When Fruits become Ripe

In a matter of time, all depending on how much you let go and your individual karma, begins to see fruit of your practice. I just sat another 10-day Vipassana, to qualify for my 30-day coming up. This one makes 8 of the 10-days, 3 of the Satipatthana courses, a 20-day with service work as well in the past 5 years. In this sit it quickly dove deeper to uncover more ancient mental formations, kind of deeper than the last 20-day I sat. I see why this is a requirement before a 30-day, one learns to download faster like it did or me on day 1. Appearing abstractly in dreams at night, but also bearing fruit when you are able to have enough equanimity in your sits. Unfolding naturally, especially when I stopped trying to run away in mind, or moving away in discomfort. I am not perfect, so the best I can be is more aware. I also made a firm intention not to plan to walk as much or do yoga to plan some mental icing on the cake for sitting for this 10-day at this time. I am beginning to know my mental tricks to run away from was right happening right now. This provided to allow me much more joy in dreams at night even abstractly based on fears and delusions. One dream, in particular, was my partner joking about my reactions to 4 windows broken out in my imaginary loft in a way in which he coaches me in real life. I laughed in the dream at how he is unaffected by my moods and quickly recovered to a more rational mind space.  I am well aware of how lucky I am in life to be with him. Also one day in my cell meditating, and obviously not occupying my body at this time we had an earthquake, and at first not knowing what it was that “threw” me back into my body, I was kind of disoriented until the aftershock occurred shortly afterward. Then I was thinking should I stay in my cell or not?... being back in the mind of fear, our normal state of me.

Now, this 10-day vipassana was also the clearest one, where I was there still the same person that I am at home. I was not running away, but running to who I am, and the knowledge that my wisdom gained from life and past sits guided me to uncover more or need to.  The residuals show me that me a little more has been retained when back home, but still being a work in progress with bi-lateral strokes and aphasia that makes normal take on a new meaning. Perhaps, I am now finally dropping the idea that anyone else can really know what is like to live in another’s body?

Tricked Out of Wholeness

One of the biggest fears people have is in the case of an accident, or your body has illness or any life-changing event…they will be rendered useless by not being whole. This fear is based on a delusion springing out of their mind, and I was just one of those people until my brain injury provided necessary actual life experience to bust it all up. With this comes the flood back of new fears once the dust settles to fill this huge hole in your ego's assemblage. And that also is not seen at first, because it happens naturally based on your individual conditioning. I had a new fear arise out of complications of communicating by telephone around a particular screw-up around health care of not my doing. I found in naps and at night I would cry out, “No, No, NO!” while having wild dreams.

Yet , I had not encountered what I feared, yet or even close. It was totally silly, and my guess it was based again on not having a clear enough picture of my future. A future that is based solely on thought, since it has never was experienced or will be, since life plays out what it has in store for you later, unattached to any ideas you carry around. Many times you will see that these fears have a similar root base that plays out like a broken record over and over, again. So before you get hooked on a fear, just sit back and watch the mind at work and see what really, is the problem. Perhaps, you get into the bad habit of linking multiple imaginary fears as the mind spins out of control?  Our mind likes to do this, a habit of thinking and not just existing. So, close your eyes, breathe and relax...watch…you will not see the world collapse in blazing glory. “You” are whole now and even when life throws a wrench(any wrench), despite what you may think. 

Dreams Vs. Reality

I have had two successive nights of dreams about meditation. It appeared to my mind as a separate existence, a refined and peaceful place marked as beyond a huge beautifully carved teak divider. In the dream, I marked each time I sat in invisible gel I painted on the divider. I marveled at how as it dried, it disappeared. It probably points to that fact that even with all the years, my practice has not fully manifested in daily life. Not in a bad way. I don’t appear to others as supremely relaxed, much in part to the difficulties processing that my brain injury has affected me. Of course, I am markedly better than I was 10 years ago, and life is a process where one is never done. A few people have noticed changes and it particular my partner. These dreams don’t smack of desires unfulfilled but more a sign of how the brain has divided my meditation experience vs. day-to-day living. I can hope that these two will merge closer, perhaps at the moment of death. So be it.

Then, last night, my third night I had dreams about people close to me that died young, and they came back to make jokes with me about my older body versus when they knew me. It was pleasant and welcoming sign of getting closer to existing like them.  It never appeared as a nightmare, and they were very friendly and fun dreams. I even woke with the desire to call them. When people young die close to you and often faster than expected(20 and 30’s) you scramble to figure out your own existence masking your hurt at the time. I had fortified myself to appear stronger than what was felt internally. These things come out as you meditate, often in a good way….a natural cry of release of all you held back. This is not happening now but did the first couple years of long retreats. Now, anything I would have held back in the past is felt immediately and reacted upon. For those that don’t meditate you don’t become helpless, you instead, become freer.

A New Clearing

Enjoying the jet lag, combined with my dreams where one can't figure out where one starts and the other one ends. It was interesting for me bringing up a difficult time of the past, and feeling very resolved about it which in turn stimulated a dream of wonder and beauty merging several snippets of my past. I am writing this while my partner sleeps besides me, a gentle symbol of his relaxation that everything will be O.K. with our upcoming marriage and his new life, soon in USA.

Many years ago, I worked in advertising and our group formed a company within a company. I worked hard and long hours and was paid pretty well. It was kind of exciting if you could find a client let us do what we were good at, high concept smart and fun packaging and collateral. My mentor was an interesting man only 10 years my senior, and I thought we bonded. So, I put in a lot of hours, and weekends while having a partner at the time, who was aware of what was happening and said they are just using you up. It wasn't self-serving, but I just didn't listen deeply because we had other problems unrelated.   Since I was doing so well, I decided now was the time to buy a house. I had a small down from my father's early death the year before, and knowing that my job was never permanent I had better get in while I can. This is was a motivation to working so hard.  I looked near and far for the best for my money, adding a commute that was longer than my apt. Once I got my first place I needed more time to spend on fixing it up, since it was kind of raw. I began to leave work at what would be my normal quit time, and not work late nights all the time.

Earlier in the year at work we had a meeting about our little company, and was told we have retirement accruing separate from the main company. That was dangled over me to spur me to work long days and weekends. Well, you can pretty much guess that at about the time I took initiative to work more normal days, we lost a client and I got pulled in to be the sacrificial cow. It lost my job at a weak point when the economy was still struggling after an earthquake and normal malaise, which seems to follow most of my life. There was no retirement I found out, nor bonus for all the hard work, which added to the shock. Here I am struggling to pay a new mortgage, and slim jobs. There is much more to this story, but I will leave them out because it is not part of this signifiant release in my dreams.

Fast forward trying to recover from brain injury with speech being nearly non-existent and motor skills heavily compromised, I had a meeting with my ex-boss from that advertising job and he gave a few small gifts. I was still a bit pathetic, so I would see some interesting reactions. It was early on in my healing process and I was still steeped in anger as to "why me?" Plus, having lost my partner during this time I was raw and trying to find some of my old power. I wrote a letter to that old boss saying these little gifts are a far cry from the retirement promised to me. I wanted someone to blame and share my misery with and he just happened to be in the right place and right time.

I took off with an older female workmate to Mexico, to relax and heal after I wrote this letter. One evening on the beach, I broke down about what I was left with brain wise. A really good wailing cry with someone I felt I could trust. Looking back these were all things I had to experience to get them out of the way. Anger and despair need to be eliminated so that one could then settle on what you have at the present moment and cement that the past is totally gone. She had understood what were the issues that caused my break-up, and it was done to spare my partner my misery my first year back. It was never understood by him, because it removed him from a role he is used to of taking care of disabled adults. I just wasn’t going to give all my power up in a time of weakness. Some real purging that trip, and came back fresh and ready to get busy with speech. Upon returning, I was driving her car for the first time when I realized that I had so many deficits with my paralysis that left me unable to see to the right. So, I had her drive and we talked about a letter I received from my ex-boss because she worked with him at one time. I was so upset that he said in the letter, "I am not your father!" and didn’t quite understand how much my father factored in to so much of my misery. Also in his letter was a long-winded explanation about the supposed retirement. He had moved on but obviously I hadn’t.

I tore that letter up and threw it over the bridge we were driving over that day with my friend, but it stayed with me until last nights dream when it was all released.  I can’t do justice to how good this felt, but it spurred the next dream woven of past memories.

I went to the corner of a room to drink out of a water fountain. This was from when I was 17 working in an art gallery, which taught art classes in back and had this old water fountain with the handle coated in various colored paints from over the years. This alluded to all the artists in the gallery and were also the teaching staff. I am sure you know the kind of fountain that are square and about 3 ft tall with a stainless steel drain on top and a flip handle in the corner. Near a door opening which opened on to the galley. I saw a wide pictorial view like a wall had been blow out of the gallery that left the walls left and right. There were several artists trying to figure out an inventive way to close it up,  but because it was a beautiful beach, ocean, cloud view they did not want to totally close it up. The view was more or less from my recent trip to Sri Lanka(I’ll include a few in this post). The team had worked into the gallery wall a horizontal window strip top and bottom, so it looked like you could walk on water while seeing clouds above. No readers, I don't have Jesus complex. Then while taking a sip of water from that fountain and talking to the team, who had come up with a way to paint the wall using the same colors in my photograph, and their hands dipped in paint, cotton and sand to give the wall tactile mystery. I am sadly leaving out much more of the dream, but you know how detailed dreams ...seem to be. That is enough to know that what I held on for so many years about my father has been finally dusted in a dream of creativity through a clearing of my held-on traumas. This was the tail end of the fingers woven into my life.

My main point in telling you some of my past is to help others understand there is a natural process when anything really significant happens in your life. I had lost my brain, my house, my job and someone I still love all in the period of a couple of short years. One has to go through disbelief, anger, depression(although not a fan of basking in it), before you can get to acceptance and access your full healing potential. I would often have denial of the pain caused by others rejecting me when I spoke, only using it to spur on more personal work. My recent foray into M.B.L. helped to release any leftover traumas held in my body and helped to facilitate this latest release. This leaves me with less desire to escape by “doing something” to occupy the busy mind.

Dreams of Letting Go

They say that some dreams for tell the future, but this one leads to believe that I have a good idea of where my progress in Dhamma will lead me. One night I dreamt that I sold my house and moved into a smaller apartment. So vivid and clear of the room and the place, and was not without some color, fun and views. And the best way to describe where I was in the dream it is location that seems like is a mish mash of Tibet style, Mexican, San Franciscan architecture. So in last night’s dream, me and several other sangha members(some with faces I recognize and some I do not) all came to a place to symbolically burn an item that represents our tie to the material world. Once burned we could move up to a higher level in an apartment building that was fashioned in my dream as kind of city like resting in terraces on hills, with spiritual seekers like Buddhists and others. A nice mix of colorful people old and young, working towards a common goal that was not too defined in my dream. It was a festive and light-hearted dream.

Tharlam Monastery, Boudha, Kathmandu, Nepal

I chose to burn a gold ring that is a “marriage band” that my partner and I have identical copies of. This was not to symbol any lessening of our bond, because deep down we know that nothing can symbolize what we carry in our hearts. It was more a concrete symbol of material wealth that we often think seems very permanent and unchanging. In the dream I was wondering how we can make the heat high enough in the fire to burn gold and platinum since this was happening within a building with others around. Others chose more flammable cloth, and papers, but you know me …I chose the most difficult kind of item to firmly make this transition stick in my mind. I know deep down that we really do not own anything, more like a life-time loan no matter how valuable it is to us.

During the dream there was no desires for it to be different, or feeling uncomfortable …it was I more of the curiosity and playfulness of those around me. The colors of my surroundings and the people in my dream were interesting and diverse. A few people were around me asking about how I will burn the ring? I said what you do is you imagine them casting the ring from the wax mold in beginning. Using my imagination while the ring is in the fire, it began to melt away like wax all the individual bands of gold and platinum to the surprise of those watching. Down to the main band, which shattered with the heat in two, then finally dissolved in ash.

All photos: Wonderlane

I rose from my knees from the fire, and was allowed up the elevator to the higher apartments. Arrived at a bigger one than in the previous nights dream. I saw another woman from my sangha smiling, leading me to a large window where she had taken the glass out, enabling us to comfortably lean out the window. We were kneeled down all along with several other people, laid cloth on the sill and peered below to view a whole choreographed number with Buddhist teachers and students that involved green cloths in both the robes and flags. It kind of was like spiritual procession full of lightness and was definitely not somber. This is the best overview I can pull out of it, and it just seems like the dreams were a symbol of some kind of spiritual progression for me. If not, at least it was fun.

My Secret Dream Penthouse

I had a recurring dream I have perhaps once a year, last night. Always, a bit new. It consists of accessing and going to a secret tiny penthouse that I only have the keys. With 360 degrees windows in a small room, that you have to access though a wild set of dark passages, sometimes crawling up through. Now, I have set here trying to figure out where it exists in my memory bank of past experiences, and the best I can come up with is a mish-mash of details. It appears so clear to me at times and especially in my dream that I could spend hours rewinding the mental tape piecing it all together. I have had in the past keys to buildings, some of which had unfinished penthouses. I would go sometimes to get a view at night, at off hours and many times after I quit working, in said building. I have always had grand daydreams as well as those at night. Raw industrial size office buildings while I worked in the floors below. And I have seen some cool lofts made out of old brick buildings that I have gone to parties in. The image that fits the dream that comes close was the rooftop of a tiny studio apartment building I had in my early 20’s with nice views of downtown. I can, now, hours after I am awake, travel back to crawling up passages to show some people what other rooms I have. Knowing that they really don’t exist, and are composed of several other dreams. It amazes me and stops time. The lights are on, and yes, somebody is still home.

If You Don't Believe...

With the lyrics “If you don’t believe all the nights while you are gone, I sighed for ya” going through my head when I went to sleep and jumped into one of my crazy dreams. With a set of pointy ears, I was involved in a strange game in a multi-level house. I got the ears as a gift that I made it past the man upset because I pulled a WWII vintage nickel of his collection of stuff I was sorting for him and put in different box. I was helping to sort through all his stuff to get rid of some and sell some. He thought I should have thrown in with the rest of his junk. I do have the eye, so I only made him more money. He gave the set of pointy Spock ears had gathering dust, so much in fact that were like flocked. I took them away and proceeded to play a game in a huge compted house. By that I mean it was faked, the floors were painted paper stick down and the walls foam core board just like I used create packages before they were signed off on and produced. In this fake house was a boy with me tickled by jumping up and down on the floor where the paper did not stick down well. We were play chasing each other like hide and seek, a favorite children’s game of mine. I had him laughing at my ears, too. I was buzzed from coffee I had, that was dispensed in lip-gloss containers with a flavor like Blueberry Chiapas coffee. That you would make by swirling the applicator saturated when you dipped it into the holder and placing in hot water. This dream goes on and on and may be a sign of intelligent life just waiting for a good idea to emerge. Thanks, Deniece Williams for the inspiration.

B is for Brain

What if you are reading a book, and you find yourself dragging out finishing it. I find this happening now and am wondering if what is this fear of not wanting to put it to bed. It feels like a small death. But, you say, why and when there are so many good books to read? Why I am being so foolish? I don’t know, if I keep it going, diving back into a faraway place and out, I may somehow will make me that think that life doesn’t end. But I know even more so now that my end is closer than the beginning was. I even dreamt about this a few times at night. And I thought that I would live forever. Damn fool! I am still a bit pissed about this, because even since I was a kid watching all the science miracles and cryonics, I thought by now they have figured out a way to put your brain in a new body. Fat chance, and even if they could with my luck and my brain, it would end up being worse than what I have now. And who really wants an old damaged brain in a young body… eeeks! Kids are going up too fast as it is! So back to my book, I know deep down this can’t be the cause that I am just not setting aside enough time for a brain injured person(me) to read. I can’t read on a bus or when it is noisy. Same with talking, the more input the harder conversation is, so I have to switch to being a listener more. There is always a positive spin on things. I was thinking about this while talking to a friend, as I get older I am more able to see the subtleties of life. The slight upward cadence of a person’s voice when they are happy to talk to you, as well as the slight downward tone that can be a wide variety of causes, from being busy to not happy to talk at this moment. As a listener, I see when people have to talk, even when there is nothing important to say. So, now I have to finish this smart book Finding Orwell In Burma, to change my perspective at this moment. We only really have this moment.

A Real Find

On the flight back, I settled in my aisle seat with an empty one next to it. Tell me the airlines are not hurting. I tried to read, but being too tired to, I put on music and watched the sun set on the Pacific. Looking around the plane at other empty seats, I thought that it was curious that they announced it would be a full fight. I guess that is American optimism for you. Then, my eye caught a glimmer down at my feet, I looked next to where the seats are anchored to the floor, and saw what I thought was a diamond. I calmly reached down to see if I could pick it up. At the same time I was already imagining selling it and dividing the proceeds in my head. Perhaps dividing it between my sister and my partner. The mind was on a trip, fantasizing, and it never involved turning it in. It was wedged pretty good in between the rug and where the seat anchor was, in a pile of dirt and dust. Like a carnival game I would try to pick it up and I would push it further away as my fingers where too big to tweezer it up. So I reached into my bag, and found my little keys to a luggage lock. I used it like a doll spoon to reach under it and pull it out of its hiding place. I was feeling very lucky which was a great distraction from the sadness of leaving my sister and nephew. I continued the mental calculation of size and potential worth as I brought it close to my eye. It was looking kind of dull for a diamond, so I placed in my hand in the sunlight streaming in the window all while maintaining my hope. Then as easily as I found it, it dropped behind the seat next to me. Clink! Lifting it up I peered under and saw nothing. I said to myself, why didn’t you put it in your pocket? Stupid! So not to look like a total idiot, I ordered a glass of wine,already spending the dream figuring I would find it under the seat on the floor after the folks behind me disembarked later.
I was drinking, and thinking, and waiting and waiting. I would vacillate between "spending the money", and cursing myself for dropping it. I even pondered the idea, that I should let it go, as with my luck it will probably turn out worthless. But you never know. Jeez, shut up brain and just relax. Looking between the seats to see behind my seat if those people caught my foolish move and heard the clink I heard. No, they were oblivious and in love…a nice older Hispanic couple. Good. Feeling slightly dumb, but still determined to get my jewel, I thought back to a time when I did find one, damaged on a cabin floor I was vacuuming at 19 yrs old. The clink that time made me empty the bag on the street digging through it until I found it. It was damaged either by the vacuum or the setting it fell out of. So much for tough diamonds. That one I ended up getting re-cut, and selling to finance my first apt in my city, when I moved here broke. So, back to the plane, we land smoothly and the folks get off behind me and I am trying to calculate how can I find it and not look like a terrorist planting a bomb. I jiggle the seat where the seat divides, using my plane ticket. Not there. Then following down where it was most likely to fall, and it was quietly resting in the same place on the opposite seat anchor next to the window. I quickly lifted the banding on the carpet and grabbing it, and putting it smartly in my pocket. I casually walked out with the passengers from the rear of the plane towards staring and curious, but polite stewards saying good-night. I got it! I arrived home from the airport to survey my new treasure. I put in down, got a loupe and quickly found that I had picked up a rhinestone. My dreams quickly vanished as fast as they just started an hour ago.

Now haven’t you had a similar experience that you build up in your mind as unsurmountable? And a year later when recalling the event, just seems trivial as a rhinestone? Approach life with some fore thought. Advance your mind to a time ahead when what you think at the present moment seems to big too handle. You will be surprised how easy you are able to move past hard times. I used this back when I was in the hospital with breathing tubes and doctors hovering around me with sour faces, imagining a time when I would travel again. And it came true because the real diamond is inside of us waiting to be found.

Dreams and Worries, Lucky Mak Mak

I have been trying as much as possible to get out of myself. You know the worry, the self-obsessed concern for ourselves? I spent Saturday doing things for others, going to lunch with my partner at one of his favorite places, buying him a better made shoulder bag for school knowing his last one fell apart in a year. While out and about we discussed his yearning for graduate school after he completes his bachelor’s degree at the end of this year. It was great to see him so enthusiastic, regardless of how hard these past two years have been with his crazy work schedule. Later in the day we in a joking mood and it carried for the afternoon during which I had some coffee while he had a shake. We returned to our place and knowing he was spent for the day, I left him to sleep and took off to shoot at night in Chinatown alone. I spent at least 5 hours shooting and walking, as it is hard to compose and focus when so much is interesting. If I can get 3 or 4 good photographs I feel accomplished. Towards the end of my shooting, I came upon a late night street sellers and food vendors, and found a great hand painted mug for my Buddhist teacher. Several times people would either shoe me away, or be curious and come watch me set-up and watch me shoot or offer to be in the shot. When I was feeling like my coffee from earlier was all spent, I grabbed a taxi back, to my awakened, smiling partner making sure I was ok.

That night I dreamt about an old friend who had come back to me after drinking poison in France to end his life to stay with me at my house, a true story. He has long since passed away, and it became more obvious why he came back to stay with me. In my dreams I looked at his life and loves, his parents never really loved him and nor his lovers . He was still bleeding out of mouth from the poison wounds when I saw him, and that I had to buy pillow covers special for his stay. His return was to the only love he once had, when we were together 10 years earlier even though he ended it abruptly back then. Now I realize you can’t love someone who doesn’t love themselves, and feel very fortunate to be with someone now who does with an eye on the future.

Shared View

I have been a bit busy, but never too busy to ponder ideas. Some ideas are fruitful for my business and some are just random desires and fears. I do wake-up with creative ideas of how to solve minor problems, and I wish it would work with major ones, as well. Can’t get too greedy. So my question is, does experience one has alone have any less importance than a shared experience? Looking at my solitary door to the ocean, it is as if was all a dream of mine especially now that it is past tense. Now shared, it can enter into your dreams whether directly by looking at it, or subconsciously later in nightly dreams. But, are we really looking for someone to share in our dreams and experience to bring meaning into our life? I chatted today with a client, about shared life experience and I am sure, if I felt as validated as she then I guess I hit on this. And this what we both wanted: to share pain, frustrations, humor and finally wisdom. Sure it goes back to my idea that we never really operate in a vacuum from an earlier post. That our human life is so important, especially when we relate to one another. This allows us to help others, hopefully. If we were more compassionate and open to the idea of being kind to others in listening and talking, we can share in their dreams. Thus doubling the occurrence of magical moments and lessening of the painful, disturbing ones.

Dreams Across Oceans

What happens when you have a late dinner of home made curry, and go to sleep less than two hours later? Dreams that consist of a fantastic muddling of things experienced and wanted. I even fell back to sleep twice to continue the journey, and it was not difficult to resume the same “film.” Often I am able to do this, with a strong intent. I generally have interesting dreams, and a couple of them reappear to entertain me. One is going to a far away town on the water with handsome colonial style architecture, and I can see the island a mile off shore I want to go to again. Often I hike to the grassy knoll and say with a sense of relief, “There it is!” like I am trying to show somebody. Now I know this is a combination of Trinidad and Tobago and Sri Lanka places I have been before, but like all dreams it is a mismatch of ideas and feelings. It never appears to me to be unattainable or frustrating, but a true expression of what I know and want. There is a sense of love and understanding, and I wish I could write better about this. I would like to spin these dreams into a short story. Like the time I had a old right hand wheel jeep with a friend tooling around Tobago, and it the middle of nowhere in the rain and mud we got stuck. We made it out later, by just being calm and trying everything we knew of, just in time to watch a sunset on the opposite side of the island. So I have plenty of experiences to pull dreams from, places seen, love found and lost, full of hope and expectations to be met.

Afternoon Cup of Tea

Working with a client now and she tells me she I make her feel more comfortable than someone else she interviewed. I attribute it being a lot more down to earth after my near death experience. Besides this, I am a lot more humble and work with people instead of telling them what to do. If they are involved throughout a project they become more attached and understanding when I explain my idea. She still is cautious, but I have assured her I will follow through until she is happy, as word of mouth is the best referral. I have also told her that I take my work home with me, and think it through, allowing me to get a better overall view of the project. I am still able to do other things while still keeping her house in my mind. Approaching it like a piece of art, finessing and fine-tuning, just like I am tying to do here with the blog. I am working towards a certain kind of casualness, like an afternoon cup of tea.

I did have a dream last night of getting a job in my old field of advertising in New York. It showed me the excitement, but also the awareness of the work I would have to do. In my dream, after much deliberation I declined the job yet felt honored. I guess I have come to know what I can do and what I can’t do with this brain injury. I tell my new brain-injured clients in my volunteer at the hospital to be more realistic about life and above all have humor with yourself.