Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I love the way my grandsons are still willing and thrilled with pink nail polish and rainbow shirts.  They don't see gender in most cases, though they both love trains and trucks over dolls.  They love to play with girls, and the girls are rough and tumble, as my granddaughter was at this age.  How it will all change is fairly predictable, though not certain.  But right now, they are free of all that stereotyping.  I can vaguely remember wanting to be Roy Rogers.  My parents bought me a cowgirl hat, vest and six guns.  But Dale Evans was not my hero, it was Roy, Trigger and Bullet.  My mother was sending me to dance school, so I had fancy, sparkly outfits she made for me and I still have my ballet and tap shoes.  Later, I had an affinity for Calamity Jane and Annie Oakley.  I still have the musicals and watch them once in a while.  But the lesson in those days was to pretty yourself up and be a bride at the end.  Submit to the male.  I'm not saying I regret switching gears, as being a cowboy was contraindicated considering I'm part Native American.  Who wants to be on the losing side?  But sometimes it feels like being female is being on the losing side, too. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I listened to a lovely dharma talk by my teacher yesterday about watching the ego.  He told a story of a student who wanted to study with a Sufi master but lost the will to continue and left for many years.  He realized he still desired to know the most important teaching of the master, and returned, expressing his regret.  The master reassured him:  You didn't miss anything.  The sum of all my teachings can be written on a fingernail:  Drop the ego. 
My teacher also related how obsessed he'd been when the film "Lord of the Rings" came out, and then he was waiting for the second film, and then the final one.  He was able to laugh at this craving later.  But he realized the Golem was his favorite character because he represents the struggle of ego.  Golem is switching sides from ego to right behavior back and forth.  It's funny, but he is all of us.  Trying to do the right thing, but hampered by greed, vengance, hatred, jealousy and all the rest of the concoctions the ego swims in. 
When we can watch ourselves as we lean toward ego, then we can see the humor in our antics and be of a forgiving, non-judgemental mind.  But the watching is forever, because the ego is strong and tricky.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My brother could have been a double for Elton John, and perhaps that had something to do with my love of the musician and his music.  My brother also had the world at his feet as a young person until alcohol and drugs tore him down.  Both of them went into recovery programs at the same time and stayed sober the rest of their lives.  But my brother never found the love he was searching for, and thank goodness Elton John did.  The new movie "Rocketman" is sensational.  Not a bioflick, but an evocation of the dazzling, amazing, craziness of Elton John and his power and talent.  Taron Edgerton is not a look alike, and he sings differently than Elton John, but with the same passion and electricity.  The film is thrilling, exhilarating and deeply moving.  I cried.  A lot.  Focusing on his early years is brilliant.  Each character is well acted, especially Jamie Bell as Bernie Taupin.  Maybe I was crying for my brother, but I think it was all my brothers out there, with gifts untold and a light meant to shine. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday our social butterfly grandson (actually the younger one) attached himself to a three year old girl and they played and played.  This was at the zoo, but they ignored the animals and ran and slid and fell on a grassy area over and over and over.  Eventually, her mother dragged her away, and we tempted our grandson with looking at the crocodiles (really they are alligators) and he was interested in the lemurs with their long striped tails and the huge tortoises, who were very active yesterday (that means their heads came out and one or two moved like snails).  After we returned home we watched Cinderella together and read ten books, heavy on Curious George.  Then he went on the front porch while my husband was talking to our gardener, and he hopped and chattered away to her like a magpie.  To fully impress her he spit on the cement, and she told him not to do that, but I believe it was a homage to her, albeit a toddler version of dazzling skill.  She, too, left after a while, and he was stuck with his grandparents until his mother turned up to reel him in and take him home. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had our last writing group last night.  We take summers off, as we're all busy traveling or having guests visit.  But this time I feel we won't resume in the fall.  Two of the participants seldom show up and are not really writing and are in other groups.  The rest often don't write except for myself and one other.  It's just not working anymore.  I will have to be the one to say this, as I began the group many years ago.  But it's right speech to say aloud what I am observing, and let go when it's time.  We are all friends, so we will see each other anyway.  We live within walking distance of each other.  So it's not goodbye, it's let's move on.  I believe what might work better is 3 or 4 times a year to get together and check in.  But forget sharing writing.  That's what I will suggest.  But I always write, so my loss is biggest, from the point of view of the craft.  The other person who is working on something might meet occasionally with me, and that could work better.  What nags me is the feeling I'm the bad guy for suggesting we shut down.  And maybe I am.  If they insist on continuing, well, consensus rules.  I'm afraid they won't want to hurt my feelings by agreeing.  It's complicated.  But I guess most things are.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I and two friends went on a tour of the Mormon Temple near us.  It's been renovated and until it is consecrated non-Mormons may see it.  It sits like a citadel or castle on a hill, with an amazing view.  Everyone was kind and welcoming, and the building like a warren of rooms, with different purposes for each.  The paintings are mostly of Jesus in various scenes from the Bible, with a few others of fathers and sons or mothers and children.  Everything is spotless and hushed.  There are no windows.  You have to go outside to see the view.  Our tour caused a lively discussion after, as we ate lunch.  We only had impressions, but from what was said we could all four see the appeal.  The emphasis is on the family and blood relatives, and the description of heaven as being where all the ancestors unite with you and yours a lovely image.  These people believe with all their hearts, and I surely wouldn't want to argue with them or take away their happiness.  I just don't believe in organized religion, and haven't since I turned 17.  Nothing dramatic happened, I just felt the structure was oppressive and bound me to something that made my life narrower and restricted.  I just no longer believed in someone or something OUT THERE to turn to.  Which is why the practice of Buddhism suits me better.  I work on myself, not others.  Changing or fixing anyone else is not my business.  When I act, it is to enact the precepts and keep my vows.  If there is response, fine, but that is not my goal.  So I am not missionary material.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We spent a couple of hours yesterday with the new grandson and his parents.  He still snoozes a lot, and likes to be bounced on a giant bouncy ball.  I was afraid I'd be tipsy with him but I mastered the bouncing easily.  The muscles in my one arm got tired after a while though, as he's a little butterball.  Observing my son and daughter-in-law's confidence with him is so touching.  I know it's going to be a wrench when my son goes back to work in a couple of weeks.  He's lucky he lives in a state that gives him six weeks leave, but many other countries give so much more.  Why it is not a top priority to support new parents is a mystery, along with many others that contradict "family values".  Will it ever change?  We seem to devalue everything to do with children:  teachers, schools, child care, nutrition, maternity leave, taxes, housing.  We hope that relatives will step in and help, but many are unable to do so.  Either they live too far away, have health issues or are caring for their elderly parents.  And most are not retired, and to survive will never be able to give up working.  We live in a Disneyland of fantasy, imagining ourselves in a 1950's sitcom that was utterly false at the time.  I'd hoped for better from my country.