Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I attended a friend's 85th birthday celebration, and it was a perfect right speech event.  She had invited all of us because she wanted to thank us for all the food, company and help she received during her recovery from knee surgery.  So it was a gratitude event.  She had food for us, and we were all connected by our right action in regards to our friend.  This made it so easy to talk to people, even if they were strangers to me, and unlike my usual shy self, I felt pretty comfortable and sure of a friendly encounter if I stood by someone.  I left feeling happy and relieved.

Social events can be marred for me when people cluster in groups and don't include strangers.  The one-upsmanship thing about how long have you known her and how close are you is maddening to me.  Some people want to know what you do, meaning how important are you.  Others need to know where you live, so they can place you.  None of that was happening yesterday.  People asked how we knew the hostess, and that was a good opener for connection and further conversation.  Little granddaughters were serving food, and they relaxed the atmosphere.  The good will was pallitable.  Right intention was set by the hostess and permeated the air, and the result was warm and loving.  Ah.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm amazed at how smoothly the writing group I'm in runs.  Right speech is so present.  Last night we took the time to talk about being blocked and intimidated about writing, and it was heartfelt and important.  One of the participants reminded me I'd not followed through on a promise to send her prompts to help her get started on writing a piece.  I had truly forgotten the minute I'd promised her, and I felt a pang for my thoughtlessness.  I had agreed many weeks ago.  But mainly, I was so grateful she trusted me enough to remind me.  Another person also wanted prompts, so this morning I've just finished sending the group 20 prompts.  It was easy for me to do:  but evidently I needed a prompt myself to get the job done.  This time I wrote a huge reminder note last night, then carried it to the computer with me this morning, determined to get the deed done before forgetfulness overcame me yet again.

And I had such fun thinking up these prompts.  It was not a task to dread, not at all.  One of my problems is I am a morning person.  I wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed, as they say, and run down like a clock throughout the day.  By evening, my promises are no good, my brain is half asleep and work does not get done.  Because this is a night group instead of daytime, which I would have preferred, I'm really not at my best.  I make it through plays and dinner parties by napping beforehand or caffeine.  I'm grateful that last night made me again aware of these personal limitations.  I can counter them, if I'm diligent.  I want to bring my best self to this group, and I fear I have not been doing that.  It's never too late, however, as Suzuki Roshi said, so armed with new resolve, I am going to listen and learn and improve with the help of my friends.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm enjoying the after effects of the retreat last weekend.  Right speech from the two lamas is buzzing around in my head, and yet, I've hardly spoken a word, so the practice is still intangible.  I found myself more compassionate even in my prayers, though.  I pray every night for my son's and daughter-in-law's unborn baby, hoping he's healthy and comfortable and knows how many people love him already.  And in doing so, I can clearly see that he's got his challenges, even right there in the cosy womb.  He's growing and changing at such a pace that all his nerves must be on high alert, and perhaps mommy eats something that disagrees with him, or a loud sound startles or he really doesn't like Beethoven.

This degree of empathy with baby is such that I think of my own birth and probable feelings beyond memory, and know that all babies have pain, confusion, and struggles.  It's a lot of work getting situated, growing by leaps and bounds, getting crowded out, then the trauma of birth.  He's got his hands full.  I feel compassion therefore for my own birth and those of every other being.  The being born is so precious and such a gift that it's worth the effort, and most babies have beings loving them and welcoming them to the world.  But I'm going to spend some time loving those ones who are not so fortunate:  those beings I may not know, but with whom I share this gift of life, and the joy of being human.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just finished a weekend retreat that was quite lovely and inspiring.  The subject was tonglen, a form of meditation where you focus on someone who is suffering, breathe in the suffering, dissolve it and then breathe out lovingkindness.  Today my brother would have been 65.  I cannot heal him or alleviate his suffering, but I pray for him with love.  One of the touching moments of the retreat was suggestions for dying.  The idea is to convey to loved ones your wishes:  maybe you want people to sing to you, or quiet or encouragement or to hold your hand.  Thinking about what you want ahead helps you and your family and friends.  It's an act of compassion for self and others. 

I will be feeling and thinking about this retreat for a long time.  I'm so happy I made the choice to attend.  I think of it as an investment in right speech.  I heard so much and had much modeling for my own life outside the sangha.  I have a lot more tools in my workbox and I plan on practicing them to become more sensitive and kind in my speech and actions.  I feel fortunate and grateful.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our older son and our daughter-in-law are expecting a baby boy at the end of September.  We've been sworn to secrecy until now.  Talk about struggling with right speech!  Earlier this week my friend asked if they were going to have children and I had to beat around the bush.  Her daughter is expecting at the same time, and it was hard not to spill the beans.  I'm like my mother that way.  She would be so excited and dying to share.  She'd grown up in a family of 13, and so secrets were hard to come by.  They slept 4 to a bed in a tiny house.  Nobody had any privacy.  Her fun was all shared experience.  I must have inherited that desire, though I have no excuse.

What a relief to tell my friends and feel their happiness for the couple and the whole family.  And my joy has expanded with the telling.  Does it make the baby more real?  It certainly takes a village to raise a child, and I seem to be inviting my world to share in this event, and pray for the health of the baby and the safe delivery of this precious little being.  He has so many good wishes flying his way.  A birth is renewal and affirmation.  This gift of life is our most dear present.  We honor all life when we help the parents with this most profound of transitions. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been watching PBS' "Cancer:  Emperor of All Maladies".  I was riveted by the book, which I read after our daughter was diagnosed with breast cancer, and the six hour series does a faithful and powerful job of capturing the book.  Last night, when they were talking about palliative care, I wept as I saw the young doctor tell her patient he might consider foregoing further treatment and look for quality in the time he had left.  Talk about right speech.  How do give the truth to patients who might not wish to hear it?  She clearly fished around with her patients before she made suggestions and offered up the likely outcome.  That in itself is a gift.  Seeing the patient's reaction made me admire his courage so much.  He struggled to adjust his view of his future.  I saw that with my father, who at first could not hear his prognosis, especially as it came from me instead of his surgeon.  He had possibly 8 weeks to live.  Still he talked about visiting his brother in Florida for Christmas, and when he finally got angry, and went to his own physician, that doctor told him to go home and die.  So he had wrong speech at both extremes:  being unwilling to convey the news and being brutal in telling him what was so.

My own father's courage amazed me at the time.  He planned his own funeral, said his goodbyes, stopped eating and speaking much and died in 7 weeks.  Everything had been said and done and he knew it.  We would sit in silence as I rubbed his hands with cream.  The love was palpable, and I saw him slowly leave his body until he was gone, and I sat with him for hours after he'd been declared dead.  Ordinary people's courage is uplifting and amazing.  And so many face their fate with quiet determination to live and die with dignity. 

There are doctors who cannot face the fact of mortality, and either escape or are abrupt.  Then there are the mostly compassionate doctors and nurses who "see" the patient, allow themselves to become attached, to care, and and to grieve.  They are present, which is the greatest dignity you can bestow on a patient.  They do not turn away, or obsess about their own mortality; they keep the focus on the suffering of their charge.  That is respect.  And we all deserve it and should practice it ourselves.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night we went out to dinner for our anniversary.  I was noticing that we carefully pick topics when we're out, especially at one of those restaurants where you are close to other tables.  Some of our "safe" themes are films, books we've read, plans for a trip, and news articles that are not "hot buttons".  Our family, friends and other subjects are off limits, because we live in a small community and you never know who might be sitting next to you.  But it's kind of funny as well, because sometimes it feels like I'm in a spy movie and being sly about what I say.  Yet this is right speech, because mentioning names could hurt and people do listen.  I know because I've overheard talk myself.

I especially feel that political topics are unsafe in public.  You may very well be offending someone, and disturbing their peace.  But even so, the truth is I'm not so fiesty about most politics these days.  The whole arena is dualistic, when the problems to solve are complex.  I don't get so hot under the collar and am inclined to attempt seeing the other side's point of view as dispassionately as possible.  If there is to be dialogue and compromise and action, then there must be listening openly and fairly. 
There are urgent matters, but lots of deep breathing and equanimity will get a person further along the road to solutions.

So what we had last night was "dinner conversation".  It was pleasant, the food was excellent, the mood calm and warm.  A perfect night out or even night off from the world.