Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just returned from a walk with a friend.  We looked at a couple of streets where we normally don't walk, which is a treat for the eyes as there are so many different styles and sizes and landscaping.  With each stop we were imagining living in that particular house and what we liked and wouldn't like from what we could see from the street.  We both have old houses but were drawn to some ultra modern places, and part of that is no doubt that it would feel so different to have open space and spareness.  But we found many houses that we loved, and I say that without any sense of dissatisfaction with what we have.  Both of us will downsize when we move; we're of that age.  So our talk was a playful one, with "what ifs" and admiration without any covetness.  We are comfortable in our skin, and can enjoy excess without participating in it.   This kind of "play" talk is enjoyable and comfortable:  we are two very old friends who have watched our children grow up and fly from the nest, and we now are giving away more than we are buying.  The "wanting" things is pretty much past its pull on us.  Now we have fun.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have to go to the DMV today to fail my vision test, turn in the eye doctor's form and get another appointment for a driving test.  I'm stressed out, and gloomy.  I'm wearing a black shirt if that gives you the picture.  My husband offered to drive me there for moral support and at first I turned him down, but then thought, what the heck, I could use some moral support or tranquillizers or a new brain.  This is me accepting help:  desperation.  Now I'm superstitious about his coming:  will it be good luck or bad luck?  Will a black cat cross my path?  This is the degree of my irrationality.
I can tell myself I'll get around on buses and walk more which would be good for me.  But I want the freedom of driving myself by myself, if the truth be told.  I'll hope things go well, so that I can get all hysterical again when I have the driving test, which is long and difficult, as it ought to be.  I drive fine normally, but there are so many ways to blow the test; let me not count them lest I go ballistic.  It's a good thing to accept support, isn't it?  I'm clinging to that idea.  My character is improving even if my eyesight is not.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a teeth cleaning this morning, and though there was some pain, I thanked the hygenist after she was done.  I'm sure they don't get a lot of appreciation or gratitude, but it's not a fun job and they are very careful and kind.  Nobody wants to go to the dentist.  Yet the more I hear from friends, the more I know they keep me from false teeth and other horrors.  I also do it for my heart, as plaque is bad for the body anywhere it accumulates.  Yes, absolutely, I dread going, but I know it's the right thing to do. 
There are lots of these ordinary, mostly invisible people helping us.  They are dedicated and compassionate, and their work is essential.  I try to say hi to the garbage collectors, the postman, the bank teller, the checkout clerk.  They deserve some respect, not to be the scapegoat for someone's anger misdirected.  I wave to the flagman.  After all, is it his fault the road needs repairing and we must slow down and lose a couple of minutes?  I wave at drivers who let me in and are courteous.  I nod at drivers to don't attempt to run me over when I'm in the crosswalk. 
It's a practice.  It's gratitude.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm proud of myself over a simple thing:  I called the woman who cuts my hair and asked her if she had a cancellations for today.  Normally I would be too shy to ask.  But today I thought why not?  And sure enough she did have a time I could do.  Now this young woman is getting her engineering degree and only cuts hair on Sundays, and next Sunday is Labor Day weekend, so I admit to a bit of desperation urging me to call.  And I thought to myself, well, we've known each other for years.  I'm very fond of her, and she's not going to be offended.  It's just a glitch in me, that I have trouble asking for anything.  My younger daughter has the same shyness. 
So if it's not too late to overcome unwillingness to make dinner reservations or asking for help, and I'm trying it out.  And so far, so good.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I had fun this morning planning the baby shower she is giving for our daughter.  We enjoyed the choices we made and the menu and colors and decorations.  It's a happy occasion, and the thought of it cheered up a gray overcast morning.  And we are knitting together our long friendship by her generous act:  another milestone shared and later remembered with fondness.  We parted glowing from the planning now done and a join visualization of what needed to be accomplished and when.  This kind of speech is plain old bonding.  Generations are being formed and older ones passing.  It's the way of the world, and we are comfortable with it.  It so helps to have friends along the path side by side with you.  I'm lucky.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm having a bit of an argument with my husband over his planning.  Sometimes he says he wants to go to the cabin, but he waffles back and forth about going, and wants to reserve the right to change his mind several times.  If he takes the dogs, then I can make plans.  But he waffles on that as well, and that means I have to stay around home and cannot go see my grandson.  So today I asked him to make a decision about going or not and taking the dogs or not, so that I could make plans of my own.  In the past he has gone at the last minute and I cannot do anything with friends because its such late notice, and I end up at home reading and getting bored.
We will see if he keeps his promise to decide and stick to it this week.  He genuinely is indecisive, but it's impacting me more than is fair.  I have trouble defending myself because from his point of view I do "lots of things".  I am way more social than he, and I need to feel I'm seeing more than just him.  When he worked, it was easier to do a lot that didn't include him, but now, he resents my being away, but doesn't want to do much with me.  He's at loose ends.  I hear from friends a lot of husbands have this problem with retirement, and they don't have the habit of planning activities for themselves.  I'm sympathetic, up to a point.  And the point is right now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today a friend and I went to an art museum and had fun discussing various paintings and sculptures.  And right as we were leaving a man came up to us and asked what impressed us most and my friend talked about the Warhol paintings.  The three of us got into a lively discussion about what certain of his paintings meant to us, and he was appreciative of our perspectives.  I said most of the works were about identity and how there is a facade and then underneath, the mystery of a human being perhaps never fully grasped by another.  We are trapped in our persona and unable to be fully seen. 
It was great fun to hear him surprise us by saying he docented in the museum and his groups couldn't seem to grasp what Warhol was doing.  We were flattered.
Now I can savor the serendipity of running into him and the joy of sharing with a stranger a bit of passionate response to art.  And then there was the Agnes Martin room, which I drank in and attempted to lure my friend into appreciating as much as I do.  At least I introduced her to a fine painter.  Satisfaction!  Ah!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Buddhist teacher wrote a lovely poem about the foundation's brand new sanctuary that burned in a recent fire.  Most of the buildings are gone, and the caretakers lost their house and all their possessions.  So this place of trees and verdancy has become ashes.  His poem says to "stay with the not knowing.  Many found true freedom by surrendering to not knowing.  This is indeed an ancient secret that liberated thousands of hearts." 
We feel sadness when we don't yet know what the future will bring.  Perhaps the sanctuary will be transformed into open meadows with an abundance of wildflowers and animals with food to forage.  It will be sunny instead of shaded.  There will be tents until there are structures.  Trees will spring up and they will be surprising species.  The hillsides will be flaming with fireweed.  Our expectation is dashed, but thus it is with most expectation.  People will come together to rebuild and respect nature anew.  It was a land unownable.  It belongs to nature.  We must respectfully accept whatever nature offers us.  I have a feeling it will be spectacular.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just paid a visit to our grandson, and he's talking and scooting around and learning so much every day it is dazzling.  He can turn the light switch on when you say on and off when you say off, and say up and down and mama and daddy and more and good and any number of words.  So I can have a kind of conversation with him and he answers, with plausible intonation and great seriousness, even if I don't quite know what he's talking about.  But if you ask Book? he responds favorably and he also knows sign language for milk and done.  Quite a little verbal wizard for ten months.  I'm impressed, but then I'm over the moon for him.
Language and speech is so amazing when you see it begin and develop in a baby, and I'm around him enough to get the full effect.  I realize all over again what a gift it is and how precious.
I can't wait until he comes up with a name for me.  Our bond is being forged, and I love every minute of it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I see that in the Olympics, what little I've seen or read of it, that the opportunities present themselves for Buddha nature to shine through, and sometimes that is just what happens:  a runner helping another runner up after a fall, a teammate being gracious instead of hogging the limelight, hugs of joy for the opposite team.  The press jumps on all this, but also highlights the unsportsmanlike conduct of participants, the inappropriate comments, the fury across the face of a disappointed competitor.  In other words, business as usual.  When people describe yet another bad behavior at a wedding or funeral in an astounded tone, I usually reply:  stress brings out the best and worst in us, and the triggers are legion. 
These young people at the Olympics are no doubt drilled in their public faces, but exhaustion and disappointment can have words flying out of their mouths that are regrettable and inflamatory.  And the internet reaction is so swift that these individuals can be haunted for a long time over the impulse of a split second.  We should have compassion for them and also a sense of humor.
And for the people rising above the level and competition and combativeness, lets revel in how the best in us can inspire others and remind us we can soar in adversity, and make the experience our own.  We can model what's important, and when we do, being a human being feels like a gift and a treasure.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I have a pile of material awaiting my attention.  I want to sew a bunch of baby blankets, mostly for my daughter but also for a relative.  They call to me but not loudly enough.  One day soon I'll sit down and work like a beaver, but evidently it won't be today.  I'm restless, and getting away from the house is a siren call of a louder pitch.  When the weather is overcast I get this way.  What would I do if I lived with gray skies perpetually?  I feel I need the sunshine, even if it means fires and drought and suffering plants.  I've never lived in a cloudy climate, and my body reacts with panic when the overcast pall arrives.  It's also signaling the end of summer, which we never had here in the first place, and shorter days and too many holidays in too short a time.
I need to get in the car and wander aimlessly for a while.  By then the sun might be out and I can return home.  But the baby blankets may have to wait some more.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just wrote a difficult email to the mother of my foster granddaughter saying I wasn't available weekly to pick up the granddaughter on her short day at school.  I want to spend time with my baby grandson and help my daughter prepare for her baby, and see more of the granddaughter who is away.  I also have several trips planned and classes I want to take and some writing to do.  But what do I feel after spending ten years being dependable?  Guilty, guilty, guilty!  Now her mother has remarried and her husband has adopted the daughter and he has a dad, stepmother, mother, sisters, brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews.  She has a full family life and a rich one.  My only slot is as a kind of child care.  But she's eleven now and I'd rather do childcare for my son and daughters.  And I'm too restricted by her school schedule.
So I'm saying no.  I may need to be hospitalized, but I've done it.  It's scary!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had lunch with a friend yesterday and we discussed this feeling of hatred towards women that is in the air.  Not just the Talaban and Isis but the overstrong reactions against Hilary Clinton.  There is a backlash against women possibly determining their own lives and even running the country.  It's disorienting and disturbing.  I feel assaulted by the rhetoric and the struggle just to get equal pay for equal work and child care that is safe and adequate.  Even in this country there must be a sense that patriarchy is crumbling and a man's home is perhaps no longer going to be his castle.  What has been hidden is seeping out, and it's ugly.
As a woman I want my daughters and granddaughters to see a woman can be president.  She doesn't have to be perfect, just good enough.  It's important.  Only a man could possibly think it isn't.  I want my sons and grandsons to see a woman president.  So we can all get over it, and treat each other as equal, flawed, complex human beings. 
I don't think this is radical to hope for.  I don't care about any more lovely first ladies.  It won't do. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night our younger son called.  He's on vacation but it got interrupted because his partner's mother had a heart attack and had to undergo bypass surgery.  Near the end of the conversation he said these recent events had made them both think about keeping in touch with family and his call was prompted by needing to check in with us.  It was so sweet, and I appreciated him keeping us informed.  We've grown to love his girlfriend and feel for them both as well as all of her family.  Before the surgery, all four of her kids, their spouses and the two little grandsons were there to wish her well, and she's recovering nicely.  Family is who has her back, and I'm grateful our son and her daughter were up there and able to support her, her husband and be supported by siblings.
As we grow older we realize each time we say goodbye it might be the last time.  There is a Buddhist practice to say to each other as you part:  "We do not know if or when we might meet again."  That awareness allows us to be our best selves, not part in acrimony, and treasure what we have right when we have it.  It keeps regrets at bay.  My heart goes out to this young couple learning the lessons of change and what matters most.  Thank goodness the mother has survived, and hopefully will have many more years to enjoy her family.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I sang the "Super Trooper" Abba song to the dogs as we walked this morning.  I sang past workers, around corners so that people with little yappy dogs had warning to pull aside, I sang as I passed gardeners.  My serenade on an overcast morning to blow away the clouds.  I definitely felt better, my dogs like the silliness, and maybe, just maybe I caused a smile or two along the way.  I like the line in the song "feeling like I'm number one".  Now isn't that just as positive as it gets?!  Today's weather is our particular brand of non-summer weather that hits us until school begins, then we usually get Indian summer in September and October.  I miss the real summer of the cabin already, but in the Sierras fall will be showing it's head in cooler evenings and clouds filled with rain moving over the lake, so really, unless I want to go down south again, the hot days are over for the year.  So it's up to me to cheer myself up, singing loudly and confidently to the neighborhood, and amusing myself in the process.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took the time today to do something I normally don't:  I listened to a saleswoman about the furniture in the showroom.  My friend and I had gone in because my friend likes the type of furniture they make and I went along because it was her birthday and I wanted to accommodate what she wanted to do.  And I ended up appreciating how knowledgeable the saleswoman was and the quality of the workmanship.  I may never buy a piece, but I understand why the stuff costs what it does and the care that goes into it.  And I learned that my friend loves this furniture, and it was was a little peek into a part of who she is that I had not known.
So my patience became interest and I respected the saleswoman for her skill and tact.  A job well done observed by me and noted.  Sales work can be about passion and engagement.  And I was a witness to it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Ah, the joys of interacting with the DMV.  After having the online appointment system reject my valid driver's license number multiple times, I desperately called the 800 phone number which informed the the wait was over an hour but I could leave my number to be called back.  Now I know this is a trick.  I've tried it twice before recently and there was never a call back.  But hope springs eternal, so I recited my number and lo and behold the robot gave me an appointment time about three weeks hence.  I had to repeat the info about seven times to get the confirmation number correct, as it is 13 numbers.  Also, the robot doesn't speak clearly.  But hopefully, I have an appointment to renew my license, and when I go in an fail my eye test in the one eye, they will graciously give me an appointment for the driving test I must have every two years due to my vision problem.  I don't begrudge them the almost hour long test, because they are being careful they are not letting a elderly idiot on the road to menace other drivers.  I'm grateful they bother to give me the test and allow me to continue to drive.  But the process.  Well, the process could be easier.
So my big conversation this morning has been with a robot, but it turned out satisfactorily.  I'm on the road to renewal, it's just a long and bumpy way.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I would like to attend a memorial service for our friend, who died twenty years ago, but it falls on the weekend of my husband's birthday (a big one) and we already have reservations for ourselves and our kids and grandkids five hours away.  This echoes a dilemna that occurs each year.  For this friend died on my husband's birthday.  We are sad, we are happy.  We are conflicted.  We want to be with his widow and children, but most years we are away or have plans with our family.  My birthday is only four days after, so it is even more complex.  We never forget our friend or his untimely death, and our shock over it, but we go on making plans for celebrating.
Paradox is everpresent as I get older.  I speak joy and sadness embraces it.  I am sad but carry that sadness with me to a place of happiness.  Sadness has become my old friend.  It's there at my elbow, but companionably, and nothing I do or say is unmixed.  The fullness of life includes.  It doesn't exclude.  So I'll be there at the gravesite as I am absent, and our departed friend will be with us at the table as we toast my husband.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My two weeks up in the mountains was wonderful.  The first week it was so hot we all did very little, which is usually a boon to relaxation and the melt down that makes busy mind disappear.  I stared at the lake, walked into the cool waters for refreshment, read and gently interacted with family and friends.  Our speech was gentle as well, and we shared food and canoes and card tables and jump starting cars.  Even the intense neighbor at the end of the road was friendly and outgoing, after ten years of bristling and aggressive talk.  Now I'm back in on my home turf and attempting to keep the slightly sluggish feeling going a bit longer.  Even the cooler temperatures here are not buzzing me up.  I'm still thinking of the owl in the night near our cabin and wading into the lake one step at a time with no flinching and only a sense of comfort.
It's great to see the photos sent by family and reconnect slowly with them and friends.  But I'm going to cling to sluggy mind for as long as I can.