Wandering along the path: Right Speech

 I am beginning a brand new blog today.  I am using my new blog to go back over my distant past and especially to highlight the concerns I had after my fourteenth birthday.  After today, you will need this new site to see what I’m writing.  I began a couple of weeks ago and today will be my latest entry into that blog:  which is “Looking into my Past”.

Wandering along the path: right speech

 Across rhe long divide I am now home and able to speak right again.  Please bare with me as I apply

my mind to my my current state of affairs.  More later.  I am very rocky still.  

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

 Well, last Saturday I had a stroke caused by my irregular heartbeat.  I  was in the hospital until yesterday.  I'm grateful to have the drug that under the hour window to stop the bleeding.  I'm recovering well with lots of suppport and many doctors appointments!  I am so grateful for more chance at life and friends and family  Our kids rallied around  us and we feel loved and comforted.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a relaxing time at the cabin and the weather was nice enough for just a light jacket.  There are still lumps of snow everywhere, mostly dirty, but they are melting quickly.  Our grandson tried to make snowballs and sled on a saucer, but we would have had to drive him to better snow, and we all felt like not getting in the car while we were there.  No wildflowers yet, but there were beautiful butterflies around, and one was an amazing orange pattern, not a Monarch but even more spectacular, and it landed on our grandson and stayed for a few minutes.  I believe that had something to do with peanut butter and jelly sticky fingers.  We cooked three luscious meals:  salmon, then chicken pilliard, then turkey meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  We made big breakfasts also.  Every morning we took a walk, then came back for lunch and sat on the deck in the afternoon.  I played many games of dominoes with my grandson, board games, and brought out the miniature fairy creatures, then the playground playmobil toys, then the horse and cattle playmobil, then I watched him play rockets, bunny family in the woods and other inventions.  

My husband can't sleep at the cabin, and he kept me awake as we rested on the pullout sofa bed, but despite his restlessness, I awoke ready to go every morning.  He slept until nine thirty this morning, and he's much less grumpy, but I'm still annoyed with him.  He often doesn't sleep well even at home, and he likes to tell me about it.  I figure it's his problem to solve, and the conversation is old.  My sympathy has dwindled over time.  Nothing I've ever suggested has helped or he won't try it, so I'm way done.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

 We had a pleasant women's group outside on a patio, and we were more relaxed.  I believe we are more comfortable with the pandemic at this moment.  We know about what is happening in Britain, but are more concerned about the Ukraine.   I felt more detached than usual, but maybe because I simply had nothing to say.  I encouraged another member to speak up about an issue that another member hadn't been present to hear about, and I was glad I did, because the member got more useful feedback.  I was supporting her, and not listening to myself.  But I also noticed another member seemed to dominate, and I took note of that.  I won't take any action, but I'm aware.  More is learned by me when I listen, rather than talk.  And I'm grateful to be in a position where I don't NEED to talk.  I'm okay, and looking forward to some days at the cabin with my older son, his wife, son and my husband.  There may even be lupine already!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

 My husband and I picked up two cane chairs that had been repaired.  One my grandson stood on and the other my older son sat on.  Over the thirty plus years we've only had to repair two other chairs, and we have ten, for our dining room.  I love repairing over replacing.  These chairs have character.  They are Victorian, and are actually quite comfortable.  It's fun to go into the shop, as the place is chock a block with old furniture and gourds made into totem poles, sculptures, lights and other unidentifiable objects.  We are still waiting on the repair of the bench memorializing our daughter, and it's been six weeks, but the guy said maybe another month.  They are looking for wood that matches.  Anyway, it's like stepping into a Dickensonian world.  I had a similar experience when I went into a State shop in Mysore, India many years ago.  I felt the same feeling:  in a Victorian world with papers and stations and protocols that were from a civilization now gone.  It takes a very long time and longer wait to transact your business, and other customers are waiting on the sidewalk, as they cannot fit in the shop.  I, for one am charmed, but perhaps my husband, not a literature professor, is less so.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, speaking of right speech, Jane Campion blew it with her unconscious racism and eliltism. I just want to know why these actors don't write an acceptance speech ahead of time and run it by their handlers? We wouldn't have experiencedd the big reveal. She actually thinks her upper class priviledged background and white skin means she's struggled as much as a black woman from the lower class who has to run the gaunlet of racist and sexist remarks every day of her life. And people wonder why feminism is divided: It's divided between women of color who face racial and sexist behavior every day of their lives and women who think their brand of suffering is eqivalent to those who are other in more than one way. Thank goodness there are so many women writers of color telling it like it is these days, speaking for themselves and fed up with others speaking for them. What is sad is that Jane Campion had an opportunity to represent women overcoming sexism, but she really only was thinking of "her own kind", not the vast population of non-white women who face discrimination every waking moment of their lives. For them there is no repreive. Their color tells the story.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been listening to Rufus Wainright this afternoon. He has this doleful sound that is also funny, kind of like Tom Waits. He makes me smile. My friend and I went to an outlet store this morning, and, as usual, I did better than she. I cam away with two sweaters, a pullover sweatshirt aand sweatpants that don't look like sweatpants. She found only two replacement pairs of black straight legged pants. We're both very short, but she is curvy and I am straight up and down. Evidently it helps me fit into clothes better, or maybe she is more discerning. She was a doctor and had to wear classic, elegant clothes, while I was a teacher, and lived in longish skirts, tees or sweaters and a blazer. Now I never wear blazers or long skirts, and she never wears elegant outfits. I guess we're fish out of water. I now wear jeans and sweaters with jackets, while she is still more classy, tending to white and neutrals. I'm a gaudy bird by comparison. We still kind of look like what we were: a doctor and a teacher, but gone to seed.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had fun this morning going with my daughter to Target. I purchased three $5 tee shirts, cards, printer paper, and various non-essential items as well as stocking up for the cabin, where we're going with our older son, daughter-in-law and grandson for three nights. We took a long time, and that allowed me to remember I've been needing a new glass pitcher for ice tea, and oven mitts, and Easter items for the grandkids. Then we ate lunch with my husband, outside on a cloudy day, but it felt fine, as that is what I'm now used to: eating with a jacket on. I was supposed to walk with a friend, but she was not feeling well, and we can always go another day. I've been trying to give her a book she wanted to read, but it's not worth a trip in the car to drop it off. Or am I lazy? Well, it's true that errands I used to accomplish without a thought now stop me in my tracks. If it involves getting in the car, I put it off. I'm turning into a sloth. Oh, well.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was talking with my therapist about something my Buddhist teacher has said about nirvana: that equanimity is the best definition of itb. I'm attempting to practice equanimity surrounded by all this conflict and hatred that beseiges us. I get glimmers of it, and walking and talking to friends often helps me. Nature is the biggest aid, and soon I'll be going to the cabin with our olde son, his wife and six year old, and my husband and I will get a much needed break from the media, as our cell phones and laptops don't work there. I love that. We can listen to music, and we do have a landline phone for emergencies, but that's it. Tranquility break here I come!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was listening this morning to my dharma teacher's livestream talk, and he addressed the suffering in the Unlraine, Darfur and the Sudan with helpful advice for me. He said we must bear witness and not blind ourselves in order to be more comfortable. The world is this place of suffering, but humanity can offer compassion instead of hate, and do what we can to cause these people caught up in war to be seen and hopefully helped. We've all got compassion fatigue, as he put it, but we should open our hearts wider, not close up. If we love humanity we have to see it clearly and honestly, not as we wish it was. When I think about suffering, I know there are events that we cannot change, like my daughter's death, and ones we can if we have the courage to turn and face the ugliness that our instincts push us to escape. I feel I have been doing a pretty good job of getting information in a non-judgemental and non-clinging way: by reading just what I need to and not dwelling on the sensational aspects of the news. I'm informed, but not addicted. I take time out to pray and rest my compassion on the victims. Images are incendiary, so I am careful with my intake. I strive to keep my heart open and my head clear and brave. It's a struggle, a new one every day.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm tired after a long morning walk with my friend. Reading makes me sleepy. I counter that by listening to music these days. Today I put on the Everly Brothers, which transported me back to my early teen years and sock hops and my first love. I still smile when I think about him. Then I put on a three CD set of Michael jackson, and thought of how little of the story we knew, and how tragic his life became. He's not a fave of mine but he sure was danceable. My younger son was a dancer as a kid and played Jackson in a dance production of "Thriller". When we moved here he gave up dance, except for a role in "Music Man" in Junior High School. Then his younger sister took up the mantle and danced through high school. I always loved dance, from toddlerhood through freshman year of college. And if I get a chance, I still cut a rug!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finished Stacey Abrams' romance novel, "Never Tell" and it was a fun read. She manages a mystery with a romance where the woman retains her dignity and the man is way too good to be true. It has a subplot of abuse that is detailed enough that readers can learn something about domenstic violence, grooming, and the abuse of power. Plus, it's set in New Orleans, at a university. I like that she is not uncomfortable about her romance authorship, and to me it makes her even more human. Like most of us women, she has delved into this genre. I used to read them when I had two toddlers and the bookmobile would stop at married student housing. And let's face it, "Jane Eyre", "Rebecca", the Jane Austen novels, and many other books I read as a teen were for me at the time aobut the romance. Romances teach other things as well: how to stand up for yourself as a woman, to hold out for the guy who is worthy of you, not the slick talker. They promise that if you hold yourself high, so will your partner. I don't know if her romance books will help or hurt her in her quest for Governor, but for me it says she's one of us, and is not afraid to be herself in all her complexity.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been listening to all my Radiohead CDs today. I danced a bit with some of the songs. It's very danceable music. I bravely tackled the grocery store this morning, as well as the post office. I wanted to mail 3 books to one of my grandsons. This afternoon I cut off two pair of jeans I'd bought and never shortened. It's not a bad job. I was going to take them to the dry cleaners for a professional job, but felt impatient and also, I hate to add to the cost. I like NYDJ jeans but it's hardd to find peptites that I want, and they never have any colors except blue and black. These are green and gray. I do love the pants because they are stretchy and super comfortable, but now that I don't go to the department stores to shop,I can't find anything online. The department stores are very depressing, but there is this local chain not too far from me, and there are jeans and a few other things I like, and at terrific sale prices. I shop for the grandkids there as well, and usually take my grandduaghter there when she visits. Lord knows I've got enough clothes, but a few things are finally wearing out and I've given away all my shoes that don't fit perfectly or I just don't wear. I have a very organized clotthes closet, and no stuff that doesn't fit me right now. I dress for me, in only colors I like, styles that suit me, and for comfort. But I still enjoy the attempt to look pleasant, regardless of my age.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday our older son, his wife and six year old son came down to our area and we met them at our daughter's house, where we had lunch, watched the kids play in the backyard and then took a walk to a nearby park and the three kids played while we pushed them on swings, spun them on gorounds and kept them from falling off slides. It was cold but so nice to get together, and we're all feeling better about exposure, though we wore masks on the walk and inside our daughter's house. I loved witnessing that the youngest grandson has quite a crush on his aunt and uncle, and let them hold him for long periods. I like to believe that when I'm gone they will be a support to each other, as now. When we returned home we had progresso soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, and watched "Far From the Madding Crowd" a 1979 movie with Julie Christie, Terence Stamp, Peter Finch and Alan Bates. I used to have such a crush on Bates, and I reminded my husband that we saw him in London, live in a theater in the play "Butley" or something like that. We were somewhat confused by the movie so this morning we looked up the synopsis of Thomas Hardy's book. The film was pretty faithful to the novel, but left out a cuuple of crucial plot points that should have been included. Julie Christie was the weak actor in the film. Perhaps, like Elizabeth Taylor, she was too beautiful to believe as a character. They both did better after they aged at conveying emotion. Taylor with "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" and Christie in "After Her". Today we are taking a break from our schedule: we ate a big breakfast and late, no walk, and no lunch. I'm reading a mystery novel of Stacey Abrams writing as Selena Montgomery and it's pretty good. And fun.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We tried Facetiming with our three year old grandson last night, but, as usual, he was tired and hungry after preschool, and just stared at us. Then I thought of reading to him, which I did, and he ate his dinner while I put on a floor show. That left my husband out, who got grumpy, and our dinner had been delivered and was getting cold, but such our the joys of online communication with the grandkids. When our six year old grandson Facetimes, all we see is the floor or the ceiling while he runs around like a banchee. Luckily, he is visiting my daughter tomorrow so I'll go there to have an in person interaction. we're all tired of Zoom and Facetime etc. I could have done a retreat this weekend, but couldn't stand the thought of a weekend staring at my laptop. Oh well, we actually got some slight rain yesterday and possibly there will be more this weekend. Every little bit helps. At least that is what I tell myself.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My friend yesterday, when we were discussing "The Sentence", said to me, in response to my statement that I hoped a Truth and Reconciliation commission would happen in America for both Indignious Peoples and Black people, that it would never happen. It shocked me a bit, that she would feel so certain that we will never make reparations for our treatment of this portion of our citizens. It seemed too dark and out of character. But I've been thinking about it since, and of course the sheer size of our country versus South Africa or Germany is a difficulty. Is she thinking the schism been red and blue is here to stay? Well, in point of fact, it has always been present in our country, from its founding, and caused a civil war that almost destroyed our union. Perhaps I am the Pollyanna. I believe these traumas have risen to the surface with the spotlight on killings of Blacks and Natives by police, by the increase in hate crimes against all groups, including Asians and Jewish people, and once something rises, it can no longer be covered up. Maybe my friend means we will not live to see it, and that I can believe, because we are in our midseveties and mid eighties. But I know history is cyclical, and therefore there is hope for change. There is no stairway to heaven called progress, but things do change, constantly and sometimes suddenly. Wounds are open because of Covid, but those can be be dressed and healed. I believe that is what Erdrich's book is implying, and I am hopeful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a walk with my friend this morning and afterward we picked up her six month old granddaughter so my friend could babysit. This afternoon I spent with my my Buddhist swim buddy discussing "The Sentence". We dove into the richness of it for two hours, then I left. Of course I stopped by one of my favorite bookstores and picked up a few delights. Ah, friends. They are essential to me. Since my husband slept badly last night, due to a bunch of things, he was a complete grump this morning. He had to go to the dentist, and therefore I avoided him pretty much all day. I bear no responsibility for his moods, and I'm done with attempting to cheer him up. I'm not a court jester. I'm so happy that book sales actually skyrockeed with the pandemic, and kindles, etc lost big. Books still rule with my generation and my kids'. Perhaps the grandkids will be another story, but so far - as they range in age from sixteen to two, they are avid readers. I hope that continues. I've learned so much from books, including my sense of right and wrong and understanding of what it is to be human. Books are a treasure, and precious to me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finished reading "The Sentence" by Louise Erdrich last night. I was thrilled with it. It seems quite a step up from even her previous novel, "The Night Watchman, which won the Pulizer Prize. There is so much humor and lightness in this tale, which encorporates serious issues with emotional psychology and current events in a way that makes the story whole and integrated. I loved that the pandemic is part of it, and the response to George Floyd's death and what language can do at it's most powerful. I really cared for these characters, and how like REAL Indigenious people they were. They were searching for who they were, how they fit in or didn't to white culture, and their ancient traumas visited upon each generation, haunting them and causing so much suffering. The book is about love, in the end, but along the way lessons are learned and a lot of joy comes to life, especially in the marriage of Tookie and Pollux. It is a truly full hearted story, and also a antheum to those of us who love books and bookstores. It's like Louise loosened up and let 'er rip. Read it!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Not only did I survive babysitting the two grandsons overnight, but all went smoothly. I got the older one to bed easily, and the younger one was already in his crib when his parents left. They slept until 6:45 am, and we had a breakfast of scrambled eggs and chocolate croissants. They bungled around until my husband came at ten, then we bundled them in the car and went to Little Farm to feed the pigs, cows, ducks, geese, chickens, and sheep. The rabbits cannot be fed but they may be admired. We found a picnic table on the grass and the boys had their lunches. A tree next to us had been fixed up like a fort, with branches making a hideout, and the boys found more branches and played happily for many minutes. Then we came home, and I put the younger in for his nap, and the older and my husband watched a kids' show about dragons. Then the older had quiet time for 30 minutes, and I only had to go in the room about three times to tell him to quiet down. Grandpa helped the older one assemble a toy I'd gotten him, and when the younger woke up they snacked then we went in their back yard where they managed to drag every toy out on the small lawn and destroy two boxes as a fort. We observed and kept them from climbing the back stairs to get to the upper deck. Soon their parents arrived and brought candy, which delighted us all. My husband received taffy, I got sugarfree chocolate almonds and the boys gummy sugary somethings that were colorful. Then we said goodbye, pleased that we had facilitated the parents getting away for their anniversary, and proved that we could keep their children alive and happy, at least for 24 hours. Back at home we made BLTs and watched "Bull Durham" and sighed with relief that it was R rated. Returned safely from toddlerland.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm going to babysit tonight for my daughter's two boys, and I'm nervous. I had developed a comfortable relationship with the older one, now five, and he had stayed with us while his parents went to Hawaii for a wedding, and also when his brother was born for a few days. But then Covid hit, and he's never spent an overnight again, and has become clingy with his parents. He always had trouble with his parents when he was dropped off for preschool, but everything has been exaserbated by the pandemic. He has no real memory of staying with us, and the enticement of treats or DVDs or Fairyland and other fun places has waned. It could be a rough night, but I'm willing to risk it because he needs to get comfortable being away from his parents occasionally. The just turned two year old may have trouble as well, but he's got a studier temperment and is at a better age for distraction. It's my daughter's wedding anniversary, and she needs a break and so does her husband. We talked on the phone last night about them going out at least one night every other week, and I've been babysitting that way once in a while. I had such fun with my foster granddaughter then my granddaughter, and last September we babysit for our oldest grandson, and he was wonderful about it. But these two little boys have been shaken up more than seems apparent by the pandemic, and the anxiety coursing through everyone they encounter. Our third oldest grandson has not stayed overnight because he's two states away and we will only see him probably twice a year. But he has his mother's family up there to stay with and probably already has. But these two a couple of miles away are needing help from us. Wish me luck!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This afternoon I've been listening to Mozart's Don Giovanni. I love the blended voices and switches in tempo and tone. I'm reading Louise Erdrich's "The Sentence" which is delightful. It's lighter and more joyful than anything else of hers I've read. My Buddhist buddy recomended it to me, though I'd already bought it. But I've waited a while to begin it. It's set in and around a bookstore, in fact, Louise's bookstore. I once wrote a novel where the main character owned a bookstore, and I loved the fantasy of it. I tried to buy a bookstore when I first moved back here, a feminist one, but it was too far in debt and the women themelves discouraged it. The location wasn't great either. But part of me wishes I'd at least tried. Later some women friends bought another bookstore close to me and made it into a welcoming, energetic place. It has a combination of books, gifts and plants. They just retired and sold it to a nice couple, who are doing right by the place. I tried to buy tons of books during the pandemic and they expressed their appreciation. It's like a home away from home for me. I'm so lucky: I can walk to five independent bookstores from my house. I feel surrounded by the comfort of it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I was a young teenager when Chekoslovakia was invaded, and people kept hoping someone would stop Russia. Now the Ukraine. No one will stop them now either. There is posturing, but nothing more. I am so sorry for those people who will suffer and die. It seems calculated that Putin would act aggressively while the world reels from a pandemic, and the state of panic and chaos is widespread. He has been encouraged by Trump as well, as though the deception perpertrated during our last election proved to Putin that he could get away with anything. He has chosen a time when Americans are relieved to be out of Afganistan, and weary, and feel hopeless about defending people in other countries. We didn't manage to help in Syria, and the Arab Spring is long dissolved. We've lost faith in ourselves and we bicker about who and what we represent as a nation. Putin has read us well.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had a little swoosh of rain last night early evening. At least it watered the plants. It had been over forty days of no rain. The Sierras are getting some snow, which is helpful, because it's snowpack that counts. I've lived where it rains all the time (Fiji) and growing up in states with enough rain, as well as seven years in Colorado, which was not in drought at the time, and I'm familiar with the cycles of rain and drought in California, but this drought is the longest in 1200 years. Everyone is conscious of it and worried. Fire is our fear, but even this time of year animals are suffering, trees are dying and the west is parched. One billion trees died in the last few years. Moving from Virginia to California as a kid what amazed me was the size of the trees here and how the forests were vast and primeval. Going back to the east coast on visits, the "woods" seemed almost toy, and the lakes surburban compared to here. We are losing something precious. We are the new Anatazi, and may be driven from our homes as they were a thousand years ago. Humans have always been at the mercy of nature and now they are destroying nature out of inability to look ahead and protect what we have. I'm pretty deeply disillusioned by our species right now, and our lack of concern for future generations. I want my grandchildren and others to have the gift of nature and the health it provides all of us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

One of the most challenging aspects to Buddhism for many people is the concept of NoSelf. I now realize for me it was one of the concepts that I quickly intuitively embraced. Why? I've been wondering. I think moving as a child made me pose in order to "fit in" and have friends. I kept my thoughts to myself and strove to be the clown and life of the party. When people bullied me I buried my nurt inside and on the surface made friends with those kids. When my father was working in the south, we were coached not to protest when we saw racism but to keep our mouths shut. My father was integrating plants and there were threats and he wanted to protect us. So I sat silent through Confederate flags, women having black women do all their work for them while my mother did her own work, and people discouraging us from interacting with Blacks. When we were in Calilfornia, a whole other shift occured, and I missed my friends in Virginia, but felt comfortable with the politics here. So I know I was shy/showoffy, funny/sad, smart/dumb, flirty/judgemental. I was whatever I felt I needed to be at the moment. My family never talked about feelings, so I was a mystery to myself and they were inscruitable to me. But I did know I wanted to be good and kind - I felt I had a Buddha nature, and that was my core: to treat others with kindness and myself as well. The rest, well, I wasn't KNOWN to others or even myself. When I think of my daughter who died, she appears so complex, that any descrption does not do her justice - it becomes a reduction and simplification of her complexity. I learned things about her during her dying and after her death I'd never known, just as after my parents died I learned crucial facts about their lives I hadn't known. They died young, like my daughter, so maybe there would have been revelations later, but really, who they were is mostly unknown to me. And who I am is also complex and contradictory and unexplainable. But our true nature, that I know. My parents loved us and tried their best. My daughter loved all her family and struggled with her feelings and associations around us. Her heart was noble, as was my parents' and brothers'. That is all that matters.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had our women's group this morning, and I could immediately tell how much more trust there is among us. We really share what is in our hearts these days, and feel confident that the feedback we receive is going to be sensitive and supportive. I feel close to everyone and it was hard for all of us to leave. I walked back home with a member of the group who lives on my street and we ended up talking for an hour outside my house in the cold. We could have gone on all day and night. I've known this woman since I moved here and our kids were best buddies in preschool. We met each other in Munich once, went on night cruises on a lake at Christmas to sing carols, attended each other's kids' weddings and admire each other's grandchildren. She, like me, has a friend who is undergoing treatment for metasized breast cancer whom she tries to support. She lost her husband to cancer, and I lost my daughter. We are linked by history and inclination. I am so grateful for these long friendships and how I can count on these women to be there for me whenever I need it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a lovely couple of days having lunch outside with a friend and then walking around the reservoir, and yesterday going with my husband, daughter and her two boys to this strange park by the waterfront and port, where you can see the trucks pull up with shipping containers and load them onto ships. The boys played first in the sand, then we strolled the younger boy while the older and our daughter rode bikes. Then we all sat on a bench to watch the huge cranes grab the containers, swing them up and load them onto the ship. Toddler or no, it's pretty fascinating. We could watch the ferry boats, the ducks and geese, and the sparkling water. When we returned home my husband and I relaxed until our daughter dropped off the older because the younger had a two year old pediatrician's appointment. We walked our fellow to the nearby store, where he picked out pushups and chocolate chip cookies, then we watched part of "The Secret Life of Pets 2". Our grandson laughed himself silly, and we like it too, so after his mother picked him up we saw the rest. Then we watched an old Sandra Bullock film "Murder By Numbers", which is in her usual vein of herself as sorrowful and unattractive (Yeah, right) but she does a good job. I can only think of two of her films where she isn't a sad sack: "Speed" and the one where she won the Oscar. How she gets to play an ugly duckling and unloved I'll never get. Just her miles of legs alone would make her a princess. But she cornered the market on the Buster Keaton sad sack pout.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The Weather is warmer and not windy today, so my friend and I had a nicer walk than yesterday afternoon. Even the coffee tasted better. We often discuss relationship issues, and find that our complaints are quite similar, though she is a widow and has had her partner living with her in her house only for the last ten years. I am coming up on 48 years of marriage with my husband, and we raised four kids together; my two from my first marriage and our two between us. My friend has two grown kids, and her partner has three grown kids, and they've never lived as a blended family. Yet the fact that we are women and they are men slots us in similar situations, universal you might say. Both of them are not comfortable with feelings and expressing feelings and act cornered if we try to described ours. But they are good guys at heart, and we only grumble to let off steam. Most of my friends are widows or unpartnered, so I have limited resources to talk about men. In my women's group, all but two of us are widows, and actually, my first husband is dead as well. I guess we're getting to that age, but these women lost their husbands in their forties. They raised their kids alone from ages around 10 and 13. They are warriors, for certain.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading "The Zen of Therapy" a new book by Mark Epstein, a psychaitrist. I've read several of his books before, and I find him easy to read and so helpful with his examples from his own life and his patients. Already, in the introduction, his description of his wfie realizing, without effort or intention, that her mother's worrying had automatically transfered to her, though it was not conscious, caused her to take a look and become aware that worrying was not necessary, and she need not carry it on her own shoulders to prove that she loved her mother. She could let go of worry, once she became conscious of it. It was not a useful habit, and had no origin in her own personality. I've had those epiphanies, where something I'd been hiding from myself I finally allowed myself to look at clearly and face what I'd been avoiding. One time, when I was doing walking meditation on a retreat, I suddenly realized my first husband had tricked me into marrying him so he could stay in this country after he flunked out of college. He did not tell me until later, and I buried it deep because the wound was too great. Another time I saw that the rage my mother and father carried was not mine. In fact, I never knew why they were angry, but I knew it had nothing to do with me. I didn't need to be loyal by taking it on, and it dissolved instantly. If we give ourselves space, quiet and time, we can look at what we were afraid to see and be kind to ourselves and lay down the burden. Meditation has given me that gift, again and again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The most amazing thing about my weekend at the cabin was that I did not fall and break something essential. We had to park below our hill and the first half of the road was snow covered over by ice, but I slowly and carefully make my way back and forth. My daughter helped me find my ancient snow boots, the ones with cleats sipped over the soles, and those and the walking sticks I'd brought up saved the day. The water came on, the heat came on, no trees had fallen and all was functional. My five year old grandson went off the next morning with his dad and skiied for the first time, then my daughter picked him up and my son-in-law skiied some more. Then we all went down to the lake and the four of them shedded. The two year old was fearless and the five year old sledded by himself brilliantly. Then we all slugged our way back to the cabin and my daughter fixed spagetti and meatballs and brussel sprouts, and I made hot chocolate with marshmellows for the five year old, and then we roasted some in the fire without setting the cabin aflame. Yesterday morning we sang happy birthday to the one turned two year old, and he opened presents, then they all facetimed with my in-laws. We went down to the lake to sled again, but the sled broke so we took a walk and snacked at a picnic table then headed up again for lunch, cupcakes and packing to come home. The newly two year old slept the entire way in the car, the five year old watched 1 1/2 Ice Age movies, and the three adults talked. I am so grateful I decided to go, because it was great to get away, and I helped my daughter handle the two little rascals. I was so tired last night I went to sleep at eight pm, but today I feel fine. My husband stayed back because of his leg, which has been bothering him, and watched Star Trek movies both nights, which really bore me. So we had a breather from each other and got to do exactly what we wanted. It's good to take a break from compromise.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm going to the cabin this afternoon with my daughter, son-in-law and their two boys. They are hoping to give the older son his first ski lesson. My husband isn't going up because he has a leg that is bothering him, and the cold and hiking are not a good idea. On Sunday it will be the younger boy's second birthday, and I'm bringing the Tonka truck I bought him as well as a jellycat pig and two baby pigs. We'll have cupcakes and balloons, which will be all he can handle anyway. My fear is something will be broken, or the water won't come on because the pipes have frozen. You name it, we've been surprised by it. When my older daughter drove to the cabin after Christmas with her daughter to meet friends driving up from Los Angeles, the power company picked that week to cut down trees, and it was so loud and irritating that everyone packed up and went home. When we next came up we discovered the water pipe had been broken by the heavy trucks they used. Then there are the mice, the racoons abiding under the deck and other joys. Oh, well, what can I do? Someone has to go up sometime. I just hope the power is on, the heaters and water work, and the boys see it as an adventure. Me, it's kind of like being in the Donner Party.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I watched "Isle of Dogs" by Wes Anderson last night. We'd only seen it once before, and, though I love Anderson, it's for his design and visuals, as there is not any real message in his films. They present a pseudo-adolescent point of view, and though joyous, do not exactly speak to me at my age. But this one isn't even joyous, and the dismal plot and inferences to the Holocaust are distasteful. Looking at the dogs is painful, and from my point of view the Japanese language, references and setting are racist. I won't watch it again, but then my taste for his movies has diminished over time. He's an artist, but I'm not the comic book affectionado it requires to sink into his stories. He's unique, and probably a lot less flawed than Terence Malick, but Malick has produced some absolute masterpieces among his experients, like "New World" and "Thin Red Line". I know what Malick is searching for: connection, but Anderson seems mostly out to amuse himself and his buddies. They are both geniuses, but I prefer the the one over the other. Just in case I sound high-fallutin', we watched an episode of Remington Steele beforehand. We own the first season and are rewatching it. Pure fluff, but delicious, like cotton candy!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

There is wind again today, and so everyone is jumpy. My friend and I walked anyway, but I'm a bit frazzled by it. We stopped by See's Candies so we could get a treat for my two grandsons I'll see this weekend and her almost granddaughter who is a teen. I also bought peppermint candies for my sweet tooth husband and a few sugar free toffees. She picked up something for her partner. We do errands on our way on our walks, so she stopped in a fish market to buy salmon, and later she left me to get milk at the grocery seven houses from me. It's supposedd to be 72 degrees today, which is great except for the fire/drought component. My husband and I are searching for a place to stay for our anniversary, but it's pricey. We can't quite decide, as we've been to every reasonably distanced area to drive to in a couple of hours or less. That's what we get for being married 48 years. And I am going with my daughter, her husband and boys this weekend to the cabin, so my son-in-law can begin to teach the five year old how to ski. I'll help out with the boys and just have a get-away. I don't love the cold or winter anymore, but I've not really had time with the boys in a while. And my daughter has been so overwhelmed with teaching she hasn't had a minute to do anything, but this week she is off and yesterday we went out to lunch and shopped a bit, finding birthday gifts for the about-to-be two year old, a shirt for each of us and some Christmas sale goodies at Sur La Table. It was so nice to have time with her again.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday we drove up th see our older son,wife and grandson. We were celebrating our son's and his wife's birthdays this month. It was a warm, sunny day, and none of us had been exposed to covid all week, so we dared drive to a nearby town and eat outside for lunch. We had tapas and olives and cheese bread and scallops and all good things. We took our leisurely time, and shared chocolate mousse, except for the six year old who had soft serve with chocolate sauce which he almost finished. Then we drove back to their house and watched the grandson show off his robot, which he had programed, and we strolled along beside him while he rode his new bike around a cul de sac. We left at four, having had a semi normal day, and having eaten not inside, but outside a really good restaurant with great food. We've all missed birthday outings so much, and what we missed this time was our daughter and family. Before covid we had a crowd, but now our younger son, his wife and child have moved two states away, and the older is comtemplating a move a state away this coming summer. We will be perhaps just our daughter, her husband and two boys. This stage of our family is the getting on with their own lives and not needing us for babysitting phase. My parents did a terrific job of traveling, playing golf, eating out with friends and playing bridge. But covid makes all of those kind of activities tricky, so we do hiking, walking with friends or reading, doing puzzles and watching DVDs. Socializing is the big challenge. Even our women's group took a hiatus for six weeks because of omicron, and we are all super careful. It's that we all have grandchildren whom we must protect, and some of theirs and two of mine are too young to be vaccinated. Today my husband and I are trying to figure out where to go for a weekend for our 48th wedding anniversary. The first place we thought of has a huge hot springs mineral pool, but then we figured that's not safe, with a lot of people breathing in the steam. Another place has jacked up their prices way beyond the amenities. Now we're looking at other places that seem safe and only an hour or two away. And what I'd really like is friends to celebrate with, and just stay home. Ah, well.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night we were supposed to go to an outside restaurant for Mexican food with our son-in-law and two grandsons, but everything conspired against us. Firstly,our son-in-law was late and with an almost two year old and five year old, they are melting down by the minute. The five year old wanted his stuffed kitties from their house, but we were at ours, and he refused to walk to the car. In said car he kept up the wheedling, and when we reached the cafe, there was no parking in the lot or nearby, so when we finally found a spot it was a long walk, again with the five year old balking. It was dark, it was cold, and when we got there the line was long and there were no tables. We finally left, and as we got back in the car, I said to drop my husband and I off at home. Going to their house was going to mean waiting for a food delivery and watching a toddler show on TV and more meltdown. My husband and I had Progresso soup and grilled cheese at home, and were exhausted and a bit depressed. I told my daughter today in a text that we really never took our own kids out to dinner, because kids that age are overtired and irrational. But her generation somehow thinks with a magic formula they can take out young kids. At 5 pm, maybe, but not at 7. I felt guilty for not staying and helping, but it had not been my idea to begin with. She was meeting with teacher friends, and we were meant to help our son-in-law handle kids, and they only wanted daddy. Only the younger one would even hold our hand, but then he had to be carried most of the time. Ugh. We try to be respectful and go along with whatever the parents plan, but sometimes, I think I should just opt out. Especially when I know it's not going to end well.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just finished taking a walk with a friend. We talk a lot about grandchildrem as we are so ethusiastic. She has a six month old granddaughter who is sitting up now, and I've got a box of toys for her age, that are way too young for even my youngest grandson. Tonight our daughter, son-in-law and their two boys are picking us up for a zoo lights show at five pm. We tried to get tickets before, but the holidays were swamped and also it was raining a lot then. The delima is dinner. We're bringing snacks and will see how we feel about buying food there. It may be too cold to sit outside and eat. We might have to keep moving, but we will try to bundle up. I'm bringing a flashlight because tripping and falling is my fear. I love this zoo, as the spaces for the animals are so generous and well thought out, and the animals seem healthy. I love the warthogs the best, but the kids love the giraffees and meerkats. I'm not sure if we'll be seeing many animals, as a lot of them have acreage and pasture away from the daytime enclosures. It will be interesting to see. We used to love the tigers - four sisters rescued from a horrible captivity in Texas, but they are all gone now. Texas does some pretty horrible things regarding exotic animals. I remember my brother taking me years ago to a restaurant which had huge animals in glass cages that you could see while you ate. It appalled me. I'm grateful my immediate family were not hunters, though some of my mother's relatives are. My parents only fished, and by six or so I didn't want to participate. I've been fairly squeemish ever since, and only eat poultry, fish and seafood, and not even all of that. No duck or squid for me. I've been vegan, when my younger daughter was a teen, but my husband suffered so I cook some meats now. But no pork. I like pigs.. And I can still remember my mother's mother slaughtering a pig and the blood dripping, a way that causes immense suffering to the animal. Lesson learned.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This is the second day of wind, and I keep looking up at the cedar tree, hoping more limbs don't come crashing down. I just returned from a walk with a friend, and it was kind of unpleasant with the cold, the wind and our noses running nonstop. We managed to each find a book to read from the Little Library stations along our way. I'll have to battle the wind again when we pick up our two grandsons, or maybe we'll drive, as they are both recovering from colds. Today is our older son's birthday and we serannaded him over the phone. We're hoping to get together Saturday, if none of us has been exposed to covid. We used to celebrate his and his wife's birthdays separately, but covid has erased that tradition. I feel for the east coast and midwest over these snowstorms they are enduring. Our son and our younger son and sons-in-law are such terrific parents, and handle so much childcare and nurturing. It's good to have lived this long to witness it. Right now the men are the primaries in three of the four cases, and the fourth makes up for it nights and weekends. Covid has pushed men to adapt and share responsibility and though covid is a nightmare, it has shuffled work and home in some pretty interesting ways. I'm so proud of these guys, and happy for their spouses.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

With our son-in-law's help, we took the memorial bench to a canning shop we've used before for our dining room chairs, and though it will take 5-6 weeks to be repaired, I felt relieved. All this damage is going to cost us a fortune, but we are well aware that structural damage to the studio or house wwould have been horrible, so we are calm and grateful. Our insurance inspector is not coming out until a week from tomorrow, but it is highly unlikely they will pay anything. We're just going ahead to replace what we've lost, but we are keeping the broken bridge, birdbath, hammock and pots here for him to look at. Today is another sunny day, and I hope to take a walk to purchase valentine cards and a tee shirt for my granddaughter. Also birthday cards, as this is a month of birthdays for our family. And I'm thinking shepherd's pie for dinner, so I'll stop at the store to get peas, an essential for the recipe. It is great to see the canning shop is still in business. There is an older couple and a couple of younger people as well, who I assume are learning the craft. Just seeing the wonderful old furniture, lovingly being repaired, is warming. I feel that way when I see a shoe repair shop or a clock repair place. I'm nostalgic. I used to always take my shoes to repaired, as well as handbags. Now I hope people recycle them to charity shops, but I'm afraid we are in an era of trashing. I still spray my shoes with weatherproofing and polish them when they need it, but my husband doesn't care for his shoes. Eventually he buys a new pair and treats them badly until they are embarassingly scuffed. I don't know if we were raised differently or he just can't be bothered. I love old things and have "vintage" clothes and shoes and bags. A boiled wool Mexican jacket I've owned for fifty years, and I have another wool coat I call my "Kim Novak" coat. I have no idea if my kids or grandkids will want them, but I hope someone does. It's history, and I believe there are still historians out there.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went for a walk with my friend today and we were talking about the grandmother delima. She has a six month old granddaughter, and I have two grandsons completely unvaccinated, so not only do we not get to see each others grandchildren, but we must avoid each other if either of is possibly exposed to covid. I haven't seen her granddaughter in months, and she hasn't been able to be around me at times because either she or I might have a possible exposure, and we're awaiting the results of tests. Since my two grandsons had RSV for a couple of weeks, and I didn't want to risk giving it to her granddaughter, We had to be careful and wee now wear masks when we walk. Only two of my grandsons are unvaccinated, and one lives two states away, but that one little guy rearranges my interactions dramatically. My friend was looking forward to her childhood friend and husband visiting when they were down here to visit their daughter and granddaughter, but the granddaughter then the daughter got covid, so my friend couldn't see them. They flew back early. It's all so complicated. But we all choose our grandchildren over friends, though that leaves us without all the support we could have. I'm hoping for a vaccine for 2-5 year olds soon. And not just for my sake but for their paarents' sakes.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My Buddhist teacher talked about equanimity today. An excellent topic for me. I've been carrying so much anxiety in my body that it's affecting me, and about things over which I have no control. Last night my husband and I watched the last show of Season seven of the Brokenwood Mysteries, and it involved a Maori woman in witness protection with two small children. She was diagnosed with cancer and wanted to reveal to her family where she was and her condition so her children would have love and support when she died. She looked like my daughter, and after the episode was over, I cried. But it was comforting, because it reminded me that we promised and are fulfilling that promise to love and be involved with her daughter, and, ironically, our younger son had visited our granddaughter and son-in-law that very day. Our daughter asked all of us to commit to her daughter's support, and we all have. And that's all we can do. She has a challenging life ahead of her, and so far she's faring well. And I can see more and more that our granddaughter has so much of her mother in her that we have not entirely lost our daughter. She lives in her child. Anyway, my teacher was saying that humans, with their ego, believe they can control life, and of course that is a delusion. We need to let go of that kind of responsibility. I have a perfect record of not having saved anyone from dying because that is not a power any of us possesses. I want to peel off any vestages of judgment about myself or others, because we can possibily sometimes control our own behavior, but that's about all we can aim for. If I keep the nature of reality in my sights, my anxiety will lessen, and I can stay centered in my life without the chatter.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Some of my friends have made really brilliant suggestions about how to repair/decorate my bench. On Tuesday we're going to take it to canning shop to hopefully be repaired, and when it's back, I think I am going to decorate it with some Moroccan symbols, images that my daughter painted, and ones that represent her life. Such a great idea. Turn broken eggs into an omlette. Today I talked three hours on the phone with my childhood friend - a world record for me. We discussed racism, history in public schools, how we ended up living where we live, what the future holds, and travel. We always do little vicarious armchair traveling. She may be going to Amsterdam and her itinerary includes an every ten years tulip festival. I hope it's not canceled and she gets to go with her friend. I described going to a tulip festival in Washington State, which is a possible substitute if she cannot travel to Europe. It has been a beautiful day here, and i did take a short walk with my husband and also get groceries. My endless chatter on the phone left me cramped for time, but it was worth it. It's great to talk to someone who has been a companion throughout your life and knows you inside and out. And we always discover new things about each other. Today: we both loved latin in high school, our algrebra teacher was a disaster, we've ended up back where we lived growing up. She's my witness to my past, as my sibling, parents and close relatives are all gone. She gives me continuity.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We just took a walk and the sun is out and spring flowers are emerging, like the snowdrops under our apple tree. I wore a puffy vest and was soon too hot, though the temperature was supposed to be 64. It didn't help that I had a turkey burger for lunch. I felt like a whole turkey was in my stomach. My husband and I have already agreed that we're having salads for dinner. I've been calling to see if anyone can repair the bench our son gave us last summer. The maker said no, but now I'm seeing if the people who repair cane chairs can possibly fix it. Repairing and duplicating our backyard furniture is a drag. And it's Friday, so lots of luck. Our insurance adjuster was supposed to come out but has not shown up yet. I feel pretty unmotivated. Right now I can see our neighbor cat Toby is sitting on top of our back fence looking up at the trees, no doubt hoping a bird will fall down into his mouth. Neither that nor sitting under the bird feeder has worked for him so far. But he's a hopeful kind of guy. He thinks positively. I need some of that optimism to rub off on me. On our walk we saw a squirrel a couple of feet away in a tree who was so fat and smug he paid no attention to us. The critter world likes this springtime weather and is as cheerful as a Disney movie. Next, I expect Snow White or Sleeping Beauty to sachet down the path throwing petals to the skies and singing with the birds.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is another sunny day. Everyone is going to have to begin watering their plants, and drought again looms, but most things loom right now. I am deeply touched that Supreme Court Justice Breyer is retiring, and giving the court a chance to balance more equitably. I presume the right wing will create as much pain and suffering as possible during the process, if there even is a process. Merritt Garland never got his chance. But right now, with everything unknown, many of us like to envision a Black woman as the nominee as the President promised. Let us have our few moments of hope. Why is it so hard to have a jury of our peers? Class and priviledge play a role, as only those who can afford to take eight dollars a day for jury duty and have childcare or are not caretaking can manage this civic duty. The truth is, our judges are overwhelmingly white and male and upper class. They judge people to whom they have no affinity or understanding. I'm reading a terrific book, "Noise", by the Nobel prize winner in Economics, Paul Kahneman. He and two other economists have done extensive studies that prove there is no consistency or fairness in judges' sentences, and judgements of exactly the same crime can have widely varying sentences. Judges are not fair and impartial, but then I think we all knew that. The research gives us insight into how irrational and biased humans are, even when they feel confident they are. So the Supreme Court is just as emotional and biased as the rest of our citizens. Even factors like climate temperature, tone of voice and appearance play a much bigger role than judges think. Random AI does a better job of sentencing but not by much. Simply put, the courts do a terrible job of impartiality. This illuminates why debates in Congress and among our citizens become so heated and blaming. As my Buddhist teacher says, we are not so evolved as we wish we were. Human fraility and failure is evident everywhere. Let's hope for the best with his nominee process but I think we'll all be unsurprised if it does not turn out to be a pretty picture.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The tree people were here all yesterday, so I didn't come out to the studio to do my blog. Today I noticed our bridge is broken, and plants in pots and pretty much everything in the back upper yard. So after they get the last two piles of wood, we will have a lot of broken stuff to haul out of here. Our son-in-law will help with that, but we will need a junk hauler to take it away. So the things needing replacing are for the grandchildren to enjoy. I can designed the back for them. This is sad, but no tragedy. it's not important in the larger scheme of things I know. But with all of us, these ordinary little things become tipping points after two years of fear, anxiety and grief. Today I go to the eye doctor to check out what is wrong with my eyes. Is it the syndrome I have, or something new? I'm remaining calm, but it doesn't help my mood. I had two friend encounters yesterday. A walk in the morning with my friend who is undergoing cancer treatment, and we had fun looking at houses in my neigborhood, and in the afternoon I walked over to another friend's backyard and we had tea in the sunshine. Then we walked back to my area together, as she wanted to stop at the grocery seven houses from me to pick up a few things. I showed her the memorial to a florist whose shop is right by me. He died recently, and he was such a kind, funny person with amazing artistic skills. I had noticed both he and the owner, a woman from Germany, were frailer and I worried about him when I saw him going to or from his car. We always had thirty minute conversations when I went in the shop to buy flowers. He was warm hearted and curious, and had a laugh that told you you had delighted him. I will miss his presence in the neighborhood. No flowers are by the door, and I thought of Princess Diana and the mountains of flowers. This man was good, kind, well intentioned and will be missed, but he's one of the millions of good souls who pass by almost unnoticed. Not by me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The arborist came by today, and he's not sure if the tree can be saved. There are so many trees down from the storm that it may be quite a time before our yard is safe and usable. What is most disturbing is the bench our son bought for us may not be fixable. Neither is the birdbath or hammock. These are not big things, but they disturb us. It's a like a car accident. You are in shock and feel immobilized. In the meantime we walked to the bookstore to purchase two books for our friend, whose birthday is today. He had canceled his party and was planning a dinner tonight, but now his grandkids are sick, and a couple that would have attended flew home because their granddaughter was sick and they might expose him. So it's just his son, and he must be disappointed. Everyone is experiencing the cancelations. Our women's group has postponed our meeting until the omicron is more under control. We could have zoomed, but we're all pretty sick of that. At least my husband and I took a good walk on a sunny day, and accomplished some errands: fixed his eyeglasses, went to the bank, bought the books and then dropped them off. We got home and I picked up sticks in the back yard, moved a table in the living room, restacked art books, and washed and trimmed green beans for dinner. Later we will pick up the two grandsons at preschool and see them for the first time in over two weeks. I've just got this feeling our distasterous back yard will be of major interest to two bungly toddlers.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, it's beeen a heck of a few days. I had a migraine headache Thursday, the first of my life, I believe caused by my new houssecleaners using Clorox with abandon, and I really sufferend for 24 hours. Since then my eyes have had problems, so I need to see my eye doctor tomorrow. Friday morning we woke up to a huge tree branch from our cedar tree having crashed into everything in the backyard and demolished our bird bath, hammock and breaking one of the legs on the bench our son gave us to remember our daughter by. It can be fixed, but the metal hammock frame and bird bath are toast. We're so lucky, though. Neither the house or studio was touched, except a branch pushed open the door of the studio and I just swept out a lot of branches and mess. The tree guys sawed up branches to clear the walkway to the studio, and we await the arborist to see what needs to be done or if the tree must come down. My stress level is super high, and my escape into reading not possible with my splotchy sight. I can read, but it's distressing, so not really the rx for my mental state of mind. I know Things could be way worse. How could I not know that with the news and my kids and grandkids having to isolate from omnicron cases and in and out of school like yoyos. But allow me to whine a little bit, just for today.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Now my daughter-in-law has been exposed to Covid in her fifth grade classroom. She has ashma, so we are all nervous. Every day there is a reminder that we are not out of the woods yet. I just finished calling my childhood best friend on her birthday. Her college roommate is visiting, which makes it so nice for her. They are preparing a big brunch right now, so I didn't talk long, but she was pleased with the book I sent her and sent a delightful photo of her holding it. As we've aged, and not had the incessant demands of motherhood and work pressuring us, we have become closer, and share our deeper feelings and provide support to each other. We had planned a trip to the northwest, possibly Vancouver, B.C., but of course all the planning has been put off because of the omicron variant. We have three family birthdays coming up in February, but whether any of us will see each other is another question. Uncertainty. Something Buddhists are supposed to get comfortable with, but really, do we ever?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

This morning I Finished Rickard Powers' "Bewilderment". I cried at the end. It is such a soulful novel, and so timely. It's filled with the sorrow of our present day existence: climate change, extinction, capitalism run rampant and blinded politicas, that it enabled me to mourn some of what our country is playing out, and not our country alone. I really cared about the three main characters, and my emotions were engaged throughout. The book expresses what I fear and hope for my grandchildren and their future. I'm making it sound daunting, but it is an easy read, with short chapters and so much lush description that it expands the mind. It's clear connection to Buddhism was comforting, and it's heart is to pray that all sentient beings be spared suffering to the extent possible as humans. I found the message profound.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a walk with a friend today. Her partner had to cancel his 75th birthday party because of Omicron. They know people who, though fully vaccinated and boostered, have gotten the variant, and it's a little too cold to do the party outside right now. It's adding to a long list of celebrations not happening, events not occuring, and rituals not able to be attended to. She was feeling a bit low, and when I returned home my son said his son had been exposed today to Covid in his classroom. Everyone's jumpy. I won at Scrabble this afternoon, a rare occurence because my husband is more skilled and has phenomenal luck as well. But this time, I got the J,X and Z and he couldn't use the Q he drew for lack of a U. Otherwise he would have won. In the morning paper now there are more word puzzles, and he's been asking me about them, which is fun. I lend him my phone of Fridays to do the NYTimes News Quiz, which I usually score a bit higher. More trivia packed in my brain. And thus the days pass without enough stimulation and social interaction, but what can you do?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

It's a sunny day, and we have taken a walk, had lunch and are possibly going to work on our photos again after a long hiatus. Unfortunately, I have no excuses to avoid it any longer. I've been thinking about watercolors. I had a brief period when I did some little paintings in watercolor that seemed to work out well, years ago, when I was on retreat with my Zen teacher. I have them hanging up in the downstairs bathroom (well, they are not THAT good). Another yen I havee is to buy more fabric and make some runners, placemats and napkins. I used to do that, and every time I eat at my daughter's house, I noticee some I gave her years ago. I just want to create SOMETHING, even if it is awful. I have very limited skills with which to work. I used to frame some photos I did, but noticed when I gave them to people they disappeared, so that was a hint there was not much talent there. When people ask me what I wish I could have been, I usually say: painter, costume designer, or play an instrument. I've already tried writing, and was a resounding failure, but never a day goes by when I don't write. I write in my blog, in my gratitude journal, in my Buddhist notebook, of not scribble some poems or a memoir like piece. But I hunger for a different expression of my feelings, something not involving words. It would still be a kind of speech, but more from the heart perhaps. We'll see if I take up a project. I think I'm desperate enough to try it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went for a walk with my friend who is undergoing treatment for cancer. She is faring pretty well with the pill she takes. So far no negative side effects. Today the sun came out, and we took our time stopping in front of landscaping we liked and admiring certain houses. Then we sat on the deck in her back yard and confessed we don't believe there will be any end to this covid threat. There will be other variants, maybe worse ones, and we will have to venture out eventually. My son's in-laws are going to Palm Springs for a month, and my friend leaves next week for Hawaii. We will take risks because otherwise we will be in permanent lockdown, like prisoners with electronic bracelets. I'm not sure what my big first risk will be, but I expect it will be traveling. Maybe to see the two grandchildren up north, or somewhere warm. The thing is, when I do this, I hope it is with a couple of other people, so that I will have social interactions. My daughter was constrained by the vulnerability of cancer and the covid, but she didn't live any longer because she was cautious, and perhaps she was past social interactions, but the choice was not hers. She ended up with me and her ex-husband and daughter, and not her close friends. Maybe that was because we would miss her the most, but it must have made it hard. I hope not.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We decided to take a drive this afternoon, and I have the carsickness to prove it. My husband had an idea of getting to this river and following it, but when we found it chemical plants and power stations and other lethal looking structures marred the shoreline and were gated and locked, so we were left thinking they'd picked the river to dump pollutants in more easily. The town was depressing and we meandered trough another depressing town until we turned around and I showed him a sweet town of 30,000 that had a charming courthouse and lots of antique stores and shops and cafes. We did not get out, because this is so not the time for exposing oneself, and we'd already taken an hour walk right before lunch. What depressed me about the adventure was how far out people have to live to be able to afford housing, and what dreary, tract house buildings they are forced to inhabit. I felt guilty about my fortunate circumstances, and imagined my new cleaning lady having a long commute and living in a soulless abode with no greenery around. Life is unjust, and I hate to feel as priviledged as I am. I can only enjoy my house because I bought it thirty years ago, at a price that wouldn't buy anything today. I am old and therefore I benefit from not having moved in over three decades. I guess I'll go back to walking with frriends around my neighborhood, and not exploring the darker recesses of capitalism.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I got up at dawn to go get a lab test, and when I got there remembered I have not been able to master the urine sample. I can't pee! This is the opposite of my normal life, where I have to pee if I look at a drop of water on a leaf. Sure enough, I tried drinking a cup of water, but only a trickle appeared. I was pretty shaken up, because I'd been worrying about catching covid at the lab, and had neglected to consider the one thing that might keep me in there longer. After I returned home, I found that not only had I been awake since five am, but my husband had not been able to go back to sleep after I left him. After careful consideration, we have decided to swear off the Brokenwood Mysteries CDCs for a while. We've been watching two a night, and that is three hours of mayhem, and evidently we don't have the consitutions for it. I had begun closing my eyes during the autopsy scenes, but that is not enough. We have joked that in a fictional town of five thousand in New Zealand, at the rate the series is dispatching bodies, there will be no inhabitants left, just dead people. We used to watch Death in Paradise, and had the same complaint. For such a tiny island, there seemed to be an unlimited amount of victims of violence. Perhaps our Covid empacted brains cannot deal with this kind of mortality in fiction. We've got more than enough of it in our real lives.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I couldn't sleep last night. Right before bed I felt like I needed an antacid, but failed to take one. I don't know if my husband's restlessness caused my own, or dinner upset me or I was nervous because I wanted to do lab tests this morning. I'm a great sleeper normally, and I was kind of stunned I didn't drift off. This morning I finally gave up and got out of bed at 9:20. My husband had had a bad dream, but I refused to hear about it, I was too grumpy about my lack of sleep. He always promises he will sleep in the guest bedroom if he's restless, but he never does. Anyway, I did not do my lab test so I will go tomorrow. We did take a walk this morning, but I feel depressed and disoriented. I know lots of people have trouble sleeping, but it's a shock for me. Seeing the headlines on my phone doesn't help either, and writing birthday cards and mailing them didn't help. I need to buy three birthday gifts, but can't make myself go out to look. I'm depressed that my youngest grandson is out of preschool again with a cough and had to do a covid test yesterday, and his parents are forced to take turns skipping work to take care of him. If it wasn't for covid, I'd happily watch him, but until we get the test results, I shouldn't. I am deeply discouraged about the pandemic, like everyone else, and I have trouble wanting to read, watch TV, walk, talk on the phone and other distractions. It's like a bad Groundhog Day.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Two sounds that have been comforting me recently are a frog croaking in our backyard, or somewhere very nearby and an owl hooting at night. I can'y sight either of them, but I love knowing they are close by. In my neighborhood I've seen, over the years, a huge buck deer, opossums, racoons, a gray fox, squirrels, and the endless array of rats. There is the cat Toby who meanders around our yard, hoping for birds, but too big and clumsy to catch any. We have a bird feeder attached to a window in the sun room, so we see a variety of birds. But the unseen...the experience is special. Years ago I hiked a way up past part of the campus to see two baby Great Horned owls sitting in a tree. Their parents were further up the hill watching, but the path had been blocked off for dogs and the people who came up were quiet and respectful. Two crows live in the parkway across from my steps and often greet me if I'm coming or going. They never fly away because they reccognize me and because I always talk to them a few minutes. There is a Peregrine falcon and his mate who have nested for years in the Campanile on campus, and recently a male ursurper attacked the male, who had to be treated at a wildlife center, but he's back now with his mate. There is a whole, mostly silent and secret world we live among here.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, a new bright spot in our firmament is pig hearts. As if we hadn't already thought of a million ways to torture animals, and made BLTs the sandwich du jour, now we can use pigs for body parts. Actually, I think I have a few pig body parts already, and without the surgery. I won't eat pork, because I know from my twp grandma's farms how intelligent and sweet they are. Plus I've seen "Babe" a few times. I know, it saved a man's life, but really. Our collective souls are on fire for what we humans do to animals, and this just puts the icing on the cake. Would I refuse a pig heart? Perhaps if I were young and my parents wanted me to live, but, no I don't think so. I am not stupid, I know research does awful things to bring me medicine to aid in my survival. I don't want to know about it, but vaguely, I do. I once was a pork entree on Halloween, when I was in graduate school, but that was not serious. Somehow, this is so sciencefictiony that I envision a rise of the planet of the pigs, and I for one could coexist with the new world order. How could it possibly be any worse than the world we have now?!?

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just got off the phone with my therapist. Her husband was in Mexico with some of their grown kids when he got Covid, despite being vaccinated. It was mild after a day and a half of cough and running nose, and he's fine now. My friend's daughter, her husband and four kids also got it and after a miserable couple of days, got better quickly. It seems to be true that the new varient variant is less servere. I'm trying to balance being careful and not freaked out, and am more or less successful throughout the day. Now I'm going for a walk with a friend, and we will no doubt hash this out again along our route. Such is the post Covid world we live in.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

An older friend has moved from one senior living situation to another. She's in her nineties, and definitely needs care, and her daughter is managing her care well, but the first place, while new and spotless, had no activities going on, no outside space whatsoever, and is on a busy thoroughfare with only box stores arond it. It depressed me when I saw it. Now she is in a place where she can walk with her cane, shop at useful places, and take a bus wherever she wants. The first place had no oversight except an executive flying in once a month. Impartial and and profit oriented is how I'd describe it: the corporate model. I hope she'll be happier in the new place, and it's closer to me, so convenient for visiting. But watching older friends struggle with care has made me realize there are not many gems among the choices. Even if you have the money to afford these places, and that's a big if, they are institutional, and run by underpaid, unqualified and undertrained staff. Yes the Covid crisis drew attention to the horror places, but most are not well regulated and really beneficial to the people living in them. The U.S. needs an overhaul of all medical services, oversight and affordable care, with salaries to attract qualified people to be administering the care. Those who choose to believe the TV ads that find a joyous, loving place for "Mom" are outright lies, and our senirs deserve better. But in our current culture, we don't value the elderly, as witnessed by citizens who were fine with the deaths from Covid as long as it was people their parents and grandparents ages. That contempt for our elders is center stage right now, and we ought to pay attention, before we have to face the same choices.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yes, January sixth haunts me, as it does so many of us. I'm glad the President and Vice President have spoken up, because the reconciation effort has proved fruitless. Reason, facts and logic are not what Republicans want to hear. They want to play games with our democracy, for their own benefit, not those of their constituents. We have to keep speaking the truth, so that the discourse is not dominated by lies and distortions. This situation is sadder and more serious than Covid. We are not honoring our Constitution and rule of law. We have a precious, always fragile democracy, and people are actively undermining voters and our governmental process. These far right persons are ignoring their oaths and responsibilities in order to shore up power to remake our country into a place where only the rich get a say in what happens, and the poor are held in contempt. It's a very different environment from the Depression of the 1930s, when government lifted people up and made them feel valued. Is it fear of change, fear of a multicultural country, fear of priviledge withdrawn, or some horrible combination of the Internet and it's lies and fantasies that has loosed this terrible, selfish, uncompassionate wave. I know we must, like the Little Dutch Boy, hold back the crack from breaking apart our foundation, to save us all from drowning.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, we took down our holiday decorations, dragged the tree to the curb, where we will have to cut it up to fit in our compost bin, and have everything boxed up to take down to the basement. We are hoping our son-in-law will do that, as some of the bins are gut wrenchingly heavy, due to my collection of snow globes. Now I only buy wool felt kinds of decorations, but back in the day, I hardly gave a thought to lugging stuff up and down. Times have changed. I also picked up eye vitamins, a wreath for the door, and some new books. Tomorrow I will get my new glasses lenses exchanged, talk to my doctor on the phone, and begin to write thank you notes. I am beginning to feel that January hopefulness, due to longer days, many family birthdays, and the possibility of going up to the cabin after the snow disappears. Yes, I am worried about omnicron, and I alternate between fear and hope. My granddaughter can get her booster now, and soon they will have a dose for the almost two and almost three year old grandsons, but their schools and preschools are risktaking in practice, so there is always the anxiety haunting us. This is how we live now. But it does mean every interaction feels precious, not a given.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

So it's the new year, which, most importantly to me, means the days are getting longer. I welcome that and the crazy spring flowers that will pop up here, due to our confusion of seasons. It's been cooler for longer than I remember, so maybe the daffodils and grape hyacinth will stall. I would normally be thinking of trips to take and maybe more socializing, but the varient has taken care of those dreams. Enjoying my two grandchildren who are close by and visiting the one an hour and a half away is my joy these days, plus talking with friends on the phone and walking with ones who are willing to venture out. It's time to take on a task. Last fall I was absorbed in my daughter's memorial service, but now I think I need a writing project and possibly a sewing one as well. I have thank yous from the holidays to write, and a couple of letters in response to Christmas cards. I could look again at the forty some pages I wrote about my daughter last summer, but it would be painful. Then there is the physical I should probably schedule with my doctor and lab tests etc. Ugh. That prospect is highly unattractive. Oh, well, I'll find things to do, books to read, music to listen to, and just appreciate all the quiet moments, when I'm not anxious, and gratitude waves over me like a warm bath.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I just listened to a dharma talk by my teacher Anam Thubten, about having the intention to rewire our consciousness by pausing in our thoughts to be aware of deeper issues we wish to work on. As I told my granddaughter a couple of days ago, I have my Buddhist vows to challenge me and work on, and they will take up the rest of my life. This blog is about right speech, but all the eight vows bear attention. When I am ready to sleep at night, I first write in my gratitude journal, then pray. I'm not asking some deity for help, and am focusing my mind on the people I love, paying respect to their needs, feeling compassion for them, and in some cases expressing my fears openly. My mind thus is on the things that count, not the rest of the white noise in our lives. I sleep really well, and seldom have dreams that our memorable or disturbing. When I do, I welcome them as a way my mind is working on my deepest fears and losses. Intention takes us beyond thoughtless habits, and refocuses us on what matters. I do this pausing many times a day, and feel a surge of energy when I do. It's like screwing my head on straight again. It needs to be done a great deal in my case.