Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I listened to my Buddhist's teacher's dharma talk on "The Heart is the Medicine" and it felt so true and comforting.  We get so caught up in our minds, but our minds are never going to free us from anxieties.  Our minds are stuffed with thoughts, things people have said to us, and information that causes fear and tension.  Our minds cannot get us out of the box we are in.  I've been paying attention to my eye with the bleed, too much attention, until I've made myself almost crazy, and monitoring my weight and diet, as well as testing my blood sugar.  It's of course good to be aware of my behavior and body, but right now I'm on overload, and it's freaking me out.

Anam Thubten suggests we listen to our heart, not our mind, and perhaps I need to listen to my heart about my body.  I am taking good care of myself.  I cannot control the eye disease, only trust in my doctor to take action when I need it.  My weight is going down.  My blood sugar is within control levels it should be.  So what is happening?  For one thing, I'm blaming myself and feeling guilty I have these health issues.  Yes, I'm overweight, but when I began taking medication for Graves Disease many years ago I knew I would have a difficult time avoiding weight gain and diabetes and other problems.  These problems are common and everyone has problems, and mine could be a lot worse.  And it's my mind that jumps to catastrophe, and obcesses about garlic bread, not my heart.  My heart knows I'm blessed.  I have an amazing family and friends, and a great living situation. 

My mind goes around like a rat in a cage.  My heart calms the activity going on upstairs and reminds me how grateful I am for eye treatments, great doctors, excellent health insurance and support from everyone around me.  My heart feels the love, and if I let it, will love me tender, as Elvis would say.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We're doing some travel writing in my writer's group, and I thought today of my trip to Morocco with my best friend a few years ago.  We flew in to Casablanca, then took the train to Marrakesh, where we stayed for four nights before traveling on to Meknes, where we met my daughter and son-in-law, who were living and teach in Ifrane.  We had a great time at two different riyads off the great square in the center of the medina, enjoying the souks, the throngs of people, the food.  When we got on the train again, men helped us lift our bags and manage the steep stairs.  Everywhere we went people were curious.  Two women traveling alone?  We faced many blunt questions.  Most people relaxed when I said we were going to visit my pregnant daughter.  Ah, a mother.  They could relate to that.  But on on trip to Meknes, a teenage boy engaged my friend, not to be friendly, but clearly because he thought that though a youth, he was, after all, male, therefore superior in intelligence, and he asked rude and prying questions with the rest of the car as his audience.  My friend, being in charge of student affairs at a respected university, was highly skilled and answering transparently, without rancor and defensiveness. 

The youth gave up after he couldn't offend us, and we smiled at each other with amusement and tolerance.  We were wise women, but nobody at home acknowledged that fact either, so we traveled incognito.  But my friend's right speech:  engaging, but without need to take a side or win an argument, has stuck with me.  I have no hope the boy learned anything.  He did not seem receptive.  But just maybe.  Just maybe we've stuck in his mind a little bit as he's matured.  You never know.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday my son helped me plan for my husband's birthday a few months hence.  We got a lot done, and as we were doing it online and by phone, I was struck yet again with how smooth and poised our son is with people.  He has such a friendly, easy manner and people respond really well to him.  He has a flash of my father, who loved engaging with others most of the time, and even mannerisms that remind me of my dad.  What a gift it is to instinctually know the way to speak to others.  I'm sometimes able to engage well, but I'm shy, so with strangers or people on the phone I don't appear open or friendly.  All of our kids are better at the poise thing than my husband and I, and what a blessing it is.

I really enjoy people, and love a chat, but in groups I freeze.  Groups trigger an ancient shyness from the experience of being the new kid in the classroom.  I lose all confidence that anyone would want to meet me.  I feel I have nothing to offer.  But I can see this is narcissism on my part.  Really, other people are shy as well and feeling like deer in the headlights.  If I can keep the focus on the other person I behave better and DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY.  What a concept, as my dad would say.  If I concentrate on putting others at their ease, I warm up.  "Get over yourself" is an excellent mantra for me.  And it's gratifying to see my kids have leaped over that hurdle way ahead of me.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My foster granddaughter learned a lesson in right speech this week.  A friend of mine wanted to get together with her two granddaughters and my foster granddaughter, and when I suggested it (they have gotten together a few times before and had fun), my granddaughter wanted to hold off on accepting, because she was hoping her friend would invite her that night for a sleepover to see her baby rabbits.  Perhaps her mother explained to her that waiting until the last minute was rude, or maybe my telling her mother I was uncomfortable saying my friend's plan was second choice for my granddaughter had an impact directly or indirectly, but when I picked my granddaughter up from school on Wednesday, she said she wanted to go with us.  She may have checked with her friend and it was a no go, or her mother had a talk with her, or she realized she had to give a yes or no.  I did not inquire.

I simply acted as if I was glad she was able to come, but it was no big deal, with no anxiety behind it on my part.  On my own, I had decided to refuse the invitation that day if my granddaughter couldn't commit.  I was too uncomfortable with promoting what I thought was rude behavior.  And I was not going to even imply that my friend and her granddaughters were distant second place choices.  That would have been hurtful speech.  I was just going to say my granddaughter already had made other plans. 

I'm grateful my granddaughter rose to the occasion, and did not hurt me or my friend or her granddaughters.  We're going to the movies and for pizza, and what's not to like about that?!  So all's well that ends well, and without any lecturing on my part. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've been following the stories about sexual harassment at my alma mater, and today a woman, married with five kids, who had complained about her boss to little avail, came forward publicly to describe her anguish and frustration.  She got a strong response once she finally filed a lawsuit.  I'm a woman, so I know this harassment is rampant, and I've heard many stories over the years, as well as experienced sexism in the workplace a few times.  Like battering, or date rape, the culture sympathizes with the perpetrator not the victim.  We learn early to not make a fuss, and that if we do, we will be blamed for the way we talk, dress, behave.  I'm not sure in our own supposedly advanced culture, we aren't awfully close to believing women flaunt their sexuality just by having breasts and lips and vaginas.  We are the biblical seducers, and men are helpless in our clutches.  I'm not buying it. 

Sexual harassment is about power, not sex.  Just as rape and battering are.  Are we a society that prizes gender equality?  We pay lip service to it, but we don't see much hard evidence.  And those in power desire to stay in power.  They often don't think about it consciously, they just behave as if their impulses and desires are all that matter.

So good for this brave woman for speaking up about an elephant in the room, and I mean every room in the country.  Women want to work in a professional manner, and not have pressures added on top of the work load.  We are tired of being worn down by "jokes" and comments about our dress or physical attributes.  We want men to grow up and act like adults instead of out of control little boys.  I hope every woman speaks up when this happens and then other women will know it's not them, it's the system, and there are millions of us to rally with them.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm trying to organize a birthday trip for my husband, and it involves four kids, spouses, grandkids and conflicting schedules and priorities.  It requires a lot of right speech and patience.  The last time I attempted a family trip, it ended badly, and that makes me leery.  I'm going to keep as relaxed as possible, and also not be swallowed up with logistics.  It's only been a year and a half since our younger daughter's wedding, so I know I can handle this, but in that case it was about agreeing with the couple, not all the family.  Our kids have busy lives and children and they plan their trips so far ahead I may already be in conflict with plans.

Why try?  It matters that families come together for big events, and it will matter to my husband that his birthday be marked and highlighted.  It's a big transition, and he doesn't have friends who will do anything for him.  It's up to us.  But I hope to remember to do the planning cheerfully, with grace, and not with unrealistic expectations.  I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today is my brother's birthday.  He would have been 68 today.  I'm alone in the world even remembering this.  That's okay.  A year and a half after his death, my thoughts are more trusting that he lived a life he chose, to the best of his ability, and what his life looks like on the outside to me is not necessarily what it felt like to him.  We were very different as kids and then as adults.  We had a strong emotional bond, and loved each other, but we didn't understand each other, and often judged the other.  In broad strokes:  I chose marriage and family and college, and he chose being single, no kids, no attachments, and no college.  How much of his path was the result of addiction or mental illness, I'll never know.  But clearly he needed to be a lone wolf, and I'm the wolf pack gal.  Everything for me is about interconnectiveness, and he felt we are each alone in a difficult world.  I may be too trusting; he was paranoid.

But right now I feel gratitude for having him as my brother, and for all the experiences and laughter we shared, as well as my certain knowledge that he, like my parents, loved me deeply.  I had a sibling.  We had adventures and fights and fun times.  We mattered to each other.  I respected his choice not to see or speak to me the last thirteen years of his life.  I took care of all the details big and small when he died.  I did everything with dignity and respectfully.  I no longer question anything about him.  He was connected directly to my heart.  He still is.