its way, which it wants to do all the time, feelings and thoughts gum up the mental works, a problem that zen and other meditative disciplines can correct, or, at least, diminish.  Example.  Waking up at 4:50 am this morning, then running through the evening at Tom’s 35th anniversary gig.  Nothing in particular, just this thought then that thought, which might lead to an emotion which can careen off in another direction.

This not unusual for me, neither is it usual.  It happens.  Rather than eliminate the self to control the ego I choose to say, it happens.  And not worry the matter beyond that.  Then I can move on, albeit with less sleep than I might desire, but I can always–and always do–take a nap.

At 10:30 I see John Desteian, my analyst (Jungian), of long standing and we will discuss the numinous.  At least that’s the question for the day:  what is the essence of the numinous?  I’ve had some time to reflect on that since John and I last met.

Rudolf Otto invented the term numinous in his book, The Idea of the Holy.  In this book he wanted to get at the non-rational aspects of religion, the holy and the sacred being the usual terminology for it.  He felt these words had a lot of baggage and had gotten confused in the up take of rationalists who wrote theology, did historical criticism of biblical texts and generally tried to shoehorn the  whole of the religious experience into the reason paradigm forcefully advanced by Enlightenment thinkers and the newly regnant science.  Otto wrote in 1909.

The numinous is his word for the dimension of the holy and the sacred not touchable by reason, yet crucially important to their lived reality.  Jung, born in 1903, came to Otto’s work with a deep respect for the small r religious life and adopted the numinous as critical to his understanding of psychology.

Thus, the question, what is the essence of the numinous?  As I see it right now, the numinous is an affective response to an experience of the other, an example of which would be the ego experiencing the Self.  The ego, as the command and control center of the psyche, believes it has full authority for advancement of its priorities, but not so.  The ego works best and accomplishes the most when subservient to the overall needs of the Self.

That is, the ego wants to arrange matters to optimize the survival and flourishing of what it perceives to be me, the sense of I that has the most developmental history, and also the sense of I most invaded by cultural or personal expectations that may not advance the interest of the Self, but may try (too often successfully) to bend the Self toward the goal of career, ambition, money, fame, power.  This bending or truncating of the Self in service of needs defined by externals–the culture or persons influential in the individual’s history–leads to deep unhappiness, a sense (and the reality) of betraying one’s Self.

The power of the numinous comes in its ability to challenge the mundane priorities of the ego.  Note, the ego’s priorities are not bad or wrong.  To the contrary, they are in line with the need to survive and, within limits, to thrive.  Those limits are, interestingly, the places where the needs of the Self conflict with received expectations, either cultural or from your personal history.  In other words, the unexamined ego will take me down the path of whatever expectation hollers loudest.

When the numinous, the whole Self, (or God, or Brahma, or shunyata) intervenes, it enlists the ego’s powers of organization, protection and survival and marshals them in a more holistic direction, that is, fulfillment of dreams and hopes that connect the individual to the collective, not in the sense of overpowering it or coming to dominate it, but in a manner that synchronizes the gifts of the individual with the needs of the many.

This change of direction can be terrifying, can seem like abandonment of everything mom and dad taught, of those very things the culture says are most desirable, and such a direction threatens the individual with isolation and failure.  The most familiar direction seems safest and an experience of the numinous challenges it.

 

 

 

Ego and me

The ego, while necessary and healthy when marshaling resources for the Self’s needs, can become actively destructive when marshaling those same resources for a career path chosen for you by a parent, say, or a need to become a famous scholar imposed by one’s teachers, or the need to advance in the political arena to increase personal power imposed by a need to compensate for feelings of weakness.

My parents, for example, wanted me to become a lawyer.  I was smart, loved to argue and lawyers made good money, had respect in the community.  Easy.  Except.  I had no interest in becoming a lawyer.  Not because being a lawyer wasn’t a fine ambition, it just wasn’t interesting to me.

In need of cash and intellectual stimulation a couple of years out of college I went to seminary, just to check things out.  Spirituality and radical politics drew me in closer to the orbit of church life and, eventually, found me in the ministry, doing community organizing, working with the developmentally disabled.  But it wasn’t the ministry I wanted, it was the organizing, using the power of groups to achieve social justice.  This conflict, between the vehicle I took (ministry) to get regular opportunities to do what I wanted, organizing, eventually grew wider and wider until it ruptured in 1991.

I had let my need to have a stable income trump my fear of the uneven income available to organizers.  And I paid the price for this ego-driven decision.  Note, it was not a bad decision, per se.  What the ego wanted was something I also wanted, to have enough to survive.  But in following only that track, without consulting the larger demands of my Self I subordinated my Self to the day-to-day demands the ego made.  A recipe for eventual trouble.

Crane Engineering

Beltane                                                                      Early Growth Moon

Out to Crane Engineering‘s 35th anniversary event.  It celebrated the time between Tom’s opening his consulting engineering business and today, with Crane Engineering’s 35 employees and three companies:  Crane Engineering, Crane Building Sciences and Crane Data Forensics.

(Tom is second from the right in the back row.)

Tom has electron microscopes, gas chromatographs, F.R.E.D. (forensic data computer by Data Intelligence), lots of other tools and a bunch of very smart folks.  Two of his guys are currently working the west Texas explosion that was in the papers a while ago.

Good food, a string quartet of laid off Minnesota Orchestra players, photographs and book by Ode.  A fun evening.  Most of the Woollies were there.

About Time

Beltane                                                                              Early Growth Moon

I have stood on the shore of time itself, looking out on the broad sea that laps upon its sand, the vast space ocean, touching all, then circling back, once more to the beach where time rests, gay umbrellas stuck here and there, the men and women in bathing suits, swim suits, bikinis, nothing at all.  No children, just the adults of this one tribe, homo sapiens, from this one lonely outpost, away there in a long arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, nothing special as things universal and cosmic go, just conglobulated star dust.

They watch, as I do, the darkness and the many lights, those stars, those other suns, in other galaxies and those we can see only a tiny, tiny fraction of the whole though we strain these eyes of ours, a gift from the home planet and its billions of years of effort to create one who could see it back.

We watch, the ape that walks and talks, thinks, sees, laughs and cries.  The arms and the legs and the mind and the heart of this universe, allowed here on the beach so we can act out our purpose, seeing the rest, looking for all this, back at all this, born of star dust and doomed or fated or blessed to return.

I have stood on the shore of time itself.  And so have you.

The Wall

Beltane                                                                          Early Growth Moon

I’ve hit some kind of wall.  All this straight at it time, working on Missing and translating Ovid, reading about the numinous and researching Edward Hopper, modernism and romanticism, all fun, all core to what I’m about in this phase of my life, but the weather and the constant intellectual push has me wanting some relief.  The garden often provides that balance for me, but the rain has kept us out of there and it looks like it might for the next couple of days, too.

Those tomatoes and peppers are in some UPS warehouse, supposed to be here today.  Kate bought annuals, laid in some root stimulator to support the transplants after they move from pot to ground.  So we have planting to do.  She also found a possible source of garden help for us while shopping at the Green Barn.  That would be nice.  We could do much more if we had an extra hand for the heavy and tedious stuff.

These walls come.  Then they go.  Right now I’m feeling over-stimulated, I think, too much going in and not enough going out.  Rewriting is no help in that it involves a lot of analyzing, decision making, recrafting.  Doesn’t have the same juice as writing from scratch.

Minute Men

We sat, the four of us, old and getting older by the minute men, at a round table just like the one from Arthur’s court, poorly lit but filled with food and drink. (water)  The conversation ranged from a recent retiree wondering if he should be working on what he should do next or should he wait until the summer thinking deadline (self-imposed) had passed to the possible toxic effects of too much boron in the soil.

(Caspar David Friedrich, Stages of Life, 1835)

The herd goes its separate ways, especially in the summer months, so our monthly restaurant meetings are sometimes sparsely attended.  This one had Scott, Bill, Warren and me to carry on the conversation, now exceeding 25 years in length about our lives, our feelings, what’s showing up for us right now.

It Won’t Be Long Now

Beltane                                                                        Early Growth Moon

A poignant and salient answer to how to live the third phase came from an 18 year old Minnesotan, Zach Sobiech, who died yesterday of bone cancer.  Not much of a conversationalist or a letter writer, Zach’s Mom told him he needed to do something, something that would let people know he was here and leave them memories of him.  Diagnosed with osteosarcoma when he was 14, the cancer did not prevent him from writing and singing songs of his own.

He became an internet viral celebrity with the song, Clouds, downloaded over 3 million times.

Those of us in the third phase understand the challenge Zach faced.  Death was no longer an abstraction, but a certain visitor.  As he says in this song, it won’t be long now.  Oh, we may have 20 years or 30 years, compared to his 4, but the link is the moment when you come to know this life ends.  For good and for ever.

(Alphonse Osbert – Les chants de la nuit.)

How did he respond?  He dug into the riches of his Self, shrugged off the self-pity and depression, and turned those feelings into art.  This is the best and healthiest way to greet the coming of the Sickle Bearer.  Find out who you are.  Find out what best expresses your journey, the ancientrail that has been, is, your life.  Then open up that expression, put it outside yourself for the rest of us to learn from, to cherish, to embrace.  Because it won’t be long now.