Fire and Ice

Minding My Mouth, Literally

2024-01-03T16:05:00.007-06:00

I’ve been thinking about right speech lately. I try to check my intention before, during and after I speak. Do I fail sometimes? Of course. And sometimes I have to learn to just shut my dang cake hole. Knowing when to be silent and listen has always been difficult for me. But don’t we all make mistakes? Have our challenges? For me, and based on what I have learned from Buddhism and my own experience, right speech has a lot to do with intention. If my intention is be loving, kind, helpful and truthful (first hand experience), then I speak it and try to have have confidence in myself. If I have already spoken or written without even one or several of these things, there is a lesson to be learned, and I try to contemplate on it to become a better person in the future. Right speech is, in my experience on my Buddhist path, one of the most difficult to practice. For me, it has been the most challenging! But what we say or write causes never-ending ripples in the pond of life and everyone is affected by it. Therefore, the practice of right speech is so worth the effort! Right speech, when continuously practiced with mindfulness throughout one’s life, can bring ourselves and others so much joy, clarity and peace!

Reflecting on this past year, 2023… it was, in a lot of ways, a really nightmarish year for my family, for me, personally, and for many of my friends and their families. But… I choose to look at things holistically because I believe if you really look carefully, honestly and fearlessly (if you have that capacity) at any really dark situation or problem, there is always some light there, too. So I choose to celebrate the good in my life today:

My beloved friends and family, including my precious fur and scale babies who are most definitely my family, the parts of my body that are still in very good health, the wealth of awareness and wisdom I have acquired about myself and others BECAUSE of conflict, challenge and loss, emotional and physical pain, the peace of mind that I have gained through my meditation, mindfulness practice and wonderful teachers and two wonderful Buddhist sanghas, my comfortable, safe home with a little bit of beautiful green space full of creatures, my ability to move about in nature and sigh in wonder, joy and gratitude for it, my ability to breathe fresh air without obstruction every day, my ability to think clearly without dysfunction (well, most of the time! 😂), my ability to read and write, which has opened doors to the entire world, my continuous access to sustenance and medical care, easy transportation and the freedom that comes with that, living in a country that protects our many other precious freedoms, the ability to hear beautiful music and see beauty which both lift my spirit so high, my sense of humor and courage to be silly, my kindness, which has been my anchor and my bedrock throughout my life and above all… my ability to see that there is no “my” or “me” since we are all connected and interdependent and can choose NOT to hurt each other but to ease each others’ suffering, join hands, and dance together in the light of LOVE!

Feel free to share this with anyone you care about… This world needs tolerance, kindness, love and peace, more than ever! And so much depends upon right speech and the practice of gratitude.

PS Thank you to the photographer (whoever it is) of this lovely horizon image. I saw it somewhere, without credits and saved it for a day just like today. If you know who took it, please let me know!

Real Phone Calls. Are they on their way to extinction?

2023-03-12T13:53:00.001-05:00

I love texting. Its very useful. But I think the over-reliance on texting and the apparent avoidance of actual phone calls has become too pronounced. And I admit it… I have been a chronic texter for some time. I am blessed with many friends, and a very tight-knit family who also seem to have a fondness for texting. Although a few of them will call me and sometimes out of the blue, which I love love love! Its just so easy to pop out a text or share a photo or silly meme. I get it. I just wish people would call more. I wish I would call more! I wish we all felt more comfortable picking up the phone and calling without reservations.

Very recently I began to call family members and friends out of the blue — meaning without the complicated preamble of scheduling a phone call meetup or “pre-texting.” So far its gone really well! A few people were so surprised, even a bit alarmed, asking if everything was okay. Some were just a little bit uncomfortable, but they were very welcoming, and I kept it short if I sensed that they were busy. I have had some wonderful, spur of the moment conversations that I might never have had. It was awesome! It was refreshing! And I hope it catches on!

Back in the “old days,” before texting, if somebody called us and we were busy, we could let it go to the answering machine (the voicemail of yesteryear) and it was no biggie… Or we could answer the phone and just say “Sorry, but I’m busy right now. Can I catch up with you later?” There didn’t even need to be a defined “later.” If the caller sounded anxious or especially disappointed, though, we might ask them how important it is and/or just stop what we’re doing to talk. What a concept! Sometimes we would ask the caller “Can I call you back in an hour?” Regardless, there was no drama involved at all. Or hurt feelings on either end. There was also mutual trust among our friends that if one person couldn’t take the other’s call, it did not reflect on our friendship. That was fabulous!

I think maybe people (except for our very closest friends or family members) have some anxiety about just “out of the blue” calling other people. I think people, including me, are afraid we are interrupting or bothering the other person by calling. Will I call them at a bad time? (So what! We used to risk that without fear and nobody died). Maybe there is a subtle fear of rejection. Maybe it’s just become so out of the ordinary, that it feels WEIRD. Does it feel weird to you? I know it does to me, but I’m still gonna keep doing it! Dammitall, back in my sales days, we called it “cold calling,” and it was the only way to go most of the time. You did it or you didn’t pay your bills that month.

Basically, I really miss the beautifully organic, wonderful surprise of hearing from a friend or family member. And calling them and having either a quick chat OR a long discussion about life in general. That lovely spontaneity was magical. So get ready! I may be calling you soon!

Feeling Hexed

2019-01-02T15:52:00.006-06:00

Do you sometimes feel like you’ve been hexed by an evil witch for the day?

This afternoon I went outside through the garage, which I never do, to salt the driveway. It's coated in a thick layer of ice from this week's rain, followed by snow. Only a quarter of the way through the job, I run out of salt. I went back inside the garage to return the salt bin and then into the house to get my car keys and purse and headed back out through the big garage door again to get into my car. The handle on the driver’s side snaps right off.

I curse like a bandit and then go in through the passenger’s side and slide over. I turn on my engine to let it heat up, then go out the driver’s side, being careful to leave it partially open. I then start to scrape the ice off my windshield. It’s a nearly impenetrable antarctic barrier, at least 1/2 inch thick.

Twenty minutes later, the ice scraping is done, though poorly, and my hands and arms are throbbing from the effort. Why did I decide that the northern climes were the perfect place to settle down? Hmmm... I question my own judgment in these times. Anyway, I head for the car door to get back into my car. However, I forget that the driveway is still also covered in ice… So I slip and fall, slamming my knees on the pavement. I roll over and lay there for a while, contemplating the sky and the universe and thinking over all the misguided deeds I am now being punished for. Finally, not finding anything justifiably evil for this kind of punishment, I get up. I might have a few bruises, but I shake it off, refusing to be deterred from my mission.

I then find that the driver’s side door has blown closed in the wind and since my car is running, it automatically locks all the doors. Of course! So I have no keys and my car is running. Then I sadly realize that my purse is also still in the car (which has my spare house keys).

I remember, gratefully, that I exited the house through the big garage door, so I use the auto door opener and limp in through the big door again. The wind is cold, so I tap the button to close the big garage door again but the sensor has been on the fritz so it will not close. Seriously? Do electronics hate me? I make an adjustment and then manually close the big door. However, I realize that the inside house door is still locked. Okay then.

I think... hey... I can call our neighbor to get our spare house keys from them! But my hopes are dashed once I look over to their yard and realize that they are not home. Oh yeah... they are away for the holiday. Yep. Par for the course.

Then I remember that we used to stash an old house key somewhere in the garage and I start looking. It is deftly hidden amid myriad nuts and bolts and wrenches and hammers and oil cans and plywood. Luckily for me, I find it, open the inside door, go inside and call the car repair shop about fixing my car door. The repair will only cost $1,000. Just kidding, luckily it’s a minor repair (under $200). But they cannot do it until Friday, and I have to leave my car there all day, and I have no ride to and from the shop. Gratefully they offer to taxi me back home at least. Good samaritans do exist. Well, they are getting 200 bucks out of it. But still, something was looking up at least. I retrieved my extra car keys from the house, returned to my car, turned off the engine and decided to call it a day.

If I can… by some slim chance, cross the brutal winter tundra that is our driveway, manage to get into my delapidated POS car and drive there without killing myself or others along the way on Friday morning, I can get the car door fixed and then go get some salt. Wish me luck that the hex has been lifted by then!

HUMAN DECENCY: IS IT A FADING PICTURE?

2017-02-12T15:53:00.002-06:00

Human Decency has been described as: Being polite, courteous, civil, thoughtful, and using tact and diplomacy when with others, thus treating them as you wish to be treated.

It doesn't seem that challenging to behave with human decency. And yet, I see exhibitions of polar opposite behavior almost every day. In fact, it seems to be a contagion that has society gripped in its jaws and is spreading its poison, bite by bite, with alarming speed. Almost every time I visit Facebook, check my text messages or use mobile apps such as Line or WhatsApp, I am confronted, or to be more precise "affronted" with crude, rude and downright insulting photo or video posts about other people. YouTube is also a frenzied outlet for this kind of image bullying.

There seems to be an insatiable appetite for derogatory photo or video posts. It's startling to me that these mean-hearted posts are being created and/or shared with such vigor. Everywhere you look, there are photos or videos of people (of celebrities, strangers or even friends) being posted followed by derogatory remarks about their bodies, either too fat or too skinny, their facial features, choices of dress, makeup (or lack of) or hairstyles. Physical appearance is superficial in that it only represents a very small fragment of an individual. There are a myriad of traits that make one person different from another, and physicality is one of the tiniest and least important among them. Would you rather spend an afternoon with a person whom you find to be physically ugly but who is an intelligent, engaging, uplifting, fascinating world traveler - or - a physically beautiful person who is boring, lifeless, negative and demeaning? I think most of us would choose the former in a heartbeat.

Yet these visuals, along with their disparaging comments, continue to populate every crevice of society via social networking and in almost every form of media. Here's an example, which I witnessed just today: A photo of actor Rosie O'Donnell was posted on someone's Facebook page. Judging from the comment with which it was posted, which literally invited his friends to laugh about it, it was clearly meant to be insulting. The photo inviting ridicule was taken from O'Donnell's own Twitter page, and though completely irrelevant in making my case that this posting reflected no human decency, was the image of a woman with a rather masculine hair and clothing style with a frown and who was wearing little or no makeup.

My first reaction was: "I don't get it. What's there to laugh at?" I then read the comments posted below it, and there was a flood of negative commentary, including comments about her wrinkles, sexual orientation, bags under her eyes and one that suggested that "blackheads" would have made it even funnier. When I see posts like this and their abusive commentary, I feel such sadness. I can well imagine how painful these insults are for the victim, O'Donnell, when she sees posts like this. It doesn't matter if the person is a celebrity or someone you know. This is wrong. And everybody knows it.

I was raised to be kind to others. And I was bullied as a child, so perhaps, I am more empathetic toward victims of bullying. I am especially disheartened and shocked when this bullying is spearheaded by someone I like and respect, as was the case in that Facebook posting.

Photos and videos of Walmart customers seem to be an especially favored subject. We've all seen a multitude of photos of overweight women and men wearing tight leggings, shorts, low-cut shirts or slippers standing at the check-out line. Somebody snaps a photo or video of them on the sly -- which, in itself, is such a gross infringement on someone's privacy -- and then proceeds to share it across the globe via YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Line, Instagram, etc., and sometimes all the above. What results is insta-pain for the person being insulted. Does anyone stop and think: What if that was my friend, my brother, my sister, me? Would I be cool with that? Most of us would answer: Most definitely not! Would I teach my children to behave that way? Again, most of us would agree that is not the kind of activity we would want our children to engage in or even comment on.

I find myself asking why bullies do it. All I can guess is its for a laugh or for attention or to gain the affection of others in attempt to make them laugh. That makes me sad for them. It could also be to raise themselves by comparison. Many of us suffer from low self-esteem, but inflicting abuse on others or about others is like a two-sided arrow. It hurts the other person, your target, as well as yourself. I have to believe that these bullies live with at least a twinge of regret or even remorse for causing another person that pain or for not behaving in a mature, kind-hearted way. And yes, it's possible that these online insults never reach the victims (subject of the photo or video), but maybe they do. Once struck, that kind of pain takes years, if not a lifetime, to recover from. Imagine how you would feel if you were publicly abased. Yes, that arrow strikes twice. In addition to that, witnesses to such insults will always wonder if they, your friends, will become a victim of your "light-hearted" abuse someday. It doesn't exactly engender trust among friends or seal a burgeoning friendship with lasting glue.

All I can hope at the end of the day is that the vast majority of us do NOT behave in this way, nor encourage others to do so by providing any attention or commentary when they see it. And in my wildest dreams, I pray that a decent fraction of society has the courage to speak out against it when they see photo/video bullying. Take a stand.

What do I plan to do, personally, about this ongoing exhibition of human indecency? Besides writing posts like this one, which calls out bullies, I intend to change my past response of saying nothing to something like this: Ugliness comes in many forms, and the most offensive is insulting others.

I admit that my blog post might offend someone. But I'm willing to take that risk for a higher purpose. And maybe part of me even hopes that I have offended some offenders with my honesty today. Maybe it will make someone think twice before they laugh and point at the next poor victim.

Parents Living in Teenage Hell

2015-07-09T18:05:00.001-05:00

Teenage hell. Although we have no children (other than our beloved fur babies), I have great empathy and respect for parents, especially those raising teenagers. I've heard about and wiped the tears created by "teenage hell." Teens think they go through this hell alone, but that nasty, hormone dense tug o' war between youth and adulthood is something the parents are also forced to endure. If you love your kid, you feel their pain, confusion and trouble as if it were your own. To make things worse, teenagers often blame the parents for all of it!

As an objective bystander, I find the whole thing really tragic. One of my closest friends and my brother is suffering in teenage hell at this very moment and have been for three or four years; the teenagers fling nasty, rude or ambivalent remarks their way on a daily basis, probably multiple times each day. The empathy I feel for them is palpable, and I cannot do anything to help. And I so want to.

I know what a parent does NOT want to hear after they vent about their bratty teenagers: "It's going to be okay. He will grow out of it. She doesn't really hate you. She loves you..."

And parents also do NOT want to get unsolicited parenting advice, especially from a childless rebel like me... "Have you ever tried this? Or that? I read an article about parenting online; I'm sure it will help you."

And worse yet -- and I'll admit I've uttered these same words in a vain attempt to comfort a friend -- venting parents definitely do NOT want to hear their friend say: "Oh, I get it completely. You know what I do when my cats misbehave? I get out the spray bottle and..." Although I must add that spraying your kids in the face with some water would at least get their attention when they are staring at you glaze-eyed, dramatically sighing, as you read them the riot act about a recent rule infraction.

So I find myself floundering uncomfortably, unsure what I should say, what will comfort my friend as she goes through this emotional rollercoaster with her teenage hellion?

The Buddhist in me says, "You don't have to say anything. Just listen with an open heart." And this does offer some solace to my friends, I think, though it is not the impactful aid I would like to offer them. So I thought, since I do my best thinking when I'm in front of a keyboard, I would attempt a blog entry on the subject. So my wonderful keyboard... let's figure this out together, shall we?

What should I say when my friends and family vent about their incorrigible teenagers? Well, step one is I have to be one hundred percent there with them, really put myself in their shoes, which means engaging with the teenager myself, if that is possible. But it also means visualizing, feeling, understanding what it's like to live in teenage hell.

How would it feel to have the person you love most in the world, your child, look at you with seething hatred, day by day? How would it feel to have your child pull away from you, grimace and cringe at your touch? How would it feel if your child could not bear to be in the same room with you, much less actually engage with you in a meaningful way? How would it feel if your child rejected your advice or ideas about almost everything, even ridiculed your mannerisms, speech, dress, behavior -- you name it -- as old-fashioned or boring or silly? How would it feel to know that your presence, especially in front of their friends, embarrasses them? How would it feel to have them forget you on Mother's Day, Father's Day, your birthday? How would it feel to have your child shrug off all your attempts to help, ignore your gestures of affection and never say thank you for the myriad things you do for them on a daily basis? How would it feel if they blamed you for everything that goes wrong? How would it feel if your child wanted nothing to do with you unless it involved spending money or some other reward or gift? How would it feel if your child said, "I hate you. I will never forgive you for this"?

The answer is it would be absolutely AWFUL. It would be heart-breaking, make you feel insecure, depressed, confused, angry, resentful, helpless, hopeless. While you have to discipline your teenagers, hold them accountable, ensure their safety, teach them to be respectful, responsible, etc., that makes the parent the bad guy, the jailor, the boss... And honestly, who wants to spend a lot of time with their jailor or their boss? It makes sense to me why a teenager might want to distance themselves from their parents.

So this relationship, between parent and teen, is doomed from the start, isn't it? At least it seems that way on the surface. I definitely do not have the answers, but I do think I can understand both sides of this slippery coin. I don't have kids, but I do have fur babies, and that's a mad, mad love, I assure you. And I am not a teenager, but in some ways, because we don't have kids, my husband and I never really grew up. So yeah, I think I can see it from both angles.

And then I put myself in the teenager's shoes. And here's where the really interesting stuff comes to light. I think: What would it be like if you felt like a grown-up but felt trapped inside a teenager's body? What would it be like to desperately crave independence but had to follow someone else's rules, day after day? What would it be like to feel like your parents didn't trust you but you kept screwing things up so couldn't earn their trust? Or maybe they were just too paralyzed with fear about your well-being that they never let you try and earn their trust? What would it be like if your body was feeling all strange, new sensations and you felt like nobody in your family really could relate to it? What would it be like if your hormones were raging so much that one minute you wanted to slam your head through a brick wall and the next minute you felt like your heart was being ripped out? What would it be like if you needed your parents' approval but were afraid you'd never get it, no matter how hard you try? What if every word out of your parents' mouths felt like daggers because you were so insecure?

What if your parents clung and pushed and prodded you to spend more time with them, and all you wanted was space and time? And what if you felt terrible guilt and shame for wanting to be alone so much and not wanting to be around your parents because often, you just feel like they are your jailors a lot of the time? And what if that guilt made you hear in every word your parents say, even more blame and resentment because that's what you think you deserve? What if you hated your parents for the gifts they give you, because you cannot believe that they actually love you and have no ulterior motives for giving you something nice?

What would it be like if you were constantly making mistakes because you were still learning almost everything? What would it feel like if you wanted to test the ground around you, even walk across a few minefields, to learn from your own mistakes but your parents are always there trying to prevent you from even trying? Giving unwanted advice? Forbidding you from doing this or doing that because they know it will hurt you? But what you want most in the world is to just DO IT and see for yourself and without hearing them say, "I told you so" right afterward.

I think being the parent of a teenager would be a very painful and difficult tight rope to walk so balance is key. I hesitate to give unsolicited advice, but I venture to guess that this balance could be attained, along with the harmony that comes with it, by gently letting the apron strings go, just a little bit, a teeny bit, and really be honest about what happens next. Is it really a tragedy if your teenager gets a D one time? Or if he has to walk home from school because he didn't tell you that he'd have to stay late for a special function? Or if you stopped picking up his/her dirty laundry to wash it and he or she had to go to school in stinky, dirty clothes every day that week or month? What would happen if you let your teenager screw up sometimes and did not rescue him or her? What if you let them have some freedom, nothing that could be life-threatening, of course, but small things, like that? Let them decide when to go to bed each night. Or let them decide whether or not to study and do homework. And if they screw up, let them face the consequences, fully, on their own. And don't tell them I told you so.

And though you want to hug them and share their innermost thoughts and protect them from everything and ensure that their lives will be healthy and educated and safe, this is their time for testing and trying and learning, sometimes through actions, sometimes through inactions. They want all those things for themselves, too, though they might not know it yet. I have an inkling (and it's just that, because like I said, I'm not a parent) that if parents refocused on their own interests and friends, living full lives, and thus, gave their teenagers as much space as they needed... BUT embraced them fully without resentment, when they returned, things might improve. And I think every teenager would return, would want a hug, would want to talk... it might not be often or as fully as the parents would like, but subtle signs of affection are the teenager's way. A teenager who stands a few feet closer or comes downstairs to sit with you on the other side of the couch might be the best they can do (for now) to say, "I love you, Mom. I love you Dad." Take that. Embrace that. It's golden. And don't be afraid to say, "I love you" to them or "I miss you and I'm always here for you, no matter what." That is golden for them.

I think teenagers are trying so hard to be tough, smart, independent, etc., that they cannot admit they need love, need help, need support... they think it's a sign of weakness when all they want to do is show you how stong and capable they are. They do need your love and support and they need it badly. But they're never ever, ever, ever, going to ask you for it. That's the crazy, heart-breaking truth of living with a teenager.

I hope this blog entry helps someone, if not my friends and family, then some stranger out there who happened upon my blog today. I bid you good luck and don't give up!! And trust yourself and your own instincts. Your love is deep and will guide you to the right path through the prickly patch of teenage hell.

But one day -- I hate to say it, but you know it's true -- they WILL grow out of it and if your arms are still open wide, they WILL run into them someday.

Note: My apologies to any parent who reads this and thinks I am clueless and condescending. I swear I have nothing but the best intentions and could be WAY off-base here. And if I am, please forgive me. I really really meant well.

Pondering On The Homeless

2015-01-06T10:41:00.003-06:00

The outside thermometer here at our house reads -3 degrees F (yesterday it was -7). As always when the temperatures dip below zero, I find myself thinking about all the homeless people who live outside without protection from this bitter cold. My thoughts took the usual train ride, which begins with me asking, "What can we do to help the homeless and, more importantly, prevent people from being homeless in the first place?"

In the past, I've come to one very unsatisfying conclusion: "People need to learn how to share more." It is unsatisfying because I know, though people can be very generous and caring, occasional charity is not the whole answer to the problem. Sure, you can hand the homeless guy a dollar or two or donate to a homeless shelter. That's wonderful, but it's not enough. It's not a preventative measure. It won't stop the homeless from streaming into every nook and cranny of the city streets in every major city in the world. It will just keep happening.

My answer to the homeless problem (the same as for any problem that causes suffering) is: 1) Slow down, breathe, relax... 2) See what is here now... 3) Wake up to what is real... 4) Respond with compassion.

To ensure the validity of it really strikes you and sinks into your bones, let me take you on the same train ride I took to get there...

I started by asking myself why people are homeless. There are one or more obvious reasons: Job loss, lack of education/training, mental illness, alcohol or drug addiction... And yes, some live in the streets by choice, but it is not likely to be the norm. How we do stop these from happening, get at the root of it so everybody can enjoy a life with their basic needs being met? It's about cause and effect.

Let's look at just one of these: Job loss. What causes people to lose their jobs? Well, businesses or organizations need to make a profit, and that's not a problem. The problem lies in the growing imbalance between greed and integrity. Employers increasingly hire the minimum number of employees to do the maximum amount of work in the shortest time frame. This means a higher likelihood of more job cuts and downsizing, fewer job opportunities and more stressed out employees. It all leads to job loss. More and more people are quitting their jobs because they are simply emotionally and physically exhausted and stressed beyond belief. Out of my small circle of friends and family, MOST of them are working more than fifty hours a week. Some of them are working sixty or more. Where is the work-life balance in that? If employers really cared about their employees even half as much as they do their profits, things would change for the better. They could act with integrity and still make a nice profit.

What about the other causes? Education and training is easily fixed. Give everyone access to a good education. Mental illness? Provide healthcare and eliminate the stigma attached to mental illness. Alcohol and drug addiction? Provide non-profit recovery centers in every neighborhood and celebrate recovery. And I can't help but wonder if even one of these is fixed, it would positively impact the others. If more of the mentally ill could find treatment, they would not depend on drugs and alcohol to cope with their illness, and they could find and keep a good job.

The atrocity of people living in urine-soaked boxes in every urban alley is perpetuated because so many of us think, speak and act without wisdom. We are deluded. We think we are not connected. But we are connected in myriad ways... by our common humanity, by our actions, by our very breath. Everyone who suffers affects us, either now or later. We cannot continue to hold tightly to our habitual way of life, our hyper-indulgent lifestyles, buying yet another device or entertainment, driving fuel-hungry vehicles, expecting more and more, living with a sense of entitlement instead of gratitude and kindness.

We all need to start by slowing down, stop rushing because it is what someone else expects you to do or because it is your habit. Stop taking on so much that you need to rush. Simplify your life and you CAN slow down. Then look and SEE what is around you, who is around you. Stop being a blind pleasure seeker and find freedom and peace of mind. The moment you see the natural, perfect beauty of life and also respond to the needs of those around you, you will no longer be bored or without purpose, reaching for more and more temporary pleasures to fill you up. Living an ethical, compassionate life is all you need to be happy! It gives back to you more joy than you can imagine. And best of all, it is contagious. Kindness begets kindness. Calm begets calm. Awareness begets awareness. Wisdom begets wisdom.

Open up your eyes! See who you really are. See the world as it is. Educate yourself. Wake up! We are all connected. If we want paradise on earth, we cannot continue to act as we have been. And we cannot continue to walk right past a homeless man or woman bent over against a brick wall. We have to stop, really look at this person and more importantly, respond in a helpful way as you would if it was your own brother or sister. In absolute reality, it IS your brother or sister.

Cultivating the Heart State

2014-12-16T13:27:00.003-06:00

Today I asked myself an important question, one I have been asking almost daily for the past year: Why is there so much suffering in the world? Suffering is an epidemic today and society doesn't show any signs of recovery. My practice of Buddhism explains how the ignorance of reality leads to suffering, and to awaken and find contentment and peace, one needs to meditate, practice mindfulness and understand the reality of cause and effect. But I wanted to see it in simpler terms, one that even a layperson, without any knowledge of Buddhist Psychology, could understand. So I started by asking myself, since it is the "heart" that suffers, what is the heart?

In reality, the heart is just another organ in the body, a mass of tissue flowing with blood, much like the pancreas or the liver. It keeps us alive through an intricate cycle of electricity and pumping valves. But when we make statements like, "my heart is breaking" and "open your heart" and "home is where the heart is" and "he has a heart of gold," we are strictly using a symbolic term. We know this, and yet it feels so real, so physical when we experience euphoria or intense grief, often with an accompanying physical sensation. That sensation is throbbing or heavy or empty or painful and often resonates in the region of the chest. It stands to reason that we might believe that this is where the physical and the symbolic "heart" live.

But the symbolic "heart" is really not a place or a thing. It is a state of being. And I believe that we are all born with an equal capacity to live in that beautiful and natural state on a never-ending daily basis. I do not believe that mental illness or traumatic experiences or anything can keep us from this state of being once we know it is already here for us in this very moment, simply because we are alive. We achieve the "state of heart" after we let go of what was or what will be and embrace this moment with gratitude. We achieve the heart state when we take a deep breath and then drop our facades and fear of someone actually seeing our true selves. We achieve the heart state when we trust that we are enough, right now, just as we are, perfectly imperfect. There is no better way to be than right at this moment, however we are.

Cultivating the heart state means opening fully, becoming truly vulnerable. A wonderful, natural side effect of the heart state is compassion and lovingkindness and the ability to continuously stay in that openness even in the face of another person's suffering. Learning to stay in the face of someone's suffering and be there with them throughout, is a wise and courageous decision because it unravels years and perhaps lifetimes of bad karma (if you believe in that). That leads to more joy in this life and the next.

Cultivating the heart state means seeing that nobody is alone or separate but one with everything and everybody else. We are no more different or independent than an apple is independent of the farmer or the soil or the rain or the sunlight that conditioned its existence. In fact, what elements make us also make the apple. There is nothing on this earth or in the universe, which is composed of unique ingredients! We are an interdependent web of life. When we look into the eyes of the another human being, we know this is true. We feel it and yet so many of us pretend that is not true, that somehow our lives are different, special, superior or inferior. We constantly compare ourselves to each other, longing to create a persona that is uniquely our own. Why? What are we afraid of? What is it that we are trying so desperately to cling to by setting ourselves a part? Thinking we are or could be separate from others, in terms of ultimate reality, is as deluded as comparing your own face to the reflection in your mirror. Once we see this is true, gratitude and love naturally arise in us.

Cultivating the heart state doesn't mean always being happy or never feeling sad or angry or worried. It means not holding onto or running from or pushing away any of it. It means accepting all of it as part of life, the inevitable pendulum swinging back and forth, from good to bad, from happy to sad, from pleasure to displeasure. We are human beings and will always, as long as we are alive, feel pleasant or unpleasant feelings. It is what it means to be sentient. Our bodies/minds perceive, then generate thoughts, sometimes associated with memory, and then accompanying feelings. But we can decide whether to "react negatively" or "respond positively," whether to resist or accept... and if we accept, we can learn to let go of whatever comes naturally. Everything changes, and everything comes and goes, whether it is something we want or do not want.

Cultivating the heart state means no longer suppressing what makes life truly wonderful: Our desire to love and be loved unconditionally.

Cultivating Right Speech

2014-08-28T10:49:00.004-05:00

I am a passionate being and love, love, love to talk. In fact, my passion is what makes me a good writer. I always have something to say! But this chat-ability has a darker side: When I am having a conversation, and am especially impassioned about a topic, I fail to take turns speaking, and often interrupt others when they are speaking. Sometimes it's with a short-lived interjection of "Oh - yes!" or "That's true!" And sometimes it's an outright and lengthy diatribe of my own that spews out like molten lava from my lips. Even when I'm aware that this about to happen, I can't seem to control myself. Watch out, everyone! She's going to blow!

I also habitually bring the attention back to my own life, how I feel, what I think. I recently heard this termed as, "self-referential talk." Yep, that's what I do, as innocent and well-meaning as it seems at the time. The end result is hurt. I know how much this hurts my co-conversationalist as it has happened to me, too. I never want to be the cause of someone's pain. There is enough pain in the world without me adding more into the mix. I want to be what one spiritual leader called "safe for others."

And I am an impulsive blurter. I rush ahead in an effort to "share" and do not always think before I speak. Just the other day, I am almost certain I offended someone by blurting. I was not well-acquainted with this person nor could I remember their name, but I knew their spouse. So I blurted, "Oh, you are John's wife, right?" In that comment, I discounted her existence as a separate and unique being. Use your filter, I said to myself, and made an extra effort to get to know her the rest of the afternoon.

So how does a capricious chatterbox learn to overcome these unskillful communication habits? Well, up until now, I have read umpteen self-help books on the topic of better communication, even took an Inter-personal Communications class at the local community college. I've approached it from all angles of psychology, thinking that if I could get at the root, the motivation behind my chronic interruptions and overall egocentric listening and speaking habits, I could become an excellent communicator. But nothing, up until now, has really offered a practical guide for me to follow.

What has helped is all aspects of Buddhism, and especially Right Speech. This is one of the aspects of the Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism. I've been studying and practicing Buddhism for about a year now, and it has been one blissful revelation after another. Meditation and Mindfulness and all aspects of Buddhism have helped me become more serene, more compassionate and most importantly, more awake. Recently, I began to really focus on Right Speech, finding some very helpful, practical advice from the writings and Dharma talks of several Buddhist teachers, most notably, Donald Rothburg and Joseph Goldstein. I've been listening to pre-recorded Dharma talks via this awesome, free website called Dharma Seed (the site offers talks conducted at numerous Buddhist retreat centers).

Today is my first day of focused Right Speech practice. For the first week, I am implementing just two of six simple guidelines that Rothburg suggested. I am about to share them all with you here, because I truly believe we all could be better communicators. Note that communication is not just speaking but listening. This is where many of us need practice. Being better listeners. One of my books on Buddhism suggested if you want to talk to someone, ask them a question and then listen. I like that. When I think about all the wars that could have been prevented, the murders, the divorces, etc., had we been better, more compassionate communicators, it is truly crazy that this subject isn't taught at every level of education, right alongside Math, English and Science.

Our words have power. We can unite or divide, help or harm, inspire or discourage. Our words can be the first sentence of someone's sad story. Or they can be their first ray of sun.

Here are the six guidelines of Right Speech:

1) Be Present.

2) Pause more frequently.

3) Be truthful.

4) Be helpful.

5) Be compassionate (good heart).

6) Be appropriate and timely.

As we practice and become more self-aware (mindfulness comes in handy here) of our own communication style, we should regularly refer back to number three, to "be truthful." We need to be HONEST with ourselves about all six guidelines. Are we really being present? Are we really being truthful? Are we really being helpful? Everyone likely needs to polish up on one or more of these guidelines, perhaps all six.

Two other facets of Right Speech are "No Gossip" and "No Useless Talk," which Goldstein discusses in great detail in one of his Dharma talks.

"No Gossip" is one that is especially challenging because it does not mean only speaking negatively about another. No gossip means not speaking of another who is not present, period. Just try for one day not to speak of another person who is not present nor to engage in this type of conversation brought up by someone else. It's not that easy. And yes, this can be necessary in some situations in the real world. But it is something we can be aware of, limit our frequency and watch our intention when we do it. We can be careful we do not gossip out of boredom or ill will, however subtle, and ask ourselves -- are the six guidelines still being addressed as I speak, as I listen?

"No Useless Talk" refers to "small talk" that has no other purpose than to pass the time or to fill in the uncomfortable gaps in conversation (we all do it!) is not considered skillful or right speech. Though the Buddha offered the guideline of "no useless talk" mostly to monastic members, vs. lay people like us, we can all be more mindful of this tendency and use restraint the next time we are tempted to comment about the weather.

I wish you all wonderful communications, today and always.

http://buddhasadvice.wordpress.com/speech/

http://donaldrothberg.com

http://www.dharma.org/joseph-goldstein

We Call Ourselves Animal Lovers

2014-08-11T10:28:00.002-05:00

We call ourselves animal lovers. And I see lots of folks who really are. I am impressed and filled with joy when I see the compassion and generosity that many people have for animals. But why do people adopt animals and then subject them to cruel and painful procedures that take away the very traits that make them what they are? I think it's mostly out of ignorance.

Dogs are devocalized. Cats are declawed. Birds get their wings clipped. And so much more. Many people still get their pets' tails and ears lopped off because it makes them "more attractive." How about this? If you don't want THOSE traits, don't adopt THOSE animals. Adopt another type of animal or wait until a better time to adopt. At the very least, become objectively informed about the true nature of these procedures so you can make a compassionate decision.

Dogs bark. Cats scratch. Birds fly. This is the reality we have NO right to change!

I aim this angry diatribe toward myself, as well as to others who do it. I had one cat declawed back in 1994, back when very few veterinarians had any qualms about performing such procedures. This was one of the most abominable things I have ever done. And I have terrible regrets about it still. I always will.

So why did I have my cat declawed? It is no excuse -- nor does it even partially absolve me of any bad karma -- but to help you understand my motivation, I will tell you why: I did it because I was selfish and desperate for love. My marriage was on the rocks. And I had always wanted a cat. But my husband at that time, who was depressed and distant, was vehemently opposed to owning a pet and was afraid that the cat would tear up our apartment. He was very angry with me for bringing this cat home without talking to him about it first. He insisted that I have this surgery done and convinced me that it was harmless (though deep inside I knew better). We argued for many weeks about this before I finally caved in.

A wonderful thing happened many years later, however. My ex-husband is now dead set against declawing and I know he regrets it too. And he loved that cat so much that he begged me to let him keep it when we decided to get a divorce. I knew that I had turned him around for life. He even became a vegetarian!

Everybody suffers, and we all make mistakes. But truly, I think I will pay for that evil deed one day, either in this life or the next. The damage it does to your heart and to the poor cat is immeasurable.

Cat declawing is a tremendously painful and crippling procedure and should not be done under any circumstances. I feel the same way about any unnecessary and painful surgical alteration done to our animals. There is simply no excuse to slice, bob, clip and amputate bodily parts from our supposedly "beloved pets." There is no moral justification to do it.

It's been twenty years now, and I have matured, become more compassionate and am in a loving relationship with my darling husband, David. We have had four cats and none of them were declawed or ever will be. It is a beautiful thing to see our cats stretching up to clean their talons on the scratching post (we have four posts distributed throughout the house). Our cats do fine in our house and are very happy, as are we. There are many ways to train a cat not to damage your home.

And I know there are many ways to train a dog not to bark 24/7. And who decided that a Cocker Spaniel does NOT look cute with long tails? Or a Doberman does NOT look cute with floppy ears? And is cuteness really a justifiable reason for mutilation? Really? I am not sure about birds, but my guess is there are some tricks to keep them from flying out the window (window screens for one).

Please do yourselves and your animals a favor and become informed about these completely unnecessary procedures.

Watch "The Paw Project" movie (on YouTube) all about the reality of cat declawing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNspYhNeHhU

http://www.peta.org/living/companion-animals/8-reasons-never-declaw-cats/

http://www.cesarsway.com/news/dognews/Freedom-of-Bark

http://www.peta.org/issues/companion-animal-issues/cruel-practices/feather-clipping/

https://www.avma.org/KB/Policies/Pages/Ear-Cropping-and-Tail-Docking-of-Dogs.aspx

Guilt

2014-07-22T13:03:00.002-05:00

This morning, I was thinking about cards I need to send. It made me think about one particular person back home whom I need to send a card in the next few days. And every time I think of this person, the feeling of guilt sits on my shoulders just around the edges. That guilt comes from many years of conscious but mostly unconscious wrongs done to her. I was a selfish person growing up, as we mostly all are. Throughout the years this person regularly brings up these deeds to me and to others. She does it with laughter and a little wink. But I always feel that there is some hidden unresolved pain, some resentment toward me for these things I did.

I apologized for each and every one at the time and I've apologized many times over throughout the years but still she brings these incidents up. You know how it is, when someone says something to you under the guise of comedy, but you tell yourself now they are really serious deep inside it really bothers them. This is what I told myself about this situation for years. Each time the occurrences are brought up, to me or to others, I feel an immense guilt wash over me and sadness that she has still not forgiven me. Since then, I have done many wonderful things out of love and concern for her. But still these things are not enough for her to wash away my terrible deeds, None of which, mind you, are truly terrible, just ignorant or selfish or unthinking. Inconveniences and blind mistakes made by youth.

But this morning it occurred to me to ask the question that Buddhism has taught me to ask whenever we feel the pinch of pain of guilt of anger of sorrow of regret… I asked myself, ”Are you sure?” In other words: Am I sure that the reason she brings these things up repetitively is because she is still angry and resentful? Perhaps there is another reason. I thought it through and quickly came up with a possible reason. She may be saying these things truly and sincerely out of a desire to make light of something we have in common. There may be no maliciousness connected to it whatsoever. She may have forgiven me completely and is simply making a joke about something we both experienced, something that truly is funny to her now that we look back on the event. I even laugh with her often when she brings these things up, but still that part of me, deep within me, feels that old guilt stabbing my heart.

So what if this means nothing to her, more than mirthful reminiscing? If that is true, then my guilt is brought on by myself. In other words, I have the ability to completely resolve this. I can do it all on my own, now. It may be that her resentment is resolved and yet my guilt is not resolved. It is an interesting concept. And something I will truly try and let go of. And the next time she brings it up, I will laugh with sincerity and hopefully never feel the pang of guilt again. We have come so far in our relationship and any lingering hurt or guilt I may be feeling is misplaced and unproductive for either of us. It is something that stands between us which only I can remove.

It made me think about guilt in general. From Buddhism, I have learned that guilt is an important aspect of life. It keeps us moral and responsible. It makes us better people. Too often, we fear guilt so much that we run from it, we bury our heads and hide from it, do anything we can including lash out at others to avoid feeling that stab. But guilt is important to feel in the moment. That is the important and significant difference. When Sri Sri Ravi Shankar says “feel the pinch,” he means feel guilt in the moment. Let yourself know that you have done something wrong and do not run from it. It will help you do better next time but then, once you have seen it for the lesson that it is and done whatever you can to apologize or improve your behavior in the future, you must let it go. Dwelling on it, or letting it repeatedly hurt you is completely unproductive and actually harmful for you and others.

One of the worst sources of guilt for me, and one that is the most difficult to resolve, is the inability to help someone I love. There have been times, especially of late, that I cannot physically help anyone else. I see people whom I love working on large difficult projects and I can do nothing to help. Also geographically, I am far from the ones I love and cannot help them for this reason as well. I do everything I can from a distance and with the debilitated limitations I have. But it never feels like it is enough.

It took me many many months, but eventually, I was able to forgive myself. I realized that there was nothing I could do about the situation. And I learned that I had to let it go or it would eat me alive. But I am sad. I see so many others around me unable to let go of their guilt. But I am empowered by the thought that I can help them. I still have my mind, my heart, my skills at writing and speaking and I can help the ones I love when they feel guilt. That unresolved type of guilt has no purpose. I have felt guilt. We all have felt guilt and sometimes people have difficulty getting past it, digging out of the clinging nasty muck of unresolved guilt.

I hope that anyone reading this today will be able to stop when they're done and look at themselves and think about what is pinching them. Ask yourselves how long has this been pinching me? Isn't it time to let it go? To be free of it at last? And then ask yourself, Am I sure? It may lead you to discover the true nature of your guilt or any type of hurt so you can be free of it forever.

When you ask yourself am I sure? This calls upon you to truly think honestly and clearly about all possible explanations. How often have we looked at someone and thought to ourselves “I know what she or he is thinking. I know it. I can just tell.” But how can we really tell what someone else is thinking? We cannot. The simple truth, the only reality, is that we never know what drives someone else's behavior. We can never know what is in their minds or hearts. If we ask ourselves are we sure? It can remind us that this is true. And we can either let it go, which is the most wise choice, or we can at least be honest and provide every other explanation. Even the most incredible, crazy explanations could be true. If we give everyone else the benefit of the doubt, assume that their words are true, and then proceed with love, sincerity and concern for ourselves and them, the world will be truly beautiful and joyous.

Confidence and Humility

2014-06-27T12:19:00.006-05:00

Confidence and humility are good neighbors. I believe confidence is a good trait to have, but confidence must be present in equal measure to humility or it quickly explodes into arrogance, however subtle. Confidence is about not trying to be different or better, feeling 100% honest about and secure in who you are and knowing you are "enough." Humility is the trait that reminds us we are all in the same boat, that we don't need to be in the limelight and can even help others shine because it brings us genuine pleasure. It's our reminder to reel it in, take a deep breath, wait before you speak, especially about your own accomplishments, experiences or abilities.

I've been confident most of life, at least since I emerged from my cocoon of adolescent "dork-hood." But humility? I'm not sure. Certainly I've been humble at times, but the ever-present trait was confidence, sometimes bordering on arrogance. As I grew up and entered my chosen career, I think I bowed down to the pressures of competition in the workplace, and I became more rigid and stressed, always showing my best side, straining to prove myself so I got the job, the promotion, the pay raise, etc.

Since I left the "rat race" and began to work from home (although currently on a hiatus from work due to a back and hip injury), there is much less pressure. There are fewer reasons to try and impress and fewer people in my day-to-day life that I perceive are in need of impressing. But it's still challenging to let the impressions of others develop organically. Even now in my much simpler lifestyle, I find myself trying to show off my good side, although in the most subtle ways. And being more mindful these days, I see this and laugh at myself. I ask myself, "Why am I doing (this or) that?"

Humility is a character trait that I would like to foster within myself. It's a character trait which I admire most in others, far more than any other. One of the reasons I married my husband is because he is humble. He had a refreshing light around his heart that attracted me. That light was humility in its purest form. And though he is confident, he is willing to wait for people to discover his value, rather than foist it upon them. It's really a beautiful thing.

I look around me and see so many frustrated, stressed out people trying to prove themselves in any given moment with any given person. Trying to be more than what they are, trying to prove themselves, be better, seem better. Trying to prove themselves to their parents, their children, their siblings, their nieces and nephews, their aunts and uncles, their friends, their coworkers, their employers, their neighbors… why is it so important to us to be thought of as competent? Smart? Interesting? Talented? Funny? Brave? Capable? Generous? Friendly? Practical? And the list goes on and on.

We may be smart in one moment and completely stupid in the next. We may possess talents toward one endeavor and lack them completely in another. We may be interesting or funny in one instance and completely boring in the next. Or interesting or funny to one person and make another person fall asleep from disinterest. And that is okay. We are not perfect. We are flawed because we are alive.

It seems to me that we are all so exhausted from trying so hard to be someone that we are not. Why can't we all let our guards down, feel like we are finally enough? Let people see us for who we are, flaws and idiosyncrasies and all? I think the world would be more joyous if this were the way we lived.

From this day forward, I am dropping my pretend mantle of perfection. And the next time someone asks me a question that I don't know the answer to, I will without hesitation say, "I have no clue!" I may even laugh at my own ignorance. I may let someone come into my dirty house and not apologize for the mess. I may listen without interruption to the friend who rambles on and on, simply because she needs to be heard. I may even let someone arrogant and controlling have the final word, knowing they need that triumph more than me. I may smile and nod at the next person who cuts in front of me at the grocery store. I may apologize and assume I miscommunicated the next time someone misunderstands me, rather than get angry that they weren't listening or don't care or all the other silly conclusions we immediately jump to when people don't "get us." I may keep my mouth shut the next time someone compliments my husband on something I did myself. I may remain peacefully silent the next time someone writes Carrie Gunn on an envelope (thinking I changed my name when we married). In retrospect, it's all so self-important, isn't it? In the grand scheme of things, does any of this really matter? Will these more positive, humble reactions to things change the course of my life or affect my livelihood? NO! In fact, they may add years of bliss to my life.

I am going to make an effort to be a model of humility for others to follow. But even if no one notices, that is okay. Because their praise or acknowledgment is not why I choose to live this way from this day forward. My reason for practicing more humility is this: FREEDOM. I am flawed, world! See me for who I am. I have nothing to prove to you, nothing to prove to anyone or even to myself. I am enough. I am exactly as I should be. And letting go of all my fears, and all my desires to control and grasp and make a good impression on others will give me an absolute freedom and with that, absolute JOY.

Joy!!

MORE HUMAN CONNECTIONS NEEDED!

2014-06-02T19:38:00.005-05:00

My heart is breaking. Seriously, my chest is physically aching.

Two Preteen Girls Stab 12-year-old 19 times in Planned Murder Plot

There it is. Another terrible news story about violence, this time committed by two twelve-year-old girls in Waukesha, WI, a city David and I once called home. Their schoolmate, another twelve-year-old girl, was lured into a wooded area and brutally stabbed multiple times in an attempt to KILL HER. The victim very nearly died but is now recovering in the hospital. Why did this happen? Why did these young girls do this? Oh, apparently it was in response to a challenge made by a fictitious character on a website.

What is happening in our society? Every week I hear another gruesome story like this, sometimes multiple deaths, and so often very young people are holding the murder weapons. It's bad enough when I hear an adult doing something so atrocious, but when it's someone young I have to wonder -- what happened to the innocent youths of yesterday? Childhood is supposed to be carefree and fun and even a little bit gullible, isn't it? Our parents were there to watch out for us; they could worry about the bad guys while we played in the sandbox.

I truly believe that our disconnected and self-centered society is at least partly to blame. It seems our young children are footing the bill for the wonderful convenience of modern communication. Facebook and Twitter and email and internet are all excellent, sometimes convenient communication tools (I'm using it now), but I hear far too many stories of young people AND adults abusing technology, being "plugged in" 24/7, okay, maybe 16/7 to allow for sleep, but that's still too many hours to be plugged in! And "selfies," obsessively posted every three seconds, are only one example of how superficial and self-centered our society is becoming.

What are we losing by building this kind of society, its heart frozen under voluminous layers and layers of pixels and high-speed data? Everything! Indeed, the very characteristics which make us human! Compassion, patience, love, loyalty, effort, sincerity... those traits have virtually disappeared from our conversations because they cannot be fully exhibited in a few typed out words on a monitor. They have to be FELT in an embrace, HEARD in a friend's heartbeat, TASTED in someone's tears.

We need more REAL human connections every day, real face-to-face meetings, real hugs, real smiles (vs. smiley icons flashing on our screens). Please... everyone think about this.

Why not pick a day this week and make it your unplugged day?

Even if it's just this one week. Do it. If you are a parent, take your kids' phones and computers for one day, and give them plenty of love and heart-to-heart chats in place of those gadgets. If you are an employer, set up Email-Free Fridays or have an "Unplugged Employee Picnic" and/or let your employees go home an hour early one day this week and tell them it's for REAL face-to-face family bonding time. Everyone can do their part! We can all lead by example. We can all be unplugged more of the time. It's a change, but we will discover something far more valuable in its place, real human connection. The next time you have the urge to "message," "text" or "email" someone, can't you go see them instead or at the very least - make the effort and pick up the phone so you can hear their voice, share their life, breath by breath?

We can do this!! We all have the power to change our world for the better. Please, please, please WAKE UP WORLD!

If you agree, I beg you to share this, print it out and hand it to someone you love or better yet, a stranger. Or if you're still plugged in, repost it with or without your own comments on your FB page and then do something even more meaningful by actually LIVING it from this day forward. Go talk to someone face-to-face. Give them a hug. Give them part of yourself in a real human connection.

I love this video, "Look Up, posted on YouTube. Really sums things up nicely for me...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7dLU6fk9QY

Letting Go More and More

2014-03-31T15:41:00.002-05:00

Today is a really good day. Some time ago I realized it was time to let go. It was around the time that I first began to study Buddhism. I began to let go of the illusions, see life as it really was, accept my pain and current disability and all the anger that went along with it. I began to feel FREE. At that time, I didn't think I could let go any more but today I proved myself wrong. Today I am letting go completely.

I am writing this to to carve into stone in a sense for as things change, I may lose my way again and need reminded. I am also writing this to tell my friends who follow me here so that when you see changes in me or notice that I speak differently about this injury or my current life, you do not think I'm giving up. I am not giving up on life, quite the opposite really. I am fully embracing it for the first time in years. Not just a superficial level, but on a deeper level and with complete awareness. It is wonderful!

What I am letting go of is this race I seem to have been on. I am stopping. I am not rushing ahead or even gazing ahead with expectation toward some elusive and imaginary finish line. There is nothing for me to complete, no one to fix. I am letting go of the illusion that I have any control over this injury or my life. That is simply not reality.

All I can do, need to do, is stop... let go. And most importantly, be happy and grateful for today. I realize that my sole purpose today is NOT to get well or to regain my former life. My purpose (and everyone's purpose) is to be happy. And I can only be happy if I let go.

I think due to habits and our society, I have viewed this time in my life as a fight. And everyone around me has been rallying to my side, like my own personal cheering section. The love and encouragement I have felt throughout this recovery process has been immense, and it is partly what helped me get this far. For that, I thank you!! Perhaps early on, I needed to fight. I am not sure. But I do know that today, fighting is the last thing I should be doing. Only time and rest will heal my wounds.

This is not time to fight. It is time to stop and breathe. The back and hip injury I experienced in August 2012 is simply cause and effect. It is nature. From the moment we are born, we begin to die. And nothing stays the same. We are always changing and aging. We feel pain and we feel joy. But as someone once said, pain is inevitable, but suffering is not. Oh my gosh... I have been suffering for far too long. And I thought I had all the pieces to the puzzle a few months ago. I realized today that a big piece was missing. That piece is how I speak and think about my current life. I was DOING all the right things. But still inside and with everyone I interacted with, I was looking ahead, wanting to fix myself, forgetting that in the meantime I am wasting TODAY. In Buddhism, how we behave is important. But just as important, in fact, in some ways MORE important, is our intention. It is at the basis of how we think, speak and act.

From this day forward, I hope to let go in more than my actions, but in my thoughts and in my conversations. This will be new to many of you. So please know it comes from a good place. A place of self-nurturing, where I need to be now. And help me let go. Help me just be here now.

I will continue to make wise choices for my health. I will continue to stay active, meditate, eat healthy foods, sleep... And my body will heal in it's own time. Meanwhile, the big change will be how I perceive my life now and how I speak of it with my loved ones. I do not want anything more than I have at this moment. I have been given a precious allotment of time while my body heals. And with it, I am enjoying a path of discovery.

Too often over the past year and a half, I have heard the question, "Are you writing?" I have also asked myself the question, "when will I write again?" And today, honestly, I am no longer interested in the answer. Honestly. I may never write a single story again. That is the reality. And I'm able to accept it without regret. I also make no excuses. I have tried and it has been an uphill battle, only causing me more pain and more disability. I may write again in a year or two. But for the near future, it is not likely.

What I have been given is precious and wonderful. Time. Wisdom. Enlightenment. I am happy. I am whole.

How could I ask any more of this moment? And even if I could ask for more, it would be pointless. I believe that this time can be useful. It is a time for me to meditate and develop wisdom and listen. Listen not only to my own heart and soul but to the world around me and realize how connected we all are. I know this yet I am still really beginning to feel it.

Something else occurred to me today. Perhaps this is not a time for me to write. Perhaps this is not time for me to engage at all, especially with the daily or hourly fervor that I once did, constantly writing or speaking every thought, every dream. No. I believe this is my time to stop and listen and just BE. And with this time I can grow wisdom and eventually, I hope, give back to the world. It may be with my writing or it may be via some other vehicle. I am excited about the prospect of doing that, giving, helping, nurturing someone else.

So, my friends... I have not given up. I intend to enjoy this time in my life to the fullest, and to not spend another moment regretting or wishing for more or different.

All I ask of you is that when you see me, try not to see something that is broken and needs to be fixed. I know some of you may want to offer suggestions as to how I can be repaired. But I assure you I am full, complete and perfect just the way I am today. I am in the place I need to be, living the life I need to live in this moment. I want to speak of other things. Please talk to me of flowers, of cats, of love, of courage, of freedom, of the environment, of music, of art!

For the moment, I cannot sit and I cannot drive. This continued injury and pain still limits me in my ability to spend real time with you all. But I can be with you in other ways (phone, email, video chats, letters)... We are truly blessed with so many ways to connect with our loved ones. And these ways have to be enough for now. I know we will be together again someday when the time is right.

In the meantime, know that I am very happy and well and wish the same for all of you.

It's Simple

2013-11-04T11:23:00.003-06:00

I've noticed that the world is primarily composed of two kinds of people: Blamers/Complainers (let's call them the "Venters") and the Cheerful Optimists (the "Smilers"). When I say venting, I mean perpetual, habitual venting. This habit of loathing and lashing out can be quite toxic to everyone and does no one any real good. To maintain their sunny dispositions and peace of mind, "Smilers" occasionally feel the need to avoid or limit their exposure to "Venters" and all that negative energy. I have observed and experienced a feeding frenzy of "Venter" upon "Smiler," and I believe it doesn't do either party any good. The "Venter" steps away, feeling either more agitated or only temporarily pacified. The anger resurfaces a short time later with a repeated need to vent.

The "Smiler" escapes to their sanctuary, falling onto their bed in utter exhaustion. They've been tapped and drained like a spring time Maple tree. I think it's a co-dependent relationship. I really do. At some point, for each person's mental health and development, either the "Venter" has to stop or the "Smiler" has to stop listening.

It is for the angry, resentful "Venter" that I write this blog entry today, not for the kindly person who occasionally and under extremely stressful or critical circumstances turns to another for guidance, nor is this blog entry for those suffering great loss or at some traumatic crossroads and desperately in need of a hug, a kind word, a listening board for our sorrow. It's the angry venter, the blaming venter that causes more harm than good, and that's the kind of behavior I'm talking about.

The anger is the big difference here. Angry venting helps no one. I'm pretty darn sure of this because I was an angry "Venter" once. And on occasion that lesser part of me still peeks around the curtain of my soul, threatening my peace of mind with a sinister sneer on its face, eager to blame and scream. Blaming and complaining to others became so habitual I didn't even realize I was doing it until it was over, and then I never felt any satisfaction. In fact, I inevitably felt guilty and remorseful for spitting poison like a viper in the presence of someone I loved and respected. Still, I did it again and again, as a knee-jerk reaction to life's perceived troubles. Mostly everyone else was venting, using popular catch phrases, like "shit happens." Once, that was a joke, but people, including me, rarely laughed when they said it any more. So why was I venting if it didn't help me feel any better?

Luckily for me, the inescapable cause and effect and natural impermanence of life was at work, and I suffered a major physical injury. I told myself, oh so dramatically, that I had "lost everything!" I found myself falling faster and faster, deeper and deeper into a depressing tailspin. I was heading for nothing but darkness and misery. I had to make a decision, one that I believe has changed my life. I chose to be happy. And then, lo and behold... I was happy. It was and is that simple, folks.

You can choose to be happy or you can choose to be miserable.

Yeah, "bad" stuff is going to happen. But once you really look at each change or event closely, isn't "bad" really open to interpretation, based on one's determined perception? Some Buddhist masters say there is no problem unless you view it as a problem. I agree with this completely. Even people facing the worst crisis, such as terminal illness, have testified to experiencing a self-discovery and contentment with a renewed zeal for life.

When we face trouble or obstacles, illness or injury, we can make a choice to face each one with grace, to appreciate the experience for whatever it offers, whether it's a lesson or a new perspective that brings us closer to others. We can choose to keep our minds open and to feel gratitude for life, to see the positive side to any situation, to see the good in all people and be happy! We can live today in this very moment, no matter what it is.

Or you can choose to be miserable by complaining and moaning and regretting and wishing for more or for different. Interestingly, some"Venters" gravitate toward other "Venters," seeking a sense of camaraderie. It's then about taking turns, one day one person vents, the next day the other one vents. Even if one person wanted to stop venting, learns a better way to cope, they may feel responsible for listening to their friend's venting because their friend listened to theirs once. It's a never-ending cycle of negativity, unfortunately, and not productive for either. This is common, and I believe that's because no one realizes this dynamic has developed between them.

When "Venters" find a non-Venter, who has a blissful spirit, they either vent or habitually focus on the negative aspects of that other person's life, and encourage venting. In other words, they love venting and truly believe it is a therapeutic practice (I thought so once, too), whether they are venting or being vented to. It's strange, but true. I think this is because they need to feel needed. All potential trouble appears like a blip on their radar, and once found, they can fix you or offer solutions.

I try to avoid labels so let me clarify that there are myriad personalities in this human world, and we all undergo changes throughout our lives. My reason for these labels here are to simplify for the sake of this blog entry only. I won't use them again. What is more -- most of us could be venters or vent-ees or great listeners or terrible listeners or optimists or pessimists from one week to the next. In general, we are all human beings with flaws and negative, as well as positive tendencies, especially when life throws us curve balls. But we can make a choice to be happy. And I know a big part of that is deciding to focus on yesterday, in the future or right now.

I think the reason so many people complain and vent and blame is because they need to identify or label every event as either good or bad. That's the first mistake. It's their way of setting things in order, an attempt to make "sense" of things. And of course, they want the problem to stop or go away as soon as possible. Finally, they search desperately to identify the cause so they can prevent it from ever happening again. But we can't control the universe. It can't be done.

Let's face it: Shit does happen. But that's what makes life so great! That's the zest, the spice, the mystery that keeps us in awe. We can view "trouble" as the natural product of the ebb and flow of life or call it "bad luck." We can accept it and go with the flow or we can scream and bitch at everyone around us until it's over. Meanwhile, the "now" still exists. Will that "now" be fun?

I truly believe the best thing we can each do is accept the chaotic, unpredictable nature of life. In time, we can even celebrate it and embrace its constant change. Everything has a hidden treasure if you look closely enough. The Taoists believed this, and I think they were spot on.

Most of all, I think we can stop focusing on ourselves, especially during rough times, and instead, take a deep breath, smile and say, "Thank you for today. Today I am alive."

Life is a beautiful, precious gift. Isn't that enough? Isn't that more than enough? I tell you it is. Be happy! Celebrate being alive each and every day. Smile more. Dance more. Laugh more. Stay awake for the ride. And yes, be there for each other. Trust a friend with your pain and offer your shoulder for them when they collapse, then help them up again with positive words of cheer.

Loving each other is the greatest gift we can give to the world. But I think it's important to be mindful enough to ask yourself if those tears you are crying are bitter, resentful angry tears or sorrowful, exhausted tears?

Ask yourself: Am I poisoning or watering the world with my tears? And am I exposing myself and others to poison or pain?

Walking The Path

2013-10-09T12:28:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I bought a pound of incredibly overpriced coffee from a boy scout named Aidan. The twelve-year-old was also selling batteries and Christmas wreaths to help him become an Eagle scout. I had to put a smile on little Aidan's face so without hesitation, I bought a pound of coffee. This surprised me. I don't know Aidan. I don't know most of our neighbors. But I'm connected. I know that now. If Aidan is smiling, so am I. This is new for me, this luscious feeling of altruism and brotherhood. In the past, I would not have even gone to the door, unless, of course I thought the person ringing the doorbell had seen me inside. I would have huddled in the back of the house, waiting for whoever it was to leave. Don't bother me, I'd think. I didn't have kids for a reason, I'd think. Why should I pay for someone else's kids... in fact, some kid I don't even know. But I do know Aidan, on a spiritual level. Aidan is me. And I am Aidan. We are all Aidan. And Aidan is all of us.

For over a year, due to a severe injury, I suffered from a lonely isolation, physical pain and disability, hopelessness and fear and blinding anger. Today and everyday, my life is truly blessed with joy. How did this happen? Zen Master, Thich Nhat Hahn, said something which describes my story perfectly:

"In the ash of suffering a Phoenix can be born."

I am that Phoenix.

I have at last found the right path. I have become a realist. Some call it Buddhist. Some call it Love. I am love. I know it sounds mushy, but it is true. We are all love! It is our true nature. Most of us just haven't realized it yet. There, again, is the connection, the deciding factor... REALIZE REALITY. Until I did that, I was hopelessly lost. I guess everyone has their own version of reality. But I really love Buddhism. As for me, I've always been a part-time realist. I have always run like hell from any preaching, altar worship with or without idols, praying to someone else or something else, some deity beyond my reach, far up in the clouds. If I can't see it, prove it scientifically, it remains to be proven and I just can't buy into it. I'm certainly not going to change my ways based on "faith." Buddhism is fact-based and all of its tenets, save for the afterlife or reincarnation, can be easily proven by just observing life. I have observed it and now I know this is the path for me. Without a doubt, I'm 100% committed. Of course, my closest friends and family have been saying I should be committed for years, but they were talking about something else entirely.

Here I am, over a dozen Dharma books and two months of intensive study and practice later, and I can honestly say, "I am a part-time Buddha." You see, that's part of the attraction. In the original Buddha's eyes and his own words, anyone can be a Buddha. You don't have to have any special qualifications or be born into a select lineage. Enlightenment is possible for anyone, from a tiny gnat to a human being and everything in between. All sentient creatures can attain enlightenment. The original Buddha or "Awakened One" (Siddhartha Gautama Shakyamuni), as well as a number of spiritual leaders including His Holiness, The Dalai Lama said this is so. This is no men's-only club. Enlightenment is open to all. And you are not forced to speak through some robed figure standing above you. You can speak to the Buddha directly. Because the Buddha is YOU.

I am laughing more, seeing the big picture of life, listening better (to myself and to others), having genuine moments of joy and appreciation for every day, the sunshine and the storms! I am so crazy in love with the whole philosophy of Buddhism that I simply MUST write a blog entry about it in more detail. If you are interested in learning about Buddhism, read the rest of this blog entry. If you are bored silly or on an entirely different path, that's cool, too.

What is Buddhism? For me, it teaches how to let go. One of my favorite Buddhist Masters, Ajahn Chah, said: "If you let go a little, you a will have a little peace; if you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace; if you let go completely, you will have complete peace.”

The original Buddha said, "I teach only two things: Suffering and the end of suffering."

We need to "let go of what causes suffering." What do we mean by suffering? It doesn't mean physical pain, but emotional such as dissatisfaction, confusion, anger, fear, addiction, restlessness, boredom, etc. Also, any kind of emotional stress only heightens the pain or sense of debilitation felt from an injury or illness. I know this from direct experience as I went from taking strong painkillers around the clock to just one before sleep at night. Physical pain of any sort doesn't frighten or agitate me any more. Wisdom helps me bear it, even to feel gratitude for pain because it is my body working normally as part of the natural alarm system.

And as for emotional suffering, how does one end this? First off, let's distinguish between pain and suffering. Pain is unavoidable. Suffering is not. Remember that there will always be pain, trouble, challenges, injury, illness, etc. People we love will die, and we will, naturally, be sad for a while. It doesn't mean we cannot feel. All of these are part of life. But the question is: Will we let these situations cause us to suffer greatly, to dismantle us or destroy us? Or can these experiences make us stronger? More fully alive? Will suffering help us understand and to develop compassion for others when they suffer? It is how we deal with these troubles and challenges that prevents further internal suffering, ie. anguish, anger, jealousy, etc. Without exception, the answer can be found on the inside, within each individual. You have to take some time alone and focus on the very suffering you are avoiding or running from or clinging to, whatever it is, a person, a situation, and all the feelings it evokes. With practice, you begin to see that suffering, again, without exception, is caused by aversion or attachment (clinging) to something or someone. With deep meditation, we can let go of these causes of our suffering and be truly FREE.

In our relationships with others, it is challenging for most of us (it is for me) to be honest about what is causing our suffering. We like to blame everyone else, but is that true? Really? When the inevitable conflicts arise, and I get "hooked" (the preface to drama), I often ask myself this question: Do I want to be right or do I want to be happy? This has helped me a lot in my life, to be the water and not the rock, to try and go with the flow. Buddhism helps me stay serene despite any chaos around me. I am more mindful and open to the suffering of others. Meditating each day gives me clarity so I can observe and feel compassion for the suffering of others. Then it becomes possible to let go of my resentment, anger (aversion), etc. toward them, or my expectations (attachments).

Here's a great video of Tibetan nun Thubten Chodron about the topic of relationships from the Buddhist standpoint. It's humorous and illuminating: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qfS9vK35UA.

A large part of Buddhism is in the awakening. This comes from meditation and mindfulness, learning to still the constant drone of noise in our minds, the distractions that keep us from our true, content and compassionate selves. It comes also from learning to be fully present. An awareness begins to develop. It's like the whole world has opened and you see it for the first time, like a newborn baby. You see it with wonder and gratitude and joy. You let go of the worry, the anger, the judgment of others and yourself, the need to be certain of anything. You see that the mystery is life is beautiful.

Other significant Buddhist teachings are: 1) Realizing that life is impermanent, everything changes at all times (so why attach oneself to any of it?). 2) Human life is precious and rare so have gratitude for every moment you've been given. 3) We are all connected, and therefore, there is no self, no I. 4) Everything we do or do not do creates a karmic imprint. Another term for this reality is cause and effect. Even our "intention" brings karma in this life (or the next, if you believe in reincarnation). You can do a good deed, but what you think while doing it matters as much or more. We are all subject to karma. 5) Everyone, every living being can attain enlightenment, the awakening. This is the end of suffering. Once this state is reached, a newfound compassion for others and love for life radiates from the heart.

His Holiness The Dalai Lama said, "My true religion is loving kindness." This is something we can all follow, words to really consider as you go about your day. The earth and all of life on it is precious. Why not practice more kindness? Share more of your heart?

Among Buddhism's most basic principles are the Four Noble Truths (Suffering, Its Cause, Its Cessation and The Path to Cessation), as well as the Noble Eight-Fold Path. The path is as follows and is circular, like a lotus blossom:

Right Mindfulness
Right Concentration
Right Understanding
Right Thought
Right Speech
Right Action
Right Livelihood
Right Effort

Buddhism has around three-hundred precepts, taken by Monks or Nuns, but only five basic precepts are expected as a day to day training for a lay Buddhist. A lay practitioner doesn't have to adhere to these vows, but I believe that doing so enhances one's practice and naturally fits in with all the other teachings. It is no effort to follow them for most people. In fact, for most people attracted to Buddhism, these are already part of their belief system. These vows are:

1) To undertake the training to avoid taking the life of beings. This precept applies to all living beings not just humans. All beings have a right to their lives and that right should be respected.

2) To undertake the training to avoid taking things not given. This precept goes further than mere stealing. One should avoid taking anything unless one can be sure that is intended that it is for you.

3) To undertake the training to avoid sensual misconduct. This precept is often mistranslated or misinterpreted as relating only to sexual misconduct but it covers any overindulgence in any sensual pleasure such as gluttony as well as misconduct of a sexual nature. For lay folks, this means abstaining or being in a committed relationship or marriage and being loyal to that.

4) To undertake the training to refrain from false speech. As well as avoiding lying and deceiving, this precept covers slander as well as speech which is not beneficial to the welfare of others.

5) To undertake the training to abstain from substances which cause intoxication and heedlessness. This precept is in a special category as it does not infer any intrinsic evil in, say, alcohol itself but indulgence in such a substance could be the cause of breaking the other four precepts.

Fairly early on, within days of studying Buddhism and meditating, I began to have glimpses of enlightenment. It is the greatest joy I've ever felt. But I've learned that, like all good things, it takes practice to stay awake. lt takes time and diligent effort to shed our negative habits and distractions. My life has purpose, to evolve as fully as I can and help others along the way. Developing more gratitude, serenity, wisdom and compassion are my highest goals. To me, nothing else is more important.

I will end with a wonderful, easy-to-follow suggestion from Tibetan Nun and author, Pema Chodron (http://pemachodronfoundation.org):

"At some point, if you’re fortunate, you’ll hit a wall of truth and wonder what you’ve been doing with your life. At that point you’ll feel highly motivated to find out what frees you and helps you to be kinder and more loving, less klesha driven and confused. At that point you’ll actually want to be present—present as you go through a door, present as you take a step, present as you wash your hands or wash a dish, present to being triggered, present to simmering, present to the ebb and flow of your emotions and thoughts. Day in and day out, you’ll find that you notice sooner when you’re hooked, and it will be easier to refrain. If you continue to do this, a kind of shedding happens—a shedding of old habits, a shedding of being run around by pleasure and pain, a shedding of being held hostage by worldly concerns."

The Beauty of Books

2013-08-29T13:32:00.002-05:00

Wow, what an awesome journey the past year has been! I have so much to say as I continue to follow my Buddhist path; my heart is bursting with joy and gratitude, my mind expanding with new wisdom and insights. But today, I simply want to share a lovely, funny story I heard. It came to me from a dear and compassionate friend, just a few hours ago.

And it's a true story, making it all the more wonderful:

A woman writer had just completed her first novel. She was overwhelmed with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Soon after, she stopped by a book shop and told the clerk, "I just finished my first novel, and I'm so excited I had to share it with someone!" The clerk smiled back in appreciation and exclaimed, "Wow, really? That is awesome!" The writer beamed with renewed pride and joy. The clerk then asked, "So will you be buying your second book today?"

I just love this story on so many levels! First off, I used to be a reading tutor, and I've supported literacy programs throughout my life in any way I can. Reading is such an amazing gift, a window to the world, knowledge, other cultures, etc. Literacy is something I'm passionate about. But I'm also a writer and know that immense feeling of accomplishment when a new story is complete. I can only imagine the pleasure and pride of completing a full-length novel. It's so precious to me that this bookstore clerk celebrated what she perceived as the awesome achievement of reading one's first book. The fact that we can so completely misunderstand each other is also entertaining to me.

As for the writer in this story, who is now an accomplished novelist with a string of bestsellers to her credit, I am certain she tells this story at her multiple book signings because it makes her fans laugh... but also because she learned from this experience. I think this story reminded her to stay humble. But it also highlighted the reason we writers write -- it's to be read!! That's the ultimate goal, to share one's words through writing. Without literacy, our words would fall on deaf ears, never reach anyone's heart or mind.

So please read a book today. Better yet, read someone else a book who can't do it for themselves. Better still, TEACH someone to read!

Back on Track (so to speak)

2013-08-24T14:28:00.003-05:00

For anyone following my progress since the "accident" (Setting: garage sale / Incident: old lady lifted out of chair / Result: herniated disc and sacral torsion / Clarification: the lady walked away unharmed, while I've been having physical therapy for the past year), I'm back on track, at least mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

I'm not a whole lot better in terms of my SI joint dysfunction and referred pain from the herniated disc. I still cannot bear sitting or standing for more than a few minutes at a time. But I can tolerate the pain and disability a whole lot more now that my other parts are in good working order. I speak of the mind, the heart and the spirit, which all contribute to one's wellness. I've learned how true that is over the course of time, and especially most recently.

Something significant and transformative happened to me in early August. First, I had yet another complete meltdown, triggered by ferocious anger and fear and sadness. I missed my former way of life. It was robust, full of stimulating activities; I was writing full-time (a long-time dream fulfilled), attending a weekly writer's workshop, participating in a drum circles, Bluegrass jams, singing karaoke, learning how to dance to Dubstep music, walking three miles a day, attending a Socrates Cafe coffee shop chats every week, driving or flying home to see my family in Ohio at least twice a year and so much more. It was all gone, and I had no idea if or when I'd ever get it back.

Then, something surprising happened within me: Total SURRENDER. I said to myself, "I'm letting go." Thereafter, I began a focused study of and attention on Buddhism. It's something I've been thinking about for some time. Yes, me a Buddhist. Just maybe. This is amazing stuff and, so far, all its principles have me utterly fascinated and in awe. Everything is connecting with me and resonating within me at a very deep level. Unlike most spiritual tenets or belief systems, I've found nothing remotely "icky" about it. In fact, in some ways, Buddhism is very scientific, which greatly appeals to the common sense, rational side of me. The original Buddha and His Holiness, The Dalai Lama, both urge followers or potential followers to constantly question the Buddha's teachings, test them in a mindful, methodical way. I like that.

The first thing I did was contact a good friend, whom I knew was a practicing Buddhist. He agreed to help me along my journey or studies, however you want to put it. He also recommended several books. So far, I've read four amazing books, so far, and have just opened my fifth, each about Eastern philosophy (Taoism and Hinduism but mostly Buddhism). One book was written by an Indian Spiritual Guru whom I've admired and read many times over and whose workshops I've attended over the years, one by an American Psychologist, one by a Tibetan nun, one by an American Psychologist, Buddhist Practitioner, best-selling author and former Tibetan Monk and another by a lesser known Italian Psychologist/Buddhist Practitioner.

One thing that really surprised me is that many great Buddhist teachers do not consider Buddhism a religious discipline but a psychological discipline. In fact, the Buddha, himself, said that his teaching was neither a dogma nor a doctrine. He taught a method for experiencing reality. Buddhism has but one practical purpose: to end suffering and achieve a permanent state of serenity.

Today, moment by moment, experience by experience, I find my heart opening, tears of joy and gratitude spilling over. I realized I have been on this path all my life, the path toward Buddhism or at least some mixture of Eastern philosophy with a focus on Buddhism. I've always been open-minded and will continue to be. I'll continue to attend my beloved and uber-tolerant United Unitarian Universalist church for wisdom, community and opportunities for service. And I'll continue to study and learn about all schools of thought, all spiritual doctrines or methods throughout my life. But in the here and now, I realize that there have been stepping stones leading me to this moment throughout my life and this realization of where I've been heading could not have come at a better time in my life.

So many little stepping stones or seeds have appeared along my journey, and though I walked the path, I often also danced around it, easily distracted, always seeking other truth, always questioning. For whatever reason, I never really gave Buddhism, specifically, my full-on focus and attention... until now.

I'm just at the beginning of my study, and likely, practice of Buddhism, but I can honestly say I've never felt more fully awake before, nor more fully connected to others (humans, animals, plants, rocks, etc.) on this earth and beyond, than I do today. We are all connected in our mutual suffering and our mutual love and compassion for one another and so we belong to one another. In fact, we cannot exist independently of anything else. It's truly amazing... the more I study this, the more joyous I feel.

Therefore... I am doing much better now, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I'm sorry for my recent doom and gloom blog entries. I think they shall be a thing of the past. I'm still human. I'll have the inevitable hiccups and downer days. But I have the feeling they will come less and less, despite what life throws at me.

As for the "physical" improvement, it will also come... in its own time. I have refocused on what is important in life. I am full of happiness and excitement and passion today!! I am still in pain and limited in what I can do (cannot sit or stand long yet). But I am throwing myself into life with a new abandon because of this meditation and study and the deep spiritual insight that it brings.

For example... this morning I awoke in pain at a very early hour (3 AM). Instead of fighting it and laying awake for hours, I got out of bed, made a cup of peppermint tea, then kneeled in front of our big sliding glass doors that lead out to our patio (our "oasis," with a rock garden, trees, flowers, birds, etc.). Due to my recent studies, my awareness and senses have been enhanced. Also, I feel more appreciation for every moment, the here and now, despite my physical pain and isolation. I do agree that experiencing extreme physical pain can lead you to a beautiful place if you let it. And I think my past year's journey has lead me here too.

So I kneeled there and gazed up at the pale moonlit olive tree and listened to the beautiful sound of a female Cicada singing. I think that's what it was. I call her my "Dharma bug" because her song consists of a series of perfect high "D" notes and it is so peaceful and soft like the sound of a cat purring. Truly! I then noticed the chorus, no, the symphony of other insects singing around her and felt such joy! I heard the wind blowing softly through the leaves and the slight crackle as a small mouse or other creature moved through dry leaves nearby. I heard a bat or a large insect bounce against the window pane.

Then I walked outside in my nightgown, bare feet on wet grass, and looked at the stars, so clear in the early morning country sky, and the waning three-quarter moon and I could smell the sweet scent of ripening apples in our apple trees, and citrusy scent of our row of pine trees. I could hear the sound of David snoring through his window (I laughed) and I was and still am so happy. It is all so amazing, isn't it? Life? Truly amazing, beautiful and such an adventure, moment by moment if we awake to it, appreciate it. I've always been a huge nature lover and found my most peaceful moments among the trees, out bird-watching or scratching out a poem under a tree, but this was new, this awareness is new to me.

What I mean by all this is… I'm hanging in there and, though doing whatever my doctors say to do to continue to heal, I also accept my life as it is for the moment, and trust that everything is continuously changing. That is the nature of life, its impermanence. In my heart, I know everything will be fine. And that heart brims over with new joy. I cannot wait to share this joy with everyone I meet. I feel it spilling over, in my eyes, in my posture, in my words. All I want, right in this moment, is to become a more compassionate person with more wisdom. And I know that is possible, no matter what my circumstances.

It all starts now. Anything is possible in any given moment. You just have to open your eyes, see it and smile.

Upcoming Stories... An UPDATE!

2013-08-23T15:50:00.001-05:00

I was elated this afternoon to hear that "Salem Cemetery," published by Inwood Indiana Press, has finally been released in paperback. This book is an anthology and has two of my short stories, "Lycanthrope" and "Mandolyn." Both stories are written in the Magic-Realism genre.

UPDATE! I just received news that "Apeshit," another anthology, has been published by Exeter Press in paperback form. This issue includes my short story, "Strange Companions at London Zoo." Of all the stories I've written, this general interest story is one I'm most fond of, given that one of the story's main characters is "Gee," a mountain gorilla. Next to wolves and koalas, mountain gorillas are my next favorite animal. They are truly beautiful creatures with more depth and intelligence than most people give them credit for. I hope anyone out there who gives that story a gander will feel the same way I do about it (the story and the mountain gorilla).

I have to keep this short because I'm still having trouble sitting or standing for more than a few minutes at a time (back injury and SI joint dysfunction). Though my sacrum is killing me, my fingers are itching to write again. I hope to be back to full-length blog entries, as well as more short stories, as soon as I'm healed, and I will continue to share links to this blog with all my email friends whenever there is something new to report.

Until next time...

I Want My Life Back

2013-06-24T13:21:00.004-05:00

Well, to anyone reading this, if any, here's an update on my health nightmare... Sorry, I can't summon any other topic right now. This is in the forefront of my brain. I'm still stuck here at home with 100% focus on healing and getting my life back, so here goes...

Nothing has changed. I am still in constant PAIN and living only a half life. My hips, pelvis and sacrum are the main issue, although the longer I go without walking (impossible with a bum hip), the worse my back pain becomes. I'm worried that without the walking (I had done up until three weeks ago), my back will only continue to worsen. Walking is good for back injuries, however it is terrible for bad hips.

Three weeks ago, Dr. E., a sports medicine doctor, looked me over, ordered more x-rays and then diagnosed me with SI joint dysfunction. He also said my pelvis is misaligned from side to side. I also have a sacral torsion from front to back, according to my physical therapist. And, as per my sports medicine doc, my IT band is snapping, causing additional pain into my left leg. Fun stuff all around. He suggested I continue with targeted PT and see him in three weeks.

After following his instructions, as well as those of my PT, here I am, three weeks later without much progress. The only slight improvement is my abs, glutes, abductors and adductors are getting stronger. But the pain is no better, if not worse. I cannot walk without a limp, so my PT said I have to use a cane. Wonderful news for a woman of only fifty. But I do it. Anything if it helps.

Dr. E. and I meet again tomorrow and I will tell him I've had it. Now I'm more than desperate. I'm frantic. I'm bordering on suicidal. I need my life back and NOW! I don't know how long I'll hold onto my sanity at this rate. My emotional meltdowns are increasing in frequency. My poor husband. I know how hard this has been for him, listening to my howling, wiping my tears, helping with extra chores I cannot do.

I had a meltdown today simply because I received a nice card from my family. I retrieved the mail, opened and read the card while walking back up to the house and burst into tears. Thank God I got into the house before I frightened the neighbors. The pain of missing them is heart-wrenching. A part of me is missing because I haven't seen any of them in a year. It's the longest I've been away from my family without a visit.

Today I will drive to the YMCA and try their pool again. I cannot do much except for walk around in the shallow end and lift the legs out to the sides and behind me (abductors and glute muscles).

And tomorrow, I'll beg Dr. E. to hasten this healing process any way he can. Maybe it's time for another cortisone shot or two.... or a nerve block... or a tens unit... anything!!

More later... thank you for listening.

Desperate Times

2013-05-27T13:11:00.002-05:00

This blog entry will be scattered with typos and subpar in every regard. It will have no style whatsoever, unless you consider sophomoric and blasé as a distinct style. It will be depressing and morbid. But it will be personal. And it will be real. That I can promise with full confidence.

I've had it. Absolutely, without a doubt, HAD it. It's been almost ten months since I lifted that old lady out of a chair at a neighborhood garage sale and herniated my disc. If someone had told me I would still be in pain nearly a year later, I would have screamed. I'm frustrated, angry and hopeless. These are desperate times.

I'm willing to try anything it takes to get well, including surgery. Since this happened, I've seen two chiropractors, one physical therapist, two orthopedic surgeons, one neurosurgeon and my family physician. I've also seen another boatload of doctors on two visits to the ER. I've had two MRI's, three sets of x-rays and a bone scan. I've had two cortisone shots in my L5-S1 disc and one in my left sacroiliac joint. I was taking Flexeril, Diazepam, Hydrocodone with Acetominophen and Naproxen. I was icing and rubbing Bio-Freeze into the painful areas. I was avoiding any activity that hurt me, including sitting or standing too long. I wasn't driving but on the rare occasion nor doing any of the normal activities people do, like working (my writing has been put on hold) and all but the least vigorous house cleaning. I've worn a back brace and a sacrum belt.

And the result of all this time, money and energy devoted to my healing process? None of the above has given me significant relief. The only thing that has benefited me has been the PT, which I've done religiously every day even when the pain was at its worst. Thanks to a wonderful physical therapist, these stretches and exercises have strengthened my core -- especially my back -- and my legs.

In addition to the back pain, I've been having hip pain on my left side and feel something "go out" there any time I move my left leg the wrong way, usually too far to the left or right. This has been happening for about two months now.

Up until two weeks ago, I was making progress. My back pain was more manageable, and I was in the process of weaning myself off all the meds. But my left hip is getting progressively worse. It actually feels like the bone is coming out of the socket and when it happens, it hurts like hell, then creates waves of pain and/or muscle spasms afterward.

I will call the neurosurgeon tomorrow and let him know that the SI joint injection has only reduced my pain slightly and most importantly, it has done nothing to prevent me from dislocating something in my left pelvis and creating more inflammation and pain every time. I have been wearing my sacrum belt all day, but it does NOT prevent that "thing" in my pelvis from "popping in/out" or at least trying to.

Like I said, I've had it. I want my fricking life back!!! I miss everything... walking, writing, taking baths, shopping in a real store (vs. online), holding my cat on my lap, sitting, reclining on the easy chair, my writing workshop. I miss not having to be careful every minute of every day... I miss bluegrass jams and drum circles and church and meeting friends in coffee shops and bird-watching and running and riding in the car with David (and sitting vs. laying in the backseat on a row of pillows).

I'm tired of feeling like a completely useless invalid. I can't sit for more than thirty minutes once a day nor stand for more than ten minutes at a time. This means I can't contribute much of anything to my marital relationship. I can wash dishes (IF the pain isn't too bad), do laundry, make dinner, excavate the litter boxes, sew buttons back onto shirts. But other than that, I have no reason to get up in the morning.

All winter I was stuck inside, unable to walk outside most days due to ice and snow. So I walked in our basement every day. Now that spring has sprung and the lawn and trees are verdant and green and the birds are singing and the sun is shining, I can go outside any time I like. But I cannot walk now, due to my pelvis injury. Great timing, eh? Nice. Real nice. Give it to me and take it away again, that's been the drill. Why stop now? Fate, you really know how to beat the spirit out of someone.

Today, my left leg is numb or painful down to the foot or wracked with pain and spasms. My left pelvis feels like it's coming off the hinge and both the left and right hurt like a sonofabitch. I am hobbling from room to room, unable to bear weight on my left leg at all. The pain is off the charts again without meds and barely tolerable with them. I'm back on Vicodin, which I'd been off of for three months. I've taken ten steps backward.

My body is broken, but worst of all is that heart is broken. My writing career was just starting to take off before this injury. It's been almost a year since I've written anything but the very rare blog entry. I can do in short spurts, and I don't need to critique while I write. I don't need to ensure it's good technique. It's just for me and no one else. No worries But it's not fiction. It's not what I LOVE. I can't write my beloved fiction. It requires more concentration and skill and TIME than I can manage because I still cannot fricking SIT. The sacrum pain, when I do sit, is off the charts. It's unbearable. It feels like I'm sitting on an open wound, a broken part. It's horrendous. So I keep sitting to a very short time each day.

The other reason I can't write, even were I to try from this position (laptop on my legs, while laying on my back) is it strains my lower back. It's not a perfect position, that's for sure. I'm already at my limit right now, and it's only been a half hour. Writing fiction requires time. Just one short story takes me ten to twelve hours, and that's on a good day. Then there are several more days of editing before it's ready to submit. And most importantly, if none of that were true, I still couldn't write because it's sooo addictive. I cannot stop when I should. A new story sucks me in with a great whoosh, and I disappear for a few days. It's just how the creative process works for me. I have to give in to it or else it's gone. The magic, the ideas, the flow is interrupted if I stop. I just can't write fiction in fits and spurts. It doesn't work that way for me. In order to write my beloved fiction again, I'm going to have to be able to endure at least THREE hours of sitting. If I can't do that, it's not going to happen.

And last, but not least, there is the pain. Always the pain. It's my most unwelcome companion. Pain has taken up residence in me and refuses to vacate the premises. As long as I'm in this kind of pain, even WITH heavy drugs, my creative flow is altered. I just can't be creative when I'm in pain. All I can think about is the pain. It blinds me to anything else for more than a few minutes.

I have nothing to look forward to, no purpose, no sense of accomplishment for anything since I can do virtually nothing. I feel like a pathetic, worn out old woman, crawling from one day to the next like a rusty roboton. From time to time, I feel a surge of hope and my step gets a teensy bit faster, and I do a joke of a dance, like a fragile antique puppet on a frayed string. Why do I keep moving? Because I'm supposed to. I'm trained oh so well. Keep going, you must always keep going. My husband says, "Don't give up. You have to keep trying." Yeah, right. That's worked so well up until now. Maybe giving up hope, giving up trying is the way to go. It's definitely less stressful, and they say stress impedes the healing process. Hey, maybe I'm on to something.

It was a good life, and I want it back. I've given up hope. It's too painful to feel it surge in my chest, full of promising visions of vitality and normalcy, and then wave it goodbye as it's snatched from my arms once again. I finally realized yesterday that nothing I've done, nor do, will affect change. The only thing that has or will make a difference is TIME. And how much longer it will be is a knowledge forbidden to me. I have to just suck it up and wait it out. Continuing on this roller coaster ride of hope and dashed hope and hope and dashed hope is too painful. I give up.

Do you hear me, God or fate or whatever and whoever is in charge of this measly life I lead? I give up. You win. You're in control. I get it. I'm here in this pathetic non-existence and wracked with unimaginable pain, day and night and maybe there is a reason and maybe there isn't. Maybe it's just for kicks, a source of entertainment for someone. Maybe I'm being punished for all the horrible, thoughtless, selfish things I've done. Maybe this is my comeuppance.

Maybe my house is haunted or some evil spirit put a hex on me. Yes, maybe I am cursed. Hey, it sure feels that way. And it's not just the injuries that make me consider this. Lately, everything I touch crumbles into bits of nothing. Everything I attempt to do backfires. Everything I touch breaks. Every time I try to communicate I am misunderstood.

Friends and family have begun to give me that look or that silence, both of which say, "What more do you want from me? What more can I say? I'm tired of saying how sorry I am, you poor thing. Jeez, get over it already. You obviously don't want to get well or you would have by now. Maybe you're just looking for attention. Your serving of sympathy has run dry. Enough already!"

Yes, I hear this every time they don't answer the phone, every time I leave a voice mail message or send a letter, every time they say they're busy and can't talk right now, have to get back to their nice, normal lives. I hear it every time I send them a card or gift and don't hear back. I hear it every time I spread my guts on a platter and everyone looks away in disgust. "Get a hold of yourself." "She's obviously unstable." "She's so stressed out. That's the reason she's still in so much pain. It must be psychosomatic." "Yes, maybe she's imagining all of it. It's possible. It makes sense. Snap out of it, already! We're tired of hearing you whine. Can't you find something nice to say, for God's sake?"

I don't blame them. I'm sick of me, too. I'm certain that my level of flabbergastedness with myself is miles higher than anyone else's.

So I say -- Get on with it, God! Slice me up and feed me to the birds already. End it. End me. If that's your plan for me, can't you just move it along? What a cruel god. He plays with me like a curious little kid with a bug, holding a magnifying glass at just the right angle to burn the writhing victim below the glass.

Like I said... I've had it. Done. Finito. Over and out.

Human Connections

2013-01-14T16:45:00.003-06:00

What would happen if we could always give everyone the benefit of the doubt, even after they screwed up? What would happen if we could always believe that everyone around us is doing the very best they can at any given moment, just as we, ourselves, are doing? Imagine the possibilities...

These questions arose in my mind because I was thinking about wholeheartedness and human connections and what it might mean if one could truly feel and, more importantly, LIVE seamlessly connected with our brethren on this earth. From my experience, you can feel something, but the next step is really believing it, and the final step is living it. Living it means putting your beliefs into action, incorporating them into everything you do and how you behave toward others.

Over the past five years, I've realized my need for human connection, and luckily have satisfied that need over the past year. I've nurtured many new, deeply rewarding friendships because of my awakening. And I have so much more joy and feel more truly human because these dear friends are part of my life.

But I have to ask myself: Where the concept of human connection is concerned, am I truly LIVING it? No, I don't think so. I think I can do better. To do so is scary, because it would mean extending my circle of friends to include everyone on the earth. And it would mean being vulnerable, the most frightening thing of all. The unknown risks of that, alone, frighten most into complacency. It would mean embracing all of humankind as my brothers and sisters of the earth, including the ones who hurt me or hurt others, including criminals. It would mean forgiving them without hesitation, just as we should forgive ourselves.

The whole concept of human connection means recognizing that we, as human beings, are in this together, that we share the same basic needs and desires, that we all want to be loved and accepted and respected, that we are all flawed and make mistakes and do the best that we can in any given moment based on a complex set of genetic, social and environmental factors.

I started to think about this concept, really living it, and why it scared me so much. What is the obstacle for me, personally? I really don't know for sure. But perhaps partly, it is fear of trusting (myself as well as others), of believing that everything will be okay if I open my heart without reservation to everyone. It should be so easy, especially when you realize that most of us have already felt the connection. Even I, in my most anti-social, most independent moments, have felt that seamless connection. I reflected upon that euphoria that rises within me every time I stand and watch a parade. It's not the parade that does it; it's the crowd around me, the common pleasure I am sharing with complete strangers. I felt that same joyful connection when David and I cheered from the sidelines at the Boston Marathon. It was amazing, this high rise of joy I felt in my heart, and I knew it wasn't due to the race we were watching but the other spectators we shared it with.

It finally donned on me why people love football and other sporting events so much or why they continue to wait in traffic to attend a live music concert. I always thought it was crazy to stand in line for hours to buy a ticket, then hours more to get into the stadium when you can easily watch the game at home or buy the CD and listen to the music with acoustic perfection. And why they pay $50 to $100 a ticket to stand in a thick crowd high up in the stands with a tiny view of the action or show. It's about the sharing. They want to feel the joy of human connection around them.

I'm still learning and evolving. I'm still asking the same questions and only guessing the answers. But I think I'm getting closer to that ultimate realization, that epiphany moment when I stop asking and just say, Yes! Yes!

I want to live a wholehearted life. I want to not only feel, but believe and to not only believe but live in a seamless connection with others. Up until now, I've only had momentary glimpses and tiny tastes of what that kind of life could be. Perhaps it would be like a never-ending parade that never ceased to amaze. How euphoric life would be if we could all just let go of the expectations and fear and judgment and shame, not only of ourselves but everyone else? If we could wholeheartedly live and trust and love ourselves as much as others, and love others as much as ourselves.

Imagine the possibilities.

The Story Of How We Met

2012-12-19T17:08:00.001-06:00

I'm going to get very personal with this entry and tell the story of how David (my husband) and I first met. I realized I never put this down on paper nor in digital format anywhere. How sad would it be if I died and this wonderful story remained untold? I've given some of the details to a few close friends and family, but I'm pretty sure not one living soul has heard the full story. And it's a story worth telling, I assure you.

The first time I met David was when I was working as Marketing and Promotions Coordinator at Northfield Park, a harness racetrack in Ohio. It was about to become Northfield Park Harness and Microbrewery, and I knew the president and general manager were interviewing for the job of Master Brewer. I also knew that I'd be working closely with whomever they hired, since it was my job to advertise and promote at the racetrack. I was busy working on my computer when I heard the GM call my name. I turned around to see Tom (our GM) and Myron (our president) standing with a strange young man just outside my office doorway.

I stepped forward with my hand extended toward the stranger as they introduced him to me as Northfield Park Microbrewery's new Master Brewer. He smiled, shook my hand and said something. I really can't remember what, probably "nice to meet you," but my eyes were drawn to two things: His gentle blue eyes and his mouth, which housed a shining set of silver braces. We exchanged a few more casual comments, and then he was off on down the hallway with my employers to meet the rest of our crew in the general office. I watched him leave and then nodded in disbelief as I walked back to my desk. The guy had a pony tail. Our leaders at the track were as straight-laced as men can be, so that sort of surprised me. But then again, what did I know? Maybe all brewers looked like hippies. I had a lot to learn about brewers and brewing and looked forward to the task of advertising a whole new animal, far from the four-legged kind I was used to.

The next time I saw David was in our weekly advertising meeting. He was dressed more casually then, and I noticed some unique aspects of his attire. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a pair of Vans, pathetically worn at the toes and an intriguing necklace laced with three Ivory pieces. The focal piece was roundish and about an inch in diameter. I couldn't tell what it was but later learned that it was a symbol of Bacchus, God of wine and merry-making. I didn't know too many men who wore necklaces.

We all sat down at the table to discuss the design of our microbrewery, the beers we'd offer, etc. David, at first glance, looked like a blonde surfer dude. We learned he was from California originally but had recently left another brewery in Utah. Only in his early thirties, and he had lived in three different states. I liked and admired his gypsy spirit. He was an anomaly. He had been hired to operate our new brewery, and I knew he had to have talent to do that. I also knew the crazy high standards of my employers. But David's appearance was throwing me off completely. I mean, he was a long-haired hippy dude. I had no doubt about that. Was he going to live up to their high expectations? Was he going to fit in?

And then he began to speak, discussing his ideas for the brewery, sharing his technical knowledge, as well as his creative genius. I was floored. This guy had brains... real brains. And he had the documents to prove it. I learned he had studied and graduated from two different colleges in CA, earning two Bachelor degrees and one Master's.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I worked closely with David and learned everything I could about brewing. We built the brewery and had a successful launch several months later, featuring four main beers, Crimson Colt Ale, Silks Cream Ale, Winners Wheat and 40 to 1 Stout. Before, during and after the launch, David and I had multiple meetings. I wanted to ensure the advertising was perfect and needed his input every step of the way. I enjoyed all my conversations with this guy. He was intelligent, engaging, humble, gentle, but had this great, twisted sense of humor. When you spent time with him, one-on-one, he was pretty mellow and listened more than spoke, but then he'd reel off this crazy zinger or witty play on words that had me laughing constantly. And the more we got to know each other, the more he spoke, and he had such great stories to tell.

Very quickly, I was struggling not to like him too much. We were co-workers after all. But something about this guy, despite the fact that he was nowhere close to my physical "type," was really attractive, almost magnetic to me. My mind kept wandering back to him, even when he wasn't around, and it was really irritating to me.

"I have to stop thinking about this guy," I remembered telling my best friend one weekend. "He's a hippy dude. His shoes have holes in them. What am I thinking?"

My friend's response was something to the effect of, "If you're having fun, just go with it. Stop stressing about it."

"He drives a VW van. It's rusty," I whined. "He's unkempt, not my type at all."

"But didn't you say he rides a motorcycle, too? That's hot," she rebutted.

I sighed. She was right. Motorcycles and guys who rode them were hot. "And he's funny and kind and so smart... but he's not in your face about it, you know? He's humble. Damn. I really like this guy, Sharon. I really really like this guy."

Soon after that, it was beyond my control. I, being the romantic, looked for and found all the signs I was looking for. We had so much in common! We had both worked at a Renaissance Faire. We shared a common ancestry from bonny Scotland. We were both "free-thinkers," rebelling against organized religion. We both loved to travel, loved animals, loved spicy food. We both liked kids, but neither one of us wanted to have kids. For both of us, life was about adventure and laughter and not being afraid to be silly or have fun and it was about continuing to learn and grow as individuals. We both liked to read. I read Gregory Maguire and E.L. Doctorow and he read Cycle World and The Science of Brewing and Distilling. We were meant to be!

Despite all these signs and common interests, David happily enjoyed the moment without any suggestion to go forward, to "take it to the next level." So I made all the first moves in our relationship, but he promptly agreed to or went along with everything. I invited him to a New Year's Eve party and then out for a drink and after that, we were inseparable. We worked together. We played together. We were stuck like glue. And I loved it. I quickly fell madly in love with him. And he fell in love with me shortly after.

About a year later, we were eating dinner at a Mexican restaurant, and he excused himself to go to the men's room. While he was away from our table, I wrote him a message on a tortilla chip. In purple ink, I wrote: "Wanna live together?"

Upon his return, he picked the chip up from his plate and read it. He was silent for some time. It seemed like it was a long, long, long time, when in fact, it was likely only a few seconds. I guess he was digesting the proposal. David isn't one to respond quickly to anything. He takes his time before speaking. And then he looked at me very seriously and said something like, "Well, it's something to think about."

I was heartbroken that he didn't immediately jump at the idea or jump up from the table and throw his arms around me, saying yes let's do it! After crying in the bathroom for a while, I wiped my eyes and returned to the table. I didn't say much after that, and we left the restaurant. We sat in the van and talked about it. He said he wasn't against the idea, but that he just needed time to process it. I don't remember when we finally decided to do it, but we did, and we've been together ever since.

So not only was I the one to ask him out on a date first, but I suggested we move in together... and I said, "I love you" first. Every overture was returned in full, and many many years later I suggested we get married... which, as you already know, we did. I'm a go-getter, what can I say? And he's very agreeable. Over the years, I've come to realize just how different we are from each other. We couldn't be any more different. Me, the whimsical, high-spirited, fast-moving feeler and David, the laid back, gentle, slow-moving thinker. But it works. Somehow it just works.

We've stuck together through thick and thin, rough times and sad times. Even a challenging and heart-breaking sale of our house and move from Ohio to Wisconsin didn't dismantle us. And then another transition from a tiny dollhouse in Waukesha to our own cozy home here in the Mukwonago countryside. We couldn't be happier here. But really, it doesn't matter where we are, I'm madly in love with my hippy dude and he couldn't be any more my "type." He's exactly what I needed most and cherish most in this world. I keep him fired up, and he keeps me grounded. We complement each other.

As I've always said about "us," after fourteen years together, "We have good glue."

Solitude and Blankets

2012-11-30T10:04:00.002-06:00

Solitude. I learned from an early age how important it is to enjoy one's own company and how essential solitude is to one's sense of well-being. At one point in my life, it was like chocolate to me. I thought I could never get enough of it; the taste was so delicious. And life threw me a curve ball. Well, actually, it was more of a fast ball aiming straight for my head. I either had to dive out of the way or risk cracking all my face bones and catch it. I caught it alright, but it changed my life.

I ended up here in Wisconsin, far away from my family and friends and everything familiar. For a while there, I felt like my very identity was dismantled. During the vast stretches of time that my husband was away working at his dream job, I was left alone. Those stretches were frequent at first. None of the jobs I found here evolved into the beloved graphics career I left in Ohio. But I loved being by myself so at first it was okay; if I wasn't working, I could easily entertain myself. There were so many new places to explore. And even if I sat alone at home, I can spend hours just writing (which turned into a full-time career, as most of you know) or thinking or listening to the birds or music or reading a good book. But eventually, I began to crave human connections, real face-to-face human connections. Calls home just weren't cutting it. I was surprised, because I thought I'd never tire of solitude. But I did.

When I went out into the world, it struck me like a slap in the face that not one person would recognize me, not one person would wave hello or tap me on the arm at the store and say, "Hi, Carrie. What's up?" And if I had the sudden urge to go have some java and gab with a friend at the coffee shop or go see a movie, there was no one to call. David was usually working, and when he got home, he was tired and not often eager to go anywhere but to bed.

The desire for real-time self-expression was extraordinary. It became stronger and stronger within me until I felt about to burst. The energy and knowledge and satisfaction one gains from face-to-face social interaction are priceless necessities of life. It took a few years but eventually I made friends, joined a few social groups and started to feel whole again. I was like a tree, finally spreading my roots out and twisting them around the roots of other trees, sort of like a handshake. And it felt good. After regaining what I had lost, I realized how vital social interaction is to my happiness, to anyone's happiness. I vowed to never get lost within myself for too long ever again. I am a human being, not an "island," as someone very wise once said. And I am social by nature.

Most recently, I was reminded what too much solitude can do to a person. For four months now, I've struggled with a forced hibernation. A herniated disc took me away from my beloved writing, as well as my friends and all social gatherings. Extreme pain and the inability to sit for more than five minutes limited almost everything I could do, including drive. And solitude is making me crazy! I feel like a balloon filled with too much helium, straining and eager to burst any second.

I know it's partly my fault. I disappeared for a while. I stayed in contact with friends and family by phone and internet, but I could have easily invited someone over for a visit and did not. Why? I didn't want to bother anyone, depress anyone with my problems, my pain. And I was embarrassed because the house is messy, mortified that someone might see the cat hair tumbleweeds blowing across the carpet and turn away in disgust.

Solitude is like a warm blanket. Everybody needs a warm blanket sometimes. It's cozy and comfortable, but if you sit under a warm blanket indefinitely, you'll suffocate. You need fresh air too. And for me, that fresh air is face-to-face contact with people who care about me.

Today, a friend is coming over to visit. And I am ecstatic! I love my darling David to pieces, and enjoy his company immensely, but I need to see another face, hug another friend, and talk and talk and talk to someone who hasn't heard all my stories already, to someone who has new stories to tell me. And then I'll feel truly human again.

Goodbye, solitude. At least for today, I'm putting away the warm blanket. It will be there, all folded up and ready for me whenever I need it again.

Sounds Like I'm Crazy

2012-11-27T13:33:00.000-06:00

Awakenings Review's most recent edition is out, and I am honored to be included among so many wonderful writers. My poem, "Sounds Like I'm Crazy" was accepted by the editors of the Awakenings Review quite some time ago, so I'm very excited to finally have the issue in my hot little hands! A copy of the poem appears at the end of this blog. It's far from my best poetry ever, but nevertheless I'm proud of writing it and sharing it with others.

Awakenings Review publishes stories, essays and poetry written by people suffering from mental illness/disorders. My poem is about my struggle with 4S (Selective Sound Sensitivity Disorder) or more commonly known as Misophonia. Some think the two are one and the same and others argue that they are slightly different.

I've recently learned that migraines may also be intimately involved in the disorder, perhaps even the root cause. All I know for sure is if we don't talk about it, keep it in the dark for fear of repercussions and being negatively stigmatized by the ignorant few who don't understand mental illness, we'll never progress toward a cure or at least some semblance of social acceptance. If you're interested in gaining some insight from those with mental illness or just an extremely entertaining read, here's a link to their website: http://www.awakeningsproject.org/AR/archive.shtml

SOUNDS LIKE I’M CRAZY

by Carrie Ryman

Rattle. Crunch. Squeak. Click.

Shout. Slurp. Beep. Tick.

I squeeze my ears tight.

I try to cope. I am polite.

This horror of sounds that assaults my brain,

that litters my life with torturous pain,

cannot be avoided, cannot be blocked.

The noise haunts my being like toxic shock.

Rattle. Crunch. Squeak. Click.

Shout. Slurp. Beep. Tick.

No one forgives. No one forgets.

No one restrains. No one accepts.

Lost in a nightmare of piercing air.

that destroys my peace and strips me bare.

The noise-makers think their wounded pride

is far superior to my panic inside.

Rage. Cry. Squeal. Panic.

Shudder. Slip. Beseech. Manic.

No pills to cure me. No words to ease.

And worst is my own desire to please.

No control. No answers. No way out.

No weapons. No freedom. No normal route.

One moment there is tranquility, calm.

And then the onslaught, the nightmarish sounds.

Rattle. Crunch. Squeak. Click.

Shout. Slurp. Beep. Tick.

It sounds like I’m crazy, but more is the truth:

Sanity is subjective and possessed

by the chosen few.

LocoThology is Here!

2012-10-27T10:42:00.000-05:00

I am completely jazzed to have received Loconeal Publishing's LocoThology at last. Why am I so excited about this anthology? Because I'm in it! "Dolls Are For Kids" was a blast to write, and I was thrilled when Loconeal told me they were accepting it. Check it out here; you can buy it on Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/LocoThology-Fantasy-Science-Fiction-Volume/dp/0985081740/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1351351188&sr=8-1&keywords=LocoThology

I promise you it's a worthwhile read. All the stories in this book are engaging, inventive and lovely from start to finish. I especially loved the first one, "Hot Encounter," by J.M. Odell, but I won't tell you what it's about because that will ruin the surprise revelation of the plot; don't worry, it comes within the first few pages.

Yes, it's been a rough year in more ways than one (health issues, losing our Dad, etc.). But life moves along, with its curves and dips and turns, some up, some down... and I must admit as a writer, it's been a wonderful year for me. My story, "Blue Angels," appeared in The Binnacle, published by University of Maine (http://machias.edu/need-a-copy.html), and "Strange Companions at London Zoo" will appear in Big Pulp magazine (http://exterpress.com/catalog/33) produced by Exter Press next fall or winter 2013. Yahoozie!

I've been published in several e-magazines, including Quail Belle this year, too. They featured "The Bowl" (http://www.quailbellmagazine.com/2/post/2012/09/short-story-the-bowl.html) a few months ago, and I was almost apoplectic with euphoria! And yes, fellow writers, you can be apoplectic with emotions other than anger. I was beyond myself, outside myself, overcome with pride of accomplishment. When you've written and submitted over fifty stories, received hundreds of rejections, those few acceptance letters are golden treasures of the heart.

I have to keep this short because I am still fighting with this disc and can't sit for long. I need to find one of those cool laptop pillows so I can type on my lap without straining my neck. I miss my writing, and unfortunately, extreme pain is not terribly conducive to creativity. But it's getting better after cortisone shot #2, lots of rest and careful PT. Fingers crossed, I'll be back to my world of fiction again soon.

Meanwhile, thank you Blogger.com for giving me a place to ink it up a little and keep it short.