Although, Dart had some symptoms of lethargy before we left,  Dodge had barely started demonstrating a low appetite.  She’d been out hunting in the sunshine and seemed fine.  I thought perhaps she’d eaten a mouse that was moving through her system slowly. Dart had been lethargic (for him), but he was jumping up on the bed with ease and showed no points of pain. His robust purr was in good working order whenever I handled him.  I noted the lump and decided I’d take him to the vet when we returned.  Neither cat seemed critical enough to warrant a pre-trip vet visit. Their feral natures have always made vet visits very stressful.

Fortunately, Pet Emergency Center in Mount Vernon, Washington, is open 24/7 including Sundays. So adding insult to the cat’s miseries, I got them into carriers and off we went.  I knew matters were serious just by how little they fought being placed in the carriers.

Blood work demonstratead immediately that Dodge was in advanced renal failure.  Dr. Jane Reynolds was frank.  “If this were my cat, I wouldn’t treat. The values are extreme. In attempting to get the blood test, it was apparent that her veins are breaking down.”  Euthanasia was the only option. I spent quite a few minutes with Dodge, soothing her and holding her.  It was obvious she was ready. She passed very peacefully with her head in my hands. We’ll never know for sure why she declined so rapidly at the age of 13.  When you allow your cats the freedom of the great outdoors, there are always risks of exposure to many unknowns – some of them toxic.

Dart could not be effectively examined without sedation. The presumption was that the lump was an abscess. His white count was extremely high. Dr. Reynolds suggested we go home and she would call post-surgically.  Unfortunately, the surgery demonstrated the lump was the tip of an extremely large tumor.  With Dart’s white count as high as it was, Dr. Reynolds doubted if he would survive the invasive surgery that would have been necessary to remove the tumor.  Unfortunately, we had no opportunity to say goodbye.  There was no point it bringing him out of anesthetic before euthanizing him as well.  I always worried about Dart’s love of traversing the railroad ties that support our ivy.  Even though most of the creosote was weathered off the tops,  I can’t help but wonder if exposure to those toxins played a role in the development of the tumor. We won’t get more cats until we have an opportunity to replace the ties. Cats are notorious for going where they want to go, not where you want them to go.

There are now two piles of rocks under a large cedar which I can see out the kitchen window.  My wonderful friends now lie in repose where they once frolicked and lived life fully.  My heart is broken, but I’m doing okay.  Part of pet ownership always includes taking the responsibility of not allowing them to suffer.  Losing both in one day is almost too much for the emotions to grasp.  The house is quiet.  I spent quite a bit of time yesterday, clearing cat dishes, bedding, toys and other reminders from the house.  It’ll be some time before we’re ready to start again.  In the meantime, it seems easiest to not be looking at the memories daily.

I am not religious but I have strong non-religious spiritual beliefs. Loss gets no easier, but my confidence in some variety of continuity grows stronger with each passing year.  There may be no guarantees about what happens after death, but certainly suffering is relieved and profound love continues to comfort those of us who must grieve.  I like to think death is the beginning of new adventures, I have strong confidence in the benevolence of that grand and final uncertainty.

Dart

 

Goodbye, my freinds.  Thank you for enriching my life. May your new adventures bring you as much joy as you  brought to me during our brief time together.

Dodge

“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!” CANON HENRY SCOTT HOLLAND (1847-1918)   

 quotation via The Solitary Walker

Smokey the Bear Sutra by Gary Snyder

Once in the Jurassic about 150 million years ago,
the Great Sun Buddha in this corner of the Infinite
Void gave a Discourse to all the assembled elements
and energies: to the standing beings, the walking beings,
the flying beings, and the sitting beings — even grasses,
to the number of thirteen billion, each one born from a
seed, assembled there: a Discourse concerning
Enlightenment on the planet Earth.

“In some future time, there will be a continent called
America. It will have great centers of power called
such as Pyramid Lake, Walden Pond, Mt. Rainier, Big Sur,
Everglades, and so forth; and powerful nerves and channels
such as Columbia River, Mississippi River, and Grand Canyon
The human race in that era will get into troubles all over
its head, and practically wreck everything in spite of
its own strong intelligent Buddha-nature.”

“The twisting strata of the great mountains and the pulsings
of volcanoes are my love burning deep in the earth.
My obstinate compassion is schist and basalt and
granite, to be mountains, to bring down the rain. In that
future American Era I shall enter a new form; to cure
the world of loveless knowledge that seeks with blind hunger:
and mindless rage eating food that will not fill it.”

And he showed himself in his true form of

SMOKEY THE BEAR

A handsome smokey-colored brown bear standing on his hind legs, showing that he is aroused and
watchful.

Bearing in his right paw the Shovel that digs to the truth beneath appearances; cuts the roots of useless
attachments, and flings damp sand on the fires of greed and war;

His left paw in the Mudra of Comradely Display — indicating that all creatures have the full right to live to their limits and that deer, rabbits, chipmunks, snakes, dandelions, and lizards all grow in the realm of the Dharma;

Wearing the blue work overalls symbolic of slaves and laborers, the countless men oppressed by a
civilization that claims to save but often destroys;

Wearing the broad-brimmed hat of the West, symbolic of the forces that guard the Wilderness, which is the Natural State of the Dharma and the True Path of man on earth: all true paths lead through mountains –

With a halo of smoke and flame behind, the forest fires of the kali-yuga, fires caused by the stupidity of
those who think things can be gained and lost whereas in truth all is contained vast and free in the Blue Sky and Green Earth of One Mind;

Round-bellied to show his kind nature and that the great earth has food enough for everyone who loves her and trusts her;

Trampling underfoot wasteful freeways and needless suburbs; smashing the worms of capitalism and
totalitarianism;

Indicating the Task: his followers, becoming free of cars, houses, canned foods, universities, and shoes;
master the Three Mysteries of their own Body, Speech, and Mind; and fearlessly chop down the rotten
trees and prune out the sick limbs of this country America and then burn the leftover trash.

Wrathful but Calm. Austere but Comic. Smokey the Bear will
Illuminate those who would help him; but for those who would hinder or
slander him,

HE WILL PUT THEM OUT.

Thus his great Mantra:

Namah samanta vajranam chanda maharoshana
Sphataya hum traka ham nam

“I DEDICATE MYSELF TO THE UNIVERSAL DIAMOND
BE THIS RAGING FURY DESTROYED”

And he will protect those who love woods and rivers,
Gods and animals, hobos and madmen, prisoners and sick
people, musicians, playful women, and hopeful children:

And if anyone is threatened by advertising, air pollution, television,
or the police, they should chant SMOKEY THE BEAR’S WAR SPELL:

DROWN THEIR BUTTS
CRUSH THEIR BUTTS
DROWN THEIR BUTTS
CRUSH THEIR BUTTS

And SMOKEY THE BEAR will surely appear to put the enemy out
with his vajra-shovel.

Now those who recite this Sutra and then try to put it in practice will accumulate merit as countless as the sands of Arizona and Nevada.

Will help save the planet Earth from total oil slick.

Will enter the age of harmony of man and nature.

Will win the tender love and caresses of men, women, and beasts.

Will always have ripe blackberries to eat and a sunny spot under a pine tree to sit at.

AND IN THE END WILL WIN HIGHEST PERFECT ENLIGHTENMENT.

thus have we heard.

(may be reproduced free forever)

First, forget what time it is for an hour.
Do it regularly every day.
Then forget what day of the week it is,
and do this regularly in company for a week.
Then forget what country you are in,
and practice doing it in company for a week,
and then do them together for a week
with as few breaks as possible.
Follow these by forgetting how to add
or to subtract.
It makes no difference.
You can change them around after a week.
Both will later help you to forget how to count.

Forget how to count,
starting with your own age,
starting with how to count backwards,
starting with even numbers,
with roman numerals,
starting with fractions,
with the old calendar,
going on to the alphabet,
forgetting it all until everything
is continuous and whole again.”
- W. S. Merwin

W. S. Merwin was appointed United States Poet Laureate this year – an act significantly bright enough to counterbalance several of my serious disappointments with the Obama Administration’s other progress thus far.

solar eclipse

“Anyone who has probed the inner life, who has sat in silence long enough to experience the stillness of the mind behind its apparent noise, is faced with a mystery. Apart from all the outer attractions of life in the world, there exists at the center of human consciousness something quite satisfying and beautiful in itself, a beauty without features. The mystery is not so much that these two dimensions exist – an outer world and the mystery of the inner world – but that we are suspended between them, as a space in which both worlds meet . . . as if the human being is the meeting point, the threshold between two worlds.”

- Kabir Helminski, The Knowing Heart

Quote via Whiskey River

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“There can be no understanding where there is mutual rejection.”
- Gustav Niebuhr, Beyond Tolerance

I do believe in a something-moreness, though: collective consciousness, ultimate source, transcendent connectedness, immanent divine creative field – something in each of us and all of us beyond randomness or biology. I also hold fast to a positivity about some variety of continuance beyond biological mortality – though I’m not addicted to a particular outcome – other than I most assuredly do not believe in hell or other similar eternal punishment scenarios. Frankly, those particular religious stories just seem mean-spirited (excuse the pun). A universal benevolence is integral to my spiritual orientation.

I believe I have personally experienced some moments of personal realization of this benevolent something-moreness – during meditation or contemplation – I call it a fearless peace. It’s a feeling of being enveloped in a radiant lovingness. It doesn’t really matter to me whether my experience is just a fabricated emotional state inspired by a quiet, peaceful landscape; or a particular sequence of neurons firing inside my brain in reaction to trouble or uncertainty – I like the feeling, it’s reassuring. I’m not likely to abandon it. Nor am I likely to pursue it with life-altering zeal – nor feel the need to. It’s always there, I have access to it when I need it. But it’s a bit like a wild animal – hard pursuit alters my relationship with it and moves it further away. Just accepting it as integral to the way things are allows for the comfortable sharing of ground.

Today is Easter. I had enough peripheral Christian upbringing that I can watch the big celebrations with a reasonable level of understanding and appreciation. Even though the whole crucifixion/resurrection tale seems a bit grisly to me, I do like the idea of miracles. Miracle is a good word for the inexplicable – whether it’s a spontaneous remission or some other variety of surviving the unsurvivable; the simpler stuff, like the beauty of a flower or the birth of a child; or the grander versions of those – like love or life itself.

Although I look to science more than spirituality to gain understanding of the world, science itself is something of a miracle when it comes right down to it. I don’t begrudge scientists who pursue the “god” particle – or the “god” neuron, although I think there will always be a part of the unknown that will remain unknowable. Whether collectively or individually, I tend to think by the time we find the ultimate answers, we’ll no longer need to know.

I go through phases of spiritual curiosity and pursuit, then step back – studying the details sometimes feels more like it’s obscuring truth rather than revealing it. I don’t know if it’s inspiration or defensive reaction, but the noisy religious holidays do set me to thinking about these themes more than usual, and perhaps I should thank the biggies for that at least.  This Easter week I’ve been working on a simple way to describe my spiritual orientation without committing to a particular label. So far I’ve got it down to this: I’m confident there’s something afoot beyond randomness and I’m comforted by an ever-present certainty in the overall benevolence of uncertainty.

Some would call that godless. Others might call it God.

Click here to view the embedded video.

]]> http://blogfromahermit.com/2010/04/04/beyond-random-the-benevolence-of-uncertainty/feed/ 2 http://blogfromahermit.com/2010/02/13/looking-for-a-blue-tarzan/ http://blogfromahermit.com/2010/02/13/looking-for-a-blue-tarzan/#comments Sun, 14 Feb 2010 02:31:20 +0000 Trish http://blogfromahermit.com/?p=3343 I wanted to see Avatar again before I drew any definitive conclusions. Griz and I have been sci-fi fans forever, but Griz periodically dozed off during our second viewing (he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before). And although I stayed awake, I have to admit I was more restless and impatient than I anticipated. The 3D shock-and-awe just didn’t compensate for the thin plot and dialog on the second run.  I was more irritated by the noise and violence.

Still – I’m glad I saw it again. The visual artistry is worth a second take. I noticed a lot visually that I missed the first time and I look forward to a sequel.

After all, it’s not as if James Cameron doesn’t warn us about the simplicity of his parable. If the stereotypical characters don’t jump out at you early on, by the time you hear the word “unobtainium,” you should have a clue.  James Cameron’s forte has always been special effects.  An old story with a new look works for him (and apparently his audience). Everyone who saw Titanic knew the outcome before they entered the theater.

I suspect James Cameron has great fun making movies, and I think he wants his audiences to have fun, too.  Nothing wrong with that.  Giving the Nav’i elongated canine teeth  is such a clear ploy for today’s vampire popularity that it’s laughable. He probably threw in many of Avatar’s other cliches and plot deficits just for fun, too (perhaps to see if we’d notice).  Cameron’s close enough to my age that I’m sure he saw the same old Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan movies on TV that I did as a youngster. In Avatar, the only thing missing when the deus-ex-machina beasties stampede in to save the Nav’i is this:

Click here to view the embedded video.

And from what I’ve read, it seems most people (including reviewers) come away from Avatar with the message they took into the theater beforehand. The rejecters reject the same things they always reject, the admirers admire the same things they always admire.  Appreciating good art is like that – the best art offers each of us an intimate subjective experience. With Avatar, gamers get a techie game, spiritual seekers get transcendence (although some devout reject Avatar altogether as promoting paganism), environmentalists get ecological connectivity, pessimists get to feel depressed because Earth isn’t as sublime as Pandora, optimists get to hope Earth is becoming Pandora.  Lots of good guys and bad guys to go around – with cross-overs and a paradox or two.

Here’s what I walked into the theater with: I am fortunate enough to live in an area where Earth’s vibrant glory is readily accessible and visually competes damn well with anything you can create digitally. This, of course,  keeps me fairly optimistic about life in general and our environmental direction in particular. Though not religious – spiritually, I lean toward nonduality.

Here’s the message I took out of the theater: The  Nav’i R Us.  We are rejecting our small, violent selves and becoming something larger. We are connected to all life, but life itself is a school and there are often mortal risks associated with learning to make the important connections. Ultimately, caring and connectivity will prevail and we’ll choose to banish our small, violent selves.

But the best thing about Avatar is this: popular movies are a reflection of our cultural consciousness. Even if the ideas are presented in elemental terms to reach the masses, ticket sales in response to Avatar’s themes of environmental responsibility and global connectivity represent very positive trends.

I had fun, too.

I’d also hate to get too attached.  Big trees fall. Some have to be cut down.

And most of our trees grew to their glory before we arrived here – without  the need for words or names. They just are, surviving tough conditions right where they stand, beyond analysis or judgments – and they’re mighty nonetheless. Passive endurance resulting in magnificent splendor. Unintentional artistry. (Though some would say it’s intentional.)

Look upward while standing quietly beneath a big tree. You cannot avoid feeling the power. Imagine what it takes to oppose gravity to that extent, processing sunlight, circulating nutrients and water to such great heights?

Big trees demonstrate the great wisdom of nature – they bend to buffeting winds, lean toward sunlight or bow to obstacles as necessary. When partially knocked down, they slowly redirect themselves back skyward, fortifying themselves even more at the bending point. They shed the unnecessary to better endure and prosper. I admire them.

Hard to believe such giants start out smaller than this volunteer western red cedar struggling for a foothold in our driveway gravel. This 3″ youngster was a seed last summer. I pot and replant more of these little buggers than is practical, but it’s hard for me to think of them as weeds.

The great tree symbology in James Cameron’s Avatar pleased me.  Avatar’s popularity demonstrates a positive direction in our collective consciousness. As little as twenty-five years ago, I doubt if Avatar (with or without 3D) would have captured such a large audience. Twenty-five years ago, only us die hard sci-fi types would have gone. Sure, there are probably more sci-fi enthusiasts now than ever before, but Avatar goes beyond sci-fi – it touches our growing ecological and spiritual awareness – our acknowledgment of an immutable connectedness.

A serendipitious tree article showed up in Griz’ Nuts & Volts Magazine last month. An Idaho company, Voltree manufactures a bioenergy harvester which attaches to a living tree and uses the tree’s metabolic processes to create electricity. The small electrical generators do not harm the tree. (At least we don’t believe they harm the tree.) Of course, the amount of energy you can generate this way is limited – these generators are used to power passive surveillance and scientific monitoring equipment. Still, it’s a kind of symbiosis that tickles me.

Voltree’s products are the kind of green technology we’re heading toward  (very slowly) – ways to use our resources without depleting or harming them.  We are starting to make those critical connections – artistically, figuratively, literally.

Of course, you get a lot more energy (quicker) from a tree if you chop it down and burn it to heat the shelter you’ve built with it’s carcass.  (Intentional shock value.)  See my next post Tree Power Down: Timber!

]]> http://blogfromahermit.com/2010/01/30/tree-power-up-tall-inspiration/feed/ 0 http://blogfromahermit.com/2009/12/25/the-seed-of-a-fearless-peace/ http://blogfromahermit.com/2009/12/25/the-seed-of-a-fearless-peace/#comments Sat, 26 Dec 2009 00:41:12 +0000 Trish http://blogfromahermit.com/?p=2995

There resides within each of us
The seed of a fearless peace.
In some it sprouts
Uncalled.
For others it rests
In deep dormancy
Beneath multi-colored
Layers of life’s soil.

The wise, the lost
And the questioning
Conduct a search,
Initiated perhaps by
Suggestion from another,
By curiosity or
By sobering need.

And once found
This fearless peace
Will break soil,
Though it may wither
Without nurture
Or acknowledgement,
Needing for further growth
A careful balance of
Sustenance and liquidity,
Both oft delivered by
The very soil of life
Through which
The tender sprout
First emerged.

The highest purpose
Of this fearless peace
Is to expand outward
Breaking through to
Sunlight
In such abundance
That it may sustain itself
Beyond its lowly roots
Sometimes entangling
In celebratory union
With other emergents
In a shared dynamic,
Which in symbiotic
Expression prompts
At least one other
To conduct a search
For the seed within.

You cannot buy this seed
Of  fearless peace.
Nor can any other
Gift it to you.
A proferred trellis
May provide
A temporary brace,
Timely fertilizer helps,
As does the
Occasional flashlight.
But ultimately
You must leap
Beyond the trellis,
Beyond even the bed,
Sometimes through darkness,
Launching yourself
In self-sufficient
Commitment -
Into thin air!

Remarkably,
The leap itself
Provides something
Of an indestructible
Bridge to quiet certainty,
Leaving you thereafter
Paradoxically more grounded
Rather than less
Like you’d think.

For now
The fearless peace within
Exists beyond uprooting,
A recognized
And constant presence
Within and without,
Unshakable ever after
Which with minimal vigilance
Becomes your chosen
And preferred
State of being
And resting place.

There are many names
For this fearless peace
In the multiple
Tongues of man.
With words and rituals
For the process
Of its discovery
And cultivation.
Use caution near those
Who would exclude
All names other
Than their preferred
As less perfect
In some way.
And question those
Who use exclusion,
Or any other rule,
As an excuse to
Cultivate fear
And stray from peace
Entirely.

There resides
Within each of us
The seed of a fearless peace,
Present before any words
And thus beyond all names,
Awaiting excavation
And destined to be found
By all of us and each of us
Sooner
Or later.

Trish Wareing, (c)  2009

Wild Geese   by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

The Buddhists say there are eight winds. They are gain and loss, praise and ridicule, credit and blame, and suffering and joy. If you aren’t aware of them, they will blow you away like dry leaves in an autumn breeze. For example, when someone praises you, and that tastes sweet like candy in your mouth, you are being blown away by the wind of praise.

One day in ancient China a young man thought he had become enlightened. He wrote a poem to his master about how he was not blown by the eight winds. Then he sent it to his master who lived 300 miles up the Yangtze River.

When his master read the poem, he wrote “Fart, Fart” on the bottom and sent it back.

The more the young man read those words, the more upset he got. At last he decided to visit his master. In those days, the 300 mile trip up the Yangtze River was a very difficult journey. As soon as he arrived, he went straight to his master’s temple.

“Why did you write this? he asked, bowing. “Doesn’t this poem show that I am no longer blown about by the eight winds?”

“You say that you are no longer blown by the eight winds,” replied the master, “but two little farts blew you all the way up here.”

-  Gary Zukav, Soul Stories, (c) 2000