Lughnasa and the Korea Moon
Sunday gratefuls: Professor Luke. Leo, the old. Tuscany Tavern. Rabbi Jamie. Irv. Joe. CBE men’s group. Rain. Hard Rain. Mountains Green. Those forty plus Elk Cows eating Grass in Elk Meadow. Three young Elk Calves crossing with their Mothers. Waiting on them to cross the highway. Mountain Life. Shadow inside when I got home.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Elk of Evergreen
Year Kavannah: Wu Wei
Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.
Tarot: Knight of Vessels, the Eel
One brief shining: Rain pelted down as I drove up Shadow Mountain last night, the Air heavy and cool, while the waning light from Great Sol’s shabbat appearance outlined Conifer Mountain and Black Mountain in the mist. Shadow was inside and dry.
Yesterday was busy. By my standards. These days. Even though my breakfast with Alan canceled. He has a cold.
At 11:30 into Evergreen. Tuscany Tavern. Professor Colaciello, He starts teaching chemistry tomorrow at Metro Community College. This was a congratulatory lunch. At his choice of spots.
He explained his plans. “I’m going to open with, Chemistry is the science of transformations!” He has five demonstrations to follow that sentence. One using oil and water. Another using a combustible powder that he holds in his palm. A lighter. Why didn’t it flame up? Then he sprinkles it over the lighter and whoosh. Oxygen.
Dry Ice in Water. With a ph strip. The water becomes acidic as the dry Ice dissolves. Showing his dental hygienist students why carbonated liquids can destroy tooth enamel.
Later in the week, in a mildly ironic moment, he will teach his first class in the Chemistry of Cannabis. It’s an industry here and the industry requires educated workers. Part of the track for budding professionals.
Leo sat on the patio with us as we talked, ate our lunch.
Home for a nap with my Shadow girl.
Out to King’s Valley and Bear Park Road to pick up Irv for the CBE men’s group. Turn around and drive back to Evergreen to the Synagogue.
Only four of us. Joe Greenberg. Jamie. Irv. And myself. The topic. How to be with someone suffering from depression.
The smaller group allowed us to go deeper than we might have otherwise. Each of us had either been depressed or had a close family member who was, or had been. Not surprising.
Accompanying. Being with the person. Not trying to cheer them up or fix them, but acknowledging their pain. Letting them know you care for them. Realizing that depression has its own logic, never visible to those on the outside.
I shared my experience of waking up a couple of months ago to my dysthemia over the early months of this year. Chronic pain. Struggles with Shadow. Uncertainty about what was going on with my cancer.
When Kate was alive, she had this job, given to her by my analyst, John Desteian. She would say to me, “I sense you’re slipping into melancholy.” That would help me wake up, earlier. Kate’s gone now. Had to wake myself up. Harder.