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  • A Walk in the Wildwood

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Moon of the Winter Solstice

    Tuesday gratefuls: Marina Harris and Furball Cleaning. Ana and her partner. Conifer Post Office. Mailing Christmas. That retired pre-school teacher I met in line. Meeting strangers. Ali, the Will Smith biopic. Frozen entrees, even if they are a bit boring. The pause in the remodeling. Cousins. Especially, Diane. Mary. Mark. Holiseason. Next up: Winter Solstice.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Yule

    Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the Major Arcana

     

     

    This is the card I’ve chosen as my significator, the one that represents me. It’s why I had Herme made, a way to reinforce the Hermit, the Hooded Man living in his Hermitage.

    Here’s what the Wildwood Book says about him: “The Hooded Man stands at the winter solstice point, along with the earth and the sun in the night. This is the time to be alone and contemplate life. This card describes the gates of death and rebirth, deep inside the Earth.”

    On the Winter Solstice I plan to start a year cycle with a focus on learning, in as deep a way as I can, the Wildwood Tarot Deck. I’m going to follow it through the Great Wheel, doing a Great Wheel spread each Celtic holiday.

    Mountain Path in Spring by Ma Yuan, Song Dynasty

    I will walk this path as the Hooded Man, the Hermit. But, also think, the Chinese scholar in his mountain retreat. Thomas Merton in his cell. Any Jew walking the long road from Egypt to the Promised Land. The Celtic saint on peregrinatio. The Hindu man living through Sannyasa. This is the moment when attention turns to the holy, the inner, the sacred. That’s all I mean.

    Even so. After enlightenment (no, not saying I’ve got there.) we must wash dishes, cook, pay bills. Not turning away from the world, living in it as a boy of wonder, a man turned toward the heart, toward the Wildwood. Gonna cook a regular Saturday afternoon family meal for my peeps. Use that new kitchen for taking meals to others. And, me too, of course.

     

    Jon and I will try again next week for his birthday dinner. This time he’s coming up here and we’ll go to the Black Hat Cattle Company in Kittredge. Carnivores delight. Cardiologists’ dream restaurant. Good food, well made.

     

    This Seth Levine, New Builders idea keeps itself alive. A sign I need to do something about it. I ordered the book, New Builders. Here’s my idea in a nutshell: Foundry Group (Seth’s venture capital organization) allies itself with a model synagogue, probably a big one like Emmanuel or Mt. Sinai, and a model Black Church, probably like or in fact, Zion which Rabbi Jamie has cultivated as a partner to Beth Evergreen. These three figure out how best to use the resources they each represent to nurture and support New Builder businesses.

    If the model proves functional and productive, roll it out to other synagogues, other Black Churches, and invite in the City of Denver’s Economic Development office. The latter will have funds from the Build Back Better initiative.

    Then, get to work.

    No solution is the One. As in, if we fixed education, everything would be better. If we focus on mental health, we can end homelessness. No.

    Yes, of course. Focus on education. Mental health. But, don’t forget jobs, businesses, the capacity to work on your own, for yourself.

    I believe economic justice needs to occupy a much bigger slice of our attention than it does. Reparations? I don’t know. Maybe, if it looks like what I’m proposing, that is, a way to underwrite Black creativity and initiative. To go with their ideas, their plans. Help them breathe, live. Forty acres and a mule brought up to date.

    Who knows? Could happen.

     

     

     

     

     


    Art and Culture Asia Denver Family Fourth Phase Great Wheel Kabbalah Mountains Politics Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant. Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Insight. Important.

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Winter Solstice Moon

    ©willworthingtonart

    Gratefuls: Samain and Winter, my favorite time of the year. Holiseason. Cranking up speed. Paul. 75 years! Charlie H. A reprieve! Another beautiful Colorado Day. High Fire danger since July. New cabinets arriving on location tomorrow. TSA prechek. Hanukkah presents from the Johnson (and my) sisters. Delightful. Gabe, Ruth helping unload cabinets, clearing out the sewing room. Joan Nathan’s chicken stew. Ham and cheese on sourdough. The Meme game.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: That family feeling

    Tarot: The Hooded Man, #9 of the major arcana

    “The Hooded Man stands at the winter solstice point on December 21, along with the earth and the sun in the night. This is the time to be alone and contemplate life. This card describes the gates of death and rebirth, deep inside the Earth.

    After the difficulties and tribulations when confronting the ancient forces, we need a moment of calm and reflection on life.

    The Hooded Man (The Hermit, Robin – i – The – Hood, the hermit in the deep forest) will bring persistent light in the middle of the winter as well as use his wand to dig deep and accumulate knowledge. His lantern illuminates the darkest frightening crises in every soul, repels misunderstandings, and opens the way to the door to The Great Tree. He knows that knowledge is the light and can only be cultivated through self-sacrifice and self-discipline. He points out the secrets of the deep forest and helps those seeking ways to cultivate their minds to go deeper into the forest. The Great Tree is one of the symbolic powers of the forest, which contains countless secrets and treasures of erudition.” Tarotx

     

    All righty then. I’ve got my old totem animal, the Moose, and my new, sidecar totem animal, The Great Bear, and coming home tomorrow my neon sign of The Hooded Man, aka The Hermit.

    Since I wrote yesterday’s post, I’ve been pondering the drum set with JUSTICE spelled out on the bass, long haired me sticks in hand, banging and kicking and whooshing. I’ve been pondering, too, the Hermit, the Hooded Man.

    And an odd insight has come to me. The little drummer boy for justice may actually be my anima, so, a little drummer girl instead. Justice is frequently portrayed as a woman and I can see (not sure about this yet) how my mother’s compassion toward and with the poor might have taken root in my soul as the constant song of a just world. Insistent. Rooted in feeling, not ideology. Instinctive. And, feminine. The yin impulse in my soul. Unexamined, strong, protective, nurturing. Insistent. A mother’s way.

    Which would then let the Hooded Man (reinforced by the Moose and the Great Bear) have the animus role. Makes so much sense to me. I have a conflict within me between an instinctive desire/need to right wrongs, fight injustice and an equally strong need to be alone, to go within, to sit in the darkness of the long Winter Solstice Night and be still.

    These are not exclusive, no. The one refreshes, recharges, brings perspective and deep connection while the other gathers up that energy and throws it into the world, crashing down bowling pins as it does. But it’s the opposite of the stereotypes. The man wants to return home, cook, play with the kids, have a quiet and peaceful life while the woman wants to take up arms against the sea of troubles and by opposing end them.

    This feels so right. And so complicated. Especially right now. The trinity of Hooded Man, Great Bear, and the Moose are of the Winter Solstice while Justice runs with the hot sun of the Summer Solstice. Fire energy.

    I suppose this time might be a time when the two try to come into harmony, realizing how much each needs the other. Yet, I feel the Hooded Man wanting to claim more and more of our common life. Home. Family. Introspection. Calmness. That bomb throwing Emma Goldman, deeply loved and cherished, on the other hand, feels guilty sitting out when there are wars still to be fought.

    Perhaps this new year will be a time to consider how these two can achieve the alchemical marriage: “Alchemical marriage is a soul-interaction that invites the sacred feminine to the sacred masculine. As a result, we experience wholeness in our spiritual core.” from here.

    In fact that would be a good goal, uniting the Hooded Man and Lady Justice. How to do that? No clue. Is it a good idea? I think so. Maybe it’s the end of the ancientrail of life. The conclusion or the work of the fourth phase.

     


    Art and Culture Asia Fourth Phase Great Wheel Holidays Kabbalah Myth and Story Our Land and Home Politics Reimagine. Reconstruct. Reenchant. Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Intense, Dude

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holiseason Moon

    Saturday gratefuls: Cincinnati Chili. Cooking. Learning how to again, on induction. Mini-splits at work. Experimental month with the hot water heat all off. Kate. Missing her sweetness. Holiseason well underway. Exercise finally back all the way. Core exercises. Diaphragmatic breathing. Kabbalah. Tarot. The Eel. Alan.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Seeing Jon, Ruth, Gabe today

    Tarot: The Knight of Vessels, the Eel.  Wildwood Tarot

     

    Parkside in Evergreen for breakfast with Alan yesterday. Took my new Roger with me. Had Alan clip it to his clothing. At least if I forgot Roger he would go home with somebody I know. Alan’s having cataract surgery in December. He drove me to mine last October. Seeing a friend in person, two actually, since Rebecca Martin was there, too, is so important.

    I told Alan about my Hermit neon sign that is underway. We got a good laugh out of the Master Benders. He wanted to know why. Because I see myself a hermit now, I said. We can fix that, he said. No, thanks, but I appreciate the thought. Maybe I should have gone with the Fool. The beginner’s mind. Setting off on the journeymen’s pilgrimage. Each morning. Maybe that will be one for the loft next year.

    Honey baked ham. Drove over to their shop in Littleton, near Tony’s. Lots of hams in the coolers. Just one of hundreds of these shops. Had an instant vision of all the Pigs. A moment of sadness. Bought half-a-ham. Sealed in gold foil. Sitting in the frig.

    Put in a pick-up order with Safeway. All the ingredients for chili. Now including chili powder for the first time in three years. I love Cincinnati chili. Chili on spaghetti with sour cream, shredded cheddar, and sliced green onions. And, of course, oyster crackers.

    Bought some fancy spaghetti at Tony’s for the chili. Also some salted caramel tiny beignets for dessert.

    Back home for a nap. Then, workout. I have, at last, gotten back to my old intensity. Been going at reduced speed and intensity since late June when I pounded my IT band into high tension on the sidewalks of Hickam Air Force Base.

    Probably a bit more than the old intensity. Two HIIT sessions with lower body resistance and core. Two cardio sessions with upper body and core. Over 5 hours a week now and I can tell the difference. My stamina’s better as is my breathing.

    Here’s the conundrum though. I know I need this level of exercise to keep myself healthy, or as healthy as I can be. But that means it has to be routine.

    I plan to reduce my week total to four days since I can get all the exercise I need in that time. I’ve had trouble when going for five days a week since I’ve kept the weekends exercise free. With exercise five days a week and writing Ancientrails I use up my mornings.

    After I workout, I go downstairs, eat lunch, have a nap. Often I don’t feel like doing anything after the nap. Easy, you might say, stop napping. Yeah. Except. Started napping in 1989. Continuous then to now. That’s what, 32 years? Pretty much a habit.

    That’s why four days. The HIIT makes getting my exercise quotient in quick. Wednesdays I plan as my off days. Then, I’ll be able to get phone calls, errands run on Wednesday, necessary work for the admin side of life. When I use up my mornings, and feel done in the afternoons it is not so easy to handle that stuff.

    Brother Mark asked in an e-mail this morning if I’d gotten back to my Latin. No. I haven’t. But I appreciated the nudge. I want to get back to Ovid, to Latin, to the writing that flows from it. Painting, too. Slowly, slowly. Taking life at a pace that works. Wu wei.

    Well. Just drove over to Evergreen, to CBE. Was going to attend a Torah study session with Rabbi Jamie. I love studying scripture. It’s fun. And, sometimes insightful. However. I need to learn close reading. Of the invitation to the Word and Deed time. Which clearly said, when I brought it up on my phone in the empty CBE parking lot: Zoom only. Sigh.

    Back in the car. Over to Safeway to get chili makings. Pickup. Back home now. A day of work inside the house. Moving this and that. Starting to clear out the kitchen for the remodel. Making chex mix, chili.

     

    The Knight of Vessels: The Eel

    ©willworthingtonart

    Promoting harmony. Welcoming. Coming Together.

    Perhaps a key part of the Hermitage will be welcoming, coming together, even hosting. My idea of cooking family dinners at 5 pm every Saturday, y’all come, feels good. Today will be the first and already Ruth wants to come early to make cookies. Yes!

    The eel, according to Caitlin Matthews, see below* for more information, is a protector. One who could, in Celtic myth, be transformed into a sword.

    As a protective animal in the suit of the emotions, vessels, and living in the water way, the knight of vessels is welcome in my home as family comes. Help us realize love and unity as we gather, eat.

     

     

     

    *Eels have the most mysterious life cycle and make the longest journey of any of the court card beasts. Spawned in the Sargasso Sea near the Bahamas, the young, transparent elvers make their way across the North Atlantic to European river-mouths. Making their way between water-courses, they often wriggle overland to find another waterway. When they are mature as silver eels, they return to the Sargasso Sea to spawn.  The birch tree was one of the first native British trees to emerge from the ice after glaciation.

    Caitlin Matthews, Wildwood Blog

     

     

     

     


    Aging Art and Culture Cooking Family Fourth Phase Health Latin Shadow Mountain Tarot Translating Metamorphoses Writing

  • Kate, Always Kate

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holiseason Moon

    Thursday gratefuls: Laurie Knox. Kate’s piecing. Joan Marshall. Others who quilted Kate’s tops into quilts. I now have four new, whole quilts pieced by Kate and quilted by her friends in the Baily Patchworkers. Two I will keep, a lovely batik quilt in purples and greens and a friendship quilt block one with squares from Kate and others in the Patchworkers. Women. Cold weather. Sleeping in. Snug as a bug in a rug.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Gospel music at CBE

    Tarot: I’ll cover this spread in its own post

     

    Those folks at Phonak. New hearing aid a cut well above the last one I had. And, they let me buy a new Roger for only $200. Picked it up yesterday. Will use it today at mussar. And, working on a memory technique for not leaving it behind. Ever again.

    Talked with Cousin Diane yesterday morning. She’s out there in the Bay area where the temps are usually in the 50-60 degree range. Ideal. She had her book group coming, which meant furniture rearrangement and cooking a whole meal. Hope it went ok. I’ll find out next Wednesday.

    Mark is in the house. The house being his home country, the good ole U.S. of A. He’s currently living in Fairfax, Virginia and touring D.C. At some point he heads out to Minnesota to connect with a new driver’s license. After that he may come up here. First time he’s been in the U.S. since Covid began. Three years in Saudi.

    Sleeping                                        Beauty                                          Henry Meynell Rheam

    Slept in this morning. Felt so good to have a cold bedroom and my electric blanket turned up high. The dogs didn’t object.

    While talking to Diane I had a modest epiphany. Part of my aversion to headlines and news stories these days, maybe a most of it, stems from being triggered. The Trump years come up. Biden’s poll numbers, the fractious nature of the Democrats in Congress. The Rittenhouse trial. The trials of the insurrectionists. An Atlantic article about the rise of autocracy titled, “The Bad Guys Are Winning.”

    History happens. And some of us have to be alive during the bad bits. Interesting times continue for Baby Boomers.

    Elk dad on father’s day, 2015

    It all seems so far away from Shadow Mountain. Solid, steady, dependable. Mountains. The one I’m on and Black Mountain that I see out my window. Just two of hundreds, thousands of peaks in the Rockies. The Elk, I saw a harem of over thirty Cows and one Bull the other day when I went into Evergreen. The Mule Deer. A few miles further I saw two Mule Deer Bucks locked in horny battle. All along Bear Creek.

    That beautiful black Fox photographed by a neighbor. Holly Bailey and her husband telling of a four hundred pound Black Bear on their deck yesterday. Their last dog died in September and now the Wildlife has begun to return to their home.

    What of this cares about Mar a Lago? What of this cares about Manchin? What of this finds the dismal state of politics in our country worth mentioning?

    A large part of me sides with Rocks, Creeks, Elk, Fox, Mule Deer. Snow, Clouds. The Sky. The Sun. That part of me wants only to sleep, eat, watch the Lodgepoles sway and Maxwell Creek tumble down Shadow Mountain. That part of me lives on no matter the craziness, the injustice, the climate degradation. And is happy.

    The other part, smaller these days, knows about interdependence. Acid Rain. Drought. Wildfire. Human encroachment on the wild. (yes, guilty) Toxins and pollutants in our air. That brown scuzz filtering the sunrise over Denver. The draining of Aquifers. The dwindling snow packs. That part knows there is no corner of the earth unaffected. It also knows the silly politics of humans matter, matter in a life or death way to our species and thousands of others.

    But here’s the truth. They don’t own me. I’m not just one of their silly toys. They can’t make me go out with them, can’t put me on display. (on their side). Which also means I still have that responsibility to act. To stake my claim in this world while I’m here. In spite of how interesting it may be.

     

     

     

     


    Art and Culture Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Mountains Politics Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Master Benders

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the Holiseason Moon

    Friday gratefuls: Tina at Morry’s Neon. Master Benders. Fun. Making the house mine. Finding Morry’s Neon, an urban pathfinding adventure. Jon. Cardio. Gut bombs. Jodi coming today. New washer coming on Monday. None too soon. Cities. I love them. But no longer want to live in them. The Pandamndemic. Orgovyx. Prostate Cancer.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Master Benders

    Tarot: King of Pentacles,  Druid Craft

     

    The Hermit neon sign. Quite the oxymoron. Let’s file it under ironic and enjoy it anyhow. Discovered the limits of my navigation software when it kept wanting me to turn left about a hundred feet beyond a chain link fence. The skiploader and men working would have protested, too.

    Morry’s Neon, in the neighborhood near the Bronco’s Stadium. Felt like it kept moving as I made this turn and that. Going past construction, non-through streets that used to continue. A year or so back this area, largely Latino, got backing for a huge urban redevelopment plan. In the future you might be able to find your way. Not right now.

    Morry’s sits between the Strange Craft Brewery and the Rising Sun Distillery. The Cream. Strange Brew. All the same flat storefronts in a long white business strip mall.

    Tina. I’m Glen. I’ve been e-mailing you. Turns out she signed all the e-mails but all I saw was that they came from Glen, her husband, and with her, the owner of Morry’s Neon. He’s a Master Bender. No, not that. Bending glass tubes.

    Eddy, left. Mario, right

    It’s hard to find Master Benders anymore. Eric has been with us for 30 years and Mario for 8. But Mario had been a bender for many years before that. All seasoned.

    Master Benders. Who knew? Tina said she tried to learn it but kept burning herself. When I couldn’t even make a W, I decided bending was not me. I told her I took a week long potting class to conclude the same for me about throwing pots.

    Tina wanted me to see the Neon color “chart.” Once there I could see why. Her color chart (see picture) had the colors in tubes, turned on. That way you get a sense of what blue means, or green, or red.

    I had to decide on colors for hands, the staff, the beard, the lantern, and the robe. The robe alone may require as much as 14 feet of tubing. I made my decisions. We’ll see how well I did when I get the sign in a month.

    Their shop fascinated me. I found it beautiful, a carny or sideshow vibe, but in a manufacturing setting. Long paper covered lengths of tubing sat under a long counters. Where Mario worked, further back, there was a flame he used to heat the tubing before bending it.

    Then, when Tina flipped a switch, look what showed up. Could have been Times Square or the Vegas Strip. I love neon and neon signs.

    The Hermit will go on the south facing wall above my breakfast table. Not sure how often I’ll turn him on. LOL. That we’ll have to see. They make a black box, plastic, for him, that will put the transformer behind the sign. My original idea was to have a sign outside but outside ups the cost about a grand.

    The office

    I put down my deposit and Jon and I left for a burger joint. I wanted a place where he could get some calories.

    Got in a strong cardio workout before I left. I have a half day plus of energy, then I need a nap.

    Came home. Always happy to come back up the hill. One way streets. Construction. Narrow lanes. A sense of people reaching past themselves for a brass ring, hell, even a tin one.

    King quoting Theodore Parker, Unitarian Clergy. early 19th century

    Yes. I did read the newspapers. Complicated. Looking good for the GOP. 2022. When I met with RJ on Wednesday, he said he doubted he would ever see a normal market in his lifetime. He meant that central banks had interest rates set artificially low, bond yields are terrible, savings accounts stupid. Money has to go into stocks to grow. That keeps the market driving up.

    After these elections, I’m inclined to say the same thing about the political realm in the U.S. I doubt I’ll ever see a “normal” election during my fourth phase. And when that ends I’m outta here. You can argue, in my mind successfully, that the old normal was no good anyhow. However, the new chaotic style of American politics bodes poorly for folks and issues I care about.

    Makes me want to go live on top of a mountain in the Rockies. And, stay there.

     

     


    Art and Culture Commentary on the news Denver Dogs Family Fourth Phase Our Land and Home Politics Shadow Mountain Tarot US History

  • Roger, Oh Roger

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Samain and the crescent of the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Tuesday gratefuls: Amy, at Mile High Hearing. The Roger. Loss. Kate, always Kate. And, her quilting. Jon. Ruth. Gabe. Mark. Rigel, her insistent, loud barking at 3 am. Kep, who slept through it. Julie and AARP Advantage plan #1 with premiums. Electronic signing. Marina Harris’s Furball Cleaning.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Astrology

    Tarot: King of Pentacles, Druid Craft

     

    Felt a little like I was on my way to the Principal’s office while driving into Mile High Hearing. It’s not often I face a relative stranger and have to acknowledge a failure. I could not keep Roger safe.

    Amy was good about it. And, for reasons that make sense to me. I was out for a meal, the first fine dining moment since Kate died. At least here in Colorado. Using the Roger. And it helped me hear Alan over the very live restaurant. What she wanted. I want to open the world up for you.

    She and I puzzled over how Gaetano’s could have lost it. I don’t know and at this point it seems moot. Roger is gone.

    Amy will contact Eric, her rep for Phonak, and see if they can cut me some kind of deal. A much lower price on a new one. I hope she’s successful, because I’m ready to start ghost writing a book, Roger and Me.

    Caspar David Friedrich
    Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog (1818)

    Fog covered 285 on the way down the hill. Dicy at any speed. Ice and fog are my two least favorite driving conditions.

    Before that Julie got me into a new policy with better benefits. Amazing. We met and reviewed documents all over zoom and email. She sent me the documents to sign, which I did electronically. Much more efficient, carbon and time.

    Julie also signed me up, in January, with Conifer Family Medicine which will open a satellite office in Evergreen in the new year. The Conifer practice has no opening for new patients. I don’t mind. Evergreen is my town and much closer than Littleton. I’m actually in an Evergreen precinct, CBE is in Evergreen, and most of my CBE friends live there or nearby. Conifer has no personal ties for me except my immediate neighborhood.

    Got the art for my Hermit neon sign. I like it. Not cheap, but it will be a signature piece for the Shadow Mountain Hermitage. Gonna put it on the inside wall that can be seen through one of our front windows.

    I go in to Morry’s Neon tomorrow. My only quibble was the red eyes. Too many movies where the vampires have red eyes. Glen and I will pick out a new color together.

    Also got a Woolly Mammoth hoodie in the mail from Ode. Looks warm. Got here just as the weather has begun to cool down. Must be a Stefan/Mario collaboration. I plan to wear mine when I hit the speed bag. You know, Rocky. Woolly.

    AWOL. That’s been me. From the news. I read headlines, rarely full stories. This has been a time of going inward, away from the world. Will continue for a while. The news draws me back, puts me in the maelstrom that is our era while I need time, quiet time.

    Climate change. The Whigged out GOP. The Gump Trump. The Pandamndemic. Democrats shooting themselves in the foot. I know. All still underway. As for me, I will remodel my kitchen, hang some neon art in my living room, utilize my mini-splits, pet my dogs.

    I am the King of Pentacles. In this world, peaking in my animus energy, staying steady, staying the course of grief’s long journey. Readying myself for, already in, the fourth phase of my life.


    Art and Culture Dogs Family Feelings Fourth Phase Friends GeekWorld Health Kabbalah Our Land and Home Politics Shadow Mountain Tarot Weather +Climate

  • Pandamndemic

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Thursday gratefuls: Pruning. Proceeding. Pantry in use now. Picked a sink. Induction range and cookware. First heat. Friday. Kitchen remodel getting legs. Cold nights. Pandamndemic. Prostate cancer. HIIT. Good workout yesterday. Giving stuff away. Pots and pans. The stove. Money.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Sun, another day

    Tarot:       The High Priest, #5 of the major arcana, Druid Craft

     

    Goya’s, Self-Portrait with Dr. Arrieta. Mpls Museum of Art

    Pandamndemic. Creeping horror coming to your state the week of Halloween. Delta variant dawning. And twilighting. And causing pressure on health care, body counts, hope for a mask free end of the year. I find my own resistance to the masks, to caution challenged.

    I just wanna be free! Damn it. Me and roughly however many billion of us have been dealing with this damned thing for well over a year and a half. Feels like this gray pall draped over every encounter outside of home. The hearing issues with it make me want even more time alone.

    Then there’s the Build Back Better plan. How’s that going? I’m for putting McConnel and Manchin in a chain link box. Let a 3 round MMA bout settle which one’s the bigger impediment to a decent future. Winner gets a free disruption of the people’s business, no explanation required.

    What? They already have that? Are doing that? Oh, I see. Well then. Let’s put them in a chain link box and tether them, Andromeda style, to a condo sitting on Miami’s disappearing beach front. Now wait. That could encourage climate action. Couldn’t it?

    Between Covid and the Congress, between Covid and the weak-kneed White House, I find life outside the wonderful world here atop Shadow Mountain often dismal, rarely joyful. And. I. Don’t. Like. It.

    Yeah. So what, you say. Suck it up buttercup. Nope. Not gonna do that. And, I wanted to have my minute. There it’s over. Back to business as masked.

    Leading mussar today since Carole had a wreck. In hospital with a cracked sternum. Ouch. Meals for her for a couple of weeks. Glad. I get to return the favor.

    Topic in mussar today. Judgement. Of others. The Perkei Avot says Jewish tradition instructs us that when we judge another person, we are to put their misdeeds on one side of a scale and their virtues on the other side of the scale. If the scales are balanced, then we should tip them towards merit.

    And, ourselves. “The Talmud says that we should always judge other people favorably. We must also judge ourselves favorably”. (R. Nachman of Breslav)

    Odd that in Christianity, which says judge not, the tendency is to judge harshly, while in Judaism, which sees judging others and ourselves as both inevitable and necessary, the remonstrance is to judge others favorably.

    Reb Nachman puts another flaw in the ointment. We must also judge ourselves favorably. Whoa. That’s a hard one, eh?

    I’m guilty of judging others harshly, of weighing what I perceive to be misdeeds or character flaws as tainting the whole person. I suppose you could call this cancel culture. Make one misstep and you not only get judged, you get ostracized from polite society.

    “Machrio L’Chaf Zechut translates as “influencing others to virtue,” or “judging others favorably.” Machrio comes from the root chaf-reish-ayin and means “to bend.” L’chaf zechut means “to a scale of merit.” This is the middot associated with judgement.  Reform Judaism

    This one goes on my spiritual curriculum. A spiritual curriculum according to mussar has on its syllabus character traits where we often fall short and those that we have, but need to reinforce.

    This sort of work is actually High Priest work. “Tradition and guidance. Formal knowledge, education and academic establishments. A need to conform to orthodox ideas and conventional approaches. The significance of a teacher or mentor.” The message: “There is a value in discipline and routine to maintain the connection between your worldly and spiritual life.”  Druid Craft Book.


    Art and Culture Cooking Coronavirus Feelings Fourth Phase Friends Health Kabbalah Mussar Our Land and Home Shadow Mountain Tarot

  • Jon, Fiddler

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thinned Veil

    Jon and Kate in his new house. The kitchen looks very different now.

    Sunday gratefuls: Ovation West and Center Stage’s Fiddler on the Roof. Excellent. Jon, still struggling with Addison’s and diabetes and thyroid problems. Probably hospital next week. Ruth and Gabe, getting by with all this as best they can. Rigel, who barked in the middle of the Night. Kep, who did not. 33 degrees. Clear blue Sky. Ancient Ones. Johnson clan. Kate Strickland and Michael Banker at Scooter’s.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Family

    Tarot: Queen of Wands

     

    DIA, creative commons license

    Gosh. Took Joseph to DIA, leaving here at 8:30 so he could get a rapid Covid test, a haircut. Got the test. Busy barbers. On to the airport. Much easier drive on a Saturday morning. Both ways. I said good bye to this sweet kid with a big hug at United departures. He lifted his heavy, heavy duffle and his also heavy backpack, trudged off into the terminal. On his way to LAX, then Honolulu, Seoah, and Murdoch. And tonight, Sunday night, back to the airport for a flight first to Guam, then Manila. In the middle of the week, then, back home.

    Alan as the beggar

    Got home. A brief liedown. Up at 12:30 for my Tree of Life Tarot spread class. Left the class early. To Center Stage in Evergreen to meet Jon, Ruth, Gabe for Fiddler on the Roof. Alan is in it. A beggar.

    The production was wonderful. A small live orchestra accompanies most Center Stage musicals. And, they’re all musicals. Tevya was, oddly, the director of the Music Department at Colorado Christian College. His voice, stage presence, acting carried the show. Which had imaginative choreography, few props, and a compelling pace. The cast had chops.

    Ruth and Gabe at intermission

    It went from 2:30 to 5:45. Glad we didn’t do the evening show. I would have been snoring in my seat.

    Because I screwed up my schedule and we didn’t get lunch before hand (I forgot to enter my class and the show on my calendar. Rare.), I waited for a Beau Jo’s Mountain pizza while Jon and the kids went on to Shadow Mountain.

    About an hour later, I arrived home with a hamburger and sausage combination, 5-pound (how they sell them) pie.

    Jon’s struggles with his disease triad, teaching, and depression have gotten worse. So much so that he’s applied for medical leave and has considered going on disability. Yes, it’s that severe. He gets intermittent low blood pressure that makes him weak, thrush that makes it hard to eat, not to mention the serious fluctuations in his blood sugar and cortisol levels.

    The thrush went on long enough that he’s now thin, as Kate was. Eerie similarities in their path.

    Gabe’s bris

    All this concerns me, not only for Jon, but for Ruth and Gabe as well. Jon thinks his endocrinologist will put him in the hospital, possibly as soon as tonight or tomorrow. There they can manage his blood sugar and cortisol more closely, develop a plan for handling it. Jon told me last night that a small cohort of Addison’s sufferers have his symptoms, where the medicine does not resolve the cortisol insufficiency, creating crisis after crisis.

    Not sure where all this goes. Time.

     


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  • Fourth Phase Life

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Moon of the Thin Veil

    Wednesday gratefuls: A stained house, newly painted garage doors. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Sandy, coming up to be with Kate’s ashes. Kate, always Kate. The Woolly retreat in November. The Mountains. The Rocks, Lodgepoles, Aspens, Creeks, and Wild Critters. Deep peace.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Roadtrip!

    Tarot: Ace of Pentacles

     

    Daniel stained my whole house in just over a day. A sweet man. The 3M window coverings reminded me of St. Paul, of the Twin Cities. Alvin, his partner yesterday, took down my blue lights. Think I’m gonna leave’m down. Lots of neighbors complaining about lights ruining the dark Sky, a true Mountain amenity. They’re not wrong. Does mean I gotta dig out the box of solar lights I ordered. I need something to identify our house at night. So easy to drive right past it.

    January 2020

    On Monday, Coyote HVAC. Then, choosing between bids for remodeling the kitchen. Probably won’t happen until later in the year. May seem strange, my doing all these things, spending a bunch of money. Not to me. They represent another phase of grief, one in which I celebrate what Kate and I had together while creating my fourth phase life. Hence, I’m enhancing the house she found and in which we shared our last years together.

    Got a note from the Assistance Fund, the one that pays down my copay for Orgovyx from $800 a month to $10. I have to reapply for coverage on December 1st. Won’t miss that deadline.

    Greg Lell, owner of the painting company, came by yesterday to get his check. We got to talking. He was, he said, a dairyCatholic.* He ran the words together. His parents figured out a three to four year gap system that resulted in six siblings for him, and, crucially, a new farm hand growing into the job as one left it. Oddly, he has a distinctive Texas accent, but he grew up in Colorado. Over 15 years in Texas he began to sound like a native.

    Many Woolly brothers, Tom, Mark, Paul, have decided not to attend the retreat. Excellent reasons, probably ones that apply to me, but I need to get outta here, get on the road, be somewhere else. Not new, forty years a Minnesotan, but also not Colorado.

    Largest wood fired kiln in the U.S. Bresnahan in sportcoat

    I will be staying in retreat lodging at St. John’s Monastery in Collegeville. I have done retreats there before and visited many times. The ceramic urn which holds Kate’s ashes came out of the Johanna Kiln, shaped by Richard Bresnahan from clay dug not far from the monastery. The firing of the Johanna Kiln is a major event as it’s a dragon kiln with several bays snaking up a hillside. When it’s firing, volunteers feed split Wood into its firebox 24 hours a day until the ceramics finish their ordeal. Maybe I’ll finally buy a teapot.

    Drew the Ace of Pentacles this morning. The aces are potential, the essence of their suit. Pentacles represent mother earth, malkut, this world, this physical world. In many cases this card may signal success in business, an inheritance, making progress in a career. It also can suggest deep peace, well being in this world. Feeling calm.

    As I’ve entered this new phase of grieving, a great calm has settled within me. A deep peace. I’m more in my life than regretting, mourning Kate’s death. As I said yesterday, my life with her is the foundation for this phase, what I’m calling my fourth phase. I’m modeling this fourth phase idea on the Hindu life phase of renunciation and a focus on the spiritual.

    The Ace suggests I’m on the right path. Let’s call it a new ancientrail. Though the road that led here connects to it, this ancientrail has made a sharp turn toward the West, toward the setting Sun. It is the final phase of life and one I want to walk intentionally. To walk it like a Celtic Christian saint. Peregrenatio.

    *Yes, I did mention the other dairyCatholic I know, Mr. Bill!


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  • What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me? 

    Posted on by Charles Comment

    Fall and the Thin Veil Moon

    Tuesday gratefuls: Black Mountain. Golden Fire. Those bucks who visited. Coolness. Daniel. Alvin. Greg. Staining the house. Amy at Mile High Hearing. Phonaks. The Roger. Kate, always Kate. Mark Horn. The Tree of Life spread. Tarot. Changing my perception of myself. That steak I thawed. Potatoes. Peas and carrots. Self-care.

    Sparks of Joy and Awe: Mark Horn’s answer to my Tarot spread question

    Tarot: Two of Cups

     

    This exchange is an email between the man, Mark Horn, teaching the Tree of Life spread class, and myself. I post it here because he somehow (how does the Tarot work, anyhow?) identified a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately.

    “How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage?”

    Hesitant. Reluctant. Shy. Timid. Maybe not words you’d apply to me. But they are on target in this instance. I’ve been a faithful student all my life, learning as much as I can. I have written novels and short stories. Many sermons. Literally millions of words on this bog. Yet, I’ve done almost nothing to ensure others see my work, hear my voice.

    “What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?” Mark asked. This question tumbles around now like clothes in the washer. Why have I been so timid, so shy, so reluctant, so hesitant to get my work out there?

    I don’t know the answer, but it’s a question worth exploring. This tarot stuff. Powerful.

     

    I wrote to Mark:

    “Though I’m less new to Kabbalah, I’m still in an early learning state with Tarot.

    Which makes me feel unable to properly read the cards I got for my supernal triad spread.

    Keter: The Devil

    Chokamah: The Chariot

    Binah: The Hermit reversed

    I got stuck on the Devil in the Keter position. Is my shadow the point here? I’m a recovering alcoholic, but I’ve been sober and calm 46 years. Not really addicted to anything.

    Anyhow, I then noticed the Chariot has a crown, so it’s stronger up here in the supernal triad. Not sure what ambition is about for me at 74. Not feeling like there are mountains for me to climb. Except of course the mountain on which I live. Ironically, it’s named Shadow Mountain.

    Hermit reversed? My wife died in April so I’m a widower, living in our house with our two dogs, Rigel and Kepler. I like being alone, but I see friends, close friends, regularly and attend Congregation Beth Evergreen’s events and see my grandkids and step-son regularly.

    Can you point me toward some help?

    I enjoyed the class a lot. Looking forward to next week.

     

    Mark Horn responded:

    Hi Charles,

    I’m glad you enjoyed the class. Let me give you some suggestions for these cards.

    When the Devil appears in Keter, well, one of the questions that comes up you have already spoken to, which is addiction of some sort—but there’s more to the Devil than that—it’s always good to ask, “is there some lie that i have been told about myself, or taken in unconsciously, that I need to free myself from?”

    -What do I believe about myself/my life that if I let go of it would free me?

    -Does my experience with addiction give me a role to play in helping others find freedom from substance abuse? (And specifically, if you’re in AA, have you taken on the role of a sponsor or a service position in your local AA? And if not, why not?)

    -How can I help others see through their illusions with humor? (The esoteric title of the Devil is The Lord of Mirth, and humor that helps people see the truth is one of the possible ways to interpret the card)

    -And yes, shadow is something that comes up here too, so that a question to ask is: what shadow elements do I still need to bring to light and heal?

    With the Chariot, some questions in the Chokmah position might be:
    How can I better engage the wisdom I have achieved? What new goals would inspire me? How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others?

    The Hermit and reversals—I haven’t discussed how to read reversed cards yet, so good to have asked. This is one of those places where I let my intuition take over. By that I mean I don’t always read reversals. My feeling is that the context will help, and every hard has both a positive and negative reading, and which reading to go with becomes clear as we examine and ask questions. But, since a question that came up with the Chariot in Chokmah could be:  How can I share the wisdom of the road I have taken with others? Then when the Hermit reversed shows up in Binah, you might ask, In what ways am I hesitant about stepping into my role as Sage? How can I share my light with others who need it? In what ways can I make my life an example for others who are struggling on their path?

    With three Major Arcana cards in the Supernal triad, this is a powerful grouping, and given the context you mentioned, feels very much to the point.

    One of the reasons I give “questions to ask” rather than interpretations of the card is that an interpretation is closed, but a question, at least the way I try to phrase it, is open-ended and calls for thought before a response. It may not even call for a response, but be more of a question to live with. The questions are meant to resonate with the querent, and lead them to examine things they may or may not have thought about.

    And one thing I often tell people I read for is that the cards almost always tell you something you already know—you just need to hear it again or hear it from another source so that you’re more present to the information.

    I hope this is helpful.

    Everbest,

    Mark”

     


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