Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm tiptoeing around right speech now, as we received an offer on my brother's house last night, and I don't want this offer to fall through as the first one did.  That means being careful what I say to my realtor, who is pretty emotional and reactive, and not going along with everything she suggests either.  I was really doubtful about counteroffering, as the last time that killed the deal.  But I have, picking a mid-figure from his offer and the list price.  A lot of non-rational interactions happen over such a big deal as buying a house.  People get superstitious and their fear of such a commitment can cause a quick backing out.  I've got to soothe my realtor, praise her, and yet not encourage her to get too defensive on my behalf that she alienates the buyer.  And I am several thousand miles away, so this is tricky, must be done by phone, text and email, and there is no reading of body language or really much time to figure things out.  This buyer wanted a response within twenty four hours, which is pushing us.

I also resent having to "gear up" when I had other plans for today, it's summer outside, and the last thing I want is to stay by the phone and fax machine.  I don't want to rush or be sloppy with my language.  Yet I'm put in a box because of this house I inherited but didn't want or ask for.  A lot of stuff comes up for me to sort through.

I'll do the best I can and not beat myself up about the outcome.  I know my realtor is doing her best as well.  If I stay calm everyone benefits, but there is this tiny urge to unplug the phone and disappear from this process.  There is a falsity to this moving the chess pieces that I feel trapped by, but if I want to get free of the house, then I must play the game.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I sat down at my desk last night to address some Mother's Day cards to my friends.  I really enjoy taking the time and effort to appreciate my friends' mothering abilities and now grandmothering skills.  I learn from them.  I receive support from them.  I want them acknowledged by me as courageous and creative women who have faced and face still challenges as well as the rewards of mothering.  Each year I add a few more cards.  Gratitude is sometimes underexpressed, and I want to add my two cents to the attention they get from their kids.

Because being a mother is a search for right speech.  We want to guide but not lecture, express our love without smothering, set boundaries and limits to the purpose of  promoting the feeling of safety.  Yes, there are books out there, but real life situations sometimes fall between the cracks.  Yes, we can emulate our parents or the opposite of our parents, but how do we carve out our own vision of the parent we want to be?  Slowly, and over time, we find out what is important.  We learn when to speak up and when to stay silent.  We are masters of diplomacy.  We could march into the U.N. and tell the world a thing or two about getting along, mediating, de-escalating.  We know to put children first and protect families and give care that rises to the level of nurturing and encouragement.  We could give workshops on values and moral imperatives.  We know wrong speech harms as much or more than physical violence.  We understand healing begins with ourselves and at home.  A mother's heart is a good place to look for wisdom.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I wrote a review online for my friend's book.  So I was carefully selecting what I hoped was right speech.  I also wanted what I wrote to interest the reader and convey the tone of the book:  gentle and kindly and comforting.  Anyway, I have attempted to aid my friend in her quest for more readers of her book.  It feels great to be supporting a friend in this way.  I feel the network of beings to which I am connected, and it's a parachute that floats me in comforting happiness.  When we do things for others we so often benefit, perhaps more even, ourselves.

I'm praying for the people of Nepal and sending monetary relief.  What words?  There are none.  I hope there are many actions taken, for that is what is needed right now.  Food, shelter, medical help, transportation.  They are what needs to speak now about our concern for the Nepalese.  And we know in the turn of an instant, such devastation can visit us as well.  No one is immune to nature's moods and shifts.  We wait ourselves for the Big One. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just finished sending out an email severing my association with a Buddhist study group.  I've known these folks for twenty-five years.  But things change.  I am now nestled in my new sangha and have resources here that suit me better at this point in my life.  I also am deeply uncomfortable with the fact that our teacher drives a long distance which I feel is unwise, and though she decided over the holidays to stop driving, she changed her mind after we all expected January to be our last meeting.  I adjusted, and now find I cannot adjust back.  In the last three years I've found new teachers, a new sangha, and local resources that are inspiring.  And a new teacher embodies a fresh take on the teachings and the practice.  But how to say all this?

I kept it short and simple.  I explained briefly my reasoning, and thanked everyone profusely.  I told my teacher she guides my heart/mind.  I will always have boundless love and gratitude in my heart for her wisdom and support.  I feel like a baby bird taking off from a tree branch for the first time.  I hope I can fly or land on a soft cushion of leaves.  As long as I'm on the path I'll be okay.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm hosting a book launch party in a couple of days for a friend.  I know the book is right speech and supported her in the writing and editing.  It discusses the experiences of parenting, and has an emotional truth to it aided by poems she has selected to express the complexity of emotions that each phase of childhood engenders in the parents.  Poetry does transcend ordinary language.  It expresses what prose cannot.  Gathering together is also an act of affirming the importance of parenting and children.  It places this work squarely at at the center of our lives as it should be.  Raising the next generations is the most important task we face as humans. 

And, it truly does take a village to raise a child.  In isolation, neglect and tragedy occur.  With support and kindness, a child becomes part of a community that is healthy and nurturing.  So I'm happy to celebrate this book and its voice, one of kindness and compassion and love.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I took my granddaughter to see "Cinderella".  She enjoyed it, but did not like the prince.  She said he wasn't handsome enough, and she did not like his sideburns.  She thought he was not nearly good looking enough for the actress who played Cinderella.  She really had an aversion to him, though she liked his blue eyes.  What was this about?  She'll be ten in June.  Perhaps she is taking on a preteen attitude about which guys are "hot", or she's heard such analysis from older people, or she actually transferred herself to being Cinderella and was not attracted to him.  It was a clue to a growing up fast phenomenon.  I felt like sex was on the table.  But I had no idea how to address it.  I listened and then said in many movies one half of the couple is more attractive than the other.  She agreed grudgingly, but was still unsatisfied.  It's funny, because with her parents her mother is beautiful, and neither of her husbands was/is super handsome.  They are attractive, but not noticeably good looking.  Has she heard some talk of this?  Has she been around too much assessing of looks versus character qualities?  I had the urge to discuss what matters in a person, but it wasn't the time or place. 

But now I'm aware of perhaps an overvaluing of looks, spurred on by the culture obsessed by looks.  I, myself, do not remark on my granddaughter's beauty, but she is a redhead, and gets a lot of attention everywhere we go.  I talk about her determination, creativity and kindness.  But maybe the world does not.  How sad.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've had a week away and am the better for it.  I feel I made a right effort with everyone I encountered, and thus there is no "hangover", no nagging regret and going over and over what I said or was said to me.  I especially enjoyed talking to my granddaughter and grandsons, and the key for me was not to have expectation or a sense that something of import needed to be stated.  That made conversation relaxed, goofy and fun.  I was in observation mode, watching the kids and getting a feeling sense of who they are at this time and what is going on with them.  Their lives are complex, and I see the struggles as well as the delight.  I sent silent compassion to them.  It's not easy being a kid, but kids in joint custody have challenges.  I admire their resilience.

In fact, they act as a lesson to me.  They adjust to change much faster than I do.  Situations that would daunt me are a piece of cake for them. 

One little incident of right speech I will relate.  They received their report cards the first day we were there.  Their parents rightly praised them and shared with each other the good news.  I did not ask to see the report cards.  Of course, I would have looked if they had offered to show them.  But my message was that I was happy in their presence, and the report cards were not important to me.  This is true, but also, I want them to understand I value them as beings, not for their achievements.  I missed my granddaughter playing a piano piece at a school talent show, and I asked if she'd be willing to play it for me, and also looked at the IPhone video.  I told her how lovely it sounded.  But I didn't make a big fuss.  I'm leery of fusses.  The child often gets lost in them.  They can't accept the praise or are self critical.  I want her to know I appreciate just being with her, being in her presence.  She doesn't need tricks or great effort to get my attention.  I am focused on her completely. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We received a call yesterday from our doctor, who was checking he'd called back about a test.  He told my husband he was having a senior moment.  It was very endearing.  The admission of vulnerability, that we're all in the same boat at this age, made me trust him more, not less.  It's his humanity I want, not his fake invincibility.  He's made some mistakes in judgment over the years, but he's caring.  More importantly, I don't believe he knows everything.  I take responsibility as well.  A good heart goes a long way with me.

When someone hides their uncertainty, then I mistrust.  Because one coverup leads to another, and I've been there with doctors before.  They, at their worst, hide each other's mistakes, which means they can't change the direction of treatment without embarassment.  I know doctors didn't get here without help from lawyers and insurance entities, but, bottom line, without honesty and transparency, we find ourselves in the hands of ego driven persons who have checked their compassion at the door.  I'm too old and wise to put up with that nonsense.

So I'm happy with my doctor, and we're navigating the waters of old age together as best we can. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had the opportunity to observe myself reacting instead of responding when our daughter stopped by and was upset with something a friend had said to her.  I went all tiger mode, noticing anger arising in defense of my daughter.  I couldn't just stay calm and listen, or even say I was sorry she was shaken.  No, I had to criticize her friend.  Then she defended her friend, and we were off to the races.  I felt awful.  The only good thing I did was hug her at the end.  I went all Kamakaze.  I'll get a chance to see her for a moment today, when she drops off something, and I'll apologize, but I sure set a bad example.  Her tears undo me.  What's that about?  More bad behavior to examine.  But now I've made it harder for her to share when she's unhappy.  Because I'm fairly certain she really wanted a listener not a champion. 

Back to square one.  Caught off guard, I slip right into old patterning.  All my practice forgotten in an instant.  I wish I had a mini-me to say, shut your mouth, girl!  When in emotional turmoil, silence or at least pausing is the best policy.  Well, the best I can hope for is my bad example made my daughter determined NOT to follow in my footsteps.  I'm going to try harder not to follow in my own footsteps.  The footsteps of the Buddha, now that's a path worth taking.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This morning after meditation and a dharma talk, my friend and discussed what right speech to utilize for her to reconnect with a friend with whom she recently had a falling out.  We discussed various wordings for a short note to have the other person realize she is missed and that my friend would like to clear the air and resume the friendship.  It's an important one to her, and it's disturbing to have a rift.  I described to her how I am writing this blog and therefore thinking a lot about skillful speaking.  I'm noticing little things I used to not see.  How talking about feelings and owning my own is better speech than guessing at another's feelings, motivations or intentions.  I told her to me it's like closing or opening a door.  If you aren't careful your speech will cause a reaction that closes the door to the other person hearing you or talking with you.  You need to keep the door open if the refreshing breeze is to cool down the both of you.  Shut down or open up.  It's pretty simple, but takes a lot of awareness to know the keys to each.

I was proud that I was able to be of help and she left determined to reestablish contact with her friend.  I was, in a small way, encouraging a healing.  I like that. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I fell walking the dogs, and a kind stranger helped me up and to sit on the curb until I got my breath back.  She was wise, and insisted I rest for a few minutes.  At the end, I told her:  "Thank you for being here".  I don't believe I've ever used that phrase before, but it did seem providential that she was right there and saw me fall.  The kindness of strangers.  Such interactions cement my faith in people.  It's funny, because she and her husband (?) were taking two bundles of balloons out of their car and I was wondering if they were delivery people, because there were presents on the end of the strings.  I was distracted by the neon colors and celebratory nature of the scene.  But that is not what caused my fall.  Oh, no.  I can't get out of this one.  This morning, lazy about proper shoes because I have my hiking shoes and boots packed for our trip coming up, I put on clogs.  I've fallen once before in clogs, and got rid afterward of every pair but these.  Now I will give these away.  I kept them because I get compliments on them (vanity), they are fairly new (frugality) and because I'm a little too optimistic about my steadiness (delusion).  Granted, anyone with two 80 lb dogs pulling every which way is compromised, but that "what is so" I tend to gloss over.  Many lessons, little learned.  Luckily, I mainly scraped my knee, and no real damage was done, but falling is not good for the system.  So much for looking cute, it's solid shoes all the way for me from now on.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night we watched "Dances With Wolves" again.  I find it painful to watch, not just because of the history of the Sioux, but what always gets me is Dunbar's horse being shot, and then the wolf.  There is lots of killing in the film, but the animals disturb me.  I wanted to check that no animals had been harmed in the making, and it was so realistic at the time, that I thought of "War Horse", a movie I found so unbearable I'd never see it again.  Millions of horses were killed in World War I.  That movie makes it so that you never forget it.  I also have trouble with the plight of horses in general.  Meant to run free, they are everywhere imprisoned.  Deborah Butterfield's beautiful sculptures of horses bring me to tears.  Racing is also upsetting to me, yet I read about the Triple Crown and watch it on TV.  Somehow the animal suffering is more accessible for me. 

So what is the fascination the Sioux in the story had for Dunbar's dancing with the wolf?  This time, seeing the movie, I thought they appreciated Dunbar's sense of play and wordless joy in nature.  There are many scenes of the Indians teasing and playing, their humor at the forefront.  Yet their lives are harsh and hard.  They have kept joyfulness at the core of their being, and they recognize it in Dunbar.  They name that joy in the name they bestow upon him.  His words were measured, and he withheld the bad news about the whites coming for a long time.  They knew he had something more to add, but they waited so that he told what he needed to tell in his own time and way. 

Do we insist on hearing the whole story immediately?  Do we respect others who are not ready to reveal all?  I believe right speech requires no coerced speech.  There is a right time for some information.  It requires skill to manage information, and skill to hear it.  All of this is a delicate dance.  Let's not step on anyone's toes.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just returned from a dog walk with a good friend.  At the end of it, a man with two dogs, a doberman and a mix, walked around us and his doberman snarled and barked.  My friend and I admitted that certain breeds of dogs scare us:  dobermans, german shepherds, pit bulls and rottweilers.  Of course individual dogs of those breeds can be wonderful, but with dogs there is a hunk of instinct that survives whatever training and kind home a dog may have.  We are creatures of instinct as well, and if we've had a bad experience with a particular breed, fear arises.  But what bothered us most is something we've both encountered numerous times.  A dog owner assures us their dog is "friendly" as he is flattening his ears, his hair on his back is up, he is barking and snarling.  This seems to be in the category of "wishing makes it so".  I can see the dog is not kindly disposed to my dog, and almost any other speech would be preferable.  "Sorry" is good, as is the action of pulling the dog back and away.  Of course, many of these dog owners believe their dog needs to be off leash despite the law, because the dog is so well behaved.  An apology is the only right speech here.  Lots of luck.

What should my right speech be in this situation?  Normally, I say nothing.  The dog owner is obviously at least somewhat deluded, so what is the point?  But sometimes I say "my dogs are old" or "maybe he just doesn't like my dogs" or "he's scaring me".  Nothing is going to make a difference to the off leash dog owner.  They feel they have the inalienable right to have their dogs run free.  For leashed dogs, maybe the best comment is:  "thanks for having him leashed, I appreciate it".  It's not judgmental, and it acknowledges the attempt to be socially sensitive.  I need to work up a standard reply.  In the meantime, my old female dog barks back, defending me and the male dog.  And that worries me, because I'm afraid she'll get herself in trouble. 

Now, if the dog owner were sensitive, they'd recognize the stress they are causing.  And the terror to children of an off leash dog that gets in their faces.  But that would require mandatory dog owning training, which is so not going to happen.  I just hope to never hear again "he's friendly" when it is patently clear that such is not the case, at least at the moment the phrase is being stated.  It does not reassure.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I attended a friend's 85th birthday celebration, and it was a perfect right speech event.  She had invited all of us because she wanted to thank us for all the food, company and help she received during her recovery from knee surgery.  So it was a gratitude event.  She had food for us, and we were all connected by our right action in regards to our friend.  This made it so easy to talk to people, even if they were strangers to me, and unlike my usual shy self, I felt pretty comfortable and sure of a friendly encounter if I stood by someone.  I left feeling happy and relieved.

Social events can be marred for me when people cluster in groups and don't include strangers.  The one-upsmanship thing about how long have you known her and how close are you is maddening to me.  Some people want to know what you do, meaning how important are you.  Others need to know where you live, so they can place you.  None of that was happening yesterday.  People asked how we knew the hostess, and that was a good opener for connection and further conversation.  Little granddaughters were serving food, and they relaxed the atmosphere.  The good will was pallitable.  Right intention was set by the hostess and permeated the air, and the result was warm and loving.  Ah.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm amazed at how smoothly the writing group I'm in runs.  Right speech is so present.  Last night we took the time to talk about being blocked and intimidated about writing, and it was heartfelt and important.  One of the participants reminded me I'd not followed through on a promise to send her prompts to help her get started on writing a piece.  I had truly forgotten the minute I'd promised her, and I felt a pang for my thoughtlessness.  I had agreed many weeks ago.  But mainly, I was so grateful she trusted me enough to remind me.  Another person also wanted prompts, so this morning I've just finished sending the group 20 prompts.  It was easy for me to do:  but evidently I needed a prompt myself to get the job done.  This time I wrote a huge reminder note last night, then carried it to the computer with me this morning, determined to get the deed done before forgetfulness overcame me yet again.

And I had such fun thinking up these prompts.  It was not a task to dread, not at all.  One of my problems is I am a morning person.  I wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed, as they say, and run down like a clock throughout the day.  By evening, my promises are no good, my brain is half asleep and work does not get done.  Because this is a night group instead of daytime, which I would have preferred, I'm really not at my best.  I make it through plays and dinner parties by napping beforehand or caffeine.  I'm grateful that last night made me again aware of these personal limitations.  I can counter them, if I'm diligent.  I want to bring my best self to this group, and I fear I have not been doing that.  It's never too late, however, as Suzuki Roshi said, so armed with new resolve, I am going to listen and learn and improve with the help of my friends.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm enjoying the after effects of the retreat last weekend.  Right speech from the two lamas is buzzing around in my head, and yet, I've hardly spoken a word, so the practice is still intangible.  I found myself more compassionate even in my prayers, though.  I pray every night for my son's and daughter-in-law's unborn baby, hoping he's healthy and comfortable and knows how many people love him already.  And in doing so, I can clearly see that he's got his challenges, even right there in the cosy womb.  He's growing and changing at such a pace that all his nerves must be on high alert, and perhaps mommy eats something that disagrees with him, or a loud sound startles or he really doesn't like Beethoven.

This degree of empathy with baby is such that I think of my own birth and probable feelings beyond memory, and know that all babies have pain, confusion, and struggles.  It's a lot of work getting situated, growing by leaps and bounds, getting crowded out, then the trauma of birth.  He's got his hands full.  I feel compassion therefore for my own birth and those of every other being.  The being born is so precious and such a gift that it's worth the effort, and most babies have beings loving them and welcoming them to the world.  But I'm going to spend some time loving those ones who are not so fortunate:  those beings I may not know, but with whom I share this gift of life, and the joy of being human.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just finished a weekend retreat that was quite lovely and inspiring.  The subject was tonglen, a form of meditation where you focus on someone who is suffering, breathe in the suffering, dissolve it and then breathe out lovingkindness.  Today my brother would have been 65.  I cannot heal him or alleviate his suffering, but I pray for him with love.  One of the touching moments of the retreat was suggestions for dying.  The idea is to convey to loved ones your wishes:  maybe you want people to sing to you, or quiet or encouragement or to hold your hand.  Thinking about what you want ahead helps you and your family and friends.  It's an act of compassion for self and others. 

I will be feeling and thinking about this retreat for a long time.  I'm so happy I made the choice to attend.  I think of it as an investment in right speech.  I heard so much and had much modeling for my own life outside the sangha.  I have a lot more tools in my workbox and I plan on practicing them to become more sensitive and kind in my speech and actions.  I feel fortunate and grateful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our older son and our daughter-in-law are expecting a baby boy at the end of September.  We've been sworn to secrecy until now.  Talk about struggling with right speech!  Earlier this week my friend asked if they were going to have children and I had to beat around the bush.  Her daughter is expecting at the same time, and it was hard not to spill the beans.  I'm like my mother that way.  She would be so excited and dying to share.  She'd grown up in a family of 13, and so secrets were hard to come by.  They slept 4 to a bed in a tiny house.  Nobody had any privacy.  Her fun was all shared experience.  I must have inherited that desire, though I have no excuse.

What a relief to tell my friends and feel their happiness for the couple and the whole family.  And my joy has expanded with the telling.  Does it make the baby more real?  It certainly takes a village to raise a child, and I seem to be inviting my world to share in this event, and pray for the health of the baby and the safe delivery of this precious little being.  He has so many good wishes flying his way.  A birth is renewal and affirmation.  This gift of life is our most dear present.  We honor all life when we help the parents with this most profound of transitions. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been watching PBS' "Cancer:  Emperor of All Maladies".  I was riveted by the book, which I read after our daughter was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the six hour series does a faithful and powerful job of capturing the book.  Last night, when they were talking about palliative care, I wept as I saw the young doctor tell her patient he might consider foregoing further treatment and look for quality in the time he had left.  Talk about right speech.  How do give the truth to patients who might not wish to hear it?  She clearly fished around with her patients before she made suggestions and offered up the likely outcome.  That in itself is a gift.  Seeing the patient's reaction made me admire his courage so much.  He struggled to adjust his view of his future.  I saw that with my father, who at first could not hear his prognosis, especially as it came from me instead of his surgeon.  He had possibly 8 weeks to live.  Still he talked about visiting his brother in Florida for Christmas, and when he finally got angry, and went to his own physician, that doctor told him to go home and die.  So he had wrong speech at both extremes:  being unwilling to convey the news and being brutal in telling him what was so.

My own father's courage amazed me at the time.  He planned his own funeral, said his goodbyes, stopped eating and speaking much and died in 7 weeks.  Everything had been said and done and he knew it.  We would sit in silence as I rubbed his hands with cream.  The love was palpable, and I saw him slowly leave his body until he was gone, and I sat with him for hours after he'd been declared dead.  Ordinary people's courage is uplifting and amazing.  And so many face their fate with quiet determination to live and die with dignity. 

There are doctors who cannot face the fact of mortality, and either escape or are abrupt.  Then there are the mostly compassionate doctors and nurses who "see" the patient, allow themselves to become attached, to care, and and to grieve.  They are present, which is the greatest dignity you can bestow on a patient.  They do not turn away, or obsess about their own mortality; they keep the focus on the suffering of their charge.  That is respect.  And we all deserve it and should practice it ourselves.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night we went out to dinner for our anniversary.  I was noticing that we carefully pick topics when we're out, especially at one of those restaurants where you are close to other tables.  Some of our "safe" themes are films, books we've read, plans for a trip, and news articles that are not "hot buttons".  Our family, friends and other subjects are off limits, because we live in a small community and you never know who might be sitting next to you.  But it's kind of funny as well, because sometimes it feels like I'm in a spy movie and being sly about what I say.  Yet this is right speech, because mentioning names could hurt and people do listen.  I know because I've overheard talk myself.

I especially feel that political topics are unsafe in public.  You may very well be offending someone, and disturbing their peace.  But even so, the truth is I'm not so fiesty about most politics these days.  The whole arena is dualistic, when the problems to solve are complex.  I don't get so hot under the collar and am inclined to attempt seeing the other side's point of view as dispassionately as possible.  If there is to be dialogue and compromise and action, then there must be listening openly and fairly. 
There are urgent matters, but lots of deep breathing and equanimity will get a person further along the road to solutions.

So what we had last night was "dinner conversation".  It was pleasant, the food was excellent, the mood calm and warm.  A perfect night out or even night off from the world.