I’m Still Learning

Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Grant Property Medics. The Wildflowers in the back. Their Pollen. Tarot and Kabbalah. Loki. Rain. Cool night. Alan. Breakfast out. Mussar. Its folks.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: I’m still learning.

Tarot card drawn this morning: 6 of cups

 

Rider-Waite six of cups

As you can see, I’ve added a new section. Rabbi Jamie’s Tarot and Kabbalah class started yesterday. A guy named Luke, a Tarot reader and scientist, has a co-teacher role.

The first class involved introductions and brief comments about the Tarot and its relationship to Kabbalah. Rabbi Jamie talked about the evolution of the standard deck of 52 cards used in various games in the U.S. He sees a direct line between the Tarot deck and the Bicycle cards shuffled and dealt thousands of times everyday. Probably millions of times.

Luke and Jamie suggested drawing a single card each morning, looking at it, considering its meaning, then doing an internet search for interpretations.

One way of reading Tarot cards involves an intuitive consideration of the art on the card. There are many, many decks designed over centuries and Luke’s guidance invited us to pick a deck whose illustrations speak to us.

Marseilles six of cups

The three decks I own, a reproduction of a very early deck, the Tarot of Marseilles, an Aleister Crowley designed deck, and one whose origins I don’t know, don’t appeal to me as reading decks. For example. I selected the six of cups from the Marseilles deck. It has six medieval style chalices, three on side and three on the other, separated by an abstract floral motif. Didn’t send my imagination into overdrive.

The Rider-Waite deck, however, which I ordered yesterday from Amazon, has the delightful scene above. With just a gentle nudge from the interpretations online I can get going with it.

For example: “The VI of Cups is rooted deep in the past, but it is also a card closely bound to your happiness. It suggests that your family, your old friends, perhaps even past lovers, are in the process of adding greatly to the joys in your life.”

Chilean Fjords

Or, “With the Six of Cups reversed, you can finally close accounts with the emotional undertow that has been part of your life. You can now revisit those wounded places calmly, without the fear that you will be drawn back in.

There is no lingering emotional residue or entrenched nostalgia remaining. You have finally digested those past experiences. They can now be put to rest.”

Whether the card is right side up or reversed influences the meaning. This morning I drew the six of cups reversed.

When I look at the Rider-Waite card with these ideas in mind, I see first the man walking away from the main scene, staff in hand. Perhaps the mature fool (the first card in the major arcana) setting out on a journey. He’s walking away from the pleasant associations in the foreground. A boy and girl enjoy a flower, a star shaped flower, perhaps one they grew together, as Kate and I used to do in Andover.

The man, a pilgrim?, has had to leave this wonderful memory behind and now walks alone. Perhaps not wholly alone though. The card suggests to me that as he’s leaving, it is this memory that he’s carrying with him. A pleasant, joyful one. A time of innocent love made clear through a link to the natural world, to flowers and stars and attractive scents.

He’s headed toward buildings of an antique style, but I imagine him only passing through them on a path. Perhaps they represent the past that innocent love created, a life of joy in small things. Flowers. Dogs. Music. Creating quilts and novels. Cooking. Traveling to foreign lands. A past he’s now able to leave behind, yet also a past that sustains his present and gives him joy.

What’s beyond the buildings? Unsure. A future though. One that sustains the joy of unconditional love in new ways and in new places and with new people, new events.

New land created by Pele, Kilauea

I find the notion of synchronicity, or no coincidences, difficult to swallow. My reason and logic say, hooey. On the other hand each instance in our life has a direct connection to whatever shows up in it.

That sounds obvious, is obvious, but it may obscure that these links are always known through our world of meaning. We interpret them through that world, our idiosyncratic web of associations. Each event and each particular in the event has meaning within our understanding, our way of making sense of this blooming, buzzing confusion we call consciousness. There are never any coincidences then, only new contexts for the worldview we take us with on our journey.

This six of cups card, drawn from a deck shuffled repeatedly, is not then a coincidence, but a direct link to my immediate past of mourning and grief, now resolving in favor of joy. A profound and innocent love, expressed often in our life together through nurture of the plant world, remains with me, sustaining me, as I head out towards an unknown future.

 

 

Post Covid. Or, not?

Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Rebecca of Conifer P.T. Stretches. New exercises. Shirley Septic Trash. Goodbye Mountain Waste. Bread Lounge Sourdough bread. Evergreen farmer’s market. Grant Property Medics. Money. Ruby. Kepler and Rigel.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Good bread.

 

Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls  Institute of Art

Post-pandemic life. For those with vaccines. In countries where vaccines exist in large numbers. Getting back to it. Mussar without masks. Dinner at a friend’s sans masque. Going into the grocery store. Talking with Eduardo yesterday evening. Feeling good.

Not really post-pandemic though. The Delta Variant (a movie thriller title?) will chew through red states where enforced ignorance has replaced any need for public policy. Just say no to the 2020 election results. Support your local klan.

Ignorance of the law, the laws of epidemiology in this instance, will not be an excuse when the virus comes to call. Sickness and death will follow. A sad story in the Washington Post a couple of days ago about nurses in Appalachian critical care units. Patients dying of covid saying it was the flu. Their families devastated, not sure what happened. The nurses standing in grocery store lines hearing people joke about the hoax of covid. Unmasked. A woman quoted in the article saying that it was public knowledge covid was really a way for doctors and hospitals to make more money.

And those countries that can’t afford the vaccines. Poor India. A quote from today’s New York Times:

Another wave of the pandemic is hitting many parts of the world, with countries in Asia, Africa and Latin America experiencing their highest caseloads, driven in part by the highly contagious Delta variant of the virus.

No. It may seem like a post-pandemic world for those of us with our filled out vaccines cards and the Pfizer or Moderna or Johnson and Johnson shots ramping up our immune responses, but we’re experiencing a privilege of the developed world. Of course, 45 did try to match our treatment of the virus to the worst places in the world: Brazil, India, South Africa, Chile, Mongolia. An election intervened and a determined 46 has put us in a much better place. Thank him and mRna.

Intersectionality. Often the study of race, class, and gender bias as they interweave. Covid’s intersections add another to the mix: the politicized anti-science response to the politicized pro-science response. With mask policies in retreat around the country the guidance is that those unvaccinated need to wear masks. The rest of us, the vaccinated, the saved, no.

Does anybody believe those unvaccinated by choice will wear masks? I don’t. Which makes it hard to impossible to know who’s unmasked thanks to immune responses and those unmasked due to Trump induced brain trauma.

An interesting graphic from the Economist suggests that being out of the house and shopping has edged close to pre-pandemic levels in a sample of 50 countries. On the other extreme attendance at sports events, flying, and movie going remain severely affected.

We will never regain the old normal. A new normal, yes, but not the old one. What will change? Hard to know for sure but it’s clear the nature of work and where work happens will be one. Grieving families, nations will have to reorient themselves after great loss. Travel may change, too. Some believe business travel will never resume its former pace. mRna vaccines may provide a new frontier in the fight against viral illnesses, especially the seasonal flu.

I want to know what you think. What will change, what will remain the same?

 

Quiet days and pruning

Summer and the Lughnasa Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Marilyn and Irv, their two dogs. Dick and Ellen, their two sons. Chicken. Good conversation. Safeway. Grocery pickup. Pruning. Continuing. Picking up a bit. A cool morning. Sky a gauzy blue.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Bread Lounge’s Sourdough, Pullman style

 

Manta, Ecuador

A Saturday. Got groceries. Went over to a friends for dinner. Did more pruning downstairs. Nap. A quiet day. Today, the same.

I like quiet days. When Kate said, let’s take a cruise, I was skeptical. Thinking Princess ships with 8,000 people having FUN. Our first cruise, in fact all of our cruises, were on Holland America instead. 2,000 people or so. Still a lot, but an older crowd, more interested in fun, not FUN.

We flew to Florida, Ft. Lauderdale, I think. Boarded the ship there and proceeded to sail (motor?) through the Caribbean, to the Panama Canal, then onto the Port of Los Angeles. Several stops along the way, but the days I liked best were the days at sea. On the Gulf or the Pacific, nothing else to do but relax and enjoy the ride. Quiet days.

I like quiet days and, as I’m discovering, I like living alone. Of course, I’d have Kate back in a heartbeat, but since I can’t. On quiet days I can focus on what I want to, at the pace I want. If I need attention and love, Kep and Rigel come. Not what I expected after Kate’s death.

In our stateroom

As the pruning proceeds, I’m moving lots and lots of Kate’s things. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, coats, hand creams and foot lotions, old meds, her black bag with the stethoscope. Her sewing room. Filled with squares of cloth for piecing into a quilt. Sewing machines. Plastic forms for cutting angles in cloth. Rotary cutters. Threads of all colors. Quilting magazines. Batting. The material world she left behind.

Yesterday I e-mailed Mt. Evans Hospice and Home Care to see if they wanted the two boxes full of tube-feeding supplies and some adult diapers still in packaging. The long-arm left, as I said, Friday.

As this work continues, I’m finding space opening up in the house. Neither of us had the energy to consolidate, organize, reshape our living area over the last couple of years. And, she had her spaces, closets and rooms, as I have mine.

The opening space feels good to me. Again, not something I expected. It’s the not the absence of Kate’s stuff; rather, it’s the creation of space, of space not filled up. This may be a Marie Kondo moment for me. Sort of. Seoah likes minimal furniture, often an Asian preference. I’m finding I do, too.

2015

We’ll see how it all works out, but I have a clear plan. Up to a point. I know furniture I want to sell or give away. I have places I want to move current furniture. Storage will begin to take on my scheme, not better than ours together, but one that conforms to my biases.

In mussar we often say the outer affects the inner. That is, if we change our behavior, we can change our character. In order to increase generosity, be generous. In order to increase compassion, be compassionate. I suspect this changing of my home’s physicality is the same. To live in Charlie’s best manner, redesign Charlie’s house.

What is this place? 2015. Vega and Rigel.

My imagination says that when I get the house redone, perhaps with the aid of an interior decorator and some remodeling, new staining on the exterior, then my interior life will change as well. Just how, I don’t know, but it seems likely.

The loft will undergo less rethinking, but I do have a plan to make the eventual disposition of my library easy for my heirs. Donate some now. Make sure the best loved and used books stay nearby. Organize the rest so they can be boxed and carried out to Half-Price Books or the Evergreen Library or some other place. Less clear on all my files, my 9 complete manuscripts and the ones still aborning. Those four plastic bins filled with printed pages of Ancientrails. My art. Noodling.

 

 

Reimagining Home

Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Shirley Waste Removal. Mountain Waste Removal. Jon, Ruth, and Gabe. Up here at last. Diane on Zoom. Mary and Seoah English classes. Rebecca at Conifer P.T. A muscle strain. Stretches.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family.

 

Cleared out that closet next to the boiler area. Gave luggage to Jon, Ruth, and Gabe which, it turns out, they’ll use this Thursday when they fly to Minnesota.

They’re going on a road trip with Annie’s new Jeep, which she’s giving to Jon. Annie, who lives in Waconia, moves to North Carolina sometime in the next month. An assisted living center near Sarah and Jerry, who live in Bellews Creek. Their trip includes Falling Waters and other destinations TBD. Including a stop in Bellews Creek. Sounds fun to me.

Jon is still having trouble with panic attacks. His whole endocrine system seems wobbly, this affecting that, then that affecting something else. No fun at all. Impacting his sleep, too.

Into the cleared out shelving will go comforters though I plan to prune them, too. With the luggage I’m keeping consolidated there is plenty of room for storage there. After I finish that, I’m going to clear off the long arm, which has accumulated stuff. Also going to get Kate’s quilting and sewing stuff ready for Ruth, Jamie, and Laurie.

When that’s done? The closets around the TV, then the clothes in the bedroom. Plan to move the Teak chest of drawers upstairs into the guest room. Leave two drawers empty. Storage in the rest. Keeping at it until the house has the Stickley table upstairs in the sewing room, the Stickley couch out there also.

At Domo

Considering moving the two chairs downstairs up in front of the fireplace, buying a smaller couch to replace them. Perhaps some William Morris wallpaper. Not sure where, but I love his stuff. Stay roughly in the Arts and Crafts aesthetic. If I’m going to live here long term, I want the house reflect me.

Kate’s stuff will not be gone. Jerry’s paintings, her quilts and counted cross stitch, her sculpture, her retirement present, the Granlund, the work I bought her for her 75th. Plus a lot else will remain.

I do want to erase the feeling of the house as an assisted living facility. That phase of its use is over now and it felt less like home than it did a functional, medically oriented dwelling. Which worked well while we needed it. And, I’m glad it did. Still, not the world I want to live in now.

Went to P.T. yesterday. Rebecca poked and prodded, had me bend and twist. Her conclusion? My long walks on Hickam were too much for my right leg. I strained a muscle and the result can be felt, a knot over my femur head which radiates pain in several directions. Her therapy? Stretches, then a gradual reentry to my exercise routine. About 4 weeks.

Life flows on, in endless song, how can I keep from singing.

 

Back in the Mountains Again

Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Franny and the Jets. Alan, proud poppa. Jon, calmer. Downtown Denver. The 16th Street Mall. The new breakfast place. Beignets. Feeling a bit lost yesterday afternoon.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Front Range last night with the Sun setting behind it as I drove home.

 

June, 2019, our backyard

Back now, reabsorbed into the Mountains. Surprised yesterday to see a for sale sign on Holly and Eduardo’s house. They’re moving to Palm Springs, close to it. Eduardo got a new job with the same company, a commercial laundry. Sad to see them go.

Holly told me that Jim and Roberta, who live next to them, got divorced and their house will be up for sale, too. We’ll find out how accurate the (seemingly) inflated estimates are for our house prices.

Drove over to Evergreen yesterday AM and had breakfast with Alan. Cheri, his wife, has organized a big July 4 music festival for Evergreen. She also did one for Memorial Day. A lot of work. Good for the town.

The continuous rains we’ve had have greened up the Mountains. All the Plants look happy, watered, vibrant.

Elk Meadow, which I passed on the way to breakfast yesterday, was the first tract of land protected by a community land trust based in Evergreen. It’s big. The namesake Animals lay down in the grass, others wandered, eating. Highway signs say Watch for Elk. Scan the Roadside.

Got my x-rays back. No cancer, at least in these views. Whew. In the dry and matter of fact way of these reports: “X-rays show no acute changes; just old degenerative changes to lumbar spine and right hip.

That’s me. An old degenerate. P.T. starts next week.

Still busy with this and that. Mostly. Yesterday afternoon though I’d paid all the bills, had breakfast with Alan, napped. Nothing really to do until 5 pm when I would leave for Dazzle Jazz in downtown Denver. Got to feeling displaced, a bit down. X-ray findings, while not terrible, reminded me of my own mortality. Which seems more real now with Kate’s death.

Also, Dr. Thompson told me not to take anti-inflammatories because of “your vascular disease.” Oh. I haven’t taken them for years, but that was because of kidney disease. I have atherosclerosis, my Midwest U.S. diet hasn’t helped. Since mom and dad both had strokes a reminder of the vascular disease sent me down a short rabbit hole.

Steadied. Sure, I’ll die. When? Don’t know. Today? Well, if so…

Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

Alan’s daughter Franny is a jazz singer with a band called the Jets. They played an Amy Winehouse set yesterday. Dazzle Jazz @ Baurs. I saw her there three years ago when she decided to give up music and had a farewell show. Felt like I’d seen the end, so I wanted to see the beginning. She’s young.

Invited Jon. We had dinner, enjoyed the show. The band took a while to gel, but when they got there, it was good. Being there was therapeutic for me. Saw a lot of CBE’ers and had time with Jon. He’s on a beta blocker now which seems to have calmed him down. A good thing.

I can now find my way out of Denver without GPS. That feels good. It’s taken a while since I’m not in Denver often. The Mountains, as Jen pointed out long ago, line the western horizon. Angle toward them and you get outta town.

As I drove home last night, the setting sun backlit the Front Range, giving it a paper cutout look with jagged peaks in black against a blueblack and white sky. Beautiful, poignant.

When I turned off 470 onto 285, my favorite sign shone up ahead: Watch for Rocks and Wildlife. That’s home.

 

 

Life Incidental

Summer and the Shadow Mountain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Conifer P.T. Hearing care. Leigh Thompson. Health Care Imaging. Jon and his pain. Ruth and Gabe. Kep and Rigel, who couldn’t wait. Happy Camper. Widower, being one. CBE.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: X-Rays. Medical care.

The Cuna Islands off Panama

What I call the medical stretch of Co. Hwy. 470, heading south from 285. Went on it yesterday for the first time since Kate died, alone. To see my (our) doc, Leigh Thompson. A pang of remembrance that our outings for the last year plus came along this stretch of road and the one leading to Swedish Hospital.

Dr. Thompson said she was sorry about Lynne’s death. And, she was. She tried to help, but Kate’s situation had progressed too far for successful intervention. She didn’t even know her well enough to call her Kate. Dr. Thompson also probed me for signs of depression, complicated grief. Do you have a good support system? Yes.

Where does it (did it) hurt? Here, here. Along my right leg, upper thigh, above my sacrum. How much better is it now? 60-80%. Why was I there? I wanted to get back to exercise, but not aggravate, worsen the pain. And, I didn’t know how it happened.

We agreed on physical therapy. Which I love. Targeted and helpful. Clear instructions. I’ll get a path back to regular exercise. Which I want and need. Also, X-rays.

I admit. Incidental findings. Often the punch behind the actual reason for the imaging. Hope they don’t find metastasized cancer. David and Charlie both have prostate cancer growing in their sacrums. Don’t want it in mine.

Jon had another panic attack bringing Ruth and Gabe up here. He didn’t get out of the city. Called an ambulance. Went back home. Jen picked up the kids. Not sure what’s going on, but I imagine grief playing a large role.

Now I have p.t. to schedule and a hearing exam. Yes, I got right on that hearing issue I had at the airport in Hawai’i. Approach the problem and deal with it. Keep moving.

Waiting on a call back from social security.

Today I’m going back to mussar for the first time in over a year in person. Looking forward to resuming that study. I also signed up for another Rabbi Jamie class through the Kabbalah Experience. A focus on the kabbalistic roots of the Tarot. I’ve had a long time interest in the tarot, waxing and waning. Wrote one book that featured chaos magic. I used a lot of tarot card lore in it. Starts mid-July.

Keep moving. Stay in the present, but keep moving. Is that an oxymoron? Xeno’s paradox in modern psyche help shorthand.