School of Thoughts

My roommate, who came in late after being out in the middle of the night, awakens me. Tired, I watched my mind go to negative thoughts. I got up for a snack and water, because I went to bed with less food than I normally eat.

Today, cooked for the monks that I will mediate with on Sunday, and when it came to my dinner I just grabbed some odds and ends. I prepared some food for homeless, and drove out to find some to give it to. Sadly, not too hard to find. I gave to a couple sitting outside a grocery store. When I asked them if they were hungry, the man came to my car and introduced himself and said, “thanks!” A man nearby talking to them, smiled and gave me the thumbs up. So what do I have to complain about?

In my quest to be wise, I have realized just how often we make conversation based on something we don’t like. It can be as minor as the weather…“It’s too hot or It’s too cold!” Trying to build some connection with a stranger or to start a conversation with a friend. It is so common that we do it without even thinking. Now think about it. Have you ever met a wise and happy person? Guess what? You’ll notice that they almost never say a negative statement. Now, it doesn’t mean you have to be “Mr. Positive” and make everything sickly sweet. It just sounds that way in your head. I need to change this. If you create a negative mood, even on a simplest level with something everyone dislikes it is so easy. We hate the weather, politics, the economy or our weight and a whole bunch else. We can find faults in everything. Dislikes that define us as the fussy people we are.

You are creating the world as you see it, and it signals dissatisfaction for the way things really are. Human life is never easy. I know that and most other people know that. You can always find something you don't like. So what? Why point to others that you are not happy inside? It is not something you encounter with a wise person. You might see this positive behavior with regular people, so it is not just some ideal that is seen only with the Dalai Lama. You might even have a friend or acquaintance that does this and you never really knew why they seem to be consistent and positive. They leave you feeling lighter. I have witnessed this in a few people, and noticed that you never gravitate towards negative conversation and leave happier.

So, if I am creating the world I want to live in, then I will have to notice how I speak, catching everything before it spills out of my mouth. A wise person is a conscious person. And I will have to love myself, and not get mad if this does not happen right way. An understanding… that I am a work in progress.

Open Door Spirit

I felt a wee bit more relaxed about life after the all night meditation and when I returned a friend who is staying with me even remarked that I seem happier. I joked I am so tired I can’t possibly work up the energy to be bitchy. So, I was thinking it would be best to go again to weekend day I found online at a different venue far from the last monastery I went to last. The same monks from that one will be there and we can feed and help them(dana). I find it remarkably odd that I found this. I can’t seem to let this opportunity just fall by the wayside, regardless of feelings expressed in last post. They opened a door to my spirit, and now I feel an obligation to make it know how much I appreciated this time spent with them. We are all working towards the same goals. Plus, who knows if I end up being in the same robes on day in my life again. I wonder if they yearn for some appreciation of the sacrifice they have made for wisdom and dhamma. These monks where not born into it. So, the decision to leave the householders life had much more importance and only they why they made this move in their life. I know they have some small taste of what they miss from samsara, regardless of all the wisdom they have since gained.  It would not be seen as given towards the monks, but is considered merit. Merit I would earn for all those who have helped me to know love and have love in my life like my Mother. We live our lives by example. So, tomorrow and the next day I’ll cook, and remember the great food I was given when I was a novice.

Today, my partner said he working hard on his Masters for us.  Getting up late at night after work, with hardly a moment to breathe. That struck me, because most people think of themselves. When I work on myself it helps me but sometimes it can help others. They can share in the lightness of being that I can be at times,  but can also see the possibilities for themselves.  I am still trying to help others with no "what's in for me?" motive. That can be very challenging to do, because at the least you expect a thank you or a smile. But, I am getting better at thinking would I like in this instance... maybe some help or even a little understanding. Understanding of the monks, in this instance and others in life will open many doors.

The Train Stops to Meditate

My old train, still chugs along… albeit slower, and always a little bit less depend-able. Computer is back, limping and still threatening suicide saying it just can't keep up with the Jones. I decided to get on my bike for a ride to the bridge and back before a reading downtown. Taking off, up a hill and down, my hat fell off in the street. Stopping fast and trying to do a sharp turn, I laid it down…not particularly fast, but… oh, so elegantly. Leaving me with a bloody ego, oops… elbow. I grabbed the hat that missed a near death, by a car swerving, just in time just like the Volvo commercial to avoid giving it that extra starch look. They got more than they asked for in payback when they saw me kiss the pavement. And, I so rarely perform, NOT! I got up, looked at my elbow, shrugged my shoulders, thinking I am lucky once again…but, then I quickly thought I had lost my ring in cold and the crash. A ring that keeps reminding me of my partner, whenever things are tough like this, knowing that we have made it almost nine years against all odds. And we do have alot more to do together.

I biked on to the bridge and back, showered and dressed my wound for public viewing. I showed to a couple of friends, but funny, I did not embellish my story, stating…yes, I, too can be dumb. A close friend said, “your nines lives are gonna expire soon. Better buy the extended warranty!” I just shrug them off, not saying that my body reminds of this everyday. I saw three poets read and one young artist play her flamenco influenced classical pieces in a small venue. Not a poetry fan in general but some of their pieces read aloud brought tears to my eyes. I can always provide links if you are interested. Often can’t follow poetry, because it doesn’t follow the way I think and process. Now, if it were told in short films the visual clues would resonate so much easier for me. A journey back in time to neurological tests in the hospital to see how bad I was…any graphic/ visual element, I always did far better on, and felt that I was cheating in comparison to other kind of tests. So that train was chugging uphill at this time hoping to round the corner at any time a see a clear light at the end of the next tunnel.


Running home, catching busses to get back as fast as I could, to take off for a nearly three hour journey to a Buddhist monastery up north to join them in Lunar event of chanting and meditating all night. A spur of the moment idea I formed that same morning. Arriving in mid chant, I declined to disturb them by opening a door, and sat outside a window, not feeling a welcoming eye or gesture. Not to be discouraged, I quickly released my tight mind, and waited until a break when the door was opened. The room was quiet and small, so to be perfectly honest I know what is like to have an ungounded person walk in a room. Entering, I found the mats and pillows fast, sitting in the back of tiny hall…composed and ready to start the meditation at 9:30 pm. The American monks knew their Pali… impressive.

Hearing from another lay person that breaks, if made, are to be done at the 1/2 hour mark. I felt prepared to go for the long haul with no food in my belly since lunch. In a small temple with an Abbott, seven monks and about 13 lay including myself. Me, an odd man out in more ways than one, no one knew what I was about nor was I going to tell them. Luckily, my breathing warns me first if I am starting to fall asleep, that Darth Vader sound and snaps me back to consciousness without that proverbial head drop.  I made it the midnight bell, when they upped the lights and served strong tea, chocolate and cheese.  Snap, if they didn't whip out some chocolate covered coffee beans. Just a little fuel to make it until 3 am, which I did without too much drama and stayed after most people left. Two monks and I continued on until 5 am, and then they retired. I stayed on thinking the daybreak, would be safer time to leave. I was surprised I could this overnight with two breaks, clearing a lot of mental lint. Feeling it was a nice, calm interesting setting, but lacking some of the happiness I found with the monastic community in temples in Thailand. I am only guessing, but I felt the severity of the decision to join a forest sangha by the American monks, a kind of grim and bear it attitude. It just did not feel to be a logical next step in the path.
Perhaps, this might only come from where the monks started this process from, a painful reminder that life outside did not really pay as promised. This could be one of my reasons of interest, but feel that my desire for more wisdom evolve from a less painful place. Now, all this is just a gut feeling, and I could have read it all wrong and it was only one night, but there it is. One thing that will stick with me, was when the abbott was answering someone's question about how dhamma has changed their life and their intrepretation of people in their life. He said among other things(more or less) is you can't expect anyone else to get on your train, and everyone figures out life in a different way. My train stop approached as the following evening drew to a close at home(i.e. dragging ass) and looked up with sleepy eyes at my ring that never left the house.

Impending Doom or Opportunity?

My computer is on its last legs and while it is in the shop quietly deciding its own fate, I use this time to learn patience, yet again. Hey, maybe some wisdom would be great, as well. Pretty please? With sugar on top, if you don't mind. I will continue to analyze my faults, hopefully to access my compassionate heart buried deep underneath. I have noticed that when things are good and you are feeling ok, deep down, you know it will end suddenly. So, one has the tendency while things are fine to not even enjoy them with this threat of the never ending question, "What is next?"

This probably comes to most people like it does for me, after you have a some personal history of failings(we all do - like a breakup, job loss, etc) or some kind of surprise drama like my near death. Or it might come to you, when your upcoming death rears its ugly head like some police sobriety test while you are drunkenly cruising through life. But in all seriousness, if you don't work on yourself when things are good or even just satisfactory you'll find that you are suddenly injured or even on your deathbed and you no longer have any time or patience left. Yes, life goes by this damn fast. We really do have no idea what is next. You can save, dream of some far off place to relax and plan ahead for retirement and it will never put a dent into the clear understanding that things change and often do so with no logic or reason. Out of the blue.

I think I have come to an understanding that those little discontentments I have about life, all the way to the supreme life changing event of my brain injury are a result of my ripening karma. Whether from this life or not really doesn't matter. What does matter ...is I now have the time to invest on developing my compassionate heart while things are fine. This will insure a future of more positive karma and might even result in a peaceful passing. So, you say you don't believe in karma? OK, fine then, but at least once you have probably experienced someone in your life – that their entire being or character is positive and loving and it rubbed off on you, the day you encountered them. I want to be that person, and one can't just wake up and be that.... even if you won the damn lottery. It takes a clear and thorough understanding of the way life really is.

This means working on putting to bed delusions and dissatisfactions based on ignorance. Delusions like anger(yes, even in most subtle forms), jealousy, pride, ego, laziness and others. If I truly want wisdom I have to look at my faults that are fear based, like my death, of course. And how I deal with others. Like today when given a compliment, instead of saying thanks... I try to whittle down my value. You know, people who say, "Not me, I hardly did anything." This is not a wise person, who does not show respect for himself when he downplays a compassionate thank you. You cannot offer wisdom and be truly happy without some real work. What you say, how you act and your body language says a whole lot  about what is in your mind. A calm mind is a product of wisdom and compassion built out of meditation. I can see the kind of compassionate person I want to be,  and I am finally aware of the personal work involved...with or without my computer. But the clearer I get, the more superficial my things appear to me.

Children — What Are We Doing Wrong?

I have watched my nephew over the past week, and although he is loved and disciplined well...there is something with American teachings and desires fulfilled that need to be looked at. All children put up a fight with homework and doing things they don't want to do, but without respect for elders they develop a kind of lazy way of responding. This lazy way can range from total frustration/anger to a flip response. Either way I have watched children in Thailand and here in the USA and there is distinctly different kind of respect that we are not teaching children here. Buddhism addresses desires as not a method to find happiness. Wisdom addresses the attachment to things and people. Give any child in the US a toy, and soon they want one they don't have that is bigger or another friend has. Let a child grow up like this, and they continue on this path as adult. On a path of continual disappointment. There will always be someone who is smarter, prettier, and has a bigger house with a better car. So we have to go back to the drawing board to teaching how to be happy with what you have.
I give to MERCY CORPS kids, because I know that we are very fortunate to born in USA. How long this will last, who knows?

Looking Out and Seeing Yourself

I went to temple last night while away from home and left a little early to make sure I could find it. My luck, there were the remains of an accident blocking my exit off the freeway, and I spent 20 minutes pinned waiting for it to be re-routed. I thought what a good time to practice patience, and if I am late no one will care because they don’t know me. While waiting in the car I practiced my Pali chants and worked through a set three times. When I pulled up to a full parking lot one fellow sangha member greeted me with a smiling face, and I knew I was in the right place. I left to find a place to park nearby.

The talk centered with the fact that if one wants happiness they must approach the world with a warm heart. One can only do that by finding positives in others and greet them as you would a close friend. And instead of finding faults in others.. to turn it around and work on your own faults. The point that made me reflect was: How can one complain about others complaining. Bingo, this was me! Something I can definitely work on. I confess I do this way too much, and some friends say I am just a doer, which they just possibly can’t be. I think by them saying this, they are in effect saying to get off their case. I did not learn to speak again to harass people.

Now for some fun: Mr. Dan Philips  is a guy making homes out of scrap with an artful flair while working with the owners. Hats off to yet another “hidden” artist in One Man's Trash. The slide show of his recycled homes is here.

Resisting Homophobia in the Military

"Being a lesbian on 9/11 is what initially led me to begin to question my involvement in the military and the military's involvement in the world," Hogg explained to Truthout, "If on 9/11, I did not have the freedom to hug my girlfriend goodbye before we left as a unit for NYC, then what freedom was I protecting? What freedom could we offer to the world if we treat it so restrictively based on who a person falls in love with?"
a quote from a great article from Truthout.org.

 It is a question that, with suitable modifications, is perhaps pertinent for each one of us to ask, even outside the military. We who never tire of vaunting the freedoms that America allows its citizens, and feels authorized to export elsewhere at all costs.

Seeing Beyond - A Coming Out Story

I have always said that real life stories are better than any fiction and this one is no exception. Coming out stories help many more beyond the storyteller, and The Last Laugh I heard on theMoth.org while resting this morning touched me.

Even now in 2009 it is a very brave thing to do, and Terrence did not run away.  Hearing this story I could not help remembering my own coming out so many years ago.

It really is a positive movement to accepting who you are. By the telling of Terrence Buckner's story it will signal much growth in the face of all the heartache and physical harassment he and others face.


Showing the importance of his mother’s love and acceptance. He is one of thousands that are facing a hostile world that sometimes cracks with compassion by touching others. Hopefully it provides a link between all of us. The seas are now calmer for his next greatest voyage.

Pritchard's Lifesaver Water Filter

I often spoke of many nations not having safe drinking water. In the US, people don't really know the source of bottled water and it is less regulated than our tap water. In Thailand, people seem to be happy letting Coke filter their polluted water and sell it back to them as Namtip. Can they really afford this? I say you can just forget gold, if you have no drinking water. Put money in what keeps you alive, first and foremost. Not to mention the harmful refuse that would be eliminated by Lifesaver Filter. Need I say more.

The Passing Doctor

Many years ago, I called a friend for a primary care physician’s name who is gay friendly. He gave me his Dr’s name and number and I signed up with him. He was curt and efficient, with some pretend friendly… sprinkled on top. On his card it said his specialty was gastrointestinal, which I hoped never to need.  He was always passing both physically and in comments to others around. I remained with him for many years only because he was on my plan and knew me. I quickly moved to the doctor’s assistants because they would listen and spend 1 1/2 minutes more each visit. So, in effect, he was my doctor only because his name was on the door. We would speak, if I saw him, but as time passed I saw less of him. It was common to hear him rant at one of his employees or speak too loudly of a patient he was seeing in other rooms.

I saw this Dr. out once at a bar with his partner who just happened to be the billing person at his office. His partner was not even friendly in the bar, and I began to put two and two together that this was caused by the Dr.’s caustic and abusive manners. Later, when I had my bi-lateral strokes the first time I saw him afterward, he chewed me out for not coming to him for a referral instead of having any compassion for a man that could not speak or swallow…limping in. While going to outpatient treatment to learn to swallow and physical training, his office was kept up to date with my progress. At any time, he was only a phone call away from my status.  As time passed, I could tell he was amazed at my progress but never really said it besides saying I was fine. I was busy doing acupuncture to speed my healing process outside of his care.

One visit, he told me about a new stomach tube that instead of hanging down which I had to tie up to a necklace, there was a new kind which screwed in when you fed yourself, and unscrewed to a flat tab on my belly. He said it would free you up from that dangling one. I did not know at that time that I had made such progress swallowing that I would quickly be off the tube altogether. I pretty much was too busy working on getting better and sleeping a lot.

We went ahead because I so desperately wanted to trust someone after my brain injury. Meeting him there in a hospital across from his office, I laid down. Without finding out first which kind I had, which incidentally, was the balloon kind. With no anesthetic he proceeded to pull out by force my old tube, almost putting his foot on my belly. I was in so much pain, I said stop by drawing my hand across my neck, and give me some pain drugs…gestering, for I could not speak at this time. He was never good at listening anyway, so this was fun.  A supposed quick change was turning out to be a nightmare over the course of a couple hours. After getting it out, and putting the new one in, without an x-ray to make sure it was placed correctly, I went home.

I was hungry, and I was still 25 lbs under what I am now, living only on meal supplement drinks poured in. Alone again at home, I opened a can, and poured some in the tube immediately feeling discomfort while still having hunger pains. Stopped and tried later, thinking it was the trauma of the new tube. It just felt weird, like it was going into my body, but not in my stomach. I called my partner, who came later that day after work, and we both decided with my increasing pain to drive me to ER. The Dr would not meet us there even though we called his service. Our treatment was so bad that my partner started to make notes of everything going on. When I got x-rayed at ER, the tube was delivering food into my body cavity and not my stomach. They said I would run the risk of infection with all this food in my body, and they had to suction it out. It was a long day and night, needless to say. I was already 2 days without a meal by the time it all got settled. Less than 10 days later my tube was taken out, as I had developed enough swallow to survive without it. It was the second time a nurse said to me what did this guy do to you? My guess, his suggestion for the new tube was done solely to bill more money, and the person in charge at my outpatient was so pissed he never called to check before doing it.

Then came the $5000 in bills from the Dr’s office. I called and said I would not pay and was treated to tirades from his partner in billing. The Dr knew that I told him I would not pay for this unneeded procedure, and I think he was happy I did not sue him. My outpatient Dr was so angry that my primary care Dr never contacted them before doing this procedure. I let it go. I just had no energy left.

Things got back to normalish, and the Dr. was a bit friendlier. I continued to see other Dr’s in his office just to avoid his rants and short attention span. I built up a good report with another P.A. and stayed with him. I would occasionally talk to my primary care Dr, still joking and trying to put the past behind us. I did not bring up the tube mistake with him. Just about the time, I finally finished fighting with my Dr’s partner over the bill, that they never took off my account…I heard through friends that the partner killed himself drinking. A few years later passed uneventful as far as medicine goes, but I was trying everything alternative to help me. Then came the news that my Dr had a brain tumor, and would have an operation. I saw him a few times as his office back at work. I thought to myself maybe he will soften some, but I did not see much change in his personality. We talked about getting together to have a glass of wine but it never happened. Then his gradual withdrawal from practice signaling a worsening of his condition, I asked of him at his office.

Thinking that time is precious, I decided to go by his house to, in effect, say good bye. His house was an old church converted into a nice loft and not very far from my house. I ran his bell and he came to the door dressed up in a suit, and I said I came by to see how he is doing. I asked him for some time to talk, hoping to share some of my wisdom about life changing events or at the least give him a hug. He was not really happy to see me, and started in on another rant. But that was his way in almost every circumstance since I had known him. I said, “If this is not a good time…then I’ll leave,” walking back to my car. His tone changed a wee bit enough to say thanks in his awkward and roundabout way.That was the last time I ever saw him.

My Shoes

I have thought about this off and on lately. Last week, when I got to my yoga class “my” usual spot was taken by someone else’s mat. I actually felt a slight bit bothered. I immediately let it go, found a new place and a mental note of this feeling. I say “my” spot because I can found there mediating 1/2 hour before class and it is conveniently located away from traffic, and moving people and things. But I don’t own the spot, so what is this all about? We often label things as mine, like “My shoes,” and when we can’t find them or someone took them we immediately have mental discomfort. We do it to a lot of things, putting ownership on material objects because we should... we paid for them, right? But just saying those are my shoes starts to create a firmer sense of I or me. This is only a road to more pain, extending your sense of self beyond your body, falling into traps like I did with my spot. It was really never mine before my usual arrival time, nor after the class ends, anyway. I think I might suggest to my teacher in my class that just before starting people are asked to move their mats two to the right or left, just to make people aware of their attachment to space. Explain to them, why after they move and to watch their thoughts. The more we are conscious of the pain we create for ourselves, the less we will blame others. It's becoming much clearer now that we create our own hell, and let's start running in the other direction.

Not An Island

This came to me after a dinner conversation when someone said something that seemed like a wrong term. It started a heated argument with three of us. I found myself feeling insulted and agitated. By accepting these words as valid, then I am, in effect, playing dumb. I am not as stupid as they are, I must be thinking in my head. What an ego! I wondered later why, while in meditation, did I take offense, as it was not directed as an insult to me. Later, I asked a Dr. friend for the correct answer, and I was correct. But at what price to be right and be myself? I began to think about the individual or the self, the hard line that seems to separate us from others. We are not them! Especially in the US, we so proud of our individualism. We tattoo our skin, dye our hair, and pierce our skin to define us as a unique individual. Getting offended if someone is like us, and on the other hand wanting people to agree with us. But, in fact, we do not or cannot exist without others. We share the same needs, desires for happiness, and fears.
Looking all around, every time we go anywhere for somebody to recognize us. Seeking others that we need. We want to loved by the same people we are trying to define ourselves as being different from. Now, how silly does it sound now? I’m certainly guilty of this, and am still not wise now as I write this. Ship this island some wisdom, please.

A Favorite Old Wenders Film

In a great setting and with haunting music, It's about faith.
It stuck with me all these years, even with the brain injury.

Just Be Good

The temple I lived at in June had some free dhamma books and one of two I found interesting is Just be Good! from Sri Lanka. It is modern and approachable and states in the introduction, Buddha’s teaching: Has no room for blind faith or unthinking worship. Teaches us to take full responsibility for all our actions, provides a clear path for spiritual and personal development, and encourages questions and investigations into its own teachings. It goes on later to say the Buddha never said anything like 'worship me and you shall be rewarded.' He also said never threatened to punish anyone should they not believe in Him or follow His Teachings. He said that there is nothing wrong in doubting or even questioning Him, as most people will take some time to understand His Teachings. He stressed that everyone should seek, understand and experience the Truth for themselves, and not have blind faith in anyone or anything.
This is some of the core of the intellect of Buddhism, as it allows you the answer your own questions about life as you experience it. And take what rings to true to your own soul. The free small book, tells a lot in the few pages it has, in an effort to take any complication out of Buddhism. How refreshing and smart. It also has been taught to me, that of his 84,000 teachings he gave, some were designed for the different audiences depending on class and experiences. In an effort to teach more people on their level.

Now on a personal level, I have some questions of myself that I want to answer myself. That can only come with time to reflect deeply in meditation. My feeling is that my time on this planet is limited, and the desire for wisdom far outweighs the desire for ordinary pleasures. So I am leaning towards a more spiritual life, not out of some fantasy escapism. I guess I will have to continually ask myself the hard questions and not give up. The tendency is to get lazy when the answers don’t pop out and grab you. And we always want a quick fix. With gratitude here is a funny finding happiness teaching from Just Be Good site.

Punting Distractions

Running around my house, avoiding this post, by nibbling on walnuts(good for heart), and drinking a quarter size(10B) splash of Sharbat Rooh Afza in sparkling water. Which is like drinking grandma's underwear drawer sachet, my best description. If I satisfy myself with good things, then I avoid the unpleasant things that reside inside myself. I procrastinate writing this post, because it is a difficult topic, and at the same time I don’t want to come across as beating myself up. With a lot of contemplation, hopefully, I can access the little bit of wisdom that floats to the surface above the quagmire of life. It came me yesterday as a flash, while not in a depressive mood, that my ability to have fine skills of discernment came out of the dissatisfaction I had in myself. From early on, I did not have a love of myself, based on #1-being gay and #2-having a generally unloving father in the formative years. So, I ended up with a fragile ego, until I came out at 18. This lead to some understanding of who I am. But in the process of growing up, my dislike of certain aspects of myself made me turn to try to find pleasant things in life. I began collecting things that were beautiful, and later trying food that pleased my senses. Honing my skills in visual arts, and developing my good taste in just about everything. I could not stop my pursuit of finer things, trying to put out the fire of discontent. So, you say, you transformed!… stop and think. Sure, it worked and it helped with my career choices, health choices, partner choices etc. I am still alive and healthy, really. I made a few bad choices but who hasn’t? I am not on any drugs, or drink to excess. I have great friends, a great partner and a loving family(dad passed). So, why am I thinking about this? It really seems foolish. I will tell you why. A life built around trying to make the world more beautiful to oneself is fraught with constant misery. The potential of never being satisfied.

Now, how can I become wiser? And what legacy do I leave? The nice things I have created are temporary, and in ten years they will be gone and forgotten. I will exist only in the heads of people that know and respect me. That truly is rebirth to me. What tasted good me now, will never translate to a positive thought of me in the mind of a close friend later. I am putting too much into things that will cease to be a true cause of happiness for me. Looking at all the art I have collected, and now…even though I like it and still marvel at the artist’s devotion, it only becomes a force to tie me down to indecision. Let’s just say, if I die tomorrow, my things will become a symbol of me, that my loved ones have to dispose of.(don’t worry, this is not a cry for help). How wise is giving pain to those you love? Even indirectly. So, what I am getting down to is that if I want an even better rebirth, I had better work on creating the good karma of helping others. To really help others you have to be truly happy in your heart and being. Whenever you see a wise monk or even the Dali Lama, you see their core being is a wisdom being. They know that attachment to anything is a cause of suffering. That everything changes.

The Abbott of the temple I was at in June, had wisdom that he did not have to speak about for me. His pure intention and action I observed were dhamma. Sure, I can go to temple here and make some progress, meditate on my own and in a group. But living the good life and the spiritual life will not be a fast path to enlightenment. We never know when our death will happen, and I am not getting younger even with all the creams and vitamins. Big Surprise. So, I can keep safely living my life like I do now. Or, I can try the monk’s life again in a slightly longer time frame like 3 months leading to a year’s trial. It is only talk at this point, and I am not irrational or running from anything. What I am running towards is wisdom and a wish to make valuable contribution to those around me. That will be my legacy.

Show 'n Tell

I wanted to write for days and have been editing photos, doing a few rounds and found these. Lately, I have been out of sync and would just end up seeing friends and getting other stuff done. Here are photos from Wat Rajsingkorn, where the young novice wanted to show me his tiger teeth and rolled prayer when he found out I had been a novice, too. This came about when I was talking to the mom of these two kids. I thanked him for showing me, and they are probably given to him by his parents and are heirlooms of luck.

A Morning View on Expectations

I was thinking about writing about people’s expectations when I first heard of the shooter, George Sodini’s complaints from the news. Researching it further, he seemed to be very disturbed. It may have built up for years, combined with the family background and life experience. Whether he was expecting too much out of life or not we’ll never know. If I could guess, I bet you he has never traveled outside the U.S. Regardless, I do feel that we, especially in the U.S., don’t really feel we are lucky and privileged. Instead we want more and more and are perfectly happy demanding more. We want all the trimmings we see on TV. There are never any guarantee in life besides our upcoming death. When I was a novice in June, the simplicity of my existence was actually refreshing and liberating, so I can see how I could focus more on mindfulness and cultivating wisdom.

Reflecting upon this, I can still learn a lot about how I deal with my own life. It wasn’t but 24 hours later that I found myself, a bit agitated by the fact that people still don’t fully understand how my injury affects nearly everything I do. I write this, in fact, so I won’t have to speak it in conversation, hoping that someone will take this as a jumping off place to comment on. I will speak to family and they will say you sound good today, if I am standing and walking around because that affects the quality of my voice. If I relax and sit down especially on a couch it leads to a restricted diaphragm and does not help. I will meet new friends will say you just need to speak more, etc. Uggh!

I have a collapsed palate, which causes my air during speech to come out my nose. Combined with being totally numb from the nose to the chin inside and out, it makes for a hard time to physically remember how to say a word. I can scream, and lift it partially, but if I speak quietly it is coming out my nose and totally exhausts me. Kind of like being winded, but all times using a new area of the brain for speech, so “girlfriend” it ain’t pretty. For some words it sounds pretty good out of the blue, maybe because I just heard it, or it accesses some untapped memory of speech. Then quickly it deteriorates; so just let me say learning a new language would be a miracle. But with all this said, it or should I, is not all that bad. I just be more quiet when things are difficult or when others don’t understand. My silence is not because I don’t have anything to say. It may mean that it may be too complex and wordy that I can’t figure out how to whittle it down to simple speech that I can say with ease.


I should not expect people to understand the complexity of speech and what for me now is the miracle that make speech possible. I have seen specialists for surgery who did not recommend a correction that would only introduce complex snoring problems. And I won't go into details about the other side effects of brain injury that also cause speech difficulties. So, don’t worry I will not pull a Sodini. Instead, I can perhaps gather some practical wisdom of not expecting understanding from others that even took me years to grasp. I have quickly realized, I am by no means unhealthy or unable deal whenever I see someone in a wheelchair or crippled. I am rich with love from my partner and family and friends. I am extremely lucky.

Decorating or Depression?

So they say 10% are homosexual supposedly and now 10% in the US are on anti-depressants! The huge shrinking sane population… does that mean if we are not decorating we are depressed? Do you think your Doctor really cares in the 6 minutes max when get when we visit? If they really cared they talk about other ways to help with depression. Like exercise, eating a balanced diet and sleep. Don’t forget about meditation to look deeply at your expectations in life as to what you think is supposed to make you happy. I would say turn off your TV. Don’t compare yourself to others that may have more than you do or appear happier. We are stuck with same problems as others, but usually manifesting when we don’t like them to. Do you want to live in peace? Just work on understanding your mind, and the impermanent nature of life. It doesn’t mean becoming anything but more acutely aware of how we think and deal in life. I have some first hand experience taking antidepressants not for depression, but to help with my aphasia and speaking with more ease. It actually helped my speech, but the side effect of lacking emotion, a kind of flatness about life and a chemical feel in my body made me want to quit it fast. I have seen other friends on antidepressants and their apparent lack of understanding or investment in how others feel. It seems like the same thing that lowers their perception of themselves is carried over in dealing with others. So we can’t fix everything with drugs and luckily they won’t try it with my life-threatening, good taste.
Thanks to Chusak Srikwan's ox hide artwork.

Find Buddha

Sometimes life presents problems where you can see a clear path to absolution. Yesterday, while trying to complete this temple rehab, I was working with the only other person were trying to put back everything in its proper place. We were both tired, and I was about at my last straw of energy I could find to get this done. While working together with my other sangha member, he got a little too demanding as how I should do things. I am about as conscious and careful, as you will find. I got a bit upset, and instead of getting angry, I just said I will leave it all to you and just go and home and rest. And got my things and walked out. Now, I knew he is just as tired or more so than I. By leaving him, I may be right in this instance but and what price? Leaving him to do it all alone when he has done so much? I walked around the block. Went straight to the best place I could find ice cream and bought us a pint to share and while they were packing it, saw his texted apology. I did not really deserve or want this. I wanted more for this job to be done for both of us. Enough to come back and say we need an award, "Let’s eat ice cream!" We worked until 10 pm with no dinner, but in this time I found a little more wsidom tucked away in me.

Arms Away

Right now, I could use a few more arms! I jumped back into helping paint my Buddhist temple, and being fairly large...I am wiped out. I am always amazed that I can keep this up with jet lag and a brain injury. But I can see light at the end of this...and time to conjure up some new posts.

One thing I noticed while traveling is that I saw people engrossed in their IPhone and Google Maps. Sure, they might have the most direct route, but getting lost is one of the the great experiences in life. It often leads me to new favorite places that are not pre-planned. At least allowing me to live in the moment with all its smells, sights and wonders. Instead of peering at a small screen with head down, while your mom with a map says, "Are you sure that's where it is?"

Bangkok Stories

Like all Bangkok stories, this will sound familiar. Going with a friend to see another wat on my list that ended up being closed. My friend instead of getting mad or upset he asked me if I had seen Wat Kanlayanamit before. It was near the closed wat. I replied, no meanwhile touring the kutis of the monks on the way out.

I thought I had been to it before, churning the memory wheel…I had, but that was two years ago and there was a huge festival during Chinese New Year, so I only got as far as the two Chinese pagodas out front close to the river. Walking in from the back, after a stroll through narrow lanes between houses, we came first to the small wihan(see photos at bottom) that has redone beautiful murals from King Rama the III, and gilded lacquer doors.

On top of that it has great ceilings outside, too. That was a treat, until I saw the huge Buddha in the subduing mara in the main Wihan, which was a nice surprise. Built as a gift to King Rama III with this huge Buddha similar to one in Autthya. I thought it must be stone it is so large, but in fact was cast on May 18th, 1837 by Chao Phraya Nikornbodin (Toah Kalayanamit) with a donation from King Rama III. There are also nice tiled gables, and a lot has been redone. It looks like they are trying to replace the huge sandstone pavers outside soon.

There is always merit to be earned by supporting the repairs of these temples. Kalayanamit means true friend or good friend and I hope it is the beginning of a good friendship with the friend who took me there.






As a flew back on the plane one moment out of thousands came to mind. One day, I went to 7/11 to get some water and ran into a monk and he started talking to me of all the people there. We jumped into a conversation, quickly right there, once he got past my voice. He had been to US, and California and stayed in…of all places, Las Vegas.
This lead to my obvious question, “Why there?”



He replied it was where my lady friend lived who paid for his trip. She met him there in Bangkok, and paid for a trip to see the west of the states. She has since sent her son to be a novice for two weeks and has turned out to be a good son. He told me that the best we can do as wise people is help our aging parents until they die, so they die in peace.



Our parents had given up a lot to bear us and clean up after us, and this is how we have to pay them back. The merit alone will help make our own death easier. A wise thought, from a monk younger than I.

Remember you can click on any photo to enlarge.