Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A few days ago, a friend, my husband and I went to the Cantor Center at Stanford to see the art and sculpture.  There was a special exhibit of Red Horse's ledger drawings of the Battle of the Little Big Horn, and it a was a rare treat, as they have not been out of the Smithsonian archives since 1976.  They are powerful, emotional and immediate, and they show a fight of bloody, tragic porportions.  All these years later, they speak of war, eternal war, and it's great cost.

They also speak of a story that contradicts the glorification of Custer.  His plan to use Native women and children to be shields for his soldiers ushers in an era of the killing of innocents that still occurs.  Red Horse has no poems written about him, but Custer lives on in film and poetry and books, a new one out this year.

Right speech is telling not just the facts of an event, but the human cost.  Red Horse shows us both soldiers and warriors dying, blood everywhere.  But perhaps the most poignant drawing is of the horses only, a huge field of them maimed and dead.  They represent the innocent casualties of all wars, and the sight is deeply disturbing.  Through these images, Red Horse speaks to us still, righting the record, showing the pain and waste and tragedy that was the defeat of the original peoples of this country.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

What lessons I learn from interacting with my in-laws.  I'm proud of the relationships I've forged with my kids in-laws, and how much they've enriched my life.  We share the love of the grandkids, and the intensity of our good wishes for our kids.  We are very different people, and yet, without speaking of it, we make a huge right effort to ease and smooth over differences for the sake of the kids.  And gradually, over time, we've forged an alliance of good will.  We're behaving like grownups.

And when I observe myself envious or comparing attention given to me versus another, I get to work on my possessiveness and insecurity.  It arises right to the forefront.  It's a battle to be a grownup.  I struggle with ungenerous thoughts, and get to feel triumphant when I keep those thoughts to myself.  I notice they pass away swiftly now.

There ought to be a book about handling jealousy, envy and insecurity around sharing kids and grandkids.  But silently, I guess I'm writing one for myself.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My neighbor has been encouraging my husband to get back into the chorus to which they both used to belong.  She gave him an application, and this time, he sent it in!  Sometimes right speech is right voice.  I've been telling him to get out more, but now another voice saying the same thing has penetrated his consciousness.  I'm not saying he never listens to me, he often does, but this time he needed someone from the chorus to beg him to return.  I believe he has been missing singing and perhaps the hiatus was helpful in him realizing he needed to use his voice again in right singing.

It also is another lesson for me in right timing.  He is returning at his right time, not mine.  As Suzuki Roshi often said, "Don't say too late".  My sense in what needs to be done and when is pretty much irrelevant for somebody else and even myself at times.  And I hear advice from the "wrong" people all the time and listen more than I would to the "right" people.  A different voice is often just the ticket.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

One of my relatives from my first marriage has died, in Fiji, and I bought sympathy cards to send.  It takes some time to buy any card, but especially I feel it is important to choose wisely when it is a condolence message.  I don't like flowery, I don't want too much verbage, just the basics, and I would like the front of the card to be quietly beautiful.  For this card there are cultural differences that must be taken into account and also differing religions.  I want to be sensitive.

Perhaps it seems silly to be thinking so carefully about a card, but in Buddhist practice we pledge to take the utmost kindness and care in all things, including pouring tea, washing dishes, vacuuming, and sending messages.  I believe in cards, which identifies me immediately as a geezer, but what they represent to me is effort, right effort, it is called in Buddhism.

Something to hold in your hand, even a lowly card, is a token of feeling.  I appreciate it, and I think most people still do, even if they don't take the time to send one.  Cards comfort when people are far apart.  The habit may have eroded, but to a lot of us, is still appreciated.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been visiting my son, daughter-in-law and grandson and this morning, before I left for home, we were talking about how they don't want the baby to be teased and hope family doesn't not do that.  My daughter-in-law felt she was teased by her two older sisters and other family, and it hurt her.  I told her Buddhists are super careful about right speech and my teacher did not believe in teasing ever.  I said I've decided, in consultation with my present teacher, to search my intention and be aware of teasing:  the tone, the level of trust, the ability to stop it on a dime if it feels uncomfortable to the person I'm with.  Usually, I joke about myself, not others, but with my husband and best friends we have found a way to play that is not harmful.

I'm impressed by how well she articulated her concerns and made me aware of her sensitivity on this issue.  It's their baby and I follow their rules.  I'm determining to be viligant.  My father and brother practiced hurtful teasing at times, and when I noticed how it was directed at my mother, I swore not to participate at all and have been aware ever sense of the harm.  Names can hurt more than sticks and stones, and I know it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A friend sent a video of "murmering" a phenomenon of huge groups of birds who hover and move in waves over a small area of landscape.  It is fascinating to watch.  Mysterious and wonderous. 
I thought of how I'd avoided the news on my NYT homepage and opted to play the video of murmering instead.  I chose right speech (a friend sharing something going on right now in nature) versus Palin endorsing Trump or a bus tragedy.

I believe these are wholesome choices for me.  Something that connects me to the larger world in a way that displays interdependence instead of news that angers me and disturbs my morning.  I can do little or nothing with the homepage news.  But with the birds I realize this behavior has something to do with searching for food and the enormous grouping protects them from falcons.  I can think of the shrinking habitat for birds and dwindling supply of food because of it, and be active and protest our treating the planet as our possession.  Species are suffering from our carelessness.  And I can experience joy at the birds' intelligent behavior for their own survival.  They bonded, different species, to protect each other from a common enemy and find resources.  They know they are interdependent.  We have yet to learn we are interdependent with them.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday, as I opened the door to my studio, I noticed a ceramic plate my husband had given me years ago had fallen from the wall and smashed into many pieces on the cement floor.  I loved the piece, and considered it witty and fun and colorful.  I gathered the pieces, realizing it was not repairable, and when I went back in I did not mention it to him.  He would take it hard, harder than I did, and sometimes his response takes over and I am overwhelmed by his passion.  I just wanted to feel a bit sad, but not too sad, feel grateful that I'd had the plate all the years it was around, and move on. 

He takes things harder, gets very reactive, and I feel swallowed up.  Sometimes he's done that when it is my grief or disappointment or worry.  So I was silent, and am not planning on telling him about the plate anytime soon.  Things break, things change, sadness is soon over if left to sit a while.  I wish I could explain to him that I need breathing space to have my own reactions and responses, but he means well, he's just very emotional.  The pieces of the plate were taken away with the Monday garbage pickup, I'm fine now.  But I'm glad I allowed myself a breather before I tell him.  It's a pause, and it balances me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The salon yesterday was interesting.  I do believe in eliminating solitary confinement as much as possible.  Sarah Shourd was passionate and the scenes from the play powerful.  There was, of course, the intrusion of people in the audience who wanted to pontificate rather than ask questions.  After two hours of listening to Sarah, the scenes and a state senator, I was not willing to listen to self appointed "experts".  Wrong speech indeed.  But I donated to the production of the play.  I had finished "Just Mercy:  A Story of Justice and Redemption" by Bryan Stevenson, a Black lawyer advocating for those on death row in the south.  His stories touched me deeply, and I was especially disturbed by kids on death row who had been convicted at 13 or 14, the mentally ill, and the wrongful convictions, which he works to overturn and has had some success.

Prison reform is such a huge issue, and we are the country with the highest percentage of our citizens in captivity.  I feel gun control might help mitigate this, and also other facilities for the mentally ill and no death penalty for a juvenile.  I still hope that rehabilitation can be in the mix, but it has less chance with overcrowding, abuse and no transparency for what happens in the prison.  Maybe that is a place where security cameras might restain guards and inmates alike from brutality and lack of compassion.  I don't really know how to fix the system, but we need to be trying, at least.

Sarah was lucky, she was released before she went insane from solitude.  It serves no one to destroy people, their minds and hearts.  It corrupts the guards, the justice system, and the innocent families of people in prison.  I'm glad she's speaking out about her experience and grateful for Bryan Stevenson's book.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm going to a salon this afternoon for Sarah Shroud, who will speak about solitary confinement.  I know this is a cruel and unusual punishment, and I can't even imagine the horrors she underwent when confined in Iran.  But here at home, prisons abuse this practice and even among junveniles.  I want to hear her suggestions and a bit of her play written with this subject at the forefront.  My dear friends are hosting, and I am glad to support this issue.

As a child I was haunted by Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo", where the prisoners are kept on an island and apart from any human contact except abuse by guards.  The hero's indomintable spirit awed me then.  But even as a child I knew most people are broken and destroyed by such treatment.  It is unjust.  It allows for no rehabilitation or redemption.  We must treat others as human beings, not beasts, and when we do not we become beasts ourselves.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I walked the dogs in the rain this morning.  We were not alone.  We encountered several other dogs and their servants, and my dogs behaved well.  My female dog barks at dogs who are off leash.  She knows the law!  She doesn't like to be surprised either, as she is the protector, and will give one deep bark to warn off the other dogs.  When humans pay attention to her she starts "talking" to them, and that usually gets some extra attention.  Our male dog doesn't bark.  He is bonded to our female and she is his alpha.  He takes for granted she will defend him.  Also, he is amiable 24/7.  We often say he's not the brightest bulb.  She has her moods.

The female dog wants us to talk to her.  She is observant.  She sits propped up like she's human.  She stands right next to me while I'm cooking.  She gets up in bed at night while I'm reading.  Clearly she would like to be read to, but really, I must have some boundaries.  Right speech with her is talking to her.  She values that communication highly.  I'd love to hear what she'd have to say if I could understand her, but lately, I could swear she says something awfully similar to "hi" and "outside".  I know, I must be going insane, but it's a sweet insane.  It's a secret:  I have a dog that talks.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a good talk with my best friend and decided to keep my mouth shut about my granddaughter's new music tastes and issues I have recently with some friends' tone deafness to my needs.  I want to remain a grandmother who can be confided in and a friend occasionally saying "no" to plans that don't really work for me.  What a concept!

In fact, keeping my mouth shut is a policy that works very well for me.  That way I get to see how fast or if my feelings change before I upset someone else and myself.  Also, the pause gives me time for reflection and assessment.  Is the effort worth it?  In other words, is there a possibility of changing the relationship or is this the way it is?  Mostly, when I wait, I am relieved I was not impulsive.  Either I can corral my words into coherence or I've moved on.  Moving on is good. 

I'm in the position that most of my relationships are long term and of course there are going to be ups and downs and moving closer and moving away.  I'm in for the long haul.  If an issue persists, then I address it with the other, but I accept cycles among friends and relatives.  I accept it in my marriage.  Decades and decades do give me perspective.  But it helps to have a buddy to touch base with, and she rebalances me when I'm tipping over.  I may be a little teapot short and stout, but she keeps me from spilling over and draining out!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I told my granddaughter yesterday I didn't feel like shopping, after her request to go to a toy store that has Petshop toys, which she collects.  I suggested a movie or museum.  She thought about it long and hard, partially because I never refuse her plan for the day.  She has an audition this afternoon for a musical about the Adams Family, so she asked if we could watch the movie, so she could get an idea what the Adams Family was.  So that is what we did.  Then she practiced piano and did her homework, and we looked at dog videos for the remainder of the time.  I felt proud of myself for sticking to my intention and prouder still of her for graciously and tactfully adjusting to the new plan.

At the end of our time, she showed me a singer she loves, Melanie Martinez, and kept saying she had some bad words and acting nervous.  She's what I'd call a Goth-Twilight-Buffy kind of gal, with scary videos and lots of wigs and makeup and omninous lighting and scenes.  Erotic too with a boy in a bathtub.  Now I'm trying to decide whether to tell this to her parents.  She is 10 going on 16.  Someone ought to comment on what is behind the lure this singer is throwing out for preteens.  Should it be me?  I'm going to have to decide whether to tell her mom.  It's disturbing, but I remember my older daughter loving Flowers in the Attic and both daughters adoring Buffy.  Maybe there is something I don't get about this whole vampire, bloody, allure.  My daughters turned out fine.  But they did not have UTube or computers with access to music videos like this.  Now my granddaughter has an IPad Mini, and what does that allow her to see?  It's a strange new world that I don't understand. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I am in a mood.  Phone calls with friends seem unsatisfying.  I don't feel the conversations are meaningful, and I'm sure that is partly if not entirely my fault.  Why?  Because I don't really say what is on my mind, and right now it feels like I have bones to pick with two or three of my friends.  They suggest meeting, but then put it off or pick a time inconvenient to me.  They want my support but can't seem to imagine I have the need for support as well.  On Monday, I declined going to a quilt group meeting, announced only the day before.  I feel pragmatically that I am just not in their league with quilting skills, and though I've attempted to articulate that, they persist in reassuring me that's fine.  What they can't seem to hear is it's discouraging for me.  I quilt less now that I've been in that group.  I can't face it.  Also, this is a group of three widows, myself and another woman who hasn't shown up in more than a year.  Somehow I feel I'm not in the club, because my husband is still here.  They can't see any issues I might have because - bottom line - I have a husband.  I've been sympathetic and supportive for years, but now I really don't want to feel guilty.  I don't belong in the group, because I feel excluded by circumstance and certainly by skillset. 

Another woman has taken support from me without really giving back, and after several years, it's feeling pretty hollow as a relationship.  Do I discuss this with her?  It didn't work out so well in the quilt group, so I'm hesitant to attempt to clear things up.

Another friend controls the when where how of our getting together.  I accept it, but not really, because I find myself resentful.

Yeah, I'm in a mood.  Mid winter blues?  Real or imaginary?  All I know to do is wait until I see the situations more clearly or an opportunity presents itself to discuss what's happening within these friendships.  Or I get less grumpy.  In the meantime, I spend time with my baby grandson and work on my endless list of tasks.  I'm really not fit company right now.  And I know it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday my husband and I saw the film "Concussion", which exceeded our expectations and was powerful and haunting.  In the end, the NFL is compared to the tobacco companies, fighting to withhold the truth from players and fans.  Dr. Omalu's courage in speaking out against all these huge interests and monies is inspiring.  But the game goes on.  At the end of the movie I was weeping for all the damaged and destroyed families, struggling with behaviors and suffering without any help or honesty about the causation.

And then I thought of my brother, who played football in high school, was injuried repeatedly and knocked out and still put back in the game.  They were all pumped full of steroids, and their coach went on to become a famous NFL coach.  My brother began drinking as a teenager and by college time, he'd been offered over 20 football scholarships to all the best schools.  He was president of his class and had an A average and stellar test scores.  He became disillusioned with the pressure to recruit him and turned them all down.  At 16 he tried to kill himself.  He spiraled down quickly after high school and didn't get sober until in his mid thirties.  What if something was damaged in his brain by the football?  It fits.  I'll never know.

I know he carried scars from football until the day he died on his chin, knee and elsewhere.  I s the elsewhere his brain?  I am truly disturbed by the public's support of this sport, especially for children and kids whose brains are still developing until age 26.  If parents were informed and had to sign a waiver, would they?  Everyone needs to speak out.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday the delicate situation of inlaws arose, as our daughter's husband's parents are visiting.  I'm pleased to say we were careful and kind to each other and feel more and more comfortable around them.  I'm beginning to look forward to seeing them for dinner each time they come.  But this time I made more effort.  Instead of going to a restaurant, we had them here for dinner and I cooked a meal that took some time and thought.  They were very appreciative, and good will abounded.

Foremost in my mind is to treat them the way my daughter would wish, and think of her and her husband's feelings.  I want to be supportive, not tension producing.  They are amiable people, and make it easy.  We don't share interests, but that's okay.  The major interest we share is loving this young couple and wanting the absolute best for them. 

Both my husband and I felt really good afterward, and were proud of ourselves and them.  Our intentions are honorable.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Two mothers-in-law get together to take care of their grandson...No, it's not the beginning of a comedy routine.  I had been hesitant to visit while my daughter-in-law's mother was at her house helping out, but was afraid if I didn't come it would seem rude not to see her.  My son had requested I help out on the Friday when the baby isn't at the sitter's and normally he has him.  Since the mother raised three daughters, I couldn't see that she would have any trouble taking care of one 3 month old.
But when I got there I immediately knew I would be helpful, and I proceeded to hold the little guy while she brushed her teeth and so forth.  He had a great morning and we took him for a walk in the stroller, but in the afternoon he got fussy and I know I helped by walking him, holding him, and rocking him.  It took two of us to keep the day pleasant for baby.

When my daughter-in-law returned from teaching, she was exhausted and had had a parent email a complaint about a math problem, so it was great we could support her and be with her in solidarity until my son returns in two days.  And her mother was grateful and super friendly, so my doubts about horning in on her time with baby were dissolved.  I did the right thing.  And I tactfully left early this morning to drive home because my daughter-in-law's sister is flying in for the weekend to see the baby and her mother.  I disappeared before I could crowd up the scene.

Right speech and right action made me feel useful, which is what I aspire to be.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My foster granddaughter will be 11 soon and she's showing many signs of teendom:  the hard rock station she likes to listen to now, the shows she wishes she could attend with her friend, the emphasis on hair and clothes, and the shift from family to peers.  I asked her how she liked being up in the mountains after Christmas and she admitted she would rather have been home and been with friends.  I told her I remembered feeling that way and maybe soon she'd be able to stay behind with a friend's family some of the time.  Also, her family could bring a friend along.  That's what I did when my youngest by many years reached that age.  We took a friend on the trip with us.  We took one friend to Hawaii and another to Italy.  We also took a vacation to Washington, D.C. with the family of her friend.

So things are changing and I'm glad she trusts me to confide in.  My task is to be non-judgmental and empathize.  Secretly, I empathize as well with her parents, who are in for some turbulence in the coming years. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

By late afternoon yesterday my bank deposit problem was solved.  I bent over backwards to be friendly and cooperative, and probably it helped that my big lug of a husband was there this time as well.  I did not argue when they changed their story of the deposits the day before.  I had brief visions of Kafka's world, but I kept my mouth shut.  And something had changed with them as well.  They wanted to be a financial advisor to me.  I swept through that with a many thanks answer and that I'd had one for 30 years I was satisfied with.  But I took their cards and I really did feel they treated me well yesterday.

The trouble with all this stuff is I still become teary around my brother's estate.  I feel his loss and become disturbed.  I was doing a lot of silent praying and managed to appear calm.  I was suffering, but I was doing it for my kids.  It's their inheritance.  For myself, I usually have a lot more trouble speaking up and being assertive.  But all this court, bank, financial institutions, real estate business has toughened me up.  I am more assertive.  I've noticed that I am often the only really logical and pragmatic person in the room.  So I don't defer as I used to before my brother died.  I also don't let my husband take over.  It's my brother, and everything that's happened has devolved from that connection.  I have finally realized I'm better at this financial stuff than he is.  Despite myself.

I feel proud of myself and better about my bank.  I had to push to get the treatment I wanted, but I accept that.  Momentum begins with a push.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I had a problem depositing a check and when I asked the business that issued it they refused to do so.  They both said something opposed about how the check was made out.  That means either the bank or the business is lying.  They cannot both be right.  I feel squeezed and stressed.  I somehow don't expect to be lied to about how a check is written out.  I will try again today, but I'm depressed about it.  I know banks aren't really on my side and neither is any business, but I thought they had professional standards, and would not falsify their reasons for refusing to cash my check.  This quagmire is around my brother's estate.  It has been torturous to do the myriad transactions to get the estate resolved.  Every time I think the last bit is settled, a new wrinkle appears.

I feel like a victim not only because it's my brother who died and I didn't ask this to land on my shoulders but because, well, I guess I expected sympathy and reflexibility.  I expected reason and logic and truth to prevail.  What a fool I've been!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

When we awoke this morning my husband asked me what I was thinking about and I said "eyebrows".  Thus I revealed the shallow state of my mind.  The trust and long relationship causing me to state exactly what I was thinking is evident.  Sometimes I say "nothing".  My husband then proceeded to describe one of his dreams, which involved me driving at excess speed and running all the yellow lights.  That paused us both.  I am an overcautious driver and never speed.  What could it mean?
Danger? 

Then we laughed, two older people so far from pretending we are more interesting, intelligent, witty than we are that we can be transparent.  This is what a long relationship can yield:  freedom from entertaining the other or constructing false selves.  It's what those of us who stick with it gain from the effort, challenges and setbacks inherent in knowing each other a long, long time.  I have this relationship with several friends as well, and I treasure it.  I can be myself, or my non-self, as the case may be.

I don't form, shape or rehearse my discourse, I remain open and curious about what thoughts are floating through my brain.  But unattached.  These thoughts are not me. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was thrilled to get an email from an old graduate school friend who lives in Australia.  I'm proud of how we've kept in touch through over 30 years.  She sent photos of her two kids and I appreciate that she makes the time for me when she is a famous writer and has many demands on her time.  It validates our friendship and I feel her success is a joyful experience for me as well. 

I've come a long way from having feelings of envy and comparison to shaking all that heavy stuff off my back and respecting my own life and choices.  There is no perfect life, and my super successful friends have had their struggles in other ways and had to work hard to carve out their balance and enjoyment of their lives.  There is absolute no way to compare us.  As you get older you take paths and will not walk upon others.  For me the biggest choice was the Buddhist path.  And it has opened up a world of love, gratitude and appreciation.  It has given me strength to weather the storms life brings and anchored me to what is right and good.

My friends are my witnesses now, as my parents and brother are gone.  I'm proud of my friends and their support, though some of it is on the other side of the world.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I no longer make new year's resolutions.  Taking my vows twelve years ago I took on a herculean task to follow the precepts, and they are enough of a life's task.  Right speech alone, as you can see, requires dilligence, energy and perceptive intelligence.  I struggle most with this percept, as well as telling the truth, the most.  So January 1 felt like plugging away, moment by moment, to have right intention and be sensitive and careful in all my thoughts and actions.  If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.  Little by little.

Simple chores like taking down the tree and ornaments become ceremonies, when I am aware it could be my last Christmas.  Asking for help to carry the plastic bins to the basement was my right speech.  I called my younger daughter and asked her and her husband if they had some time to help, and they both came over later and made a quick dispatch of about ten bins.  I don't like to "bother" people, and accepting that my husband and I are older and can't do some of the things we used to is part of seeing "what is so".

I have my gratitude journal, which I write in before bed, and it colors my days with what is blessed in my life and appreciation for my life.  And I sleep well perhaps because of the thoughts from the journal.  Resolving to keep the journal and the precepts makes for a very full plate, and one with healthy foods on it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We spent a lot of time today on the phone with one son, who had gone to the cabin for getaway.  Unfortunately, the shower pipe broke and they had to come back today.  Nobody would, of course, answer the phone over the holiday, and it needed a plumber's skills.  We reassured him as much as we could, and I could tell he was nervous about closing up again, as something had burst in the severe cold.  We haven't had a really cold winter up there in years, and the cabin is old and delapidated.  Also, the shower is new, but hinky.  The guy who did it somehow messed up.  Hopefully it will get fixed soon.  But our son is not used to winter the way we experienced it in Colorado:  broken pipes, flooding, power lines down, pipes frozen, roofs torn off.  When you mix a lot of snow and ice, fallen trees and storms, you get:  grief.

We tried to be reassuring, but short of going up ourselves, which wouldn't do any good since we aren't plumbers, we couldn't make the cabin okay right now.  So the long drive back is being taken and they will have to find another activity for the rest of the weekend.  Hiking or skiing in the snow is not going to happen.  Our very adult, responsible and mature kids still like to touch base with us.  We ground them, and it's touching to me when they reach out for it.  It makes me feel needed and respected.  I hope it makes them reassured.