Survival not a Negation

Recently my Mom expressed some displeasure over the fact I don’t celebrate Christmas. I do give gifts for the family, but pretty much have abandoned all the rest of the trappings. This came about first by childhood traumas around the holiday and a two years preceding that, back then, when I got a total kick in teeth rejection from a new Christian youth group I had joined when I told one guy that I was gay. This all formulated a survival instinct by dissing all religions as exclusionary and hateful, so not a negation of my mother or her life. She held the power of love even when things made no sense, and left this to me.  It wasn’t like religion was forced on us, but some circumstances in my life besides that of being gay I had to toughen up to get past them and survive.  Not a wholly unique experience, but it was of course tailor made for my awakening and settling down to meditation and the Buddha’s teachings leading to more compassion. Learning to have compassion for myself, first and then develop it for others. Surviving was at times excruciating painful, producing tons of doubts and sarcasm about life.

Meditating later in life became a way of dissolving many of my delusions. The icing on the cake for surviving (written especially for younger gays) was meeting my husband who has further taught me naturally Buddha’s teachings with his own experience along the way. He also has remarked that few people when they are older… change, but that I have, of course with his love and inspiration. Combined with some powerful intention built out of suffering the outcomes of my former self. Use your mistakes to further your growth on the path, for they are so designed to allow you to fail and find the need to change. Fall down, get up, dust yourself off...and proceed.

Help or Hinderance?

I bring this subject up to remind myself one of the many errors I possess. Oftentimes, we or I should say, I offer help to others when they don’t really want it when they engage us only as an ear. Friends rarely say, 'What should I do?" They might imply that, once told of their problem, knowing you would chirp in your fix. But trying to fix someone without walking in their shoes is damn near impossible. Silence comes in handy, being there to listen and be concerned. I know I have to quit trying to “fix others,” if only to acknowledge that my way is not always right. I can instead say, when asked, what I would do. Personally, for myself, but it can never replicate their particular conundrum. My near death brought me closer to being human, and actually further away from god status. That is where Buddha’s teachings can answer anyone’s questions about the frailties of life much better than I can. It comes with introspection as to why we act as we do, holding so close that “I” that is us and makes us feel so different from others. Photographed here is Avalokiteshvara, the embodiment of the compassion of all the Buddhas, whos thousand arms reach out to aid all the sentient beings sufferings.

A Peaceful Talk

A friend asked me to go to another organization’s Dharma talk and meditation that fit better in his busy schedule. Of course, I said yes, but watched quietly on my internal chatter. In that space between my ears, I heard myself debating whether it would be as good as my current teacher who has 30 years experience direct from a well-respected Tibetan monk. I fought quietly my dismissals of pre-conceived ideas of how it would be, and forced myself to go openhearted. I knew the organization's stature in the community and heard of them for years. We arrived early thinking there would be some Chi gong warm-ups first. The church that held these talks, also houses and feeds homeless so we walked in just as they were entering for the night and settling down. After a quick look around we found out the warm-ups were cancelled, so I said lets meditate until they start the session.

Sitting down in the back of an old, cold, gothic church, I pulled my hood over my head, since I have short hair to keep it warm. Starting to meditate, using the idea of relaxing expectations, so in the 40 minutes it took to start the session, I was fully relaxed. In a poof of smoke most all of my reservations left, so I could easily settle in for their mediation before the talk. People quietly entered and some sat in pews, and a few sat on the floor. I know people get attached to “their” spot wherever it might lie, so I watched and let most everyone settle in, then took a space left in the side aisle. Another 40 minutes breezed by, without me every having to move, primed from my earlier meditation with hardly a thought coming to mind, but the chill of the church. When they broke the meditation, I moved to a pew totally focused on whatever this new dharma teacher had to say, taken by his calmness and forethought that was maintained throughout the teaching . He spoke on one of Buddha’s teachings to monks about letting it be, and just watching every feeling that arises. Whatever it may be. I was happy knowing that if just one person is helped then it really doesn't matter who the teacher is. The teacher never misspoke or guessed, and upon completion answered questions from people. I watched when three different members asked questions and looking around it became quite obvious the suffering aura the room carried with it. I am not saying I above suffering by no means, more of the awareness of the commonalities we all share living this human life. Perhaps, I am just lucky to see at this instance to see my suffering takes a seat behind all others.

My new quote that I hope has never been expressed anywhere:
“If you are no longer a man of your word,
how can you maintain the belief in yourself?”

Does it Always Have to be Spoken?

I was at temple discussing a part of Buddha Dharma after a teaching. I was trying to express myself, but like I do quite often, pick words easier for people to understand coming from me than the correct word. We were discussing Buddha’s ultimate truth, which alone is a difficult one for anyone to fully comprehend. I may have said the wrong word, and the person I was talking to probably did not know my intention. But I have somewhat relaxed on being misunderstood as it comes with the territory of my brain injury. Everything is an appearance to our mind. I have noticed in long meditations that I am just what I have in my mind, and the minute I am able to clear it out ...I just exist. In fact, I even sometimes lose the attachment to my breath. But the thing that came to mind was if it is an ultimate truth why does it have to be spoken? If is truly an ultimate truth, then one should be able to be taught, by the pure intention of your teacher or guru. That is providing one in is the correct space both mentally and physically to receive this lesson or any others. In the past I have met realized monks, that at times have felt their pure intention but not being in the correct mental space did fully understand what they were trying to communicate. Nonetheless, I still was changed by the experience of their presence and it was done without any spoken words between us. In one instance years ago, I was blessed by a monk in an ancient Khmer site, and it took me over an hour to get back into my body. I was as empty as space and only now think it might have been a teaching. This helped to start me on my path when I returned. I visited a new friend, who suggested I meditate with him for an hour, having never done it. Surprisingly, I had carried the wish to do so, strongly in my heart and completed it to his and my total amazement. So I have heard that a prayer is a heartfelt wish, so was that monks blessing was a wish or a teaching?

Prisoner of Our Own Thoughts

I was recalling Monday all day Tuesday. Mainly, because it was an important event whenever you see a friend that still loves you. Well, on the way home transferring buses, I ran into a guy who is homeless that I see ever so often. He looks kind of Cro-magnon, and carries himself like dangerous person. When I first saw him years ago, I would avoid him to the point of walking across the street. At that time I figured he was mentally ill, and a bit violent. In reflection it is probably self-preservation on the street. Later in time, with the things I learned with Buddha’s teaching I had relaxed enough to say “Hi” whenever I saw him. Regardless what mood he is in. Well, guess who walked up to me while waiting for the bus with two books in his hands? Him. One book he had was a hard cover literary horror book with great well-known illustrations. He was showing me the book, and even liked the high quality work. He did not want to sell it to me, but he wanted to give it to me. I was not present in the moment, and said why don’t you sell it to get money? He kept showing the book and again offered it to me unconditionally. Sure I did not need it, but his intent was honest and good…and I was being an idiot in my own world wanting to get home quick. A day later I said to myself I would be doing the best for him by just taking the book and honoring his pure intent. I know now I owe him an apology when I see him next, my wisdom was playing hooky that day. Love does not always come in the form we expect especially when we are guarded. Tonight, I took more sealed lunches (left for me by my crossing guard angel) that I heated down to people I found hungry on the street. It was easy to find hungry guys not too far away. The oil painting is done by my friend mentioned in Monday's post. Dedicated to Michele, a homeless advocate.