Wisdom comes Quicker without Liquor

The fifth precept:
I undertake the training rule
 to abstain from fermented drink that causes heedlessness.

Wak Saket Prep for New Year's 2555

The abbot who I had so much respect for when I did I short term ordination in Thailand, said when I disrobed that the fifth precept is the most important to keep in lay life. I agreed but came home to enjoy my occasional wine with dinner, I felt I had it all under control, but this stuck with me. He also stated that it isn’t the alcohol that is so bad, but drinking makes you more apt to break other precepts about lying, false speech and maybe even sexual misconduct. One as a human becomes weaker.

I continued requesting precepts at temple with the Nuns at home, which is done after prayers and meditation, so I finally listened to myself. If I request the precepts then I must want to live by them. Don't I? I love red wine, and feel it was such an important part of who I am. I keep wanting some positive, I thought, a remainder of my life pre-brain injury. I realized that I was clinging still to my old self.

My kuti at Thai Temple Nov, 2554

But is it really who I am? Not on my wisdom seeking missile path, I am more and more leaning towards the natural compassion that lives within everyone. How can I let this shine more? Like when I went up to a participant at my weekend retreat with Bentinho, at the fire pit in the evening while rubbing his back, said to a gentleman, “Thank you for being you.” He was touched. Or when talking to another woman feeling her dis-ease with her life, kneeled next to her, with positive ideas of how to ask for what she may need from her husband instead of venturing in search of a spiritual experience. One cannot feel in these situations if you have even one half a glass of wine. You are more into the experience of the wine to care deeply about others. Although the wine will give you the illusion of being more in touch with your feelings.

I feel I can now write about why I quick drinking on 1/1/11(2554). First let me say, that I am pretty aware of the dangers of alcoholism, but in my twenties I still partied and drank socially. This lead me to wine with dinner, and as a way of opening conversation with friends. Thinking more, it actually lead me to an elitist idea of myself as my taste in wine got more and more refined.  I dawned on me, more ego …more suffering and less wisdom. I had to quit, not to prove anything but that it was just an organic leaning to greater wisdom.

You know it is actually liberating to walk past the wine in stores, knowing that is one less thing to look towards for any source of happiness. Just having a half-open bottle of nice red-wine that you can't throw out, means you are obligated to have it the following evening, and thus making it more difficult to do an evening meditation. When you are out shopping, it also becomes a focus of what next to buy. It all became very transparent that all the wine desires pushed me to wanting a new experience each time. I could not rest in awareness or taste the peace of just being. That is a huge relief not to be bothered with in thought and desire, and I now feel the peace that I was actually looking for by drinking. 

 Relaxing at the beautiful Shwedagon Paya, Jan. 2555

My partner rarely drinks, and when I last saw him I bought him some really good Russian vodka that he wanted, last year. A full liter, it remained in the fridge for his occasional use. He would have a shot or two after a hard day at work with dinner. When I took off for Myanmar, he found himself feeling lonely, and drinking more that he should, woke up feeling not very well. We talked about this, in both cases and he realized he was not really interested in drinking. He realized that a nice run, was more what he needed. I had to let his natural wisdom shine through his experience.

That Same Face

It’s quiet, with the exception of the beeps on my monitoring equipment. I know ...I have been here before. I am going in and out of consciousness, and it is getting harder and harder to breathe. My partner is watching me, wondering…I look at him, and see three wrinkles of worry on his forehead. I marvel at his handsome face, his few eye wrinkles, his graying temples, but he is much more, a truth body. Yes, I have learned so much from him. He knows death well, from cremating his own brother when was 18 from suicide, not to mention his parents in the recent past. It is a on to another life that he has prepared us for by making merit and being a monk many times. He smiles. Knowing I am trying to talk, he leans closer to the bed. With a slight smile, I manage to whisper, “I get it,” before slipping into a subtle mind just before death.








Now, back it up. Where or what proceeded this, you ask?


I recently watched Revolutionary Road, and Kate Winslet in a moment of hopelessness of seeing her dreams scattered like ashes…had that face. I said I know that face, and it all came back to me.
My father drunk, sarcastically bitching at my Mom while she was making dinner for the six of us. My Mom’s hands were wet, she had a towel in one hand, and things were burning in the kitchen. She was leaning on the kitchen door frame, just looking at him with the same pained expression, and a tear flowed down one cheek. The four of us kids were avoiding coming to the table to endure, yet another one of his rages. What will he do this time? Mom was torn up, she can never do it, be good enough for him and she had nowhere to go, with the four us attached. She turned around and said, “Fine” and poured herself a glass of wine. She continued on fixing our dinner, tears were flowing down now and falling onto our plates. “Kid’s, you know your father.” Pissed off she would not engage him anymore, he got up from his regular throne, a chair at the table, slamming the door and taking off in his car. Mom would still try to serve dinner, but was so overwrought. I was sick of it, and took off to my room, dinner was not that important. Later my Mom would try to make up for the love that she and us did not get from my father. At times it was too smothering for me, being in junior high…moms were supposed to give you twenty paces, plus I saw right through it. I would say that you can’t make up for him.





Now years later I know what I got from my mom, was the ability to love someone, love myself and this formed my successful relationships. Lucky, I have no kids to worry about having to feed and clothe. I pity the situation she was in back then, and am glad she is happy now. She paid a hell of a price for us kids. Thank you Mom, and I really owe you my life. Yes, I finally get it.
The top photo is by my partner of the cremation of a family friend. A dear father figure who helped him as a child, when his father took off drinking, leaving his mom to raise her 4 kids without him.