I spoke from the USA to a woman in Scotland Monday and felt my world leap ahead a full millennium as I “saw” her on my computer screen at the same time I spoke to her. I had never experienced this before. Never knew society had such technology.
I hate to admit this, but I become afraid when I get into harm’s way. I try to avoid it. Try to go with the flow. But when harm settles in my general area, I become as timid as a rabbit jumping back in a hole after seeing his own shadow.
“Chef J” had no idea what she was getting herself into when she surfed the computer early Saturday morning. But, by the end of the day, she found more than a dozen people who were “just like her,” struggling to make sense of a world that seems cold to the sensitivity of others.
Running water. Somebody designed a way to allow it to flow from a water way directly into our houses. And not just to one spot in my Conshohocken, PA, home, but at least four: the kitchen, two bathrooms and a spigot for hosing plants outdoors.
Heaven on Earth. What a beautiful idea.
Why must one wait for death to enjoy this state of eternity? Why not enter while one is still alive?
Went “international” yesterday. Had breakfast near my home in Conshohocken and greeted 11 people from five countries as I “table-hopped” brandishing my All-American smile, learning you don’t have to travel the world to find your Self. The world can find you right where you live. If you open your heart.
I talk too much.
Didn’t always. I was one of those “quiet” ones when I was young. Seen, and not heard. I believed that “empty barrels made the most noise,” as the nuns taught us in grade school.
“He’s a real banana head,” the doctor who delivered you pronounced right after your birth. You looked more like a “prune” with all those wrinkles, kinda like an aging Dwight Eisenhower or a Winston Churchill, but with a lot more wrinkles.
Kneeling on my knees, I hold the bowl out with one hand, while placing the other hand on the wooden floor, crawling from one side of the chair to another.
My shoulders have grown enormously since this afternoon. I feel they’re “indestructible.” That I have durable lightweight plastic pads all around the neck, the collarbone and the head, as well as my upper chest and back. Energy of some sorts is protecting me from all harm to those areas. And it may be rubbing off on what they call the “Chakras‘ to my heart and higher parts.
Buddha came in the shape of a dark-haired, dark-skinned attractive yoga-practicing woman, smiling upon me in a dream.
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Calling a kid names could cause a lasting scar one may have to deal with later in life. It’s either that, or you learn to “toughen up“ as I did, and let the wise-cracks, the slurs, the hate-filled and ignorant remarks simply glide over you.
You had to be a little tough to grow up in Brewerytown, the neighborhood of Philadelphia I called home for the first part of my life. You also needed to be open to other ways of life, different religions, and those of another race.
What was it like to be a pre-teen, meeting a person who’d, maybe one day, be the Love of your Life? And what did you do when someone turned down the lights in the cellar party . . . and you were alone . . . finally. Your hands touched, and your eyes melted while looking at the other’s face, their smile, their warm and inviting eyes.
* * * * * * * * *
“Letting go” is a process I thought I had completely bought into when I “gave up” trying to control things and had surgery done on my eye.
How can I deal with PTSD and prevent “squandering away” my life?
The first Buddha emerged in my dream as a muscular military-type, with short-cropped hair and engaging smile. Asian? No, Hispanic, but with a possible trace of someone from an exotic Asian island.
Some of my favorite “idols” appeared at the Omega Institute, upstate New York, (USA) while on a meditation retreat for veterans with PTSD in October 2009.
“Enlightened” is the only way I can describe how I felt after sharing thoughts with my new friend, JhanaJian, who shook my reality with something I was not ready to hear. I had viewed this person one way and was forced to alter that viewpoint as truth hit me right in the eye.
Who will be my teacher?
Where can I find that person who can show me where to walk on this new path I’ve chosen?
Flowers brighten up any room, and the right vase can add an extra touch, particularly, when the arranger puts a lot of Love into the mix.
There ain’t nothing humbling in what I adopted in trying to “get ahead” in my life . . . I can do anything I set my mind to had become my motto — it’s the type of superior attitude that we all admire, don’t we? Those who can’t adapt to this way of thinking ought to simply get out of the way. Look out world, here I come!
The Buddha appeared in a dream. He took on the forms of a soldier, a counselor and then a computer printer. How could such an entity take shape in such different apparitions?
It all started as I entered a building. President Barack Obama’s picture beamed on a wall as I walked through a large room, cordoned off by dozens of partitions, creating offices upon offices of civil servants working for me and thousands of other veterans from the United States.
I don’t mind letting my feelings show in public. Especially here, in the “Dreamcatcher” building on Route 73, some 20 miles outside Philadelphia. It’s dark in this room. Hell, I have my eyes closed, and no one can actually see me. Let it flow, I tell myself. Let this expression of purifying Love wash over my cheeks, my beard, my chin.
No, not the Paradise mentioned in our religious books about an Adam and Eve in a Garden of Eden. My Paradise was within, existing immediately before I had eaten from the fruit of the Knowledge Tree, the source of later intelligence, the later development of the mind and its control of my life.
While explaining his enlightening story to students, Tshering noted that a vicious attack ended, as the monster known as Angulimala fell to the ground and the Buddha consoled him offering loving kindness and compassion. This experience completely transformed this lowly criminal. He asked to be ordained a monk, and he went on to practice meditation and self-purification while living in a Sangha community.
I’ve developed a fear of changes I’ve been forced to make and have a concern with the almost constant pain in the bad eye. It’s a low threshold of irritation, but a pain, nevertheless, that is taking more of a toll on me. Like headaches. Nothing acute, but a numbing sensation that increases as my blood pressure rises, or as my heartbeat increases, creating a throbbing pain.
Not once did I have to step on the brake. And I left my house shortly before 9 am — the tail end of rush-hour traffic — to get to a 10 o’clock appointment.
Sometimes, you just gotta learn the hard way. Take Blogging for example.
Miriam,
We have to stop meeting like this. People at IKEA here in Conshohocken may get the wrong idea. They think we come for the 99-cent breakfast special, with all the coffee you can drink for free if you’re here by 10 am.
The “buckle” holding the retina in place on my left eye the past 30 days looks “excellent,” Dr. Ali Zaidi announced Wednesday. What’s more important, my vision has improved, and there’s hope for more improvement before I’m to get a new corrective lens prescription, following a detached retina operation Jan. 22, 2010.
A day-long Retreat at a Buddhist Center in Philadelphia has taken its toll on me. And I mean that in the best of ways!
Oh no! I forgot my ID. Second day in a row I pulled such a stupid stunt. And here I am, braving the snow and cold to drive from Conshohocken, PA, to the Veterans Administration building in Philadelphia.
The “Thirty-Seven Bodhisattva Practices” text was “prepared and distributed” at the request of “His Eminence Garchen Rinpoche” after one of his “disciples” provided me with the small 2-by 4-1/2-inch booklet containing two or three “Practices“ per page. The booklet said its distribution was for “the benefit of all sentient beings.”
Continue readingThe rooster crows outside my kitchen door. Not once, but several times. Wait a minute! It’s 7:30 in the morning. He’s supposed to be up the hill in the shed converted into a chicken coop. What happened?
You forgot to lock the trap door, Michael J. Forgot to close it. Or simply forgot to round-up the four feathered critters and herd them into their warm wooden environment. That could mean they spent the night outdoors.
I hope to start to tutor Natalka about the English language. And, at the same time, learn more of life than I ever could from any book.
Natalka needs to improve her language skills as a teacher of 2 and 3-year-olds at a pre-school outside Conshohocken, PA, here in the USA. She came from the “Old World,” the one behind the notorious “Iron Curtain.” And while she obtained a master’s degree in Chemistry while in Ukraine, her school “directors” want her to speak and write our language more fluently.
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In order to clear away the suffering of limitless beings, through the wisdom realizing the purity of the three spheres, to dedicate the virtue attained by making such effort for enlightenment is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
36
In brief, whatever conduct one engages in, one should ask, “What is the state of my mind?” Accomplishing others’ purpose through constantly maintaining mindfulness and awareness is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
I’ve been trying to think of a name to describe myself along this new path I walk — often stumbling — but getting back up like that old Fred Astaire song which says to “pick yourself up, dust yourself off, start all over again . . .“ I figure everybody should have a response when asked what religion they follow, rather than fumbling for an answer.
35
When disturbing emotions are habituated, it is difficult to overcome them with antidotes. By arming oneself with the antidotal weapon of mindfulness, to destroy disturbing emotions such as desire the moment they first arise is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
34
Because harsh words disturb others’ minds and cause the Bodhisattva’s conduct to deteriorate, abandoning harsh speech which is unpleasant to others is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
How many car “beeps‘ does it take to warn someone of possible danger?
I slept in today. It was the third day in a row that my son was off school because of the great snowstorm of the Winter of 2010. How many of us can recall a time in our lives that school closed for three straight days due to snow?
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Because the influence of gain and respect causes quarreling and the decline of the activities of listening, pondering and meditation, to abandon attachment to the households of friends, relations and benefactors is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Removing snow was always a small challenge. But I prided myself on getting out of the house quickly and providing a safe route for pedestrians and our family cats and different dogs over the years to scamper in the rather expansive upper yard.
Nick has completed a fourth of the shoveling that remained to be done by the time I go back outdoors. I’m refreshed following the digging out from our snowed-in house here on the u of the USA Wednesday. I now can walk the full length of the brick path.
Just have to step onto 24-inch snow drifts another 20 to 25 feet to get to the door of the chicken coop and clear away the ground where the door will swing open. Don’t want to spill any of this chicken food I prepared inside our home. Afraid if I put it down, I’ll knock it over by stepping on it or swinging the door into it.
Slowly, I “brush” aside the snow, remove the long metal part bracing the door, then unlatch it. I see very little because of the darkness inside. It’s after 6 p.m. now. We started shoveling when it was still light out but lost the light as the minutes dropped off with each shovelful of snow.
Snow was so heavy in some places, that one of “durable” plastic shovels broke right off the handle. Will use the plastic as a heavy-duty dustpan come the next several seasons. I’ll use the wooden handle as a stake.
I walk inside the shed we converted into a chicken coop. All four of the fowl huddle together on a four-foot-high cage below the electric heater. I barely make out the rooster before hearing some clucking.
My Son Will Soon Complete the Snow Removal
I can feed them and not worry about digging the rest of the pathway, I begin to think. Nick will complete the rest of the task. And, I have enough confidence in him, that I know he’ll do a good job, and not cut corners.
After finishing feeding the birds and the “Cwazy Rabbit,” Nick and I look over our handy work, the snow removal. The falling snow has covered much of what we had just exposed. An hour or two later, we’ll look out the dining room window and see two more inches have fallen, covering the pathway we just dug.
Stuck inside the house while Winter howls outside, we watched two movies together. Looked at pictures taken of Nick when he played in the worst snow storm of the century, the “Winter of ’96,” (that was the ‘Twentieth Century,’ remember 1996?) and I can’t help but feel grateful that it has taken an act of Mother Nature to bring my son and I so closer together. As family. As friends. As loved ones.
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If influenced by disturbing emotions, one points out another’s Bodhisattva’s faults, oneself is diminished. Therefore, not speaking about the faults of those who have entered the Great Vehicle is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
31
If, having merely the appearance of a practitioner, one does not investigate one’s own mistakes, it is possible to act contrary to the Dharma. Therefore, constantly examining one’s own errors and abandoning them is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
My head slowly rises, as my breathing gets deeper and deeper, and meditation washes over me like the caress from a gentle, loving caregiver. Can’t focus on the movement. Don’t want to detract from this feeling of bliss where there’s no concerns, no worries, no thoughts.
Nothing. Bad or Good.
I am reaching that “Void” where there are no attachments, no desires, no repulsions. Yet the head continues to move. Upward. Into a more relaxed position. One in which I can eventually offer my full face to the “One” I feel above me. “My Beloved” is what the Sufi would call this apparition. Perhaps, “Spirit‘ is the word a mystical Christian might use to describe the state I have navigated my Self into.
I receive a kiss. It’s bestowed on me with all the Love our small world and tiny universe can contain. Now, I feel totally sated with the comfort and assurance that this Love will always be there. I let my head gently touch and rest against the wall behind me, where my back is propped up while sitting in a half lotus position on the floor.
I’m at the Resiliency Center: A Healing Arts Collaborative in Ambler, PA. Some 10 other meditators are “voiding” themselves of unnecessary thoughts, presumably with eyes gently closed and hearts fully open.
“You Are Perfect, Just the Way You Are!”
One, whose name I have not gotten permission to use, is also moved by this meditation experience. She tells the group how she would approach her children, a young girl and boy, and assure them every night that they were “special.” She gestured with her hands as if cupping the chin and face of the child and said to each: “you are perfect just the way you are.” She then kissed each youngster.
Five years ago, when the marriage in the family home had begun to end between husband and wife, she shared this other part of the story. She said she followed her daily routine, going to her children to say goodnight.
She went to the top bunk where her son was resting. But before she could comfort him, the little boy named Joseph put his hands on his mother’s chin and cheeks and had said to mom “you are perfect just the way you are.” And kissed her. Just the way you would expect a 6-year-old to kiss.
I did not realize it until later, that the Love that had visited me while meditating, may have touched that woman the same way, re-awakening inside both of us — perhaps all of us — a better understanding of what true Love is all about. It’s totally unconditional. And, if we’re lucky, maybe even a little karmic.
A vehicle knocked a utility pole to the ground Tuesday morning, causing an accident that pulled down “live wires” and tied up the north side of Conshohocken, PA, the entire day.
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If one lacks wisdom, it is impossible to atttain enlightenment through the other five perfections. Thus, cultivating skillful means that do not discriminate among the three spheres is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
29
Having understood that disturbing emotions are destroyed by insight possessed with tranquil abiding, to cultivate meditative concentration which perfectly transcends the four formless absorptions is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Who is writing to me? The Name or Tag of “Us.mc572” just doesn’t cut it. Please let me know who you really are. I’ve seen you at my site for weeks, maybe even months. You visit almost every day but have not left a “comment“ or any message to indicate what your interest might be. I have tried, but have been unable to reach you, to determine if you’re a friend or a foe.
28
Even hearers and solitary realizers, who accomplish only their own welfare, strive as if putting out a fire on their heads. Seeing this, taking up diligent effort — the source of good qualities — for the sake of all beings is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
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To Bodhisattvas who desire the pleasures of virtue, all those who do harm are like a precious treasure. Therefore, cultivating patience devoid of hostility is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
26
If, lacking ethical conduct, one fails to achieve one’s own purpose, the wish to accomplish others’ purpose is laughable. Therefore, guarding ethics devoid of aspirations for worldly existence is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
The 11-year-old boy misses the shot on the basketball court, and the coach takes him out of the game, benching him in full view of family and friends who came to watch the group of youngsters play Thursday.
I’m hooked on steroids. And no matter what I do, my doctor won’t let me get off of them.
25
It is necessary to give away even one’s body while aspiring to enlightenment, what need is there to mention external objects? Therefore, practicing generosity without hope of reciprocation or positive karmic results is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
24
Diverse sufferings are like the death of a child in a dream. By apprehending illusory appearances as real, one becomes weary. Therefore, when encountering disagreeable circumstances, viewing them as illusory is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
I gotta stop pestering all these Indian women I meet.
I find myself wondering if they are, indeed, from India. And determining that, I try to think of some way to ask about their religion. Without seeming to pry.
A dozen eggs lay in a circle as if some god “racked” them like billiard balls and left them in the hay for us to find the day before Groundhog’s Day.
23
When encountering pleasing sense objects, though they appear beautiful like a rainbow in summertime, not to regard them as real and to abandon clinging attachments if the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
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Nick got the job.
He’ll be working as a busboy at Houlihan’s Restaurant at the Plymouth Meeting Mall outside our hometown, Conshohocken, PA, here in the USA.
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Appearances are one’s own mind. From the beginning, mind’s nature is free from the extremes of elaboration. Knowing this, not to engage the mind in subject-object duality is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
In all good consciousness, can a student of Buddhism serve on a jury trial?
Can one sit in judgment of another, deciding the fate of a person charged with a crime?
21
Indulging sense pleasures is like drinking salt water — however much one indulges, thirst and craving only increase. Immediately after abandoning whatever things give rise to clinging and attachment is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Just a little. A small section at the top of my eye. Through the peripheral vision of my left eye.
20
If outer foes are destroyed while not subduing the enemy of one’s own hatred, enemies will only increase. Therefore, subduing one’s own mind with the army of love and compassion is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Where are those spectacles? I carried them with me for nearly two weeks. Kept them in my jacket pocket, the right pocket all this time. Now that I need them, they’re gone.
19
Though one may be famous and revered by many people or gain wealth like that of Vaishravana, having realized that worldly fortune is without essences, to be unconceitedly is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.  Continue reading
No one’s ever called me “baby-killer.”
I never was “spit on” upon returning home to the United States following a year at war in Vietnam.
And, while friends and co-workers I met through the years may have thought it, none have said to my face they believed I was one of those “Crazed Vietnam Veterans.”
18
Though one may have an impoverished life, always be disparaged by others, afflicted by dangerous illness and evil spirits, to be without discouragement and to take upon oneself all the misdeeds and suffering of beings is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Patty DeMarco made me cry. He called me names and wouldn’t stop as I tried to walk away, with him following me on the North Philadelphia street we lived. On and on he went, badmouthing me, until he saw my brother, who helped me into his little red wagon, and pulled it home, me sobbing all the while behind. I was four years old.
17
Even if, influenced by pride, an equal or inferior person treats one with contempt, respectfully placing that person like a guru at the crown of one’s head is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Why am I sharing this reflection now? I saw two sparrows fly away from the undercarriage of my car the other day. I parked in a lot in a nearby store, made purchases, and was returning when I got to within feet of my car, and noticed the birds.
Two Bengal Tigers charged me and knocked me to the macadam street, as I placed my arms over my head to prevent lethal contact with my throat and face. I twisted into a fetal position, waiting for the first blow to strike, knowing this could be my end at the “hands” of two large cats I could never have imagined seeing on the streets of Conshohocken, PA in the good old USA.
To become as “Common” as an Ordinary Sparrow, does not sound like much of an aspiration.
There’s nothing quite as common as a cracker, one of those Saltines, that is . . .
Three animal totems appeared to me in the past few days, and I am putting the world on notice, that I plan to pay attention to what messages might be coming my way.
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Even if for whom one has cared as lovingly as one’s own child regards one as an enemy, to cherish that person as dearly as a mother does an ailing child is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
15
Even if, in the midst of a public gathering, someone exposes faults and speaks ill of one, humbly paying homage to and perceiving that person as a spiritual friend, is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
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Here’s a series of traits from something called the Enneagram. You can search through in attempts to find what type of personality fits you. I found some interesting things about myself. And hope to bring them up at a meeting of HSPs (Highly Sensitive Persons), one of whom suggested the sites to me.
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Even if someone broadcasts throughout the billion worlds all sorts of offensive remarks about one, speaking in turn of that person’s qualities with a loving mind is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
13
Even if others try to cut off one’s head when one is utterly blameless, taking upon oneself all their negative deeds by the power of compassion is the Bodhisattvas’ practice.
Contoveros 