Not happening has become something that happened

Fall and the Samain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Darkness. Quiet. Rain. Snow coming. Cool nights. Rich Levine. Ron. Alan. Joan. Tom and Diane. Israel. Gaza. Palestinians. Settlers. War. Peace. Turkey. Erdogan. Anti-semitism. Pro-Palestinians. I’m pro-Palestinian, but anti-Hamas. Political failure has drastic consequences. Netanyahu. Israel’s protest movement. Aid to Gaza. Feeling the walls of world opinion closing in. An olive tray. Biet She’an. The Decapolis. Dinner tonight of those of us who didn’t go to Israel. An oddly bonding experience.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Internet

One brief shining: That glass tray with curved dividers will have olives in it tonight at Mark Lehrner’s place: kalamata, castelvetrano, nicoise, olives stuffed with garlic, olives stuffed with blue cheese and represents my passing on making Middle Eastern food, yet also wanting to contribute to this consolation prize dinner where my fellow non-travelers will share research we have done on sites of interest in Israel.

 

Here’s how it goes for me. 19 days after Hamas viciously murdered women, men, and the elderly, children, beheading babies. I would have left for Jerusalem today. Would have had 5 days to roam around this ancient city, holy to so many. Eating Israeli breakfasts, crashing when I got tired. Learning from the wonderful museums and the living history of the Arab quarter, the souk, the old city, the Western Wall. Al Aqsa. By talking to folks of diverse backgrounds and points of view. Then on Samain, the Celtic New Year, I would have spoken with three Reconstructionist rabbi’s, had my penis pricked for one drop of blood, gotten naked and immersed in a mikveh, and spent the rest of the tour in my first days as a converted Jew. No. Not gonna happen.

Insignificant in the larger picture? Of course. Very significant among my fellow travelers and especially so for Veronica and me who planned to become Jews in Jerusalem. Hard to find the right words, but I feel like something important, something life altering has happened. Because all these things did not happen though I had intended them to. Paradox.

My conversion will always be the one that didn’t happen in Jerusalem. Because the whole world of Judaism got sucked into this desperate and ill-understood conflict. Again. Still. And I got sucked into it, too. Willingly. That was the point after all, to say yes, these are my people. I cast my lot with them for now and always.

The not happening has become something that happened. That changed me by immersing me not in the mikveh but in a dark and troubled sea. Which perhaps because of my nature has only made me feel more certain of my choice, more bonded to CBE and worldwide Jewry. These, my people, are in trouble. This is when we stand up and declare who we are.

I am a Jew. Not ritually, not yet, but I am already a Jew. One caught in the vice of ancient blood feuds and unable to see a clear path out of them. Yet I see this clearly: we will figure the way out together.

Starlink, Internet Bright

Fall and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: My back. Its complaints. Mary’s solutions for managing them. First thing in the morning after the Shema. The beauty of fall transitioning to winter. The skeletal Aspens. The yellow leaved Willows and the red barked Dogwood. The Asters blooming in my back yard. Kurt Bohne. Starlink. Shadow Mountain Home2. Download: 105. Upload: 20. Elon Musk. Shadow Mountain. The drive into Evergreen. The Mountains and Valleys along the way. CBE. Israel at an inflection point.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: really fast internet

One brief shining: Kurt and Shawn put a ladder against the gutter, carried a Little Giant ladder up the roof and got to work first installing the mount, then the Starlink rectangular antenna on the mount, running Starlink’s cable down the side of the house and into the router and connecting the ethernet ports, while with my phone I created a new router address, plugged in a password, and after that things were just fast, fast, fast.

 

I know. I know. Supporting Elon Musk. Yes, he’s a reprehensible person politically, but boy does he engineer good products. The Tesla. The Boring Company. SpaceX. And, my only personal connection to his empire since I don’t use the X formerly known as Twitter, Starlink. For years I’ve had ok service from Century Link, using two DSL lines to get around 40 mbps. The price difference between the two services is $14 a month. Worth it for 80-100 mbps. Also, when the phone system goes down in a storm my internet will not. Happy to be with them. Kurt and Shawn who installed it for me were great guys. Would use them again if another need arises.

 

Laid in logs and firestarting materials after adding the rest of my firewood to the stack next to the fireplace. If we get snow over the weekend, I’ll be in my chair reading about Jewish life cycle events or the new Jessamyn Ward book, watching the fire. Gotten used to burning pine. Would really like to get some oak or maple though. It’s available down the hill where they have a variety of deciduous trees, but I’ve never sought it out. Maybe this year.

 

Israel. Hoping Thomas Friedman’s words, Biden’s, Blinken’s, Austin’s convince the Israelis to slow roll, if not eliminate a ground invasion of Gaza. And that Israel can show its humane side to the world, not just its bristly, never again ferocity.

The court of public opinion has turned against Israel. My sister Mary says there are pro-Palestinian rallies in Muslim Malaysia where she now lives. There is, too, sentiment that the U.S. has it right in the Ukraine, opposing Russia, and wrong in Israel, supporting the oppressor. The situation in Israel is so much more complicated than that. Neither side covers themself in glory. A solution has long been stiff armed by both Arabs and Israelis.

I would have left tomorrow for Israel.

 

Seoah and Murdoch celebrated my boy’s 42nd birthday last night. Party hats, cake. Murdoch sat on the bench at the table. Very cute.

 

Love mercy, do justice and walk humbly

Fall and the Samain Moon

Monday gratefuls: My son and his 42nd birthday. What a delight he was, is. A golfer, a scholar, a warrior,  a husband, a canine companion, a kind and honest man. Korea. Israel. Hamas. Palestinians. Gaza. West Bank. Hezbollah. Iran. Carrier strike groups. The rules of war. Love mercy, do justice, walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8. Gabe. And the donkey he met. Jen and Barb. Ruth. A family. Shadow Mountain fireplace. Shadow Mountain beneath me. The blue Sky above me. Lodgepoles and Aspens beside me.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son’s new left-handed putter

One brief shining: Gabe came back from his walk, I met a donkey, oh, yes and here’s a picture he showed me his phone in the now familiar gesture of one sharing records of their life and there was his hand on a donkey’s long nose, brown and white, eyes looking happy to be greeted by my grandson, a lover of all animals. Except mice. Because they squeak.

 

I want to say clearly. Hamas-no! Murder and hostage taking of civilians-no! Israel defending itself-yes! America helping Israel-yes. Israel killing Palestinians not part of Hamas-no! Israel eliminating Hamas-yes! While always watching out and caring for Palestinian civilians.

If Hezbollah and/or Iran come into the war-no! Then America helping Israel-yes! World War III-no! Second coming-no! Armageddon-no!

 

When I wrote the word Armageddon just now, the Rapture Index popped into my head. Think the nuclear clock of the Union of Concerned Scientists only run by a strange and lonely guy from the Pentecostal Church down the street. The rapture index today is 185. On the handy scale of the website-which goes from 100 and below for slow prophetic activity to 160 and above, Hang onto your seat belts!-you can see our friends in the woo-woo wing of Christianity are getting excited.

Checked the nuclear clock, too. Set in January of 2023 at 90 seconds to midnight (nuclear apocalypse) it references the Ukraine war as the most troubling matter then. Now two U.S. carrier strike groups: The Ford and the Eisenhower have positioned themselves in the Middle East near Iran and Israel while the war in Ukraine continues. I’d push the hands of that clock forward, wouldn’t you?

Since the secular and the nutty eschatologists line up, it might be time to reconsider that bomb shelter. Or, heading over to Survivalistboards.com.

A troubled world with weapons too powerful for humans to have. God help us all.

 

All of this seems so remote from my spot here on Shadow Mountain. Down the hill stuff, not issues for us who live with the Bears and the Elk and the Mountain Lions. Sadly it is not so. My contribution these days perhaps lies in these words I spit out every morning. Helping myself understand what I understand, what I can understand and what I can’t. Hopefully leading at least a handful of others to try to understand what they understand. Then choose what actions seem available and important to them.

 

 

 

Samain

Fall and the Samain Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Gabe. Fiske Planetarium. Moons of the solar system. Jupiter-85. Saturn-over 185. Io. Demos. Phobos. Luna. Titan. A Halloween Laser Show. Which included the hit single from my high school days: The Monster Mash. Spending time with the Gabester. That Hogwarts lego set he’s got his eye on. Boulder. 25 square miles surrounded by reality. My kinda place. Illegal Burger. Israel. Keshet. Gaza. Civilians on both sides. War. The rules of war. Blood lust and longlasting mistakes. Diplomats. Massless demons. (no, really. look’em up) Happy Halloween. A weak version of Samain

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids

One brief shining: Lying back in the recliner chairs of the Fiske Planetarium Gabe and I listened as the student astronomer worked the audience filled with young kids, some in costumes some not, and then introduced Mars by asking does anyone know why Mars is red and an adult said iron, she said right, has any one ever seen a rusty nail, a small young voice piped up in eager response, “I have!”

 

 

 

We’re nearing Samain, the start of the Celtic New Year. Halloween as you may know gets its background nature from Samain. A time considered by the Celts to have a thinned veil between this world and the other world. So ghosts and faeries and goblins and all such creatures could cross from the Other World and enter this one. Humans, too, could cross over into the Other World but had to be careful of being trapped in Faery. Very similar in concept to the Day of the Dead. If you haven’t seen the Disney movie Coco, this is a great time to watch it.

On the Great Wheel Samain is the last of the three harvest festivals. The first one, Lughnasa, begins on August 1st and celebrates the first harvest. The first fruits of the growing season. The second, Mabon, falls on the autumnal equinox and celebrates the main harvest when the bounty of the growing season comes in insuring food for another year. Samain, which means, Summer’s End, marks the end of the growing season and the start of the long fallow time when the food from Mabon has to last until well into Spring.

To some it may seem odd to have the New Year begin at the start of the fallow time, but it makes sense to me. The fallow time allows time for rest, for leisure for hardworking subsistence farmers. A time when they could consider their lives, at least for a bit, enjoy their families. The Celtic Faery Faith, the great work by Walter Evans-Wentz, featured his recounting of the stories he heard around peat fires in the evenings in Ireland. During the fallow time. As you may know, Evans-Wentz went on to gain fame as the first translator of the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Though I’m almost a Jew by conversion, I retain my Great Wheel sensibilities. I’ve always said that it is an ur-faith, one that can be held by all while following more traditional religious paths, too. The earth is our common mother, one each of us needs to honor and cherish and have faith in.

 

Others

Fall and the Samain Moon

Saturday gratefuls: Lutheran Spine Center. Mary. Melody. Tara. RSV vaccine. Safeway. Israel. BA cancellation. Keshet. Conversion. Mikveh. Embracing the darkness as we move toward the Winter Solstice. Samain. The fallow time. Business mornings. Tuesdays. P.T. exercises. Workouts. Keeping up with it. My novels. The new one aborning. Kep, my sweet boy. Kate, always Kate. Seven Stones. Gabe. Ruth. Friendsgiving. Thanksgiving. Relationships. Family. My boy, Seoah, Murdoch. Friends. Deciding what comes next.

Sparks  of Joy and Awe: Joann

One brief shining: Once again confirming my medications, giving my date of birth, looking at my oxygenation, my blood pressure all fine as I prepare to meet yet another doctor, this time Melody, a p.a. physiatrist, who has me bend side to side and forward, who takes both of my legs and twists them this way and that, any pain, stops and says you have every reason to be hopeful as she left the room when we were done.

 

Yes, my Korea experience still has me on the road for visits to physical therapy and then Lutheran Spine Center yesterday. Melody confirmed my conjecture that my recent neglect of resistance work probably led to my flare. Why did I do that? Not depressed. My best guess is. Got tired of it. Self care takes time. The older I get the more time it takes. Wanted to save a little time by not doing the resistance. Bad choice. Melody also made me feel good because she expressed surprise that I’d held off this back trouble for so long. Definitely your working out. And, she said, if you keep up your exercises you have every reason…

I know these things to be true. I know. But. There’s a certain weariness that comes with repeating the same things over and over. Get on the treadmill. Do the squats. The chest presses. The lawnmowers. The dips. The bicep curls and the shoulder presses. The skullcrushers. Those core exercises. Now adding in physical therapy exercises for my back specifically. Guess I need an attitude adjustment. Working out keeps me able to do the things I want to do. Like travel. Go see friends and family. Take care of myself while living alone. Pretty important stuff.

New attitude. Take the time. It’s worth it.

Similar note. Got my RSV vaccine yesterday at Safeway. Still seems weird to me to go the grocery store for anything medical. Yet there you are. Some kerfuffle with my birthdate and my medicare card made me wait longer. Then a quick jab, a bandaid, thank you. Noticed while I was there that Safeway has renamed their aisles using local street names: Barkley Road and Shadow Mountain Drive, for instance.

 

At breakfast with Tara yesterday I had an aha. At this point in my life relationships are what matter. Not even writing that new novel or finishing Jennie’s Dead. Not even traveling unless it includes building or deepening relationships. Hmm. That one may not be right. I still like to travel alone. Not even striking another blow for justice. I spend more time now having breakfast and lunch with friends, seeing Gabe and Ruth, my son and Seoah, than I do on anything other than taking care of myself. And it never gets old or repetitious. No, I’m not converting to extroversion. I still don’t like crowds or parties or too many people around. But one on one or with two or three others? Yes. That’s where the juice is in my life now.

 

 

Conversion on again

Fall and the Samain Moon

Friday gratefuls: BA canceled my flight. So, I can get a refund. Parking refunded. Tour group money held over for a trip next year. All resolved for now. With some money coming. Conversion. At Temple Emmanuel mikveh. Last week of November. Mussar. Evergreen Market. Sugar Jones. Rabbi Jamie. Zionism. Very good workout. 2 sets of resistance. Luke. Anne. Darkness my old friend. Sounds of Silence. The 60’s. Jackie. Her and Ronda’s sweetness. Her sauna. Growing my beard out.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ritual purity

One brief shining: Ruth called yesterday wanting to know if she and her friends could have a Friendsgiving at my house, of course I said, and checked in with her about an evening out at Dazzle, the jazz club, next Saturday works for her so so good to talk with her, hear Mia on the phone saying hi Grandpa, and her other friends saying hi. Made this old man happy.

 

I’ve taken Mia in as a granddaughter from another family. She was so helpful and kind when I had to euthanize Kep, helping the vet carry him up the stairs, staying with Ruth while Kep died. Mia grew up on Oahu, moving here when her father’s biochemical company needed better access to the U.S. as a whole. She even said she missed me. Aw.

 

Yesterday was busy. Diane in the morning. Then an intense and good workout. Going up on weights on some exercises. Back exercises added in. After that a shower and over to Jackie’s Aspen Roots hair salon. Was gonna be a sprucing up before my trip. Both Jackie and Ronda were glad I’m not going to Israel. I’ve never had so many people happy about a trip I’m not taking. As I left Jackie turned to Ronda and said, we’re going to have to start looking for someone for Charlie. Uh-oh.

 

From Jackie’s straight to CBE for Thursday mussar and my second conversion education session with Rabbi Jamie. In both the mussar setting and my session with him after the focus was Israel/Hamas. The topic for our session had been Zionism which can be seen as the proximate cause of the struggle Israel and its Arab neighbors have faced since its founding.  That is, it was the Zionist movement of the late 19th century which set off the chain of events creating a Jewish state in 1948. Immediately after Israeli nationhood Egypt, Syria, and Jordan attacked it with the stated goal of pushing the Jews into the ocean. The Arabs lost the war. But the conflicts signaled in that first military action may have changed actors from time to time, but not the goal of eliminating a Jewish presence in the Middle East.

 

When we moved onto my conversion, I said I wanted to get it done as soon as practicable. A little cold for going to a flowing stream or lake for a naked plunge. Though I would have been up for that. We settled on a newer mikveh, a ritual bath that has to be connected to flowing water, built by Temple Emmanuel, a large Reform congregation in south Denver.

Discovered that Joann Greenberg had asked to be a community representative in my beit din, house of judgement, or rabbinic court. That surprised and pleased me. I have about a half hour interview with her, Rabbi Jamie, and a third Rabbi yet to be named who will also be the one who draws a spot of blood from my penis. Then, naked immersion in the mikveh. And I’m part of the Jewish community for ever and a day.

Rabbi Jamie also asked me which parsha I wanted for my conversion week. A parsha is the long weekly section of Torah that allows the entire five books of Moses to be read through in a year. At first I thought, wha? Then I got it. I want the parsha with Jacob at the Jabbok Ford wrestling an angel. That story I consider paradigmatic of my own spiritual journey. If you know the story, Jacob’s name changes that night to Israel, one who struggles with God. That story shows up this year in late November which is why the conversion will be then.

 

Mountain Life

Fall and the Samain Moon

Thursday gratefuls: A cool night. Good sleeping. Marilyn and Irv. Good friends. Learning. Israel. British Airways. American Airlines. Travel. Spinal stenosis. Mary and her good work with me. Ruby and her steadfastness. Her cracked and cracking windshield. Stinkers. Safeway. Aspen Perks. Tara tomorrow. Kate. My sweetheart. Ruth and Gabe. Judaism. My inner world. Yours.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Inner life

One brief shining: One night I meditated as I first got into bed letting thoughts come and go not holding on to them got to a state of calm, no ideas flowing and I could feel my brain reaching out with black tendrils wanting to find any stray nugget, an image, a word, a slice of an idea to wrap onto, react to, absorb and use.

 

I find the big news today the dog that didn’t bite. Israel has not yet launched its ground assault on Gaza. Thomas Friedman suggested yesterday that the best thing Israel could do right now is to not invade. It would show a humanitarian approach to the war in stark contrast to the murderous rampage that began with the Hamas incursion. Could still happen of course but remember Israel gave a 24 hour notice to Gaza north a couple of days ago.

 

The Israel/Hamas war has so captured me that I’ve not followed our orange Julius’ various trials. Suppose he’s still in trouble. At least I hope so. Although the more indictments and gag orders he gets, the better his poll numbers in the GOP race. Has to be one of the more puzzling and frankly disconcerting pieces of political news in my lifetime. The more criminality revealed the more supporters he gets!

Not to mention of course the specter of Jim Jordan as Speaker of the House. And the brave odd group of Republicans in his way. We’re a nation without a capacity to govern, hemmed in by a Supreme Court wedded to a strange mode of interpreting the Constitution, while preparing for a presidential race next year that could feature old white men. Again. How we got to this point will be a subject of monographs, monologues, books, movies, and cartoons for years to come.

 

Had breakfast with Marilyn and Irv yesterday. At Primo’s, a cafe just down the hill from them in King’s Valley. Talked about travel. Marilyn’s indefatigable. She’s been to Berliz, Scotland, Arizona, and New York City just this year. She gave some tips about getting my money back from British Airways. Gonna give it the old college try. If not, I’ll travel in the spring to Israel on my own. Using Keshet as my private tour agency.

Today is busy. Diane. Workout. Haircut. Mussar. Rabbi Jamie on Zionism. A session for my conversion. We’ll discuss what to do now that Israel’s not going to happen. Tomorrow, too. Tara breakfast. RSV vaccine. Lutheran Spine Center. CBE kabbalat shabbat, welcoming the sabbath. Part of my own commitment to the conversion process is regular attendance at Friday evening services.

 

 

Seven Stones

Fall and the Samain Moon

Wednesday gratefuls: Stones. Unveiling. That metal red heart. Judy. Rabbi Jamie. Mussar. Seven Stones. Remembering. Anne. Tara. Barbara. Marilyn. Susan. Mary. Keshet. British Airways. Israel. Back pain. Nerve glides. Core exercises. Naps. Brook Forest Black Fox. Killed. Israel. Biden. Hamas. Hezbollah. Travel. Conversion. Judaism. My people. War. Peace. Kate, always Kate

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Unveiling

One brief shining: Rabbi Jamie and I walked along cobblestone paths, past sculpture, past memorials carved in stone, past a columbarium, past a small pond and large green lawn which had a hill and gravestones, to the metal red heart of the pet cemetery where I had placed ashes of 15 of Kate and mine’s canine friends: Celt, Sorsha, Morgana, Scot, Tira, Tully, Buck, Iris, Hilo, Kona, Emma, Tor, Orion, Gertie, and Vega.

 

Up and out at 7:30 am yesterday for an 8:10 appointment with Mary, my physical therapist at Bergen Park P.T. in Evergreen. Mary is a keeper. She’s smart, kind, knowledgeable, encouraging. And Korean. She’s got me setup for handling my back issues over time, including during more travel. P.T. exercises like nerve glides (opening space in the spine) and core muscle work for times when things begin to flare. Strength training overall for better stability. Mary also wrote a summary of her work and findings that I can take to the physiatrist when I visit Lutheran Spine Center on Friday.

 

Later in the day I drove to Chatfield and Seven Stones cemetery. Judy Sherman’s unveiling. You may recall Judy was my friend who died last year, choosing death with dignity after five years of ovarian cancer. In the Jewish tradition a gravemarker unveiling occurs at least 11 months after a death. As Rabbi Jamie explained it, the reason for the tradition is a belief that the soul of the deceased stays around for a year to be sure their loved ones are all right. After the unveiling (a canvas covering was over Judy’s gravemarker), the soul can leave this realm. In certain Jewish traditions it is believed the soul returns to the Garden of Eden.

Whatever the metaphysics the unveiling offers a time a year after a death to gather, to memorialize. Similar to the yahrzeit which acknowledges the date of death according to the Jewish lunar calendar.

We also placed stones at Judy’s marker. This tradition, which I asked Rabbi Jamie about as I placed a stone at the red heart in the pet cemetery, participates in the burial. It comes from the necessity in ancient times of placing rocks on a grave to prevent depredation by wildlife. It also marks a visit.

Judy underwent aquamation. Water cremation. The water from her cremation feeds a pine tree growing next to her marker. The marker itself was communal and had room for 12 names.

Seven Stones is a beautiful and thoughtful cemetery. There are spots for aquamation, for scattering ashes, a columbarium, a place for caskets, several places for memorial stones. The cemetery has modern sculpture throughout, cobblestone paths, and lots of trees. Made me want to have a memorial, something I’ve not considered before. Maybe something for Kate and me. Since the dogs are there already.

 

Life remains

Fall and the Samain Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Israel. Hamas. Hezbollah. U.S.A. Germany. Ukraine. Great Britain. Jordan. Lebanon. Saudi Arabia. Iran. Iraq. Kuwait. The Emirates. War. Peace. Restraint. The world in trouble. Tom. Diane. Mark. Mary. Great Sol spotlighting the Lodgepoles at the peak of Black Mountain. Mice. Fox. Mule Deer. Elk. Bears of all sorts. Mountain Lions. Maxwell Creek. Bear Creek. Cub Creek. North Turkey Creek. Starlink. Creative Audio. British Airways. Traveling. My back. Mary, my physical therapist.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Rules of War

One brief shining: Black Mountain sets its curved body against the Colorado blue Sky, accepting Great Sol as the light and warmth pour onto its Lodgepoles, it provides a way for Moose and Elk to cross from Staunton State Park to Shadow Mountain and back again without human interference.

 

And here’s another, perhaps more important truth. Life goes on while Israel masses tanks and soldiers and other instruments of war at the Gaza Strip. The Mountain Lion waits on an ailing Elk to pass under its ledge. The Marmoset skitters quickly back into its rocky den. A Raven lands in my front yard. The schoolbus picks up students. I get in my car and go to Evergreen, another appointment with Mary.

I learned this after Kate died. My world shaken to its core traffic went by on Black Mountain Drive. The Mule Deer wandered into the yard eating bunch grass. CBE had its services. Netflix streamed movies and TV dramas. Even the same ones Kate had watched as her time came to an end. We wink out and are gone. The same with nations. Where now is Rome? Carthage? Akkadia? Persia? The Greece of Alexander the Great? Even Yugoslavia. Czechoslovakia. The USSR. Gone.

There is a difference here though. Israel and its existence represents so much to Jews around the world. Hamas attacking it is an iteration of other attacks throughout the centuries. Attacks Jews have weathered, come out of stronger and more determined. If Israel were challenged with defeat, it would not slide easily into the dustbin of time.

Ran into Ellen Arnold after my physical therapy. We talked for a bit. Shaking our heads. No easy or obvious solutions. So little understanding of the complex history of Israel and Palestine since 1948. Nobody comes out of it with laurels. All are implicated. Jews and Arabs alike.

 

Back to my old pattern with cardio and resistance, balance work. Felt good to get past one set of resistance. Up to two. Three next week. What I need. Going to consider setting specific goals for cardio, resistance, balance. Interesting advice from a primer on how to extend healthspan suggested this improves performance and healthspan.

 

Not traveling now. In spite of British Airways refusing to refund my ticket. I could still go since so far they are flying into Tel Aviv. No group tour now so makes no sense. Doesn’t matter to BA. May have to reschedule for May if they don’t stop flying to Tel Aviv by a week from tomorrow.

 

The Abyss Stares Back

Fall and the Samain Moon

Monday gratefuls: Reimagining the Divine. Toba Spitzer. Israel. Hamas. Hezbollah. Anti-semitism. Peace in the valley. American Airlines. Canceled all flights to Tel Aviv till December 4th at the earliest. Evergreen Market. The darkness. The ohr. The mice. The Rat Zapper. A conversation about Israel at CBE yesterday. Fear. Anger. Rage. Deep sadness. Confusion. Overwhelmed. Helpless and hopeless. Why do they hate us? How can we help? Kepler. Murdoch. Rigel. Vega. Gertie. Kate, always Kate. Ruth and Gabe.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Deep emotion

One brief shining: The guy with the blue kippa and long straggly beard, Ron standing tall and sad, Marilyn in shock, Rabbie Jamie with the microphone hoping to hold the congregation together, faces and names projected on a screen-members on zoom, we gathered not trying to understand but to feel our way through this long old dark tunnel. Again.

 

This palpable fear is new to me. A friend took the microphone at CBE and talked about it. Having felt safe in Evergreen for eighteen years. Now. Fear has crept in, making those who thought maybe this time, maybe this place. But no. The world reaches out and grabs Jews by the shoulder. Hey, pay attention! This will never be over.

Why do they hate us? Why do they kill us? Will they kill me? My children? My parents? My friends?

And I know you may be tired of this long story now in its tenth day or its third millennium, I’m sorry but this is front of mind for me and my friends right now. I can’t look away. Once each generation someone said. Ron said he was twelve during the Yom Kippur war. A sign at a rally: Never Again is Now!

This is the hard part for a non-Jew to understand. The visceral, perhaps even inherited trauma of centuries of pogroms, holocausts, violent hatred. The way an attack like the Hamas made on Saturday is not an event, not a singular instance, but another one. Calling to mind the Cossacks attacking the shetls, the gunman in Pittsburgh, the ghettos in European cities, the Nazis and their latter day admirers marching in MAGA parades, the parade in Skokie, the anti-Jew and Black real estate covenants in American cities. All remembered. All resisted bravely until. The fear rises again.

Followed by or experienced with a deep sadness. For grandparents dead in the ovens. For children slaughtered in their homes. For an existence  always threatened. For a life lived like others that is unavailable.

Of course, too. Anger. Rage. The desire to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To be. Not to just be, to live,  to thrive. With agency that turns away hatred by any means necessary. Danger. Danger. Danger.

When staring into the abyss…

And, of course, the rules of war. The rules of humans in rage states. When blood lust can take over, run the show. Yes, especially then, the rules of war. Especially then. Do not let the monster we fear become who we are. All so, so hard. All so complex. All so, well, human.