Shaken, Not Stirred

Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Saturday gratefuls: The Fog. Dr. Gustave. Christine, optical technician. Good pressures. Cataracts and Cataract surgery. Getting gas. Freddie’s delicious Steak burgers. Air conditioning in ruby. Hungarian goulash by Seoah. Friends at CBE. Home. Shadow Mountain. The Mountains. Down the Hill.

Not sure how to talk about this. It’s unpleasant, but I need to put out there the profound dis-ease I felt yesterday. A twice canceled appointment with my ophthalmologist, Dr. Gustave, found me the only car in the Corneal Consultants parking lot. Check-in was by cell phone as was word that they were ready to see me. After locking ruby I walked into the building to find myself the only patient there. Most of the spaces inside, including the waiting area, were dark. It felt like exploring an abandoned structure.

Christine and I greeted each other through our masks, mine a ks94 mailed to us from Korea by Seoah’s Sister and Brother-in-law. We walked past empty exam rooms, the retina camera and visual field equipment room.

We’ll be in here. Any issues with your vision? Yes. My hearing is affecting my vision. When I watch television, I use closed captions, but they’re getting blurry. Also, why are my eyes turning blue?

Dr. Gustave a bit later. We’ll be taking those cataracts out as soon as elective surgeries are authorized again. It wasn’t my glasses? No. Morgan Freeman has the same condition with his eye color. Is it pathological? No. A part of aging for you.

The whole experience there was unsettling. Christine told me they would wipe down the exam room with clorox after I left. That made me feel strange. It was wise, yes, but still.

There were further errands to run. I needed to get some cash, so I went to a Wells Fargo branch that I know has a drive-through. This drive through is closed. Huh? O.K. I put the Korean mask back on, slipped a glove on my right hand, and went into the lobby prepared to face actual people. But from a safe distance. Closed. This branch has been closed for a month said guy coming downstairs from his office above the bank. Well. Damn.

At Freddy’s Steak Burger I waited in a very long line, maybe 15 cars, to get a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake. A treat I’d looked forward to when I knew I would be visiting this bank. They’re close by each other. A Chick Fil’a up the street had employees outside, helping drive-up customers. Freddy’s did not.

Unease had begun to set in when I walked through the darkened halls of Corneal Consultants. It got amplified by the absence of other patients, by the clorox comment, by the face shield worn by Dr. Gustave. The closed bank. The very long line at Freddy’s. The also closed car wash where I got gas. The dysfunctional car wash I tried next further down Hwy 470. I wanted to get home.

Getting into the mountains usually calms me, but this time unwelcome anxiety had seeped in, jangled my nerves. I felt better on 285, headed toward Conifer, but not ok. I mailed some bills in Aspen Park.

At home I recounted this trip to Kate. I felt unsafe, I told her. People weren’t wearing masks. The step back from stay at home orders meant there were a lot more people out, cars on the road. All the signals of the contagion. Dark exam rooms. A closed bank. Where, btw, our safety deposit box is. The car washes. The long line at Freddy’s.

It left me, I said, a bit shaken. Dis-eased. I’m so glad to be home. It’s safe here. I don’t want to go out again.

When I heard myself say that, and when I realized I meant it, I felt old and frail. Which of course jacked everything else up a little higher.

It’s the next morning now. I’ve had some sleep. I’m aware how much my home means to me. How important it is to have this shelter right now. Yet, I still feel the dark penumbra of the virus corona. It has changed my world and I don’t like the feeling of threat that has come with it.

Beltane 2020

Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II

Friday gratefuls: Dr. Gustave and his care for my glaucoma. Another Colorado sunny day, blue sky. The ski runs on Black Mountain still have snow, like our backyard. Bernard Cornwall, historical fiction writer. People who write. Buddy Mark Odegard’s Starry Night. A slow workout yesterday.

Ennui. A word for a pandemic. Punctuated though by what Woolly Jim Johnson referred to as the perennial. It’s Lambing time on the Casper’s ranch outside Aberdeen, South Dakota. This is an ancient ritual honored first on the Great Wheel by Imbolc on February 1st. Imbolc means in the belly and refers to the pregnancy of the Ewes.

Imbolc, which marks a season by the fertility of a farm’s Ewes, is one of four Celtic cross-quarter holidays. Cross-quarter holidays come between the equinoxes and the solstices. Thus, Imbolc is halfway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

Beltane, the next cross-quarter holiday, is today, between the Spring Equinox and the Summer Solstice. In the deep past the Celts only had two seasons, the fallow time beginning at Samain on October 31st, and Beltane, the growing season, which started on May 1st.

Beltane marked the beginning of a market week when villagers would come together to sell goods made over the fallow time, livestock, and any foodstuffs in surplus. Couples interested in each other as potential partners could do a handfasting, marriage for a year and a day. Workers made contracts for the growing season with farmers.

Bonfires blazed at night. Cattle were driven through them to ward off disease and women wishing to quicken would leap over smaller fires. Men and women made love in the fields, hoping to transfer their fertility to the soil.

Beltane’s coming means the Great Wheel has turned toward growth, fertility, abundance. In spite of a human pandemic Daffodils*, Crocus, Grape Hyacinths, Bloodroot, spring ephemerals that bloom before the trees leaf out have come. The Lodgepole Pines have their new cones. The Aspens have buds. Robins and Hummingbirds have returned to the mountains. The Black Bears forage while yearling Mule Deer hunt for good food amongst all the greening.

Look for what is growing within you. Within your relationships. Outside your front door. The coronavirus will wane. You need growth. This is a wonderful time to seek what’s pushing through the Soil of your Mind.

*I’m adopting Robin Wall Kimmerer’s suggestion to capitalize names of those things animated by the Great Spirit, Ohr, the One. This signals my respect for the living world. I’m also adopting her understanding of animacy which includes all things except those made by human hands. So, for instance, Rock. Black Mountain. Grass. Soil.