Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, our daughter and granddaughter are on the plane for home.  We had a lovely visit, and feel so grateful to have kids who want to be with us.  Next year will be our "off" year, when they visit in-laws, but we're happy to share.  Our delightful granddaughter brought us back wood from one of our trees that was cut down.  Millions of trees in the Sierras died, and a billion in the western U.S.  It's sad and strange, but they said we have a much better view of the lake now.  Out of the bad comes good?  We have no choice anyway.  All our lives we've fought to conserve forests and nature, but the world is not on that path.  The future is bright and dark and unknown.  We try to keep our own behavior respectful and optimistic, because we love this planet and our country is so blessed with natural beauty and resources.  As a Native American, I know we are one with nature and her injuries are ours.  Let's pray more and more people see how interconnected we are.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We are in the happy circumstance of a lot of neighbor invites for the holidays.  We went to one yesterday and had fun, another is today, another tomorrow and one Monday.  We'll see friends, snack and "catch up".  This to me is the spirit of Christmas.  None of us needs a gift.  We treasure our friendships so much more.  I love to see how others' houses are decorated, and I do have a thing for Christmas trees, even fake ones.  My friend last night collects Russian ornaments, finely hand painted, and also those ornaments that are sparkling and very breakable.  They are a wonder to behold.  There is a history to each ornament and amazing craftsmanship.  I tend to homemade and soft wool felt ornaments - the nonbreakable variety, but I love to admire the elaborate ones.  They seem very special because they are so fragile.  And friendships, too, are fragile, and breakable, unless you are careful, and value the beauty you have in your hand.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The best laid plans, etc., etc.  Our older daughter went up to our cabin with our granddaughter to meet friends and the forest service had somehow decided to take down dead trees during the holidays, despite many families using their cabins then.  She couldn't get the car up our road; it was blocked.  Then the noise, now today the huge crane is at our cabin.  Also, they were all going sledding, but with the drought:  no snow.  They drove toward the pass to find some, but there was hardly any.  Now, our younger daughter, husband and son are not driving up today to meet them because the noise is likely to keep the little one from being able to nap.  She sounds cheerful, despite it all, but they head down today, a day early.  Enough is enough.  Flexibility is one goal when you parent.  I'm happy to see our kids have it in spades.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday a friend and I wandered through an art museum and nourished our souls with the creativity and beauty of the art.  There were ancient frescos from Teotijuacan, Navajo rugs, Gee's Bend quilts, and portraits of Maori chiefs from New Zealand.  Our spirits lifted the more we saw.  Clearly the antidote to the news is found in the great cultural achievements of the world.  We also discussed how our appreciation of kinds of art changes over time.  Neither of us loved sculpture when young, but now we a drawn to it.  I resisted video art for years, only to succumb with a Bill Viola show.  We both have grown fond of conceptual art as we've matured, and enjoy the intense focus it requires.  Everything changes -- and isn't that delightful!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our family had a lovely Christmas Eve and Day.  We cooked, played with the kids, sang carols until our voices gave out, ate royally and were so grateful to all be together.  We only possibly do this every other year, as there are the spouses families to share the holiday with.  The one and two year old boys enjoyed themselves, without being much interested in presents at all.  They avoided the sugar and though naptime was challenging, they managed bravely.  What one was playing with the other wanted.  Our granddaughter brushed her new doll's hair until it shone, and even got in a few licks on her own mane.  I'm wisely not getting on the scale today, and will go back to normal eating post haste.  But a glow remains.  I feel so fortunate.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We watched "Miracle on 34th Street" last night for the umpteenth time.  On my front door above the wreath I have a sign "We believe in Santa".  I put it up each year because I do believe in the spirit of generosity.  My husband and I have refined to the point we don't give each other gifts and simply enjoy thinking about others.  Most of our gifts are service - a eye exam in a friend's name.  We have a lottery for the family so I only buy for one person, and I have the time to really think about it and enjoy the surprise of the receiver.  We do make exceptions for the grandkids, but only one gift each.  Where I have the most fun is stockings.  Everything is silly, but finding cheap treats is a kick.  I went to the Dollar Tree store this year and came back with some real bargains.  We rush downstairs on Christmas morning and there is rustling and comparing and then we settle in for the presents under the tree, with eggnog to sustain us.  After is a big brunch, made by all, and a lot of football watching or taking walks around the neighborhood or playing games.  The little fellows will take naps.  Then a relaxed early dinner and trifle, our tradition.  Lots of Christmas music is played on the piano and we sing carols.  In three days!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday my younger daughter and I took her son to the zoo.  He was fascinated with, in order:  other kids, meercats, giraffes, goats, the gondola, the train ride.  He had a great day, and laughed and clapped his hands a lot.  I was enthralled with, in order:  my grandson, the warthogs, who because it was a cold day were running around like ballerinas, the giraffes, and the baboons.  One baboon was digging a hole, then a fight erupted because perhaps it didn't want to share, and then we swooped our little one year old away, saving for another day the more aggressive behaviors of our distant cousins.  Having just seen "Jane", about the chimpanzees Goodall studied, I didn't really want to be reminded of our human tendency to violence, not eradicated despite the talk of higher animals.  My grandson went home to a nap, and I home to a good book by Sebastian Berry, about the violent settling of the plains in the mid eighteen hundreds.  The fight was over land not digging holes, but was otherwise the same.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We saw the documentary "Jane" yesterday.  It was fascinating and heartbreaking.  In the end, a la the butterfly theory, you feel Goodall's presence altered what she observed about the chimpanzees.  Her great service has been to attempt to protect their habitat and save them from extinction.  And that goal she has been tirelessly working towards for twenty or thirty years.  And she was honest about her disappointment in some of the ways chimps and humans are alike.  The footage, lost for decades, was amazing.  The chimps are distinctive and as complex as we are.  And like us, they are often at the mercy of instinct instead of thoughtful choice.  But they are as capable of love and cruelty as we are.  I was touched by the story of the chimp group, and also by Goodall's story. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm upset, but it's just a tiny upset.  I ordered a stocking for my grandson quite some time ago, with his name embroidered on it.  Today I checked and they didn't have it in stock and cancelled my order without telling me.  So now it's too late to pick a different stocking and have it embroidered.  This must sound like I'm a perfectionist, but I'm not.  I just want to be informed if something goes wrong.  Yes, I can never use this company again, but somehow I doubt they care.  Will my grandson care?  At one, not hardly.  Oh, well.  Tis the time of year when little things get messed up and you wait and wait for a delivery that never comes.  A perfectly equaminious person would not have her blood pressure rise a bit.  She would see all her blessings and wonderful family and feel a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it would bring tears to her eyes.  Me, it takes a minute.  Ah, there.  All better now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We went to a friend's Hanuakuah party last night, and I made latkes with her 95 year old mother, whom I adore.  I miss no older generation, and I get myself attached to my friends' parents and feel the loss when they die.  This lady is a survivor, and sharp and funny.  We talk old movies and this time she is watching "The Crown" so we discussed the royal family.  I'd just seen "The Darkest Hour", so I was in the mood.  I told her I remembered Princess Margaret and all her love struck turmoil vaguely, though I was a child.  And I seem to remember seeing Elizabeth's coronation, though perhaps that's incorrect.  I'm not sure we had a TV then.  For this lady, as for many, the British royalty is endless entertainment.  I'm usually stuck in the colonialism fury mode, but I see why Americans like this stuff.  It's fairy tale material.  For my friend's mother, the past is where she enjoys visiting, as it represents her heyday.  And I love her hear her first hand accounts.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had our grandson over yesterday and he was full of beans!  He said the words "Here" and "Look" and walked several times.  He was highly entertained by the gardeners outside the kitchen window while he was eating, and was determined to dip his french fry in the ketchup at the lunch place where we ate.  He stared at a boy of eight or nine and swiveled his head to follow when wherever he went.  He's excellent at sound effects for trucks and cars, and happy to maneuver his push cart throughout the house.  I was happily exhausted when our daughter picked him up for his second nap, and discovered this morning I was one pound lighter.  It's WORK taking care of a one year old.  His delight in everything expands our own, and there is nothing I'd rather do than be with the grandchildren.  They are my biggest holiday blessing.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I heard from our older daughter today about her plans for the holidays and she's clear and determined about what she wants to do.  Her clarity is appreciated, and I think we all are happy to hear from her and figure out when we'll spend time with her and when she will see friends or just part of the family.  Our family sometimes is too reticent about saying what we want or need.   We love each other and don't want to hurt feelings or be pushy, so we end up being confused.  It will be a quiet Christmas for us, meaning my husband and myself, and I think we need it.  We have a lot of strum and drang to process.  I'm looking forward to seeing our whole family together, briefly, and then admiring their large networks of friends and activities.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I heard an encouraging report a couple of days ago of a friend who had a stroke and was in rehab was now home with her family.  My friend and her husband had visited her and she was so happy to be home.  I was especially happy to hear this person had been able to be at her daughter's wedding for half and hour, instead of missing it entirely.  And then this morning news that the mayor of San Francisco died last night.  He was shopping with his wife at a Safeway and had a heart attack, and the hospital couldn't save him.  He was younger by seven years than my friend who had the stroke.  Randomness is the X factor in outcomes.  We never know what will happen.  Who is saved and who is lost - a mystery.  It reminds us to live every day as if it might be our last.  And to be grateful for small mercies and large miracles, when they occur.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The opera yesterday turned out to be quite topical.  Girls of the Golden West is an ironic title, as the Gold Rush was driven by greed, misogyny and racism.  The three lead sopranos were hanged, treated badly and disillusioned in marriage.  It was no place for women.  And though the opera concentrated on the Chinese, South Americans and African Americans, the most vicious treatment was meted out to Native peoples.  I found the music and story powerful, and tears ran down my face at the end, when Josefa is hanged for defending herself against a rapist.  Blame the victim has a long tradition.  What I love about John Adams' music is the urgency, rhythm and passion.  It's music that pulls at our heartstrings.  We stayed and applauded and shouted, while many around us rushed out to get a head start on the garage line.  Their rudeness a sign of our culture.  I've got a feeling they didn't quite get the message of the story.  Or they did, and couldn't wait to get out and away from it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we go to the opera.  It's a challenge roughly equivalent to climbing Mount Everest, but without the snow.  First there is the outfit thing.  Tights, a decent dress and jacket, the shoes.  Don't forget the tickets or binoculars.  Then the traffic.  One must be a Zen master to remain present and calm.  Then the parking, of which there is none.  Then hiking many blocks in said finery to get to the opera and climbing without sherpas the many slick marble stairs to get to our section.  We buy dreadful sandwiches and potato chips because we've had to leave two hours early but still there is no time to eat at a cafe.  We read the program companionably and I head to the bathroom, and then we find our seats and get up and down up and down as others, later than us, shove through, step on our feet and coats and settle themselves in.  Although it is chilly outside, the inside is muggy with human bodies, all emitting perfumes and menthol cough drops and fiddling with cell phones.  They dare not be disconnected a moment too soon.  The lights dim.  All is forgiven.  The overture soothes and lulls us into beings willing and ready to be enchanted.  I have no doubt today, as usual, we will be.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I saw "The Darkest Hour" yesterday afternoon.  It was well made and the acting terrific, but it had some scenes that were quite smaltzsy.  Churchill was a complicated man, and that was conveyed well.  The pull of this movie, as with "Dunkirk" may be the simplicity and obviousness of the enemy.  Evil is crystal clear, but maybe only in retrospect.  We hanker for clarity when the water is muddied, as it is now in Britain and here.  Media are messing with our minds and confusing what we used to take as right or wrong.  People are being fired or resigning for actions the President is clearly guilty of.  Dictators are being threatened in language of dictators.  Racism and classism are wrapped up in flags of patriotism. 
The movie does a good job of showing that standing up to evil is sometimes the job of a bully.  But more importantly, it requires the courage to dare to fail and the resoluteness to lead.  It's lonely.  I saw today in the newspaper that an elderly couple who are Nazi hunters will be honored.  To not quit or say it's ancient history while evil sits in its suburban comfort is a lonely hard road.  You have to lead with your heart, not your head.  Very few are able to stand up and name the evil.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband has really been suffering with a cold.  He's tried everything the doctor suggested, and also my ideas, but the cough persists.  I have a deep and abiding impulse to fix things, despite the knowledge that I actually have no magical powers or tricks up my sleeve.  His coughing is keeping him from his chorus rehearsals, which he loves, and may make it difficult or impossible to attend the opera this weekend.  He doesn't have a fever, or bronchitis or a chest cough.  It's a tickle in the back of his throat.  I told him at the beginning of this a week ago that colds take 3 weeks to get over, but he's impatient and exhausted.  He doesn't want to wait that long.  This waiting thing is not something most men can tolerate.  We, as women, wait for puberty, wait for our periods, wait for the baby to be born, wait for nursing to be over, wait for the baby to sleep through the night.  Patience keeps us from useless wailing and whining.  We are better caretakers because of it, and actually, most of us are more faithful friends.  We don't let the bad patches get us down.  We hang in there.  I won't say we'd embrace the cough, but we wouldn't wonder "why me?"  Colds are not pleasant, even when not life threatening.  We are the realists.  Men are the dreamers.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm going for a walk with a friend this morning.  Her birthday is tomorrow and I'm so proud of myself for actually having her present ready to give.  Her birthday is one day off my younger daughter's, and a week from my best friend's, and in amongst holidays and preparing for holidays and I never before have gotten it together enough to honor her on the right day.  So, despite being busy and my husband having the nightmare of all colds, which means his coughing keeps me up at night, I determinedly got just the book I wanted, wrapped it, and signed a card.  It's the little things, isn't it?!  As we get older, it seems somehow more important to honor the natal day.  This person has been special in my life for over thirty years.  We've shared playdates, joys, sorrows and the bumpy ride of life, each having the other's back.  She's a treasure to me, and I want her to know it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had some gusty winds yesterday and last night.  It makes us here fearful of fire, and today we learned there is a fire in the southern part of the state.  I didn't see any trees fallen when I went out this morning, at least.  Strange days!  Very apocalyptic.  The news is to be avoided and it seems like every grown man has been inappropriate and who knows what else.  I saw a vicious cartoon in the newspaper implying that some women must be lying, because everyone lies.  But did he mean from the male point of view?  I believe so.  Mars and Venus indeed. 
I played Christmas music in the car and shopped for holiday gifts.  I'd just had a CT scan and was determined to be upbeat the rest of the day.  I have so many blessings it's easy to avoid the ugly atmosphere, though not entirely.  As I was waiting in line to pay for some items, the woman in front of me asked the clerk about the shooting last night in the parking lot.  He said no employees had been injured, and she retorted it was why she didn't shop at night.  So I learned of the danger of being a grandma shopping after five pm.  And our President wants conceal and carry everywhere - an equal opportunity bloodbath!  Ah, it's hard to avoid the mayhem in our current culture.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I saw "Three Billboards in Ebbing, Missouri" yesterday afternoon with a friend.  I was disappointed in the film, but really enjoyed the acting performances.  Frances McGormand, Woody Harrelson, Sam Rockwell stood out as complex, contradictory people.  They weren't cyphers for anything.  But the men in the audience laughed too long and too hard, and it disturbed me.  There was some message they thought they were getting that diminished the horror of the grief portrayed in the film.  One other time I remember, when I saw "Monster" starring Charlize Theron, a man keep laughing and being delighted by the murder of women by a woman, and I then thought this movie allows misogyny to be encouraged.  And something about the movie yesterday allowed men to make fun of rape and murder and racism, in a way that seemed complicit.  No women laughed.  This might not have been a failure of the filmmaker but rather a statement of the culture at this time, as my friend suggested.  But coupled with derogatory labels for women flung around, it makes fun of the rape and murder of women every day almost every hour.  I couldn't stomach it.  Don't add fuel to the fire by your word choice.  I believe this film might have been edited in a way that addressed the issues more directly so that the audience cannot get sidetracked by outrageous quips and sudden twists in the plot.  And then, perhaps, the film would better honor the characters it created.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband is still asleep, trying to fight off a cold and cough.  He really had trouble last night, until I suggested he use three pillows under his head.  He probably picked it up on the plane or at his chorus rehearsal.  He loves to sing, but unfortunately he now gets these chronic tickle coughs when he does so.  It's very frustrating for him.  Not much you can do with hundreds of open mouths spraying all around you.  It's kind of like the movie "Outbreak" with the scene in the movie theater.  I'm afraid we're at an age when the things we most love are becoming difficult to do.  I get knee twinges when I carry around my grandsons, he gets the cough when he sings.  We're not as hearty as we were.  Accepting this aging is difficult, even though we all joke about it.  As my Zen teacher used to say:  "Old age is not for sissies".  Yet it brings many blessings as well, such as clarity, a modicum of wisdom, and delightful grandchildren.  Life, as usual, is more complex than it at first seems.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I feel kind of disconnected.  Partially, because I've been away from home so much, and also because my worry for our daughter feels isolating.  I'm trying to remedy the situation by seeing friends one at a time in the next few days.  But as my husband said to our doctor, he was not depressed but sad and stunned.  When an illness hits a family there is shock and an inability to immediately adjust.  We are praying and fighting and worried and without enough information to feel either hopeful or take action.  This is the waiting period.  She's tolerating the treatments, now to see if they are working.  For her it must be much the same only more so.  She's going on about her life, but underneath is the unknown.  She's brave and fierce, and her strength will help.  We only have to emulate her.  And keep connected to everyone who wishes us well and supports us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a nice a walk with a friend this morning and we talked enthusiastically about a book we'd both read:  Good morning, Midnight.  It's a science fiction book with a big heart and choc a block with surprises.  It's a joy to read and even more to think of it after.  To tell the plot might spoil the pleasure of reading it.  Like a lot of good things, I came upon it by accident on a table of not-so-new paperbacks in a bookstore where my older daughter lives.  The treasures we find!  I may have to buy it again, as I've given it to the friend and now her husband is reading it.  The day is sunny today, I've done some online shopping tasks, I've talked with a few friends and made plans to see a few others.  I'm less tired and more optimistic.  Funny how that works!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I did our annual physicals this morning, but I'm not done.  I have to get a CT scan to check on my kidney stones.  My kind doctor spent a lot of time reassuring me about our daughter's cancer.  I appreciate it, because he is great at empathizing.  He offered anti-depressants as well.  I said I had my practice.  We had a lovely time for a week with our daughter, granddaughter and other kids and another grandson.  My daughter has lost her hair, but is gallant and energetic most of the time.  She is working and socializing and living her life passionately, as she has always done.  I will try to emulate her.  The holiday season is upon us, and I mailed holiday outfits to two grandchildren and a gift for my best friend's birthday today.  Next I will tackle Hanukkah and then Christmas.  In between is our younger daughter's birthday, our granddaughter's dad's birthday and another close friend's birthday.  Plenty to keep me busy and engaged and then there is the Christmas music, which I have on my radio in the car.  My granddaughter and I sang carols whenever we were in the car when we were together.  Fun!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

So we did see the opera Manon yesterday and it did pull me away from my worries.  I was too busy feeling sorry for the terrible costume they put the soprano in during act two.  It was a kind of velour or plush gigantic bath towel which made her look like an overstuffed sofa, though it was a lovely shade of pale lilac.  They could have searched the world over and not found anything more hideous and unflattering.  And yet, the voices and music were sublime, and what could one think but that a heavenly being had gifted these two singers with angels' voices.  The silly plot was forgotten, the fact that Manon was an idiot, the implausible death scene, the strange sets and use of party balloons; all was forgiven.  I shouted Brava, Bravo and clapped until my arms were hurting.  The beauty of the sound was hopeful.  After all, if humans can sing like that, anything is possible.  We might cure cancer if our souls reach high enough.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

When you're worried about something, at least when I am, I clam up after the initial reaction.  Anything I say out loud seems old and trite and without feeling.  There is a numbness.  Now that lack of speaking is depression, but it is my inclination.  I've been over and over the issue in my head, and laid awake in the middle of the night spinning the information around and around.  I'm tired of it.  Such is my state of mind or speech right now.  I don't want to discuss our daughter's condition, but nothing else seems worth discussing instead.  So I withdraw.  I can see this.  But maybe I need to withdraw.  Take a break.  Just wash the dishes, do the laundry, take out the trash.  These are comforting, mundane tasks.  The day is beautiful and we are going to an opera this afternoon, which I welcome as a distraction, and there will be the music, the melodrama, the lights, sets, costumes and the sublime voices.  An afternoon outside of myself and my own drama.  I look forward to it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My cousin just sent me a youtube video of a silly song he likes.  His father just died, and I'm worried about my daughter, but life goes on, and we grab the joy as well as swim through the sorrow.  Life is a gift, and he hasn't forgotten that, and neither have I.  We love and when we do we are vulnerable, fragile as newborn babies.  Love means loss at times, and hollow spots in our insides.  But that's okay.  There are so many memories tucked away in there as well, and we can visit and revisit them whenever we want.  My cousin is an enthusiast, and I am as well.  I've tried to guide my kids to the amazing blessings of life, and I'd say I succeeded.  Treasuring our humanity is important.  So it comes with a few hitches.  Life is still wondrous, surprising and a most glorious gift.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had heavy rain all night without letup, and my husband suggested we leave the window open so we could hear it.  It was both comforting, as we always fear drought here, and disconcerting.  Kind of like my feelings right now.  A jumble.  This morning I go to the eye doctor's, which makes me jumpy.  Then this afternoon the therapist, whom I seldom see but need while our daughter is struggling with treatment and her diagnosis.  I know the only person who can keep me balanced is myself, but she has known me for fifteen years, so her empathy is a touchstone for me.  A few days ago was the anniversary of my mother's death, and this time of year is hard for me anyway.  And my daughter struggling with cancer brings me back to my mother's cancer when she was 34 and I was barely 14 and my brother 11.  Nobody had ever lived with that type of brain cancer, but they tried a new chemo concoction, and she survived, and when she died many years later it was a heart attack, not the cancer returning.  But I'm thinking of the terrible lack of support my brother and I had, as we had just moved across the country and knew no one.  There was no one to talk to.  My granddaughter has a large support system, and people to talk with.  But my heart knows the confusion and fear that a child faces with a sick parent.  Rain without letup.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The last two weeks have been tumultuous.  We've been helping our older daughter through brain radiation, supporting her and our granddaughter, and in a constant state of "Don't Know".  This will continue when she begins her chemo, and her future uncertain.  Though I know everybody's future is uncertain, or certain, if you will, my hopes for her long life and lack of suffering can't help but surface.  Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, well, actually I wake up every night in the middle of the night, and I don't remember my daughter has this diagnosis hanging over her for a minute.  Then I remember.  How is it for her?  Unbearable at times, I assume.  She is being brave and positive most of the time, and going about her work, and parenting and relationships as best she can.  She is asking for help when she needs it.  Her courage fires up my own.
I lost a dear friend last week as well and an Uncle.  What an autumnal season this truly is.  My sadness is flowing freely and yet also my gratitude for having these dear ones in my life and the lessons they have taught and our teaching me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My thinking is getting skewered because of worry about our daughter.  Today the next door neighbor had a hot tub put in and used our steps to have the people carry it up.  I snapped at one guy because he was coming through our gate.  I told him they weren't supposed to be in that area.  It turns out he was just handing flats up to the others.  Our sun room is right there and on that side it's a wall of glass.  Also the two big trucks were covering our driveway.  Any little thing shakes me.  I need to be careful I don't act unkindly to others because I'm stressed.  I see some anger in myself.  Anger that our daughter has this disease and has to go through these treatments.  A sense of unfairness arises, even though I know disease isn't fair.  Why her?  These thoughts are not helpful to me or her.  So I want to monitor my thinking and be sure I'm responding not being reactive.  My mind and behavior will have a negative impact if I don't watch it.  I need my heart generosity to be active, and keep with "Don't know".  Let me be especially kind right now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went with my younger daughter, son-in-law, grandson, and other grandparents, my brand new daughter-in-law and their dog (dressed as batman) to a little Halloween parade nearby, and it was sweet seeing the tiny ones all dressed up as zebras, princesses, Dory, unicorns etc.  Our little guy was Curious George, and his daddy was the man in the yellow hat.  Our daughter was a banana.  I wore a hat that was a birthday cake with candles, and the the kids seemed to love it.  I got it from my brother many years ago.  Children love transformation, and pretending to be something or someone else is magical to them.  Halloween is my favorite holiday:  no presents to buy, scary and joyful, visiting neighbors and giving the gift of candy as they brave ringing the doorbell.  It's simple and really focused on children, unlike most of the other holidays, which can get exhausting, greedy, and cost an arm and a leg.  I'll miss the actual night, so this was a treat for me!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I felt numb with despair.  Part of me knew my daughter will survive, but last night I wanted more.  I wanted her to not have pain or terror or interruption of her life.  I felt greedy.  I thought I should call my friend, but I was too dark to speak to anyone.  Today I am packing up for our trip to our daughter, and kept myself busy all morning with that and laundry.  I am reading the Chernov biography of Ulysees S. Grant, and his trials and tribulations remind me we can do great things with the tools and limitations we have.  He struggled, and he was kind and brave and determined.  People's lives are messy, and full of setbacks, hardships and challenges.  Otherwise, we'd be cows, and then we'd be hamburger, so really there is not a lot of choice.  Being human means suffering.  The trick is to avoid as much as possible blinding ourselves to the beautiful moments in amongst the suffering.  Birds are singing, squirrels are digging holes in my succulents, I'm feeling the joy of walking without my knee being sore.  It's ALL happening.  And it is for my daughter as well and my granddaughter.  They are not diminished by this challenge.  They are not less.  They are stronger and more appreciative and more loving and kinder.  It's not easy, but it's rich, this life we are given.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our daughter will begin brain radiation, perhaps today.  So much sudden shock and now galvanizing ourselves for this big fight.  We have the prayers of many friends and family, and she will do this, I know.  But the cost is high, and as her mother I hate that she has to pay it.  She will do it not only for herself but her daughter.  I'm going to be praying that a new treatment will give her lots more time and I know many good people are passionate about curing this disease.  I've been going to breast cancer symposiums with a friend who is a breast cancer survivor for four years, and a lot of people care.  I have friends who are long term survivors.  I've witnessed and supported many.  Now it's my turn to accept support from my friends.  I am deeply grateful for their love.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our daughter received more bad news about tests, and we cried.  But we are fighting.  She is going to get a treatment that works and keeps her life rich and rewarding, as it is now.  She is a warrior.  I have to be a warrior as well.  We want to be strong for her and our granddaughter, and fight for the future and treasure every moment along the way.  I have no more to say.  I am in battle mode.  We will get the help she needs and the care she deserves. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I believe a lot of people have been pausing in sadness to now witness the "Me, too" phenomenon and reflect back on the public's and Congress' treatment of Anita Hill.  She gave right speech and right witness, and was rejected and reviled for it.  Is there any clearer statement of lack of support for women?  The man she accused is on the United States Supreme Court.  So many of us believed her back then and yet a woman's word against a man's is seldom supported.  She was humiliated.  And not because men don't do those things but because we somehow don't think their actions are important or impactful.  We now have right speech in numbers, but even during those hearings there were other women at the ready to corroborate her testimony, but they weren't called.  A dozen women, a hundred, a thousand cannot stand against a man of power and connections.  What are we showing our daughters and granddaughters?  That right speech in the mouths of women is not heard?  Will "Me, too" change anything?  I wonder.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I took a walk around a nearby reservoir this morning, and we felt pretty good after.  My husband stopped going when our two dogs got old, and I worry about him not getting enough exercise, so I thought I was encouraging him.  But with my walking sticks I made it around fine, and proved I could do heartier walking myself, and what better place than where there is blue water and birds to admire?  Why haven't I done this myself was the question I came away with.  I think I lost confidence with all my knee and hip aches and pains, and thought I was more delicate than I actually am.  Now I want to go every morning out there or somewhere, and get my fitness level up.  Pushing the stroller for the grandson has helped in a subtle way, and he keeps me active.  I don't want to lose mobility, and if I put matter over mind, I can enjoy these fall days and the boost the walking provides.  So I guess I wasn't fixing my husband after all, I was fixing myself.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I am seeing my foster granddaughter later this morning.  I didn't see her the entire summer, but for good reason:  she was super busy with camps, activities and family trips.  She's in junior high now, and a cheerleader, and trains rabbits for 4H.  Her family has knitted around her and become stable and happy.  But she reached out to me, and I will never ignore that gesture.  She's twelve going on twenty one, so it's a bit disconcerting.  We used to do little girl stuff, and now I'm often at a loss.  If there is no film we can got to, it usually ends up we shop.  But the important thing is we "catch up", and our connection is unbroken.  She's taller than I am now, and heartbreakingly beautiful.  She has confidence and poise, and retains her tender heart.  Her love of all animals is one thing that bonds us.  I'm sure we'll have a meaningful time this morning.  And I have the gift of witnessing her growth into an amazing young woman.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I hope our daughter has a good weekend.  She and we are awaiting results of more tests, and it's best not to wait, but get on with our lives and not tackle phantoms when we will know soon a course of treatment that is specific and doable.  Her life is rich and full of love and friendship, and I hope she enjoys everything one day at a time.  Let her weekend be beautiful and filled with laughter and beauty and love.  Speculation is fruitless and depressing.  Whatever will be will be.  My mother used to love that song Doris Day sang:  "Que cera, cera".  The future's not ours to see.  No, and that is not where we should be directing our minds.  Here and now.  Here and now.  Right now is complicated enough, and rich enough and full of happiness and pain, mixed up in the shimmering fountain of life.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today our little grandson was over, and he fought the good fight about taking a nap, but when he awoke, he was happy and curious and we took him out for lunch and a dozen people came over to talk to him as he ate sideways in the high chair.  He smiled, he made their day, and he was gracious.  We heard a white bearded man say his kids hadn't had kids, and I said it's never too late, and he said oh yes it is.  They're in their sixties!  Women fawned over him.  He left in triumph an hour later having eaten a pickle, a lot of bread, chicken, a sqeezie veggie thing, and assorted crackers.  I cleaned up the mess at his feet and we returned home to listen to the Old MacDonald puzzle that drives us crazy, read the same book ten times, race cars and pretend we were sipping tea.  His new thing is pointing his right index finger.  He's a genius.  Or at least highly entertaining.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our beloved older daughter has had a return of her cancer and we are all struggling with what it means and what will happen.  The biopsy showed one small tumor, so if the test coming up show no other sites, we're hoping this will be swiftly and easily treated.  But it's agony to think she is going through this again after only four years, and our granddaughter is upset.  We are all stunned, and our daughter has a new job she adores, a new boyfriend, and so many plans, and we want all those plans to happen.  She heard this news on her birthday, and as she is a warrior, she was brave.  "Don't know" is a mantra of mine, so I'm practicing it:  no anticipation of what will be, just one day at a time.  But I know not only is she a fighter, but our whole family will fight with and for her.  She's our Wonder Woman.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm attempting to get back into the blog, after our dog dying suddenly, a wedding, fires threatening our older son's house, and other monkey wrenches thrown up in the air.  The wedding was beautiful, and I believe the couple was thrilled.  They are off on their honeymoon now, and hopefully blissful and rested.  Our guests are departed, our ordinary lives perhaps about to resume.  Or not.  We both miss our dog, and we are exhausted.  We are babysitting our grandson this week as his nanny is on vacation, and he's probably the best tonic.  We take him to the park and watch him watch the older children and play with trucks and walkers.  He loves wheels and pushing toys and can stand and walk holding onto a toy.  The wheels are churning his his rapidly growing brain.  He also has a new interest in being read to and is mimicing us in a delightful way.  He grounds us.  Our time with him is all about the simple and necessary.  Bigger issues must be put aside.  And that allows us to slowly absorb all that has happened in the last two weeks.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We took our dog in early for boarding, as she is uncomfortable.  We are at the stage of attempting to determine when she is so uncomfortable that she hasn't quality of life.  So far she seems okay, but she is restless at night and we had to give her more medication and then she was woosy.  At least she'll rest completely at the vet and not get overexcited and hurt herself.  But we know now that any day may be the day when the balance shifts and it's time to let her go.  This is happening while we prepare for the wedding and pick up guests, and we need our focus to be on our son.  But we're holding our dog in our hearts at the same time, and are torn.  I'm grateful she has had a long and good life.  She has been a great dog and an important part of our family.  Sigh.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading a memoir by Alice Waters that a friend lent me.  I want something far removed from this violent, harmful culture that we live in, and from the senseless deaths in Las Vegas and the impotent posturing in Washington, D.C.  This is about food and the love of creating meals for family and friends, and she is one year older than me, lives in my town and went to my University.  I want a respite from the darker side of humans.  She was an ordinary girl in every way, and she became extraordinary by luck, chance and grit.  I like the stories of ordinary heroes.  There are many all around us, and some them saved others in Las Vegas.  Ordinary is real, good and possible.  We don't need fame and attention like the President seems to, we just do the right thing, big and little, one moment at a time.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm jumpy!  I tend to have the delusion I'm responsible for everyone and everything, so the wedding coming up makes me wonder who wants to see who, what I should suggest and what I can do to facilitate a harmonious event.  Now, I'm not even the bride's mother, but I have the jitters.  I am also feeling this overwhelming need to protect, amplified by the horror in Las Vegas.  I want everyone safe and happy and yet, the world being what it is, darkness is always just on the edge of the horizon.  I remember when our older son married, it was ten days after 9/11, and we debated whether to cancel, or how it would impact travel, etc.  The consensus was to go ahead, and we did, but it was bittersweet.  Yet many guests told me they "needed" this joyful event to counter what had just happened.  Now there is this cloud of hurricanes, earthquakes and human malevolence in the air, yet we will be by the sparkling ocean celebrating two people joining their lives together.  Paradoxical, magical, touching and brave.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

One thing I love about mystery series is how comfortable they can make you feel, like warm toasty slippers on a cold day.  I love the development of the main characters over a series of books, and how there are surprising discoveries even for a character you think you know, partly because no one is totally consistent, and also because it forces you not to become too complacent as a reader.  I finished Louise Penny's new book a month ago, and discovered after all this time, I don't really like her main character, Inspector Gamache.  That's okay, she has a large cast, but something that had been nagging me throughout the books came to the forefront in this one:  he's too rigid, and too bound by a moral standard that seems false or the result of inordinate pride.  He's tender hearted, so I appreciate that quality even more, but he irritates me as well.  And now I'm reading Craig Johnson's newest mystery about Walt Longmire, and all of a sudden, we get a picture of him when he was very young and first married, as well as the present older man thinking of retiring.  It's refreshing, and fleshes out his portrait in ways that expand the character interestingly. 
Well, I suppose in real life the same thing happens.  You think you know a friend, and they surprise you, or your feelings transform as time goes on.  We are not static; we are dynamic, changing beings and must be reckoned with again and again.  In great fiction, the characters are that fully human.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I babysat my younger grandson yesterday then Facetimed with the older this morning, so I've had my grandparent hit.  In five days the granddaughter comes with my daughter, and the whole family will be mingling for our younger son's wedding.  We're cleaning like crazy today, and hoping what we fix stays nice until our guests arrive.  This is the time for me when expectation can wire me up, and then I become over sensitive and get my feelings hurt, so I'm hoping to buck that pattern and just enjoy whatever happens.  I know I'm thrilled with the couple getting married.  They are well suited for each other.  My test?  If there is more energy in the room when they are together rather than less.  They are full of plans and hopes and dreams, as they should be.  I think back to when I married my husband 43 years ago and I can still feel the exuberance.  As Margo Channing would say, it's been a bumpy ride, but I wouldn't change it for anything.  I wish the same for these two lovebirds.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I and two friends went to a presentation last night about a trip the four of us hope to take in the spring to the Galapagos.  We were pleasantly surprised by the commitment the company has to using local people and resources wherever the go, and their foundation, which puts money back into small businesses, relief and other aids to these places.  65 cents of every dollar the company receives goes back to the local economy.  The guides are local, and invite you to really learn about and meet the people who live there.  And the cost was low.  No fancy frills on these trips, but the attention to details and care they take impressed me.  So maybe we will not be tourists in the usual sense, but travelers with respect for the places we visit.  We felt excited coming home after, and like it makes sense to support this company that tries not to be invasive, but cross cultural instead.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had my little getaway with my friend, and though it was slightly less that 23 hours, it felt like a relaxing, renewing time.  We swam, wrote, went to a bookstore and shoestore, ate a lovely lunch and dinner at the club, explored the architechture, and she played on two different grand pianos while I was her sole audience.  We really had fun.  We had two swims and she taught me some of the water aerobics she'd learned at the Y.  But mainly we reconnected, listened to each other, and enjoyed each other's company.  This retreat will stand me in good stead as the wedding festivities come up next week.  I feel reenergized.  We were careful in our speech, and it made the time together dear.  The effort and the risk was worth it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had to take in our elderly dog this morning.  She couldn't walk and wouldn't eat and cried out in pain.  She's there overnight tonight, and is having a pain shot and complete rest.  Each time we bring her in now we're afraid she won't come back home.  Our vet is such a compassionate and tactful doctor, and talks about the balance of her quality of life versus her pain.  He rules out surgery and invasive procedures, because she's at the end of her life.  But he makes us feel that he's giving us the truth and not sugar coating what is happening with her, so he's her advocate mainly.  We'll see if upping the dose of her pain and inflamation meds will help.  If not, it may be time to let her go.  Tough decisions, but we have a partner at our back:  our vet.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finally finished a wedding quilt for our younger son and his fiancee, who are marrying in two weeks.  It's very imperfect, and the stitches are uneven, but it was made with love.  I remember when I was sewing my rakasu, and the sewing teacher at the zen center said it was meant to be not perfect, but rocky and uneven as the path we tread.  I had just struggled with learning about my macular degeneration, and I knew whatever I continued to do visually would be not as elegant as before.  Not that I was ever an amazing seamstress.  That was my mother.  I was a very sloppy imitator, but I inherited the love of making things with my hands.  It gives me such pleasure.  So I sew away, not oblivious to my lack of skill, but despite it.  And I believe my kids have appreciated the effort, if not the result.  A blanket made with love:  I've sewed one for each of the kids now, and they have their own families, and their own meaningful objects.  But the gift of it has been rewarding for me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We watched the DVD of Wonder Woman last night, and I had tears in my eyes, as I did both times I saw it in the movie theater.  The truth of politics and posturing, the cost on ordinary men, women and children, the outsized egos and careless games the people with power play:  these reminded me of the fear of each of us about North Korea and how people can drag us into danger and death without any appreciation for a value of life.  Wonder Woman's faith in humans, at least some of them, and her belief in love, could not be more Buddha-like.  We see the world as it is, but we choose love and compassion, not despair and anger.  I hope some of our politicians can rise above greed and hunger for power and stand for us, like the NFL players today.  The truth is we must love our country while seeing the racial and gender inequities that affect us every day.  Stand with love and solidarity with all people and against destruction and nihilism.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We never watch the news, but last night we caught the end of the Newshour, and Shields and Brooks were discussing the possibility of Trump going to war over North Korea.  They were so depressed that fear shot up in me like a rocket.  We are in this netherland where a lot of us are waiting for something to cause Trump to resign before he triggers an apocalypse.  We petition, call our representatives, march, but yet, there seems to be nothing that stops or moderates his behavior.  I'm up to date, but I'm wondering what good it does.  The left watches its news and the right theirs, and a lot of people in between are just making up news like a children's fairy tale.  In the meantime, Trump is changing our lives in many ways:  from campus rape to health to immigrant status to a free for all on Wall Street to climate protection rollbacks.  Great damage has been done, and we will be, for the foreseeable future, repairing, not moving ahead, just like the hurricane and earthquake victims.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

A few years ago our neighbor asked to move a hot tub on our side of our house and if it wrecked our camelias and other landscaping, she would pay for it.  I said I had to think it over, as that is where our sunroom is and the wall is all windows.  I could see the glass crashing in.  She was offended that I didn't say yes instantly, and she ended up having it moved on the other side of her house.  Fast forward to two days ago, and her husband comes over and needs the NEW hot tub moved to their back patio and asks if he can bring it up our steps, but then get it up his own steps to the back.  We said yes.  The first request came like a demand, and this time it was more thoughtful and reasonable and didn't involve destroying our landscaping.  Now there still could end up being damage, even in this scenario, but the tone of the asking made all the difference.  Talk about right speech.  The wife demands, the husband is friendly and low key.  I imagine he has to mediate his wife's impulsiveness fairly often.  And I don't think she has a clue how she comes off.  But we try to be reasonable, and work with them when we can.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Fiery rhetoric from our President!  He seems not to believe in calmness, moderation or accommodation.  Evidently, threats have worked for him all his life.  But who pays the price this time?  The American people.  He belongs in Game of Thrones, not in the White House.  Along with the horrors of hurricanes and earthquakes, we have a man-made storm system just so he can feel powerful and potent.  Everything he does seems to be to prove his manhood.  How deeply insecure he must feel inside.  And he's making the rest of us feel as insecure.  It's like being besieged by the Wrath of Khan!  Let me out of this scenario!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband has managed to twist his right knee.  He was watering outside plants.  That's all I know.  But it doesn't take much at our age to end up in pain.  I had no "event" with my right knee.  I'd simply been standing too much doing holiday cooking, and then holding my grandson on Christmas day.  But the stairs are a big factor.  If I hadn't carried him up our stairs and later down the stairs to the street when they left, I might have survived.  My husband was standing for three hours last night for his chorus rehearsal.  That'll do it!  He just said to me he didn't want his knee to feel this way.  And he guessed he hadn't been sympathetic to my knee problem for the last six months.  Well, yeah.  But the truth is it's all abstractions until you've experienced something similar.  I was gracious today.  I fetched ice and two Aleve tablets.  I DO know exactly how he feels. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday we saw the opera "Electra", by Richard Strauss, and it was a bloody opus to the Greek myth world of unbridled passions and unchecked impulses and the craving for revenge.  It seems melodramatic, until you see that our human species has not come so very far since.  Myranmar, Isis, teen terrorists, men with guns gunning down their families:  is it outlandish or a mirror held up to us?  The music was gorgeous and the three female singers divine, and even the set lovely to look at.  This meshing of the beautiful and the violent is so very prevalent in our own culture that the opera couldn't be more timely.  Are we noticing?  How violence and our attraction to it are the center of our lives?  We wonder how someone can join Isis, yet, in a way, we have all joined the cult of destruction, including many of our politicians.  Tear it down!  I'm angry, and my life is not going the way I expected, so destroy.  I'm afraid of those people, so destroy them. 
I hope humankind evolves from this free for all, and the calmer and saner of us prevail, but we won't if we can't look in the mirror. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had dinner with old friends last night.  It's been a while, as we both have adult kids whom we travel to see and in their case his mother, who has Alzeimer's, and in our case, three grandchildren.  We used to get together for Thanksgiving and Christmas day, but that rarely happens any more.  Luckily, we live within walking distance, and run into each other and catch up, plus my friend and I are in a group together and also walk some mornings.  Our talk at the table turned to down sizing and adjusting to aging, and it was my husband who asked to change the subject.  He is very uncomfortable with the idea.  I want to find a smaller house on one level, and he doesn't want to move.  Of course moving is a huge upheaval, and yet, the stairs are difficult for me, and he is adverse to seeing this change.  He can't accept my problems, and yet, I can't just will them away.  What will happen?  We'll see.  I keep bringing it up, and he keeps saying he doesn't want to move.  Would I be any better if our situations were reversed?  Truly, I don't know.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The women of our family will soon be serenading our younger son and his bride at the rehearsal dinner.  I began this tradition with my older daughter, and that time I sang all by myself.  I was a wreck.  So why did I come up with the idea?  I can't reconstruct my thinking, but my heart was overflowing with love and joy, and music seemed like the way to express my feelings.  Three months later I sang to our older son and his bride, and then  came a gap of many years.  My older daughter had divorced and was remarrying, and I corralled my younger daughter, daughter-in-law, my older kids' stepmother and my young granddaughter into singing one song, and I sang the second by myself.  Then came my younger daughter's wedding, and our group sang one song and my older daughter and I sang the second.  It felt so special that the women of the family were serenading.  This time we are ALL singing two songs, and the intrepid stepmother is playing the ukelele and we have a tamborine.  We are getting to be quite a production.  But the heartfelt feelings remain the ground on which we stand.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night two friends and I went to dinner and to see a writer enact parts of his new book.  The idea was clever, and he was very good, but my friends missed the give and take of an author in conversation and a question and answer period.  Inacting one's own words seems formidable, and you become a character instead of a narrator.  I certainly wouldn't choose my own words to act out, when so many great writer's words are available.  Yet maybe he has a point.  Whenever you tell a story, it's removed from the actual event and dressed up and edited.  So the story is not the truth, it's the flower from the seed of something that happened to you.  We are performing for an audience, either in a blog, as is the case here, or when we tell what happened yesterday at the grocery store, or write down our memory of our father talking to us about his eminent death.  There is a translation and a performance. 
So I believe the event last night was much deeper and wiser than it first appeared, and I just bet I'm going to be thinking about it in relation to my life and how I "tell" it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

At my writing group last night we decided to only meet once a month this year.  I had a pang.  I didn't want to let go of the bimonthly schedule, but I could see I was alone in my preference.  Change.  Always surprising, and usually invigorating.  We did a writing exercise where I placed three objects on the table and we could pick one and write about it for eight minutes.  They were all my objects, yet they had lost their particularity a long time ago.  I wrote about tiny glass salt and pepper shakers and in doing so remembered where I'd gotten them and with whom.  Several other people wrote about a tiny enamel viking ship with a minute spoon and shovel for the salt.  I'd always thought it was a gondola, but I've only had it two years.  It was my brother's and I brought it back with me.  It turned out to be Scandanavian, and if you slip out the glass dish inside there is an intricate carving of a church.  In gold, no less.  I'd never noticed it before.  The lesson:  look carefully and you find tiny wonders all around.  And writing:  it's all about the tiny wonders, not the big, sweeping ideas.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I went to an antiques store today and took our time looking at many delightful things.  Then we had lunch and came back.  I realized that the things I liked were more than I wanted to pay, as did my friend.  I only bought a paperweight for my husband, who collects them.  After we got in the car I told my friend that what really attracted me were the china Beatrix Potter animals, especially Mrs. Tiggywinkle, Benjamin Bunny, Jemima Puddleduck and a few others, but I would not display them and the grandchildren would break them.  I liked them, but I didn't want them.  Not one little bit.  One of the ladies there said make an offer for what you want, but I am constitutionally unable to bargain.  I drove salespeople crazy in Egypt and Morocco.  They want to haggle.  I can't.  So I wasn't made of stern enough stuff to try for things that seemed too pricey, and I had no fire in my belly.  It was enough to gaze at them.  I didn't NEED them.  I must have grown up while I wasn't looking!  How strange!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I had lunch with my Buddhist swim buddy.  We don't see each other that frequently, but when we do we discover we've been thinking about similar things.  I was telling her I was missing not laughing as much as I used to and she said she and her Israeli friend had been discussing that very thing.  My friend believes at our age we are "sober".  We see clearly and that view dissolves a lot of the kind of laughter that bubbled up when we were perhaps less "awake".  We laugh, but not so often and usually only at ourselves and our expectations and predictability.  When she said that, suddenly, I no longer thought anything was wrong with me.  I'm simply on a different part of the journey.  There was nothing to fix after all.  My friend has that ability to set me straight and share experiences in a way that is soothing.  I trust her completely.  I believe that 100% of the time she has my welfare in mind and sees who I truly am.  It's a blessing.  We finish each other's thoughts, and share the loss of our brothers and the deep concern for our families.  We are on the path together.  How comforting!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend sent me a photo of the fire at the Columbia River.  This is near where my daughter and granddaughter live, and it is a horrifying image.  Fire haunts us here in the west.  We never feel safe from it, but especially not at this time of year.  Today is my birthday and I'm old enough to have learned to coexist with fear, but not to conquer it.  I've been evacuated at both my current house, my last house and my cabin.  You let go of everything; for in a moment it may not matter.  And people in the east right now are experiencing that fear from the wet, not the fire, with flooding and predictions and projections and maps.  Where will the storm go?  What will happen?

We all know in our bones change is just around the corner, across the street, or in the house where we live.  We shore up our families and friends as buffer against the arbitrariness of life, and random cruelty, the senseless violence, and yet we feel in our hearts nothing is secure.  Maybe our belief in surviving, whatever the cost, for some of us, but we don't really know until we're tested.  The fire next time, the flood, the earthquake, the storm.  Live now and treasure this moment.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm not that excited about getting a new car.  Impermanence is ever before me now.  Will my eyes hold or will I not be able to drive tomorrow, if the macular degeneration gets worse?  Will my age cause other health problems or the ultimate health problem?  Is something new exciting for someone my age?  Not really.  Things.  It's all things.  Things to disperse to my children and grandchildren.  We are going to downside our house, and I won't be so excited as the other times we moved.  Because we will get rid of most of our stuff, and it's a temporary abode for only as long as we don't need assisted care.  Not having stairs may not be enough to keep us independent.  That's not fatalistic thinking, it's seeing what is so.  I'll still enjoy the car and the house.  But excited?  No.  Nothing compares to family and friends at this stage of life. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday we went car shopping with our younger daughter, her husband and baby, and it was interesting to see how different our car needs were.  They needed something bigger, with lots of haul space, and we were downsizing, as we now have such a big family that it's impossible to go in one car no matter what it is.  We'd like to be able to accommodate a car seat for the baby boys, but a circumstance would be rare when we'd be driving them places.  And our granddaugther is older enough she doesn't need even a booster.  So I got a glimpse of my younger self, when I was so thrilled to buy a family car, and take my children's friends to soccer and that sort of thing.  And maybe they got  a gander at themselves twenty or thirty years hence, when they will thinking a small parking spaces, not birthday parties.  It goes by fast.  But they won't believe that if I tell them.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading a mystery by Louise Penny, the Canadian writer, but it is also about the opiod epidemic.  If what she implies is true, we are about to lose many people to this vicious drug, and we have already lost so many.  Her description of the evil people who benefit from this traffic makes it seem such a problem of epic proportions that it all but seems hopeless.  I admire her for tackling the subject and daring to have a possible solution.  Speaking out, when you've got millions of people listening, is brave and important and yet seldom done outside of journalism.  Her books reach people who are tired of reading about drugs, and she freshens up the debate and the ways to grapple with this destructive global greed.  I admire her courage.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's my husband's birthday today, and the family that is near went to a brunch and then a museum.  The two little fellows did great, but we took our cues from them.  Their wishes were our command.  Our almost two year old grandson had a huge pancake and pronounced it "tasty".  The nine month old ate like a stevadore.  It was cooler today, as if in celebration of our celebration, and the breeze was wonderful.  We didn't push things though.  We parted when naptime beckoned.  The agreement was unspoken:  we do what's best for the children.  I see a lot of parents dragging overtired kids around and pushing them past their limits.  I'm glad my family doesn't do that.  We are limited by what the littlest can manage.  And it's still way fun!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our nine month old grandson swiftly tore the newspaper from the table while in his grandpa's arms and stuffed it in his mouth.  Eating speech is an interesting concept.  No nutrition, but a fit use of the news.  We were trying to get him to say "mama", but he prefers to growl like a baby bear.  We're not sure what to make of this, but I'd say it's a safe bet he's of the bear clan.  Yesterday was unbearably hot (excuse the terrible pun) but he managed to take his nap in our darkened bedroom, and our daughter called this morning to ask if he could take his nap here again today, as their house is so hot upstairs.  Of course we love to have him, and we're cooler here because we're surrounded by trees and in a sheltered area with the street above being way up to block us from the sun.  Normally I grumble about it, but when the weather is warm, we're a haven.  And baby bear is our haven.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a critter problem, and called a professional service a couple of years ago.  That seems to be under control, but we still have the guy come out every three months.  Why?  We adore this man.  He's an immigrant from Ghana, and was in a refugee camp for ten years.  He's lived here for twenty years, and we want him to continue seeing us for twenty years.  He's funny, warm, and brings sunshine when he visits.  Yesterday he showed up and my husband and he had a little chat about Trump.  They're both appalled by him.  But the guy was really upset about Mrs. Trump.  He said when he was in the camp rich people used to come to visit for photo ops in their fancy clothes and they had no idea about the lives of the refugees, nor did they want to know.  He felt the high heels were like a woman on stilts carefully keeping her polished toes from touching the ground that was beneath her feet.  I can't imagine what this man's life was, but he deserves better images of his new country that rich people stepping over the poor.  He brings the speech of truth with him when he comes, and we learn a little something.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just returned from a bridal shower, and with a bonus of staying with my best friend and seeing another friend after two years.  I feel like I've received a vitamin boost!  Nothing cheers me up like friends, and at the shower I realized I've just added a whole new spate of friends and relatives.  My son's fiancee is wonderful and her family down-to-earth and very friendly.  Many of them said how much they loved my son, and that makes me so happy for him.  And yes, I was nervous.  My friend gave me a couple of pep talks on the way to the shower, and a few deep breaths and I was there! 

Now comes a crazy month when many wedding tasks need to be accomplished and logistics fine tuned again and again, but, surrounded by family and friends, I will be fine, and enjoy every minute.  Ah, a wedding!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I bumped into a former friend when we were having lunch yesterday.  It was a shock.  We hadn't seen him in many years.  We "caught up" standing in the cafe, and then said goodbye without any hint of trying to see each other again.  We'd been very close at one time, but first they had troubles with their kid, and though we supported them heartily, when we needed some support, they had none to give.  It turned out the friendship was a one way street, no u turn.  I was devastated at the time, as was my husband, but unless we wanted to be an unpaid charity for them, there was no where to go after that.  I felt sad last night, for their lives, and grateful for ours.  We were able to have boundaries that kept us sane, and they lost theirs in desperation.  We were lucky.  Our problem got better then went away, and theirs haunts them still.  It's not fair.  But seeing each other again, I had no doubt we did the right thing to protect ourselves, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  But there was a loss, on their part and ours.  So there has been mourning and moving on.  We can't go back again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I picked up two books I'd ordered of Robinson Jeffers' poetry.  Paul Kingsnorth quotes him frequently in his writing, and I'd not read him for ages, and couldn't remember much.  This is the beauty of old age:  you can reread books and it's as if it is your first reading!  I know a lot of his poems are political, and it will be interesting to see how they hold up.  This is a time right now when people are reading H G Wells and George Orwell and others, so he may seem prescient.  Jeffers believed that people were a part of nature, not separate from it, and I certainly agree with that.  We should hold no dominion over the earth, especially given our destructive history.  We are animals, and dependent on the earth around us for survival.  There is no fantasy planet to retreat to when we have destroyed the ecology here.  I want to look at what is so, and not what some people wish to be so.  I want to be awake to the earth.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My former teacher is having a birthday next month and former students are raising money for a Jizo Garden in her honor.  It's a lovely idea, and I'm happy to give towards that goal.  She has dementia now, and yet she will know, I'm certain, that Jizos represent her compassion and sitting with so many people over the years who suffered a loss:  miscarriage, parent, child sibling, friend.  She was so courageous about sitting with the dying, and not turning away from that painful experience.  She is also a master gardener, so what more perfect remembrance of her  could there be?  We've all been feeling the loss of her sharp mind, and loving her the more.  Our memories of her are intact.  We carry them in our hearts.  Gratitude is essential to express, and while the person is alive rather than afterward.  This project is an opportunity to give back a bit of what she's given us over the years.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I got quite a surprise today when we went to the DMV to renew our licenses.  We needed to take the written test and vision, and I had my form for my macular degeneration problem all filled out.  I was ready to take and fail the vision test, hopefully pass the written test and then have to do the hour driving test at some later date.  But this time my husband wanted to go to a different office, and after my trying to take the written test, and being blocked, the person at the counter did some heavy discussions with another person and in the end, they gave me the license for two more years.  No tests required, as I'd done it all last year.  Last year, the person at the other office told me I needed to come back in a year, but it turns out that was at his discretion.  And now, the doubts that maybe he was being hard on me these last couple of times came flooding back to me with the awareness that my older son was right:  I needed a different official.  He was giving me quite a hard time, which I hadn't wanted to believe. I mean, after all, I'm a nice person.   I'm in shock, because I didn't take care of myself.  I let him bully me a bit.  I have no doubt he felt he was doing people on the road a favor by attempting to take me off of it.  But why did I go back two times?  I really need some assertiveness training refreshers.  So I learned today, yet again, to stand up for myself better.  And today, I didn't even need to, because this office was fair and rational, and they trusted me and my eye doctor.  Lesson learned.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I visited my almost two year old grandson.  He's a talker!  When we were strolling he said hi, if he wasn't pointing out hydrangeas or trucks.  He's breathless with all he has to say.  Out in the back yard he pointed out the hose, blueberries, tomatoes, his wagon and on and on.  I love it!  The only time I really get to speak if If I'm reading to him.  One book from the library that is his new favorite is about a digger truck and I read it many times in a row.  Language is his joy and passion, and everything he says comes from a place of awe in the world around him.  A pretty good lesson for the rest of us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Right speech doesn't mean a dialectic of right versus wrong.  It means speech that intends no harm or hurt to others.  So these rallies and marches where there are sides that oppose each other are catastrophic, because no one is listening, they're just screaming at each other.  And because the intention is clearly to incite violence and thereby increase coverage of these events, harm is the intention.  I'm not sure why hate speech is protected, but if it is because defining hate is in the ear of the the beholder, then I see the problem.  In the south, the federal government finally decided spitting on and throwing things at school children trying to integrate white schools was unlawful.  Non-violent confrontation worked in that era.  Now the marches are blurred by differing accounts and the few violent actors who have no real beliefs but feel like slugging it out.  Who is to sort this out?  Not our current president, who admires the violent actors.  He see them as his fans, his fan base.  He wants to be the center of attention, end of story.  He doesn't care what the story is, or if it is true, just "look at me"  again and again.  Congress is uncomfortable, but not enough to be brave and protect our country from a hate fest.  Speak up, but not by violence, but by pushing and prodding your elected officials into taking a stance against hate.  It's not Christian, it's not spiritual, it's bile from the worst of ourselves, and we can do better for ourselves and our children.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been at our cabin the past two weeks, and boy, did what I envisioned as relaxing retreat become a right speech challenge immediately.  The cabin next door was having a roof put on, but that was not the problem, that was just the unexpected annoyance.  The roofers wanted to traipse through our front to carry heavy equipment, and then, when I reluctantly agreed, the next day the weight and number of trips caved in a hidden septic tank that we didn't even know was there.  A man fell in six feet, but fortunately was unhurt.  Then I had to talk to the roofing owner and say no more crossing the property:  I was liable and it was too risky.  He agreed, but the next day they were crossing again.  I had to confront the guy and have another clarification, that now, no, we did not want them using our property.  They had by that time unloaded the lot, but on the weekend the couple who own the cabin came up and we had to have an hour talk to clarify our position and insist that no more use of our front was acceptable.  They were nice, and brought two bottles of wine.  But next they are doing some foundation work, and we won't be up there, and we have water and sewer lines under that bit of earth, and I'm afraid that this habit of using our property will persist.  I have to let it go now.  I was friendly, respectful, but crystal clear.  But the situation is not in my power to control, and I know it.  I did my best.  We'll see.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went with a friend to hear Paul Kingsnorth read from his two new books last night.  His work is fascinating, and he himself engaging and brilliant.  He's English, lives in Ireland, and writes about the collapse of civilization under the current policies and pressures.  He believes we've lost touch with our animal natures and our connection to the natural world at a cost that is tragic.  His writing makes you think and look more closely and honestly at our state on the planet.  Amazingly, it's optimistic in ways, and his connection to Buddhist thought is strong.  Now I want to read his work and also that of Charles Eisenstein, another writer who covers similar territory. 
I see a strong connection between Change Your Mind, Change the World and Kingsnorth's writing.  A strange and wonderful week!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm getting ready to go up to the cabin again, but it's hard to pull myself away from people and things to do down here.  There are birthdays coming up:  two of my good friends, and a grandson birthday, and a wedding, and a driving test at DMV and an eye injection and a trip to a bridal shower.  I have a quilt to sew and a poem to write and to select a song for the rehearsal dinner.  Now my blessing is these are all happy events, except maybe the DMV if I don't pass.  So one day at a time.  I have a list and like Santa's, I'm checking it twice.
To counter such buzz up, more meditation is in order, and a sense of humor and a few movies and mysteries.  I can see this through, if I keep my equanimity.  Or when I lose it, refocus and have some stillness.  I'm grateful for my practice.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I went with a friend to see a panel discussion of Buddhist teachers called "Change Your Mind, Change the World".  I was inspired by the hopefulness and wisdom in the room.  Khenpo Tsultrim Lodro, Anam Thubten, Sharon Salzberg, Norman Fisher, and Jack Kornfield were the panelists, led by Wes Nisker.  Jennifer Berezan sang a song at both the beginning and end.  They each had a gentle, unique view of how we respond to the urge to change other people's minds instead of focusing on what we can change, our own mind.  The energy in the room was electric, and I believe most of us left with a renewed commitment to our practice, and with a faith in our own power to change the world by our interactions with it.  I'm blessed to live in an area alive with teachers and meditation centers and like minded people.  My teacher was on the panel, and I felt overwhelming gratitude for his being and how I've grown under his teachings.  A night to remember!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My daughter just called.  Her baby is teething and totally miserable.  I had no tricks up my sleeve.  All I can do is listen and offer for her to come here for a change of pace.  Come to think of it, mostly, with the people I love all I can do is listen.  Last night I talked to my best friend, and she's in agony over a muscle in her knee, and won't be able to have a cortisone shot for a week.  I wish I could alleviate the pain, but I can't.  Sending a get a well card won't cut it.  But I can talk it out and she knows I'm hoping and praying it will get better.  This injury was probably from our trip together, and the walking was too much for her.  It was challenging for me as well, but at least my knee didn't totally collapse, as it did in January.  It doesn't take much at our age.  We have so much fire and energy and curiousity, but the body won't cooperate.  And even a baby's body can do bad things:  like sore gums and wanting to stuff the contents of the toy chest in your mouth.  We can be sympathetic, and sit next to them on the journey, but we can't stop the train. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just returned from two weeks at our cabin, first with our older son, wife and grandson, then our younger daughter, her husband and baby grandson.  It was fun.  Seeing the world through fresh new eyes is always a treat.  The trees, the wildflowers, the lake, the birds:  magic!  One grandson learned how to identify and say "Ponderosa Pine" and the other learned to crawl.  How blessed we felt.  We woke up at dawn, and the day for the little ones was over before dusk.  How I admire my kids for their energy.  I don't know how I did it!  The weeks were filled with appreciation and love and minute to minute presence, which is necessary with young children, and benefits us so much.  I'm grateful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I walked with an old friend, one with whom I've had my ups and downs.  I detached a bit, enough to feel healthy and not full of expectations of her.  Now when we meet it's relaxing and cosy, because I'm not her judge by proxy and she's not someone to whom I reveal my deepest feelings.  Neither of us feels rejected anymore.  So she asked about separate rooms on a little retreat we are doing in September and I said I'd like a separate room, because she admits she coughs.  I wanted so badly to agree to share, but it wouldn't have been honest and frankly, I don't think I would have slept.  She was utterly graceful about it, and made my taking care of myself easy.  I appreciate that sensitivity on her part.  It's one of the things that keeps this long friendship viable, despite some rocky moments.  We've both learned more about ourselves and our shared meditation practices help that along. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm compiling the poems I've written about my grandchildren and realize they are love poems.  They speak of the joy and complexity of being a grandparent and also the individuality of each child.  It is a gift to have grandchildren and be their witness.  Two days ago I was outside a restaurant holding my littlest grandson while my husband and daughter finished their meal and a stranger stopped and showed me his twin grandchildren, a boy and a girl.  Before he left I knew their weights at birth, that their mother had had a C section, and various details both intimate and funny.  He was gushing.  The cliche is that it is the grandmothers that do that, but here he was, giddy and apologizing while she showed yet another photo of them.  He was in love.  I understood completely.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Wow!  I've read two amazing memoirs in one week:  "Hunger" by Roxane Gay, then Sherman Alexie's "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me".  Both raw and real and passionate.  Both as complex as people's lives really are.  Both involved the writer being raped as a child.  Both triumphant in strengthening their voices and points of view.  Such writing energizes me.  It has the shivery chill of truth.  It inspires me to be more truthful and hug the goal of right speech.  I love the way Alexie mixes poetry and prose and therefore makes the writing multidimensional.  How joyous great writing is, no matter what the subject matter.  How freeing.  And maybe it's my age, but memoir is my favorite reading material.  Next is biography, and then history.  What a turnabout for me.  Stories, stories, stories of real people living life the messy, true way.  Wow!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday, my teacher Anam Thubten discussed "How will this day unfold?", about expectation and surprise.  We never know what the day will bring.  We may be looking forward to a walk with a friend and trip and fall and be bedridden for the next several weeks.  We may dread a meal with family and be surprised by the kindness and closeness we feel.  My former teacher, Yvonne Rand, used to school us in "don't know", about not having expectations and our inability to control what happens.  Anam said that setting our intention first thing in the morning helps us stay balanced and prepared for what we are not prepared for.  If we greet the day with an awakened heart (Bodhicitta) we will experience kindness and compassion for whatever occurs.  Surprise is not our enemy.  It may have much to teach us about ourselves and others.  It shows us our expectations and delusions.  So I greet this day with gratitude for my life and determination to respond with kindness to whatever happens.  And I'll ruefully notice when that old black magic expectation creeps in.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm beginning to sign petitions again.  That's how I know I'm back and not on vacation.  I loved not seeing or hearing anything about what was going on in Washington D.C. but I AM a citizen, so back to the grind.  I'm discouraged about letters to the editor, though, because none of mine have been published.  Yesterday and today were hot here, and though I love it, I slow way down and amble my way through the day.  Today will be all about laziness.  We saw "Maudie" yesterday, with Sally Hawkins and Ethan Hawke.  It was Maudie Lewis' story.  She was a folk artist in Nova Scotia, and her work gained worldwide recognition in her lifetime.  It's a sweet story, of two misfits who found each other, learned to love and support one another, and stayed in their tiny house to the end of their days.  It shows rather than tells what creativity is, and the images are beautiful and wise.  I wept at the sheer tenderness of the endeavor of surviving, living and growing into who you are meant to be.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading Roxane Gay's Hunger, and it is so immediate and direct and powerful and honest that it stands as a Right Speech beacon.  It makes me want to be raw and true as she is.  But I'm afraid of the people I might hurt if I ever was so transparent.  That is the balance, isn't it?  Between being your true self and speaking who you are and hurting others in that indulgence?  How to walk the tightrope - that is the question.  So there is more silence and more caution and less sharing, at least in my case.  I first noticed my father's bluntness hurt others, and swore not to be that way.  But in my mind, was this ready reserve of sarcasm, like knives ready to be unsheathed.  So I began to distrust my impulses and keep my own counsel, as they say.  Then I developed the "pause", and practice "thinking it over" before speaking.  Have I gone too far the other way?  It's hard to say.  But sometimes I long to say what I'm really thinking, but I don't trust the other person or myself.  I'm caged, a bit.  Is this civilization and wisdom or fear and lack of confidence in my right to my voice?  I don't know.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had dinner with friends last night.  They are on their way out of town and we just came back:  thus is summer.  Ships passing in the night.  But all the trips are happy ones and it's great to feel we can still have these choices of going new places and seeing new things.  And just as I had to be careful about my knees, my friend has bursitis and will have to be gentle with her foot.  We travel, but not fleetly of foot!  I hope to catch up with more friends in the coming days.  I went to a writer's group meeting yesterday morning and it was so good to see my friends.  I brought my grandbaby and another friend brought her two preschool grandchildren.  They were so sweet and my grandson was of course fascinated with them.  He knows little people when he sees them.  I didn't get much catching up done, but the environment was warm and welcoming.  I am blessed.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

What a wonderful experience we've just had.  My husband, my friend and I went to Canada and enjoyed the people, the history, the food, the geography.  We walked a lot and at the end, a plane was delayed and at our destination my friend's bag was not on the carousel, so she is waiting for it to be delivered to her home in another state.  But, all in all, given the state of our knees and backs, we were intrepid.  What is invigorating is the engagement with another language and culture.  We learned a lot about our neighbor country.  The food was amazing.  The other group participants were from all over and different as well, which was challenging and heartening.  Two days ago we celebrated Canada Day - 150 years as a nation.  Today we celebrate Fourth of July!  North America is quite a place and I feel lucky to be living here!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm excited about my granddaughter visiting tomorrow.  And nervous.  I want her to have fun, but not be in the car too much, and have food she loves, but has her palate changed?  It's all good.  I only see her every few months, so all the details are heightened.  But when I see her, it will be as it has been:  immediate relaxation and fondness and joy and just listening to her.  Each grandchild is special in his or her own way, and they all have strong personalities, opinions, likes and dislikes.  Even the babies.  So I adjust.  Something fresh this way comes.  I'm feeling very Mary Poppinsish. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

There is a joke in our family about how we took our younger son as an infant to a drive in movie theater to see "Jaws".  He later was afraid of water and he "blames" us.  The other night we watched "Jaws" and I was amazed to see the film was rated PG.  Not even PG13.  That pretty much encapsulates what is wrong with out country.  My husband said there were no naked breasts so the gory body parts, sharks eating humans close up and personal and the nail biting terror were fine for kids.  Our children see too much violence and then they act it out, as it becomes cool when portrayed by gorgeous actors whom they want to emulate.  I really can't get over the fact that supposedly responsible people thought "Jaws" was kiddie fare.  And we can go around being afraid of great white sharks instead of the sharks in Congress and on Wall Street.  Scare us over remote dangers and keep us in the dark about the rest.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today my grandson would not nap.  Two strolls later, I surrendered.  The second stroll, when he should have conked out immediately, he talked and yelled at the top of his voice like an opera singer the entire time.  He pulled off his socks four times, pulled off his hat six times and chewed on it, and serenaded me.  Pavarotti here comes your heir!  My daughter looked defeated when she returned home, but I did the best I could.  Consistency is not a mark of a baby, and figuring out what's going on is impossible.  But she keeps trying.  I wouldn't worry about it but she will.  Hopefully, he's taking a long, long nap right now.  And she is too!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I saw "My Cousin Rachel" yesterday and both really enjoyed it.  I was a big fan of Daphne Du Maurier as a teen, and for a long time "Rebecca" was my favorite film.  It makes sense for someone who's favorite book is Jane Eyre.  I like the subtlety of what is going on in the book and film, and that the viewer has to figure out for herself what is happening.  In the process, you see impulsive behavior and words that hurt as much as a knife wound.  Both Rachel and Ashley don't see the other's point of view well enough to understand each other.  That kind of harming is all too familiar to any of us watching:  dismissive remarks and harsh quick judgments.  This film could truly be seen as a cautionary tale of wrong speech, and insular worlds that don't begin or try to comprehend the other.  Tragedy is inevitable, yet so easily might have been avoided if either had paused and reflected before speaking. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took our dog on a different walk this morning.  She's very old, but I realized she was probably bored with the same trek every day, so we went a different route and I do believe she was perkier and more interested in her peemail and the smells.  We had a blood panel done on her a couple of weeks ago and the vet said her bloodwork was that of a much younger dog.  So she's got more life in her, despite fatty lumps and a growth on her elbow.  Our kids' pets are also old: both our younger daughter's cats,  our older son's cat, our younger son's dog.  It's hard watching them age.  But our dog is very interested in the new grandson, and loves visitors or a change of pace.  We're pretty boring, and the problem is:  we're old too!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My daughter sent a link so I could order some school pictures of my granddaughter.  As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.  She looks older and poised and not like a little girl at all any more.  I only see her every few months, so I was stunned.  She's beautiful, and not quite as awkward as she was.  She's looking directly at the camera and engaging the photographer.  A soul looks out of her eyes, and it reminds me of when she was a toddler and emotion would be caught on camera sweeping across her face.  She's allowing us in again.  She has strong character.  And when I frame the pictures I will have the proof of it.  Ah, this grandmother business is so delightful!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today when my husband and I were at a burger place with our youngest grandson, I noticed amongst his peach fuzz hair on his head one strand of hair about two inches long sticking straight up on the top of his head.  I showed my husband.  Oh, no, he said.  We both had a prickle of fear:  he was going to have his grandpa's hair.  My husband's hair has always been unruly, mad scientist hair and electric guitar when it was long.  No amount of brushing will tame it.  We are praying the signs are wrong and the baby will have normal hair, that is, when he gets hair.  When our daughter, his mother, was born, we looked at each other bug eyed and said:  the ears.  But they flattened out nicely and she did not end up looking like Obama.  So perhaps this is just a scare.  But how that one hair could stick straight up, defying gravity, is troubling.  Perhaps there is a baby mousse or quick set cement that will work!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We saw Wonder Woman yesterday afternoon.  We both enjoyed it, and it's refreshing to have a model for girls that counters all the old boy action movies, with women as accessories.  I'm generally sick of all these comic book movies, though as a kid I certainly read comics.  I read Classics comics like Treasure Island and Black Beauty, and Archie and Veronica and romance comics, but I remember loving Superman and Lois Lane.  The superheroes were as bad as war comics.  I was looking for the romance and story, and not fighting, fighting, fighting.  Because I had a younger brother, I was exposed to G.I. Joe and scary comics, but there was nothing there I identified with.  And there still isn't.  I can hardly stand to watch the previews of these movies.  They are noisy, violent and explosive.  Battle after battle.  I'm no purist:  I love a lot of sci fy movies.  But I love them a lot more after Contact and Alien and Gravity and now Arrival.  I like seeing women solving problems and testing their courage and engaging fearlessly with the unknown.  So good for Wonder Woman, but I am not holding my breath about any change in our culture.  I'd pass out.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend and I saw a movie last weekend that surprised us about how good it was.  "Norman" is a story about a Manhattan "fixer", who drops names and harasses people into helping him grant favors to others.  Richard Gere is Norman, and he's amazing.  The character is obnoxious, familiar, sad and oblivious.  He is in a lonely fantasy world made up by himself and he is taken in as much by his malarky as anyone.  But finally all his promises and lies converge and he realizes he is harming people he likes.  The cast is excellent, with Michael Sheen as his nephew, Steve Buschemi as his rabbi and Charlotte Gainsborough as a person he meets who becomes his undoing.  Actions have consequences and Norman has been living in a world where the "score" is his goal, and he's never thought beyond.  The film shows us a world of name dropping and falsity so pervasive that people trust the social forms and the substance is lost.  We've all seen a little of it, at a party or fund raising event or at work functions.  But some people live and breathe the artifice, and Norman is both entrapped and unconsciously harming others.  He can't see the connection between his actions and the consequences.  He doesn't really believe in himself or his power, until it is too late to step away from the lies.  It's a movie that gets you thinking.