April 30, 2006

Watching

I spent time with my sangha yesterday, Chenrezig, Amitabha, chanting, listening, thinking. Our sangha is studying The Essence of Buddhism by The Venerable 9th Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche. It's taken our sangha 2 months to get through 21 pages. Yesterday we began chapter 3, Meditation. The book is so good, each paragraph worthy of contemplation. Often it's the discussion after the reading that opens so many doors and prompts so much more contemplation on my part.

Yesterday we read a brief description of shamatha meditation. Shamatha is silent sitting meditation where you try to focus the mind on your breath. When thoughts arise, as they will, you just label them "thinking" and let go of them. It's not always easy to do. There are times I find myself deep into a fantasy before I remember to shut it down and focus again on the breath.

When I can focus on my breath and not engage in daydreams I become aware of my thoughts as thoughts. They flow freely, unsolicited. I let them pass. It's almost like sitting on a train and looking out the window. The train is moving rapidly and you're not allowing your eye to focus on anything in particular. Just watching the essence of the scenery go by. You can notice when there are trees, or mountains, or dessert, but not individual trees or mountains. After meditation I'm often struck by the degree to which my thoughts center on me, my importance in the world, or my lack of importance. My self centeredness becomes apparent, my paranoia and greed embarrass me.

Post meditation is often a humbling experience. Having spent 10 - 20 minutes alone with my own mind watching the seeds of insanity that have driven my behavior throughout the 54 years of my time here, I'm amazed that I have managed to survive this lifetime this long. Insanity is not too harsh a word. The thought that I am the most important person on this planet is an insane one. And yet, I, and billions of others, do just that. Everyday. My earlier post about the state of the country and my distress about that is the end product of such ego centricity. Even in deploring the results, it is my own distress of it that is most important to me. It is the endless circle: I think this, I feel this, I do this, which makes me think this, feel this, do this, which makes me think this, feel this, do this...

Better to sit quietly and watch my breathing and label my mental halucinations as thinking. Better to just sit and not think (read dwell), not feel (read wallow), not act (read react). Better to just watch.

April 27, 2006

Scrap IT

I haven't written in several weeks. I have a variety of excuses and reasons. I've been busy at work, zapping my energy, I've been busy in my life, zapping my energy, I've been focusing on artwork, completing 9 pieces in 2 weeks, thereby zapping my energy.

Aside from being stressed and busy and then exhausted, I think I am also numb with disbelief, anger, and a sense of overwhelm by the news of the day, every day. The level of dishonesty and incompetence by our government is frightening and enough to drive me into a severe case of apathy. There is no way of getting away from it. It effects our lives everyday.

There are some things the government does that we can't always see in detail. Farm subsidies to large food corporations, pork spending projects, undefined defense spending. Then there are the things we can see clearly: Gas prices that effect every one, rich or poor; men and women dying, daily, in foreign lands for confusing, unclear reasons; tax breaks for oil companies that bilk the American people and earn billions quarterly in profits; elected officials and political appointees that commit crimes and bend and bastardize laws to fit their own agendas and personal greed; a President who is so over his head and beyond his skill level that after 6 six years in office his ineptitude is reflected in every aspect of American life.

Today the Senate panel reviewing FEMA has recommended scrapping the agency:

"Our first and most important recommendation is to abolish FEMA," said Maine Republican Sen. Susan Collins, chairwoman of the Senate Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee. "FEMA is discredited, demoralized, and dysfunctional. It is beyond repair. Just tweaking the organizational chart will not solve the problem."

Well, that's festive, on the eve of hurricane season. No FEMA or a useless, dysfunctional FEMA. Never before in the history of the USA has FEMA been more needed. Scientists have recently reported that global warming is indeed a problem in the here and now, not the future, and as a result the tumultuous and extreme weather of the past will continue and worsen. We will see more Katrinas. We will see more cities destroyed. We will see more Americans suffer and die with no reliable relief or protection.

That brings up the issue of apathy. Apathy, as defined by the American Heritage Dictionary means:
"1. Lack of interest or concern, esp. in important matters. 2. Lack of emotion; impassiveness."
I'm not apathetic as I am greatly concerned. I'm not without emotion as despair is clearly an emotional state. But I am overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness not unlike the hopelessness expressed by the Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee today. I'm trying to put it aside. Not let it effect me. Not let it drain my energy or my enthusiasm for living. Trying to put it on the back burner -- until Tuesday, November 7, 2006.

April 9, 2006

Loving Kindness

I had a very interesting experience yesterday. That's an understatement. What I actually had was the privilege of witnessing a moving, loving, and very emotional interaction that took place between two families.

Frankye and I were invited by our neighbors, Wayne and Roxanne, to attend a ceremony at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints here in Jacksonville. The occasion was the turning over of a newborn infant from the birth mother, their mentally impaired daughter Kerri, to the adopting parents.

Kerri, who is mentally impaired due to a childhood illness, is extremely child like. She lives alone in a little cottage within walking distance of her parents. She comes to visit them daily and still does chores and errands for them. She also has the "job" of wheeling our garbage cans down the dirt road lane the night before garbage pick-up and then returning them to our house after they are emptied. Kerry is loving, kind, and a very gentle soul. She got pregnant as a result of an encounter she had with a co-worker of her father's, who was a trusted family friend. She gave birth last Thursday, 5 weeks prematurely, while visiting an older Mormon friend. She had the baby on the woman's couch.

Just to say a little about Wayne and Roxanne. They are our neighbors, people we would probably not encounter in any other way. They are quiet, mind their own business, friendly, helpful and a bit outside the mainstream. Wayne has 4 children, 3 of whom are mentally impaired. His eldest son is married and has 2 lovely children. They are Mormons. They have never proselytized. For 4 of the 6 years we have known him Wayne kept his red hair in a long, thick ponytail. A robust, barrel chested man, he looked like a biker, sans tattoos.

Frankye and I had no idea what to expect yesterday. Neither of us had ever been to a Mormon Temple. Neither of us knew whether or not this ceremony was a Mormon practice or something unusual. All we knew was that Wayne had made it a point to come over and invite us to attend, and he never comes over unless it's something important. We decided that if it was important enough to Wayne for him to extend the invitation then we would go. And we did. And we were so happy we went.

We went into the Temple and were directed to a small conference room. There were seats set up in an arc around a podium. There was a table set to the side with a variety of cakes and pastries and beverages. There were about 30 people there. Wayne opened the ceremony by introducing an older woman who said an opening prayer. It turns out that she was the older woman whom Kerri was visiting when she gave birth. Then Wayne spoke.

Wayne is a reserved man. I use that word because he does not wear his emotions openly and is not very animated. It was clear he was very emotional. He read a statement he had written, because, as he said, he didn't think he could successfully get through it without notes.

Wayne proceeded to welcome guests, singling out the adopting family and then began to talk about the circumstances under which Kerri had become pregnant. While clearly hurt and angered by the actions of his friend, the most vile thing he said about this man was that he visited Kerri's cottage late one evening "like a thief in the night." Whether Kerri consented to his advances or not, is not known, but this man was knowledgeable about Kerri's limitations and clearly took advantage of her. By any measure, Kerri's baby was conceived through rape.

In a moving and often emotionally halting speech Wayne told the story of how Kerri made the decision to give up her child for adoption. He talked about the pain his family has gone through during this period, he talked about the comfort of supportive friends and about the gift that this child is to both his family and to the adoptive family. The love and compassion he expressed extended not only to his daughter, granddaughter, friends and the adopting family, but to the "perpetrator of the events bringing forth the activities today." He fought back tears throughout his eloquent statement and I wept openly while I listened.

I was so moved by the gentle, loving way this family was handling this difficult, painful experience. Wayne explained that he didn't care if this was an usual way of dealing with this event. He felt that the birth of this baby, and the gift of her to a new family, desperate to have another child, was to be celebrated, not hidden, not secretly transacted and never spoken of again. He was so right.

After Wayne spoke, a friend of his spoke about the friendship between his and Wayne's family. The adopting father got up and spoke and barely was able to get through speaking of his gratitude to Kerri and her family. He wept openly and appreciatively. Then Kerri got up and spoke briefly, and in her simple manner told how she knew the adopting family could be far better parents to this infant then she could. She said it was a hard decision to make and she made it after seeing a movie on television about a young girl growing up without a father. She presented the adopting parents with a white baby blanket she had purchased for them that was embroidered in white satin with the words "God's Gift of Love." A Mormon elder said a closing prayer and then refreshments were served.

Needless to say I was exhausted at the end of it. I was also surprised to learn as we were introduced to people that many of them knew of Frankye and I being neighbors of Wayne and Roxanne and that many knew that Kerri "worked" for us taking our garbage down the lane. Mostly, I felt very grateful to have been included in this extemely personal, but very open interaction between strangers that concerned the most important thing in the world, the future of a 2 day old child. I know that sounds corny as hell, but witnessing such raw emotions handled in the most loving way I have ever experienced was a true gift.

April 3, 2006

Home From the Hills

Back home and adjusting to the flatlands of Florida after a week in the mountains of North Carolina. Frankye and I spent a lovely week at the Kanuga Conference Center with the Kanuga Watercolor Workshop. I took a class in acrylic painting with an accomplished artist by the name of Rick McDiarmid. Rick is a sweet man and an encouraging and knowledgable teacher. I enjoyed being in his class.

This is the 3rd year we went to Kanuga. I enjoy it so much but do not come home rested. I am rested mentally and emotionally, but not physically. Physically I am challenged in a way I am rarely challenged in my usual life. I walk up and down stairs and up and down hills, and across dirt and plod along rocky paths. Actually I did much better than I thought I would and better than I did last year. I did better this year with no phone and no tv also.

I love making pictures and doing art but my life does not afford me the opportunity to make art 6 - 8 hours a day 5 days a week. When I go to a weeklong workshop I am both exhausted by the focus on art making and exhilerated by it. I ended each day tired and excited. I brought my laptop with me and each evening Frankye and I watched an episode of "Prime Suspect" on DVD that I borrowed from the library. It was just enough entertainment to chill out the creative exhaustion I felt each night.

So now it is Monday and I am back at work. I was ready to come back. Well, that's a lie. I could have used a few more days, then I would have been ready. But it's ok. I like my work and I love the agency I work for and so coming to work is a feel good thing, not a stress thing.