Beltane and the Greenhouse Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: The Morning Service. Our God, life of all the worlds who makes firm a person’s step. Jamie. Tara. Natalie. Caroline. Shadow. The Greenhouse. Nathan. Alan in Las Vegas. Rich in P.R. MVP next week. Morning darkness, then dawn. Then Great Sol in a blue Colorado Sky. Yet more Rain. Spine Ranch Fusion. Tandoori Chicken. Gulab Jamun. CuTO salad and Garlic naan.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: A Clear Day

Week Kavannah: Wholeness and Peacefulness. Shleimut. Integrating pain into my daily life.

One brief shining: Natalie, skilled and kind dog trainer, goes on youtube to find out how to do her own brakework, when she has engine trouble; she also mentioned cutting a notch in my dying tree so it could fall over on its own, and knows the work of Minnesotan David Mech on wolves.

Dog journal: If you live in a bookish world, surrounded by bookish people, it’s easy to forget or ignore other intelligences. Like BJ, Pamela, and Sarah who used string instruments to reveal theirs. Or. Natalie’s treat bag, her experience with many dogs. Or Nathan’s carpentry and his aesthetic sense. Or Caroline’s empathy.

I’m so grateful to have found others with intelligences that complement my journey, make it richer, easier, more full. Transactional relationships at first, yes, all. During and after, at least more than casual acquaintances. Shared worlds. Recognition of the other’s value.

Shadow and I continue to hug. She zooms and smiles outside, a happy young puppy. Natalie has changed our life together from one of cautious wariness to companionship. Natalie also got a leash on her and walked with her yesterday.

The next unsolved problem? Thresholds. So she’ll come inside and let me close the door. Preferable when it’s cold.

Cancer: Had my first therapy session with Caroline Merz, a Princeton and Washington University (her Ph.D.) trained psychologist. She specializes in geriatrics and cancer.

This was our first session and it was a listening session for her as she heard my “unique life story and how aging and illness have affected me.”

It surprised me, but I felt teary almost the whole way through. At a couple of points I did cry and later I cried (after the session was over) about Rigel, now long dead. Chewy, the pet food folks, sent me a rock with a rainbow and Rigel’s name on it.

I’m alone but not lonely. Yes, true. I’m neither afraid of cancer or death. True. However, since Kate’s death and in spite of my friends and family, I carry the psychic burden of responding to loss and pain and disease mostly alone. I can and do carry it.

There is, however, a price. Hard to describe. A sort of Atlas thing where it rests on my shoulders, bearing down, not pushing me to the ground, not making me depressed, but always there, a weighty presence.

The tears are about this, I know. A response to even the momentary sharing of the burden. Oh, it lifts. The relief wells up and expresses itself through release.

Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari