Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm back from a week on the east coast.  Mostly, I was careful in my speech, and felt good about myself, but at the party in celebration of our daughter's and son-in-law's wedding, I talked myself hoarse, and later my husband noted to me that when I was sitting with an African-American couple, at one point I said I had a "black thumb" when it comes to gardening.  We were discussing how none of us could get Poinsetta plants to grown the red leaves again after we planted them in the ground or a pot.  I felt mortified when my husband related my faux-pas.  I don't remember noticing any reaction from them, and I only had half a beer the whole evening, so I think I was pretty sharp.  But, lordy, lordy, how embarassing.

So now I've embarked on a campaign to not use the word "black" in it's negative connotations any more.  I can only call up, at this point in time, that phrase "black thumb".  I know I am careful about references to left being sinister, as I am left handed.  But I'm resolved that "black thumb" is out of my vocabulary from now on.  Since our language often uses "black" and "white" as synonymous with good and evil it takes some doing to eradicate the loaded phrases that come to mind, and all this proves again that pausing before speaking and being super aware of language is essential. 

I suppose out of the many words I used at the party, and all to strangers, I didn't goof up too badly.  But I'm shocked at how insidiously language can harm, and I'm going to keep on working on what comes out of my mouth as rigorously as I'm able.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Tomorrow we begin our week long trip.  I'm going to strive to be open and curious, excited about the experiences I encounter and the people.  My new son-in-law's family is very friendly, so I'm thinking it will be easy to talk to people, as it was at the wedding.  It's an opportunity for me to get to know him better and his background and attitudes.  I'm a west coaster heading to the east coast, and each time I've done this (many times as two of our kids lived in New York over a dozen years) I've noticed differences, not bad-good differences, just differences.  I'm looking forward to this shove out of my own little box into a new situation. 

I vow to listen, instead of rehearse what I'm going to say, to pause before I speak, to follow my heart-mind instead of my thinking.  I'm trying to keep my expectations tamped down, and my moment to moment consciousness in the forefront.  I'm going to be open to surprise, not looking for more evidence of opinions already formed.  The trip will be interesting if I do half of what I just said, and in that way my anticipation is a happy one.  I'm allowing myself that pleasure.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a lovely evening and tomorrow is Father's Day.  When I think of my own father, now dead for three decades, he was double barreled about speech.  He had a gift of loving speech and inspiring talk, but he had a temper and was harsh and judgmental at other times.  His sarcasm was biting, and my brother and I picked it up, to my regret.  I can usually think of a snappy comeback, but censor myself, because my father really could hurt people around him by his speech.  He was especially hard on my mother, and she fought back as best she could, but he was formidable.  Yet he had a tender side, and the problem was I never knew which speech was going to issue forth.  His mother had a sharp tongue, and he and his brother seemed to inherit it.  His father was a gentle, sweet man, and my dad and uncle could be that as well.

His speech was uncontrolled.  He just let it fly, except in business situations.  There was no pause, as I have trained myself to have.  And I don't believe he ever understood his effect on people.  Shortly before he died, he asked me if I thought he'd been harsh with my husband, and I was shocked he'd have to ask.  Yes, I said.  Yes, you have hurt him and that hurts me.  After that he tried to make amends.  Maybe if he'd had a chance to live longer he would have really transformed himself.  But he died at 65, and we didn't have time to remake our relationship.  I adored him, but had to put on mental armor to engage with him.  I miss him deeply still.  He was complex and interesting.  I never doubted his love, just his judgments.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Filtering.  Sometimes I believe this is the key to right speech.  All kinds of thoughts pop into my head, and many of those could be harmful if spoken aloud.  Worries are natural, but express them to your grown kids and you worry them, and seem to make them responsible to put things right.  A lot of what happens to us cannot be put right, it can only be faced.  Anger is best never vocalized and if examined privately can be uncovered as fear and tackled as what it truly is.  I try to watch my thoughts, let them flow by, and carefully consider what needs to be expressed aloud, then search for right words.

If I filter, the water is pure and clean, ready to drink and be absorbed.  If I don't, the words hurt and leave me with regret.  So what about spontaneity?  The more I practice right speech, the better the chances that what escapes with exuberance and anger is more a reflection from my point of view, rather than any indictment of another.  So I may, "I'm so thrilled, this means the world to me", but I'm not saying you need to line up with my feelings.  They are all my own.  And blurting out, "I feel so angry about the rudeness of that person" doesn't not result in name calling or attacking the person.

Skills.  I'm honing skills for my life among others.  I'm seeing results, but also a lot of struggle at times.  If I talk about myself, I do less harm.  If I talk about others, I'm in tricky territory.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a good phone conversation with my friend this afternoon.  We check in like teenagers, and whatever stresses and strains we are experiencing are soothed by our talking them out.  We laugh often when we might have cried, if not for each other.  We advise each other.  We share our grandchildren's adorable quotes and behaviors.  I think she makes my life more real for me.  I am more aware and awake about what is happening because of her.

A good friend is a treasure above price.  The one you can be your negative nasty self with and admit less than stellar feelings and thoughts.  The you shared on your bad days as well as your good.  The fear you name with her.  The joy, so that when something stupendous happens, you automatically pick up the phone to share it.  We are complex and messy with each other.  We contradict each other.  Sometimes we cut each other off.  It's all good.  I am completely myself, and know a kind of acceptance with her that is hard to find.  My sense of moral obligation to her friendship is steadfast.  I would do just about anything for her, and she for me.  I didn't earn this friendship.  It was a gift.  But I know it's value, and it's deep in the center of my heart.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This morning my son-in-law came over to load the wedding photos on my computer.  And he also informed me his job may be ending, due to the company that bought out the company he works for closing the sites.  So maybe he and my youngest will be moving up north, and though it's all uncertain, I was upset and trying not to jump to conclusions.  Everything changes.  And everything changes faster when you get older.  Nothing was ever certain as he hales from the east coast, but fear of separation and disruption of my life and access to my kids arose like a bat out of hell.

I like to say everything changes but bop along assuming the good stuff will continue.  Though I practice awareness of change, I don't like it any better than the next person.  But my practice at least aids me in not jumping ahead to the unknown and worrying about scenarios that have not and may never occur.  So now I'm back to enjoying a beautiful day, where three of my four kids live in my area, and not fast forwarding to everyone moving and leaving us alone.  Not likely, and if it were to happen, I can make choices like a time share where they are, moving, traveling to them often, the whole nine yards.  So I whined to myself in my head for a while, and now I'm back to earth.  An earth I love, in which I am blessed, and which though moving and changing constantly, is my beloved home.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have no idea if other people have this experience, but with my kids' spouses' parents, there is no direct communication, just messages directed through the kids.  I don't see why, if they have a question for me, they don't write or call directly, but it doesn't seem to happen.  When I contact them directly, there is no response: they answer through my kid.  This may be ediquette.  But it's strange to me.  There evidently needs to be a buffer zone.  After many years I do call or write directly my older daughter's exhusband's mother.  It's so simple and easy.  We exchange photos.  We admire our shared granddaughter.  That was my first kid to get married, so it's been like fifteen or more years.  And, of course, our kids are no longer married, but they are the parents of our beloved granddaughter.  Maybe I'm just impatient and in time I'll be able to talk directly to the other in-laws.

I'm thinking that part of this is proving to the kids how wonderful and thoughtful they are, without actually having to deal with us much.  And that could be a wise thing to do.  We're not so fabulous or interesting, after all.  It's just not really rational to me.  But hey, much in this world has the appearance to me of the non-rational, so what do I know?  Not the mores of inter in-law international cooperation, that's for sure!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just spent a weekend with my writing group, and we really let down our hair and talked.  And talked, and talked.  We were as open and transparent as we were able to be in those moments.  It felt great.  We've all known each other close to thirty years, so our trust and comfort levels are high.  We wrote about travel and what it means to us and it turned into a very interesting topic.  I'd thought we were supposed to critique each other's writing sent by email, but I was the only one who did it.  At first I felt annoyance arising, since nobody even mentioned my ten pages, but when another woman took over facilitating the weekend, spontaneously, I relaxed into it and was relieved to not be in charge (normally the woman who hosts facilitates).  I shifted with the change and was glad of it.

The amazing thing about human beings is you can learn more about them and new things and be surprised.  How delightful!  We supported each other, but also felt perfectly free to disagree and hold our points of view.  That is how comfortable we are with each other.  The woman who facilitated kept calling it a retreat, and I realized it truly was.  I was refreshed and renewed, and we came up with a tentative plan for the fall (two women were unable to join us). 

I also loved sharing the cabin again with these friends, and experiencing real summer, taking a long hike, relaxing on the deck and at the lake.  We shared the duties of cooking and cleaning seamlessly.  We are agreeable, interesting, intelligent people and there was a sense of appreciation throughout.  Now we are thinking of beginning the fall season coming to the cabin again.  That is how successful we felt the weekend was.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A cousin of mine wrote me when my brother died.  I'd stayed with her, her siblings and my aunt and uncle sometimes when I was a kid.  As an adult, I had only seen her a couple of times briefly when I was back there, the last time at a cousin's daughter's wedding.  I appreciated the note.  A few months later she emailed me, and I emailed back.  Then she called.  I talked a bit but had to leave for a doctor's appointment.  I said I'd call in a day or two, but then I thought over our conversations.  There was a great deal of medical talk about herself and her husband.  She wanted to describe selling her mother's house and how her sister took all the furniture.  It was too much information about someone I'd seen a few times as a kid.  So I changed my mind and wrote an email where I wished her good luck with the health issues, and detailed my plans for my summer, and didn't encourage a lot of back and forth.

Maybe she is lonely and for sure the health issues are depressing, and I won't cut off communication.  But I used to support an aunt for a few years, and I'm somewhat suspicious that this cousin would like monetary support.  I can't do that.  I'm retired, I have a big family, and I have tons of relatives in the Midwest.  I'm not beholden to any of them, and neither were my parents.  Yet they were generous and I have been generous, for my dearest aunt now deceased and two cousins who have been close to me right along. 

It's hard to read between the lines or know her motivation.  She sees a kinship between us, and she lost  brother several years ago.  She still has a sister and another brother.  I know she is a good person.  But she's far away and fifty some years have gone by since we were teenagers and I looked up to her and her sister.  I don't feel intimate or like relating my private feelings and life.  I have other people for that.  I'll try to email again mid-summer.  Check on her health.  But for now I'm backing off.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last week I was sitting outside waiting for a friend to pick me up when a young woman I'd been close to when she was a child walked by with her friend, whom I also used to know.  We chatted for a while and "caught up" and then my friend arrived and I asked the young woman to call me so we could have lunch.  She'd been in Southern California, then two years on the east coast farming after she graduated college. 

But yesterday, a friend of mine said this young woman had a brain tumor, and had just had surgery for it.  They think it is benign, and since she seemed fine when I talked to her, she is recovering remarkably well.  But I know she probably won't call me, and I have no way to get her cell phone without revealing who told me about the cancer. 

I'm trapped in a secret that was told to me.  I don't even know how to reach her mother any longer or exactly where she lives, though it's nearby, because she remarried and moved into his house.  I am praying for the full recovery of this young woman I knew from birth, and spent countless hours with when she was a child.  Every year on her birthday we went out to lunch and a movie.  I stopped sending gift cards after high school, as she did the teen thing of not thanking me or responding.  I emailed her once in her freshman year of college, but since then have only seen her a couple of times out walking in the neighborhood when she was home visiting her parents. 

What is right speech in this case?  I think perhaps it is letting her contact me if she wishes, but otherwise sending tonglen to her and praying.  I'm not really in her life, and I know she has great support.  I'll just be a silent witness.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's raining.  A miracle in itself.  I hope it helps the plants and trees.  When I heard it last night, I jumped out of bed and went to a window and listened to be certain.  It's a gentle rain, but the sound is definitely right speech.  It reminds me not to catastrophize (my own word) and to take each day as it comes.  Years ago my Zen teacher instructed us to avoid "always" and "never" as descriptors.  She had us saying "Up until now" instead, as in up until now I have not won the Nobel Prize in Literature.  Absolutism is depressing and restricting.  Each moment is new and alive with possibilities.  If we forget that, we fail to treasure life.

So I don't indulge in drought talk much, and though I am attempting to conserve water, I don't like to speculate on whether we might have more rain and certainly not about El Nino next fall or weather patterns.  It looks to me like weather patterns are in large part imagination.  Breaking weather patterns is also a pattern. 

Now talking about the weather as an ice breaker socially is tried and true, but it's a trope, not genuine weather interest.  It hopefully steers us toward more genuine conversations.  "How about this drought!" can only take us so far, and tells us nothing about who we are.  But what if one time, I said to you "Up until now there has been a lack of rain..."?  Wouldn't you be jolted a little teeny bit out of your asleep at the wheel brain?  Wouldn't you at least wonder who is this cockeyed optimist?  And wouldn't that be a good thing?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday my friend left me a phone message to invite me to dinner, but said to call her partner because he would be doing the cooking.  I'm shy, so it felt awkward, but I called and left a message as he didn't pick up.  I also didn't know when to come over.  Well, he didn't notice his message for hours, and when he called at dinnertime he said he was having short ribs.  He encouraged me to come and meant it, but I don't eat pork because I like pigs, and I begged off.  Something that began with me feeling uncomfortable ended up with me feeling embarrassed.  He offered to make me souffle, which mortified me, and to come for a glass of wine at least.  But I was beyond relaxing at that point, so I declined.

I feel good and bad.  I feel good that I stated I didn't eat pork.  That's big for me.  Usually I eat around whatever is served.  But if he bothered to barbeque it would have made a scene for me to not have any.  So I stood up for myself.  But I felt picky and awful.  The bad is my setting conditions on the invitation, and not being relaxed enough to adjust.  I did not come off well in my own judgment.  And I missed socializing with them.  So I punished myself.

This social engagement stuff is still tricky at times.  I flub it.  I feel like an idiot, but the invite felt off, it seemed like I was inviting myself when I had to call the partner, and then it all became so last minute going seemed like an imposition.  I know, I was way overthinking this.  I do that sometimes.  Oh, well, live and learn, and learn and learn.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had an interview with my Buddhist teacher yesterday, and his big heart caused me to feel enfolded.  What he said was simple, but so supportive of what I told him about how I was feeling.  His focus was intensely on listening to me completely.  That experience feels wonderful and is rare.  He serves as a model to me in my speech and attentiveness to others.  I cried.  Because he was so present, I was completely present.  And then his assistant talked to me for quarter of an hour afterward, and she was so helpful.  I told her my heart was broken and she reminded me that Pema Chodrun says that are heart is broken open, and from that comes true compassion.

In the late afternoon I went to a friend's open house, and I had confidence, where I am usually shy.  I sat down at a table with two men I didn't know, and they were talking about cancer and I joined the conversation.  One was a doctor and one undergoing treatment for cancer.  I talked about several books I'd read and the conference I'd just attended, and felt a real connection with them both.  When the doctor left he wished my daughter health and continued remission, and he meant it sincerely.  It was a nice brief connection.

I am keep my broken heart open, so that I may hear and see others with attention and compassion.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm trying to get my gratitude speech speeded up, so I can thank someone at the time they do something or say something I appreciate.  My lag time used to be huge, but like American Pharoah, lately I'm coming down the stretch neck and neck or way ahead even.  I'm sure my gratitude journal helps, but that still is not confronting the person directly, so that's what I'm working on.  It's getting easier, because intention makes all things better.

I thanked a bunch of people yesterday right at the time, and it felt good.  My parents taught me manners, but in other situations not as clear cut as a gift or food service, they weren't so natural with the gratitude.  My father was much better at it than my mother.  But his was lip service, and often she sewed or baked or made something or took time out for them and that effort really showed her heart.  My Dad's gratitude was part of his sociability and his work ethic.  It served his ambition.  My mother had a generous heart, and was so used to sharing with twelve siblings that it was natural to her.  I didn't inherit my dad's facility with the smooth talk, so I used to lean heavily on the showing, not saying.  But now I'm realizing that if saying is so difficult, then it is an obstacle that I want to overcome.  I'm integrating both halves of my parentage, a little late, but nevertheless, a good practice for me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just spent all day talking with an auction house about items of my brother's which I am selling.  I'm exhausted, but the two people were pleasant and the relief to have the items in their hands instead of in mine is great.  They knew how to be professional and friendly while conveying confidentiality and emanating trust.  Good job all round.

I told my son afterward that I hoped my brother enjoyed the buying and owning of these things, but my having them would not have the same effect on me, because I have no history or memories to associate with the items.  So maybe the new owners will have a thrill, as undoubtedly my brother did, and have pleasure in looking at them and using them.  I will take some of the money and donate a scholarship or something in my brother's name, perhaps something musical as he loved classical music and opera.  The items for me are painful, but a gift in his name would be a good feeling.

I cannot make my brother's gift to me into a joyous event.  I understand that he could not imagine that, as they were treasures to him.  All I can do is send them on the road to please strangers.  This is the truth.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had an interesting experience yesterday with my granddaughter.  We had gone to a toy store she loves and when we returned home she asked to go online with me and show me some of the Petshop toys.  Then she wanted to show me the videos made by kids like her.  I accepted, because I wanted to see what was so fascinating about all this.  The videos consist of little girls showing their collection or opening packages from EBay with toys they've ordered.  It was repulsive, because this is shopping drama, the complete consumer training ground.  And the only thing the girls talked about was their excitement about 3 inch plastic toys.  The chatter was indistinguishable.   I remained quiet, just listening to my granddaughter's passion for this hobby, which revolves around trading toys, shopping and being glued to inane videos.

What to do?  I may talk to her mother about this at some private time, but I don't want to argue with her about the merits of this activity.  I asked to stop after a few minutes and we played a card game and drew until I took her home.  These little girls use their mother's EBay account to buy these toys, which can be cheap but also very pricy, depending on rarity and age and condition.  But it's PLASTIC.  It seems to fuel a kind of addiction.  My Pretty Ponies of the old days is nothing to this.  Marketing and manipulation are the key components of this craze.  And the parents, I guess, see it as innocent.  I don't.

First there was Disney's deliberate marketing to toddlers with the Princesses craze.  Very successful, and now deep in our culture.  It began in 2000, and already every little girl has to be a princess, see the videos (endless), have the costumes, toys and books.  Fairies is also Disney's market.  Trying to find pjs without a Disney princess requires going online and searching high and low.  In the stores, children become walking advertisements.  This crass use of children needs to stop.  Parents need to draw a line.  Why don't they?  I suppose because their lives are run by consumerism as well, and they don't even notice.  Very sad.  Very scary.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Talk about right speech!  I was at a breast cancer conference last night with my friend who went through the treatment beginning two years ago, and hearing the courageous women speak about their struggles, fears and questions was humbling.  With so many challenges, they face their fears head on.  I felt honored to be there.  Of course I am thinking of my own daughter, facing survivorship, as they call the after the treatment part of your new life.  I want to be in solidarity with my daughter.

One woman last night talked about the hormone therapy and wept as she shared her confusion and fear about having to do it for 10 years.  It's never over.  I remember my mother and her fear of a reoccurence of her cancer.  It haunted her, though she ultimately died of a heart attack.

Thank goodness doctors are now factoring in "survivorship" and what tools women need to continue with their lives after radiation and chemo.  They still can face side effects of hormone therapy, chemo brain, burns, depression.  The fight is not over, and the whole ball game has changed.  Hearing the truth in the room was touching and inspiring.  I'm glad they have support groups and literature and doctors and nurses fighting for them.  I heard truth, and I'll never forget it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The best right speech is a friend validating and really hearing something I'm working with.  Yesterday, after a very funny Swedish movie, my friend and I had dinner together and that feeling of comfort and ease rushed over me.  I trust her.  I value her opinions.  I listen to her "take" on whatever I'm discussing.  She has been so supportive about my ceasing a Buddhist study group, and I really appreciate it because the decision was hard and groups can become like unaware families, harmful without consciousness.  Since she asks, I also realize I'm still grieving a bit for the loss of the way it once was and no longer is.  But ironically, her empathy also makes me more aware of not having that genuine listening in the group.  The "story" took over instead of a fresh look.

I love her so much just hearing her laugh during the movie was wonderful.  Her joy my joy.  I'm always willing to go out on a limb with her about films.  She has good taste and an unerring ability to find a film hidden from public view.  And she's totally convinced me about Swedish films.  They range from delightful to profound and give me a peek into another culture.

She's one of my treasures.  Without these dear friends, I cannot imagine my life.  They speak truth, and listen, and care. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I was grumpy and bored, but I did a right speech act despite myself.  When my husband asked if there was something he could do, I told him it was my problem I was bored, and I'd figure it out for myself, he needn't feel responsible in any way.  It was the truth.  I could go out, call a friend, work on a quilt, and I did none of those things.  I was out of sorts.  I forced myself to suffer, when it was entirely unnecessary, but at least I didn't even pretend it was someone else's fault.

And immediately, after absolving my poor husband of responsibility, I felt better.  I began reading a very interesting book:  "Evening Thoughts" by Thomas Berry, and my mind became engaged, and I relaxed.  I was not doing anything much by choice, and I felt a whole lot better after admitting it.  Today I have activities planned, and have walked the dogs and made a dreaded phone call about my brother's estate, so perhaps some of the irritation I was feeling yesterday was about the phone call.  It went fine, and tomorrow I will go to the business and turn in the papers and get the show on the road.

Blaming, even blaming myself, is not helpful.  But taking responsibility did have an impact.  It was practically magic!