another city suffers

Another city suffers. This time it is Boston, where two explosions ripped through the finish line of the Boston Marathon. Immediately the news began to pour out, the images of the chaos, the wounded, intermingled with the responses from twitter, from FB, email. Through the wonder of the internet, we can all be near real time victims as well.

Always, after these events, there are the same questions. What kind of world do we live in? How can people do this to each other?

I don't have an answer, or not much of one. I do know that while we focus on the perpetrators, we somehow miss the hundreds of people who ran into danger to help out where they could. We live in that kind of world, too. It's not just a world of sad damaged angry people who blow things up. It's also the world of people who risk their own safety for strangers. It's the world of people who ask only how they can help.

I wish that we could convince the angry people, the fearful people, to set aside their anger, and let go their fear. I wish we could find a way to include everyone, and make everyone heard, so no one would need to blow something up to be somebody.

Maybe someday, we will get there.

whittling a new me

It occurred to me this week that I have spent the last 5 years whittling a newer me. I've been on a journey, without really knowing it. I've been taking classes, losing weight, exercising, eating healthy, meditating, trying new ways of relating to the people in my life. I thought these were separate things, each taken up independently.

Now I see that this was all one thing -- not a mid-life crisis, but more of a 2nd wind, or maybe a 2nd act. I wanted to be more whole, more healthy mentally, physically, spiritually, for the 2nd half of my life. I wanted to put what I've learned into practice.

I was sitting in meditation class this week, when I had an "aha" moment. With perfect clarity, my inner voice informed me that "this shit works". Not just the meditation, but all of it. It WORKS. What I've been doing has transformed me, my life. I don't know how it works. I don't care how it works. I don't care why it works. It just does. 

I wish my inner voice was a little more refined. Maybe a little more elevated. But I can't argue when it speaks the truth. "THIS SHIT WORKS"

you never completely know

It's never too late to learn something about yourself. My most recent realization is that I have a huge blind spot where illness is concerned. My 87 year old mother in law had the flu. I adore her, but I never thought of going to help her out while she was sick.  Only after a disturbed night of sleep, where apparently my much kinder subconscious was trying to get through to me, did it belatedly occur to me that maybe I should have gone over and made sure she was okay, or brought her some soup or something.

By and large, I think of myself as a kind person, an empathic person. I care deeply for the people in my world. But, if they are ill, I want them to just "walk it off". I do not want to bring water, soup, aspirin. I do not want to stroke foreheads, hold hands, sing a sweet round of "soft kitty". I want to RUN AWAY and come back when they are better.

It's not self-preservation, It's not some instinct to avoid the sick so I don't catch something. I am no better at treating myself. I do not want anyone to help me when I am ill, I don't even want anyone around me, and I rarely want to help myself. I don't want to take pills, rest, wait for things to heal, or in any way acknowledge that I am not FINE. JUST FINE.

It is a knee jerk reaction, outside of the realm of thought. Now that I am aware of it, I can work on it. I can figure out why it frightens me so much that I shut down.

Reflections on a New Year

The first day of 2013. Normally a day that would have me thinking over the past year, mulling resolutions, planning for the coming year. Except, for whatever reason, that's just not what's happening. I just don't seem inclined to review the past. I had a good year, mostly, and even the bad spots were necessary. Planning for a whole year seems like too large a task, and too pointless. The year will unfold. We'll see what happens, as it happens. I am trying to shrink my planning down, to look at this week, and maybe next. With luck, some day I will be able to look ahead only a day at a time.

My resolutions, are the same as they are every year now. To be better. I will be more patient than last year. I will be kinder than last year. I will give more. I will complain less. I will make more time for the people in my life. I will be fitter. I will be more financially responsible. I will meditate more. I will try to grow in my practice.

And I will be kinder to myself when I fail, or backslide, or miss the mark.

afraid of fear?

I wonder if its possible to be afraid of fear? I have always thought I wasn't afraid of much. Lately, though, it has occurred to me that I do a lot of things to avoid fear. It occurs to me that my love of planning is just a mask for fear of  the uncontrolled. My nice stable job -- much less scary than going out on my own as a consultant. Even my lists are at heart a fear of being imperfect.

In meditating of late, I have seen thoughts arise over and over again. Worries about my child, worries about finances, worries about the future. I watch the thoughts bubble up and watch the bubbles pop.. Worry is all fear, wearing one mask or another. And it occurred to me this morning that this kind of fear, well it's just a thought. It isn't any bigger than a thought that my nose itches, or that I need to take out the trash. It isn't something that requires a response or an action. For whatever reason, this was incredibly freeing, and relaxing.

how did I get here?

This week marks my one year anniversary as a Buddhist. I was recently asked what made me become a Buddhist. The question got me thinking -- how did I get here?

I think it goes back a bit. Around five or six years ago, I was a bit of a mess. I was stressed out, amd short tempered. I was gaining weight. My cholesterol was high. My blood pressure was going up. I had headaches all the time. I clearly needed a change.

So I went back to school. I felt energized and my world seemed to expand. I was meeting new people, and seeing a lot of divergent viewpoints on practically everything. As I learned, I found myself opening up to new ideas. And I was forced to take a hard look at myself. I felt a renewed sense of self, but with a strong desire to be a better person. I started a mindfulness practice. I wanted to be more aware and not sleep walk through my life. I made some small steps, and felt improvement. I also felt I wasn't as far as I wanted to go.

I had friends who meditated, and it seemed to work for them. And I had friends who were Buddhist and that seemed to work too. So I began reading about Buddhism, and trying to meditate. It didn't seem to work well for me. I was frustrated. At that time, I saw an ad for a research study. It coupled meditation instruction with psilocybin. I contacted the research folks the same day. I hoped it would lead to a habit of meditation, or show me what I was doing wrong. And I had always, always been intrigued by hallucinogenics, but had been too afraid to try them on my own. I figured it was a huge opportunity.

It was that, and more. The meditation turned out to be easier than I had thought, and being required to do it daily turned it into a habit. The one on one sessions with the meditation guide turned out to be therapeutic for me. It was a mixture of talk therapy, a discussion of beliefs, and instruction. And the psilocybin was life-altering. It seems stupid that two 8 hour sessions could change my life, but I can only say that it really and truly did. I am still me, but I am MORE me than I ever thought possible. I can't put it into words. I can only say that I have more joy, more compassion, more life than I ever thought possible.

When the study was over, I continued my meditation. I added readings from Buddhist thought. I discovered that everything I read, and heard, was familiar -- like it was all things I already knew. And I also had come to a point where I felt quite strongly that I couldn't get any farther on my path alone. I would need something outside myself. A friend and I started going to the Shambhala Buddhist center in town. I took my refuge vow, formally  committing to Buddhism.

I have not once regretted my decision.

letting go

I know my son's life is his own. I know he has to make his own mistakes, and learn his own lessons. But it is painful to watch. And it is agonizing to be useless. In some ways, I long for the days when I could pick him up when he falls, brush of his knee, kiss his bruise, and make everything okay. At least I felt like I could help back then. Now, I can't do a damned thing. Even if he wanted my advice, or my help -- which he most emphatically does not. 

It's his life. These are his lessons. He can't learn from my experience. I can sit back and be here. I can love him and let him know it. I guess that's enough.

empty nest

Thursday, we dropped our son off at Temple University, for his freshman year of college. It might have been the shortest drop off in history. Prior to going, our son made it clear that he didn't want us hanging around his dorm room, or taking him out once we arrived. At this point in his life, we are a major embarassment to him, despite being perfectly nice people (take my word for it). I really struggled with this, but in the end decided that if that's what it took to make him comfortable in his new digs, so be it.

We arrived on campus a couple of minutes early. Our son actually knew where his dorm was and how to get there. We pulled up to the 15 minute unloading zone, unloaded the car, and I went to park in the visitors lot. I got back to our spot on the curb, made chit chat with other parents for a few minutes. We noted that the freshman girls had all packed enough for 3 dorm rooms, and the boys had packed very little. The woman next to us was dropping her 5th child off, and said it was a universal truth. Boys just don't pack much. Our son had checked in, gotten a cart and ambled down the sidewalk with it by that time. We loaded everything into one bin (with room left over) and made our way up to the 2nd floor. We found his room, took everything out of the bin, hugged goodbye and took the bin back downstairs. We annoyed the boy by waiting until he turned in the bin and got his ID card back before departing. Another hug for each of us and we took off for home. Total time on campus was roughly 20 minutes.

I haven't heard from him since. I know, it's only been 3 days and change, but I was still surprised. No panicked calls about stuff forgotten. No emails or texts. I guess he can manage okay.

As for us empty nesters, we went out for a nice lunch, played a couple of hours of pinball. We've eaten on our own schedule. I have revelled in stupid small things, like being able to walk down the hall to the bathroom in my underwear. I bought groceries and didn't have a separate list of stuff for the boy. I don't have a ton of laundry to do. We had actual leftovers from dinner last night. I can go out on a weeknight and not feel guilty for leaving the kid to forage for himself. I did not get woken up by the sound of size 12 sneakers in the rooms above ours.

And yet. There is a sadness too. I feel like there is something important that is missing. I feel an absence. I think about the kid multiple times a day, and wonder if he is okay. Is he eating? sleeping? has he made some friends? I have checked his dining hall account to make sure he has gotten a few meals. And his paypal account to see if he is running through his cash. I am like a virtual stalker, seeking clues to a life I am now not involved with in any major way.  I hope this is a phase, and I will learn to let it go.

the pain of others

I am dealing with a hard truth these days. Sometimes, the pain of others is harder to bear than your own. When you love someone and you see them suffer, it hurts you. And you are helpless. When you yourself are hurt, you have the activity of dealing with the pain. You contain it, you manage it, you feel it, you deal with it. When someone else is suffering, you are separate from it. Oh, you offer to help. You experience some pain of your own. But you don't reduce their pain, you don't really experience their pain, and in the end, you can't END their pain. And that is just really really hard.

filthy lucre

I am screwed up about money. It has taken me a while to figure this out. Most of my fears are about money, or the lack of it. The solutions I spin out in my head are almost always about money. Finding more, making more, winning some. I think that it's not important to me -- that family, friends, experiences are more important. And it's true that that is what I value most. But money is what controls my thoughts.

I had a terrible couple of weeks. What happened? Absolutely nothing, except that we had no money on hand. I was healthy. My loved ones were healthy. We had food, a roof over our heads. We laughed, ate, had fun. And I was miserable. Flooded with anxiety and worry about money.

I make decisions based on beliefs about money. I should be able to afford this, because I make a good living. So I buy it, even though really, I absolutely cannot afford it. I should be able to have a nice vacation, because people in my bracket take nice vacations. I earned it. That I really truly can't afford it is immaterial. The calculus in my head is not interested in reality. It is interested in perception. I feel really good about my job, my position. Is it because of status? Nope. It's about income. I could do the exact same job, with the exact same title. If I made half as much, I would feel embarrassed about myself and my job. It's ugly, but I've come to see that is how I truly think.

It's a habit, that way of thinking. It has deep roots going all the way back to my childhood. I see that now. I felt money could solve all problems. Money was freedom. Money was control. It was what everyone wanted. I am not sure someone who has always had enough of it would understand how it could become like a god, but it did.


Now I am trying to break that habit, that thought pattern. I am working on it, struggling with it. Trying to break the hold. Have less. Want less. I need to break the tie in my mind between wealth and worth. I need to stop thinking of financial security as control. It's not. I could be rich as Croesus and just as subject to the whims of fate.

We'll see how I do.

ruminations on 50

50!!!!

It is hard for me to wrap my head around it, but I am now 50. If I am really fortunate, this is the halfway point. If I'm not, then I am on the downward slide. It's okay either way. I am very happy with where I am right this minute. I feel better than I felt at 40. I am thinner, fitter, healthier. I am happier with work, happier with home, happier in general. In the last 10 years I have seen my child go from a difficult 8 to a pretty great 18. I've moved to a city I love. We got a dog, who has been a joy more often than not. We've been to Nova Scotia, Belize, Paris, and Rome. We've hiked in the Smokies and gone tubing down a jungle river. We've spent far more than we earned, and enjoyed all of it. I've met some wonderful people, and made some terrific friends. I've lost some people I loved, and some I didn't. I've had a concussion, had my gall bladder out, gotten bifocals, developed arthritis in my hands. I took psilocybin, learned to meditate, committed to Buddhism. I've almost doubled my income. I've worked too much overtime, too many evenings and weekends. I got better at what I do. I've learned to make some great food, and made some whopping kitchen disasters, too. I listened to great music. I've been through two new cameras and two laptops. I have the same car, with more scratches than before. I went up to a size 14 and down to a size 6, before settling at 8. I still can't carry a tune.

I think I'll like my 50s, but I know I love right now.

shifting sands

I feel like this is a summer of shifting sands. Our son is turning 18 in a couple of weeks. He no longer needs me the way he once did. This is the way it should be, and in many ways I am relieved. I want him to be independent, to stand on his own two feet. But I have a habit, the habit of taking care of him, that will take some time to break. And I have loved the role of mom. I know I will always be his mom, but it won't be on the same footing as before. We are shifting, moving toward becoming two adults in independent orbits. One of my oldest and dearest friends is prepping to move across the country. We have never lived more than 10 minutes from each other in our 30 plus year friendship. We will always be friends. I know this. But it will change, the landscape will shift. My husband and I are approaching our 30th wedding anniversary. We are about to be empty-nesters, a couple again, instead of a family of three. I am excited, but nervous too. I have seen so many couples get to this point and falter. My Buddhist practice is deepening, and that too is a change. I have never had a spiritual dimension in my life. I have been very into self-control, and control in general. I thought that through planning, thinking ahead, handling things, I could control the outcomes of things. I realize now that that is illusion, wrought by fear. What comes next will be whatever it is going to be. I am putting my trust in the path, and that is a huge scary leap for me, but a necessary one. And I am turning 50 in less than a month. I don't fear aging like I did. I am actually enjoying it, mostly. But it is a milestone, and a time of reflection. Not "get a makeover, buy a red convertible" time, but just a middle of the road "hmmmmmm?" sort of reflection. Like I said, it's the summer of shifting sands.

reflections

We went to NYC a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it, loved all the things there are to do and see there. I loved the art and the food. But I felt like I had been at an all you can eat buffet, and felt a little queasy and bloated on a surfeit of experience. It really is an adult disneyland, and it really is too too much. I also didn't really like the "me" that the city brings out. Too many people, focused far too much on themselves, treating each other as if they were invisible. I kept thinking "what an asshole!", "what a jerk", etc. My sense of connection to others seemed to become stretched thin and then it seemed to just break. I was so relieved to get home and find "myself" again. Reflection 1 - maybe it is easier to be compassionate when there is more space I had an interesting conversation with a colleague today. My friend is a devout Christian. He saw a copy of the 10 precepts on my office wall, and asked me about it. I told him I was a Buddhist, and he asked quite a few questions. He wanted to know what was up with the "fat guy", did I worship him? We had a nice conversation, even though neither of us could really accept the other's views. I have never had a more relaxed religious conversation... Reflection 2 - it is much easier to deal with opposing viewpoints when you don't have to be right

stuff

I think I've finally reached a point where I realize I have too much stuff. I was looking at my bookshelves the other day, thinking there are books here that I have not touched in years. Heretical thought, but it actually occurred to me that I don't need to keep them all. Maybe I could pare it down to one bookshelf of books -- books I received as gifts, books that I have a deep connection to. And why do I have over 100 CDs on a shelf? I haven't touched a CD since I got my first iPod, over 3 years ago. I have dishes I don't use, clothes I don't wear, movies I don't watch. Why?

I just don't need all this, and I don't even know how I reached a point that I have all of it. Maybe I have just developed the opposite of hoarding -- the sudden realization that all this stuff has a psychic weight. I'm not ready to strip my life down to some cushions on the floor in an empty room. I'm not going to give away all my possessions and live like a hermit in a cell. I like comfort far too much.

But I can finally look at the things in my house, and just see stuff.

still changing

It's been a few months since I last posted, so I thought I'd do a quick update.

I am still sorting through my psilocybin experiences, finding that I am still unpacking and learning from it.

I have become more serious about my Buddhist path. I am still meditating daily and try to get to the Center once a week for an hourly sitting session. I've added a beautiful candle from my sister in law, a buddha from my son, and other personal items to the altar in my sitting room. this room has now become my meditation/sitting room.

Oddly, I almost never listen to music at work any more. I used to be addicted to it, for lack of a better word. I needed it to function, to get through the day. That's no longer the case. I find I am fine with silence now. If I play music, I enjoy it immensely. I just don't need it.

I am still walking 5 days a week, for 40 minutes or so. It appears to be the only exercise routine I can do with any regularity. I just can't seem to make myself do anything else.

I have kept the weight off. I lost 20 pounds last year, and it's still lost.

My struggle with kindess and gentleness continues. Under great stress, I still get snappish. It lasts for a shorter time, and is less severe, I think. I still get angry, but it seems to dissipate into nothing very very quickly.

I am enjoying life more. I think it's because I spend more time being present and aware. I don't really need to know the reason, though -- it's enough that it is.

kind, helpful, true

It's a brand new year. I am not making resolutions, but I do have some intentions for the year. I intend to do just a bit more than last year. Give a bit more, exercise a bit more, meditate a bit more, be greatful a bit more, love a bit more. And i am going to try to practice "right speech". "Right Speech" is the buddhist principle that one should say only what is kind, helpful and true. It is very difficult for me, but I think worth the effort.

simple things

This weekend has been about spending time with family and friends. We had a dear friend visit from Ohio, and got a chance to catch up a bit. I spent a lovely afternoon talking, eating and drinking with some of my favorite people. I spent a lot of time with my husband and son. It was really wonderful. Sometimes, it's not the big events, it's the simple things that make the biggest difference in your life.

Oh yeah, my son says I'm the best cook ever... because of this:

Chicken Curry

1.5 pounds boneless skinless chicken breasts, cubed
2 large carrots, sliced
1 large sweet onion, sliced vertically in thin slices
a handful of fresh string beans
3 boiled, peeled potatoes
1 cup of steamed cauliflower (optional)
1 tablespoon madras curry powder
2 tblspoons cornstarch
1.5 tablespoons better than bouillon chicken
1.5 cups cold water
1 tablespoon cooking oil


add oil to hot skillet. Add chicken. Cook on high a few minutes until chicken is cooked outside (doesn't need to be cooked all the way through). Put chicken aside. Add onions, carrots, string beans to the skillet. Saute 5-8 minutes, on high heat, stirring frequently.
slice potatoes and add to the pan, Cook another 2-3 minutes. Return chicken to the pan. Add the curry powder. Let cook another minute. Add the bouillon. Stir. Put cornstarch in a bowl, stir in the cold water, dissolving the cornstarch. Add to the pan, bring to a boil. Add the cauliflower if using. Put a cover on the pan, reduce heat to low. Cook 5 minutes stirring occasionally.

Serve with rice.

refuge

On Sunday, I take the refuge vow at the Shambhala Center.

the vow is simple:

I take refuge in the Buddha
I take refuge in the Dharma
I take refuge in the Sangha

What it means is that I commit to the Buddhist path for my lifetime. It's a big thing, but an easy one. I have already made the same commitment to myself, have been living that commitment for a little over a year. This is just a public declaration in front of the community I am joining. It is a little like a catholic confirmation service. There is no priest, but there is an acharya (a teacher). There are specific words said, and specific gestures made.

I was a Buddhist before the ceremony and I will be a Buddhist after.

community of another sort

Last night, I went on my third weekly visit to the Shambhala Meditation Center. On Thursday nights, they have what they call an "open sit". At 7pm, the large meditation room is open to all who want to come meditate. There are cushions set out in rows, and chairs in the back for those who need them. Their are candles, and incense or scented oil. A "moderator" acts as timekeeper. The person sits facing the room, sounds the bell that starts the time period, meditates, and sounds the bell again at the end of the session (about 45 minutes). During meditation the room is silent, except for the occasional cough, or the sound of someone shifting position. It is quiet enough to hear someone's stomach gurgle in the row ahead of you. It is amazingly peaceful and welcoming.

After the open sit, there is an open house. People drink tea, eat snacks that have been prepared, and socialize for 15-20 minutes. If you choose, you can attend a dharma talk after the tea. These talks are on meditation or buddhist dharma. They generally last an hour.

There is no charge for the evening, although donations are accepted. They just leave out a bowl for this.

I have really gotten a lot out of this. There is a difference to meditating in a room with others versus doing it at home. A different energy? I am not sure really. It may just be the length of time you meditate. At home, I generally do 15-20 minutes. This is 45 minutes. That is a long time to sit, at least for a relative beginner.

The dharma talks have been helpful, and enlightening. Not a religion, but a way of dealing with what is. No salvation, no higher power, no faith. I love the pragmatic, the practical approach that this center takes. It is not so much about the theory, the philosophy, as it is about the practice. "This is the way it is, now what do we do about it" I have not heard anything I have opposed, or disagreed with. I find myself nodding in agreement or recognition a lot. I am in the right place for me, I think.

It feels really good.

the journey continues

I have been to Detroit. To Philly. I'm headed to Charlotte in a few weeks. We're into the college trip/college application process in a big way. It's been a lot more entertaining than I thought it would be.

Our first trip was to Wayne State in Detroit. I really was not looking forward to visiting Detroit. It turned out to be a really fun trip. We stayed in a really plush hotel, nicer than our usual by quite a few notches (thanks Hotwire!). We had a view of the waterfront from our bed. Beautiful. We spent a lovely day wandering around the Belle Isle park. They had a stunning conservatory, and no one visits it. The guard at the desk thanked us multiple times for visiting. The sign in sheet showed we were the only ones. On an amazingly beautiful Sunday afternoon. The multiple thank yous would be a trend. Detroit seems to have so few visitors, and so few residents. Everywhere we went people were gracious, polite, and unbelievably grateful we were there. We visited the Detroit Institute of Art and it was much the same. Beautiful museum, very good collection and very few visitors. We went to a restaurant, Kascent... which we visited because a guy on the sidewalk talked us into going inside. We were one of two tables of people in a restaurant meant to hold hundreds. We had fresh corn muffins, straight from the oven. I had Fried chicken. Greens. Mac and cheese. My husband ate an enormous freshly fried catfish sub, and our son had ribs, with all the trimmings. Our bill was $24. Amazing.

The school was much much better than we expected. The campus was nice, the size (20,000 plus students) seemed manageable. It was diverse, and it seemed that everyone mixed easily. Our son felt instantly at home.

The 2nd trip was just me and the boy. We had a great time. We did a day trip to Philly, to tour Temple University. The school had much better facilities and resoures than Wayne State, but seemed a little clique-y. While it was diverse, folks seemed to mix only with folks like themselves. Still, it was a beautiful place and had a lot of things to recommend it. We followed it up with getting lost, getting lunch, getting lost again. Lunch was dim sum, at a highly recommended restaurant. Food was terrific but the experience not so much. None of the staff spoke English, or understood it. Menus in chinese only. We never got drinks because we couldn't get the wait staff to understand what we wanted. We weren't even sure what we ate from the cart, although it was delicious. I'm not sure I would go back, even with the great food. It was so frustrating not being able to communicate.

In a week we go to Charlotte. I am really excited. We are going to visit UNC-Charlotte, but I am thrilled to have an excuse to visit the city. And looking forward to spending some more family time together. I am very aware now, that the family time we have is growing short. Every time we tour a campus, see a dorm room, I get a very concrete reminder that our boy is moving on, and away. Still, I am going to enjoy the time we have. And maybe I'll get BBQ too.