OK. I admit it. I occasionally take the quizzes that pop up on facebook. I mention this because one set of quizzes seems, well, accurate. The same quiz website offered two recently: What kind of ancient religion would you follow? What kind of philosopher are you?
Druid Harvesting Mistletoe
Though I thought I’d saved the piece about ancient religion, I didn’t. Still. The ancient religion that matched my answers? Celtic Druidism. How ’bout that? In the year leading up to my leaving the Presbyterian ministry I was in spiritual direction with John Ackerman at Westminster Presbyterian Church. When I told him I no longer believed in Jesus/God/Holy Spirit, but was more focused now on how I fit into the natural world, he said, “Well, you might be a druid.” He meant it. Not a flippant observation. Prescient.
Since then, the Great Wheel has become my liturgical calendar. I’m much more like what I would once have critiqued as a flat-earth humanist. That is, the metaphysical realms of the world religions seem like poetry to me rather than statements about ontology. I am not a new atheist, a scorner of faith and its many, many permutations. And, yes, I recognize the role religion plays in human conflicts, but I know that most of the time religions gather people of similar demographic characteristics. When conflict emerges, it often has roots in economic and political realities that align closely with religious preferences.
I did save the note about which philosopher I’m most like.* This also seemed apposite. It surprised me, in both instances, how the 29 questions they ask managed to get somewhere close to how I see myself.
*Your mind works like the philosopher: Thomas Paine
An anarchist who championed reason and free thought, Thomas Paine was never afraid to speak his mind no matter how unpopular or revolutionary his theories were. Like Paine, you see life as full of possibilities and love to shake up the status quo by thinking outside the box. You are spontaneous and communicate confidently and fluidly. Could you write a post to inspire world-transforming events like Paine’s pamphlet ‘Common Sense’ influenced the start of the American Revolution? Who knows? (But we think it might be worth a try.)
The dogs after delivery by Tom Crane and Kate, before the boxes
The move, two years plus later. On October 31st, Summer’s End of 2014, we closed on 9358 Black Mountain Drive. Later that same year, on December 20th, the Winter Solstice, we moved in. At the time we still owned our home in Andover, Minnesota. When the boxes piled up in all spaces of our new house, we looked at them, breathed in and out heavily and took a nap. We were to breathe in and out heavily for three months or so as our bodies adjusted to life at 8,800 feet.
The winter weather on Shadow Mountain that preceded and followed our move was snowy and cold. Even for two Minnesotans. We had to learn mountain driving on snowy, slick roads though the Jefferson County snowplows did do an excellent job of clearing and sanding our main road, Black Mountain Drive (Hwy. 78).
Progress, January 2015
Even so, living in the mountains was what we wanted and it was everything we hoped and more. Every drive took us past rocky, conifer covered mountain sides. We were on and among the Rocky Mountains.
Of course, yes, we moved out here to be closer to the grandkids and to Jon and Jen, family, 900 miles closer. Jen had expected us to move closer to them and was upset we decided to live in the mountains. We never did get her to understand that our move had two related, but distinct purposes: the first was to live in a place that we loved; the second to be with people we loved. Now that the divorce is over and the apres divorce time underway we are certainly glad we chose our home based on our dreams rather than hers.
Jon and Ruth clear our drive before the moving van comes
Kate rapidly found a quilting group, the Bailey Patchworkers, and began meeting with them monthly. Out of that group came an invitation to a smaller group of needle workers who also meet monthly. I didn’t find that kind of local connection until a few months ago when we both started attending Congregation Beth Evergreen. Since then, I’ve also found Organizing for Action-Conifer. We’re both gradually becoming part of our community here in the mountains; actually, communities, because we have as much affiliation with Evergreen, perhaps more, than we do with Conifer.
It’s been a medically eventful two years for me with prostate cancer in 2015 and the total knee in 2016. Kate’s rheumatoid arthritis led to hand/wrist surgery over a year ago and she continues to have degenerative disc disease related pain. Combined with the divorce, which began in earnest in May of 2016 and continues as Jon still lives with us, it means we’ve been very inwardly and family focused the whole time so far. We both hope this year gives us a break on the medical front and that Jon finds a new home for himself, Ruth and Gabe.
fire mitigation, 2015. Just before the solar panels were installed.
Every once in awhile, we say to each other: I’m glad we moved here. And we are. The mountains teach us, every day, what it means to be mountains and what it means to live among them from snowy weather to elk and mule deer to rushing spring streams to less available oxygen. We’re very glad we’ve been here to support Jon and the grandkids. Those two reasons for the move have both manifested themselves in positive ways.
We’ve begun our third year on Shadow Mountain. Can’t wait to see what happens next.
Kate and I supplied bagels, schmear and fruit for the bagel table at Beth Evergreen yesterday. The bagel table is a casual shabbat service that includes the prayer book and the torah reading. Yesterday the parsha was va-er, Exodus 6:2-9:26, for the most part the story of the plagues sent by God on Egypt.
Rabbi Jamie said that in one instance the verb usually translated as go, as in Go to Pharaoh, is actually come. The meaning shifts a good deal with this understanding. Come to Pharaoh implies, according to Jamie, that God will be acting through Pharaoh. This falls under the difficult to understand category for me.
Kate and I talked about this idea as we drove up Brook Forest Drive. After some conversation, we decided that if you pull back, look from a historical view, then the actions of Pharaoh do work as part of God’s efforts on behalf of the Jewish slaves. His hardened heart provides the impetus, eventually, for the Exodus.
We then turned to our contemporary Pharaoh, the Trump. Could God (whatever you want to insert into this metaphysical placeholder) speak to us through the Trump? Jamie’s point was that we have to see the potential for God to speak us especially through those things or persons that we fear or despise. I suppose. Let’s try here.
Pulling back, taking the historical view, what possible liberating impulse could come from Trump’s presidency? (I take liberating impulse to equal God.) It’s true that Trump’s election highlighted the plight of the white working class, those with no more than a high school education. And, it may be, policies to address their concerns will lift all of the working class, high school educated folks. That would be an astonishing and welcome outcome, at least to me.
Too, we might consider the orders to build the wall, block Muslim refugees from certain countries, repeal the ACA, gut environmental regulations as a hardening of the heart, a so-obvious step away from justice and fairness, a big step away from a sustainable future for humanity on this planet, that the reaction to them will part the climate denying sea and create the political will for single payer health care, a return to Ellis Island immigrant welcoming that so many of us yearn for. Maybe. I suppose it could happen that way. May it be so.
As you can tell though, I’m skeptical. But, if it can be, I’ll be the first in line to admit my skepticism unwarranted.
Something’s happening here. I attended a meeting last night of Organizing for Action-Conifer. This group has gone from 20 to 180 in four weeks and that in the rural mountains of southwestern Jefferson and eastern Park County. Resist was a big word for the night. Many of the women had on their pussy hats from either the Washington March, five women, or the Denver March, most of the rest with a few men.
We broke up to form issue working groups: ACA repeal, women’s health, immigration, climate change, marginalized groups, Jefferson County issues, Park County issues and redistricting/midterm elections. Though climate change is very important to me, I sat with the Jefferson County folks. Why? Because I believe the Republicans, especially the Tea Party and the Koch brothers, stole several steps on progressives by focusing on local and state elections. This move, very successful, allowed them to control state legislatures and often governorships, which in turn gave them power over redistricting.
The whole moment gave me a boost although my days of late night political strategy sessions are past. By 8:30 p.m. I’d begun to yawn, feel heavy since I’m usually in bed by that time. (and up at 4:30 a.m. to milk the cows. well, no. to feed the dogs) These kind of meeting times are necessary though since most folks work during the day.
So I’ve found some allies who live nearby. We’re already making phone calls, writing letters, visiting legislators at the state and federal levels, marching, planning for a sustainable group and getting focused on issues. I’m still waiting to see what Beth Evergreen creates. Something, I hope; but if not, OFA-Conifer is already at work.
I turn 70 next month. Not a particularly notable achievement since the silver tsunami includes millions doing the same thing this year, but, hey; it’s my only chance to hit three score and ten. Kate’s been there ahead of me and knows the territory, so have many friends. Thus, the Valentine moon.
The old man on Shadow Mountain, that’ll be me after Valentine’s Day. One piece of gathered wisdom from the time so far: life is still precious, love is still its heart.
The end of the day here on Shadow Mountain. The sun, disappearing behind Black Mountain, lights up a few narrow cumulus clouds while light leaves the land around our home.
My energy has begun to return to normal. It has taken this long, 8 weeks; but, I’m finally back to writing Superior Wolf and plan to get to the Latin soon. Those two plus writing this blog are my work right now.
The Beth Evergreen community has begun to feel like home, more so for Kate, I think, but somewhat for me, too. I imagine that feeling will deepen over time.
Tomorrow night I’m going to the Conifer Community Church for a meeting of Organizing for Action-Conifer. This will be my first meeting, perhaps their fourth or fifth. I’m looking forward to meeting like minded folk, allies in what will be a long pull.
A knee note. The last few visits of physical therapy are near. They’re working with me now on post p.t. workouts. Specifically, how I can avoid damaging my knee while strengthening my legs. Pretty much common sense. No deep squats, no torquing the knee, no exercises that weaken the back in anyway. Core work.
I felt silly asking about this today, but I did. How do I build back my cardio? I asked because I’d begun to get back to it, then pushed myself too fast and began to resist doing it at all. Slowly. That’s the ticket. First, 3 days a week. Then, either add a day at the same pace or increase by 10/20%. Oh. I was going for six days a week and kicking the time up five minutes at a whack. No wonder I was resisting.
Overall, the knee is great. Hardly any pain. I often forget now that I had the work done. Well, often might be a stretch, but I do have times when I forget. And that’s a good thing.
