Monthly Archives: March 2022

Cinema and Television, Colorado, Coronavirus, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Shadow Mountain, The Move, Weather +Climate

Kavanah

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Spring and the waning sliver of Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Snow. Cooler. Cytopoint. Syringes. Home injections. Orgovyx. Erleada. Levothyroxine. Life. Living it. Well. Eudaimonia. Taoism. Travel. Short trips. Long trips. Boredom. Organization. Dullness. Joy. Chicken pot pies. Art. Music. David Sanders. Kate, always Kate. Rigel. Gertie. Vega. The Colorado dogs. With Kep. Who yet lives.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Max. The baby. Growing. Sitting up on his own. Go, Max. Go, Kate.

 

The days of our lives are sand in an hourglass. Do they still make soap operas? Is there still day time TV? I cut the cord so long ago that I have no idea. TV news is an oxymoron. Infotainment is not a thing. It’s a distortion of what the news was meant to be. The strait jacket of a show at one time. Escaped. Death by a thousand channels, most of them unwatchable? Escaped.

If sports were your thing, cutting the cord would have been difficult. I get that. But I was a Vikings fan. The football equivalent of a Cubs fan before they broke away from their apparent destiny. Didn’t miss it. Especially now in Colorado.

Movies. Yes. Series dramas. Yes. Comedy. Yes. Content from all over the world. Yes. With Netflix, Amazon Video, and HBO Max I’m happy. Maybe a bit too happy. The amount of good, even great content, has grown so fast.

Kingdom

The Koreans have given us dramas in a new tone, more human, less formulaic. Then there are the history based series like the Vikings, the Last Kingdom, Qin Empire: The Alliance, Resurrection: Ertugrul. Science fiction.

First run movies. Caches of old movies. HBO Max provides access to the Turner Classic Movies archive as well as Studio Ghibli. And the occasional Criterion flick.

All you have to day is pony up some cash, sit your butt in the chair, find that remote, and you’re off to the Warring States Period, the rise of the Ottoman Empire, Space Force, anime. Spirited Away. I’m only a little ashamed to admit that I love it.

The shame comes in when I admit how much I’ve been loving it. More than I need. Less than I want. Not sure how to balance this as part of my day. I’ve made advances. I’ve taken back reading time from the TV.

Now that my energy has improved, I see the trap the weariness had snapped around me. Oh, I’m too tired. But, I can watch TV. Covid played a role here, too. And Kate’s long illness. However those are dropping away, have dropped away.

Intentional. Kavanah. What’s your intention? A Jewish idea that informs prayer. You’re not supposed to pray without intention. No formulary, rote prayer. Know what you mean to do with your prayer.

Kavanah. Our hours need kavanah. My hours, the late afternoon hours, need kavanah. I’ve allowed myself to get into a rut. Intention can lift me out of it.

Working on it. Boredom helps. Energy helps. The coming of Spring helps. I can do this.

What will help most are two things: 1. finishing the kitchen, common room, my level refurbish, remodel, redecorate. 2. finishing my work with David Sanders, turning the ship of my life toward a new destination without losing the gifts I have in it right now.

A slow process. Grief. For me at least. But, a needed process. Letting go of Kate yet keeping her close. Difficult inner work.

Will be doing more of all this today. And tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow hopefully not to the last syllable of recorded time.

Colorado, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Judaism, Kabbalah, Mountains, Shadow Mountain

What Then?

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Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. Thanks to folks we maybe never got around to. David Scruton, first anthropology professor. Bill and Gloria Gaither, high school teachers who’ve gone on to, well, glory. And lotsa cash. Bob Lucas, my boss at the Presbytery back in the day. Sent two off, the third later this morning. Gratitude is never out of time. Energy still good. Blood work tomorrow. Oncologist a week from today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gratitude

 

Energy remains up. And, surprisingly, the shortness of breath I would get from moving around without much exertion is gone, too. Guess that thyroid is pretty important. Getting things done.

As I get them done, I wonder what will happen when I’m finished. What then? I’ll have a remodeled kitchen, a more comfortable and usable common room with art where I want it. My space downstairs will be finished. The loft organized.

Beginning to suspect that all this work, though welcome and delightful, has been a distraction. Or, perhaps better, a way to process grief through physical changes. As Kate’s yahrzeit approaches and the weather tries to be springlike, as the common room, the kitchen, and my level move closer to the finish line, I feel like I’m going to hit a moment of so much freedom that I will be overwhelmed.

After the big do in April, I’m going to head off into Colorado for some road trips. I need to get offa this mountain, down where the air is thicker, and go from here to there. I have a list, one Jackie, my hair stylist, and I came up with last fall.

It includes Marble, Gunnison, Dinosaur National Monument, Royal Gorge, Sand Dunes National Park, Grand Junction, and visiting hot springs. Not all on one trip of course. Four Corners is another. Then there’s hopping over to Utah.

In mid summer I’m heading to Hawaii. I plan to be there over Seoah’s birthday which is on July 4th. Do something patriotic with the new citizen and her spouse. Might try to visit my sis in Japan later in the year, then hop over to Taipei for the National Museum.

This week David Sanders and I will discuss his thoughts on what I might be up to next. Could be more of the same, I suppose. Could be more intentional. Writing. CBE work. Paint. Entertain. Could be something I’m not planning on right now.

Class reunion in September, maybe. Visit Minnesota on the way there or the way back.

Actually I have no idea what I’m doing right now. Putting one foot in front of the other, doing this and that with Kep and the family, with CBE. Waiting, too. Sadness and grief occupy some time as well.

Life. Going on. As it does.

 

 

 

 

 

Denver, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mountains, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

Spontaneity

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Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Dr. Beresford-Kroeger. A Celtic guide to the next future. Thanks, Tom. Ruth and Cord, a boy who thinks she’s pretty. She is, btw. Spontaneity. 76 degrees in Denver yesterday! 63 back home! The genuine weirdness of a Mountain Spring. Big Snow coming. Sushi. Ichi-go, ichi-e. Driving back into the Mountains after having been down the Hill. The Container Store. Energy.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ruth in strong like. Very Sweet.

 

So. Looked up Orgovyx and thyroid. Nothing there. Then, uh-oh. Erleada and thyroid. 10% of participants experienced, you guessed it, hypothyroidism. Most likely culprit since my tsh, thyroid stimulating hormone, went way up after I started taking Erleada. The things I do to keep cancer at bay.

Don’t know yet if this is a permanent condition or whether it will wane when (if?) I go Erleada. I see Eigner on April 4th and that will be an early question.

On the bright side of it, however, the levothyroxine seems to have taken hold earlier than Kristen said it would. Almost immediately. And my energy level has gotten soooo much better that

I did something spontaneous yesterday. Combination of Covid, Kate’s long illness, grief, and winter kept me home focused, planning focused, remodeling focused. When I went out, it was to pick up groceries, takeout, deliver food, occasionally go to mussar or down the hill for a medical appointment. And come straight home. Relieved and happy to return.

Yesterday though. I had breakfast with Alan at the Parkside cafe. We talked about his recent trip to NYC. His daughter Francesca has moved there. My burst of energy. His learning about a Catholic priest studying genocide that I’ll write more about when I get his website from Alan. Commercial property vacancies. Taxes. And other stuff like friends do.

When I waved to him as he headed toward his Tesla, I thought. What the hell. It’s a nice day. I’ll go to the Container Store. Something I’ve been to do ever since the almost completion of my kitchen remodeling. I sat in Ruby for a minute refreshing my memory of its Lone Tree location. The map on my phone pointed me into Denver for the closest location.

Nah. I want to go in and out. Back home. That was last three plus years thinking. Found my way down North Turkey Creed Road to 285 and headed east intending to get on 470 and drive to Lone Tree. Got to about Indian Hills and thought, What the hell? It’s a nice day.

I pulled off the road. Called Jon. No answer. Called Gabe since Ruth is usually asleep until noon. Could I meet them for a late lunch after I went to the Container Store. Yes.

OK. Then. Instead of 470 I continued on 285 to University Avenue, past Swedish Hospital where I took Kate so many times to University Avenue and headed north to Cherry Creek. Cherry Creek is Edina, Grosse Pointe, Shaker Heights only in the city of Denver.

After driving past the University of Denver with its fauz Gothic buildings and Iliff Seminary, both fine Methodist institutions, I hit the Cherry Hall Shopping Center. Gucci. Yeti. With free standing stores. And one very big Container Store.

It’s motto, improbably to this sometime metaphysician, is Where space comes from! It was 10:30 on a Sunday morning. The folks shopping looked college aged, maybe from the University of Denver? I wandered, getting a gestalt of the plastic and glass containers for cereals, coffee beans, rice, flour. Looking for lazy susans for under my sink and in my spick/cooking oils cabinets. Dividers for my silverware drawer. That sort of thing.

Picked out a few things, paid my bill, went to the car. Called the Aurora Olsons and we settled on Stanley Marketplace for sushi. There I saw Ruth as a shyly proud young woman who has experienced the attentions of a young man. So, so sweet. And, made the spontaneity feel more than worth it.

After we finished, she opened her arms for a hug. “You’re my sweetheart,” I said. “And Cord’s.” She replied. Sorry Kate’s not seeing this.

Back home I fed a hungry Kep. Got back right at his feeding time which pleased him. Me, too.

Sat down, pleased with my self for a simple joy. And thought, if this were to be my life, that would be ok.

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Great Work, Mountains, Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant., Science, World History

No Wonder

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Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Alan. Boredom. Sadness. Missing Kate. Clean Kep, so playful in the morning. The up and the down of grief. Warm weather. More Snow coming. Ruby. Her need for the bad fuel. Habituation, the helpful and the unhelpful. Getting to the inflection point. The delicacy of an early Morning blue Sky over Black Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Boredom

 

Feeling my way into boredom, sadness, and grief. Sounds like a devil’s potion moving toward despair, but I don’t think so. Instead it feels like my psyche trying to break free.

Yes, I sat and cried yesterday afternoon. In that time after my nap and before evening when I feel. Pointless. Bored. Don’t want to read. Don’t want to watch TV. (a good feeling at that hour.) Don’t want to study. Don’t want to write.

Pointless. I have no purpose, no way forward. Just traveling. Walking. Slow. Along the ancientrail of longing for. Something. I know not what.

That delicate blue Sky has a few puffs of Cumulus now, lit up by a turning Earth revealing the Sun’s presence to start a new day. Whirling through the vacuum of space around and around and around. Following the Light Giver like a trapped Angel. As all the Angels and their Light Giver twirl outward from their home. A journey of ancient celestial mechanics. Glory. Glory. Glory. Hallelujah.

This journey older by far than the Laramide Orogeny, one that places the whole of Earthly Creation in its proper perspective. Deer Creek Canyon and its consolation nods to its Progenitor.

Purpose and purposelessness burn away. Sadness and grief burn away. Life itself burns away. We travel because we are in the journey and of its Way. The path is our meaning and our destruction. Like sadness and grief.

See the Self here. On a high velocity spaceship created not by rocket science. No. But by the forces that made possible the rocket scientist herself. Made possible that Fish clambering across the liminal zone between Water and Land. Made possible that one-celled Creature. Swimming. And even then the journey had long been underway.

Ah. No wonder the Taoist says follow the Water.

 

Cinema and Television, Dogs, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Shadow Mountain, Writing

Every Single Day

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Spring and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Friday gratefuls: Therapy. David. A new way of choosing what to eat. (not a “diet”). Ukraine. Putin. Russia. The Russian Orthodox Church. The Presbyterian Church. Reconstructionist Judaism. Taoism. Animism. Paganism. March Madness. How about St. Peter’s! Playing the Boilermakers. Santayana. Unamuno. William James. My always friend, philosophy. And, always Kate.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Energy

 

David’s going to write up some material based on the work we’ve done over the past month or so. We’ll discuss it next week. Still eye on the ball. What’s this new life? What does this 75 year old man want to do next?

wallup.net

An odd feeling drives my interest in it now. Boredom. I’ve argued often that boredom is a good thing. Doesn’t feel good, but the purpose vacuum lures creativity. The boredom grows from my new found energy. I find the late part of the afternoon excruciating. Bored. Too much energy to sit still. Too much habituation over the last three plus years and this last year in particular to sitting, watching TV.

The blank space in the afternoon has become my prod, a goad. What follows from here? Yes, wu wei. Yes. Still, I want to have some things to flow with, to carry me along toward that great ocean beyond this reality. I don’t want to get caught in meaningless productivity or pointless “hobbies”. I also don’t want to continue as I am now. A good sign, I think.

David’s work is part of that. An outside observer, skilled in the psyche. Looking forward to what he has to say.

 

Today was write Ancientrails. Breakfast. David. Workout. Mussar. That got me to 2:30. Kep starts looking at me with those adult doggie eyes around this time. Dinner, dad? Now? No, not yet. 3 pm. Dinner, dad? Now? This is a minute later. Nope. You have to wait. He waits, slumping down on the floor, almost a sulk but not quite.

After that? Not much. TV. Reading Amanda Palmer. Working the Wordle and the Spelling Bee. Looking out at the backyard, wondering when it will hit me. This. Is. The. Way. Considering that may never happen. A little frightening. Forced to live a life of food, reading, friends, and family. Travel. Oh. The horror.

Life is a cabaret, old friend. May it never end.

 

Damn. Those Ukrainians! A counter punch. How bout that? I’ve thought of Paul Wellstone’s buddy, Al Franken. It takes brains to be a good comedian, a talent for observation, for understanding how people’s psyche works. Not a surprise that Zelensky has done well. That he’s done much better than well? A big surprise to Putin and the Russian Army. He may end up having the last laugh.

Saw this on Facebook and can’t resist sharing here:

 

Cooking, Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Friends, Health, Mountains

To Bailey, To Evergreen, And Home Again

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Spring and Seoah’s Citizenship Moon

Thursday gratefuls: David Sanders. Mussar. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Amanda. A clean, much more slender Kep. His schedule with Amanda. Good Will in Evergreen. Last of the pruning gone. More, still much more to come. Pruning. Energy. Eigner. More blood work next week. Diane. Mediterranean diet. Milk Street cookbook, thanks Ode.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Kep smells so good!

 

Yesterday. Wrote Ancientrails. And posted it to the web! Glad to have that back as a regular event.

Took Kep to Bailey to Award Winning Pet Grooming. Amanda is a sweetheart. Dropped him off, then turned around and drove back to Evergreen. Goodwill Donation Center. It was very windy, not too cold unless a blast of air caught you. Gusts in the 60 mph range.

I tried to get somebody to help me unload. Still thinking, I can’t do this. Not sure why but I couldn’t find anybody. The back, filled with large gray plastic bins for sorting donations, had someone carrying in a student desk (I could see it over the bins), but no one responded.

Ah well. I started unloading. Huh. This isn’t so bad. I finished with ease. Not huffing and puffing, not feeling like I needed a nap or a good long sitdown. Huh. This is just weird. I thought. But good weird. Yeah.

The trip to Evergreen took about 45 minutes. Amanda said to figure three hours for Kep, maybe two if he was ok with the whole process. Turned around and drove back to Bailey.

Thanks, Ode

Earlier in the day I talked to my cousin Diane who lives in the land of the salad eaters, San Francisco. She saw my mention of constipation and said I wouldn’t have it if I went full Mediterranean diet. Oh.

Told her before she mentioned that that I’ve been able to keep at exercising because it gives me a right now benefit. I feel better. Today. Psychically and physically. Also helps with sleep. But diet? No immediate payoff, so I’ve not been able to switch.

She had a meat and potatoes diet growing up, the same as me. But, she said, living in the Bay Area had gradually weaned her from the Midwest heart attack/stroke focused diet to one favored by the Levant. She encouraged me, again. Thanks, Diane.

Realized as I drove back from Evergreen. Constipation. Mediterranean diet and no constipation. That’s a right now positive effect. Like exercise. OK. That makes sense.

Not too far from China Village. Gives the flavor of Bailey and Park County

Decided to try Golden Pines Chinese in Pine Junction, about half way back to Bailey. Easy to go Mediterranean there. Nope. Closed for a “much needed family reunion.” OK. On t the Riverbend for a salad. The Riverbend doesn’t open until 3 pm, I learned. Well. I’ll have a final old style breakfast at the Cut Throat Cafe. Chairs up on tables there. Well, damn.

China Village. This restaurant, attached to a run down motel, had been on my avoid list since I first saw it. It appeared, however, to be only place open in all of Bailey. No, there’s not much to Bailey, but even so.

Really good. I had salt and pepper shrimp on a bed of cabbage with red and green peppers, onions. Wonderful. A bit basic on the service side. Paper plate. Wooden chopsticks replace other diners plastic fork. A plastic tumbler for water. The tea was fine and plentiful.

All squeeky clean

As I paid, $20 with tip, a deal these days, Award Winning Pet Grooming called. Kep was done. Got over there in about three minutes. Kep jumped up on me. He’s always relieved when I pick him up. Thinks he’s been left for good.

He’s now on an 8 week grooming schedule. We’ll see. Amanda thought that should solve my dog hair problem. I decided I couldn’t take anymore tufts of dog hair. If 8 doesn’t do it, we’ll try six. We went home.

Footnote: I did have some energy left, but I felt like I’d earned a rest. Which means. Now that I have more energy I have to recalibrate, decide what to do with this new superpower. A happy problem. I remember happy problems, just haven’t had too many in the last few years.

 

General

March 21

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Spring and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Better energy. The Ancient Brothers. Kep. The Grandma wall. Loading the last, for now, donations to Mountain Resource Center and/or Goodwill. A dull gray day. Uncommon. Snow. Light. Flash bulb memories. Sabertoothed Tigers. Skulls. Dancing Bears. The Grateful Dead. Music. Mozart. Ives. Faure. Bach. The Beatles. The Band. Neal Crosby. Bob Dylan. Jefferson Airplane.

 

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Surrealistic Pillow

 

 

Third day of exile from my blog. Little dot keeps going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Usually solves itself, but not this time. So with extreme reluctance borne of many calls to technical assistance I broke down and called my webhost, Ionos. No joy. They haven’t called me back. Maybe they’re down? Frustrating.

I’ll be back when I can. It does like Ionos has had some problems. The whole server farm industry and its business model remains opaque to me. Yet this blog, the most consistent thing I’ve done over the last 17 years can’t be seen without it. I don’t know where on the planet they are, who runs Ionos, why they’re having trouble. I have a regular backup for my blog but it’s saved on Ionos, too.

On with them now. It’s a glitch on their end. My website is one of some still affected by a web programming issue.

 

 

Yesterday was a weird day. I got up achy, feeling crummy. Headache, muscle aches, general yechh. Got on the call with my Ancient Brothers and my check-in echoed that. When we were done talking about flash bulb memories, I felt better. My energy level had improved.

Still fatigued, but I could get stuff done. Loaded Ruby with the last of the donations from pruning mine and Kate’s things. Probably will be more, but that will require another pass that sits in priority well behind the kitchen, the loft, hanging art, even the outdoors.

With spring will come cleaning out the garage. Oddly, I was well underway with this task when Kate got sicker. It fell away from my attention. Over 3 years ago. It’s going back on the board. Power wash. Seal the concrete. Get rid of the old freezer. Eliminate clutter. Organize tools. That sorta thing. Look forward to it.

Energy level seems still improved. I hope this also clears up some of the brain fog I’ve been experiencing. The low stamina included intellectual work. I couldn’t read or think about one thing very long before I tired out. Didn’t like that. It can be an effect of hypothyroidism.

 

Got started with Ada Palmer’s Too Like Lightning. Amazing world building. She’s a professor at the University of Chicago which means very brainy. It shows. Her area is medieval and renaissance literature.

 

Feel oddly disconnected when I can’t post. Like there’s a core element of writing missing. You. I hope they hurry up and get this fixed. I only know a handful of my readers and I’ve communicated with them. But perhaps you I didn’t know read my blog. I hope you keep at it even after this caesura.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

General

March 20

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Spring and the Moon of Seoah’s Citizenship

Sunday gratefuls: Fatigue. New meds. Being alive. Feeling crummy. Kate, always. Spring. Yes. Rosh Chodesh. Men’s group at CBE. Sleep, good sleep. Those two or three hours of discomfort each afternoon. Psychological discomfort. Kep. Award Winning Pet Grooming. Marina Harris and her team. Cleaning the loft. Rich Levine. Alan Rubin.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blue Colorado Sky

 

Ooof. Something’s off. So hard to tell what. Levothryoxine? New statin dose? Erleada acting up? Don’t think I’m sick. Got past that. Weaker yet. A bit woozy. Don’t feel rested after a good night’s sleep. I mean, dude! WTF? If this lasts into the week, I’m gonna see Kristine again. I see Eigner (oncologist) on April 4th. Will be part of the discussion.

Tough to get stuff done. Tough to not get stuff done. Gosh, gee whillikers. Feeling like a bit of a mess right now. Don’t like it. Kate struggled a lot with the meds and therapies supposed to heal her or at least give her comfort. Getting a better idea of what she experienced.

 

 

Enough of that. Now onto the good news. It’s the Spring Equinox. Ostara. Easter bunnies. Dying and rising gods. Day and night on a roughly equal footing. Light beginning to stay with us longer. I’m usually reluctant to see Winter go. Not this year. Give me warmer weather, some flowers. Let me dance a jig on my back deck. (right now has a mound of snow about three feet high so it will be a while.) Migratory Birds. Fawns. Elk Calves. Kits. Moose Calves. Bear Cubs. Babies of all kinds. Life shows up in all its wonder.

Sure, a fallow season. Cold. Snow. Food in short supply. Beautiful. Yes. Necessary. Yes. But warmth and green Grass, flowing streams, Trees leafed out. Good, too.

I forgot to mention chocolate. Bunnies with their sweet little ears missing. Marshmallow chicks. Candy eggs. Hunting for eggs.

Easter. Passover. Pesach. Liberation. Defeating slavery. Defeating death. That’s all good stuff. This year? I’m leaning in to overuse this overused but helpful phrase.

I need a dash of resurrection, a soupçon of parting Red Sea. Give me that Moses’ staff. Roll away the stone in front of my energy. Let me race across the bottom of the Sea. I wanna see it fold in over Pharaoh’s soldiers. Even that was a Cecil B. DeMille’s thing.

The fertility of the Rabbit. The goddess Ostara mentioned in the venerable Bede’s The Reckoning of Time. General rollicking good fun along with all the serious death defeating and liberating going on.

Oh, boy do I need that energy. Big time. I image I’m not alone. It’s been a long Covid. Which, I think, made Winter even tougher for us temperate zone folks. For me it’s been a year filled with death and scrabbling to get hold of my own illness and its sometimes-ornery treatments. Then the hypothyroidism. I needed that. Though. If levothyroxine can return my energy level, then I’m glad we found it.

 

I’ll let you in on something occult. I always feel better after I right this. One of the reasons, I imagine, that I’ve stayed at it for over 17 years! Feel better now. Breakfast. Then, the Ancient Brothers consider Flashbulb memories.

Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Mussar, Shadow Mountain, Weather +Climate

O2. Feeling a little down

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Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Friday gratefuls: Snow. About 18 inches or so. Steel gray Sky over a whitened Black Mountain. Kep slogging through the Snow. Loving it. O2 saturation low yesterday. ?. The life of the mind. The life of the body. Life. Kate, always Kate. David Sanders. Jon. Lungs. Air. Altitude. Vince.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Vince, a genuinely good guy

 

First loft snow day ever yesterday. I just didn’t climb the stairs. Too much snow. Spring. Not sure why but my 02 saturation went down into the 70’s and low 80’s for much of the day yesterday. If that continues, I’ll have to go see Kristine and/or a pulmonologist. I can handle it because I have three stand alone oxygen concentrators and one portable one from Kate’s o2 needs, but geez. Like to know why.

Took my first levothyroxine this morning. Fussy drug. You have to take it thirty minutes to an hour before food and other drugs. It needs an empty stomach for adequate absorption. Not a problem for me since I can take it when I get up, feed Kep, come here to write Ancientrails, then go back down for breakfast and my morning meds. Well, a little problem. No coffee for an hour either. But, I’m a big boy. In a couple of months my energy level should improve.

 

Jon has a show opening at DAVA today. Not sure who the other artists are. Evenings out, with all the snow, are no longer my thing, so I’ll see it later. He’s printing a lot these days. Glad to see.

 

Had to put on my O2 early in the day yesterday. Not usual. Had it on during my session with David. Too loud. Took it off. Oxygen concentrators and bad hearing don’t go well together. Always a bit of a shock for folks to see with me the O2.

 

Mussar yesterday on lashon hara, the evil tongue. In all cases but this one-so far-I have found the character traits of mussar congenial to my own understanding of what a good person would do. This one seems convoluted and over the top to me. Held to rigorously it would prevent telling a friend how your kids are doing. Even if they ask. The idea is to prevent gossip. Thought through it also would halt most of the news and, even a lot of this blog.

In my own view, kavanah, or intention is the more critical idea. Yes, when gossiping is about tearing someone else down. No, when it’s lifting them up. Yes, when the reporting is necessary to call attention to corruption, malfeasance, bad acting. Judaism places a great deal of emphasis on clean speech and I honor that. Lashon hara stretches the idea to far for me.

I may need further understanding since some of what I just read seems to agree with me. It may be that Rabbi Jamie’s take is to one extreme.

 

Felt strange. Not good. Not coming up here yesterday. I put on my Sorel’s and clumped up here today. The lights were still on on the railing. This is a gift from Kate. She wove the lights around the banister and set the timing. Quite a while ago.

 

Feeling a little down today. Don’t like the O2 saturation from yesterday. Seems ok today. Don’t like feeling tired, weak. A bit sad about being alone. Missing Kate. And Rigel. This is mood, not melancholy. It will pass.

 

 

 

 

Astrology, Cooking, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Health, Memories, Our Land and Home, Shadow Mountain, Tarot

Learning Curve Trending Down

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Imbolc and the Seoah Citizenship Moon

Monday gratefuls: Kep. My phone, which reminds me when 6 am is now. Darkness again. Sadness. Ukraine. Russia. War. Peace. That Dragonfly lamp. The slowness of things just now. The Ancient Brothers. And their still more ancient fathers and grandfathers. Including the con man, the Irishmen, the one in green flannel underwear.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Finding the stock pot and the mixing bowls

 

Ah, the simple joys of kitchen remodeling. I put the stockpot up over the refrigerator, but when I first looked I saw only the second shelf akimbo. It was too heavy for me to lift into place. Can’t be there. Left hand cabinet door. Later, when I decided to look everywhere, I opened the right door and there was one of my favorite kitchen tools on a bias at the other end of the slanted shelf. Really? I did that? Yep.

And the mixing bowls. Determined I went through everything again. Then, there they were. Again, right where I’d put them behind the Pyrex measuring bowls, sort of hidden. Whew. Not crazy.

Bouncing between final moves on the furniture rearrangement and the kitchen reassemble. Both take time and energy. The end results I love. But still more slogging to go. A ways to go before I finish. At this pace? Maybe a month.

I took a big check over to Jodi at Blue Mountain Kitchens on Friday. Bowe still has to come out and finish a few things. Minor. Convince one drawer to glide easily. Some staining. A filler piece between the dishwasher and the sink.

Nausea has begun to get in the way, too. Damn. That’s no fun at all. This Erleada may be important, but it’s not very friendly. Hot flashes seem to have disappeared. Bowels a bit happier. Fatigue, stamina, and my tummy-not so much.

Wrote a piece about astrology for the final class tomorrow. I’ll append it here*. Feels like a fail for me. Might be, might not.

One similar tale. Long ago. Logic, my freshmen year at Wabash. I had done fine in Philosophy 101, all my other classes, too, except German. Which I dropped. Second semester I took Logic from Professor Larry Hackestaff, notable for wandering the green with a six pack of Bud dangling from his side, his belt run through an empty plastic ring. The beer looked like a large set janitor’s keys. Perhaps to the unconscious?

It wasn’t happening for me. I listened to his lectures. I studied hard. I flunked an early test. Oh, god. Was this going to be my first grade below a B ever? And maybe an F? How could this be? Couldn’t imagine. Shame. Fear. Anxiety. None of which helped me of course. It was around this time I got diagnosed with a spastic colon, now irritable bowel, I think.

And then. One morning in the library, in my favorite carrel, I pushed one more time and the world of logic opened up to me, blossomed. The law of excluded middle. Yes. Proofs. Yes. It was fun. A puzzle. Riddles within riddles. Aced the midterm and the final. Felt like I’d strapped myself to the mast like Odysseus, escaping the Sirens of doubt.

Maybe someday I’ll have a similar experience with astrology. Not now. Not sure when I’ll go back to it. Maybe soon, maybe never.

It’s weird because the Tarot has become a daily part of my spiritual practice. I thought astrology would, too. Apparently not.

Breakfast now. Then over to see Dr. Gonzalez, see if we can figure out the fatigue-stamina-nausea trio. Does make me feel a bit fragile. A feeling I don’t like.

 

 

*Astrology and me

A learning curve difficult to surmount. Not sure why. Usually. Fast into the wheelhouse of an idea. This subject. Not so much.

Part of it no doubt is my bedrock empiricism which can swing close to scientism, something I despise. Part of it is a lifetime of seeing the astrology columns in newspapers and reading them for amusement or entertainment. Part of it is a strong existentialism which finds it hard to give outside influence impact over my life. Part of it is the how. How can this be? How can this work? Maybe it’s the wrong moment in my life.

These classes have helped me. I now have a better grasp of the elements of astrology, still unable to put them together with any ease. Not even sure how I can advance. Perhaps I need to go back to work with Elisa on my chart. Learn it. Get it down.

Got to admit this troubles me. A strong part of me relies on intellect. Another strong part of me relies on the heart. At my current age I’d say they are in balance. When my intellect finds it hard to crack the code of a subject, I feel hesitant, reluctant to dig deeper. I had the same issue with languages. Just. Real. Hard.

I wish I had a better way of describing my journey. Yes, I’m intrigued that my chart seems to get some parts of me right. Yes, I’m intrigued by the idea of transits inflecting our lives as the planets move. But moving past intrigue into using astrology as a tool for my own journey? Still not there, after two private readings and two wonderful classes.

Leaving this path with way more questions than answers.

But, as Douglas Adams said, Thanks for all the fish.