Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our son, daughter-in-law and grandson are still in their house. The fire is still close, but we're praying the firefighters get a handle on it. Our good air has become moderate and will get worse as the fires go on, but hopefully not too bad for them or us. There is something weird about the pretty vineyards and hills that resemble Italy and France going up in smoke. It was a kind of dream to have your own vineyard and pond and many people became gentleman farmers. I'm not talking about the big wineries. They are agribusiness. But the fantasy of the good life, and anyone could drive up for a weekend and sip from a glass and walk in sculpture gardens and get away from the real world. The real world of migrant workers, of tech baby millionaires, of poverty and inequity. Real people like my son and his wife are teachers who can't afford a bigger house, or getaways at spa resorts nearby. And while these fires are raging, our president is raging and fueling the flames of hate and denial and misdirection. Let's not be misdirected ourselves. Let's turn and look directly at the craziness and insist it stop. Unlike the fires we can cease this travesty of governing in a few weeks. I pray we do.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our older son, his wife and son may have to evacuate from fire kicked up yesterday. Their air is bad, and for them, it's deja vu, as fire came within a mile of them a couple of years ago, and now it's about three miles away. The stress is horrible, and though they will come and stay at our younger daughter's rental studio, if they have to, the terror of leaving all your valuables, packing up the cat, and worrying that all your effort in painting, gardening etc can be gone in a moment. My husband and I went to the cabin overnight this weekend, and avoided the scorching temperatures here, but today it was well over ninety, and with gusty winds at times, the thing we fear. I can't get a break from worrying, and I'm not alone. There is a pile up effect of covid, the news, the fires, and the struggles of my friends and family. Nothing to do but pray, which I am.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's challenging to stay positive when in one day Trump reiterates his refusal to step down if he is defeated in the election and Breonna Taylor was murdered but not by anyone. Trump is insane and it is strange indeed that the bullet that hit the wall is evidence of wrongdoing, but all the other bullets are ignored, including the ones that killed an innocent woman. It's about as weird as women going to prison for life for defending themselves against their husbands who were battering them or the husbands who ask and are granted custody of children whose mother has had her arm or leg broken or been hospitalized by this same man. Battering a child's mother is not my idea of a suitable scene for a child to witness and to have that father granted the power to terrify his kids with impunity is the reverse of the term "child protection". It's a crazy world, where logic, reason, science and compassion are ridiculed in favor of maintaining power and fear over others. My mystery I'm reading is not as convoluted as the world I'm living in.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm pretty touched by the lace collars worn by NBA basketball players in honor of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. I sense an acknowledgement of their mothers and grandmothers as well. When these big tough guys can be that sensitive, it bodes well for their relationships with women in their lives, and sets an example of what true masculinity can be. And the humor in it is so welcome right now, with everyone screaming at each other and a dogfight being made out of RBG's vacant seat. Let's all get in touch with our feminine side, the one that's tough and persistent and compassionate and won't back down. Let's all stand up and be counted, and be proud of being nasty women.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Notorious RBG is gone, and many are devastated. She was an inspiration to a lot of women and girls, and though we are not surprised, it is a blow among so many others right now. I think first of my twelve year old granddaughter and fifteen year old foster granddaughter. She was bound to be more historical myth for them than present fact. But her absence on the Supreme Court leaves their fates in the hands of mainly white males. Why can we not gain any kind of appropriate representation? We're not fighting hard enough. The Women's Marches, the activism, Moms Rising, all the passionate defenders of the ERA, the Feminist Majority, why are we not persuasive? We have followed hook line and sinker our own devaluation. And we have legitimate fears. We fear men because they, especially loved ones, are the most likely to kill us, to take away money for food, hold children hostage, and denigrate us over and over. Liberation has to go hand in hand with protection against domestic violence. I've fought most of my life for victims, but we need to have REAL early childhood education and alerts, so that women hear that abuse is not acceptable and that there are alternatives. Look at the verbal abuse being heaped upon Kamala Harris, just as it was with Hilary Clinton. Speak up, speak out, and demonstrate that women are worth valuing and protecting. RBG did. Now let's take up the mantle.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Another day of blue skies, and boy, do we appreciate it these days. And up north is going to get rain, so their air will clear. I am in a pod again with one of our kids, his wife and our grandson, and that feels great. We are babysitting the grandson today again. And yesterday I took a social distance walk in masks with my daughter and her baby, and we got to talk a bit. Her older boy is loving preschool, so her decision to start him seems to have been wise, and it gives her a break from two little boys, since her husband has long hours working from home and can only give her a break on weekends. Tonight we're going to have dinner delivered here with our son and though I don't miss eating out, I miss eating WITH. So we'll eat together the 5 of us. And if the air is okay tomorrow we're driving up to eat social distanced outside with our older son, his wife, and son. All this socializing! I'm in heaven1

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It was great air today, and we babysit our 16 month old grandson and had fun with him, and we get to see our younger son and his wife. I felt really happy, even though because our daughter-in-law works for Save the Redwoods, we heard a piece of land they had just bought burned to the ground. They've had a lot of heartbreak seeing protected areas be devastated. I was going to say we are still not out of the woods, and ironically, that's exactly right. Our bad fire month is October, so lots of bad things can happen, but I'm praying they won't. The air was horrible again where our granddaughter and son-in-law live, and no end in sight. But I'm going to be grateful for a happy day today for me, and pray for the rest. I won't forget. None of us can. But we got to take a walk today. And it felt wonderful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just spent an hour talking to my childhood best friend, and we covered the gamut: the Post Office, the election, her brother, her boyfriend, the fires, and lots of book recommendations. Our discussions are fun and cheerful, and when she said it looked like it was going to rain there, I suggested she send it to us here. I know she would if she could. We aren't really much alike, but we feel like we're sisters, and you don't shake that. She has an older brother, and I had a younger brother, so essentially, we were sisters. Her life is of great importance to me, and I know mine is to her. Luckily, we both grew up on phone calls, so that method is comfortable, and it's like I'm twelve years old again. Comfort. Familiarity, trust, love.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I got a call this morning that our younger son his driving back here with his wife and son from Oregon. The air quality is scaring them there, and they have to be inside all the time. I'm worried about all my grandchildren, but especially the four little boys, because of their developing lungs. The baby is coughing, and their son is next oldest at a year and and a third. Everyone has air filters and is doing their best, but it may not be enough. I feel so sorry my kids have to be terrified for their kids, not just about the pandemic, but also the smoke and fires. And the political situation is frightening as well. All I can do is pray, and for today recognize that our air, as bad as it is, is better than it might be. Everything is becoming very relative. I can see some blue sky and sun and the trees are bright green. Color again comes to the rescue.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

One of the things I'm noticing when I talk to friends right now is an increased equanimity about whatever is happening: fire, pandemic, the upcoming election, losses, illness. It's as if the overwhelm has somehow settled them. I'm not saying there is no anxiety, of course we all feel it. But the sense than "this" will soon be over is dissolved. There is no timeline or endgame, and we now get that. There is more aimless pleasure in a Facetime call. Yesterday I spent a long time talking about nothing with my younger son, his wife and their son. We talked about water painting. I watched my grandson sit in various chairs and move them around. He poured cheerios from a measuring cup into a bowl (my idea), We avoided any serious discussion because we are living in a serious discussion. We just "chatted". That term is often used to diminish the connections between women, as if we are trivial. But chatting is creating a comfort zone for people we care about, and women have much more practice in this skill. I'm happy my son and husband also have skills in this area, and my other son and daughter as well. We're "checking in". It's circling around love, which is what is keeping us all going right now. There is no lessening of love during these current crises. I think we feel it more powerfully and our strength comes from our capacity for love. We don't have to DO anything, we can just BE.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I received two photos of my older two grandsons this morning. One was painting in front of an easel with his painting smock on, using a luscious green color on his paper. The other was observing a butterfly emerge from its crysallis and describing the bits of blue and red and a wash of yellow on its wings. Thus I was reminded by my wise grandchildren how much joy color brings to us, natural or people made. Yellow is the painter's favorite color, and I have to admit he's very persuasive. His room is newly painted yellow. My favorite flowers are daffodils, but I answer aqua when someone asks my top hue. But in times like these, the sheer cheerfulness of yellow is a triumph. I have a friend who years ago advised me to put a splash of yellow somewhere in every room, and I've pretty much done that. I even have a yellow guest bedroom, which does make me happy when I look in, and that is where my grandchildren sleep if they visit. I know that along with turning on music, seeing color around me, without any thought content, soothes. Our hearts are meant to soar at the sight. What a comfort!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I woke up to news that the area where my son-in-law and granddaughter, son, daughter-in-law and grandson are living is being evacuated due to fire. I immediately texted, and they are not in the zone of evacucation but the air is terrible, as it is here. My anxiety is ratcheted up. We are all trapped on the west coast. We must stay inside and worry, for this situation, like the pandemic, is not going to fixed soon. In the north, there may be rain Monday. I hope so, but it won't help here. It would be fluky to have any rain here, though maybe in the mountains it's possible. We can't help up north, for we need our firefighters here. I've heard of no expression of sympathy from our president, not that I expected one. We keep in contact with each other through our phones. My son was saying if only they had another family with them in their house, but because of covid that isn't feasible. I feel the same way. If I could see my kids and grandkids, I would be comforted and give comfort, but I cannot. We're all in a trap, but each of us facing it without loving support. I pray this ends soon.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Another day of little light, an orangish cast, and bad air. It's supposed to get horrible on the weekend. We were going to see our older son, his wife and our four year old grandson, but no dice. I did my exercise video and our groceries arrived, and I ordered my grandson's birthday gifts. I tried to order something for my granddaughter from a catalogue, but their website is totally messed up and ordering by phone involved a long wait. The only sensible thing to do is call a friend and bother her. Last night my husband and I watched "Skyscraper" with Dwayne Johnson, but all the fires looked no worse than our west coast, and at least they were confined to one building. Big deal. Disaster movies can't scare me. I'm LIVING a disaster film. However, I can't figure out any heroics that would help, so I guess I'm back to writing postcards. I feel like a dinosaur right after the meteor hit, as my three year old grandson likes to describe. Shrouded skies, impending doom, you know. Going extinct. Well I guess I was doing that anyway, but I thought it would be more gradual.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I woke up this morning early, I thought, to pee, but then my husband said, "look at the sky". It was orange, and the outside was dark as night but it was 8:30 am. We had to turn the lights on to move around, and the outside lights and walk lights were on. It looked like the end of the world. it still does three hours later. The air is moderate, but outside seems like dusk before total nightfall. There are new fires north of us, and fires around us, and we are no where near the rainy season. There is nowhere to flee. Mother Nature is seriously angry, and we are partially to blame. I can only hope we change presidents and a new one addresses this catastrophe immediately. I've been texting with family and friends, and talked to our daughter nearby. We try to remain calm, but the feeling is that we are trapped. I had a dream early this morning in which I was with my older daughter and she gripped my hand. It was as if she was assuring me she was still with us, but also, maybe a warning?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Very apocolyptic today with raging orange sun, dark skies and supposedly the temperature will reach 93 degrees. We feel dread here. Fires are raging, and our fire season has barely begun. Yet strange as these days are, they are no stranger than losing my daughter, or not seeing my kids and grandkids, or talking to everyone over the phone. My friend sent me a photo of her, and there she was, with badly trimmed bangs and hair longer than I've ever seen it. My photo would look the same. I don't even look in the mirror any more, knowing the marks of sorrow in my lined face, the bare forehead (I've let my bangs grow out) and the pallor that marks me. Ego and vanity away. There are more important issues at hand. We are stripped for battle. Let's get down to the nitty gritty. Love this world in all it's imperfections. Love others and ourselves with all our imperfections. LOVE IMPERFECTIONS,

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

TOday is my birthday, and I've already heard from all my children and grandchildren. Also from dear friends. No, I don't have any plans, but that's fine with me. It's super hot here today and so it's best to lay low. I just finished a terrific book by Araminta Hall, Imperfect Women. It's a mystery, but quite a feminist one, and contains a lot of truth. And I have a stack of books still to read, so I'm set. I made a big breakfast this morning: juice, hash browns, veggie sausage, english muffin and melon. With it I had cold coffee from the other day, spashed with milk, and I'm still full now. My husband sent me flowers with huge orangey red roses, the kids all sent gifts, and I bought myself a necklace which has a little gold cardinal and a silver disk carved with an oak tree and the words "All we have is now". Perfect. When I talked to my granddaughter she was happy and about to go off to meet her friend, and her recovery from grief is proceeding in the right direction. The healing continues. I am grateful for my life, my children and grandchildren, my husband, my friends. I FEEL my blessings.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Buddhist teacher often invokes the image of dancing - dancing with the hindrances that keep us from our true Buddha nature. Today he mentioned the tango, and that picture of him doing the tango caused me to smile broadly. But how do I know? Maybe he's an expert on tango. What he's saying is not to fight against our human nature and limitations, but embrace imperfection and thus be able to feel the joy. Yesterday I made popovers, and the magic of it: the rising in the hot oven, the hollowness as you break the popover apart and perhaps add peach preserves, the amazement that something made of simple flour, salt, milk, eggs and butter can be so sublime. I immediately had the desire to drop some off at my daughter's house for them. And I will do that today. Is it a weakness to adore certain foods? I think not. Our pleasure arrives in tiny packages, mostly. The frogs at night, crows congregating on the cedar tree, a blossom bursting out of a cactus. We are sensual beings, and our joy manifests through sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch. If we can't right now touch others because of the covid, we can caress leaves, hold a rose steady while we inhale its perfume, pat our blankets and pillows. We are more alive when we treasure our senses, and our brief but often shining lives.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a pleasant brunch with old friends out on our patio, six feet apart. It felt "normal". A rare feeling these days. I made a frittata with potatoes, red pepper, mushrooms, zuchini and yellow squash, popovers and melon with lime. Friends are what keep me sane. And we are all kind of getting the hang of how to safely connect. I will do this more as time goes on, because there is no kidding myself any longer that the pandemic will be over soon, or in January or next year. This is the way we must live. My friend two states away told me we will see each other again, and I embrace that hope, but in the meantime it is the meantime. Phone calls are my best connection, even more than Facetime, and I'm appreciating them more. Faces are a rarity, and walking about we only see masks. Bottom line: we want to live longer, even if we have been blessed with a long lifespan already. I look forward to seeing my grandkids again and reintroducing myself as grandma. Grandma is my best self.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was looking for the Discourse on Lovingkindness which is a Buddhist chant the other day, and came upon notebooks full of "weather reports". My Zen teacher encouraged us to email a report each week on the state of our practice, but about four years ago her dementia made it impossible for her to continue, The first report I saw was one about my brother's suicide. I tucked it back in the book, but literally there were hundreds of reports over the years, and it might make some interesting reading for me sometime. A kind of witness to what I was thinking and feeling back in the day. I used to believe my kids or grandkids would read these reports, and my poems and novels, and know more about me. But now I'm not so sure, and I realize it doesn't matter if they save them or ever read them. I write because I must, because I learn what I think from writing, and because even if my only reader is me, I've still reached out to all sentient beings, because I matter. I matter to me. And that's an achievement.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is my husband's birthday. He's feeling good partly because he has his new IPhone and is getting lots of calls. It's nice it's working out the way I hoped. Yesterday my friend and I went to her husband's gravesite and sat in lawn chairs and talked about him and death and bardo. He's been dead 24 years, so has missed his two kids' graduations, wedding, work achievement, etc. I talked about my first husband, who missed so much of our two children as well. He's been dead 36 years, so graduations, weddings, grandchildren and of course, the death of our daughter two months ago. We discussed how it feels to witness someone you love's death, and how difficult it is to wrap your mind around the loss. Very philosophical we were. The sun was shining, they were mowing the grass on the hill, we forgot our hats, but wore our masks, as we contemplated the mysteries.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our 3 year old grandson started preschool this morning, and our daughter says he had tears in his eyes but went willingly with the teacher. It was a wrenching decision for my daughter and her husband to make, but he was craving playing with other kids, and to be allowed into a playground. Hopefully, the school's safety precautions will protect them. So now we are on our own, without being able to see any grandchildren without masks, social distancing and being outside. Two are in another state, so they are unavailable anyway. I plan on writing a baby book for the 6 month old, organizing photos with my husband, doing my exercise video and walking, and talking, talking, talking on the phone. I feel I can do this, but the dreary weather, the smoke on and off, the shorter days, the election gloom, even the holidays make me struggle to be upbeat. What will our holidays be this year? Zoom, I guess. Blah!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband finally ordered an IPhone, but it takes a village to get it up and running. His anxiety goes into overdrive with gagets though he's better than me at such things generally. I had to forbid him to talk to me about it last night, as he sat on the bed while I was attempting to read. Today we are going to our daughter's house for lunch so he can have her put the sim card in and get him going. He's so stressed out I wonder right now if it's worth it. But I was tired of him: telling me my phone had made a sound, asking me to look up the weather, handing over the phone so he could see photos, giving MY NUMBER to all the services we signed up for, and me having to put him on my orders because he had no cell. I know he will love it eventually, but will I still love him?! Hard to say, at this point.