Do I Have to Speak?

Having gone through most of the M.B.L. therapy, removing most of the anger I have from a difficult childhood, now we were are working on improving my speech. This is still difficult with a fallen pallet and aphasia. The therapy moved my hearing to the right, which is closer and faster when it comes to speech, and I got some more mouth sensitivity. At the same time this therapy gave me more happiness, calmness and assertiveness. I combined the therapy with acupuncture and daily meditation to augment it. I am still not over the intense and exhausting dreams, but for the most part moved into the present. They do leave me waking up happy and resolved every day. Ear therapy to strengthen new connections we have made, means reading into my right hand close enough to bounce sound to the right ear. I am also listening to music with the right ear only when using any earphones, and talking on cell only in my right ear.  My speech leaves a lot to be desired, but is functional enough to get by. 

Now, I am faced with my own will after living with this for such a long time.  Of course, being on the short end of any conversation and constantly overlooked for what I have to say gives me a lot of fuel for contemplation about the true worthiness of speech. With real honesty I can say the only important thing I have said in my life is I Love You, with strong conviction.  Because I don’t say this unless it is fully felt, and acted upon. My family and my partner can be my witness and benefactors. With this in mind is more speech really worth my effort? I don’t need any obstacles in my path in the pursuit of wisdom and at times it seems to keep providing a detour. I have much progress in meditating which my M.B.L. therapist says is easy for me to take a route of non-speaking. And I am looking forward to a 20-day sit, to further enhance my awareness. I did say this was not an easy out for speaking, as Vipassana is not really easy and has provided me a lot of clarity and direction. So now I am faced with my own desire, and feel that I should do it mainly for others to speak better. With this I should work on truly embodying the words, “Thank You,” because our life is not our own doing. In the back of my mind I should focus on a goal that has been in the back of my mind to share my experience in life with others, that I discussed last March with a Sikh doctor I met on a train into Bangkok who was there, I found out later …to speak.

Universe Unfolding Its’ Plan

Having just gone through the sonic birth part of M.B.L., and the resulting exhausting dreams, unloading tons of past experiences… it becomes apparent that the way I got to this point was not really my own doing. I rode a landslide down a hill in one dream, almost like skiing on the rocks, landing upright with a huge boulder resting beside me…spurred to manifest because of a song I heard. People in the dream asked why I went that way, I said, “Because, I had to!”

Sure, we all would like to think in command of it all because of our ego-based consciousness, but it was what the universe had planned for me… even our birth. If you put aside all the strange things that lead me here, and how many hundreds of unrelated (we think) people are involved it was not a very direct path. Taking a helicopter view of my life, certainly, one could never have planned all this... in an effort to save my life. Now, I have to turn it around enough to help other people after they and the universe helped me. It has been a fun journey, if one doesn't take the hard parts personally and fully understand why you're still around. It feels like one is living in the Perplexus of life, the ball is constantly falling off the track, and you have to twist it and start again taking a different and more cautious route. In our pursuit of safety or what we think is known we are forgetting that we can out maneuver what the universe had planned for us.



I was talking with a friend about trying to take ownership of my latest venture, but knowing although it felt like it was the next smart move to find peace, I really did nothing but bump into the next thing. Perhaps, I was in the right place and time, possessing the correct mind space to accept what is present at this very moment. The universe had its’ plan and really all I have to do is just exist, as it will determine my course and even when I die. We falsely believe that we do things, but life lives us not the other way around.

When Dhamma is not Entertainment

When I first jumped off the complaining bus, and arrived at a local buddhist temple, I was captivated by the real job-holding dhamma teacher. It was a welcome change to hear something that before this time was all preconceived ideas. This dhamma teacher was normal, had kids and a wife and all the other assorted problems attached. How could I, as a single person(at that time), not get some great examples of where dhamma fits in daily life? Laughing while learning, being at first entertained. He led me and the sangha in meditation, then using simple analogy to weave dhamma and life's stuff that always seem to be directed at you. A quick intro, I won the pot 'o gold with a medical malpractice brain injury from a Dr. that exhausted his insurance, unbeknownst to me...leaving me disabled and dealing with questionable lawyers for 4 years.

Back to my temple, this male teacher taught one night a week, and slowly I graduated to two nights exposing me the other teachers talks. One suggested that this sangha is yours, and I began to help with set-up and clean-up. I met a few fellow sangha members, and each one had their own story and insights. Luckily, some were more experienced and helped me to dive deeper in simple understanding while working with them and others.

Then a new female teacher appeared, transferred from the East coast, who was a charming Brit, with a unique story of telling her Mom at a 3 that she would doing this, from a previous life experience. She was a simple, yet profound teacher, and one teaching I just knew her unspoken intention was to make dhamma clear to me. Perhaps, it might have been good timing or finally meditation was giving me small signs of awareness before unknown to me that prompted me to believe this, but “It” was working. She had a great personality, and a funny dhamma teaching husband to boot and both were liked by all. I began to more engaged in pujas, and longer weekend events there and away. And I was helping more around the temple, eventually helping to paint the entire building from her inspiration. I became friendly with an older member of the sangha, who's subtle teaching based on interest in my progress worked wonders in the after hours. We worked along each other setting up and taking down, and although 20 years older than I was tireless with her dedication to the practical aspects of dhamma. She was retired marriage counselor, so I think she used her wisdom from her practice on me.

In the first year of the "famous and loved" dhamma teacher appearance, she had to go to another temple far way to do her wonder work in the winter season for another temple. I didn't know in advance, so it was news to me. The temple would use new teachers, sometimes a bit green, until we found a new more seasoned dhamma teacher to fill in. I could sense my  disappointment, and low and behold, my comparing mind came in for a landing. After a couple of Tuesday nights, I continued my commitment to dhamma and helping out, but was still trying to judge the substitute teachers. When the older sangha member used to drive me home, I would talk with her, once complaining about the other subs and she got quiet, all while maintaining her smile. It then dawned on me that I was caught up in craving and aversion, because like most of us change is not a simple on-off switch. Sometimes, we need to steep in our errors, but that evening ride's talk helped. Dhamma was working it's little miracle with her subtle response, and she knew how to start the fire.

Growing from what is first perceived as an aversive, a teacher who might not be as entertaining as the one you like, and just watching the mind in the reactive state is dhamma in action. You can support the sangha instead of walking out because you are not satisfied.  One never knows if the new teacher will say something that will guide you further on the path. This simple awareness helped me grow tremendously with a little help from that older sangha member and by watching the mind in meditations. It made me realize Dhamma is not entertainment, it can be where you can grow in wisdom. I know now, that it was my first real sign that I was on the right path, many years ago and that awakening is a process of learning, and relearning until it becomes second nature.

It Happens, When It Happens

As I continue to peel away my past traumas in dreams and it meditation, I am also excitedly putting together my partner’s fiancé application. I am still shocked the law finally ruled in our favor based on my life’s experiences, confronting hatred and prejudice. I did not sit around and complain only these last 20+ years, I was still involved and out there. Facing things as they came up in work and life since 18. Perhaps, all this was in the cards when I first saw poor boys playing in a photo book on our family coffee as a young boy. This is one small piece that helped trigger my awareness of others and the world.

Could I be living a life that has already been laid out? I have told many people if I never had my near death and brain injury, I would have never be where I am today with less anger, more awareness and happiness. I really feel I would never get here even at this age, spiraling into disgust with life based on not feeling safe at home or out in the world. My “rebellion” was to find fault in everyone and the world, and graduating for me was doing in a form for a career, and socially in a sarcastic and funny way. Not to paint an entirely messed up life, there were some important people and events along the way allowing me to form relationships. A few people noted it, but nothing was eye-opening enough to totally shift course. 

The main thing that it has been awakening is my upcoming marriage feels like it is way less about me, and more about how to further make my partner’s dreams come true. Although when I bought my house it for the “two of us”, the other being my last relationship that fizzled under the strain of my near death and trying to figure out who I was, post injury. If I can step back whenever things get difficult with my current partner and see it from his eyes and see any displeasure as my expectations getting too grand. He will be coming from a foreign country, to an imaginary place he dreamt about, and this is my chance to see it all anew.  Luckily, he is sensible and we have already spoken about the fact that it may be hard to make it here, even with his masters, we’ve opted to perhaps sell and go somewhere else less expensive. I will try not to add any more burdens to his difficult life, just more opportunities to show my love through my letting go.  There is a great sigh of relief knowing if I die tomorrow he is provided for and I have at least helped one person. I feel I have turned my life around enough to make a difference and this provides a dampening of the whys of existence. We run around all over in ideas, desires and experiences with the hope to feel the contentedness underlying my existence right now. It doesn’t mean that I am free of problems and worries but they probably won’t be based on that old existential fear.

 

Going back to the laid out idea, why did I have a room full of religious paintings if I was not religious at all when I started? I would often say to people that I admired the unsigned paintings done in total devotion for any help they can give in this difficult human life. Not knowing it that it was really a sign that the ‘me’ has dissolved for them and I was nowhere near that when the paintings and I met first. Maybe I ought to attribute my collection as a collection of the ironies of life? Or they were just a time killer waiting for awareness to kick in?

What Won’t We Get Done?

Patiently sitting in the house of a stranger, it quickly becomes the familiar like the appearance of a slightly different movie set. It is your house in a different life or dream. You try not to interfere, but you know damn well it could be you in that bed, and these supposed strangers ...are your family. They are very considerate, you could feel their immense love for their friend and each other. The chanting was beautiful, halfway through profound wailing was heard and it took all my strength to remain calm and present with these emotions conveyed. I did not look or connect to see it who it was. I did not feel uneasy, only my heart was trying to reach out of my chest.


A man is dying...and his wife prepared the walk with flowers to greet the nuns with love when we arrived. In my head, I say this is beautiful, but private, so I stepped far away from their path. Suddenly the door opens and his wife bows to the nuns. I had asked earlier if I should stay in the car until they felt a need to have me enter, but they had no idea what was the status when we arrived. They were hoping my stroke experience would help him…just pure intention.

It really happened fast to him, and there was no time to plan. I won’t go into too many details out of respect. I walked outside to get some air and to pet the cats that had waited patiently near-by, sensing that something was up. A half hour later a man walked outside and we talked, me breaking the ice with an explanation why my voice was bad after I commented about the trees on the hill.  I asked, “Is that a tree house way up there?” I listened to what he had to say. “No, it is only the sky peaking through the trees.” Then easing into some of my story, because of his preplexed reaction to my voice. In the process, I reassured him that my near death left me with no fear and detailed the experience. The worries most of have about wanting more life in this body are only born out of the fear of the unknown.  I saw his red eyes clear up some and forehead relax knowing it what he heard was no bullshit. I encouraged him to meditate soon, to see what how we really think, and spend time alone with your mind. Without vocalizing it, I conveyed that difficult times are a catalyst for change. More fear will release naturally that you have been carrying around all these years. A good half-hour spent talking with total honesty, in a relaxed way.  Letting him lead where this conversation went.

It was time to leave, and talking with the nuns who I drove there, and unknown to me I was speaking to that family member who had cried earlier. My jaw dropped, that the same person who really needed my compassion had found it their own time in their own way. Instead of any kind of awkward, forced or fake sympathy I would have offered in the past…it just happened organically.

 

I knew I had to go to Mozart Brain Lab therapy and the puzzle that I was close to finishing was on my mind. It triggered something before arriving...We will always die with unfinished business.  So, I decided to stop it and just feel the emotions of this small symbol of death, right now. I would normally finish it, and look for some small sign of accomplishment... energetically. So this is not like me. As the session ended, which I did in meditation posture instead doing a puzzle or some other brain connection game and we moved to hearing chants to seal the therapy and relax the brain, I broke down. Not that it wasn't expected or embarrassing. I wanted to wail, but tried to keep it down, with the others clients in other rooms out of respect. Some was what remains in my body from my life experience and it can be expected. Could be that experience earlier, helped to access the things that need to come out. It was combined with a very frank discussion by a close surgeon friend, during the previous night’s dinner, talking about his clients generally to me about death. In a moment of silence and with complete honesty said, “No one really dies peaceful... unless I say, ‘good-night’ alluding to seeing them in the morning and then they pass with relaxation. This is why I think it is always about others, making them happy,” with a furrowed brow.

Unbinding, For a Start

Some Sri Lankan's can't swim. Maybe they never want to leave.

While in the process of healing it became obvious that I had to work on healing the dark parts of my soul, so that I could possibly help others as well as myself. And one good way would be to share my story in a public venue. I tried a little, back when I volunteered with post stroke therapy in a hospital in the process of answering questions of those curious.  A few patients and/or their families were appreciative, but after a while I began to see clients and almost immediately tell who do will do well and who would not.  A mixture of both their ability or inability to accept this new change and who came or did not of their family or caregivers. I quit when it became painful to see. But I did some winners and great families step up like mine did. Meanwhile, I raised my own standards, as more personal flaws became known to me, and set off working on them. 

Just a little history to point me the need to tell my story, and points to interconnectedness of people where a single incident of delight can trigger others.

I was in a jovial mood after Sri Lanka(thinking of seeing my partner after a 2nd trip solo) and making connections both with the security and a man who both happened to see my Buddha amulet once I took it from out of my shirt to show that it was no weapon when I was individually patted down. All the security were very happy to find out I am Buddhist(or more correct, I try to follow the Buddhist path), and then I showed them on my phone a photo of me when I ordained in Thailand. Instantly, I felt like I just got accepted into a big family, and everyone came to look. One gentleman who was a witness to this as well, wrote on a card of a monk and temple I need to go and meditate in when I return.  As well, when I arrived there three weeks earlier, the staff of Sri Lankan Airline's offered me a ride in their van to the local bus stop, even though the bus stops there, just a friendly goodwill offering to beat the rain that was soon going to follow. The new airport in Hambantota made me really not want to leave, I guess because more goodwill incidents kept happening.

All these special moments really do make one happier, setting off a chain reaction and thus when I arrived in Bangkok I was caring their good will in my heart. I chatted up one man waiting in the skytrain and he ignored me(possibly language reason), then quickly on to another who was Sikh trying to use a famous voice(Snatam Kaur) as a way to break the ice. There was no wall of separation between us as with most strangers. Yes, of course he had heard of her and seen her sing live. Although she was not needed, this particular gentleman had a clear heart and thus launched us into almost an hour long conversation. And this is how I return to the need to share my story, which we had talked about on the ride. He planted a seed. That it is and was unique enough with my near death. I am guessing he was a Dr, and a speaker who flew there for a talk that he was giving. I said that I am still trying to figure out which points to bring up that would help others grow in their own life. Here a few ideas of what I may discuss in my "broken voice" that will hopefully not convey pity but fearlessness in the near future.

Wewurukannala Vihara Temple

WAS ONCE'S Healing Hints:

— There are no guarantees in life or birthrights for that matter.

— When bad things happen don't compound them by taking on blame or assigning it to others, for that matter. Still working on this one.
— Turn “why me?” to “why not, me?” That took me at least a year!

— Raise your goals. When don't meet them, use them to inspire you for the following day.

— Believe it or not…you may have to use “making others happy” to access your own healing. That will become obvious with time.

—Examine your thinking at every level, even a slight negative mind state will become a cesspool of misery. (This lead me to meditation)

— Relaxing is the greatest skill you could learn in this lifetime.(learned from an ex-monk)

— Fall in love with your illness or disease. If that doesn’t work then fall in love with the wisdom you have gathered from it. I got to that point in a few years, that I now longer wanted my old life back.
— Be grateful for those that reject you, but be forever indebted to those that stick around.

— Admit your failures or laugh at them.(Jump start it by laughing at your past egocentric perfections)

— TRY EVERYTHING, it will eventually trigger the hope energy to blossom, and give you more reasons to continue thus allowing more healing. Let go of things that “should” work, and move on…we are each a unique being with a mish-mash of life experiences.
— Stop comparing yourself to others perceived as “bette” than you and actually see how lucky you are. You obviously are still here because you have more to learn before you die.

— No one will fully understand your suffering, flip it ...try to understand others suffering or just be quiet and observe.

all four photos were shot by my partner, soon to be my husband

Did You Take a Photo of It?

Thai street food for our dinner, old photo from past

Enjoying a dinner last night at an organic restaurant as a birthday gift from a friend and our main courses arrived. They were beautifully presented. He then said, “Take a photo of it,” since I had my camera with me.  I told him that my partner, who he knows as well, told me that to take photos of food when people in the world are starving is like bragging. Perhaps, in reflection, it would be like photographing all your money. 

My partner, as I have mentioned before, had a very tough life, dumped with some poor village elders who hardly had enough to eat themselves. In addition, he was nude until about 4, since they had no money for clothes for him. Food was scarce and they ate anything they could find, insects, snakes and rice rats were normal in their diet. Compassion for others grew out of his own suffering, his adoptive grandmother’s teaching and being born Buddhist. I then quietly reflected on the compassion I have learned from him, especially now since very shortly I will engage a lawyer to get started on finally marrying him. This is after 12 years and two honeymoons based on our own celebrations, and even having rings since 2008. Now, I have to prove that we have a relationship and have love, and we been evolving for as long as it has which to me sounds truly insulting. I will have to produce old emails, photographs, plane tickets and sworn testimonies from family and friends to prove its validity… and some cold hard cash. To do business in this world there are funny laws, and love really never comes into it sadly. It is all about money, not compassion. If I can’t take my own experience as use to strengthen my own compassion then really my life and struggles will have no purpose and I have learned nothing. And I can’t just let the perceived pressures of this process have any bearing on our relationship. Because he is worth it.

embarrassed by hard times