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.