Tears of Gratitude?

I was sitting down to meditate and gratitude came up. My mother, the Buddhist nuns, my family(even my mentally ill sister), my friends, my current and ex-partners(one of which was cooking for the nuns at my suggestion), and the friend who lead me to vipassana( by not telling me, showing me).
Tears started to flow, and I began to think, am I mourning the loss of my ignorant self? Or perhaps, being so stupid not to appreciate them even more? ... and thus telling them? But telling someone they are appreciated is only words, and using wisdom to motivate right intention and thus action begins to call out stronger. Observing it again, it is just emotion, the heart peeling layers of protection off of itself. Layers applied to protect the self, which is really only a made up, or learned identity. Unlearning it is really relaxing all formally entrenched ideas of a self, independent of the world. If we were really independent, we would not have parents. Think immaculate conception(not here! Believe you me!) and it blows the self out of the water.

Create Your Own Happiness

Sometimes your allergies are in full bloom like the flowers and you take the pills. Some work, some don't. Some pills make you clean the house in record time, others leave you in the dust. At first, you say they are driving you crazy. But what happens every year? ALLERGIES. When I was a kid we lived for awhile in the middle of nowhere in farm country. My dad was giving me hell like, 'GO, find a friend!" The only loser I could find sucked his shirt, so it was really slim pick'ins. My allergies would swell my eyes shut, and only because it was all I had! Fast forward to today, they are a part of life and once you decide not to make this your misery, live with it, laugh more or meditate more. Maybe even nap more, and suddenly they fall away from your center of attention. Who is really in control?



Now how can you be miserable wearing this t-shirt?

The Dust Also Rises

My table in a quiet murmur speaks to me, “Remove my dust, please.”
I, like the rock can't move. I am waiting for the next wave of dust to settle, from the vibrations of life. Attentively, I stare, listening to the sound of silence. The rock says, "Hey, you, Mr. dreamy eyes, can you bring me some water? I really look quite handsome, with the salt water of the Kehoe beach. Don’t you remember when I left you so enchanted, when I surfaced among your miseries to wake you up? You dragged me home to sit in dust with all I have done for you? I tell the rock, “Hey, listen up, buddy, you're enjoying the vibes of all life, some of that dust is mine or I mean me…its’ really me. The rock says, "It is who? How can that be?" “It is the ever changing me, some of my precious skin lies there on you. Up close and personal. Are you wearing protection?", I say, laughing. "Hopefully, it is the fun parts, or those same enchanted parts we share, because I have shelved the misery for right now. So, enjoy the dust." I turn the light off and rock whispers, "sweet dreams."

This Hand ...

This hand shoed off the photographer at my 4th birthday party
because I felt shy.

This hand was held while my mother stopped my nosebleed when I had a fight with my best friend at 5.

This hand was held, by my father when they stitched my eyebrow cut open when I enthusiastically ran after my father to fish and fell face down on rocks at 6.

This hand grabbed a tree to hide behind when someone shot at me and my friend walking along a frozen creek at age 7.

This hand held the reins of my first pony I bought with money I saved from mowing lawns at 13.


...and Later

This hand was held by my partner when he was told I might die while in a coma.

This hand wai’ed the older gentleman crying who sat behind me as appreciation for his fortitude for
being there at a 10–day Vipassana, upon completion.

This hand fell on a nail and provided no feedback as to its state, besides being very colorful.

This hand swept up to the sky in yoga many times in sun salute, trying to make it mimic its mate.

This hand cannot feel anymore and too soon will lay still at my side and burn in my cremation.

Between now and then it is busy, Na?

Night Wisdom t-shirt

© A "WhereYouStop"
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H e a v y w e i g h t

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Season of Change

With the same “off again, on again” vibrations of life, my Vipassana course cancelled at 8:30, because of a storm and power outage. I just laughed and started to un-pack. I was in email contact with one of the nuns when this happened, so she knew how much I wanted to go. Later, they called back at 10pm saying it was on. On the drive out there in a storm, I was buying tea for the teachers for dana, and something told me to buy a pair of rubber boots. Good thing! The weather seemed to be coordinated perfectly with the concentration of our minds, stormy snow and rain at first, clearing to sun. On the fourth day, I was lucky enough to be served a smile by another man in our dorm on the way out of the meditation hall in a kind of like a “whew moment” that we all shared. Tried to work on my numb left side in the meditations, and on the eight day my left index finger and second finger lifted up above the place it rested on my knee. On day 7th and 8th day, I found some heart “blockage” that I pierced in visualizations, as it arrived and passed. Just noting without craving, my heart beats clearer and adds some new vibrations even now while home. I am hoping to integrate this in my daily meditations, using body sensations to realize impermanence. Just the same my guard spider is gone for now, but he usually moves down when the wind comes up in spring back to the trees and hedges nearby.
Yosemite was perfect closing for the weekend ending of this course before heading home, a suggestion by a dhamma brother. Many Thanks All!

My Guard Spider

With my guard spider in place above my door, I am taking off for a 10-day Vipassana to work on some more anger. I need this after dealing with contractors on and in my house for the last two months. Luckily, I bumped up daily meditation to 1 hour a day. Sorry, I have been to busy to post these last couple of weeks, so here is a interesting TED talk on "The Birth of Word."