Wisdom from Grandma

I really wish I had these techniques down when I first starting dating.
It would have saved me from buying Disco shoes and party favors!
I guess what I really needed was....a good talking to.

Finite Reality

My brother said once to me when speaking about his kids he adores, "Not only I have I given them life, but also disappointments, heartache, illness, and death." It was a very aware statement, and not meant as a curse, but these all come with life. Part and parcel. Spinning off this I thought about my finite time on this planet. My family is close, and we talk a lot. My brother and I talk a couple times a year and email a handful a year, unlike my sister who we talk quite frequently. It is understood how busy he is with work and his two adorable kids who take much of his free time away from him. It is not a matter of love, and if I happen to die tomorrow I will do so knowing he loves me as I do him. But what does come to mind, is I can actually count the number left of his calls before I die. It becomes a very finite small number, whereas my sister’s calls seem infinite. Let's say 80 more calls providing I don't die tomorrow for the sake this argument. Then what I should really do is make every conversation we have free of petty worries, and normal bitchiness about my life. It will be difficult, yet mindful awareness on my part. Thinking back to the monks I met last June, they never complain about life, and are always inquisitive about you. It is not about them, so now I will work towards making it about my brother and his kids…for my brother.

Children of The Pyre and Bombay Summer

Coming out of Children of The Pyre, one thing that keeps coming back to me is how can the filmmakers walk away? One boy when interviewed said they work there to eat, and help their families ... “send my family 5000 rps($106) a month and I'll stop everything!”

Then Bombay Summer which offers a sensual slow pace of character development with none of that multi-tasking frenzy of CNN's Situation Room. Refreshing! Showing that some choices in life are made for us and we have to work with our karma.

Murals in my Life

After living in the mission in the 80’s and early 90’s it was a natural for me to go to Book Launch of Street Art San Francisco: Mission Muralismo Friday night where I shot these four. A great collection of Murals tracing their post-war origins to present focusing on the last 30 years. I was busy trying to find a good shot, and the guy reading the book that ended up being the last one. I asked him if he was going to buy it, and if not I would... so I could get several artists to sign it. That was luck, and an ironic shot. Leaving, I shot one of my painterly photos seen here. Feeling happy while walking through the park, I practiced my Pali chants, accidentally dropping my phone case in the dark. By the time I noticed because it was in my unfeeling hand I was in a nearby neighborhood. I was feeling around and a guy said, “You dropped something.” But he never saw me drop it, and it was only reading my searching body language. Which left me a little puzzled why he would offer this useless info. But I was determined to remain calm, retraced my steps in the street lit area. Not finding it, I got to my car to get a torch and ran back and found it deeper in the park. It was never a problem, because I did not let it become a problem.

Dimming Opinions

After last week’s response when I chirped in my opinion to another woman working too hard in yoga, I have done some reflection. I got a few opinions, in fact just a little too many and maybe I can use this as jumping off point to try to narrow giving them like candy. How about a reasonable goal of 50% less? Sure, I know that I should never give an opinion unless asked for, really. You and I know, friends and others rarely ask for your opinion unless they know for sure it reinforces theirs. I won’t repeat that old cliché. But I honestly thought that the 50 years on this planet have given some authority. Just a smidgen. Oops, maybe this is an ego problem. (shuffling feet)

Anyway, if I truly want wisdom, I have to be hell of a lot more understanding of people and the world. Each of us walks a different path, and nobody really wants my wisdom by repeating the suffering I have gone through to get it. Cry me a river, you say. I know my suffering always pales in comparison, especially now writing this over a glass of wine after meditation. So, I will go to sleep knowing I have more work to on now and in meditation for a long while. The brass ring of wisdom is always just out of reach.

Our Love is Easy

A fairly recent graduate of N.D.U.(Near Death University) of which I am alumni. Here she is with Herbie Hancock talking about her healing, and singing.

This is a treat, someone said Billie Holidayesque. Today, while meditating and totally into the peace in my mind, a 1/2 hour into it at the gym someone came right in front of me and jumped up and down. I guess it was done to see if it would disturb me, but alas, even I was shocked...never a flinch, nor did I open my eyes. I never know who did it, because when the mediation ended I did not care to find the person looking into faces. Yet, another relaxation level for me working on the fact that I may die today. Our Death is Easy!

Are You Worth It?

Fall has hit big time, a chill that never seems to fully disappear even with a sunny day. I went to a fundraiser for LGBT Historical Society looking for a new museum space. Funny, I feel like gay history now, since I have donated a few interesting pieces to them. I participated, but like a boy in plastic bubble with all the noise, it made it almost impossible to talk.

This week, I have been busy with my refinishing my front door. It is still a good weatherproof door but subject to sun, and the clear coat was screaming for chapstick. I am trying to figure out the best way to make it last longer and make it fun and interesting. Meanwhile, it means a cooler house, and I don’t want to buy a new door, as it seems like such a waste of money. Not like I really enjoy sanding, but trying to introduce mindfulness to it. I began to think of my Dad spending hours sanding his boat or a piece of art using the fine touch of his hands to feel the surface. I thought that all he sanded and all the time he spent is lost. Now, why I am I sanding again? I guess to save some money, and the environment by not throwing, yet another, thing away.

Earlier in the day, a neighbor finally contacted me about doing some color consulting on their house. The husband likes to joke about everything in a dead pan sarcastic way. And has for years. He said some neighbor hates my exterior color without telling me who. But I think it is said to knock me down a little, because they have watched me fix my house for years. Or maybe it was his wife’s idea to call me and not his? Never the less, I feel like I have to prove my worth, but I am using this one as yet another patience test. Like most people I contact, they want free suggestions about everything. But upon seeing their interior, it had never been redone in over 20 years. So, I said you are wasting your money to ask me to do a color in rooms that have never been updated. Honestly, they could use any color and it is not going to make the room better. They aren't a clean slate when you keeping old stuff. They confessed they would rather travel then fix their house. I said that's smart, and we talked about ideas where to go next, to relax the husband. Later, I said lets do the outside, because I have come up with a few ideas that will hide the mismatch of a cheap 70’s redo on lopped on a 30’s house. That is one thing that will make the presence seem like it is together. But in the process we talk about where next to live and agree that our houses will soon be someone else’s problem. So, I leave our meeting in a light mood, and hopefully next visit we can finalize colors.