Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil
Friday gratefuls: Joe coming. Seoah sending me pictures of Hawaiian donuts. Rigel sleeping next to me all night. The golden Aspen, a brief moment, more beautiful for that. A wabi-sabi time. Max, out of the womb, out of the hospital. Home. Rabbi Jamie. Rebecca’s baked oatmeal. Orgovyx. Alan.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: The new (to me) trail
Tarot: Ace of Wands
Agency. I feel strong. And, sad. Satisfied with the journey. Happy some times, engaged and aware for the rest. Grief persists. As it will. Kate is still gone even though the hair triggers of mourning have passed. Sometimes I see her smiling, other times hunched over the breakfast table, working on her crosswords or playing solitaire. She was the love that comes once, if you’re lucky. I was.
The work I’ve got underway on the house might be grief. I know that. And, I’m ok with that. My process. Making this hermitage a more welcoming and livable space. Means a lot to me. Kate found this house.
In spite of my occasional misgivings I plan to stay here, take my long last ride from this spot on top of Shadow Mountain. Hopefully not for a good long while so I can soak in the lessons, the enlightenment offered.
Sometimes I say Colorado has been about cancer, death, and divorce. And, it has. Seven years of the direst consequences life has in its pantry.
However. Colorado has also been Kate and me on an adventure in the Rocky Mountains. About being surrounded by Elk, Mule Deer, Fox, Squirrels, Black Bears, Mountain Lions, Marmosets, Pine Martens. Mountain Streams and Lodgepole Pines. Aspen and sheer Rock Faces.
Kate and I on a spiritual journey through Judaism and Congregation Beth Evergreen. Kate and I being here when needed for Jon, for Ruth and Gabe. Kate sewing. Me reading, writing, painting in this wonderful loft.
It’s also been about meeting and getting to know Seoah, about going to Joe and Seoah’s wedding. Having Seoah here at critical times for both of us. For the love and the strong sense of family we’ve all created together.
The dogs we’ve loved and who love us. Also, family.
It’s also been about, very surprisingly, deepened connections with Paul, Mark, Tom, Bill. Diane. Zoom and the pandemic.
Colorado can be short hand for the gamut of matters life offers. All part of the whole. None bad. None good. All intense and vibrant. A palette of emotions, of thoughts, of shattered dreams and dreams fulfilled.
Yesterday I went to the Bread Lounge for breakfast with Alan. We got caught up over Nazarena Burritos. Didn’t like’m much. Too doughy.
Afterward, I did something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. I entered woman world again, getting a mani-pedi at Diamond Nails, just across from the Bread Lounge. Lynn, whose name, I expect, is something with more vowels, sat me in a lounge like chair, ran water in a basin, and helped me take off my shoes.
You want me cut those, too? My fingernails were a bit long. Sure. Why not? I hadn’t intended to do the manicure. But, I did. She cut my nails with clippers, ran an emery board over them, then polished them with a sandpapery like sponge, stuck each hand in a pink plastic bowl of warm water, cut my cuticles (I had to ask her what she was doing.), and finished with a creamy lather, oil, and a brief massage. Relaxing.
Basically the same routine with the feet. Couldn’t get the notion of the third sacrament, foot washing, out of my head. This older Vietnamese woman was my Jesus for the moment. Warm towels and a pumice stone later, I got up and paid.
Bending down to cut my toenails has become such a chore and I hurt myself sometimes when I do it. So I avoided it. This was a way to get that done. Hiking. Since I’ve found level trails and want to get exercise outside, as I did for so many years in Minnesota, having comfortable feet is a necessity.
A younger woman, the only other customer in the place, asked me, “What color are you gonna get?” Ha. Maybe next time. “They have a lot of purples. Or, hot pink.” Yeah. Well, no.
Afterward I went to the new trail, took a hike with newly cut and pampered toes. The Mountains. A wonder. Still, always. And the Stream. Its sound enough healing for a thousand wounds.