Wood

Yesterday was our 5th Wedding Anniversary!! (The traditional gift is 'Wood' I have learned... I was curious to know whether the fifth anniversary was the 'linoleum anniversary' or the 'tin anniversary' or what.. well, it's wood. Wood is cool.)

I am thrilled to celebrate five years of a stupendously marvelous, wondrous, and unparalleled marriage! I couldn't find a better wife, lover, best-friend, confidant, teammate or partner if I were to search the entire world.. through all of time. I am the luckiest man alive.

We are actually celebrating our anniversary throughout this entire weekend.. and we are having, as always, a blast!!

I am ever so grateful to be who I am, where I am, and able to pass on this news!!

I am looking forward to many, many more anniversaries, holidays, birthdays, occasions, and just ordinary (even though none of our days are actually ordinary..) days spent with my gorgeous, sexy bride.

I could sit here and blog more... but I have a wife to be with.. so, I am outta here, like Vladimir!!

... till next time!

Smoothing out the Wrinkles

Some time ago, I requested that my teacher give me full ordination as a monk (I am currently a Sramenara ((also known as Samenara)) which is a novice monk.)

He told me that he would give it thought, and, after some period of time, met with me to discuss the issue, and decided to put the matter off for some months while he mulled it over and while he also paid close attention to my practice, analyzed my reasons for seeking such ordination, observed my general demeanor and level of understanding, etc., etc. All of the things that a Zen Priest and Teacher is supposed to do when confronted with such a request.

This past week, he sat down with me and advised me that he is willing to ordain me, once I have completed the requisite residency training. (I completed my residency training in a different order, but this doesn't translate or transfer directly over... I more or less had to start over, but the pace has been somewhat accelerated. )



Although I was eager to attend the training, even though it is quite difficult, I was confronted with a problem; I don't live in Asia any longer... and in this country there is no infrastructure whereby the monastic community receives material support from the laity. I have to work in order to support myself.

I was concerned that this may be a huge (read: 'insurmountable') obstacle in my path. But, a good Zen Cook takes what ingredients he has, and makes the best meal possible (as I have said in a previous post..).. and I went to my boss and asked if I could have the time off. After the screaming and yelling ended, I was more or less convinced that any possibility of getting time off from work was more or less non-existent.

When I relayed this to my teacher (perhaps hoping secretly that he would offer some other way for me to meet the prerequisites... um.. no dice! You gotta walk the walk.. and that's pretty much that... which, all things considered, is part of what makes it all worthwhile to me.), he nodded sagely, made an odd smile, and said, very quietly, "Keep trying."

So, I went home, sat down, and wrote a letter to my supervisor, the general manager, also addressing the letter to the office manager and to the president of the company.

I explained my reason for requesting the time off, what the training would consist of, who, what, where, why, and how... everything that I could think of that would help them to understand precisely what it was that I would be doing....

I wanted to make it clear that this wasn't a pretext to take a couple of days off... this won't be the easiest way to pass the time; quite the opposite, actually...



I explained in the letter that the person who would be presiding over the training may very well likely not be around to offer such training again; he is 100 years old, and it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that he may not be around for very much longer. Each day that he remains with us is a blessing, and a miracle.

I made it a point to simply leave the letter on my boss's chair, and to not pressure him in any way. I made no reference to it whatsoever.



I went into his office to confer with him on a project that I am working on, and he said to me, "Tell the office manager which days you will be taking off.."

Pleasantly surprised, I said, "Thank you!"

"How could I refuse this?? What? I'm gonna say 'no!' to this?? - Just go tell him what days you will need. We'll miss you while you are gone."

And that was that!

The next obstacle is a financial one... I am working on it, and waiting to hear what the results will be. If this problem is solved, I will be able to take the next step in my journey from warrior to priest.

It seems as though the way is being smoothed out for me by unseen forces... perhaps it is just the way things work out.. In any case, I have managed to come a lot further than I could have hoped.

When and if I am able to find out what the schedule will be like, providing I am able to obtain a syllabus, I will post it here... If not, I will post a fairly close approximation in order to give you an idea of what this type of training consists of...

Who knows? Within the next couple of years, I very well may be posting about my impending ordination!

I know that the road will become more and more difficult as I move along it... My teacher will expect me to take more and more responsibilities in the running of the center, and in doing the things that are expected of a fully ordained monk. He will test my understanding, my resolve, my patience, my endurance and stamina, and my resourcefulness.... and if he is convinced that my vocation is sincere, he will set a date for the ceremony.

If he has done his job properly, and if I have done mine, it will be much like my wedding in the sense that it will simply be a public declaration of something that is already present... something that is as much a part of me as my heart. Something from which I cannot be separated... much as the river cannot be separated from the ocean once it has flowed into it...

Now I must begin to prepare myself for the upcoming ordeal. I will have to work harder, solidify my practice, and learn not to cling to comforts. They will be in short supply for the duration....

But, this is what it means to be a monk!

Afterthought

My mom sent me a pair of semi-frantic emails, apologizing profusely for 'going off' on me. Apparently, she remembered that we had just spoken a few days prior, and I suppose she reconsidered the diatribe and felt that it was an unjust flaming after all.

I told her there were no worries... I don't particularly enjoy being 'gone off' on... but, well... she's my mom... and she's old... and I am sure that she must deal with a great deal of frustration, and a host of other things that create suffering, loss of dignity to some extent, not to mention loneliness and all of the other bits that come along with age and infirmity....

She lives very far away, and I know that she is feeling the pressure of time which makes the separation from family all the more difficult for her.

I find that it is mildly disturbing to me to see this note of near panic in my mom's personality. She has always been this sort of 'larger than life', powerful, domineering personality. As a parent, she was extremely stern and authoritative, (well, tyrannical would be slightly more honest...), as well as verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive/violent at times.. Which, I suspect, she must have perceived as a show of strength or something, presumably to seize and maintain control (Of us? Of life? Who knows?? In any case, control is an illusion, and trying to maintain it causes suffering for everybody...)

As I got older, I learned that I was stronger when I was gentle than when I tried to be 'tough' or confrontational... and I learned that I always had the power to excuse myself from contact with anyone. Including my mom.

I don't threaten or flaunt this power... but, on the occasions when I have little or no options - I simply fade away... and I am gone. And in this case, this is the sound of one hand clapping; silence!!

I felt, upon reading her email to me, that she feared that I would simply stop communicating with her, or perhaps close the routes of communication altogether..

.. and this saddens me for some reason.

I explained to her that I don't really attach to these situations or circumstances.. and that I had simply figured that we (she and I) had gotten our wires crossed for some reason, and that this mis-communication was the reason that she had gotten angry with me...

In any case, I set her mind at ease, and no harm done.

Except that it made me open my eyes to the fact that my mom is old, and lonely, and weak, and frightened.

And this is what is in store for most of us... (those who get themselves killed in other, more dramatic fashion, or at a younger age, are excused.)

Old age, failing health, and death. I am of the nature to suffer these things. I cannot escape it, and I cannot forestall it. There is no way to avoid it, nobody and/or nothing to fight, negotiate with, coerce, extort, or plead with..

There is nothing to do...

Nowhere to turn.

She will die. Everyone that I know will die. And I will die.

... Now. What do I do with that??

No religion, philosophy, or ideology has the answer... life cannot be 'solved'. It can only be lived... moment by moment.

Only by standing upon my own two feet, and by being a lamp unto myself rather than trying to depend on other sources for answers; and by cultivating a calm, nimble, non-attaching mind do I have any hope of being able to come to terms with these simple truths.

I find myself wondering how my Mom copes now... and how she will cope with whatever is to come in the future.

In this country, in our society, I find that nobody *ever* wants to consider that they are going to die... they run around, gathering things to keep; as though there is some attainable goal that will render one too wealthy to age or die. Or, on the other side of the equation, are the folks to try to calculate the exact distance that they can walk, run, or bike, and the number of 'healthy' foods that they must ingest, while avoiding a single teaspoon of ice cream throughout their entire life, that will keep them immortal and allow them to live forever.... but, this is nonsense, and we all know it on some level. There is nothing that is going to change the way things are. We are mortal. We live for some period of time... and then we die. And that, my friends, is that. There is no point in hurrying, because everyone's destination is the same... yes, some will say that we can prolong our life by being healthy, and I agree...

... but, the truth of the matter is that we are all just quibbling over a few short years, because, in the end... we are all going out 'feet first'. Period.

This isn't to say that I am a nihilist or pessimist or negative... because it isn't negative... it is simply the way it is. It is actually perfect just the way it is. The problem isn't that we die... the problem is complex, but, essentially, we expect that a reason for our life should be provided for us (we make our own reason, if a reason is needed at all.. ((I don't personally feel that I need a reason.. I am alive... that's all of it. The reason is sort of beside the point.)), and the other part of the problem is that we want to avoid death, and that we want our questions answered and our problems solved... but, there aren't any answers... there aren't any solutions, and we can want to avoid death every moment of our lives, and we will still be dead and as an added bonus, we will have squandered the time we had worrying about something that is unavoidable.

I guess the major question that springs to my mind is not 'How can I avoid dying?' - because that's, well, sort of ridiculous... because I can't. What is most important is what happens right now??! How do I live?! How do I do my utmost at whatever I happen to be doing.. in each and every moment, as it takes place??

How do I improve my life RIGHT NOW?

How do I become a better person NOW?

How do I respond correctly to each situation AS IT OCCURS?

How do I help others in the way that they most require my help - NOW?

How do I help my mom??

I think I helped a little... I doubt that she considers very much more that what she wants at the moment.. and that is for all of her family to be gathered around her in her last days.

Unfortunately, I don't see how that can work out... Visits, perhaps... but, like everything else, they are impermanent, and, in my experience, are spent almost entirely discussing when the next visit will be and how it will be arranged, and what we will do, and what we will say, and who else can make it, etc., etc.

I thought that this was peculiar at the time... but when I pay close attention to how people behave in their day to day lives (and I do, by the way... very, very close attention...), I realize that everyone does this very same thing to some extent.

Instead of being alive fully and completely no matter what they happen to be doing, so many people defer living until 'this' happens, or 'that' happens.

The problem is that 'this' and 'that' are only words... and they will only ever be accessible in the present moment. The present moment is when everything and everyone is accessible to us. And one day they will all be gone... people, things, and moments alike. Because when you are gone... the universe goes with you.

I would like to see my Mom wake up and learn to live in the present moment. I would like to see her become like a Zen Cook, who doesn't complain about the ingredients that he doesn't have, but who takes stock of what he does have, cleans the kitchen, and sets about preparing the most nutritious and delicious meal that is possible with the ingredients at hand.

Life happens NOW. There isn't any time for indulging in anger, or bitterness, or frustration.

The way is to simply take what life unfolds before you, and do the very best that you can with it, while still remaining divorced from any expectation or hope for the outcome. In this way however things turn out... they are exactly right... because they are exactly how they are... and that 'suchness' is precisely what it happens to be - and you can't get more perfect than that!!

Facing a New Week...

Friday I missed work; I had been up all night with fierce stomach cramps and some other adventures that needn't be expounded upon... suffice it to say that I was not fit to leave the house for any reason of less import than fleeing a fire or some other life-threatening reason.

I felt marginally better Friday evening... and by Saturday felt more or less human. This was fortunate, since Saturday was my wife and my 'Eclipse Anniversary' which I wouldn't want to miss...

Today we woke up and ground some fresh coffee-beans and while listening to 'Sunday Baroque' on NPR enjoyed our coffee in the garden while we played a couple of games of chess with Jack (the outside cat) at our feet.

Afterwards, we sat quietly and just enjoyed the morning. I was watching what was quite possibly one of the largest dragonflies I had ever seen in all of my life as it alternately perched on a limb at the top of a tree in the neighbor's yard two houses away... the tree is perhaps 80 to 100 feet tall.. (I told you it was a huge dragonfly!! -- we are estimating ((well.. guesstimating, really... but still... we are fairly close, I think...)) that it had to have been about 10" to a foot long from wingtip to wingtip... so, even if we are inadvertently exaggerating, and you take away the 2" extra resulting from the 'Holy shit!' factor... it is still a monster of a bug!! -- as I had been saying, I was watching it as it would perch on the top of a huge Catawba tree... and then it would take off and fly around up there, presumably hunting for breakfast... and then, I guess when it caught something it would return to its perch and munch away... I was getting more and more blown away as it became apparent that its size wasn't the result of an optical illusion... it was just BIG!! Birds would fly very close to it at times, and that let me guess its size relative to them... I also wondered what went through their pea-brains when they got a look at this fella sitting up there contentedly munching away on water buffalo or draft horses or whatever the hell it eats!!

While we were looking at the dragonfly, the birds, and the various butterflies that popped by to inspect the flowers or play in the mist from the sprinklers, we saw another creature that sort of defies description; The closest thing that it resembled was something half way between a moth, and a bat. It had a sort of wedge-shaped body, or was carrying something... I couldn't really tell (I was sort of caught by surprise by the sight of this thing, to be honest....), and wings that resembled the wings of a Leonardo DaVinci Flying Machine... with a curved front surface and a sort of membranous trailing edge. The body was very dark in color, and the wings were a reddish-sorta-burnt-orange in color. It didn't do a great deal of flapping... more gliding... with a very occasional lazy flap every so often. The body looked as though it was hanging from the wings more than between them, which is what made me wonder if whatever the heck it was was carrying something. It flew by in one direction, went behind some trees, and then flew back out again before flying off... so I only really got a couple of glimpses of it for perhaps eight to ten seconds in total. After it had gone, I sort of just sat there, mystified, trying to make what I had seen gel with some creature in my mental catalog of living things... and I couldn't. Has anybody else seen anything that sounds like what I have described??

After sitting in our garden for a while, I made a salad, and we ate in companionable silence before heading up to the Zen Garden to weed and harvest altar flowers, and then over to the Zen Center to trim and rake and sweep and clean. We watered whatever needed watering, straightened and neatened, and put away dishes and cups and whatever other doo-dads needed puttin' away... and then, after a brief stop to pick up a cold drink for each of us, headed towards home, stopping to do some grocery shopping on the way.

Marcheline made some of her ass-kicking salsa when we got home, and we watched a DVD together and ate chips and salsa. It was a nice peaceful evening.

Until.

My mom called and left a message on my voicemail sort of hammering me because she 'hasn't been able to get in touch with me for over six weeks' -- which sounds like a legitimate complaint, except for the fact that I spoke with her just this past week. So, what do I do with that?? I'm not going to tell her that we just spoke last week and make her feel like an ass... so I suppose when I talk to her, I will just let her rail at me and tell her that I will do my best not to let it happen again.

She said "That's a very long time and is unacceptable... even for a monk!!"

This seems to be the angle that anyone and everyone who ever gets annoyed or angry with me takes; they play the 'monk' card. As in, "You know... I thought monks were supposed to be.... [insert favorite characteristic of the moment here], or, "if this monk thing doesn't help you to be [flavor of the month again] I don't see what good it is."

Monks are 'supposed' to be like the monks that one sees on television and in the movies. It's all 'grasshopper this' and 'grasshopper that' -- smiles and doing whatever it takes to make everyone feel however they would like to be made to feel at any given moment.

Well..... Wrong.

Monks feel anger, and they fart, and they eat, and they sometimes feel that it is a responsibility to break someone away from their attachments and from their views.

And some people don't like this... wrong views and faulty perceptions cause suffering. Attachments cause suffering. Facing reality is not always so easy.

In Korea there is a proverb that translates to approximately; "Garbage people become monks, garbage monks become Zen monks, garbage Zen monks become Buddha..."

This means that fundamentally, those human beings who have a mystical or monastic calling are most often dissatisfied with society as they see it, perceive it, or experience it... and wish to follow a path that will allow them to perceive truth, or reality, or what some would term the divine, or god, or GOD or what have you....

This dissatisfaction most often results in these people being perceived as being somehow odd, different, strange, or separate from 'the rest of us' in some way by most people with whom they come into contact.

Initially, the monastic experience then separates these individuals even further from society... in some cases this is permanent... so, taking the robe and the bowl is, in effect, entering the coffin... dying to the world... and extinguishing the notion of a separate self. In many cases, at least among Zen Monastics, this period of separation comes to an end, and the Zen Monk is expected to return to society and to engage the world... sometimes as a Priest or monk, sometimes as a 'civilian' who is not recognizable in any outward way as a monk... or as a former monk... (though recognizably different to those who perhaps come to know these individuals...)

It is not the function of a monk to prop up or to support whatever perception, notion, belief, illusion, or what have you that somebody may hold... it is the function of a monk to hold up a mirror to that person, and to help them to experience reality through their own experience.... and, at times, this experience may not be the most pleasant experience.... life is difficult, life is confusing, and life throws us curves... it cannot be 'solved', there isn't an 'answer' and monks don't always behave in a set pattern. So... to those of you who feel that I should meet or approximate whatever belief you may hold regarding my vocation, I suppose I have to say this; Insomuch as I adhere to the precepts of my order, the direction of my teacher, and my own personal judgment of what is true function in any given circumstance or situation... that is *precisely* how a monk acts!! If you were expecting something else, the problem may very well be with your expectation.

In those cases where the problem is with my behavior, I offer this; If I were already perfect, I would not feel any need to submit myself or to devote myself to the harsh discipline of a monastic lifestyle. I am a simple monk struggling to learn what I can and deepen my practice.... not a saint, not a god, and certainly not enlightened in any way, shape or form.

I don't have the answers... I don't even have the questions!!

So... to my mom, when you cannot get in touch with me when you would like, it probably doesn't have anything whatsoever to do with my monastic practice, unless I happen to be engaged specifically in that practice when you are trying to contact me, in which case I am a very good monk indeed.... but more with the fact that life happens... and it unfolds to each of us in whatever fashion it happens to take.... and we have to respond to that... so, unfortunately, I am not always available to answer the telephone, or to pick one up to call.... this is not indicative of disrespect or a lack of love on my part... it just means that time is a finite resource, and that perhaps I am not so great at managing it.

For those who ask me 'Monk Questions' and then get pissed off at me when I don't give the answer you wanted... all I can do is respond in the best way I am able.

Q: "Why am I here?"

A: "On Long Island?? I thought you lived here?"

Q: "NO!! Why am I alive... on earth!!?? Does life have a purpose?? Why am I HERE??!"

A: Well... to this sort of question, all I can really do by way of response, is to ask a question of my own; "Are you REALLY here??".

It sounds as though I am being a wise ass... but I am not. If you are here... REALLY here... in the present moment... which is the only moment that is ever available to you.... this is not a question that bears answering. Go drink some tea! Wash your cup! Look at the clouds in the sky!

As to the other big question, "What happens when I die?" -- well, that is a question that will answer itself in time... but my question is, "What happens RIGHT NOW while you are alive??"

No ideology has the answers, folks... life is a process that we take with each breath.... I am not the same person at this moment that I was when I began to write this sentence... but, nothing has been lost.... I don't exist... but here I am!! My experience is not your experience... I cannot give anyone answers to these questions...

If you were to come to me and ask me to serve you tea, but you had no cup... I couldn't serve you tea by pouring it directly into your open mouth, or into your hands... the tea would scald you and it would ruin the floor mats or the carpet...

You would need a cup before I could serve you.... and in any case, I couldn't tell you how the tea tastes... you would have to have a cup, and then you would have to drink your tea!!

In the same way, I cannot give answers to questions.... I can only help you to find a cup... and then I can serve you some tea...


... You have to drink it yourself.


Now I have to go to sleep... tommorrow starts a new week.... and there will be a lot of tea to drink!!

Go get yourself a cup!

Eclipse Anniversary

My wife and I celebrate two anniversaries: Our wedding anniversary, and the anniversary of our first date, upon which we became a couple... and have remained so, quite happily, for eight years as of today!!

The night of our first date happened to be the night of the last eclipse of the millennium... so we refer to it as our 'Eclipse Anniversary'. It was the night of the last eclipse of the 20th century... and of our first kiss as a couple.

There have been many kisses since that night... many hugs... many dreams shared, and many that have been made to come true. We have cooked and enjoyed countless meals... laughed more than I can even manage to convey... and have come to know one another more intimately than most people ever do, I think... In many cases, I have heard that this results in contempt between people... but, in our case it has made us love and respect one another more and more deeply as the years have passed and we have been privileged to see one another's character shine through when it counted.

The past eight years have been the happiest and the best of my life... I have learned what really matters... I have learned to give... and I have learned to accept. I have learned what it is to truly have a friend; a very best friend.
We have been through difficulties that would have crushed most relationships... and, I am sure, has... many times. We have faced adversaries, faced defeat, and faced fear together... we have lived, loved, persevered, and triumphed together.

When nobody saw the good in me... she stood by my side, took my hand in hers... and gave me her heart to safeguard. When others turned their backs... she took me in her arms.

When I had nothing.. she gave me everything... and she continues to give each and every day.

I have learned about strength and gentleness from her... I have learned that being in love isn't something in a movie or in a book... it's not only what you are and what you do... but how you face each moment side by side.. I have learned that we are much more as a couple than we are individually... and I have learned that there is someone in this world that loves me so fiercely that I can I can feel it in my chest when I wake beside her in the middle of the night... and that when I let myself think about it... I can hardly breathe.

When I get knocked flat, she helps me to fly... and when my head is in the clouds, she grabs me and places my feet firmly back on solid earth.

I have learned that there is not a smile anywhere in all of the world that can light up a room like hers does... that are no hands that can work so hard, create such beauty, and bring such pleasure as hers do... no eyes that are so endlessly deep or that dance and glitter with as much mischief and mirth as her eyes do...

I have learned that there isn't another woman in all of time that I could ever love as deeply as I do this one....

She is beautiful to me... unpredictable as lightning... mysterious, amazing, fey, wondrous, and magickal...

And today I am ever so grateful that of all of the guys in the world...

... she chose me!

Snapping Back to Reality

Sometimes events transpire to take place in just such a way that they serve to give you a sharp slap in the face, and, probably for the best of all concerned, snap you back to reality.

It is curious how we form our very own bubble of perception that we carry around with us... when the world, 'just as it is', is right there all the time.

Makes me wonder how I could have been wandering around in a fog for so long...

Well... everything is *exactly* what it is... just like that!!

Why have I been carrying all this nonsense around in my head for all this time??

Bear's 'Peculiar Family Habits' Vol. I

I am of a somewhat strange ancestry... though 'strange' may be a misnomer; at least in the United States where many of us have rather... ahh... interesting ancestral backgrounds.

On my dad's side, not so strange; Scottish on his mom's side, and Scottish on his dad's side... all the way back. Scottish. Period.

On my mom's side, though;

My mom's dad was Scottish, English, and Chinese (That ancestor's name was Chen En-Yeng, who was an immigrant to Jamaica).

My mom's mom (my grandmother who you may recognize as 'Nana' in some of my previous posts... Nana more or less raised me..) was Scottish and Welsh on her father's side - her dad was supposedly an illegitimate heir, on his mother's side, of Henry Morgan (of the 'Spiced Rum' fame... who also happened to have been a Welsh soldier who fought in the English Civil War, showed up in the West Indies, and became a pirate, later a privateer, and then Governor of Jamaica -- the usual disclaimer applies here, as this may be total and unadulterated bullshit.. but, that's the story as it was told to me... so who am I to go against the grain?), and on her mom's side claimed Irish (heir to the Earl of Ros common, supposedly... this one is actually true, and documented... but it isn't the kind of hear that ever actually inherits anything, thankfully... no worries about anyone plotting to poison me for my title!), Cornish.. (there were rumblings about the Duke of Devonshire.. I know that one existed, but I have never been able to find a concrete connection...), and Rroma (Gypsy) - this is sort of cool, except for the fact that in Rroma culture, when you marry a Gadje or outsider, you are expelled, ousted, given the boot... ostracized, as it were... and are no longer considered a Gypsy (so now I don't have to tell fortunes or steal or be oppressed, so I'm in luck!), Arawak Indian, and most likely African.

My grandmother was born in Jamaica, the West Indies... when it was still a British Colony, and came here when she was an adult. My Dad was born here, but his folks came over on the boat...

The man who I call my grandfather (Nana's husband; 'Pop') is actually no blood relation, having married into the family after my mom was born. My moms dad was an admiral in the Navy, and though I knew him, he wasn't really a big part of my life. Pop, however, raised me, more or less... to the extent that I took his name so that he would have an heir.

Now... as to the title of this post.

Some of the habits, traditions, superstitions, and other peculiarities of my family.

My grandfather wouldn't let you throw anything out. If you did, he brought it back, claiming that it was still good. If you tossed out moldy bread, he would bring it back, eat it... gagging the entire family... while proclaiming through a mouthful of green mold, "Penicillin!! Good!!" - Ack!!

When we drove past cemeteries, my grandmother would insist that everyone in the vehicle 'hold their buttons'.

My mom had a thing about us answering her from another room... she would call out a question from wherever she was... but if we had the temerity to yell out the answer, say 'What?!' or 'Huh?!' or even 'I'll be right there!' - we got our faces slapped through the back of our heads. If we didn't answer her and didn't arrive at her location instantly, on the other hand... we also got the shit slapped out of us. So it was a toss up, I guess....

My brother (the middle one) would fight with anyone, anywhere, under any circumstances... for any or for no reason... whether he (or they) needed it or not... This penchant has gotten his, and my asses kicked numerous times... once he cut the electric cord of the telvision.. with a pair of metal scissors.. because my mom changed the channel from a show that he sort of wanted to watch. He is arguably.. to this very day... one of the most stubborn people I have ever known. If not the most stubborn. I'm next in line..

You had to go out the same door you came in.

No hats on in the house. Or on the table.

No opening umbrellas.

No whistling in the house.

You couldn't cover a photo of a dead person.

My grandfather hated the concept of 'soaking' dishes... and would raise holy hell whenever my grandmother did that... which was basically every day.

My grandmother dressed to kill... and cooked the same way. She drove that way, too... but didn't know it... or at least didn't admit it.

A conversation regarding my grandmother's driving:

Nana: "I can drive on the side of a mountain!"

My Uncle: "Yeah. .... It's the roads that you have a hard time with."

My grandfather didn't go anywhere with the whole family. No vacations. No outings. No restaurants. Nothing. He would go out with any one of us at a time... but not with more than one. I have no idea why.

My grandfather and his entire family were Gaelic speakers. They would not, however, speak Gaelic outside of the house/family. Even to other Gaelic speakers. Whenever I asked about this, I would be 'shoosh!'ed.

If we got lost, everyone had to get out of the car and put something on inside out.

Every time the family got together, there was a big fight. With tables getting overturned and somebody bleeding.

My mom is terrified of the water.

We used to have proper 'tea'... much to the amusement of my friends...

My grandmother's cousin fought in WWI in the Canadian Army (He emigrated from Jamaica to Canada) and wrote a book about it, entitled "Private Peat". It was a best seller in its day.

My cousin wrote a book that was loosely based on our family history, entitled "Abeng". She has written quite a lot of books, actually. She is now estranged from the family because her parents passed judgment on her and gave her a hell of a time because of her sexual preference. This makes me sad. I don't care what her preferences are, so long as she is loved, and happy. Now I have no contact with her at all over this nonsense...

My grandmother was terrified of birds... but kept a few as pets for as long as I knew her. When my grandfather died, she insisted that he had become a seagull. This was disturbing to all of us.

My grandfather never once missed a day of school in his life, and never missed a day of work unless he was in the hospital. Once he was pronounced dead, but woke up and lived another eighteen years or so! He used to carry his obituary around in his pocket.

My grandmother died in a fall down a flight of stairs while out drinking with her friends to celebrate a clean bill of health from the doctor.

My granmother would send me entire letters in which she would discuss people that I had never in the whole of my life ever heard of... but she would discuss them as though I was supposed to know precisely who they were.

My brother, the middle one, was terrified of grass as a baby. (Happily, he grew out of it... and probably smoked most of it through his teens and twenties...)

My other brother, the youngest one, won't drive. He was a passenger in a motor vehicle accident in which his best friend, who was driving the car, was killed. The family blamed my brother on their son's death (unfairly, as far as I can see...), and he has never driven since then.

My grandmother's sister once had a tiger cub for a pet. When it started to knock her down, she gave it to a zoo. When she died, her son, who still lived with her, 'guarded' her body for days. When my mother and grandmother went to the house after not getting a response on the phone, he kept them hostage with a crossbow for a few hours... finally, they talked their way out of there and had him committed, and her buried.... ... okay.. that's weird.

My grandmother once told me a story that my mom, while living alone in an apartment before I was born, once got up out of bed to go to the bathroom, turned around, and saw herself still asleep in the bed. This scared the living crap out of her, and she fled the apartment and ran to a tavern either down stairs, or down the street, or at least somewhere within 'fleeing' distance... when the tavern owner returned to the apartment with her, the 'other' mom had apparently gotten up and left... though, knowing how long my mom took to get ready, I don't see how this could be possible... even if she was an infernal creature at the time. That happens to be the scary part of that story, as far as I'm concerned!

I remember eating 'chicken delight' with my grandmother while we watched the workmen working on the Verrazzano Narrows bridge.

My grandmother put on a show at the 65-65 World's Fair, and we used to go there every day when I was very small.

My grandmother used to talk to her plants. In response, they grew to unbridled sizes and shapes. We lived in a place that was dubbed 'The Congo' by the rest of the family. She could pick up a twig off of the ground and make it grow.

We had a cat, named 'Jego' who absconded from the vehicle while we were on the way back to Staten Island, NY from Rhode Island. We were actually still in Rhode Island, and had just visited, at my grandmother's insistence, the grave of a purported Gypsy Princess, or Queen, or somesuch piffle... and the cat shot out of the vehicle and headed off to parts unknown on foot. After five or six hours of looking, searching, crying, calling, and waiting... we sadly packed back into the old Valiant and headed home. A year later, Jego showed up at the door, still wearing his name tag.

My grandfather slept with all of the bedroom windows open, under only a sheet... no matter what time of year it was.

My brother -- yes, the 'middle one' -- could hit just about anything with a thrown object. You could be running through trees, and he could pick up a fallen crab apple, a monkey orange, or a rock, and nail you in the head with it while you were tearing along at full-tilt.

I eat my food one thing at a time. Everybody goes to great pains to patiently explain to me, as though to a drooling idiot, that all of the food will be subsequently mixed together in my stomach. (Thanks for that... in which case I fail to see what the big hurry is to mix it!)

My grandfather hated to see people take a drink of anything while they were eating. "Don't wash down your food!" -- Well... why the hell not?? If it's my food why can't I do what I like with it??!

My mom had a method of interrogating us where she would unfailingly catch us in a lie... particularly when we were telling the absolute truth. This was a tough one.

If, while she was beating the crap out of us, we cried.. she would accuse us of being 'pansies' 'petunias' and 'marys' -- and beat us all the harder.

If, while she was beating the crap out of us, we simply took the beating, and failed to cry, or otherwise show signs of discomfort, she would accuse us of being obstinate, stubborn, and defiant -- and beat us all the harder.

In my family, we use words like 'jook', 'weeber', 'feshivle', 'facokted', 'battyman', 'duppy', 'wunna', 'stramash', 'muckle', 'sasanach', and 'vex'.

I was told as a child that there was a creature who lived in the refrigerator, called a 'Hootie', and that it was this creature who turned the light on when you opened the fridge door.

We used to leave bowls of milk out for the 'good neighbors', also known as the 'gentry' or the 'wee people'. The milk was always gone the next day.

My grandmother used to insist that if you broke an egg into a glass of water at exactly noon on Good Friday, the shape of a large cross flanked by two smaller crosses would be formed by the egg (white? yolk? -- the egg-goo anyway...)

No matter how many times we did this to prove that it was a big pile of horseshit, she would still insist that it was true.

It was only after about ten or fifteen years after her death that it finally dawned on me that she was having us on the whole time, and probably having a good laugh about the whole thing!!

Plans & Specs

The licensing process for the Real Estate thing has turned out to be a major pain in the ass taken on a life of its own, it would seem, and so far, nothing is happening; and I have no say regarding the time frame... so, as it turns out, all I can do is to wait and see what happens.

The rub is that the Broker who was sponsoring me decided that the process was taking much longer than he had anticipated, and that he was no longer willing to continue to pay me under the circumstances. This is understandable, actually... as a brokerage is not really set up to carry any body's weight, financially - the idea being that each agent brings in their own business, and that the brokerage takes a cut of that business (read: "The Lion's Share") in return for providing the resources to see the deal through to a successful completion..

This doesn't mean that the Real Estate thing is in the bin, just that it is on indefinite hold until the licensing situation goes through whatever permutations it must go through and a license mysteriously arrives in the mail one day... perhaps... If I am lucky....



In the meantime, I find it necessary to be able to earn a living... for, even though I am a monk, and, as such, not overly focused upon the more material side of things; I still must have a place to live, food to eat, and clothing to wear... and however humble those necessities may be, they still cost money. So.. I must work.

In Asia, there is an infrastructure in place that took form over centuries whereby the lay community and the monastic community support one another... the monastic community provides support in the form of both spiritual guidance and leadership, and in the less abstract form of manual labor when required. In return, the lay community provides support in the form of donated food, cloth, and medicine. In this country, this arrangement does not exist.. so, it is up to the individual monastic community to decide how to handle this situation. In our case, we work.. plain and simple. So, after a fashion, I have one foot in the monastic community, and one foot in the world.. which situation offers its very own particular set of benefits and obstacles.. but that is for another post.



I took a job as an "Architectural Estimator" for a manufacturing company. I described my scintillating interview technique in an earlier post entitled "Presence" whereby I simply sat there... like a bump on a log... and essentially said nothing at all of any value or substance... and got a job offer!! (Go figure!)



The job is 9AM to 5PM - Monday through Friday.. holidays off... with full medical benefits after three months... which isn't so bad! (I don't know the whys and wherefores of the benefits yet... it may very well turn out to suck very badly.. but I will cross that bridge when I come to it... from what I have been given to understand, however, it is not at all a bad arrangement.) My office is perhaps 10 to 15 minutes from my house... and the people are relatively nice... meaning that they basically leave me to my own devices; which I like.



My job is to receive requests for price quotes from material distributors, architects, and contractors; primarily for projects that involve public money, and are being bid on.

I receive a packet of product and material specifications.. and usually a set of blueprints, or plans... or simply a set of CAD drawings.

What I have to do is to read these documents, analyze them, and determine what, specifically -- both quantitatively and qualitatively -- the client requires for the project, and to then come up with a price that they can then use to come up with a bid estimate. If the bid is successful, we get the contract. This can range from a single item of less than one hundred dollars... to a contract involving millions of dollars...



The plans and specs are not always very clear in either content or meaning.. and in some cases, I am learning... a single word can completely change the meaning of the entire document! Miss that one word, and you have cost both the client, and your company a great deal of money! So.. attention to detail, and the ability to focus, despite endless interruptions, and all of the other workday distractions that crop up regularly. The upside of this is that I basically can show up, start working on my pile of 'stuff', and continue on with it until it is time to pack up and go home. And nobody bothers me!



I work in a cubicle, which I realize most people absolutely hate but, strangely, I actually like my cubicle.. (I know.. it's sort of pathetic... but, nevertheless...)

My wife gave me a plant to bring in to work with me... which I did... and it brightens the place up quite a bit! Over time, I will probably bring in other little doo-dads that will serve to lessen that certain impersonal ambiance that most cubicles have... I just don't want to rush in to things... even carrying in a plant, and my 'magnet ring' (I have a ring shaped magnet that came out of a motor or something... I have used it over the years as a paper clip holder... don't ask...) made me feel as though I looked like I was 'moving in'... which is sort of weird.



In any case, I like this job. It is somewhat tedious.. but you have to stay on your toes, otherwise you may end up having a conversation that entails providing an explanation to someone in authority regarding the six million dollars that they are no longer able to count on... and I do not wish to be party to such a conversation.

My training... or something.... consisted of about 15 minutes of a loose explanation followed by the recounting of the most recent historical fuck-ups made by my predecessors... and then I was sent off to sink or swim.

I have no experience in this sort of thing whatsoever... but, so far I am managing to hold my own. I learn a great deal each day... and hopefully I will catch on in due time.

On other fronts, I sort of feel like "The Omega Monk" - as everyone in the local Sangha (monastic community) is off in New Mexico for an extended retreat. I am the stay behind who is responsible for the running and the upkeep of the Zen Center. Well.. one other person has recently returned, so I suppose that isn't the case any longer in the strictest sense... but, for now, it is sort of quiet. We have the occasional lay person who shows up, but for the most part it has been exceedingly quiet... which is actually kind of nice!

We have gotten hit with quite a few instances of health related issues amongst our various relations... which tends to raise the stress level and put a bit of a damper on things since we are worried about our loved ones. What makes this particularly difficult is that there isn't a blessed thing that we can do to help. So.. we simply wait to hear whatever news is forthcoming. My wife is on her way right now to visit her father who was admitted to the hospital last night... we don't really know the full significance of this... but I suppose we will know in due course. I'm not sure whether this is good or bad.

Life takes its twists and turns, and carries us along with it... so I suppose that all we can do is try to roll with it and make out as best we can...

Not the most comforting advice.. but, probably truthful.

It is very warm here today... and quite humid. We sat on our patio this morning, drinking our coffee and watching the new crop of fledgling sparrows hurling themselves about as they try to learn to fly and land and take off and do all the things they must be able to do to be a fully qualified sparrow. They were making us laugh! Some of the little con artists still try to beg food from their parents by fluttering and opening their mouths... sometimes they get food, and sometimes they get a cuff about the head.. but I suppose its worth the try!

Well... thats pretty much the update, as far as I am concerned. I have a couple hours of solitude, and then I'm off to work!

Sunday Morning Coffee

Eyes open.. beside me my wife dreams. I am warm under the covers... the room is still slightly dark, and a cool breeze is washing through the room. Casting aside the blanket, I get up and head for the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth.

I quietly make my way downstairs and put on my monastic vestments in silence.

As I step outside and close the door behind me, a mourning dove coos somewhere in the distance. The air is still cool and the grass and leaves are moist with dew. I can feel the cool breeze on my ankles and on my face and head.



As I make my way to the Zendo, the morning is brightening slightly... I hear birds singing in a cacophony of mixed calls; mocking birds, the twitter of sparrows, wrens with their 'tea kettle - tea kettle' calls... I can hear a woodpecker working away at the trunk of a tree, in search of some particularly plump and tasty morsel hidden within.. more doves, a lark, and over the top of it all the raucous screeching of jays and crows, competing to see whether they can drown one another out.



As I enter the Zendo, I bow in greeting to one of the other monks who is the Jikijitsu, or timekeeper for the time being (we change offices from time to time, each person having a chance to fill various offices. I am Shoji these past months; It is my job to prepare and serve tea to the monastic/lay practitioners during our formal tea ceremony, and to see to the welfare of each member. The Jikijitsu and Shoji together are the two disciplinarians of the Zendo; The 'Jiki' is the 'Father figure' - harsher and more strident in doling out corrections and in redressing those who breach temple etiquette, whereas, the Shoji is the gentler 'Mother figure' who assists, encourages, and gently but firmly insists upon compliance with temple rules of conduct and etiquette. This 'Yin/Yang' pairing has been used in Zen Temples for over a thousand years... molding and shaping the minds of seekers who follow the Zen path.

Without a word, we set about preparing for the morning sitting. Once everything was just as it should be, the Jiki went to his place in the Zendo and sat. As Shoji, I remained standing by the entrance to greet and direct latecomers.



At the appointed time, I lit a stick of incense, and quietly entered the Zendo, approaching the Jiki, and bowing, then, after ceremoniously presenting the stick of incense to him, bowing again and exiting the Zendo while Jiki began to open the formal portion of the sitting. As he did his bows and prostrations, I slowly tapped out the ritual patterns on the 'Han' - the wooden block drum that calls the monastic community to the Zendo for formal Zazen, or seated meditation.

We sat, and chanted, the occasional chime and gong marking a counterpoint to the constant beat that I drummed on the Mokugyo, or wooden fish. After the chanting ended, we quietly assumed the formal sitting position for our meditation.. the monks moving fluidly, and silently, wasting very little movement... and the three chimes tapped out on the Inkin, or hand chime marked the beginning of the first sitting. The room was absolutely silent; there is no moving, adjusting, or scratching permitted during the formal sitting period - this is where the rather harsh and austere monastic discipline takes over. As the time passes, legs go numb, or cramp.. backs ache, and itches worry away - daring one to try to quickly scratch them away.. This mirrors life, where difficulties crop up at regular intervals to try to throw us off of our track. This is a lesson in impermanence, where we learn to develop an accommodating heart that is capable of enduring these periodic difficulties without succumbing to aversion or distaste, or panic, or overblown reaction... just as everything else in the cosmos, the difficulties arise and then they fade... and we learn that we don't necessarily have to 'do' anything about them! And, so learning, we are freed from the hold that they have over us... at least for now!

After a period of Kinhin, or walking meditation, we began the second sitting period.. after which we set to our assigned tasks during the silent work period, which is also part of our daily practice.

After the Jikijitsu and I cleaned and restored to Zendo to its former neat appearance, we stepped out into the bright sunshine, bowed, and thus ended another morning practice.

As I walked through the gate to my cottage, the sun was just peeking over the trees, painting the landscape gold with its rays. The birds were in full swing now, and the flowers that had been closed tightly in sleep as I left, were opening their faces to the new day!

Time for Coffee and 'Sunday Baroque'!!



May all sentient beings be peaceful.
May all sentient beings be happy.
May all sentient beings be safe.
May all sentient beings awaken to the light of their true nature.
May all sentient beings be free.

Flotsam & Jetsam

Of late, I have sort of been feeling as though I am more or less getting blown around by the winds of fate... I can't say whether this is a good thing or a bad thing; or even whether a value judgment is even necessary... it is simply an observation.

I think it is a bit silly of me to randomly pick some period of time and decide that I feel this way during this particular timeframe when, in actuality, this is basically the way it is for all of us, all the time!

I am feeling that I am hurtling along, more or less out of control, while 'things' and 'events' just sort of take place around me... and me having only the most peripheral influence over things...

One day is blurring into the next.. and I am doing this thing in my brain where I focus on one small daily recurring event and it is like watching this one event happen over and over through a zoetrope.. where each day is one picture, and the stream of days makes them appear to be rushing by at blazing speed.... I tend to wake up at more or less the same time in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom.. I am generally muzzy, and sort of disoriented from sleepiness, and, in many cases, from having woken directly out of a dream, the shreds of which are still wisping around in my brain... well, it sometimes seems to me that the focus of my life narrows to this one event... getting up to pee... to the extent that my life becomes this recurring 'getting up to pee' activity, punctuated by tiny bits of 'other stuff'.

Of course.. in my waking life, this point of view vanishes and appears silly... but in the middle of the night, it seems to me that my life is just flashing by.. and that if I were to glance in the mirror, that I would actually be able to watch myself aging, and wasting away... as years fly by like clouds in a storm.. it saddens me in the middle of the night, when no one is available to me, and the night is deathly quiet, save for the squeak of the floor under my feet... and it occurs to me to wonder, as I am dropping back off to sleep, whether some guy, much like myself, in the year 1082CE or so, had these same, or similar, thoughts... and that guy, if he existed is now not even dust anymore... he is just gone.. just like I will be in what will seem at the time of my death to be no time at all. I know this, and I accept it... but, in the dead of night, it is sad, and gray, and drab, and depressing....

The same strange point of view is true of checking the mail, having my morning coffee, going to, and then returning from, work... and all of the other 'stations' of the day... they seem to expand, and all the other stuff seems to contract.

The result is that it seems that I spend 23 hours, 57 minutes, and 48 seconds doing not-shit BS, and 1 minute 10 seconds with my wife.. This isn't true, and I know this on an intellectual level.. but in my heart, I can feel the time shrieking past... and there isn't a damned thing that I can do about it.

I just know that I will wake up one morning and realize that I am a very old man.. with one foot in the grave, one foot on a banana peel, and everything of value in my life behind me...

But, then, I also think that this is probably true of all of us... one day this will happen.

On the surface of my brain, I attempt to siphon off every minuscule molecule of joy and appreciation from every single second of my life... and I think I am better at this than most... but, I turn around and the grass that I just mowed 'a few minutes ago' needs mowing again, the leftovers that I 'just put in the fridge' are a science project, and the furniture that I 'just dusted' has a layer of dust over it...

Summers, that used to be never-ending periods of warm, meandering days, and slow cricket and star-filled nights now blast past in a single three-month blip that doesn't allow me time to get out the suntan lotion. I consciously think, "It'll be summer in a month or so..." and the next observation is that the leaves have turned.

I don't want my life to fly by... I don't want this wonderful time with my gorgeous loving wife to spin out of my grasp... I don't want to watch myself wizen and shrivel and fade... but, I suppose I don't really have much of a choice in the matter.

I will resolve in my mind to slow down, to take time to enjoy things as they happen, and the next thing I know, I will be getting up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and it will feel as though I had just done this very same thing not two seconds ago...

We have to work, and we have to do all of those things that we have to do to keep the household running and everything in working order... and then, when we have the time to spend, we are so tired that we can barely keep our eyes open...

Every time one of us talks with a friend or family member, it is only to find out that someone else has died, has been diagnosed with cancer or some other hideous malady, or to be shocked to hear that the infant that we had just been informed was recently born is now graduating college.

When all that time flies by, I wonder where it goes?? I distinctly remember being six years old, and that couldn't have been more than a year or two ago... and a few minutes after that I was enlisting in the military, and then a second or two later, I was back home and 29 years old, and when I do the math, I am surprised and dismayed to learn that that was eighteen years ago!

My wife and I will celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary this coming September, and I honestly don't know where the time has gone...

So many things are happening, and so much of it has the potential to affect and to change everything in my life around.... and there isn't anything that I can do other than to simply accept it as it transpires. So this is what I do; I accept life as it presents itself to me. Often, I manage to find stillness at the center of things, and once I achieve this, I can generally maintain that stillness for some time.. until it slips away, and I am back in the maelstrom.

On top of all of it, I have a new boss that looks sort of like Danny Aiello, but with the most atrocious toupé that I have ever seen in my life. One day, a good while ago, he was getting up in the middle of the night to pee, and he was, perhaps, 47 years old or so... and now he is a fat old man, with a hideous rug on his head, in a more or less crappy dead-end job. I strongly doubt that he planned it out that way... but, nevertheless, that's how it turned out.

Even today; I got home from work, my wife walked in the door a few minutes after I did, and we had the whole night to look forward to together. We had a bite to eat, we sat down and wrote a letter to a friend of ours, and now it is almost 10PM and will soon be time for bed....

Is there a speed control on this thing??

I think that in the morning, rather than rolling over and burying my face in the pillow after that first brief encounter with consciousness and a new day, I will instead get up, and see what the morning has to offer...