Crisp Winter Moon, Skeletal Branches...

Oh! Young folk -
If you fear death,
Die now!
Having died once,
You won't die again.

Unpleasant Surprises & Continuity

The Backstory:

When I was in the military (I served first in the U.S. Air Force, and then in the U.S. Army -- This was in my Air Force days) I had a roommate named Barry.

The first time I knew that Barry existed was when I returned to my room (in which I had been the sole inhabitant) to find many of my belongings relocated to make way for the new occupant - who was not present at the moment.

Needless to say, I was none too happy at this new development.. preferring to have the room to myself.. and, therefore, none to eager to make whoever the intruder was feel all that welcome. This was exacerbated by what appeared to me to be an inordinate amount of vitamin and pill bottles which essentially took up the entire bottom shelf of my new roommates wall locker.

Irked, I rearranged my belongings on or in the pieces of furniture that were still mine to use, and went out.

When I next returned to my barracks room, my roommate was there. Truthfully, I was less than impressed. I thought he looked sort of dorky to be honest (looking back at photos of myself at the time, I have to say that I am *appalled* to think that I ever had the unmitigated gall to call anyone else dorky.. yikes!!).

I was thinking something along the lines of ("Just *fucking* great!! This is just my friggin' luck!"). The new guy introduced himself to me as "Barry", and I welcomed him.. by which I meant "I wish you would relocate to Antarctica - AND STAY THERE!!" and we went about the business of getting to know one another, setting out our boundaries, and testing those of the other occupant.

At one point, Barry pointed at my 'Do-Bohk' (Korean for the uniform you wear when practicing martial arts - literally 'Way-Attire') and asked me what I was studying. I told him that was practicing Do Hap Sool, and he asked me what it was. I explained, and he indicated that he would like to come with me next time.. and that he was interested in learning. I discouraged this idea enthusiastically... I didn't think that he could hack it, honestly... the training was tough, painful, and exhausting.

He asked why I was shying away from the idea, and, at a loss for a coherent and socially acceptable response, I asked him if he was sick or something.. weakly gesturing at all of the pill bottles. He explained that he was a runner, and that he needed the supplementation to stay healthy. This struck me as somewhat pretentious, and, scoffing, I asked him how far he ran... (How far would someone run?? 2 or 3 miles per day?? 10?? Why would you need all of this crap?!)

"Between 20 and 30, twice a week... and between 5 to 15 on the other days." he answered in what I came to learn was a very characteristic manner for him; softly, humbly, and very matter-of-factly.

?! ... .... ..... "Um... .. WHAT?!?"

He repeated it slowly, apparently deciding that I was addled in some fundamental way, and incapable of understanding human speech unless it was spoken very slowly and very, very clearly...

(30 MILES?!) (!!!)

"GET the fuck outta here!!", I blurted. Basically, I was telling him that I thought he was full of shit, without saying that I thought he was full of shit.

He stared at me, expressionless, for a few moments (I also came to know this quirk of his personality... I wish I had known what it portended at the time...), and he shrugged and said, "I'll make a deal with you; You take me to Do Hap Sool, and I will take you running with me."

I *HATED* running. DESPISED it. But.. the gauntlet had been thrown, and I saw no good reason for letting all of that testosterone go to waste.... so I agreed.

Off we went to the Do Hap Sool Dojang, where Barry plunked down his dues, purchased a uniform, and began his training (He subsequently earned his black belt, by the way.)

Here is proof! That's Barry - The Black Belt - seated front row on the right (the viewer's right)I am involved in the photo - but you can't see me since I was on the other side of the camera!

That same night, Barry explained that he was going for a 'short' run, and asked me if I would like to go along. I agreed, but admitted that running wasn't my thing.. and that I actually hated it, truth be told.

"That's because you don't know how to run." he explained.

Scowling, I replied, "Don't know how to run? What are you talking about?! Of course I know how to run! I run all the time!"

We put on our running clothes, tied on our running shoes, and out we went into the Korean night...

Barry explained that distance running was very different from running like one does when playing tag. He taught me how to carry my body, and how to roll my feet when I ran. He taught me the proper way to breathe... and most importantly, how to relax and to run effortlessly.

That first night, we ran... and we ran.... and we ran. Until...

"HALT!! SECURITY POLICE!! PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!! YOU ARE IN AN UNAUTHORIZED AREA!! I AM AN ARMED SECURITY POLICEMAN WITH A RIFLE A DOG... IF YOU MOVE OR FAIL TO FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS YOU WILL BE SHOT!!

We stopped... and put our hands in the air. A huge dog streaked towards us out of the darkness and showed us what big teeth it had. We were ordered to lay on the ground, face down, with our arms and legs outstretched. This was great sport, since we got to lay down in a bunch of sand, grit, and gravel.. and we were covered with sweat and all sticky.

We heard some radio squelch, and an unintelligible conversation taking place. At one point I started to wipe away a bead of sweat that threatened to run into my eye, but he dog patiently explained to me that it was an ill-advised idea which could, quite possibly, result in the loss of a limb, or fatal hemorrhaging.

We heard the sound of a tracked military vehicle approaching, and the beat of many feet on the ground as a squad of armed special response troops rapidly exited the vehicle from the rear ramp and took up positions from which they could most efficiently riddle us with bullets if the need should arise.

We were 'covered' and routinely searched... this was a brief affair, since we were wearing running shorts, running shoes... and nothing else.

Once it was ascertained that we weren't carrying any deadly weapons or devices, a grand poobah of the Security Police approached us and asked us why we weren't carrying military ID, what we were doing in the area (just to be clear... this area was one that we travelled freely during daylight hours.. we had no idea that it was off limits during hours of darkness...), what unit we were from, whether we wipe back to front or front to back, how many fillings we had in our teeth, and what our great grandmother's favorite color was..... after perhaps an hour, we were cut loose to continue our run in relative peace, and admonished to stay away from certain areas.

So... off we went.

We ran 15 miles that night. I had never, in all of my life, ran more than 2 miles in a single clip.

I felt that I had accomplished something amazing!! I had broken a physical barrier!

The next morning, Barry kicked my bed and told me to get up and go to breakfast with him.

I couldn't. I couldn't move. I couldn't even make it to the bathroom! Every single solitary inch of my being was shrieking in pain. My hair hurt. My bones hurt. I could actually feel every tendon and ligament in my body... and they weren't one bit happy about it. I thought I was going to die. I became terrified that I might NOT die with any immediacy... and that I would be forced to lay there.. in pain... perhaps for minutes... or even, Heaven forbid, up to an hour. I was miserable.

Barry showed his sympathy for me by laughing at me, and by going and finding everyone that he could rope in to come and gawk at me as I lay there on my deathbed.

He told me that the only way to make the pain stop would be to actually get up and force myself to move around... take a good hot shower... and get some food into me.

I told him that I was dying... and that I wanted to be left in peace.

Finally, he pulled me off of the bed onto the floor, ran the shower, and said... "Crawl if you have to... but get into that shower... and lets go get some chow! JUST DO SOMETHING... even if its WRONG!!"

(this became a watchword and motto which continues even to this very day! When I first met my wife, she drove a gray Chevy Nova with a bumber sticker that said "Just Do it!" -- I got a kick out of it, and explained that MY motto was "Just Do something!! Even if its wrong!" -- she most likely thought I was a dick... but, we became friends... and eventually married.. so there!!)

Barry taught me to break through my own limitations that day... limitations concerning my perceptions of others... my own physical limitations... including pain barriers. If not for that lesson, I never would have continued on to serve in the other units that I served in, which required a great deal from each member physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Barry and I became very close friends. We followed one another from Korea to the states, and back to Korea. He was there when my son was born... and I was there when his was.

We laughed, cried, sweat and bled together.

Eventually, I left the military and returned to the United States. Barry remained in Korea. Life moved in, as it does... and we lost touch with one another.

Which brings us to THE CURRENT STORY:

Last week I decided to try to find him... and I began to search for him on the internet. I found a person with the same name, listed as a Major in the USAF as being buried in an expatriate cemetery on the western outskirts of Seoul, Korea. But, Barry was enlisted when I last knew him... so this didn't really add up. I hadn't remembered him telling me anything about a father or grandfather that had served as an officer in the Air Force. Hmmmm.....

The last I had heard about him, he was a part owner of a nightclub in Seoul, and they had a billiards team. I looked up the team website, and clicked on Barry's link to have a look at his scores; they ended in September of 2004. The first trickles of dread began to creep in at the back of my brain... and cold fingers began to grip my guts.

I thought (and hoped) that perhaps the team had gone defunct. I clicked on some of the other members... and then all of the other members... and their scores were current up to the very day.

I stopped. I couldn't get my brain wrapped around this at all... so, relying on my training, I changed tacks and decided to attack the problem from a different angle. I decided to look up military alumni groups. I started with a DLI (Defense Language Institute -- Barry was a Korean Liguist) group; where I found this post -

Sad times for friends of the (Nightclub - name deleted)

Itaewon endured one of its saddest days in recent memory on Sept. 23, when the news went out that Barry ( DELETED ), who ran the ( Nightclub name deleted ), had died that morning in a motorcycle accident in Thailand.

Barry had been on vacation with friends, so it was they who conveyed the bad news to folks in Seoul. From there, word got out to Barry's many friends here via anguished phone calls and text messages.

That night an impromptu memorial service was held at the ( Nightclub name deleted ). Loved ones set up a small, touching shrine in one of the booths, with a big photo of Barry smiling happily, and an album for people to write their farewells. People who'd heard the news ¡ª and there were many ¡ª came by to share their sorrow with hugs and tears.

Barry's funeral was held last Saturday, at the Memorial Chapel of the Seoul Union Church in western Seoul. The church is adjacent to the Foreigners Cemetery, where his remains were eventually laid to rest.

The night before, his many friends had again filled up the ( Nightclub name deleted ) for a wake. From about midnight, 10 or 15 people gave short tributes, led by Sonny ( Last name deleted ), Barry's best friend and Air Force buddy.

Mr. ( Last name deleted ) first met Barry in 1979, when both were stationed at the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California. He said Barry proved right away to be an exceptional linguist and interpreter; both were assigned to the Air Force base at Osan in 1980, and they became close friends over the next three or four years.

But most people who knew Barry didn't think of him as a scholar or a cadet. They think of, and thank him for, the great bar he started, the ( Nighclub name deleted ), right after he retired from the Air Force in 1994.

The original bar, located where its successor the ( Nightclub name deleted ) is now, had loads of character; it was jam-packed on Fridays, Saturdays and even some weeknights. On Sunday afternoons, Barry would show movies on his big-screen TV, a special treat in those days. Hungover locals would try to get there early and stake out the best booths.

The ( Nightclub name deleted ) really took off the next year, when Barry expanded it to the second floor, where the restaurant ( Name deleted ) is now. From the get-go, the new section, more like a nightclub, was phenomenally popular. Some nights you couldn't get in unless you knew Barry, or Marcel the doorman.

Back in the here and now, the good news is that the ( Nightclub name deleted ) will remain open. Barry's 21-year-old son Shawn, who'd been helping out over the last year, will take over, and a co-manager, Eugene ( Name deleted ), will remain on board.

Mr. ( Name deleted ) reassured me that he and Shawn "won't change a thing." So yes, the ( Nightclub name deleted ) will still be there. It will still serve up the best steaks in town, and it will still be the friendliest place to down a few. But it'll never be the same.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing!! My friend was gone! ... He had been dead for over three years and I had no idea!!

The sounds of my crying woke my wife... who did her best to console me... I was very upset... I couldn't believe that this had happened. Even though it was 'old news' - to me it had just happened at that very moment... and I was very, very sad.

It was the last thing that I would have expected to find.

My Zen practice doesn't really help me to avoid losing my center when hit with something like this... what it does do is to help me to recover it relatively quickly... which I did. I am still sad to think of a world without Barry in it, but, in a way he is not gone.. just changed. I still miss the relationship, though.. and that is gone. This is one the more difficult things that we must all learn to cope with eventually, I guess...

There was nothing that I could do for Barry. What I did do was to contact his son. I have a wealth of stories to share with Shawn regarding his father... and a stack of photos that I can send to him. Photos from before he was born, photos of when he was a baby... photos of friends and family that may no longer be alive.

I told Shawn that his father was a friend of mine, which made him a friend of mine. I reminded him that I stood by his father's side on the day that he was born, and that he (Shawn) used to play with my son when they were children.

I received a message from Shawn this morning.. in which he signed off with "Friends for life!"

Yes... Friends for life...and beyond.

The Phoenix (Bul Jo Sa) was very important to the Koreans. So much so that the Phoenix was depicted on the royal seal. Here is an image of a phoenix, painted, I believe, by a Korean artist;


And another by a Korean artisan of long ago;


The Phoenix is still to be found flying in the skies of Korea. I don't ask you to believe me... you don't have to take my word for it. See for yourself!









A fitting symbol I think.... for a new friendship has been reborn from the ashes of an old one...

Barry lives on in my heart, it is true... but his blood still runs through the veins of my new friend.

I am happy.

Look to this day...

Look to this day,
for it is life.
The very life of life.
In its brief course lie all
the realities & verities of existence;
the bliss of growth,
the splendor of action,
the glory of power -
for yesterday is but a dream,
and tomorrow is only a vision.
But today, well loved
makes every yesterday a dream of happiness..
.. and tomorrow a vision of hope.

Toru Kawamura

When I was a boy, in first and second grade, I had a friend who was from Japan, and who lived in the same apartment building as we did, and who also went to my school. He was a year ahead of me in school.

The first time I ever saw him, I was walking to school, and four or five of the older boys were beating him up. He held his own, but it wasn't a fair fight.

I was tiny as a kid, usually the smallest kid in any group, but my sense of outrage at this unfairness overcame my self-preservation instinct and I tried to intervene. I have to say at this point that I wasn't able to help poor Toru at all. One of the larger kids simply gave me a cuff in the head, grabbed me in a strangle hold, and lifted me off my feet until I stopped struggling, and then put my feet back on the ground and told me to be still or he would choke me to death.

So I had to stand there and watch this kid take a beating for no good reason.

The kids were calling him racial names and telling him to 'go back to Japan'.

I didn't understand why they were saying these things... the incident made me feel sick in my soul.

Afterwards, I picked up Toru's umbrella and put his torn and muddy books back into his book bag and went over to him. I asked him if he was okay... he was crying, and bruised, and bleeding. He took his umbrella and book bag, asked me to leave him alone, and headed back home.

I stood there, watching him limping slowly back towards the building where we lived.. muddy, wet, and hurt... I remember looking at the ground and seeing a crocus that had been flattened during the struggle.. it struck something in me; I felt terrible, and I started to cry... my throat felt as though I had swallowed an iron ball... my eyes were burning.. my lips trembling... and my knees shaking with feelings of anger, frustration, powerlessness, and and overwhelming sense of loss... at what, I don't know to this day.

Eventually, I headed into school for one of the most miserable days I had ever experienced in my life up to that day... not because of anything that was happening externally, but because of all of the thoughts and feelings that were raging inside of me. I had no idea what I was feeling, and no idea how to sort them out...

After school, I went home and got some cookies, wrapped them in a paper towel, and after scanning the doorbells for the name 'Kawamura' (I had seen it on his books, and on his book bag) I went and knocked on his door. I suppose I wanted to try to make him feel better... to tell him that *I* didn't want him to go back to Japan.. unless *he* wanted to... and probably to make myself feel better about the whole thing in some way... I stood there for what seemed like forever, but nobody answered the door.

Some days later, I knocked on the door again and it was answered by an attractive Japanese woman who, with extreme politeness, explained that Toru was in 'Manhattan' with his father. I had no earthly idea where 'Manhattan' was, and when I later asked my grandparents, they explained that although we called Manhattan 'New York City' or simply 'The City' - that all five boroughs were actually 'The City' and that 'Manhattan' was actually the correct term. I was very impressed by this degree of accuracy and specificity. I felt that I should have known this. I started to think that the thugs who had beaten this kid up were really off base... these folks even knew the proper names for things when I didn't!!

I finally knocked on the door when Toru was actually home. He came to the door and stared at me impassively for a long moment, and then, deciding that I posed no threat to him, I suppose, grabbed his jacket and came out to play. He told me about Japan, showed me how people wrote in Japan (I was absolutely captivated by this!), explained to me that the boys who had beaten him up were most likely angry because they had heard the stories that their parents and uncles and grandparents had told about the war with Japan (In retrospect, I am absolutely floored at the self-possession and insight of this little 6 or 7 year old boy.. he was an amazing kid!).

When I asked about the war, he explained that it had much to do with Japan needing steel and other natural resources because they had very little land and very little ability to derive natural resources from their homeland.

I sat there, open-mouthed, while he patiently explained all of this to me. I asked him how he learned all of this stuff.. and he told me that on Saturdays, he went to 'Japanese School'. I was flabbergasted at this!! School on SATURDAY!! It simply wasn't done!! What about cartoons?! What about playing outside!!

He said that one day his parents would have to return to Japan (his father had been posted in New York by his Company), and that he, Toru, would have to return with them... and if he didn't work hard in Japanese School, he would be behind all of the other children when he went back to school.

This was the first kid I had ever known who considered school to be important, and not just a nuisance that had to be dealt with. It was Toru who sparked the first interest in learning within me.

I continued to be impressed by Toru during the entire period of our friendship. Whatever anybody could do, Toru could do it better!! I made houses and things out of Lego blocks... Toru had built a huge commercial airliner that was amazing! I made a kite out of newspaper and sticks... Toru made a hand painted Dragon kite that had to be 15 or 20 feet long!!

Perhaps the most amazing thing was that he never 'one-upped' me.. when I showed him my kite, he 'oooohed' and 'aaaahed' over it, expressed his delight with a ready smile, and helped me to fly it. It was only weeks later when I spied the kite hanging in his bedroom and asked about it that I learned that he had made it by hand. When I blurted out that I felt like an idiot for being so proud of my stupid kite, he wrinkled his brow, put a small brown hand on my arm and said that I had no reason at all to feel that way... that my kite was beautiful.. and that my kite flew better than his did, anyway... I bought it at the time, but now realize that most likely wasn't true. Toru was protecting my feelings.

Just before Toru returned to Japan, the same kids who had beaten him up blocked our way as we were walking to school together. This time, they focused on me, and announced their intention to beat the crap out of me for being a 'traitor' by befriending Toru.

As one of them moved towards me, Toru stepped in front of me and quietly explained that they were being very impolite. He told them that he couldn't let them hurt me. He explained that I was his friend. And that I was very small.

The bully was laughing as he grabbed Toru by the lapels to toss him out of the way.

He stopped laughing when Toru tossed him onto his back on the sidewalk.

The other boys all rushed Toru - and were systematically thrown to the ground, punched, or kicked.

When they had had enough and ran away, I looked at Toru incredulously and demanded to know why on earth, if he was capable of fighting like that, had he let them beat him up so badly the last time?!?!?

He looked at me with that maddeningly calm way of his and answered, simply;
"I didn't want to hurt them."

I had never known anybody like this kid in my life...


I don't remember how long my friendship with Toru lasted, but it couldn't have been very long at all. What I do remember is that he was one of the most influential people in my life. He set an example that I have yet to emulate. He was a smart, kind, and insightful person.. at the age of 7 or possibly 8. He was patient, tranquil, focused, and had absolutely no ego whatsoever.

I often wonder what became of Toru, and how he is faring...

In any case, Toru, wherever you are, I hope that you are well, and that you are truly happy, and that you have managed to follow your dreams.. whatever they may be.

Domo Arigato Gozaimasu (ありがとう！あなたはとてもしんせつです。((ごめんなさい。私の日本語はへたです。)) )

Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd:

Occasionally, I get puked upon by a friend or relative who has gotten their feelings stung by my failure to read, view and provide suitable feedback for a forwarded email message that they have sent to me. It usually goes like this;

"What'd ya think of that thing I sent ya?? Cute, wasn't it?!"

"I deleted it... sorry.."

"... ... You.. DELETED it!?"

"Yeah.. I don't really read 'forwards'... I just delete them."

At which point it is made clear to me either verbally, nonverbally, or by subsequent interaction with that person (or, more to the point, non-interaction with that person) that they don't agree with, support, or tolerate my position.

I must confess, however, that it is true. I don't read forwards. There are a few reasons for this, and some may even be valid. They happen to be valid reasons to me, though... and I don't read forwards.

Basically, if you forward something to me other than a link, a message from another person known to me, or something that pertains specifically to me personally, and this is made abundantly clear by the subject line or by the sender(meaning that it comes from a sender who generally doesn't send forwards as a general rule), I glance at the subject... and delete it.

The simplest reason is that I don't care what it is in a forwarded message. I'm not interested. I don't like them. They take up valuable bandwidth.

Usually, they are some stupid joke or chain letter that has been circulating around for 15 years. It wasn't cute or funny when it came around the first time... it isn't funny today.

Bill Gates is NOT going to send me any money.
My forwarding a chain letter isn't going to save the little girl that has been dying of the same ailment since 1989.

My feeling is that if someone wants to communicate with me, they can type out an email message addressed to ME, intended for ME, and not to 900 strangers, with me stuck on for good measure.

In an effort to make this easier, I am providing a sample message that can easily be cut and pasted into your email client if you wish to say 'hi'.

Select all text between the lines
-------------------------------

Hi Bear,

Just wanted to say hi. hi.

Well. Guess that's all for now.

Bye.

Regards, [BLANK] (insert name)


-------------------------------
Type name in the space labeled 'BLANK'

There.

Now nobody has a good reason to send me forwards.

I am not going to open them in any case. They get summarily deleted.

If you have a video, images, poems, heart-wrenching sob stories, or evangelical tracts that you wish me to read, write me a message, and paste a link to a page where I can view the material if and when I choose.

I am sure that I will still get crapped on for not opening forwards, and if anyone has heartburn with that, please write it all down, and forward it to me in an email.

A Blank Canvas

Last night I worked a New Year's Eve party. There were perhaps 265 people attending the party. At some point, the DJ asked the assembled guests to 'make some noise' if they had a good 2007; You could've heard a pin drop. The room was completely, utterly and (at least to me...) significantly silent. After a few moments of unnatural quiet, he then asked whether anyone hoped to have a better year in 2008 than they did in 2007 and the noise from the jubilant crowd nearly brought the roof down!

Apparently, nobody found this past year to be all that much to scream about. It seems sort of weird that everybody had a hard time of it, though... you would think that some folks would've had a good year, and some folks would've had difficulties... but, judging from this response, plus the snippets of conversation that I have overheard all year; 2007 has kicked the living shit out of just about everyone.

2007 was a fairly difficult year for us, for our extended group of family and friends, and for just about everyone that we know. We are considerably fewer in number than we were a year ago.. those who are no longer with us have left a noticeable hole in the fabric of our lives that will take some time to mend. They have left us with happy memories, and a great sadness at their loss. While it is true that birth and death are always with us, and while I am comfortable with the idea that death is a natural part of life.. I still mourn the loss of the relationship with each of them. I can still love them, and I do. I can carry them in my heart and bring them forth whenever I like; But they can't answer me... they can't offer their physical presence... I can't hear their voices, or see their smiles any more. I miss them.

Financially, we got spanked throughout the entire year, to the point that we would go to sleep and wake up with fears of homelessness chilling our blood.

In hearing what other folks have had to contend with, however, it seems that we have been lucky. This past year has simply been a time of difficulty for everyone.

That isn't to say that there were no good times.. we had our laughs and our triumphs, but the overall picture has been one of austerity and tribulation.

I sit here this morning looking out of my window at a dreary, gloomy, grey day; one of those Long Island days where it never seems to get past 6AM judging by the quality of the light. Nevertheless, I am holding on fast to hopes for a kinder, gentler, happier and more joyful and prosperous year.

Like most folks, I tend to stop and take stock of life on New Year's Day... looking back at how things were, and comparing what I remember to how things are today. Some things never seem to change much, while in other instances the change is startling (and some times appalling!)

I would like to be able to say that I will be doing things differently this year, but, to be honest, I can't really think of all that much that we can do!! We sat down a few weeks ago to work out a household budget; the idea being that we would be able to identify some areas where we could cut back a bit in order to make it somewhat easier to get the bills paid. What we discovered was that we are so thrifty already that there simply wasn't anyplace left that we could cut back!! I was discussing this topic with my mom on the telephone a week or so ago, and mentioned that it suddenly became difficult to make ends meet, and she posited that the rising prices of food and oil have steadily crept up on us and have eaten away all of the 'extra' money that most of us had... and has begun to chip away at the funds that we need to survive. Working extra sounds like a good plan, except that most of the businesses that would usually provide this extra income are either drastically cutting back, and therefore are not hiring, or simply don't have a schedule that is possible for folks that already work a full-time job plus a part-time job. So what do you do there??

I religiously search for a better paying job, for something part-time that is close enough so that I can actually manage to get to it in a timely fashion, or for some opportunity 'outside of the box' that may offer a bit of relief... but, so far I haven't had any luck at all.

At one point, we decided to start selling our belongings... only to find out that a). We aren't the only folks in the world, apparently, who are in the same position.. and they are selling the same type of crap as well... and b). Nobody seems to have the money to buy the stuff we are selling.

The only thing left to do is to keep 'driving on' and keep my eyes and ears open for a better opportunity.

I suppose that in the meantime, the best thing that I can do is to simply do the best that I can at using less... less food, less electricity, less gas, less everything.

There was a time when I could sell my artwork or craft-work to make whatever extra money that I needed when I was in a pinch - doing portraits, designing T-shirts, Tattoo Flash, embroidered emblems, and what have you... but, when everybody is being weighed down by the same burden, this is the sort of thing that gets pushed to the back burner; people just can't afford to spend money on 'extras'.

This past year has served to remind me, once again, that nothing is written in stone, and that any one of my friends or family can be ripped away from me without warning. This sobering thought simply solidifies my desire to live each day and each breath as though it were the last... and to treasure each and every moment that I have with those who share my life.

Although I don't have much in the way of material wealth, I am rich beyond measure... I have family and friends who love me, support me, and whose enduring presence bring me joy and happiness. I have a beautiful wife who loves me with all of her heart, and who I can count on to stand by my side in the face of anything that comes our way.. I am warm, fed, loved, and happy. I have more than most folks have, and considerably more than some poor souls will ever have in their lifetime.

I don't know what this year will have in store for me. Part of me looks forward in anticipation, while part of me shrinks back from what might be heading for me...

As for my hopes for 2008, I would like to;

• Strengthen my body.
• Deepen my spiritual practice.
• Improve my financial circumstances.
• Get my house in order - i.e. actually do many of the things that have been put off such as clean out the attic, and finish all of the unfinished projects that are laying around and collecting dust!
• Pick up my chanter and my bagpipes once again, and practice! It has been so long since I have played them.. its kind of sad, actually.
• Devote some time to artistic ventures - it has been so long since I have simply drawn, painted, or sculpted anything...
• Spend more time wandering in the woods, along the beaches, and out under the sky!
• Take photographs simply for the love of it!
• Write - stories, poetry, what have you..

While I do enjoy the work at my job, it is becoming increasingly clearer to me that I cannot, most likely, manage to live on what I earn there. Not that I am being inundated with offers, but I am probably going to have to find some line of work that enable me to earn significantly more than I am earning now... or we are going to be in worse shape by the end of this year than we are today; I don't foresee the cost of living suddenly dropping.

It has been nearly a year since Myo-Shin (a nun in my monastic community) has passed away (it will be a year this coming February). Her husband is the Osho of our local Zen Center;

(Dictionary Tangent Begins Here)

Osho

(Japanese Zen term)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Look up 和尚 in
Wiktionary, the free dictionary.

Oshō is the Japanese reading of the Chinese he shang (和尚), meaning a high-ranking Buddhist monk or highly virtuous Buddhist monk. It is also a respectful designation for Buddhist monks in general and may be used with the suffix -san. It is originally derived from the Sanskrit upadhyaya, meaning "master" in the sense of "teacher".

The two characters making up the word are actually pronounced oshō only in the Zen and Pure Land sects. For example, they are read kashō in the Tendai sect and wajō in the Shingon sect.

(Herendeth the Dictionary Tangent)

ANYway... it was in December of last year that he was ordained as an Osho, and it was upon his return from California (the headquarters of our Order in the U.S.) where he had gone to attend the Osho ordination ceremony that he learned that his wife was very ill. They had both gone to Los Angeles a week or so prior to the scheduled Ordination ceremony to attend a Monastic training retreat. When they returned to New York, Myo-Shin had what we all believed to be a cold or a flu. She was supposed to have accompanied him to attend the Ordination ceremony but elected not to go because she didn't feel up to it. What we did not know at the time was that she had less than two months left to live...

For a Zen Monk, Ordination as an Osho comes with two very difficult and important responsibilities; The first is to found a Temple. The second is to produce an 'heir' or protegé to whom the Osho can pass on his Zen Lineage (we trace our lineage of Teacher to student transmission all the way back to the historical Buddha - Shakyamuni Buddha; Siddhartha Gotama. ((My teacher is the 82nd in line counting from the Buddha through each of his successive disciples in this particular lineage, down to the present day.)) )

Due to the sudden and unexpected death of his wife, to whom he was married for 54 years, these responsibilities were set aside for the period of a year in order for him to mourn her passing, and so that he would be able to regain his center and re-establish some balance in his life. It was not deemed appropriate for him to make any major decisions or undertake any new ventures during this time period, so he spent the year traveling with his teacher and strengthening his practice and his understanding of Zen.

It is likely that once this period of mourning has passed, he will likely turn his attention towards establishing a temple here on Long Island. (Our Zendo is a room in his house, which he owns. A temple cannot be privately owned, but must be owned by the Rinzai Order). I am not sure what he will decide to do.. (i.e., leave things as they are, sell the house to the Rinzai Order, raise funds to purchase a property for the purpose of establishing a temple, or some other avenue...) but, whatever he decides to do, the bulk of the actual work will be done by his monks. If this comes to pass, we will definitely have our hands full!

He is nearly 70 years old, so I don't know whether this is something that he will be willing to tackle at this point. I suppose I will have to just wait and see.

In any case, I look forward to opportunities to alleviate some of our financial worries, to gatherings of our clan throughout the year; gatherings full of love and laughter! I look forward to thousands and thousands of hugs and kisses from by beautiful wife, to warm silky cats purring in my arms, to sunny spring mornings and to welcoming each new flower that wakes from its winter slumber... I look forward to hours of meditative silence, warm summer days, and many, many delicious meals that I will cook both for my wife, and for my order (I am the Tenzo - the Zen Gardener & Cook, whose responsibility it is to prepare delicious and nutritious meals for the monastic community and for our guests and lay practitioners). I look forward to all of the books that I will read, and all of the new things that I will learn. I look forward to each and every success and triumph - my own, and those of my family, my friends, and all of my acquaintances. I look forward to the feeling of freshness and possibility that each morning will bring... and to laying down at the end of a long day of work with my wife and holding her close to me as we drop off to sleep. I look forward to the laughter that we will share, and to connecting to people each day; reaffirming our shared humanity, and rejoicing in one another's presence.

A human life is a fleeting thing... it is like writing on the surface of water with a stick.. both coming into being and being destroyed simultaneously.. I want to be there, completely and unreservedly; for every single moment of my life; whatever it brings.

This year I hope to make each step that I take a soft, tranquil, loving kiss upon the earth, rather than running around planting strife and disquiet in a useless attempt to control everything that is happening around me... I want to reign in my mind's propensity to attach to everything that is whirling around me.. I want this year to be a year of calm joy in life.. I want to learn to be a better observer, and above all, a better listener.

Today is the first day of a whole new year. We have a blank canvas upon which we can paint whatever we desire.

Happy New Year everyone... I sincerely hope that this year will bring each and every one of you happiness, prosperity, joy and success.

Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog, for reading what I put down here, and for touching my life, and allowing me to touch yours.

I feel as though many of you have become my friends. I haven't met any of you, but I have developed a great deal of affection for you; We may not share the same space, but we share what is in our minds and what is within our hearts. This seems to me to be the very measure of friendship - we see directly into one another, without being swayed or deluded by judgments based upon personal appearance, social status, or any of the other illusory barriers that we humans erect between ourselves and others. I enjoy reading your blogs, and when you write of your high points and your low points, I feel them with you. Many of you have made it a point to be supportive of me when I was having a rough time, and many of you have given me cause to laugh until my stomach hurt and tears were streaming down my face. Some of you have given me reason to cry when you have written of your pain. All of you have shared your lives with me in some way.

Thanks guys.. it makes me happy to know that you are out there, somewhere.. I hope we have a great 2008!

Rough Weather Ahead..

I am home to take my wife to the airport. We received news just over an hour ago that her uncle passed away, and she will be trying to get the earliest possible flight to be with her family.

I will remain in the rear to attend to whatever must needs be done.

I am sad. I feel bad for my wife, her grandmother, and the rest of our family.

Just after she received news regarding her uncle, she also received more bad news about her father, who has been ill for some time now, and who's condition is apparently beginning to take a turn for the worst.

I don't know what will happen, but I suppose the most sensible thing to do would be to batten down the hatches and prepare for whatever may come. I somehow don't think it will be in the way of the best news possible.

If any of you who read her blog see this, perhaps you might pop over and cheer her up a little? You can find her here.


So. Thats what's going on... we are in it... no place to go but forward.

"Jack" Born: ?? ~ Died: 15 December 2007

I just finished burying a friend - Jack was a cat who adopted us some many years ago, and has lived in our yard, seeing us off whenever we would leave, and happily greeting us upon our return. He was a happy little spirit, and I will always remember him as being a constant friend and a part of everything that has taken place here for as long as we have lived in this place... He was a much beloved member of our clan, and I already miss him dearly...

See you on the other side, Jack

O dark, dark, dark. They all go into the dark.
The vacant interstellar spaces......
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

T.S. Eliot

Holiday Storm

For some reason my entire extended family is getting the living kicked out of us of late.

Every day brings more and more bad news piled on top of old bad news... I have no idea what the heck is going on!!

At first, we thought *we* were in bad shape (meaning my wife and I..), as once again we have hit a huge financial brick wall, and are working like hell to keep our heads above water, and, literally trying to keep a roof over our heads... its scary...

The tenants who lived in the downstairs apartment moved out, and just before that their cat, "Morris" who was Jack's buddy was nailed by a car and killed right in front of the house... which was very sad for all of us as Morris was a very cool cat, and was really well liked by all of us...

Jack the outside cat has taken a turn for the worse, won't eat a bite, and has started twitching and drooling... we have just about no money to pay for a vet visit, but, nevertheless, we are taking him tomorrow to be seen... part of me is in fear that he won't be coming home with us... part of me feels that whatever the price to me, it is important to do what's right for Jack. He has been my friend for some years... and he trusts me. I owe it to him to make whatever decisions are necessary to look out for his best interests. If he is suffering, and it can't be alleviated, then I guess we have to do what we have to do.. but it will break my heart to do it. He is a fixture here... and part of our family.

So many members of our family have been stricken with serious illness or have had illnesses suddenly get exponentially worse, that we don't even know who to worry about the most!!

We have been walking around getting bashed about and having the teeth rattled out of our collective heads mentally asking ourselves, "What the *fuck*?!?!"

We sat down and worked out a household budget last night... that was an adventure in adrenaline and gut-twisting, by the way... the only problem is that when we tried to find something that we could cut back on in order to save some money, we learned that we don't actually spend money on *anything* other than the bare necessities... we are some of the most frugal people we know!! Where do you go from there?? I fix my own shoes, make my own stuff... we eat for a week at a time on soups or other recipes that literally cost us pennies.. this batch of soup that we are feeding on for this week was literally made out of the scraps and leftovers that I found when I rooted around in the kitchen. It's good soup... but it was made primarily from all of the stuff that would have gone in the bin in another few days... We don't really go anywhere, we don't buy anything... we basically put all of our money towards trying to keep the bills paid. And the financial climate of late hasn't done a thing to make that any easier for us; the mortgage just increased by over a hundred dollars a month due to tax increases; and we already had some of the highest property taxes in the nation! There isn't anything to be done, we either have to find a way to pay it, or we are in major trouble - I don't even believe we would be able to scrape together enough cash to move if we had to!

We are circling the wagons and 'turtling up' to coin a phrase from my boxing days... trying to show the toughest parts of ourselves, and trying to hide the soft bits and keep them protected.

Marcheline had to have her window replaced in order for her vehicle to pass inspection... and the list of stuff just seems to go on and on and on...

Cancer, strokes, old age related stuff... so many people in our family suffering..

It is looking as though this holiday season is going to be a bit of a trying one for all of us.

I am trying to 'feel' the season.. but, honestly, I only really feel like going to bed, but, when I do; I lay there thinking of all this stuff or have freaky dreams about it all when I finally do drop off to sleep. I wake up more tired than when I laid down, and feeling as though someone has wailed the shit out of me with a baseball bat to boot!

It seems as though we turned a corner somewhere, and it suddenly became incredibly difficult to keep all of the bills paid. What on earth is going on?? The expenses just keep climbing, and the salaries go nowhere..

We have both been searching for part-time work, but nearly 95% of the job postings are bogus! The ones that *are* real are either so far away that it isn't worth even applying, or they pay crap, don't respond to the application, or they have one opening; from 10 to 2 on Tuesday, and from 3AM to 9:55AM on Thursday... what the fuck is *that*? How can you hold down a full time job and be expected to work part time in the middle of the work day?

The salaries for the jobs that *are* real, and *are* hiring would require about 90 hours per week to make a paycheck that was worth cashing... it just isn't doable.

I know that the universe doesn't conspire against us, and that things simply work out the way that they work out.. but when stuff like this happens, it is a huge reminder to me of just how small and insignificant I really am... and that everything that I know and everything that I have and am can be snuffed out in an instant - just like that! And; there is really little or nothing at all that I can do about it if it were to happen. I feel like a wee bit of flotsam in an ocean storm sometimes...

In a way thats really frightening, but in another way its really liberating. There isn't any point in worrying too much, I think, when all that I can really do is what I can do; I will either be successful, or I won't, and I will have to deal with whatever comes either way. If the worst happens, I will have to deal with it enough at that time - so no sense suffering about it now. I would be better put to use trying to respond to whatever situation is at hand, and doing the best that I can do. If I do my best, then its my best, and the outcome is the outcome. There simply isn't any other option... so, why worry about it? In Irish we have a saying that addresses this, "Marbh le Té, agus marbh gan é!" ("You are dead with your tea, or with out it!") ((the implication is that you may as well enjoy it!))

I am thankful that I have learned, through my practice, to be able to find the small enjoyable moments that are hidden, like little presents, within the maelstrom of all the other crap that is going on around me; and that I am able to enjoy those moments with the whole of my being whenever they make themselves available.

Today's sunset was one of the most beautiful, and one of the saddest, for some reason, that I can remember in a long time...

Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Joy. Grief. Celebration. Mourning. It is all a part of my story... and I am determined not to turn away from any of it. Whatever comes, that is my life, and I am going to live it to the best of my ability.

It would be nice if we could find a way to solve the problems that are cropping up all around us... but, I suppose that is what life is about in a way. We just have to take whatever hand is dealt us, and do the best we can with what we've got.

In any case, I have to find a way to maintain my center while all of this stuff is going on.. its the only way that I can remain calm, and keep a clear mind so that I can both recognize, and react to, whatever opportunities may present themselves..

.. if and when they come, I will be waiting.



Happy Holidays, all...

Bear

Fractal Vegetables

I came across this amazingly beautiful and intricate vegetable while perusing a library book yesterday... (yes, I know its pathetic; I actually take out books from the library about vegetables. ....You don't know the half of it!)

I was at once stunned and enchanted by the spiraling patterns within patterns.. the impossible beauty... Why haven't I ever heard of these things before now?!?!

There was no label identifying the photo in the book, so it took me a little digging around to find out what on earth I was looking at.

And so, my friends. Without further ado, I introduce to you -

The 'Broccoflower'.

Thanks to Syd - (who has de-lurked in order to lend me a hand!), I have learned that this thing is actually called a -

'Romanesco Cauliflower'

or a -

'Romanesco Cabbage'

I have learned cool stuff!! Thanks again, Syd! Don't be a stranger!

Is this thing cool, or what?!?! - AND - you can EAT IT!!! HA!!