The Privacy of Intimate Feelings

Sunday, June 30, 2013 (07:40):

Today is the fifth day Bonnie has been in I.C.U. She is having some tubes taken out at this moment. I am supposing that this is a good thing. You just never know. She was sleeping at this time. That is a good sign too. We will wait patiently and hope for the best.

Now, I sit.

Her MD just let me know that he expects her kidney to recover full function in a couple of days. She is sleeping well and just had a feeding tube put in… that is a good thing because it means she will be eating solid foods soon. She’ll still be in I.C.U. a few more days.

I just want to put this out there. I do love and appreciate everyone’s concern but I have to say this.

Yesterday I went to a meeting in which everyone, with very good intentions, was asking me how Bonnie’s doing and almost insisting that I tell them what I’ve had to tell others what seemed a thousand times. I felt obligated to let them know but I really wanted to attend that meeting for peace of mind. Having to tell people over and over again what I thought was bad news was tiring. I sorta flipped out… just didn’t want to talk… wanted them all to simply let me be. I know that they care but, please, just let me know you care and don’t press me for information I haven’t offered. Phone calls are good but please be patient. I will try to answer the dozen or more messages you kindly left. Thank you, and I do appreciate your concern too.

This has been a valuable lesson about how I would like to treat other people. Treat them as I would like to be treated. Be patient and; if the worried-one, or grieving-one, chooses to volunteer information, just listen. The ones that did that said more to me than all the advice and well-wishing. I know that the intentions were from a good place but respect is so much more important than good intentions. To me, so much of it is about being compassion… empathy more so than sympathy.

I came to appreciate facebook because it puts some distance between those I wish to inform and it allows me the privacy of my more intimate feelings.

geo 5,393

The Faith of Estrangement

This morning I didn’t feel like praying and this is where the faith of estrangement kicks in. I pray out of pure habit because I feel in my heart that there is no one on the other end of my pleas that will answer me. This happens despite all the past experience where I have been humbled enough to surrender to the will of One greater than all of my troubles. It is a hard place to be it but it is in such times that the Heart of Compassion does a strange trick. A hope arises from the center of my being… not so much the kind of hope that believes my prayers will be answered exactly as I wish… rather, it is the kind of hope that tells me she will be alright… that we will get through this no matter what. So I sit or kneel regardless of how I feel or what I think. Doubt… rationality… does it really matter? All that disappears and I resign to it. I have, after all, lived and loved through one catastrophe after another… why not this one?

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Everything Changes

Friday, June 28, 2013:

Reflect on this: The realization of impermanence is paradoxically the only thing we can hold on to, perhaps our only lasting possession. It is like the sky, or the earth. No matter how much everything around us may change or collapse, they endure.

            Say we go through a shattering emotional crises… our whole world seems to be disintegrating… our husband or wife suddenly leaves us without warning. The earth is still there; the sky is still there. Of course, even the earth trembles now and again, just to remind us that we cannot take anything for granted…

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

It is another day at the I.C.U. and I’m headed up there now to see Bon Bon. I’m hoping she’ll be improved enough to be moved to a regular room. Really…

geo 5,390

Surgery

 I don’t have much to say this morning as my Bonnie is now in the O.R. the next 3 – 4 hours for a mitro-valve replacement or repair (i.e., open heart) surgery. She has been in good spirits and is brave. The surgeon has a good reputation and the treatment at Cottage Hospital is way above par compared to any other I’ve had experience with. She will be in intensive care until this evening but won’t be wanting to see anyone… probably even me.

            Surgery is one of those events in life that leaves our lives in the hands of a nearly complete stranger. We trust that the surgeon is good at his/her craft. We trust in that and surrender. Bonnie and I do appreciate your prayers today. May the healing hand of the Heart of Compassion pass over her heart today...

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Before I get Busy

We went to the beach to see the rising of the Super Moon. We stood in awe as it rose above the sea. Within minutes I pulled out a camera to take a picture but, since the camera was unfamiliar to me, I couldn't find the settings in the dark to catch the image properly. I did snap a couple of shots but I eventually gave up and simply held Bonnie’s head close to my chest. It was a moment in time that couldn't be caught on camera. I think now about it and remember the many times in places that I had a camera… took a shot… and moved on as though I had experienced the place or event. The truth is that, most of the time, I look at old pictures of places and people in my past and they don’t hold anything for me if I didn't stop and appreciate them in the now as I took them. However, I have found that I am able to stop and pause to give each moment… each person I make contact with… more than a snap-shot. I can do that with an open heart and mind if I take a few precious moments before I get busy today to take a few deep breaths and be here in the now.

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Let God Play

But does that trust require that we be blind to other people’s motives or, indeed, to our own? Not at all; this would be folly. Most certainly, we should assess the capacity for harm as well as the capability for good in every person that we would trust. Such a private inventory can reveal the degree of confidence we should extend in any given situation.

As Bill Sees It, p.144

Daily Reflections

 

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Whenever we’d see someone acting up a friend used to make me laugh by coyly commenting, “There goes God again.” At another time she would have said, “Let God play on a rainy day.” It is one of those Namaste principles in action causing me to see the god in other people. This can be a particularly disturbing notion if our ideal of God within us is as perfect as mathematical certainty. I've heard it said that, when a Navajo rug is woven, a stitch is dropped in humility so as to not mock the perfection of the Creator. The rug loses no value because of this flaw. Truthfully, it has value because of the flaw. If I drop a stitch now and then the fabric of my life doesn't entirely unravel. I once looked hard for any reason to doubt... if I found one defect of character; or, more often than not, a defect I didn't like, I’d completely dismiss the person or idea. This comes from taking life too seriously and expecting everyone to act rationally; at least, according to my logic. Most of the time, in fact, my logic has a dropped stitch somewhere. It is this image of perfection I try to project that leaves me secretly feeling like a hypocrite because I come nowhere near my ideal of perfection. This is as suffocating to the spirit as locking a child indoors on a rainy day. In other words… I am better off if I just watch God play regardless of the weather.

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Forgiveness

Imagine vividly a situation where you have acted badly, one about which you feel guilty, and about which you wince to even think of it.

Then, as you breathe in, accept total responsibility for you actions in that particular situation, without in any way trying to justify your behavior. Acknowledge exactly what you have done wrong, and wholeheartedly ask for forgiveness. Now, as you breathe out, send out reconciliation, forgiveness, healing, and understanding.

So you breathe in blame, and breathe out the undoing of harm, you breathe in responsibility, breathe out healing, forgiveness, and reconciliation.

This exercise is particularly powerful and may give you the courage to see the person whom you have wronged, and the strength and willingness to talk to him or her directly and actually ask for forgiveness from the depths of your heart.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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The forgiveness principle is the most powerful meditation principle to practice I know of. It is powerful because I know I have neither the willingness nor the courage to humble myself in such a manner but, time and time again, I have been relieved of the burden of guilt by simply breathing it in and breathing forgiveness out. I now have a situation that requires of me to let go of an ages’ old resentment. Yet, I can’t. Even to think of it roils old passions. I have been forgiven and forgave years ago; but, Father’s Day brought it all up once more the past two years. I can’t ask forgiveness and I can’t forgive.

         I can’t stand myself for feeling this way and I also feel like such a hypocrite when I sit to meditate or when I try to express anything along spiritual lines. The situation is such that even to try to ask forgiveness face to face would appear to be stalking and there are laws against that.

So I breathe it in… the responsibility for my part… no blame or justifications… and breathe out healing, forgiveness, understanding, and recognize that I don’t even want reconciliation at this point. I just want the suffering to go away... to stop.

            The message I get from this sitting is a simple one: “Walk through it… the Heart of Compassion is always with you through the valley and shadow of death.”

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Deception of Beliefs

LEARN MORE

THAN THOU TROWEST

Have more than thou showest,

Speak less than thou knowest,

Lend less than thou owest,

Ride more than thou goest,

Learn more than thou trowest,

Set less than thou throwest,

Leave drink and thy whore,

And keep in-a-door,

And thou shalt have more

Than two tens to a score.

The Fool

From the Tragedy of King Lear

By William Shakespeare

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Oh, to be as wise as a fool… I had to look up the word, trow, in my Random House: trow (trӧ), v.i. archaic, to believe, think, or suppose… a belief suggested in my Webster as mental acceptance without directly implying certitude on the part of the believer. King Lear remains one of my favorite of Shakespeare’s tragedies… more so than Hamlet because King Lear was deluded by his own perceptions by favoring flattery over the true devotion of his daughter, Cordelia. Her mistake was being faithful to the truth while her sisters’ ambitions resorted to deception. He easily bought it as have I when my desires are opposed by my values. It seems so simple to see the error of judgment made by King Lear but, for myself, to be deluded is another tale of woe. As King Lear went insane, and in that insanity was redeemed in mind at great cost and loss, can I find respite in the midst of the chaos my own suppositions? Can I learn more from the disasters caused by my beliefs? It takes time but I have time for that… what else is there to do?

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Pain: As It Is

Whatever you do, don’t shut off your pain; accept your pain and remain vulnerable. However desperate you become, accept your pain as it is, because it is in fact trying to hand you a priceless gift: the chance of discovering, through spiritual practice, what lies behind sorrow.

“Grief,” Rumi wrote, “can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.”

Glimpse After Glimpse,

Sogyal Rinpoche

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Accepting pain takes a good deal of self-appraisal and curiosity to delve into because most of my adult life has been devoted to pain avoidance… especially emotional pain. Feeling challenged by my powerlessness over it, anger is but one of my default responses. I lash out with careless words or plain old mindlessness, sinking further into it… dwelling on it in a downward spiral… replaying the tape over and over… thinking of reasons and what I would say if I could confront her over again. At the gates of a self-made hell, depression greets me with an embrace that becomes chains… a smothering hold on my heart. By the time I get to this point I have no power of my own to break out of it. It is then, in a prison of my own making, that the idea of seeking the Heart of Compassion seems most distasteful and I usually reject that which can be my only salvation. This is the point where pain becomes a teacher that gives me a choice: either stay where I am, or get the help I need. Getting the help I need comes from the compassion that drives forgiveness… I can accept that I am unwilling to forgive but I am willing to be relieved of suffering? This is where it is as it is today but tomorrow is another day. I've been here before and I can’t, I won’t, stay long.

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Letting Go

How can I write about “letting go” when inside of my heart I can’t let go of resentments from wounds inflicted decades ago? I have to confess, as I examine the deeply felt anger and the blunt-force pounding of a broken heart, that they still revisit me now and then. The truth is that it never goes away. I’d be the worst kind of hypocrite if I didn’t admit that I am incapable of forgiving of my own volition. I can, if I allow self-pity to surface, attempt to cause harm by my words and I have done that as recently as yesterday. Not only that, but, my heart refuses to apologize. When I kneel, and sit to pray and meditate, I feel like I am a worse hypocrite than mentioned already. I carry the burden of suffering like it is the host to the altar of sacrifice. There, I lay it down before the Heart of Compassion and I try to do my best to cause no further harm.

 geo 5,379

Fathers Day Tribute

Dad playing his harmonica that
he carried with him everywhere.

The standard-brand paint religions, whether Jewish, Christian, Mohammedism, Hindu, or Buddhist, are --- as now practiced --- like exhausted mines: very hard to dig. With some exceptions not too easily found, their imagery, their rites, and their notions of the good life don’t seem to fit in with the universe as we now know it, or with a human world that is changing so rapidly that much of what one learns in school is readily obsolete on graduation day.

Alan Watts

The Book, p. 5

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The traditional role of the father and the nuclear family appears to be almost obsolete, today, at the beginning of this century. At least this is true in the West. So many of us seem to have little or no idea of what it is to “Man-Up”.

“The Book” was written by Alan Watts in 1966 to pass on to his son … that era is history for most of us now. After all, my perception is that anything that happened around twenty years before I was born is history (i.e., before my mother and father were born). I remember watching the annual Lilac and Apple Blossom parades (in Spokane and Wenatchee Washington), when I was a kid. There were still a few WWI, Spanish American War, and even Civil War veterans marching, or riding along in convertibles. WWII vets were from the era I was born into but the rest was just in the history books. Ancient history began somewhere vaguely before the Revolutionary War. The laptop on which I type this reflection out on was history years before I bought it even though I tried to buy the most recent model.

            To the young, today is present time; but for some of us in our sixties, today was already history before we ate breakfast. It is a perception of time tempered by age and the passing, or soon to be passing, of those who sired and gave birth to us. Today is a day put aside in which I honor my father and show a token of gratitude for the sacrifices he made on his children’s’ behalf. For others it is perhaps a day to forgive his failings or to see our own part in the context of our failings.

            My dad isn’t likely to read this because he has been around for over ninety years and his eyesight is failing. But I honor him because he gave me life… taught me standards… showed me what it is to be a man. I regret that I didn’t completely follow his example but, what I did catch on to, has been so much a blessing… I like to brag him up while I have the chance. I will call him today to tell him... "I love you Dad."

geo 5,379

Coffee Karma

My day started out with clicking the on switch button on my coffee maker. It is old and I have already ordered a new one… should be coming today or Monday. Getting ready to sit and meditate while the coffee is brewing, I looked at the machine and saw that 6 cups of water was no longer in the reservoir and none… nothing… zip was in the carafe. Well… well, I thought. It took me a nano/second to figure out that the water had to be going somewhere before I heard a dripping… then a flow onto the other side of the counter that divides my kitchen from the living room… right onto my beautiful restored Remington!!!! I quickly sentenced the old machine to the sink and mopped and dapped up what had already soaked the living room carpet (it is amazing how much water a ten cup carafe holds when you see it spilled on a floor!). I then proceeded to pour a carafe load into my old trusty water boiler... tea kettle... and then the hot water into the filter holder of the old machine.

            Well now, a reasonable man would suppose that my coffee karma would be over at this juncture… but no. I made up my usual full cup of coffee and creamer... put it on my desk... fired up

my laptop and walked away. It was then I heard the fan of the cooling pad under it making a strange noise. I put the computer to the side (thank GAWD) and the picked up the cooling pad as though I would know what to do from there. My coffee cup had other ideas because it tipped over, spilling its content on my desk and then it spread rapidly under a brand-new wireless mouse I'd just bought last Wednesday. Now the mouse doesn't work and I have to use this wild/card built/in keyboard mouse that strays the cursor (or curser!) around the page if I pass a hand within an inch of its surface.

            I will sit and meditate now: let the peace of the cosmos still my raging monkey mind.

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P.S.

Bonnie is doing fine: she had a catheter put up her leg to have a look-see for any possible blockage in her arteries and to see whether it will be a mitro-valve repair or replacement (She has mitro-valve regurgitation going on there in the ole blood pump). The good news is that there is no blockage but the docs are going to wait for surgery to figure out what is going on with the anemia bit she has been going through since last Nov.

Blissful Peace

There are two ways to live your life.

One is as though nothing is a miracle.

The other is as though everything

Is a miracle.

Albert Einstein

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It comes down to just a little effortless switch of the mind. I expect miracles and when I don’t open my eyes to them… a letter in the mail… news from afar…  I become a blank… depression sets in and nothing has any glory left in it. Then something catches my eye and the wonder returns: the light cast from the evening sun through the lacy leaves of a Mimosa tree… the blossoms of a Jacaranda… a bowl of rice… a lover’s laughter. It all returns in a flash. Is it so wrong to be tossed about by raw emotions? Isn’t that what passion for life is about? I don’t meditate to still my emotions but to fire them up! Fire them up with the will to live… to stand and breathe in the power and this is blissful peace.

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A Bitter Pill

When I am threatened… when my options narrow themselves down to zip… nil… void… I fall back on primitive beliefs for rescue. The adage that insists “there are no atheists in the foxhole” arises out of such desperation. After that comes the kind of resignation that accepts the will of God. It no longer matters what my philosophical or abstract theoretical theology has defined of God and God's will in more pleasant times, I kneel and pray… I beg and plead… my hope is far away and I cry out like a bleating lamb to the slaughter. This is where I am in all humility… this is where I am closest to the Heart of Compassion even though I might hate what is going down around me. Do the next right thing… that is all… open my heart to compassion and let it bleed. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in our philosophy…” said the Bard. I have to leave it at that and be grateful for the love that has been shown to me and the bitter pill I must swallow at times to live life fully. Is the future so bleak that I give up or the past cumbersome enough for me to let go of it? Is the present moment so frightening that I can't live in it and be grateful? When the time comes I will know.

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Aside from that, my Bon Bon is going to have open heart surgery next Tuesday... fear... smashing doubt... crushing anticipation...

Depression

Heart heavy and mind fogged with an enduring sadness… a sadness … a bleak numbness that blots out all joy … not so dreary as grief… it sits on my chest. It sits doing nothing on the border of resignation… resignation: the companion of acceptance… acceptance that goes nowhere quickly and does nothing brashly… heart heavy and mind fogged by sadness, I trudge through sorrow.

Depression: there is nothing else to do but to allow it to pass…. I’ve been here before and will visit this desert again… but I don’t live in this wasteland…. just passing through. Allow it to pass because of its own time it will…

Here is where I seek refuge in the Heart of Compassion. Here is where I seek refuge in the Dharma. Here is where I seek refuge in the Sangha.

geo 5,377

The Bridge

If resistance to meditation is a common feature of your practice, then you should suspect some subtle error in your basic attitude. Meditation is not a ritual conducted in a particular posture. It is not a painful exercise, or period of enforced boredom. And it is not a grim, solemn obligation. Meditation is mindfulness. It is a new way of seeing and it is a form of play. Meditation is your friend. Come to regard it as such and resistance will disappear like smoke on a summer breeze.

Henepola Gunaratana;

Mindfulness in Plain English

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I remember how I felt when I first began to regularly practice meditation. I have a fused spine so it is too difficult for me to assume the lotus position… or to sit directly on the ground. Others, who have experience with hatha yoga, look so beautiful and full of grace as they sit with ease for as long as they wish with legs crossed. I had to give up preconceived notions of what meditation was to me before I found that a short stool, or even a chair with a back, works best. If I am to relax enough to quiet the mind, I can’t be distracted by a ridiculous adherence to self-imposed physical discomfort. The bridge to cross the stream of consciousness into mindfulness is already constructed; why then should I impose on myself a forced march to ford it?

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The Sky is the Limit

Take care not to impose anything on the mind. When you meditate, there should be no effort to control, and no attempt to be peaceful. Don’t be overly solemn or feel that you are taking part in some special ritual; let go even of the idea that you are meditating. Let your body remain as it is, and your breath as you find it.

            Think of yourself as the sky, holding the whole universe.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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It is one of those paradoxes that I put aside a part of my morning with a space for meditation and yet I still must drop all pretenses that I am doing anything more special than breathing… taking the time to do nothing more than to breathe. Spiritual competitiveness tells me that we have to have candles, incense, a beautiful altar and the best: the most righteous church, the best master, guru, teacher, sponsor or guide to practice the dharma, the Steps or the best of any one of a thousand spiritual disciplines. While there is nothing “wrong” about any of these extras; and, not only that, I have found it to be important for me to set aside a time and place to start my day; yet, when I sit, I am sitting…that is all. This attitude makes meditation portable. I can pause and breathe while waiting in line at the market. I can breathe while in traffic. I can breathe anywhere I am and I can make contact with my inner master… the Heart of Compassion. This frees me from the trap of the ego… of being a follower or a disciple of an idol that will fall.

Isn’t it an amazing phenomena that (if I progress enough to be honest with myself), whenever I put anyone on a pedestal, the edifice crumbles with time and I find out that the person I admire is human or that this practice or religion is made up of humans? In this space in which I simply breathe, I am not a Buddhist, Hindu, a Catholic, a Christian, Muslim, Jew, or a disciple of anyone. To become more human is the idea here: to become a disciple of everyone and not anyone. The Heart of Compassion is open to all of us at any time and any place. It is open to me and I am the sky.

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Thoughts Have Density

If we are interdependent with everything and everyone, even our smallest, least significant thought, word, and action have real consequences throughout the universe.

Throw a pebble into a pond. It sends a shiver across the surface of the water. Ripples merge into one another and create new ones. Everything is inextricably interrelated. We come to realize that we are responsible for everything we do, say, think, responsible in fact for ourselves, everyone and everything else, and the entire universe.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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I once had a friend that often said, “Be careful what you think, thoughts have density.” It seems a heavy burden of responsibility once I accept this proposition. However, I have found that I can change my thinking by not taking action on negative impulses and simply trying to change how I act and react to fear. Fear is at the root… the boogieman… behind and underneath motivations based on hatred, greed… lies and deception project a false image of my self and the confusion this causes multiplies exponentially. But, I have come to understand that the opposite is also true and that positive energy is more productive and powerful. Even the slightest positive gesture can turn around a mountain of despair. The ripple effect is seen everywhere… time and time again… a handful of people have opened minds to whole new paradigms. It can be seen in the evolution of societies in the grand scale but all these changes came about with a simple insight that was acted upon (from Jesus Christ to Mahatma Gandhi to Martin Luther King). All the evil in the world is counterbalanced by simple gestures of kindness displayed by each and every one of us… from the love of a mother for her child to a hand reaching out to help another, we are connected.

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Do I Owe Asclepius a Rooster?

I am never far from those with faith, or even from those without it, though they do not know it, though they do not see me. My children will always, always, be protected by my compassion.

Padmasambhava

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My heart wants to know, in times of tragedy, where is the Heart of Compassion? Yesterday a madman with a gun killed four innocent people in Santa Monica. His victims certainly started out their day without thought that a bullet would take their lives before the day ended. Where is the compassion of God in these instances? It seems arbitrary and unjust… these people didn’t have it coming. I feel it is important to ask these questions and to pray for understanding. More importantly, the arbitrariness of these senseless acts of violence make it all the more important that those I love know it; that my actions are just and clear; that my grudges are settled; that my conscience is clean. In the end it doesn’t really matter whether God is just or not. I leave those questions to the philosophers. As far as my life is concerned, I am enjoying my morning coffee and I can check my balances, knowing whether or not I “owe Asclepius a rooster?”

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Contorted Expectations

Since most of us are born with an abundance of natural desires, it isn't strange that we often let these far exceed their intended purpose. When they drive us blindly, or we willfully demand that they supply us with more satisfactions or pleasures than are possible for us, that is the point at which we depart from the degree of perfection that God intended for us here on earth. That is the measure of our character defects, or, if you wish, of our sins.

TWELVE STEPS AND

TWELVE TRADITIONS, p. 65

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This is one of the rare mentions of sin in AA literature. Most of us call them character defects and, by doing so, the moral disdain for our shortcomings is removed. Morality might be fine for religious folk obsessed with honing their lives towards perfection; however, some of us don’t need the implied guilt associated with the word, sin. This isn't to avoid the consequences of our actions but we are careful not to be sponsors of a self-righteous condemnation of ourselves or others. I’m not even so sure that God, or, whatever we think of as a Higher Power, has any expectations of perfection from any of us. I don’t mean to be controversial about this but, experience tells me that this is not only a futile ambition, but it can be counter-productive, to strive for perfection rather than improvement along these lines. Isn't it a better ambition to be relaxed… calm… serene… comfortable and at peace with who we really are instead of always contorting ourselves into a frustrated ball of anxiety towards an unattainable goal?

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Why Not Reflect?

Thinking of Dr. Conner

Looking into death needn't be frightening or morbid. Why not reflect on death when you are really inspired, relaxed, and comfortable, lying in bed, or on vacation, or listening to music that particularly delights you? Why not reflect on it when you are happy, in good health, confident, and full of well-being? Don’t you notice that there are particular moments when you are naturally inspired to introspection? Work with them gently, for these are moments when you can go through a powerful experience, and your whole worldview can change quickly. These are moments when former beliefs crumble on their own, and you can find yourself being transformed.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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It has been my custom to refrain from writing about death in these reflections. This has been because my aim is to encourage others who are considering all the alternatives to the mystical/spiritual path and do not wish to compel beliefs out of fear of the inevitable, with carrot and stick approaches, promising the bliss of heaven or threatening the tortures of hell. However, something happened yesterday that has had me reflecting on the topic since then that I would be remiss if I neglected to comment on it here.

            We were at Bonnie’s scheduled doctor’s follow-up appointment at which she was asked if she had a recent blood test. She said that she'd one last week for her appointment with the surgeon who’d performed the operation on her back. Without so much as a twitch or hint of grief, the physician said, “Dr. Conner is dead.”

            We were both sure that there had to be a mistake. We had just seen him a few days before and her surgeon, at that time, appeared to be a picture of health. He was a bright, healthy, middle-age man who was always very thorough and honest with us about the alternatives to surgery and the prospects for recovery. However, it turned out that, after a bike ride, he was not feeling well and laid down on the couch where he simply died…. just like that!

            A kind, intelligent and very professional doctor whose work had eased the suffering of so many, had passed away without any rhyme or reason or so much as a cosmic wink. It just doesn’t seem fair that life and death are so arbitrary… that people can go… the good or the bad. 

          After thinking of these things my mind goes back to all the people I've known who have all passed away just as arbitrarily. I think of all the funerals and wakes I've attended thinking, "Better him than me." But, nonetheless, I have come to believe that it is impossible to live well without considering what it means to die well: awake, aware, mindful and compassionate. Does it matter all that much? To me, the point is that I make the best of my short spin on the planet and to fear not that which every sentient being will eventually experience. The Buddhist prayer comes to mind:

Everything changes, everything passes,

things appearing, things disappearing.

But --- when all is over --- everything having appeared and having disappeared, being and extinction, both transcended ---

Still the basic emptiness and silence abides,

And that is blissful Peace.

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I Let It Go at That

If he thinks he can do the job in some other way, or prefers some other spiritual approach, encourage him to follow his own conscience. We have no monopoly on God; we merely have an approach that worked with us. But point out that we alcoholics have something in common and that you would like, in any case, to be friendly. Let it go at that.

Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 95

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The open-minded attitude about spiritual practices and recovery expressed in the literature of AA has been one of the Fellowship's most attractive aspects for me. No one tried to convert me or cram God down my throat. Once I became convinced that the program of AA was the most practical and affordable approach, I became more tolerant of opinions expressed by others… either of God or of recovery. I was pleasantly surprised that very few old-timers in the Fellowship expressed disdain for alcohol or others who used alcohol. They even spoke affectionately at times about the effects of alcohol in their past and seemed to have no compulsion at all to force anyone else to join us in abstaining from it. One old-timer spoke so affectionately about her favorite drink that she hoped Saint Peter would present her with a dry martini when she approaches the Pearly Gates. We are only concerned about the alcoholic that still suffers and is seeking a solution to his/her drinking problem. There is no superior philosophy or authority in the groups. At first I wondered if there might be a back-room I would be taken into after a few years to be let in on a secret agenda… of a hierarchy and leadership pulling the strings behind the scenes… or a Christian conspiracy of some sort. However, I have found that my experience is never questioned. I leave my opinions at the door and it is my experience alone that perks up the ears and causes a chuckle when I share it with my fellows... and I let it go at that.

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What Is Compassion?

What is compassion? It is not simply a sense of sympathy or caring for the person suffering, not simply a warmth of heart toward the person before you, or a sharp clarity of recognition of their needs and pain, it is also a sustained determination to do whatever is possible and necessary to help alleviate their suffering.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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Clearly, these are times in which compassion isn't a luxury of the idle… if it ever has been. I have a hard time with it because there is so much to despise going on in the world. It takes a constant monitoring of, and balancing of, emotions with reason to be able to sort things out. The immediate temptation is to go to the defaults; accusation, blame, resentment and anger. Tyranny reigns over one venue of oppression or another; whether it is political, religious or in plain and simple interpersonal relationships. I can’t imagine managing these feelings without pausing and relying on a Power greater than myself. I prefer to call God in specific terms, the Heart of Compassion, because in calling God that I define who and what it is I am relying upon. If I rely on an abstract and vague concept for God, I can color it any way I wish… and history has shown that corruption and every sort of religious dementia, inquisition and fatwa’s, over how God is defined, or demands, arises out of what mad men have called God.

As I meditate on the Heart of Compassion, something miraculous happens: my heart opens up and, beyond emotion and reason, a clarity of mind sees through to its dominion. A rhythm resonates deep within… I breathe… becoming grateful for my breath my heart beats. The universe takes on a fresh perspective and I see you in a new light… heart to heart. Leaders of the world of commerce and industry… nations and armies… the grey-back gorillas among us become equals… don’t have to sucked-up to or feared. We see each other at ground level… the attitude is infectious. In Aikido they call it melding… turning negative energy around… around but not against itself… for itself… ourselves. No longer fighting anyone or anything, there is peace… there are solutions, not problems. The means become commiserate with the ends instead of justifying them. Yielding to the Heart of Compassion my heart becomes compassionate.

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Renouncing Victory & Defeat

Victory produces hatred; he that is defeated is afflicted with

            suffering;

He that has renounced both victory and defeat lives in tranquility

 and happiness.

Dhammapada 201

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This idea of ceasing to fighting anything and anyone… even alcohol, was a revolutionary attitude idea at the time AA was founded. The whole idea of it was that, after a sufficient spiritual renewal, the temptation to drink simply no longer occurs to us. If I resist the temptation by hating it, I am still in its grip. How many times have we seen preachers who rant and rave against perceived sexual improprieties; prostitution, homosexuality and so on, become so obsessed that they eventually get caught using escorts or are found to be closeted homosexuals themselves? I am equally frustrated by the so called war on drugs. How much more suffering does the futility of prohibition evoke by creating an opportunity for drug lords and mobsters to profit? All that the war on drugs seems to have accomplished is the creation of an underground market just as viscous as Prohibition did in the twenties. When seen as a mental health problem, with a prognosis and treatment, instead of a criminal or moral problem to be punished, the prisons could possibly empty out of over a third of their inmates. I’m not so naïve to believe that it completely solves the problem but the consequences of abuse have a chance to become manageable.

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Empathy, not Sympathy

Empathy connects while sympathy deflects.

I was going about my business of the day and then, out of the blue my life changed forever by an accident of fate that I was in no way prepared for. In my case it was a very dramatic one. One night, around nine pm, I was on a bicycle headed for the bank to take a few bucks out of the ATM. My last memory was of flying over the handlebars. After awaking on the grass of a lawn at dawn, I walked the bike home (the front wheel was twisted like a pretzel, took a shower and went to work). Not only was I unprepared for that particular accident but I was not ready for the changes the future held for me or how I would deal with the changes. While on the job (my job title was; Artist/Facilitator at the California Medical Correctional Facility in Vacaville, Ca), a fellow worker noticed I was acting strangely… slurring words and confused. He rushed me to the hospital where I experienced seizures and X-rays showed I suffered a fracture from ear to ear at the base of my skull. I had to start my life over from that day on, tabula rasa. My career was on hold and then abandoned. I became unable to put together more than a sentence at a time for a while but, after recovering a bit from that, I thought I was over it. Struggling with suicidal thoughts and desperate to recover some of my abilities, I became homeless nonetheless. I kept trying to do what I had been trying to do before but found myself failing in every direction because I had left my injuries untreated. I thought I could fix myself but the confusion only grew.

            Far too many have suffered brain injury and walk around among us looking as though they are healthy enough. Veterans or civilians, we are sometimes diagnosed as having mild concussions if we know our names, what day it is, and can remember who the current President is. Brain injury is only beginning to be properly diagnosed and treated effectively/seriously by the medical community because of returning vets from Iraq and Afghanistan. Beyond medical treatment, many of us become shuffled off to the side, doped up with psych-drugs, and are seen as unresponsive to the social safety-networks that are taken for granted by others. The inability to adapt to life afterwards crushes the spirit and, still proud, we try to manage whatever is left of our lives. Whenever I hear of an athlete or a soldier as having a so-called mild concussion, my ears perk-up. Is there anyway of treating invisible injuries and catching them on time before their lives end; unemployable, isolated, frustrated, or driven to homelessness and suicide? I am a lucky one. I lived through it, and eventually retained some of my lost dignity, but my prayers go to those who are still lost. If anyone reading this know has suffered a brain injury or knows of a family member or friend who has had a life-changing head trauma… have lost contact with them… have watched in frustration as a loved one sinks into alcohol and drug abuse… get empathetic professional help… especially the VA for veterans…. Yes empathy goes much further than sympathy. There is hope.

         I am grateful I to have a sister who searched me out and made contact with me. I will never forget that phone call. Thanks, Joy.

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It is No Big Deal

QUIETLY SITTING

Quietly sitting, body still, speech silent, mind at peace, let thoughts and emotions, and go, without clinging to anything.

            What does this state feel like? Dudjom Rinpoche used to say: Imagine a man who comes home after a long, hard day’s work in the fields, and sinks into his favorite chair in front of a fire. He has been working all day and he knows he has achieved what he wanted to achieve; there is nothing more to worry about, nothing left unaccomplished, and he can let go completely all his cares and concerns, content, simply, to be.

Glimpse After Glimpse

Sogyal Rinpoche

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There is a certain amount of humility in seeing myself as practicing meditation as a mental and physical comfort rather than a religious duty. Spiritual pride and competitiveness come about when I consider myself in terms of dutifully sitting every morning… ringing the bells… lighting incense… reciting prayers. Falling into this state of mind is a distraction from the simple joy of giving my mind and body a well-needed charging of batteries before I start my day and a well-deserved rest after a day of service. Just as some begin their day with a cup of coffee and relax after hard day with a drink, I can do the same in the arms of the Heart of Compassion. It is no big deal.

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