Friday, November 25, 2011

"The sage points at the moon.  The idiot see's only the finger."

---Eastern Saying

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Gratitude Day.  Harvest Celebrations.  Thanksgiving.
Let's eat our gratitude.  May that be our food.  Eat our thankfulness, chew it, swallow and eat some more until we are bursting with blessings, belching joy from a belly round with laughter.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

How cute is this for a perfect fall photo op.  These frisky fellows were enjoying a jack-o-lantern feast on our patio, while the boys enjoyed pumpkin pie at the kitchen table.   It is always fun to see something planted and full of hope in the spring become a meal for family and furry friends in the fall.
Happy autumn to each of you!

Friday, November 11, 2011

I don't kill spiders.  It's not from a strict adherence to non-violence.  I kill mosquitos and the occasional gnat or centipede, I eat fish and other fleshy creatures (though it is rare and sadly with a burden of guilt, which is a gustatory downer).  I just don't kill spiders.  I talk to them.  If they are dangerous, they go outside, otherwise we live side by side in companionable tolerance.  They walk across the floor, the tub, the counter, leisurely and with an air of belonging.  Today I saw one scurry, eight legs literally racing across the kitchen rug over the cool spanish tiles, speeding toward a dark space beneath Bodhi's wooden step stool.  It was such a strange occurrence after years of spiders creeping from place to place.  This spider looked scared, though no doubt I am anthropomorphosizing. I stood for some time wondering how often I feel like that spider looked, imagining the world I inhabit dangerous, frightening and ominous.  How often do I hurry pell mell from one protected corner to the next, all the while inhabiting a benevolent universe, without a giant, fearful foot eager to squash me.  What would it be like to cease hurry, breathe and just inhabit.  There is a web unique to me, each thread new.  I carry my home and purpose with me, where ever I go.  We all do.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


My life feels grey, heavy, there is a storm just about to break, a smell of ozone, impending darkness and I am uncertain of shelter.  I find myself on the point of tears often.  I don't know if it is because my Grandmother is gone or because the sharp reality of mortal existence has finally dawned on me.  Tears roll, salty, down cheeks, blurring my vision and the world I see.  Suddenly my willingness to accept the monotony of half living, silent suffering mediocrity and deeply buried truths, seems harder to bear.  I, like a sodden dog heavily water logged with doubt, fear, thought and belief, want only the freeing sensation of a good shake- sending rivulets in all directions, until I am light again.
I miss her.  My grandma.  I miss the world she represents- warm naps in kind arms, dinners lovingly prepared without thought for what is "healthy", laughter, childhood and an unconditional love that beams from behind spectacles inches thick and bordered by grime and plastic.
I don't feel prepared for this world we live in.  I never really have.  I just keep moving forward one step at a time, with an eye on the horizon, watching for signs of rain.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

a story recently shared by a friend

 Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said,
"Richness, can you take me with you?"
Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!"
"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."
"Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder,

Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?"
"It was Time," Knowledge answered.
"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"
Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is."

I have to leave this one uncredited, as I don't know the author or if it is simply one of those stories so long in the oral tradition it needs no crediting.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

"There is no difference between the dream and the waking states except that the dream is short and the waking long. Both are the result of the mind. Our real state, called turiya (fourth), is beyond the waking, dream and sleep states."
---Ramana Maharshi
"There is only one decision you need to make: You are either working at your Freedom or you are accepting your bondage."
---Robert Adams