She, He, & The Spider

She and He were gliding down the sidewalk. Ice cream in hand, fresh Texas night air, sending tingles up her neck. So delightful. Summer had always been her favorite season.

He stood tall, and tight. The seriousness of his stance could only be offset by the warmth of his smile. What a smile. He smiled with his eyes; eyes you could get lost in if you were not careful.

Side by side, under the large, stone, awning they wandered, peacefully. The night was perfect. Perfect as every moment. But moments are momentary.

Suddenly the peace was broken. She gasped, and turned around, frowning, as she held out her popsicle stick.

It was as if he were peering right through the melting dessert between them. She wasn't sure if he had seen the spider violating the end of her evening ice cream indulgence.

"It's a spider" she pouted. From the look on his faces she was unclear if he was waiting for her to continue, or just wondering what the problem was. "I might have eaten it" she continued.

"It wouldn't have been your fault" he grinned, but she felt otherwise.

If she had been less aware, off in a day dream, not paying attention, she would have eaten the spider, and it would have been her fault.

She smiled and, gently, shook the spider off to the side of the walkway. Her eyes darted side to side, wildly, searching for the nearest garbage can.

Both smiling, together, they turned back in the direction they had come from.

She never had to touch a door handle or knob while he was around. It was a small gesture that revealed a lot more than the couple would reveal about themselves verbally.

It felt good, sitting in the passenger seat beside him. As the car pointed back in the direction of home, she was grateful. Life is so fleeting, always winding, full of ups and downs, but she felt fortunate.

"What a weekend."

Cat Person

I've heard people say "cats are selfish, lazy, cold, and unloving. Cats are hardly even pets." Occasionally I even get comments like "Cats? Who could possibly love that?" and "What kind of person likes cats."

Dogs are "man's best friend". Dog people are often described as "loyal, loving, fun." Which may be true, but who says cat people can’t be that way too?

Nothing is forever. In the earliest days I can remember, I always wanted a dog. I have had two dogs in my life, and I loved both of them. They were good dogs, and there are days when I feel like I need to rush out and get a dog.

It wouldn’t be fair -getting a dog. We are very busy, always on the move. Dogs take time, we don’t have time right now. Maybe when we retire, then we would have time – but that’s a LONG ways away. No time soon.

I am happy with our cat. Rini is a short, round, grey and tan, ball of fluff. Light green eyes, and a questioning face. She was the runt of the litter, so she is small in stature with delicate legs and paws. (A sharp contrast to her thick trunk.)

Rini has personality to spare.  She doesn’t need me, but she sure loves it when I let her sit in my lap while I am working. Sometimes Rini gets so relaxed that she will drool all over my lap like Cujo.

She is an odd ball… oh, did I mention that Rini doesn’t have a tail? More like a backwards facing, hooked, nub. Now it seems like cats with tails are strange. They don’t even walk the same. Rini walks more like a raccoon than a cat – rolling back and forth, butt leading the wobble.

“Me?” I’m a cat person. . .  I’m loyal, loving, fun, and although I’d rather have a cat living with me, I could play fetch and snuggle a puppy all day.

I’m sure there are some “crazy cat ladies out there” but most of us are great. I don’t mind that my cat doesn’t come to me unless it wants something – most of the time she wants to cuddle.

Other times she cries to go outside, and begs for me to let her do something that I told her she couldn’t do. (Ok, maybe I am a little bit of a crazy cat lady –I do talk to my cat.)

Although she doesn’t understand the words, the tone of my voice is not lost on her. She argues (I rather think of her as arguing than whining, it makes her fussing more amusing to me.)

I don’t need to control Rini, or for her to love me, although she may, I am just happy I get to hang out with her.

I think cat people are confident, independent, and contemplating. They can hold back, or release everything in a ball of fury, but they are loyal friends, with big hearts, and deep emotions.

Not a bad person to have around, if you ask me.

 

 

The Worst Flu Ever, A Fairly Positive Experiance

I am typically a fairly healthy human being. I live on a vegetarian diet, of mostly organic fruits and vegetables. The best part is I rarely get sick, with the exception of cold and flu season.

Once a year, as the temperatures drop and the holidays approach, I always seem to catch something cold or flu like. Still it's not too bad because, although this year was a bit different, in past years I am typically only ill for about 48 hours and then good to go minus a few sniffles.

Here I am, day 3 of the worst flu ever, and as of now feeling fairly good and hoping to head back into the office in the morning. I am a strong advocate of listening to your body, and fortunately for me this year blessed me with a new job that allows me to work from home if needed.

So I was able to work with my laptop bundled up in bed with a pile of tissues and and endless supply of constantly refilling water (thanks to my loving man) while I wimped it out. What a blessing!

Unfortunately many employers do not offer healthy options for sick employees to take it easy and avoid infecting the workforce by working elsewhere. Sometimes this is not possible due to the type of work being preformed.

I love my job. We have a great boss and team AND we also are allowed to use our PTO days as sick days if we do suddenly become ill. There are a lot of jobs today that do not offer PTO to their employees, OR do not allow vacation days to be used as sick days, such was the case at my last job.

Money is tight everywhere, and most of the employees that do not get these benefits are average middle class employees - employees with families to support and bills to pay. For some of these people missing even a day of work could could be the difference between food on the table this week, or getting the power disconnected.

Imagine what having the flu for 3-7 days could do to a family that is barley getting buy. No work - No Pay. No Work - No Food. With these circumstances it should not come as a surprise to you that 60-90% of workers come into work while ill. It is a sad fact.

Counting my blessings, this year I was able to stick out this 3 day beast of a flu in bed, thanks to my new job and understanding boss.

It hit me like a ton of bricks on Monday night at around 9pm, I was on my way home from work and several errands. Out of nowhere I was assaulted by a fever, aches from head to toe, and the worst headache ever.

On Tuesday, I was lost in bed. I slept all day, merciless to the symptoms, I surrendered to my body and let the immune system war take off. Sweet surrender, I realized that the flu "just was" there was nothing I could really do about it but let my body fight and drink lots of water.

Side note, I personally do not believe in taking any medication that masks symptoms created by your body's immune system such as a fever. I remember learning at a very young age that your body creates a fever to kill off bad things like viruses and germs that make you sick.

It has been my experience that every time in the past I have stepped in and interrupted that process, often because I was trying to go to work while sick rather then let my body recover, I stay sick longer. For me, these medications only seem make being sick tolerable, and they never seem to help me to get well.

Wednesday I worked, bundled up with fever in a pile of blankets, body aching head to toe. I must add that my boss offered and assumed that I was taking PTO but I insisted otherwise as my winter holiday vacation starts very soon. I had high hopes that I would return to the office on Thursday morning.

Thursday morning I wake up not felling 100% but still much better than before. "Maybe I will be able to go to work after all" I thought. I got out of bed and picking the empty water cup from my night stand headed towards the kitchen.

I hadn't made it but a few steps outside of my bedroom door when I realized that something was horribly wrong. I was weak, cold, sweaty, nauseous, and if I did not sit down soon I was going to black out. Luckily I threw myself at the sofa just in time.

It was amazing at how quickly things had gone downhill, and gotten a little scarey. In a few seconds it was as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water onto me. I was sweating from head to toe, and every time I stood up the cycle started over again.

Needless to say I had my loving man bring all the things I needed back to the bed for me, including my work laptop, and I got back to work. Honestly, as long as I was not moving around I felt fairly alright.

Right now, Thursday night, I feel fairly alright, and do not seem to have a fever. (I say seem because the thermometer broke.) Other than a stuffy nose, drainage and a small cough, I feel pretty good, and THANK GOODNESS!

This monster flu was a great reminder to me that, in the fast paced world we live in it is important that we take the time to stop, slow down, and listen to what our body is trying to tell us. This year the flu actually demanded I listen to my body.

I feel good right now, and hopefully will be able to head back into the office tomorrow. Either way, you better believe that I will be listening when I wake up in the morning so that I can be sure to hear what my body is telling me.

Listening to My Body

My body is a friend.
It is the place that all the pieces of me reside.
Not me, but a place, a home that I must care for and maintain.
What an amazing gift a human body is.
If I take the time to listen, it speaks to me.
My body doesn't ask for much - just healthy, organic foods, exercise and rest.
It asks for so very little, and in return offers me a place to live a long and comfortable life.
How lovely!

Sometimes the mind and body do not seem to see eye to eye.
Work and worldly issues hinder my ability to hear the body's requests.
What a shame.

The downward spiral, slipping and falling.
Putting off exercise and rest.
"There is too much else to do."
Priorities waiver, but the nagging remains in the back of my head. . .

"Lets go for a run!"
"Stop staying up all night!"
"Really, ANOTHER cup of coffee?!"
"Yoga is good foe body and mind."
"Stop and relax - please?"

Eventually I give in.
Back on the right track, but I can't help but wonder how I got lost in the first place. 

Run Run

Be still my racing heart...
Run...
Run...
The mind cannot stop...
Won't stop,
although I beg it.
Where does this urge come from?
The urge to run?
Move...
Move...
The desire to create...
But what am I building?
Relax?
Relax?
I cannot be still...
Inside momentum is building,
The stillness is maddening.
Rush...
Rush...
Why can I not slow down?
Always in over drive...
The break pads are worn.
Relax....
Relax!
How long will I be able to maintain this pace?
The machine is in need or repair.
What would happen if I were to suddenly stop?
Stop...
Would the wheels fall off?
or would the train keep rolling along?

Local Buddhist Center

Photo by Revolution Photos

For a long time I have been suppressing a longing to seek out other Dharma followers. The reason is hard to explain, but I am sure it is tied to my negative history with organized "Christian" religion. I have never been a fan of being told how to act or think.

Releasing memories, living in the now and forgetting the past. That is what this journey is about. What am I really afraid of? I know I am serious about this journey. Right?

Do I think I am going to be sucked into a deep dark cult? No - not really. I honestly do not believe that sort of thing happens to strong minded people. I know that I can walk out if I find anything that is intolerable.

Is it a fear of being judged? I do not typically think of myself as the type of person who worries over what others think of me, but this question keeps arising.

Perhaps I am afraid that I will like what the experience, or maybe I will find displeasure within the Zendo. What if... what if.... all the "what ifs" are irrelevant. 

Here I stand, one foot inside and the other dragging behind, ready to run. "What are you running from?" I ask myself, but there is no answer.

In this moment I am undecided, and tomorrow is not to be worried over. So, tomorrow the question will be, which path will I take? 

Failure

I failed miserably today.

Got wrapped up in worries over how to fix a problem that was out of my hands.

Today I lost my cool. Became overwhelmed and frustrated.

Setbacks. Anxious over silly worldly matters. Desire for a solution that eluded me.

Lost. How do I stay in this moment, and hold a job in the world?

Is it really possible to live today with no concern over tomorrow? Is it possible that I could do such a thing?

Flawed.  I am deeply flawed, worrying. . . Lost.

Material items, worldly joys, and sorrows are all illusions. Why cling to them?

I know this only causes pain. Why can't I just let it all go?

It is all temporary. Why grasp it?

Logic is here now, but where was it earlier?

I failed today, but maybe realizing that I failed is actually a small victory. 

The Who and Now

I have been attempting to focus my mind in this present moment. 

 

Photo by David Rivera

On occasion I manage to hone in on this experience, where I have no past and no worries over the future.  These moments are so precious, but each time I realize that I have attained this state it instantly vanishes. 

I am unable to contain the minor frustration as this goal floats just outside my grasp. Each time I reach for it, grasp at it, desire it, it vanishes. What is "it"?

I am nobody, and that is when I am the happiest. 

We all want to be somebody - proud of where we came from, and the events that have shaped us into who we have become.

Everyone has a story, heritage to be proud of, and battles won. Identities we cling to.

We are all so desperate to hold onto these objects that we identify with. They make us who we are, but these moments are gone. Irrelevant.  Delusions.  Dreams. 

We cannot touch these past encounters. What benefit does recalling them actually serve? 

Sometimes I feel as if people who wake up from head injuries with no recollection of who they were previously are truly blessed.  

Such a huge task lies in front of me. Not only must I forget my past, but I also need to disregard the moments that might occur in my future. 

What is this? Is it the notion of "no self" or is it "living in the present"? Maybe these two things are actually one. 

Enlightenment is one thing, built of many things that actually have no separation.

Indescribable - words never do justice to the things I see and feel. Language has so many limitations. 

Words are tools, not toys,  but so often we use them carelessly. 

I talk too much. Words are nothing. A human invention. They can be addictive, and I am hooked. 

Sometimes it feels as if I am a lost cause, only realizing that my words lack value in reflection.   

Progress is the realization of a problem where once no knowledge was present. There was a time when I did not grasp my senselessness. Pride and ego often blind us to our imperfections. 

Gradually things are getting better, but perfection still seems so far away. What knots must I unravel to alleviate this affliction? What is the root cause?

More reflection is needed.

Anatta - The River

Anatta - refers to the notion of "not-self" or the illusion of "self" sometimes refereed to as ego. 


I am a river, not the person I was yesterday. Always changing. The water is different, quickly flowing downstream. Strong currents moving pebbles and debris downstream as well. The banks of me are changing, though at a slower pace. There is not one part of me that is fixed. Even the large rock and boulders, that the rest is stacked upon, will weather down and one day drift away.

Nothing within is fixed, so there cannot be a "me" or "I".




Photo By David Rivera - Revolution Photos TX

Fragile

It hardly seemed real. Seeing the full name of someone who had once been very close to me displayed next to the word obituary on the computer screen. Certainly I must be confused.

It's common for people to see faces in inanimate objects where none actually exists. We are automatically programmed to seek out familiarities in situations that or foreign to us. Surely, I must be mistaken.

Thinking back. Did I ever really hear that middle name? The age? It could be a coincidence. Jumping to conclusions. My mind playing tricks on me.

Fingers, frantically strumming, desperately seeking to disprove answers that my hart already had. In dental, trying to lift the rock that had become lodged, heavy in my stomach.

Why? There it was. The confirmation on my screen. Undeniable proof of the horrid injustice.

He was not even thirty years old, and always a wonderful, caring person. A bright light in the world. Why?

Such things hardly seem fair, but then again they aren't. This world is not a fair place, and life is fragile. Death lurks around every corner as we often take this life for granted.

I don't want to look at this truth in front of me, but it is almost impossible to look away. This is real, and pretending otherwise is not helpful.

I still remember the day, the beginning of the end was it 6. . . 7 years ago? A scary situation, though at the time nobody had yet realize the chain of events that had suddenly been put into motion. 

Thanksgiving day at my grandparents house. My phone rings. I cannot recall the conversation, but I remember being called to the hospital.

There had been a car accident. Someone had speed carelessly through a red light. The domino effect, that would take a while to be come apparent. 

Sitting in the ER waiting room. I still remember his calm and cool posture. Slouched back in the plastic waiting room seat, green Converse shoe popping out of the white and blue hospital gown over a crossed knee.  "Look, I got blood on my favorite shoes!" He said it with a huge smile. 

He always had a way of lighting the mood with his infectious smile.  Why should this moment be any different. 

Months down the road, I remember him describing strange events where he would loose time. These instances would often occur during his morning showers. He would "wake up" or "snap out of it" and the water in the shower would have run cold. 

We decided these must have been big gaps, since our thirty gallon water heater was sufficient for a fairly long shower.

Seizures. Eventually these events were named. The accident had caused much more damage than was originally discovered. Lasting damage, permanent, and eventually the end.

Last one to know, the news now over a year old, but still a shock to me. Processing the information and letting it sink in.

This bright light, prematurely extinguished. Drawing the lesson that life is fragile. Further proof that we can never guarantee tomorrow. A valuable lesson, from an unfortunate tragedy.