Choice
m always on the lookout for examples of people who have gone through great challenges and came out the other end stronger and transformed. This month I’d like to share someone with you who is an answer to my prayer for guidance during these tumultuous times. I’m not sure how I found out about the book, The Choice, by Dr. Edith Eva Eger. Sometimes these gifts just seem to appear at the perfect time. At the age of 16 Dr. Eger was arrested by the Nazis along with her family and sent to Auschwitz. She bravely describes the hell she lived through during the holocaust. Like her fellow survivor and mentor Victor Frankel, she had the ability to bear witness during the worst conditions imaginable. She miraculously survived Auschwitz and other horrors then, after being liberated at the brink of death, faced the ordeal of finding her way as a refugee in America with no money, few resources and unable to speak English. But she persisted through it all being a wife, a mother, then a single mother and eventually, in middle age, she got her doctorate in psychology. Dr. Eger became known for her ability to help people suffering from PTSD and other difficult cases. She died last year at 98. Her stamina and ability to survive is hard to phantom.
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AI and the Buddha
A friend pulled out a picture of her three children and I noticed that all of them had eerily delighted smiles on their faces. I asked her how she got them to all smile at the same time and she said, “I did it through Chat GPT”. On her wall is the image of this happy, perfect family who looked like they just got off the polar express movie. I’m watching friends enjoy the latest AI toys with wonder. One friend got free medical advice without having to see a doctor, one an airbrushed image of herself 40 years younger in a leather jacket that convinced her that she would look like this if she bought the jacket, one a well- organized dharma talk with charts put in logical order that was devoid of the juicy human errors that make a teaching so compelling. Some even find an AI boyfriend who doesn’t snore or have any past trauma to deal with. I get it. It’s fun to enter raw data into a computer and be given a clean, ideal version of reality, a reality of certainty where messiness, blemishes and nuances are not a factor. But with all its attraction and usefulness, AI has its limits. Something essential is missing in everything it touches.
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Christmas every friday
Today is Friday, or as it is known in my home, Christmas. Every Thursday night I go to bed with a certain glee that in the morning I will awaken, step out of the warmth of my bed and go to the front door where my CSA box awaits me. For those of you who don’t know, CSA stands for community supported agriculture. It consists of a group of local farmers who form subscription packages. The consumer pays a weekly price and each week the farmer harvests whatever is growing in their garden then delivers the fruits and vegtables and sometimes grains, meats and dairly, to their patrons door. You never know what will be in the box. It’s a brilliant business model that maintains a steady income for the local farmers and provides the very freshest produce, often picked that morning, to the consumer. No middle men, no food designed more for shipping and shelf life than for taste, no destroying the land to obtain the greatest profit.
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What If?
Indulge me if you will during our brief time together with a game of What If? It’s a game I play by myself regularly and thought it would be fun to share it with you. This is how it goes; we ask the question, what if?, and then use our imagination to pretend, as best we can, that what we are imagining is true. So find a quiet moment to sit back, relax, and enter the world of your imagination. When you feel you are in a good space of mind and body to do so, sit with these questions and take the time to imagine your responses are as real as any other world you inhabit (remember-just reading this list is like eating dry cardboard and will not give the same sensation as applying your imagination to each inquiry):
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Epstein's secret Power
Hiring a band that has over 16 musicians is expensive. Some groups afforded us by gathering their resources together, as in spaghetti feeds at veteran’s halls. The wealthy could afford to hire us for smaller gatherings like corporate events or country club parties. From my perch I watched them all and was struck by the varied enjoyment levels of each group. The amount of joy on the dance floor seemed to be in direct proportion to the wealth of the patrons. What I noticed, over and over again, was that the wealthier the patrons the less fun they seemed to be having. The spaghetti feeds were joyous events with packed dance floors and deeply appreciative clients letting go and fully enjoying their night out. The least joyful events were groups of wealthy people who appeared more concerned about appearances than having fun. They were more somber, more uptight, less free. I often thought to myself, while up there quietly observing, that I would much prefer to live in the spaghetti feed world. They had less money, less power, less access to material things, but they knew how to enjoy the moments of their lives.
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All Hands on Deck
Today I am feeling a flicker of pride in America. Not in our government, but in the people. I’m proud of the creativity of the people in Portland who came to ICE raids dressed as cartoon characters to deflect the image that those at the top would like to portray, proud of the Minnesotans who march down the streets singing so that the people who are afraid to come out of their homes know their neighbors have their back. I’m proud of Alex Pretti who said during a service for one of his veteran patients, “Today we remember that freedom is not free, we have to work for it, nurture it, protect it, and even sacrifice for it.” I’m proud of my community who have sustained peaceful efforts and spoke out about the injustices early on.
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The Artists
I obtained this quote from somewhere, I’m not sure where- (if you recognize it and know who said it please let me know!). I keep it in my painting studio and look at it from time to time to remember my true north. At the turning of the year amidst all the ugliness rearing its fearful head, I have the strangest feeling that the artists are going to rise up and remind humanity what is good and beautiful about being human. I encourage you to lend your voice to expressing the joy and suffering, hand in hand, that you see in the world and in your life now. Your voice is important and dearly needed.
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Maitreya
There are many prophesies that there will be a return of a great spiritual leader. In Christianity it’s a return of Jesus, in Judaism it’s the Messiah. In the Buddhism the next Buddha is called Maitreya and predicted to arrive in an era of decline. The word Maitreya stems from the Sanskrit word for friendship. There’s a story told that this future Buddha will arrive as, not one spiritually gifted person, but as a community. I mentioned this to a friend the other day and she reminded me of Thich Nhat Hanh’s words, “It is said that the next Buddha will be named "Maitreya," the Buddha of Love. I believe that Maitreya might not take the form of an individual, but as a community showing us the way of love and compassion.” I don’t know if this was a passing thought or if he read it in Buddhist scriptures but this idea resonated with me. Scriptures are stories, or prophecies, passed down through the ages. We create new stories to respond to new times. Perhaps our time calls for, not a solitary savior, but a community of heart centered people working together to preserve life.
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November
Annie Lamont spoke about how, as children, we abandon our own gut responses so we can feel safe. We take on our parents narrative and learn to not trust our own intuition. It’s hard to wake up from the dream of how I thought the world operates and humbly fess up to how complicit I’ve been with the mess we are now in. I have been buying from Amazon rather than supporting my local bookstore because it is easier, sometime cheaper, and I get what I want without waiting. But by not buying from my local bookstore the profits go out of my community and eventually the independent bookstore whitters up and dies leaving me no choice but to buy from a large corporation. If I can’t give up some comforts to support a healthier world and planet I have to face that I am part of the problem. This is the challenge I’m being asked to step up to now. Giving up some of my comfort for the greater good.
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In the field of biomimicry nature’s systems are studied and imitated in order to solve problems we are dealing with in our human realm. In nature, the gossamer threads of mycelium that cover the earth are strong, not because they are large, dominating and threatening, but because they are pervasive and adaptive. They move quietly through the ground under out feet supporting the land. They serve as highways for communication between plants, remaining invisibly underground while sending up emissaries in the form of mushrooms. Micellium are decentralized and do not draw attention to themselves. As we are now facing a breakdown of society we can learn how to form strong, resilient societies from mycilium, one neighbor at a time.
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Joy
Today it is revolutionary to care, to love, to feel joy. Sometimes we may feel ashamed to express joy when so many are suffering terribly. When asked if it was OK to be happy when there’s so much suffering happening, Roshi Bernie Glassman said, “I think it’s a requirement to be full of joy in the midst of suffering”. He talked about how Wavy Gravy, friend of the Grateful Dead, has a manuscript of humor written by inmates in Auschwitz. If inmates in Auschwitz and find humor I believe we can also.
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The Carrot Seed
In this age of anxiety as we witness a crisis of selfishness, cruelty and lack of regard for the well-being of others unfold before our eyes, often feeling helpless to stop it, we need to find ways to soothe ourselves. We soothe ourselves, not to turn our backs on the suffering, but to replenish our reserve of hope in the basic goodness of life so that we can continue to advocate for love. We are being challenged to bring our best selves to the task and to never give up. In the words of John Lewis, “Be hopeful. Be optimistic. Never lose that sense of hope.” In order to do this we need to continually replenish our reserves.
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Instructions for Living a Life
This month I’d like to share the simple words of Mary Oliver with you. These are my practice words when I loose my grounding:
Instructions for Living a Life
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.
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Look for the Helpers
The picture above is by Chiura Obata, one of my favorite artists. Chiura Obata was a Japanese American artist teaching in Berkeley California in the 1940’s. After the bombing of Pearl Harbor Japanese citizens were rounded up and sent to internment camps. Innocent citizens became the face of an enemy threatening our life and values, not unlike how the new immigrants are being targeted now. While at the internment camp Obata developed an art school for his fellow detainees and painted over 200 brilliant paintings. He used art to his lift the spirits of his people reminding them of the beauty of their culture and applying the natural world to their wounds.
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MAX
I’m on board with the realization that everything that is living dies, that all things and thoughts have their life span and then pass. But the empty space left when someone we love is no longer there, someone we will never see again, is not something I can grasp with my mind.
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love on the spectrum
Like many others, I have become enchanted by the series Love on the spectrum. If you haven’t yet seen it, it follows a number of young men and women who are on the autism spectrum as they date and find love. Being on the spectrum they lack the social filters those who are neuro-typical have. They say what is on their mind and their feelings are strong and on display. Not having the typical filters, they don’t manipulate or play games with their feelings. When they listen they take the time to really listen before responding honestly. They sit in their uncomfortable silences. Like all of us, they want to love and be loved. My friend said these are the real indigo children. I believe that is very likely true.
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Beauty
Right now in Sonoma the fruit trees are in blossom. It’s a joy to see new life emerging after the long winter. This april, rather than write an essay, I want to share my bliss with you with as few words as possible.
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There is no need to avoid crossed swords
As someone who has been meditating for over 50 years you might think I have it down. But I’ve never felt complacent in my practice. Struggles come and go. Now, as my emotions are at an all- time high in reaction to events in the world, when I most need them to be stable, meditation sometimes feels more like a wrestling match with a demon than a moment of bliss. When I sit down to meditate these days all sorts of uninvited guests commandeer my quiet. Yet after a meditation session, when I am able to watch the uncomfortable emotions come and go, things settle down. This new peace does not come from avoiding the demons but from sitting with them and allowing them to be part of my experience. They do not really exist so they dissolve.
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Creativity, Wellness and Belonging
In the past eighteen years I’ve written a dharma essay each month and sent it out to my readers. My intention in writing is to be of service, especially during trying times like these. Those in power are purposely trying to overwhelm us in order to create confusion and inactivity. Our challenge is to take ourselves in hand and re-regulate our nervous systems. In this vein I’d like to share a list of things that have been helpful to me.
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the barn burned down, now I can see the moon
The barn burned down, now I see the moon
Mizuta Masahide
When the barn is burning
And animals scatter
Sweep up the motes of star dust
Free from form now
Cradle the frightened animals
And don’t forget to look up at the silvery moon
Even more radiant in the darker dark
And remember who you are
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