I seem to have struck a cord with my talk about taking things into my own hands and putting a solve on the puzzle problem.  You can tell I am really pleased with myself on that one.  Nothing like a good first outing.

To keep it simple right now let me talk about this in the context of the cancer arena.  I have noticed stages in my journey that I am trying to observe, articulate and make clear for myself and others.   Let’s run through them quickly as they exist today.

First a person gets a diagnosis and he becomes a patient.  This word makes me queasy.   I associate with all that early freak out time after the dreaded diagnosis.  But the way it seems now that anyone can be a patient.  A stump or a rock can be a patient.  Or a patient that flails around with all sorts of irrelevants and doesn’t get beyond.  This is where guidance is essential.

Second a patient can with guidance and effort get to a place of personal happiness were “things are good” despite what would seem like a bad situation.  A place where being present in the moment leads to living for the day in a good way not an escapist way.  Thinking about this being the cancer camper stage.  This is were the patient has moved on to enjoying this break from former life style to realize this is an important phase of life that needs to play out.  Think about being at Camp Runnamucka when you were a kid.  You were sick of lime jello and were sunburned and insect bit but you were having the time of your life.

Then if one is  accumulating some extra energy from getting on top of side effects maybe he starts having the inclination to start causing a little trouble.  Maybe he starts asking questions about things, like how come this or how come that.  Or maybe he tries to change something for someone else, like “come be a camper and quit being such a patient”.  Or maybe he throws out a jigsaw puzzle that is cruel and unusual so patients don’t get frustrated.  So he is starting to get off the reservation as they say, leaving the bounds of Camp Runnamucka but heck it seems like what he should be doing, right?  So, I’m in uncharted waters for me here and coming up with the working title of Cancer Commando has been helpful to focus my energy.

So the protagonist in One Flew Over the Coocoo’s Nest was Mc Murphy.  Not that I am saying anything about the hospital or nurses just that I feel like that character in my particular situation but I am starting to feel like McMurphy.   It’s got to be a good thing, right?

Look, I have to go for now.  You guys are lovely, Felipe.

It’s my chemo treatment day and I am early to the hospital.  The traffic was really light for some reason and I just zoomed in.  Jennifer is showing up soon.  We didn’t come in together as usual.  But we will cause trouble here shortly.

I did my turn at the jigsaw puzzle here in the waiting room.  I try to do at least one piece. Did three today, hurrah.  It’s where it is happening here.  It is the best way to strike up a conversation and get intelligence.  Other than that, people are moping around and it is hard to approach them.

Last time I was here I did my first mission as a cancer commando and it had to do with the puzzle.  I’ll have to tell you about it.  I came over to do my usual piece and noticed that the puzzle was the same one that was there two weeks before which is odd since there is usually a faster turnover.  Not only that but it seemed still to be two thirds done like somehow nothing had progressed in two weeks.   And it didn’t take too long of staring at it to discover that it had numerous pieces missing.  People realized that and lost interest quickly but the big thing is nobody did anything about it.  It just remained.

So, I got it in my head to deep six it with permission of course.  It felt so great to slide the pieces off the table and into the wastebasket.  I was striking a blow for the other patients coming after.  It sounds a little silly but it was a case of realizing the value of a positive action no matter how small.  And the value of getting out of my personal “rut” and participating in the bigger picture.

Well, it seems like a dinky little thing but it is part of something bigger, something that could grow.  Just getting organized and getting the hang of this cancer commando calling.  It feels a little like “One Flew Over the Coocoo’s Nest”‘ if you can remember that.  That was from the sixties; I don’t know if we can remember that.  Later, love, Felipe.

Before I forget let me give you the current walking schedule for local Caminoheads to come and walk and talk here at Raven Ranch:

Monday 0900-1000

Tuesday 1600-1700

Thursday 0900-1000

Sunday 1600-1700

There, good, then a report on the Caminoheads Pie Party yesterday.  So we had our Sunday walk and talk then slid into tapas and then had about fifteen folks for potluck pie.  Everyone brought some kind of something, savory and fruit.  We had rabbit pie, elk tamale pie, Russian veggie pie, mango cream, pumpkin and all sorts of chocolate and fruit pies.  We had wine and Phil’s Pilgrim Brew coffee.  Alperfect.

The occasion was that Our Beloved Esther is off down the pilgrim road to her next destination.  This was her last weekend here on Vashon.  She has been here for three great months and this was her going away party.  We will miss her for a number of reasons but one is that she has energized the locale here for the time that we got to share her.

Such as:  the Caminoheads Make A Will Party and the Caminoheads Car Wash.  She had her hands in on those.  And the Caminoheads Pie Party was a result of her sheparding Felipe past his original idea of a pie fight party, although he still thinks that has possibilities.  So yea, you see it just won’t be the same around here.  Happy trails!  Bon voyage!  Buen Camino Esther!

Monday morning and the start of another work week, love you, Felipe.

Father Marc had a great homily this AM.  It was built around the Bible story where some of the disciples are crossing the Sea of Gallilee in a boat and a storm comes up and the boat is overwhelmed  in the crash of the waves and starts to sink.  Jesus is sleeping away on a cushion in the stern and is awakened by a frantic disciple and Jesus calms the storm with his words.  Nice. So the Father’s talk was about always having Christ in your boat as you pass through life and beyond.

I don’t know if this notion was actually in his homily or whether I was thinking it up but I was thinking of a person’s life as one day.  You know you are born at dawn and you grow up in the morning and the whole thing proceeds to death/darkness.  Yea, we have heard it before except this time I realized that personally I am in tapas right now.  Huh, now I know why I have been having such a great time and feel in the groove lately.  Cool or what?

You have a glass and do you want red, white or rose?  Love, Felipe.

I went to my bible class this AM to study Matthew chapter five.  What an amazing time we had.   Generally we try to get through a chapter at each hour and a half session.  But this time we made it through six verses out of the complete forty five.  Not that there are time limits or referees but we try to move along, we’re guys.

The first part of Matthew Five  are what are commonly known as the Beautitudes which is the central teaching of Jesus and thus the central ideas of Christianity.  Very concise, very easy to understand.   Well, one would think.  Why then did we get hung up so?  We spent a lot of time on individual words and their translation from the Greek.   And we talked about the word “meek” for a long time.  It appears in certain versions of the Bible for “poor in spirit” as in ” Blesses are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  We seem to all to a man been bothered by that word.  It sort of leaves that impression of a doormat.  Blessed are the doormats, yea really?

But to our relief we came up with this bit of wisdom from a guy named David Guzik:  “In the vocabulary of  the ancient Greek language, the meek person was not passive or easily pushed around.  The main idea behind the word “meek” was strength under control, like a stallion that was trained to do a job instead of running wild.”   Well that appealed to the guys, stallion right?

Well, that is kind of how things go around here.  We try to stay strong but humble, in shape but not proud.  Yup.  That’s it for now.   Meek loves, Felipe.

It’s all happening today, things that we hear about and see, things to try and wrap our heads around.  If you watch the news we have a horrendous hate crime in South Carolina and the U.S. Open Golf Tournament here in western Washington State.  If you read this blog we have Clara in Columbia, a Camino buddy of Juan’s who is growing corn in Iowa being lavishly prayed for by my Camino buddy Mary Margaret, tea

ching in Shanghai.   Right here at Phil’s Camino we had a light rain over night.

It’s the old “the good, the bad and the ugly” looks like.   The Devil is alive and well first off showing us his handiwork.   How does a young man get so far off track?   For sure let us pray for peace in that neighborhood.

To the US Open, Chambers Bay Golf Course is just maybe 15 miles south of the ranch.  It is along the waters of Puget Sound which Vashon Island is in.  Looking at the TV coverage you see Anderson, McNeil and Fox Islands off shore of the course.   The site was a gravel pit ten years ago and is a beautiful example of repurposing.  It is very rugged looking and very rugged on some players who can’t seem to get the hang of it.  Tiger Woods in currently 11 over par.   It seems it takes some unconventional thinking to adapt to the unconventional terrain and grasses.  Some of the younger players seem to be doing well.

And the whole Midwest America, Columbia, Shanghai thing is a thing of beauty.  As local Caminohead Catherine said lately, “the heart knows no distance”.   We are buoyed up by this showing of care in an often brutal world.  Let’s keep it up gang!

Yes, and the rain here was refreshing but not enough to go deep.  Ah, worrying about my corn is also a thing of beauty.  And the sunflowers are starting to produce their flowers.  Yup, it’s all happening!  Thanks for Shanghaing my heart, Felipe.

I am going to ask something of you.  Our Pilgrim Farmer John, who we love and adore,  has a good Camino buddy by the name of Clara who has just received bad news.  She is in deep distress after receiving a cancer diagnosis.   Clara lives in Columbia and buddies could be anywhere, as we know and appreciate.

Caminoheads has promised PFJ that we would pray for, think of, support and send our love to Clara.  She needs strength to endure and understanding to know that everything will work out for her healing.   But right now with a fresh diagnosis the natural tendency is to be full of worry and we could help to reduce that right away.

Yes, we are part of the cloud of believers/the flow of pilgrims.  We are in amoungst.  We are vital components.  We are connected all.  Her name is Clara.  Love, Felipe.

I am not trying to bring you something morbid but something truly joyful.  Organically joyful, bubbling up from the depths joyful, it was always there but you just realized it joyful, all that.  Oop, have to go photograph roses, perfect light, see what I mean?

So, where were we?   All of a sudden I am deep in thinking about the Cancer Camino and maybe trying to separate things from the Camino Camino or from the Catholic Camino.  It reminds me of being questioned by my oncologist and trying to separate chemo related side effects from the bumps and scraps of everyday life, hard to do sometimes.   Things get entwined (beautiful word) or maybe they were born together long ago, all in the same litter.

But even though, I think that my cancer was a amazing catalyst for change.  Dealing with it has been dealing with death.  Not death as an impersonal creature but the personal variety.   I am thankful for that.  I have made peace with it and I feel secure.

Yesterday in the quote from Peter Kreeft’s book was the phrase “post mortem life”  and that sounds strange at first glimpse and I feel the need to explain.  What he is referring to is the point where one dies in a certain sense but not physically and goes on to have a new chance or second life so to speak.  A new life with realizations; real reality realizations!

I hope that I am making slight sense.  So, encountering the dragon Cancer (and surviving  so far) has been a vital learning experience.  And I don’t feel like it is my duty, my place, my my to kill it or conquer it or anything it.  I have sat at it’s feet and learned.

Time to go, love, Felipe.

I’ve been reading Peter Kreeft’s (published ’92) “Love is Stronger than Death”.   There are some pages in it that really strike home.   I want to write about that because it might start to explain things, things about me and things about the Cancer Camino.

Here is a paragraph that I am going to copy so you can read it:  “One very important aspect  of post-mortem life is that everything gets doubly precious, gets piercingly important.  You get stabbed by things, by flowers and by babies and by beautiful things – just the very act of living, of walking and breathing and eating and having friends and chatting.  Everything seems to look more beautiful rather than less, and one gets the much intensified sense of miracles.”  Kind of sounds like my morning.  Well, that is a little jokie but I think that in general it  is what I have experienced for the last few years.

Post- mortem life translates to life after a point when a person could have well died as in after dodging a bullet.   Some of this is conscious as in,  ‘Man, it feels good to be alive!” and some seems to just be present otherwise.   Anyway, just what I am thinking about today.  More insights to come out of this book I am sure.  Thanks for being here for me, love, Felipe.

Boy, full bore summer here in the Northwest.  I walked the trail this morning but before that I was out watering the corn.  And at one point I had to stop and try and figure out what I was hearing.  It was like the sound of a freeway in the distance maybe it isn’t even visible but it is that hum, constant hum.   No freeway here though.  But it was the bees attracted by our hawthorn hedge that surrounds the south pasture.  The more than thousand foot of it is just humming.  Check the pix that I took of the blossoms.  It will be all red berries (haws) later and feed the robins and waxwings and last half the winter.

I walked my Camino this morning three times and said the rosary three times.  I’ve been tending to binge it lately.  It is probably better to do it once daily but I am trying this.  Praying for all the wishes, thank yous, hopes and intentions embodied in the rock pile here left by fellow pilgrims.  And I did pick up and use the rosary lent to me by a friend; it belonged to his father.  And there is a connection between his dad and my dad so it is meaningful.

They were both World War Two vets, members of the “greatest generation”.   They didn’t know each other in life but are both with God now maybe talking over this exact thing.  World War Two was a Camino that they shared.  And I know that they both participated together in the Battle of Okinawa at least.  My dad was an Army medic holding together broken bodies on shore.   At the same time Bill’s dad was a naval officer assigned to a destroyer serving picket duty.   Picket duty was where small ships were patrolling far out from the land battle sounding the warning if enemy aircraft approached.  That sounds a little too mild.  The reality is by this time in the war those aircraft were kamikazes and the picket ships were ready targets for them also.   My father was protected by Bill’s Father and in my hand is the rosary that protected them both.  We do stand on the shoulders of giants in all sorts of ways and levels.

Yup, so, off to my day.  I had volunteered a year ago to rebuild this little pouch that holds the old rosary and today seems like a good day to get a start on it.  OK, you guys are the best, Felipe.