I have been very happy with Hillary Clinton as my Senator. When she originally ran, I preferred her over her opponent, but I wasn't thrilled to vote for her. I didn't know her well, I was as put off by her manner as anyone else. I knew the suspicions about her true motives and her ruthless pursuit of partisan values.
That has changed. She has shown up for the job. Everything I've seen that has been her initiative has been wise public policy, efficiently executed and well communicated. I highly recommend her as a public servant and I think she would probably make an excellent President.
But I don't think we should nominate her.
Why? Because we'd be doing the same thing to the Republicans in this country that they did to us with George W. Bush, i.e, forcing a person we intensely dislike down our throats by virtue of persuasion of a few apathetic "independent" voters who get all of their political education in 30-second TV commercials. We need a President who connects to people on both sides of the aisle. If the Democrats win next November, the Republicans deserve a President who doesn't inspire intense feelings of dislike and disgust.
So, when my turn comes, I am going to cast my vote for someone else because I don't want Republicans in this country to be as alienated from the executive branch as I have been for the last 8 years.
I just hope the person who wins a plurality takes office.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
QotD: Destruction is Necessary
Suzuki Roshi said, Renunciation is not giving up the things of this world, but accepting that they go away. Everything is impermanent; sooner or later everything goes away. Renunciation is a state of nonattachment, acceptance of this going away. Impermanence is, in fact, just another name for perfection. Leaves fall; debris and garbage accumulate; out of the debris come flowers, greenery, things that we think are lovely.
Destruction is necessary. A good forest fire is necessary. The way we interfere with forest fires may not be a good thing. Without destruction, there could be no new life and the wonder of life, the constant change could not be. We must live and die. And this process is perfection itself.
All this change is not, however, what we had in mind. Our drive is not to appreciate the perfection of the universe. Our personal drive is to find a way to endure in our unchanging glory forever....Who hasnt noticed the first gray hair and thought, Uh-oh.
Destruction is necessary. A good forest fire is necessary. The way we interfere with forest fires may not be a good thing. Without destruction, there could be no new life and the wonder of life, the constant change could not be. We must live and die. And this process is perfection itself.
All this change is not, however, what we had in mind. Our drive is not to appreciate the perfection of the universe. Our personal drive is to find a way to endure in our unchanging glory forever....Who hasnt noticed the first gray hair and thought, Uh-oh.
- Charlotte Joko Beck
Sunday, December 23, 2007
QotD: Our Mind Cuts the Universe in Two.
This is a remarkable bit of language here. The next time someone wants me to briefly summarize Buddha's message this is what they are going to get.
I did some editing, you can find the text I worked from here.
A primary cause of suffering is delusion: our inability, because of a subtly willful blindness, to see things the way they truly are. Instead we see things in a distorted way.
The world is in fact a seamless and dynamic unity: a single living organism that is constantly undergoing change. Our minds, however, chop it up into separate, static bits and pieces, which we then try mentally and physically to manipulate.
One of the mind's most dear creations is the idea of the person. Closest to home, it creates a very special person which each one of us calls "I": a separate, enduring ego or self.
At that instant the seamless universe is cut in two.
There is "I" -- and there is all the rest.
That means conflict -- and pain.
"I" cannot control that fathomless vastness against which it is set.
It will try, of course, as a flea might pit itself against an elephant, but it is a vain enterprise.
I did some editing, you can find the text I worked from here.
A primary cause of suffering is delusion: our inability, because of a subtly willful blindness, to see things the way they truly are. Instead we see things in a distorted way.
The world is in fact a seamless and dynamic unity: a single living organism that is constantly undergoing change. Our minds, however, chop it up into separate, static bits and pieces, which we then try mentally and physically to manipulate.
One of the mind's most dear creations is the idea of the person. Closest to home, it creates a very special person which each one of us calls "I": a separate, enduring ego or self.
At that instant the seamless universe is cut in two.
There is "I" -- and there is all the rest.
That means conflict -- and pain.
"I" cannot control that fathomless vastness against which it is set.
It will try, of course, as a flea might pit itself against an elephant, but it is a vain enterprise.
--John Snelling
I got an e-mail from ellem!
e-mail from ellem -
We wish ellem a Merry December's end
We wish ellem a Merry December's end
We wish ellem a Merry December's end
And a lot of new toys
Good tidings to ellem
And everyone he knows
We wish ellem a Merry December's end
And a Happy ellem Year
***
There, now no one will be offended.
My reply -
Why do you prefer December over the other months? I haven't seen you
celebrating the end of any of the months with *lower* numbers! You're
a high numberist, and endist, and a Decemberist of the worst kind.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
QotD: Ego
Ego is like a room of your own, a room with a view with the temperature and the smells and the music that you like. You want it your own way. You'd just like to have a little peace, you'd like to have a little happiness, you know, just gimme a break. But the more you think that way, the more you try to get life to come out so that it will always suit you, the more your fear of other people and what's outside your room grows. Rather than becoming more relaxed, you start pulling down the shades and locking the door. When you do go out, you find the experience more and more unsettling and disagreeable. You become touchier, more fearful, more irritable than ever. The more you try to get it your way, the less you feel at home.
- Pema Chodron
Christmas Party Memo
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: Nov 01, 2007
RE: Christmas Party
I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks! We'll have a small band playing traditional carols...feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00pm. Exchange of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets. This gathering is only for employees! Our CEO will make a special announcement at that time!
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Patty
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: Nov 02, 2007
RE: Holiday Party
In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year. However, from now on we're calling it our "Holiday Party." The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians or those still celebrating Reconciliation Day. There will be no Christmas tree present. No Christmas carols sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment. Happy now?
Happy Holidays to you and your family.
Patty
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: Nov 03, 2007
RE: Holiday Party
Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table... you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only"; you wouldn't be anonymous anymore. How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody….. Forget about the gifts exchange, no gifts exchange are allowed since the union members feel that $10.00 is too much money and executives believe $10.00 is a little chintzy.
NO GIFTS EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.
Patty
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
To: All Employees
DATE: Nov 04, 2004
RE: Holiday Party
What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20 begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during daylight hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs. Perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party- or else package everything for you to take it home in little foil doggy baggy. Will that work? Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms. Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men, each will have their own table. Yes, there will be flower arrangement for the Gay men's table. To the person asking permission to cross dress, no cross-dressing allowed though. We will have booster seats for short people. Low-fat food will be available for those on a diet. We cannot control the salt used in the food we suggest for those people with high blood pressure to taste first. There will be fresh fruits as dessert for Diabetics; the restaurant cannot supply "No Sugar" desserts. Sorry! Did I miss anything?!
Patty
FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All F***ing Employees
DATE: Nov 05, 2007
RE: The F***ing Holiday Party
Vegetarian pricks I've had it with you people!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it, and you'll get your f ***ing salad bar, including organic tomatoes. But you know, tomatoes have feelings, too. They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW! I hope you all have a rotten holiday! Drive drunk and die,
The Bitch from HELL!!!!!!!!
FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Human Resources Director
DATE: Nov 06, 2007
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party
I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her. In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.
Happy Holidays!
Friday, December 14, 2007
For the children: The Mitchell Report
I'm for freedom. I actually think it is a good idea. I'm not using the word as some code-word for military aggression and terrorist fear-mongering.
I think we should let the athletes do what they want. The government should not be involved. If baseball wants to regulate itself, it will. Let the truth be revealed.
I've heard many express concern about the children. What are they going to learn from all this if we let people cheat at professional sports? They will learn that people cheat and cheaters win.
What kind of role model does a professional athlete make if they cheat to become champions? The same kind they do now--lousy ones. Professional athletes are self-indulgent and self-impressed entertainers, mostly television entertainers. Sporting events are the original reality TV.
There are some very fine people who work as professional athletes. They make wonderful role models. We know who they are, but they aren't always the ones that win. We want the best to also be the hardest working, most pious, most disciplined of the bunch. We think that there's something about winning that proves character, that the top prize always goes to the best person.
No, it doesn't. Can you say Barry Bonds? The kids can handle that information and it will help them to understand that it is *not* whether you win or lose, it really *is* how you play the game, if we DON'T protect them from the hard truth that success does not breed character. Cheaters win. Cheaters break records. They aren't the only ones who do, but they do.
We honor people for who they are, not what they've done. That's the lesson you want the children to get.
There is nothing stopping baseball from eliminating performance-enhancing drugs from the game, but it will cost them more than they are willing to pay in money and in fans. They will have to care less about winning.
But leave the government out of it.
So get the government out of it. It's nice the George Mitchell did what he did, but it should have been paid for by the private concerns with an interest in proving the facts, not by the government.
The kids need to know how life really is, how people really act. They can handle the truth, don't pretend that professional sports is somehow immune from human frailty.
I think we should let the athletes do what they want. The government should not be involved. If baseball wants to regulate itself, it will. Let the truth be revealed.
I've heard many express concern about the children. What are they going to learn from all this if we let people cheat at professional sports? They will learn that people cheat and cheaters win.
What kind of role model does a professional athlete make if they cheat to become champions? The same kind they do now--lousy ones. Professional athletes are self-indulgent and self-impressed entertainers, mostly television entertainers. Sporting events are the original reality TV.
There are some very fine people who work as professional athletes. They make wonderful role models. We know who they are, but they aren't always the ones that win. We want the best to also be the hardest working, most pious, most disciplined of the bunch. We think that there's something about winning that proves character, that the top prize always goes to the best person.
No, it doesn't. Can you say Barry Bonds? The kids can handle that information and it will help them to understand that it is *not* whether you win or lose, it really *is* how you play the game, if we DON'T protect them from the hard truth that success does not breed character. Cheaters win. Cheaters break records. They aren't the only ones who do, but they do.
We honor people for who they are, not what they've done. That's the lesson you want the children to get.
There is nothing stopping baseball from eliminating performance-enhancing drugs from the game, but it will cost them more than they are willing to pay in money and in fans. They will have to care less about winning.
But leave the government out of it.
So get the government out of it. It's nice the George Mitchell did what he did, but it should have been paid for by the private concerns with an interest in proving the facts, not by the government.
The kids need to know how life really is, how people really act. They can handle the truth, don't pretend that professional sports is somehow immune from human frailty.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Check-in
There was a lot of substance in group tonight. One member announced her intention to leave, for sure, on date certain. I will miss her, but my loss and sadness are mixed with sympathetic joy and compassion. She's leaving to do something which is at least as risky as staying in group, so I don't feel like she's fleeing the group in cowardice. And what she is doing is an expression of her, she's going to graduate school in her field in pursuit of a PhD.
She will have an obligation associated with that which is coincidental with the group's weekly meeting. After that is over, she'll just as likely need the time for something else. Being a graduate student requires time and attention. Her choice is rational and appropriate.
And that does make it hurt less somehow because I am not shouldering the additional feelings of resentment, anger, disagreement or confusion by her choice. It is what it is. Our relationship is going to end in about a month.
Of course I want to stay in touch with her after group. She was my buddy in group, someone with whom I felt no agenda in the relationship other than to have it. I just wanted her to be herself. I love her.
Will I? I honestly don't know. I know I want to, but that doesn't a relationship make. She's attractive, kind, funny, and smart, but I have no romantic agenda with her. There are many reasons for that, it doesn't really matter what they are, they exist.
The only question I have is whether I will pursue friendship with her after she leaves the group. I don't have to make that decision now, so I'm not making it. I'll have a lot more information later when it becomes relevant.
The new roommate did not rob me blind or kill my cat while I was in Texas. Because of this he can advance a level in his quest for perfect roommateness.
I am having angry and retaliatory thoughts towards my father's widow. I am observing those, being mindful of them, looking compassionately for wisdom and information in all that. I will never act in anger, or to retaliate, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to act. I will not disappear.
Lots of emotions going on. Lots of practice. I am satisfied with my sitting. Thoughts are seen more clearly. Actions are more mindful and deliberate. There's a reason why for so many zen practice becomes a part of life like showering and brushing teeth. Sitting is as fundamental as those other ways of simply caring for one's self. I am continually shifting and arranging things so that I can sit well.
Be well, be happy, be free of confusion and dissatisfaction.
She will have an obligation associated with that which is coincidental with the group's weekly meeting. After that is over, she'll just as likely need the time for something else. Being a graduate student requires time and attention. Her choice is rational and appropriate.
And that does make it hurt less somehow because I am not shouldering the additional feelings of resentment, anger, disagreement or confusion by her choice. It is what it is. Our relationship is going to end in about a month.
Of course I want to stay in touch with her after group. She was my buddy in group, someone with whom I felt no agenda in the relationship other than to have it. I just wanted her to be herself. I love her.
Will I? I honestly don't know. I know I want to, but that doesn't a relationship make. She's attractive, kind, funny, and smart, but I have no romantic agenda with her. There are many reasons for that, it doesn't really matter what they are, they exist.
The only question I have is whether I will pursue friendship with her after she leaves the group. I don't have to make that decision now, so I'm not making it. I'll have a lot more information later when it becomes relevant.
The new roommate did not rob me blind or kill my cat while I was in Texas. Because of this he can advance a level in his quest for perfect roommateness.
I am having angry and retaliatory thoughts towards my father's widow. I am observing those, being mindful of them, looking compassionately for wisdom and information in all that. I will never act in anger, or to retaliate, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to act. I will not disappear.
Lots of emotions going on. Lots of practice. I am satisfied with my sitting. Thoughts are seen more clearly. Actions are more mindful and deliberate. There's a reason why for so many zen practice becomes a part of life like showering and brushing teeth. Sitting is as fundamental as those other ways of simply caring for one's self. I am continually shifting and arranging things so that I can sit well.
Be well, be happy, be free of confusion and dissatisfaction.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Travelogue: Ch-ch-ch-changes...
Wow, I go out of town for a few days and we lose Em and JtS. I missed al the drama. That's okay, I had plenty of my own.
Monday, the last day in Austin was marked in the first half by a foggy/misty drive into the Hill Country to get BBQ at Mecca, Cooper's in Llano. It was a beautiful way to make the drive, everything was shrouded in mist, it was like a long fuzzy white-grey tunnel out Hiway 71. When we arrived I ate a beautiful smoked pork chop, my companion tuckfoot (friend him, he's mostly harmless) had some Cabrito (goat), it was a bit salty, as Cabrito is traditionally prepared, but some of the best I have ever had in the Americas (and I've never had it anywhere else).
The last part of the day was consumed with playing poker with a group of old friends. I won $8. I would have won a lot more, but Carl still doesn't know how to play poker. He folds when he should raise (that is, when I have a better hand) and he calls bets he has no business calling (then he draws out on me). It's frustrating, I wish I could send him to poker school.
After poker I went out to spend an ever too brief hour or two with another old friend, a last minute addition to the itinerary.
Tuesday after sitting and having breakfast with tuckfoot, then chatting some with the friend with whom I had stayed, I head out for Dallas. I stopped at a Starbucks along the way to check e-mail and I got one from my lawyer. He said I needed to ask my father's widow a direct question. The contention regarding the legality of making good on the promise she made to my father on his deathbed was conflated. She could legally do what she promised him she would do with his money. I needed to find out if she was going to keep her promise.
I called her and asked to chat with her. We did. She did most of the talking, I asked very few questions, she had a script prepared for me in her head and I frustrated her somewhat by not asking the questions she thought I would, by not reacting the way she thought I would react and by not making the counter-arguments she thought I would assert. I mostly listened and nodded my head in understanding as she went through her tense script of rationalizations, justifications and smears of my character. It was odd and disjointed, a large litany of defensive declarations and half-truths, responses to her imagined reactions of mine, strung together non sequitor since I wasn't playing the role she had assigned to me in her rehearsals.
At the heart of the matter, she told me that she was not going to keep the promise she made to my father on his deathbed, that she was going to keep the money of his that he wanted me to have.
I could tell from her frantic monologue that she knows what she is doing is wrong, but she is in greater service to her greed than to her heart. She chose to betray my dead father rather than worry about not having enough money. It was a sad day for us both.
After I left, I cried. A lot. I need about 1/4 of the money that Dad wanted me to have immediately and urgently. That's what I cried about, my life is going to be full of difficult choices for years to come because of this, but it is also sad that she has chosen to take something that wasn't given to her just because she can.
Please refrain yourself from armchair Perry Masonry. I have plenty of legal counsel. There's nothing the legal system can do for me.
I'm okay. I have my self-respect, my integrity, and the love/admiration of my friends. She has forfeited that in her life. Her children refuse to speak to her. This is a tragedy for us both, but a far greater one for her, in my opinion.
That night, I spent the evening reeling in the company of friends. At this writing I am awaiting bad weather delays at DFW to get back home to LaGaurdia.
It will be a very long time before I am in Texas again, I think.
Monday, the last day in Austin was marked in the first half by a foggy/misty drive into the Hill Country to get BBQ at Mecca, Cooper's in Llano. It was a beautiful way to make the drive, everything was shrouded in mist, it was like a long fuzzy white-grey tunnel out Hiway 71. When we arrived I ate a beautiful smoked pork chop, my companion tuckfoot (friend him, he's mostly harmless) had some Cabrito (goat), it was a bit salty, as Cabrito is traditionally prepared, but some of the best I have ever had in the Americas (and I've never had it anywhere else).
The last part of the day was consumed with playing poker with a group of old friends. I won $8. I would have won a lot more, but Carl still doesn't know how to play poker. He folds when he should raise (that is, when I have a better hand) and he calls bets he has no business calling (then he draws out on me). It's frustrating, I wish I could send him to poker school.
After poker I went out to spend an ever too brief hour or two with another old friend, a last minute addition to the itinerary.
Tuesday after sitting and having breakfast with tuckfoot, then chatting some with the friend with whom I had stayed, I head out for Dallas. I stopped at a Starbucks along the way to check e-mail and I got one from my lawyer. He said I needed to ask my father's widow a direct question. The contention regarding the legality of making good on the promise she made to my father on his deathbed was conflated. She could legally do what she promised him she would do with his money. I needed to find out if she was going to keep her promise.
I called her and asked to chat with her. We did. She did most of the talking, I asked very few questions, she had a script prepared for me in her head and I frustrated her somewhat by not asking the questions she thought I would, by not reacting the way she thought I would react and by not making the counter-arguments she thought I would assert. I mostly listened and nodded my head in understanding as she went through her tense script of rationalizations, justifications and smears of my character. It was odd and disjointed, a large litany of defensive declarations and half-truths, responses to her imagined reactions of mine, strung together non sequitor since I wasn't playing the role she had assigned to me in her rehearsals.
At the heart of the matter, she told me that she was not going to keep the promise she made to my father on his deathbed, that she was going to keep the money of his that he wanted me to have.
I could tell from her frantic monologue that she knows what she is doing is wrong, but she is in greater service to her greed than to her heart. She chose to betray my dead father rather than worry about not having enough money. It was a sad day for us both.
After I left, I cried. A lot. I need about 1/4 of the money that Dad wanted me to have immediately and urgently. That's what I cried about, my life is going to be full of difficult choices for years to come because of this, but it is also sad that she has chosen to take something that wasn't given to her just because she can.
Please refrain yourself from armchair Perry Masonry. I have plenty of legal counsel. There's nothing the legal system can do for me.
I'm okay. I have my self-respect, my integrity, and the love/admiration of my friends. She has forfeited that in her life. Her children refuse to speak to her. This is a tragedy for us both, but a far greater one for her, in my opinion.
That night, I spent the evening reeling in the company of friends. At this writing I am awaiting bad weather delays at DFW to get back home to LaGaurdia.
It will be a very long time before I am in Texas again, I think.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Travelogue: Ordinary Austin
I began my Sunday in Austin at the Ordinary Mind Zen Center, participating in the Sunday morning program. Nice people, lovely zendo, awake teacher (Peg). You really can't ask for much more out of a practice center. I recommend it. I went to a post-zazenkai get together at Texas French Bread and chatted with a portion of the group, an unusual opportunity for a student visiting for such a short time, they're damn nice people and I admire their practice.
Then I went over to Conan's Pizza and got a couple of pies for watching the Cowboy game. What a squeaker, a very entertaining game for Cowboys fans, then I went shopping for a few things that I can't get easily in NYC, e.g., local texas music, specialty salsas, Texas calendars, Texas Christmas Tree ornaments, etc.
After hanging out at a friend's house for a while getting caught up I took the friend with whom I am staying, and another friend in Austin, out for some dead cow at the Austin Land and Cattle Company.
It is important, I am told, to distinguish this organization from the Texas Land and Cattle Company, a regional chain. The food was excellent at Austin Land and Cattle Company. I have never eaten at Texas Land and Cattle Company.
I had to get in bed after that since I was slated to rise at 4:15am for a sit with the Austin Zen Center. It is a place very reminiscent of the San Francisco Zen Center. They were just having an informal sit since they just finished their rohatsu sesshin, the annual 7-day meditation period in observance of the celebrated day of the Buddha's enlightenment, December 8, so I didn't get to see much of the Center, but it certainly looked and felt like City Center in SF.
Just an ordinary day, for the most part.
Then I went over to Conan's Pizza and got a couple of pies for watching the Cowboy game. What a squeaker, a very entertaining game for Cowboys fans, then I went shopping for a few things that I can't get easily in NYC, e.g., local texas music, specialty salsas, Texas calendars, Texas Christmas Tree ornaments, etc.
After hanging out at a friend's house for a while getting caught up I took the friend with whom I am staying, and another friend in Austin, out for some dead cow at the Austin Land and Cattle Company.
It is important, I am told, to distinguish this organization from the Texas Land and Cattle Company, a regional chain. The food was excellent at Austin Land and Cattle Company. I have never eaten at Texas Land and Cattle Company.
I had to get in bed after that since I was slated to rise at 4:15am for a sit with the Austin Zen Center. It is a place very reminiscent of the San Francisco Zen Center. They were just having an informal sit since they just finished their rohatsu sesshin, the annual 7-day meditation period in observance of the celebrated day of the Buddha's enlightenment, December 8, so I didn't get to see much of the Center, but it certainly looked and felt like City Center in SF.
Just an ordinary day, for the most part.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Travelogue: Back in Austin
Sorry about the double post on Dad's grave. I posted it in the photo album section here, which doesn't cross-post to my blogger account, then I went to blogger and posted it without telling it not to cross-post here. Doh!
The drive to Austin was relatively uneventful, had a lot of time to think about the triggers that being in various places and seeing various things will tick-off in my mind. That was the most interesting part of the trip--my own restless mind while driving.
The entire day in Austin was a series of mis-cues and failed connections. But that was fine, that gave me a significant amount of time by myself here, which I didn't realize until it happened was something I needed. I used to come to Austin to "re-charge" something, now I realize I don't know what that means.
My connection to here is slipping away, as all connections do. There's nothing enduring and eternal here, just like there's nothing enduring and eternal anywhere, but I realize that in previous trips I had been clinging pretty tightly to that notion. I felt that something about me needed to be here periodically, I used to assert such to anyone who asked, but the truth is that while there are some things that I like to do here which I can't do anywhere else, there's nothing happening here when I visit to me that doesn't happen anywhere.
That is both and at once a comforting and unsettling notion.
I went to The Chili Parlor, my hang-out in town (it was my mailing address in Austin for a number of years), and as I sat there I realized that this connection that I (think I) feel I had to the place was just a notion, a thought I was clinging to in my mind. It's not really there. It's not that I don't enjoy being here, it's just that I notice there's nothing particularly special about being here that distinguishes it from other places.
I have dearly loved friends here whom I very much enjoy being with, but I am with them in the context of our relationship now, in 2007, not because of our connection to the relationship we had when I was an Austinite. I like to go and do Austin things with them, and go to Austin places, but the heart of that joy is being with them, the fact that we're in Austin is not nearly as much of a factor as I used to believe. I am seeing it differently now.
So, I notice that I am more awake here on this trip, less lost in my thoughts, less trying to defend some belief I have about specialness or permanence.
Like I said, both comforting and unsettling.
The drive to Austin was relatively uneventful, had a lot of time to think about the triggers that being in various places and seeing various things will tick-off in my mind. That was the most interesting part of the trip--my own restless mind while driving.
The entire day in Austin was a series of mis-cues and failed connections. But that was fine, that gave me a significant amount of time by myself here, which I didn't realize until it happened was something I needed. I used to come to Austin to "re-charge" something, now I realize I don't know what that means.
My connection to here is slipping away, as all connections do. There's nothing enduring and eternal here, just like there's nothing enduring and eternal anywhere, but I realize that in previous trips I had been clinging pretty tightly to that notion. I felt that something about me needed to be here periodically, I used to assert such to anyone who asked, but the truth is that while there are some things that I like to do here which I can't do anywhere else, there's nothing happening here when I visit to me that doesn't happen anywhere.
That is both and at once a comforting and unsettling notion.
I went to The Chili Parlor, my hang-out in town (it was my mailing address in Austin for a number of years), and as I sat there I realized that this connection that I (think I) feel I had to the place was just a notion, a thought I was clinging to in my mind. It's not really there. It's not that I don't enjoy being here, it's just that I notice there's nothing particularly special about being here that distinguishes it from other places.
I have dearly loved friends here whom I very much enjoy being with, but I am with them in the context of our relationship now, in 2007, not because of our connection to the relationship we had when I was an Austinite. I like to go and do Austin things with them, and go to Austin places, but the heart of that joy is being with them, the fact that we're in Austin is not nearly as much of a factor as I used to believe. I am seeing it differently now.
So, I notice that I am more awake here on this trip, less lost in my thoughts, less trying to defend some belief I have about specialness or permanence.
Like I said, both comforting and unsettling.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Travelogue: Dallas/Austin
Day 1: The flight attendant that was in the back of the plane with me was friendly and talkative. She was a 22 year veteran and had never seen anything like this. Our plane had spent the night at LGA, we had a dusting of snow the night before, so the plane had to de-iced.
When it came time to back the plane out from the gate, the tractor doing so got stuck in the de-icing material that had dripped on to the tarmac. The pilot told us it had the consistency and viscosity of motor oil, the plane was heavy, and once the tractor lost traction it was done. They got some sand and salt and spread that on the tarmac and about 45 minutes later they moved us the last 20 yards on to dry pavement.
Then they started the engine and there was a VERY loud whirring sound coming from the right engine (we were on a 757). Pilot comes back on, says he wants the mechanics to take a look at that, so we get pulled back up to the gate. The mechanics report that the problem was incomplete de-icing, so they finish the job and back us out again. They restart the engine and it makes a similar noise but much more subtle, so the pilot says we can go.
We taxi out to the long line of planes waiting to depart and something happens I've never seen before--we jump the line. The pilot pulls the plane into about the middle of the line, we wait about another 15 minutes to take off. I check the Treo when the wheels leave the ground, it is 2:09pm, our scheduled departure was 12 noon.
I have a row to myself in the back of the plane, so I spread out and start working, the flight attendants announce beverage service and tell people they have snacks for sale. I am at the back of the plane and I notice about half an hour later that the flight attendants are beginning to have rather animated conversations with passengers about 10 rows ahead of me. I hear the flight attendant I had been talking to mutter as she walks by "what do they expect me to do, pull a fillet out of my ass?"
Apparently they ran out of food (that they had for sale) and people found this frustrating. When she gets back to me she asks me if I want something to drink, I ask for a Diet Dr. Pepper and she says "I think they have one up in first class" and she marches up to the front of the plane.
When she gets back, Diet Dr. Pepper in hand, I thank her and say "And could you pull a cookie or something out of your ass?" She laughs, smiles warmly at me and puts her hand on my shoulder as she walks back to the galley. I was hungry, but what can you do? I left the food I had planned to take with me in my kitchen.
About half an hour later she comes back to me with a huge oatmeal cookie. They had located some additional snacks and were quietly distributing them in the back of the plane. It was delicious.
So we arrived in Dallas one hour and forty-five minutes late and it is almost hot outside. WTF?
The function for which I had arrived on this date, the 50th wedding anniversary of some good friends of mine, parents of my best friend from high school, surrogate parents of mine. It was at the downtown El Fenix, a Tex-Mex place known not so much for it's food but it's longevity and endurance as a Dallas landmark. I met the owner, a Dallas icon, and the party was great.
The next day (yesterday) my mother and I went out to Dad's grave and spent the day talking and catching up with each other. Last night, we drank an AWESOME bottle of wine (review to come) and ate pizza while listening to music and chatting about Zen. My friend here is a beginning student.
Austin is next, I'll leave to drive down there in a couple of hours.
When it came time to back the plane out from the gate, the tractor doing so got stuck in the de-icing material that had dripped on to the tarmac. The pilot told us it had the consistency and viscosity of motor oil, the plane was heavy, and once the tractor lost traction it was done. They got some sand and salt and spread that on the tarmac and about 45 minutes later they moved us the last 20 yards on to dry pavement.
Then they started the engine and there was a VERY loud whirring sound coming from the right engine (we were on a 757). Pilot comes back on, says he wants the mechanics to take a look at that, so we get pulled back up to the gate. The mechanics report that the problem was incomplete de-icing, so they finish the job and back us out again. They restart the engine and it makes a similar noise but much more subtle, so the pilot says we can go.
We taxi out to the long line of planes waiting to depart and something happens I've never seen before--we jump the line. The pilot pulls the plane into about the middle of the line, we wait about another 15 minutes to take off. I check the Treo when the wheels leave the ground, it is 2:09pm, our scheduled departure was 12 noon.
I have a row to myself in the back of the plane, so I spread out and start working, the flight attendants announce beverage service and tell people they have snacks for sale. I am at the back of the plane and I notice about half an hour later that the flight attendants are beginning to have rather animated conversations with passengers about 10 rows ahead of me. I hear the flight attendant I had been talking to mutter as she walks by "what do they expect me to do, pull a fillet out of my ass?"
Apparently they ran out of food (that they had for sale) and people found this frustrating. When she gets back to me she asks me if I want something to drink, I ask for a Diet Dr. Pepper and she says "I think they have one up in first class" and she marches up to the front of the plane.
When she gets back, Diet Dr. Pepper in hand, I thank her and say "And could you pull a cookie or something out of your ass?" She laughs, smiles warmly at me and puts her hand on my shoulder as she walks back to the galley. I was hungry, but what can you do? I left the food I had planned to take with me in my kitchen.
About half an hour later she comes back to me with a huge oatmeal cookie. They had located some additional snacks and were quietly distributing them in the back of the plane. It was delicious.
So we arrived in Dallas one hour and forty-five minutes late and it is almost hot outside. WTF?
The function for which I had arrived on this date, the 50th wedding anniversary of some good friends of mine, parents of my best friend from high school, surrogate parents of mine. It was at the downtown El Fenix, a Tex-Mex place known not so much for it's food but it's longevity and endurance as a Dallas landmark. I met the owner, a Dallas icon, and the party was great.
The next day (yesterday) my mother and I went out to Dad's grave and spent the day talking and catching up with each other. Last night, we drank an AWESOME bottle of wine (review to come) and ate pizza while listening to music and chatting about Zen. My friend here is a beginning student.
Austin is next, I'll leave to drive down there in a couple of hours.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
QotD: Fish swim the ocean, birds fly the sky
A fish swims in the ocean, and no matter how far it swims there is no end to the water. A bird flies in the sky, and no matter how far it flies there is no end to the air. However, the fish and the bird have never left their elements. When their activity is large their field is large. When their need is small their field is small. Thus, each of them totally covers its full range, and each of them totally experiences its real. Practice, enlightenment, and people are like this.
NB: Dogen (1200-1253) is the master or masters in my religious tradition. It is when reading quotes like this one that I realize the value of all the meditation I do. I am starting get a peek under the corner of the tent regarding his teachings.
cf.
- Zen Master Dogen, Moon in a Dewdrop, edited by Kazuaki Tanahashi
NB: Dogen (1200-1253) is the master or masters in my religious tradition. It is when reading quotes like this one that I realize the value of all the meditation I do. I am starting get a peek under the corner of the tent regarding his teachings.
cf.
Monday, December 3, 2007
The questions the Buddha refused to answer.
In light of these posts I've seen about discussing religion, defining agnosticism, seeing reality and such, I thought it was a good time to present the questions the Buddha refused to answer. If you asked him about these things, he would simply remain silent. I'll explain that in a minute.
These are sometimes referred to the ten questions, sometimes the fourteen. Whatever. They are (in modern English):
Is time real?
Is time an illusion?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Is space real?
Is space an illusion?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Is there life after death?
Is there no life after death?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Are the soul/self and the body the same?
Are the soul/self and the body different?
When asked these questions the Buddha would simply be silent.
Why? Because it is all so much mental masturbation. The answers (if there are any, if they can be known would do nothing to inform one regarding how to take care of the present moment. Taking care of the present moment is the only task at hand.
There's wisdom in this.
These are sometimes referred to the ten questions, sometimes the fourteen. Whatever. They are (in modern English):
Is time real?
Is time an illusion?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Is space real?
Is space an illusion?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Is there life after death?
Is there no life after death?
Is it both?
Is it neither?
Are the soul/self and the body the same?
Are the soul/self and the body different?
When asked these questions the Buddha would simply be silent.
Why? Because it is all so much mental masturbation. The answers (if there are any, if they can be known would do nothing to inform one regarding how to take care of the present moment. Taking care of the present moment is the only task at hand.
There's wisdom in this.
QotD: Don't blame the butcher
Right livelihood has ceased to be a purely personal matter. It is our collective karma. Suppose I am a schoolteacher and I believe that nurturing love and understanding in children is a beautiful occupation. I would object if someone were to ask me to stop teaching and become, for example, a butcher. But when I meditate on the interrelatedness of all things, I can see that the butcher is not the only person responsible for killing animals. He does his work for all of us who eat meat. We are co-responsible for his act of killing. We may think the butcher's livelihood is wrong and ours is right, but if we didn't eat meat, he wouldn't have to kill, or he would kill less. Right livelihood is a collective matter. The livelihood of each person affects us all and vice versa. The butcher's children may benefit from my teaching, while my children, because they eat meat, share some responsibility for the butcher's livelihood.
- Thich Nhat Hanh, in Claude Whitmayer's Mindfulness and Meaningful Work
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