Arrows
Do you ever read about Tibetan Buddhist Meditation? .... Yeah, me neither. Until the last few months, that is. There's a time for all things, I guess?
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"Instead of trying to avoid our uneasiness and off-centeredness by running away, we could begin to open our hearts to the human dilemma that causes so much misery in this world. We could realize that the way to turn this devaptura 'arrow' in to a 'flower' is to open our hearts and look at how we try to escape. With enormous gentleness and clarity, we could look at how weak we are. In this way we can discover that what seems to be ugly is in fact the source of wisdom and a way for us to reconnect with our basic wisdom mind.'
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I've read this passage by Pema Chödrön very many times, and I don't have an interpretation for you exactly but I think you and I both know what it's talkin' bout, right?
Positively Waikiki
I'm a human animal in need of a vacation. And lately, my mind's been on Waikiki. I went there around this time a few years back and it was an effortless trip that kinda just stuck with me.
I'm not saying I'm gonna go again—all I'm saying is that I've been thinking about the place, about the way the pineapples tasted there—perfumey, about how the sun felt all over my skin as I lay there on my towel listening to the waves roll in, about the sunsets with the soft sweet air, and about those open air restaurants with the teak ceiling fans slowly turning—circulating the sea breeze just like they did back in the days of the Tokyo Rose.
It's nice to think about that stuff, isn't it?
Morning
Got too much shit going on to think about much right now—except for an hour or two in the morning when, on purpose, I move slowly.
I open my eyes around 8:30 am. No alarm here. I don't believe in em (unless I have an appointment, but I try not to have appointments). I splash water on my face and tell Lefty he's a handsome boy. We spend some minutes in the kitchen boiling water for coffee and scraping peanut butter on toast, then I pull up a stool and read my morning correspondance. The house is warm, the sunlight—if there is any—slanting in sideways. After about 7 minutes of computer work I get antsy, put a jacket on, and walk out the back door carrying one plastic bag, one tennis ball, and one dog rope coiled up in my hand.
I'm always happy to be outside escaping from office work. As partners, the dog and I head walking, which is much different than simply walking on your own. It's purposeful—the main purpose for both parties being looking at things and smelling what's around you. In fact, I always take the streets with the best smelling plant life—zigzagging through the neighborhood in hopes of piercing every possible cloud of blossom scent.
By, say, 10:30 I'm back inside and the calm is already fading—I'm getting kinda anxious, feeling the weights and pressures of things that need doing hanging like dark heavy clouds, and so, finally, now is when I tie on my shoes and head out to face the storm.
Partly Leaves
What a morning, eh? The kind of morning that makes you want to drink coffee out of doors and brush the shit out of your pets until big wafts of hair make cirrus clouds over your lawn.
Aaaanyway, working now, but I read the below passage recently, about how road trips can sometimes make you feel—inside a car, but all connected with everything. I'm ready for a road trip, like, now!
"I could feel the road entering me, through tire, wheel, spring, and cushion; shall I not have intelligence with earth too? Am I not partly leaves and vegetable mold myself?—a man of infinite horsepower, yet partly leaves. "—E.B. White
Soloist
Do you ever just go out to dinner by yourself? It's weird—even a little scary, but I recommend it. I ducked into this little French joint on Hawthorne and drank one glass of wine, ate one green salad followed by one savory crepe—all while turning the final pages of a book I've been reading. Eating's a good way to connect us with other peeps, but it's also nice when done alone, pondering and enjoying all the tangs, whiffs, and deep richnesses.