Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ric. His heart attack. Mussar. Jamie. Luke, professor Luke. Leo. Rebecca. Ginny. Janice. Janet. Follow the meaning. Listening. Art Green. Shadow and her quest for the treat under the chair. Lodgepoles. Aspens. Grasses. Ground covers. Flowers. Asters. Bluebells. Penstemons. Swallowtails.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mussar

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Histapkot. Contentment.

Tarot: Ten of Stones, Home

“The inner and outer community that sustains and supports the individual, not necessarily blood family but the trusted friends, comrades, and lovers who offer security and affection.” Parting the Mists

One brief shining: Morning darkness extends later and later as we move toward Mabon, the Fall Equinox, helping the day start cooler and my inner life grows stronger as the days become shorter, shifting from the growing season to harvest, from harvest to the fallow time.

 

Elul. The sixth month of the Jewish year. It starts just past midnight here in the Rocky Mountains. A whole month set aside for cheshbon nefesh or accounting of the soul. We Jews look for relationships we have damaged and ask for forgiveness. A friend whom you became short with? A spouse you gave the silent treatment? A child you criticized harshly? A dog you disciplined because you had a bad day?

Any rupture between you and another. We want to enter Rosh Hashanah, the head of the year, or the New Year, with nothing between us and teshuva. That is, returning to the home place of our soul. This is, by the way, often translated as repentance, but its real meaning lies in becoming the you who you truly and always are.

While cheshbon nefesh may lead us into the so-called High Holidays, the Days of Awe, and its practices may make a lot of sense for cleansing the soul, I’m more, much more, of a Sukkot and Passover and Tu B’shvat Jew. That is, a Jew who follows in the Jewish holiday cycle the turning of the Great Wheel. I imagine Rosh Hashanah covers over an ancient harvest festival. If that were part of its observance, I’d feel more like celebrating it. As it is, meh.

 

Dog journal: Oooh. A new side of Shadow.

We’ve had to strike balances with each other. She comes in at night. I let her out in the early morning. I don’t reach toward her; she comes to me. I go to bed at 7:30 so she can get me up at 4:30 or 5:00. That sort of thing.

One of the hardest for me initially involved leaving the backdoor open. She wanted it. I didn’t. Too cold. Too likely to let in mice.

Likely enough that, as the seasons have rolled toward fall, I’ve put fresh batteries in my ratzappers and placed them in spots not far from the door. Spots I know mice have liked in the past. They’ve been down for a week plus now and no mice. Huh?

Yesterday when Shadow and I were playing her favorite game, where I walk a ways, stop, and when she comes in front of me, I drop a treat behind me, suddenly she was no longer behind me.

Her tail was up and she was running fast. She pounced. Went into the tall Grass. Picked something up and shook it. Flung it into the air. I wondered what it was so I approached.

It was a mouse. A very dead mouse. She picked it up in her mouth and did a fast victory lap around the property. Look what I did! Abandon all hope ye mice who enter here.