Tale of Two Mirrors, Series One: The Second Mirror Speaks.

jpeg borrowed from this site:
http://whatthehealthmag.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/meditating.jpg
all rights to owner preserved.

Whenever you’re ready
To release all
tyranny of suffering
That is the second noble truth

Whenever you’re willing
To let go
of
past pains,and
Disappointments
That is the second noble truth

Whenever you understand
That
greed hatred ignorance
Sparks the fires
that
Ignites the furnace
Of Suffering
And its causes
That is the second noble truth.

Whenever you’ve had
Enough
Of trudging around
The eternal millstone
Of cyclic existence
and look for
a way off
That is the second noble truth.

Whenever you yearn
To step off
the trail of tears
and slip into
the forest
free
from the constraints
That set you upon
Such A destructive
course
That is the second noble truth.

Whenever you decide
To throw aside
the shackles
Of suffering
and its causes
That is the second noble truth.

OM MANI PADME HUM

retreat day two

So I didn't oversleep this morning. I woke up at six, happy and content, eager to start the day and fill it to capacity with Dharma practice.
What I didn't expect was getting a migraine.
It started out during my morning prostrations; those ziz zag lights going across my field of vision. I was upset. This was going to spoil everything. I'll end up spending the day in bed sleeping it off.

However, instead of stopping my morning wake up practice, I continued. Then I padded into the kitchen, took my meds, drank a large glass of water, turned off the lights and curled up in the recliner.

Instead of getting upset, calling the whole thing off, and letting the headache overtake me, I came to realize that this was an excellent opportunity to practice. After all, if the only time you can meditate is when you're happy and content, what use is it?

So I started with centering questions, awareness questions, and relaxing prayers. I located the culprit pretty quick, a muscle in the back of my neck was really tight. I massaged it and it helped.
Then I continued with Sutric questions, followed ritual taking of everyone's migraines, blessings to all who have migraines, then liberating my own migraine by by putting the head cauldron questions to work. At this point, I slipped off to sleep.

I slept for 3 hours. I feel slighly hung over, but the blindness is gone as well as the migraine. For which I am profoundly grateful.

The day is not lost by any means, simply delayed. I put my practice to good use, which helped immensely.

I'll be treating myself gently today, moving through the series of practices and studies in a relaxed and joyful manner. I wish I could prolong this retreat, but sadly it must end on Monday.

So here's whats on tap for today.
6AM Wake up practice and prostrations.
9 am Shastra reading: Heart Treasure of the Enlightened ones
Copy page from notes
Post blog report.
11: am Practice: Sunday's Mahamudra, Guru Yoga and Lama Praise
11:30-1:30 Streaming video of HH. The 14th Dalai Lama's lecture on the Four Noble Truths.

2:Pm Lunch
Shastra reading: Heart of Compassion transcribe Lama Jigme's latest Lesson.
3:00 pm sitting practice: Middling Three Cauldrons practice followed by walking practice
4:00PM tsa tsa painting practice and break
7:00 PM sitting practice: Essence of the 2 Tantric Stages
Shastra reading: Path to Enlightenment by HH. The Dalai Lama
8:00 - 11 pm Movies and various Sacred art practices. Beading, drawing, etc. If there's time or if JW goes to bed early I may continue watching HH lectures. It literally depends on how I feel by the end of the day.
May everyone benefit from this.
om mani padme hum.

Oh and BTW: you can find Lama Jigme's free practice texts on his site: http://www.lamajigme.com

Today's Practice

This is my average daily practice, unless like today and I overslept and missed the first watch!

Bad junior bird woman. And I'm on retreat no less!

I promise tomorrow I will do much better.
Anyway, this is how it lines out.

6 am wake up practice.

7 am Saturday's Mahamudra of Love and Emptiness

ll am Middling 3 Cauldron's practice. (I did this between the first and second hours of the 14th Dalai Lama's lecture. It combined nicely too I might add.)

3 pm Concise 3 Cauldrons practice and 30 minute walking meditation afterwards.
7 pm Advanced 3 Cauldron's Practice, which merged wonderfully well with the theme for today.

11 pm Sleep tantra. It works wonderfully well also. I used to suffer terribly from insomnia but these simple meditations put me out. And apparantly keep me out! lol. Tomorrow I focus on not being so lazy!

Everyone have a lovely evening
om mani padme hum

What could a personal retreat look like?

I'm in personal retreat until Monday.
I'll post then.
Until then
here's a sample of what this weekend adventure will bring :D

Good morning everyone.
Here's how my day will look if you're curious :D
am breakfast shastra reading
watch 2 hr streaming video of Dalai Lama teachings (the four noble truths is the name of the series)
practice@ 11, shastra reading
Break for lunch (soup and small salad)
transcribe Lama Jigme's latest lesson, study notes from other transcriptions
Copy pg from Heart treasure of the enlightened ones Notes page. (theres a treasure trove of information in there...not to be neglected...)
tsa tsa practice
3pm practice (shastra reading)
break
3:30 finish bedroom, sweep, dust and mop floors (yes, this can be a meditation prctice as well)
6 pm Dinner (beef soup)
7 pm practice
drawing thanka practice (portrait of Buddha, another meditation practice)
beadwork while watching the tube
bedtime @ ll pm. Prayers, and lights out.

om mani padme hum

Tale of the Two Mirrors, Series One

http://www.mentalhelp.net/images/root/bsp_A_Pathway.jpg


When you realize that
Everything pleasurable
Comes with the taint of suffering

This is the first noble truth.

When you reach the saturation point
And realize
That suffering is all around you
In you
And through you

This is the first noble truth

When the realization of hopes and dreams
Give way to the despair of disappointment

This is the first noble truth

When the scalding words of hatred and spite
Pierce your mind until your heart bleeds

This is the first noble truth

When family and friends fail you
And you are alone in your spiritual darkness

This is the first noble truth.

When you realize, right down to your bones,
That we all have walked a trail of tears
That we are walking it still…

This is the first noble truth.

Mind. A Poem

May my mind be a fortress;
Of iron and stone
Unfazed by scorn and stones
That falls like rain upon the moat
Of karma

May my mind be a lighthouse
Its beacon shining light upon
The rocks and shoals of
Hatred and ignorance

May my mind be the great mother
Who loves all beings as her
Children without exception

May my mind be a mule
Sturdy, wise, and surefooted
As it treads the path of
liberation

May my mind be clear
Translucent and pure as
Morning light shining through
Mist

May my mind be true
Ground upon which to stand
A ferry to transport others
To the shores of
The purest lands.

OM MANI PADME HUM

Turn it loose!

http://www.muza-chan.net/photo/galleries/asakusa/senso-ji-78.jpg






Let go of your preconceptions.
Turn them loose
like leaves picked in the forest
floor
and offered to the wind.

let go of your fears
turn them loose
the way you'd let go
of a rattlesnake
that you mistook for a stick.

let go of your anger
turn it loose
the way you'd drop
a hot coal you intend
to throw at someone.

let go of your beliefs
turn them loose
the way you'd drop a bottle
of poison
that you mistook for
medicine.

let go of judgment
turn it loose
pry free from the shackles
of condemnation and spite.

let go of your self
turn it loose
be free and at ease
in the empty space
between breaths.
Om mani padme hum.

Brought to you for your pleasure and discernment, compliments of the Buddha of Compassion and Patricia Snodgrass, Rime Manipa Tantrika and Junior Bird Woman.

Combatting the Devistating Effects of Guilt

Back in the 80's, when I sat in my afternoon nursing psychiatry class, the professor expounded on the topic of depression. Depression, she said, was anger turned toward one’s self.

Over the years I’ve thought about that and have decided that the prof’s quote wasn’t entirely correct. Although chronic depression is a devastating illness, it’s guilt that’s the real mind killer.

Guilt is the sword that we turn on ourselves. Guilt and its consort, regret. Guilt is the grasping of stinging nettles with the intent of punishing ourselves for something we could neither foresee nor avoid.

Oh, if I hadn’t gone to the movies that night, such and such wouldn’t have happened.
Oh if I had only been watching a little closer.
Oh, if I had only paid more attention.
Oh, if I were only, stronger, swifter, smarter, prettier, etc…

Guilt is clinging in one of its worst forms. It is having a white knuckled grip on an unfavorable incident in the past that you wish with all your heart you could go back and change, no matter how impossible it is. Guilt harms no one but us. Guilt is the ghost that makes us haunt the house in the dead of night. Guilt digs the grave of depression and regret shoves us in and covers us up.

Guilt is greedy. It fills our minds until it overflows, consumes our bodies and destroys us from within. It takes away our self esteem, our confidence, eradicates our reason, forces our minds to focus on the incident like a magnifying glass catching and intensifying the sun’s rays, and is just as destructive.

Guilt is ignorant. It neither knows nor cares that the situation in question could have been avoided, or that one could learn from the incident. All it cares about is grinding us down, inwardly vilifying us, and making us feel hopeless and useless.

Guilt is a liar. It tells us that we should be super human, should know better or do better or be better than is possible. Guilt makes us dig up the past, even before we are born into this incarnation and points a cruel finger at historical events and blames us even though we had nothing to do with it in our lifetimes.

But wait, you might say. Guilt is a good thing. Without it, we’ll be little more than criminals. Without guilt we’d lie, cheat, steal, kill and the rest of it.

No. Do not confuse guilt with depravity. Also don’t confuse guilt with the quasi religious need to serve deities or people because you feel it’s your duty to do so. Guilt is never a good reason to worship, and even less so to serve others….We worship with joy in our hearts because we want to, not because we feel guilty. We do not help others because it’s our honor bound duty to do so; we help others because it brings you joy and peace of mind knowing that what we did benefits all beings.

The truth is, we’re not gods. We are not omniscient, despite what guilt would try and tell us. We are not able to foresee every variable, every circumstance and avoid doom. We incapable, as humans, not because we’re pitiful sinful beings, but we’re simply human, with our limited intelligence and physical frailties, and the occasional lack of better judgment to avoid any and all unfavorable circumstances. But even so, we could do all the right things and still not avoid something disastrous from happening. Why? Because the ever changing variables of impermanence makes it impossible for us to outwit any given situation. Although guilt would make us try, in reality the only thing we’ll get out of it is a bad case of ulcers.

So, what is the antidote for guilt?
Letting it go: by, understanding that there are circumstances that simply cannot be avoided, and since the incident already happened, there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. Letting it go, forgiving ourselves of the mistakes that were made, making amends to those whom we’ve harmed and learning from the errors we made are the best antidote to overcome guilt. And when the feeling of guilt arises, we can let it go too, knowing that it is just an emotion, an illusion, like the shadows of monsters in a child’s closet. The child of the mind can be afraid of the illusion, but as spiritual adults know better. We can tell that what we are feeling isn’t a monster, but just clothes and boxes on the floor of our spiritual closets.

OM MANI PADME HUM

The Cadence of Practice; the Joy of Walking Meditation

The sky was blue. The air cool and sweet. Tsuki and I made our daily hike up and down the street. We live on a dead end road, and it’s exactly one tenth of a mile from the last house on the street to the yield sign on the opposite end. Ten laps equal two miles, respectively.

So we were walking, our shadows lengthening in the early autumn sun, enjoying our stride. I savored the pleasure the that came from the gentle sway of my hips, and she, her head low as her wolfy cousins do when they settle in for the long walk, our feet padding quietly upon the pavement as we went.

Somehow we were both hardwired to walk softly upon Mother Earth.

The cadence brought a meditative quality to the walk. Not quite a trance; more like hyper awareness.

First lap up
(what is this?)
First lap back
(Chenrezig)

Second lap up
What breathing?)
Second lap back
(Chenrezig)

Third lap up
(Chenrezig)
Third lap back
(Blessing all)

Fourth lap up
(This)
Fourth lap back
(all)

And so it went, up and down the street, the wind soft, the air dry and apple crisp. The beat and rhythm of the chant becomes synchronized with the cadence of the walk. The traffic on the street beyond faded into white noise, and then it was just Tsuki and me and the street, with the sun toying with my hoodie. Tsuki looked up and sniffed, her tail double curled, her mouth open in a big wide toothy grin.

And then

My mind is as clear as the sapphire sky above me, as bright as the sun shining through the trees.
I pick up the pace

Fifth lap
(what is this?)
(Chenrezig)

And the sixth

(Chenrezig)
(letting go)

And the seventh
(this)
(ease)

And time slowed to a crawl. Our pace quickened. Tsuki padded alongside me, and my thoughts as crisp and clean as the air, as free as the chevron of geese soaring high in the sky, my breath settling down into yogic ujai breathing, I continued.

The eighth
(Chenrezig)
(Blessing all)

And the ninth
(Chen)
(all)

And the tenth
(this)
(ease)

My breathing had synchronized along with the rhythm of footsteps, the dog marched at my heels, the chanting became one with everything else.

By this virtue may I quickly attain the enlightened
state of Chenrezig
and lead every living being without
exception to to that ground.

And then I found myself standing in front of the driveway to our little house. Tsuki tugged on the leash, eager to get back inside, and I too, feeling clear and clean and at ease, yearned for a glass of water and my recliner, my husband, and the smells of veggies cooking in the steamer.

It was a good day to be alive. A better day still to tuck a little Dharma in my life.
END OF LINE

the Perils of Verbal Proliferation

I was in the first grade in Oklahoma when we got the news.

I was sitting in the front row of a typical sixties Indian school (called Bushyhead Elementary), adjusting my new blue cat’s eye glasses (very classy in the sixties I might add) and struggling with a huge red pencil when the principal came into the classroom. Everyone put their pencils down and watched as the teacher, looking very pale (and even more so to me, since aside from my mom she was the only white woman I’d seen) ordered us all to line up. The buses were ready to take us home.

This was very strange since it wasn’t too long after lunch recess, and my best friends Donna and Pam and I discussed it as we climbed onto the bus.

“Kennedy is gonna drop the big one,” a fifth grader sitting behind us said.

“The big what?” I asked.

His eyes widened. “The A Bomb. He’s gonna blow Cuba right off the map! Kblam!!!” he shouted.

I didn’t believe it. The kid had told us tall tales before. But something was up, I was sure of that, because the buses never ran in the middle of the day, and my father, who’s old battered pickup was parked in front of the house as we arrived, was never ever home at this time.

Donna, Pam and I crept off the bus. It drove away, us standing in my drive way. My mother, hugely pregnant with my youngest brother, stepped onto the porch. She shooed us with her apron.
“You can’t play today girls. Donna you and your sister need to get home right away. Come inside, “ she added to me, and then, seeing her wide eyes, and flushed face, and stating that I needed to come in instead of riding bikes with my two best friends, knew without a doubt something was terribly wrong.

I went inside.

The only thing talking was the television. The President was on.

Later that night I had horrible dreams,of the world bursting into flames.

I got out of bed and went into the kitchen where my parents sat. The radio was on the table and the news was on. I climbed onto my father’s lap and asked “Daddy is the world coming to an end?”
“No,” he said fervently. “Nothing bad is gonna happen.”
My mother gave me a glass of milk and a cookie. I ate my snack in silence, listening to the man in the radio drone on, the soft quiet talk between my parents above my head.

I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

And it occurred to me just now that they were talking quietly in Cherokee.

Fortunately, my father was right. Nothing happened. Nothing that as a six year old child living in rural Oklahoma knew about anyway. It wasn’t until much later that I discovered how close we came to total annihilation.

And this is what I was thinking about when I received an unhappy email in my inbox earlier this afternoon, and I, as a self identified smart-ass, started writing a snappy reply.

Then I stopped. What I was doing fell under the harsh and foolish speech in my spiritual contract.

Then I asked myself. What good would it do to start a verbal arms race with this person?
The answer came in a flash.
Nothing.

It wouldn’t solve anything. The person in question would only get angrier, send me uglier emails, in which I too would get even angrier and respond in kind. And in the end, I’d be on the verge of shoving my fist into the monitor in rage.

And nothing would be solved. If I posted my snappy reply, the person in question wouldn’t have a forehead slapping v8 veggie juice moment and say, “Oh my God, she’s right! I’ve got to change everything I think now!

Tain’t gonna happen.

Instead, I thought about what the person in question said. The fact that this person posted on my public forum, and whom I have many friends of a multitude of faiths. Was it fair to them to see us engage in a war of words? No, it wouldn’t. There’d be people wanting to defend me, and others wanting to eviscerate me. The arms race would be on, and the only thing that would be perpetuated from such a thing would be fear, anger, and ignorance. And a ruined, once happy forum where nobody would want to talk for fear of reprisal.

So I didn’t respond. I deleted his comment from my forum, un friended him and moved on.

I was still irritated by what he said, and realized that I could not let these thought proliferate because if I did, I’d be right back to where I started.

And I didn’t want that.

So I took a walk in the cool autumn air. It was raining a bit, but felt it good and in the peace of the outdoors, I let go of my anger.
But wait, you could say, you let him win!
No. I didn’t.
By not responding, verbal missiles didn’t rain down upon us. By not responding, I saved the people on my forum suffering from having to put up with the drama, and most of all I spared the person in question the wrath of my razor sharp tongue. And I spared myself endless kalpas of suffering because I couldn’t let go of my egotism and move on.

And if he walks around proud as a peacock that he ran off a meek little Buddhist (of which I am not) let him. Who cares?

The only person he’s hurting by his behavior is himself.

As for myself. I’ll sleep tonight without giving it one single thought.
The verbal arms race ended without firing a single shot.
END OF LINE

The Joys of Impermanence

Here's our street, which is why I wont be running on it anytime soon.



More from our street.




These are pics of my front yard. The patio table is where I go to meditate.




Some teachers could tell you that impermanence is a terrible thing. After all, Impermanence, by it's very nature, suggests endings, destruction, loss. But impermanence has another side as well. It is the blessed relief that you experience after having a terrible bout of fever. Its the coming of spring after a harsh winter. It's the release a pregnant woman feels after a long exhausting labor.

But there are people who don't like looking at the good side of impermanence. It is more important (to them at least) to gaze full face into the dark side of impermanence. That dark side that states that everything that comes together must eventually be pulled apart. Like marriages, families, and friends. One's health, one's money, perhaps ones own mind.

You can go crazy looking too deep into that.

And I know of people who live in this state of mind all. the . time. He or she could recieve a million dollars, but, oh woe! They'd have to pay taxes on it, the children will squabble over it, they could get robbed, the enconomy could tank. And instead of enjoying their bounty and even sharing it with those less fortunate, they lock it up, sit on it, pack mattresses full of money, or bury it in mason jars out in the back yard during a full moon.

He or she could complain, yes, I have good health now, but oh woe! I'll be old soon. What if I break my hip, get cancer, lose my job to a younger person?

Such is impermanence. It's nothing to be afraid of. It's the nature of everything. And how you look upon it depends on how much you choose to suffer.

There are times, especially during times of trouble, that I find impermanence to be a comfort. Sure, something is going on right now that sucks, but so what? Impermanence, by its very nature is, after all...impermanent!


Just remember that whatever happens. It ain't gonna last. Everything ends.

Like rain, for example.

Sure, having days of nonstop rain sucks. Not being able to get out sucketh it as well. But I know, as I have said before, that this will not last. Above the dark and gray skies, the sun still shines above, and although I know too that the sun is impermanent, I can take comfort in knowing that I'll be long gone from this incarnation when the sun finally gets put out by the great candle snuffer in the sky.

And during some point in time, I'm going to look back on these chilly autumn days, when the roaring Texas heat finally returns, and bakes the ground so hard it swells and bursts like a scab, that dust devils scurry across a sunscorched parking lot while hot exhausted people hurry from the blessed coolness of the grocery store to the blessed coolness of their cars, when driving through the country on a sunblazed day with the sky so blue it hurts to look upon it, and rows and rows of corn looking like charred fists raised toward the sky, I will think upon this cool blessedly cool autumn day, and despite the fact that my yard is ankle deep in water, and the storm drains are full to capacity--so full in fact--that water is running over the road, and think, gosh, I wish it were cool and raining again.

And I will know too, that even blazing hot drought stricken summers are also impermanent. Everything, thanks to impermanence, can have a positive angle to it.

If you know where and how to look.
END OF LINE

The Pot and the Practice

Title scare you?
Relax, it’s just a pot of chili. Not a pot of something…illegal….

Let me tell ya, there’s nothing quite like a rich, thick, steaming, bowl of home made chili on a cold autumn’s day. Chili and sliced apples for dessert afterwards that is. And of course you can make a good vegetarian pot of chili if you’ve got a mind to, and have had enough dead animals on your plate. Or in your bowl, as is the case. But as long as I live with a carnivore, I’ll be eating meat, I guess.

I think it might actually be illegal in Texas to be a vegetarian. But I digress.

The key to making a good pot of chili comes with using the best ingredients, such as onions, freshly ground chili powder, real chili’s, lean meat, tomatoes, garlic and so on. But what really makes it good, is to let the first batch set overnight in the fridge, and then, around 10:30 or so in the morning, toss in a few more chili’s or powder, and let it simmer for about an hour and a half before serving.

The trouble with making a good rich, thick, steaming bowl of home made chili is in the care one must take to make sure the pot doesn’t boil over. Also the batch must be stirred otherwise the heavier ingredients collect on the bottom of the pot and scorches. And left unattended, there is the danger of fire.

And then you have a disaster. Not something you’d like to savor, especially not on a cold October day.

The same can be said about one’s daily practice. It’s always best to get the finest ingredients you can muster to make and savor your practice. You need, moderate preparation time, time to sit and time to let it cool down a bit before sampling, and hopefully without distraction.

And there always seems to be a distraction. At least for me. It never fails (as I blogged earlier) that the dogs want out just as I’m about to sit. Or the phone rings, and someone wants either to chat, kvetch, sell me something, or ask for a healing. (healings I do, all others must wait.)
or the IM light’s up or someone knocks on the door, wanting to sell something, to visit, to kvetch, for a healing, and odd infinitum.

And then there are internal distractions. Discomfort at sitting, needing to scratch an appendage (or other regions) Clothes are too tight, too loose, or aren’t hanging properly.

And then there’s the mind, with all its boiling, jumbling flotsam rising to the surface, making it difficult, if not impossible to concentrate.

Just as you wouldn’t want to leave a simmering pot unattended on the stove, you certainly don’t want to leave your practice unattended. But often we do. We let things get into the way, when it would be easier still to turn off the telephone, not answer the door, turn off the IM and sit still and practice.

And again, there’s those pesky thoughts.

One thought arises from the simmering mass of minutiae….you’re hungry, for instance. It’s best to let the thought go, let it settle back down into the kettle of your mind where it can simmer properly, but it doesn’t. You get out a proverbial spoon, taste the mental brew, then leave the practice to sneak a snack rather than risk starvation.

And because of that, the practice is spoiled. The mind overheated and the Dharma scorched in the bottom of the spiritual kettle and you’re left with a mess.

So it’s much better, at least I think so, to stay with the pot of our spiritual practice. To let everything simmer down to perfection, and then, afterwards, deal with the demands this life challenges us with. After all, most meditation practices are, on the average, about thirty minutes. Wouldn’t it be best to keep the world out for half an hour, to steal away some time for yourself, for the benefit of all beings, than to let life’s woes pound down the door, spoiling the taste of perfected spiritual practice?

Combatting the Imfamous What if? Monster

As promised last Monday, I will give you a brief rundown on how my adventure at the dentist went.
As you also know, I sheered off my left top molar, and thankfully there was enough left of it that the dentist didn’t have to do any spelunking to get the whole thing out.
But first, the prologue.

So, I sheered off a tooth. And my regular dentist was on vacation. Besides, I was flat broke until the 3rd so the dental follies had to wait until after the 3rd so I could get the damned thing yanked.

I had no idea where to go, so I got online and googled gentle (and I mean gentle) dentists in my area.

I’m a big weenie when it comes to pain. I don’t like it. I don’t want it. And it certainly doesn’t put you any closer to the path to enlightenment. Hence, my displeasure with aestheticism. But that’s another story.

Let us forge on. We must, after all, find the elusive and deadly what if? Monster and conquer him.

I couldn’t decide which dentist to go to. I called a list full and all of them charged pretty much the same price. You know what I mean. And arm, a leg, an ovary or testicle if you’re a guy.

So at this point I started dialoguing with Chenrezig, and He led me to one dentist that not only said was gentle, but had reviews. Good reviews. He is not only gentle, but funny.

Now that sounds like my kind of dentist!

I called. Sure enough he had an opening for the 5th. I scheduled. And so I waited.

I can’t say the pain was excruciating. It wasn’t. It was that low voltage Chinese water torture type of pain. More like irritating background noise. You know. Like when you’re working in your office and the florescent light above your head starts to go. It’ll flicker a bit and then the ballast will emit a high pitched whine, making it feel like you’re being covered in itching powder.

Um yeah. That kind of pain. The kind of pain that makes you turn into Cujo and you start mauling your co-workers.

So by the 4th, I was looking at JW’s pair of pliers and thinking…
Hmmm……

By now you’re thinking, is there a point to this or am I mentally jerking off?
No kavetch. There’s Dharma in here. I used it to combat the dreaded what if? Monster. But since I’m such a pain weenie, I had to enlist some help. First, from JW, and then from Lama.

We’ve talked about what if? Questions before. Those useless questions that are tagged by worry, or nonsensical thoughts…you see a lot of the aforementioned at the Yahoo answers forum. Nonsensical questions shot back and forth between the eternalists and nihilists (Buddha had a LOT to say about those guys) because their questions are like…what if God was a giant pink unicorn, would you worship him? What if you died and found yourself in hell would you believe in Jesus then?

You know, nonsensical questions of that nature.

Declutter your mind quickly and effectively of all those what if? Questions. You’ll be glad you did. I’m still working on mine, as you can tell.

On the morning of my great adventure with Dr. G. I was filled with what if? Questions. They start easily enough. What if I have pain? Well, duh, someone is going to yank a tooth out of your head. Of course it’s gonna hurt. I used the techniques of letting go to defeat these, but like rabbits the what if? Questions kept multiplying, until I was in full blown panic mode, ready to run down the street screaming.

The questions went from simple insidious little questions to huge monstrous fears. What if the dentist breaks off the tooth? What if he has to do surgery? What if he breaks my jaw? What if he gives me gas and I have an asthma attack in the chair and die?

What if? What if? What if?

So, that’s when I called Lama Jigme, and he kindly walked me through portions of the 3 Cauldron practice.

Afterwards, I was a much calmer junior bird woman.

By the time I got to the dentist office, however, I had a death grip on JW’s hand. The what if? Monster was back, but he wasn’t nearly as big as before. And I continued to ask sutric questions as well as worked through the last half of the cauldron practice right up until I got into the chair.

When the time came to sit in the chair, I opened up a dialogue with Chenrezig. When the assistant came and did the digital scan of my mouth, I was less afraid. By the time the Dr. G came in, I felt much calmer. The chair was actually quite comfortable. The Novocain was bliss, and Dr. G had me laughing so hard I didn’t need gas.

And the procedure?

No pain. Lots of pressure, but no pain. And I didn’t know when the tooth came out. I was actually surprised when he told me it was over.

And now the tooth is gone, the pain is minimal. I didn’t even need anything tonight. I’m eating regular food again and tomorrow I can resume my workouts.

The what if monster was nothing more than a shadow of my own instinctive fears. Once I saw that there was nothing to be afraid of, the fear vanished. And so did the what if? monster.
END OF LINE

Why ask Why?

Clench your fist. Do it now, and make it hard too. Hold on to it while you read this entry. And while you’re at it, think about something that someone said, or did that hurt you oh so many decades ago. Think about it hard. Observe your feelings, your thoughts. Think about it while you read.
I have a surprise for you.
And it’s so simple and so easy you won’t get it at first. But you will. I promise.
And the answer is found in six simple syllables.
That’s right.
Just six.
Still have a good grip? Is it slipping a bit? Tiring a little, perhaps? Are your fingers numb yet? Good. Keep grasping.
And while you’ve got a white knuckled grip on what’s going on inside your head (remember that memory I asked you to dig up?) think about this:

Long ago something happened to me. Something awful. Something I could neither comprehend nor avoid. For a long time I held onto this incident in my life, gripped tightly to it. At night I’d run it around in my head, over and over again. Why did this happen? Why?
I promise you that the people involved in this never spent one single solitary moment’s of sleep over it. I, however, suffered for decades, wondering, worrying, walking the house like a ghost in the night, unable to forgive or forget.
Always asking the why questions.

Are your fingers numb yet?

It wasn’t until quite a while later, after being cast adrift spiritually and physically that I found Lama Jigme and his teachings. I didn’t believe or trust the teachings at first, and why should I? I was just beginning to learn and to question things that I had kept a white knuckled grip on for over 40 years.

And then, one day, during practice (and believe me I practiced a lot before the epiphany struck home) I found the answer.

The key was in the asking of why.
Why did this happen?
Why did my parents let this happen?
Why did things work out the way they did?
Why?

Now, if you haven’t released your grip yet, do so now. Feel the blood rushing back into your fingers, the tingling of nerves ease. Feel the great sense of relief of having let go.

That’s how it feels to let go, physically, mentally and spiritually.

You can hold onto your anguish, your anger, your hatred. You can hate for years, maybe even decades, but what good will it do you? Eventually, Karma (like those sore tendons and muscles in your hand) kicks in and you have to release your grip. You have to, because no one can hold on forever.

The key that Buddha found when he let go oh so long ago is the same key we ourselves can use to give up our grasp on lifetimes of suffering.

And it’s so simple. Just six syllables will do it.
That and giving up on why questions.

What is the answer to why? There isn’t any. Not in the truest sense. Why do bad things happen? Why doesn’t God prevent it? Why doesn’t God love me enough to protect me? Why?

People spend their entire lives with a fist clenched in their chest, their minds eaten away by nonsensical why questions that cannot nor will ever be answered. The only thing you get with why questions is circular reasoning, going back to the incident over and over again, asking the same questions, treading the carpet of your soul threadbare and generates endless lifetimes of suffering.

Who wants that?

So, here’s how you take care of it. Here are the six syllables needed to conquer the circular reasonings of why.

Chenrezig
Letting go.

Or if you’re Christian try this:

Jesus Christ
Letting Go

And if you’re Pagan this works just as well:
Letting go
So be it

Gah, you say. It’s too easy. I’ve been through hell and back. You have no idea the torments this life has given me. Because of that I’ve got to go take a multitude of drugs, spend endless hours in therapy, gobble a bucketful of chicken and spend endless nights in front of the tv with Ben and Jerry. I’ve got to, mull it over and over and try affirmations and ask endless why questions before I can ever get my head straight on again.

Nope.
Don’t believe me?
Give it a try.
What could it hurt?
And if you still don’t’ believe me, contact Lama Jigme and schedule a phone conversation with him.

After all, he’s the one who taught me. And if I can do it, I promise you, anyone can.
What could you let go of, except that constant knot in your chest?

Like a Diamond in the Forest

‘I have found a Dharma like ambrosia
Deep, simple, uncompounded, radiant.
If I explain it no-one will understand.
So I shall stay here, silent in the forest.’
We don’t live far from Murfeesboro, Arkansas, site of Crater of Diamonds State Park. Murfeesboro boasts of having the only diamond mine in the United States. I myself have been there a number of times, digging in the plowed dirt looking, hoping to find a diamond to bring home.

I never did, although many have. In fact, this site has drawn the attention of several mining companies, who hope to dig deep into the crater and extract what tourists and local prospectors hope to find. Big chunks o’ diamond. Fortunately, they are forbidden to drill. And I’m glad.

There probably aren’t any huge chunks of diamonds. You’re not going to find anything the size of the Hope Diamond there, I’m sure. However, there are smaller pieces, if you have a good eye and know how and where to look. Or if you’re a lucky nine year old who picks one up without realizing what it was.

This past summer, however, someone came upon a startling discovery. And what made it even more surprising is that there’s no telling how many people walked past it without ever seeing it or even knowing what it was.

A brownish yellow diamond nestled in amongst some leaves hid in plain sight upon a hiking trail leading toward the mine.

Out of all the countless tourists and local folks who hiked up that trail, one person stopped, bent down, and picked it up.

Imagine the stir that caused. How many people walked by, not knowing that a precious gem was resting nearby, only to be found and picked up by a curious nine year old boy?

http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/news/localnews/stories/DN-diamondboy_25met.ART.North.Edition1.4d6d703.html


Now, flash backwards in time, 2500 years ago, in fact. A man is sitting quietly in the forest. He’s become profoundly enlightened. And yet, how many people walked by, not knowing, and not caring that he had the key to true happiness?

This is why the Buddha expounded:

‘I have found a Dharma like ambrosia
Deep, simple, uncompounded, radiant.
If I explain it no-one will understand.
So I shall stay here, silent in the forest.’


The tragic thing is that Buddha was probably right. Not only would most not understand, the vast majority would probably not even care. As someone told me a few days ago, “enlightenment is another word for blindness.”

How sad. She could not see the diamond sitting in the forest! But then again, most people who travel to Murfeesboro can’t see the diamonds in amongst the crystals and semi precious stones scattered in the rich volcanic soils.

If I explain it no one will understand.

It’s not that the Dharma is so difficult that it cannot be comprehended except by the most extraordinary of beings. Buddha himself said in the first quatrain that it is “deep, simple, uncompounded and radiant.” It, like the diamond resting on the forest floor, isn’t hard to understand, but it’s quite a surprise and quite unbelievable to those who come upon it. Who, after all, would think that a 2.75 carat diamond could be found in a field in Central Arkansas? It would seem like the most unlikely of places. And even in its simplicity, once you saw it could you recognize it?

Possibly. But it’s better still to take it to an expert to verify that it is indeed what you suspect it to be. There are, after all, a lot of false diamonds out there. Who would want to study the Dharma for years on end only to find that the diamond of Dharma they thought was of great value turned out to be nothing more than cheap cubic zirconium?

If. I. explain. It. No. One. Will. Understand.

Imagine Buddha’s elation when he attained enlightenment. Imagine still, the profound disappointment he must have felt when he realized that if he shared it, no one would understand. And even if they did, no one would believe him. Enlightenment, just ain’t supposed to be easy. It’s not supposed to be about inner peace and happiness brought about by helping your fellow beings. Its supposed to be about grunting and straining and eviscerating yourself over and over again, hoping to attain some kind of goal at the end of one's life.

Isn’t it?

So I shall stay here, silent in the forest.’

Buddha was so blissed out on the serene awareness he experienced he had no desire to let that bliss go. And he gave himself the perfect excuse not to. Even if I explain it, no one will understand. So like the diamond hidden in plain sight upon the forest floor, the Buddha decided to remain still, and silent. Imagine how many people must have passed him by, neither knowing nor caring how precious a teacher he was.

It wasn’t until Brahma and Indra came to him and asked him to turn the wheel of Dharma. They didn’t just ask; they begged.

Buddha needed to make himself known. Countless beings were in the throws of suffering and he had the answer. He just had to share!

Surely, someone would understand. Wouldn’t they? Wasn’t it at least, worth the risk?

So, Buddha did the first great thing. Do you know what that was? Can you guess?
It’s profound in its simplicity, and yet oh so many people don’t get it. Many teachers don’t expound on it.
And it, like the diamond the kid found and picked up off the ground, it’s there, right before our eyes.
And it was before Buddha’s too.
Do you know?
Can you see?
Think about these things. And I’ll get back to you.

It Ain't Rocket Science

“Upon attaining total and perfect Buddha hood upon the vajra seat our Teacher exclaimed,

‘I have found a Dharma like ambrosia
Deep, simple, uncompounded, radiant.
If I explain it no-one will understand.
So I shall stay here, silent in the forest.’

Accordingly, for seven weeks he did not teach, until Brahma and Indra begged him to turn the wheel of the Dharma.”
Words of my Perfect Teacher, pp 26-7.

Over the past several years, I have met a great many people who were confused by the Dharma and the Buddha’s teachings. Many believe that Buddhists are atheists and do not believe in a god at all, or think that Buddha is our god, or worse, think that Buddhism is some ancient, quaint philosophy based on platitudes and therefore has no real substance. Others feel that Buddhism is too complicated to understand and walk away, shaking their heads.
None of these things are true.

Let me first start off by saying that belief is another form of grasping. What you believe this moment might not be the same thing you believed twenty years ago, or will believe within a few minutes from now. For example, as a child, I believed pots of gold were found at the end of a rainbow. As a grown woman, I no longer believe that.

So let us dispense with belief. Your beliefs, like everything else, is always changing and not strong enough to hang your spiritual hat on.

But, you protest. I’m a Christian and I believe in Jesus. I have a personal relationship with him!

Mozeltov.

Now. You cannot believe in Jesus and have a personal relationship with him. You either believe (which is insubstantial at best) or you have a personal relationship which tells you quite clearly he exists and you speak to him on a regular basis.

Belief is an abstract concept at best. Knowing something right down to your bones is solid and sure and strong enough to hang your spiritual hat upon.

Buddha did not believe in gods. He knew a few of them personally, however. Brahma and Indra, as explained in the passage above, begged him to turn the wheel of dharma, which, thankfully, he did. What Buddha did say was that gods were entrapped in samsara just like everyone else and was unable to be of any help in escaping from cyclic existence. Which is why Brahma and Indra approached him, begging him to teach.

But this is academic and not worth much in the line of discussion. It is more important, I think, to examine closely this passage, and see precisely what so many others have missed.


‘I have found a Dharma like ambrosia
Deep, simple, uncompounded, radiant.’

I’ve met many teachers who love to hear themselves talk. Bless them, they’re good hearted and sincere, but, as we say in East Texas, “if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.” Which is what a lot of them do, and in doing this cause their students to either mimic the teachings not fully understanding what they mean, or causing others to walk away in disgust.

And the last thing I want to do is baffle anyone with bullshit.

And so much of the teachings that goes on these days is just that. Teachers talk endlessly about the Dharma, but what use is it to you if you can’t understand it?

So lets switch some words a round a bit, play with the passage and see what we can come up with.

The dharma is Like ambrosia (a sweet, precious substance, like nectar)
Deep (another word for profound)
Simple (easy to understand)
Uncompounded (uncomplicated)
Radiant (brilliant)

As we discussed yesterday, Buddha tortured himself with aestheticism for six long years and got nowhere in his practice. Then, when it hit him, like a V8 veggie juice moment. Ah, it’s so easy! So simple, so profound, so uncomplicated, that he almost missed it.

The dharma is profound, yes, but profound in its simplicity. Like agonizing over a math problem until you have that moment of sweet genius, that elated moment when everything clicks into place and you think, “that was so easy, why didn’t I see that before?”

The Dharma is simple. The Dharma isn’t rocket science. When broken down into its simplest components it’s very easy to understand. It’s the jargon that’s hard. And the jargon can be tossed quickly and effectively without changing the teachings one iota.

The Dharma is uncompounded. Jargon. It simply means uncomplicated.

Radiant: It’s mentally illuminating. Like walking into a dark house and switching on the light. Everyone has had that moment, again, of sweet genious, when everything falls into place, and you can’t imagine not seeing it before.

Think on these things. Mull it over. Write me and tell me what you think. Am I dazzling you with brilliance or baffling you with bullshit?

I’ll give you the other part of the quatrain tomorrow.
And now…lunch….

Faith as Thin as a Hair

(borrowed from flikrimage www.eyeonmyanmar.com/picturefrommyanmar. All rights reserved)




http://www.buddhistchannel.tv/index.php?id=18,8557,0,0,1,0


There is, in Myanmar (what my generation called Burma) a golden boulder dangling precariously on the edge of a cliff. According to Burmese legend, this boulder was put in place by a strand of Buddha’s hair. And the only one who could cause the strand to break is a menstruating woman, and thus, all women, despite their age, are forbidden to go up and have a gawk.

Why? Frak I don’t know. I never personally saw anything mystical or powerful about Auntie Flo’s visit. But be that as it may. The boulder is up there. You can even go to see it some time if you have a mind to (if you’re not a girl, that is). Me? Nah, I’ve seen rocks before.

Do I believe the story?

Belief is an awfully small thing to hang your hat on. And so I don’t, not any more at least. I do however entertain possibilities. I’m sure the atheist will say that there’s a scientific explanation, and no faith or belief in a deity is required. And I’m sure that some people will look up at it and say it’s a miracle. But I think (not believe, mind you. I can believe all day that I’m a racehorse, but it won’t make me win the Kentucky Derby) that there is a combination of conditions and causes that make that boulder stay in place. What I know for certain is that I am not traveling there any time soon to stand under it, because, I also understand the concept of impermanence, and there’s a mighty good chance that at some time in the future, perhaps today, or perhaps centuries from now, that bad boy is gonna come down. And preferably not on my head.

Especially while I’m still using it. My head, that is, not the rock.

Faith and belief have been on my mind a great deal lately, especially since Lama and I discussed this at length yesterday. But that’s not quite what I want to talk about today. I have no desire to kick the slats out from under you…today…later, maybe, but not today…

What I want to talk about is the concept that springs from faith and belief, and why I think that it, like the alleged hair that holds the golden boulder in place, is too flimsy to hang your hat on.

That concept is aestheticism.

Aestheticism isn’t necessarily a totally Buddhist concept. I know of very devout and very faithful Christians who starve themselves, calling it fasting and hoping to achieve some sort of allusive connection with God.
I never understood the concept of that, really. How can a grumbly belly get you closer to God?

Just like this, and other aesthetic practices found in Buddhism and elsewhere, I find it hard to comprehend why and how self inflicted suffering can get you any closer to enlightenment. Or to God, for that matter.

Even Buddha, who was a devout aesthetic for six years, dropped the practice when he found that it didn’t get him one step closer towards liberation. What it got him was sick and exhausted. But enlightened? Oh my children, no.

Buddha once heard a musician talking to his apprentice. “If you tighten the strings (to the lyre) too much, they’ll break. If they are too loose, it will not play.”

What an astounding revelation!

You don’t need to suffer to become enlightened! You neither have to starve, torture, or deprive yourself of much needed things like sleep, or food, for example, to sprint down the path to liberation. It’s oh so much easier than that. Oh so much, and once Buddha realized that, then his awakening was effortless.

And ours can be too. All we have to do is follow our teacher’s instructions and follow the middle path, without sleep deprivation, starvation or self inflicted suffering.

Besides, deep down, nobody likes self martyrdom.

END OF LINE

lowered expectations

Not too long ago, in a decade not too far away (okay it was 1987) I worked as a CNA in a local nursing home. After a day of class, squeezing in time to study plus living off of tankers of coffee and snicker's bars, I was expected to go to work and take care of 30 odd residents on my floor. And everyone wanted their baths at once.
And it was especially one sweet old lady, who held me in very high esteem. Far higher than I did myself, apparantly. This lady had to have her bath later on. She couldnt' be first even though she had deemed somehow that I was her 'favorite,' and 'perfect' (whatever perfect means) but I had to remain firm on the matter. I had dozens of other people, all clamoring to be taken care of first and no one to help me. So, despite how hard I tried to avoid it, this poor frazzled, exhausted and poorly nourished nursing student had to explain to them all, and to Lady X most of all, that they'd have to take turns.
Oh the wailing and gnashing of false teeth that occured on that day!
My firm but polite, no, caused Lady X to burst into tears, declared she'd rather be filthy than to let me touch her, and threw her lampshade at me.
So went my fall from grace in her eyes.
And I came to learn, after many years of and with varying degrees of falling from grace, that I am not super Buddha Woman. I'm simply an ordinary being, with hopes and fears and loves and desires, just like everyone else.
The only real difference between me and others is that I've learnd how to put all this stuff onto the path of liberation.
I could be light years from Buddhahood, or I could be as close as the next class with Lama. Either way, it's all good.

And now...a story...
two senior ladies was standing outside of the nursing home smoking. It was, of course, raining that day and they were standing under the awning. One lady took a condom out of her pocket, snipped off the end and put her camel cigarette into it, lit up and enjoyed her smoke. The other lady watched, amazed and asked her why she did that.
-To keep my cigarette dry, her companion replied.
So the next day the lady goes to a pharmacy and asks for a box of condoms, to wit, the pharmacist faints dead away.
--What happened to him? asked the pharmacy assistant.
--I have no idea, the lady replied. --All I wanted was a condom big enough to fit over a camel.
So the thing with expectations about others, placing them high on a pedastel is that at some point, the pedastel will either tip over or crack. Either way, its not a firm enough foundation to place a mere mortal upon.
So who or what should we hold in high esteem?
Ah, children, that's for later. And with far fewer typos. Sorry kids, blame it on the prescription strength ibuprophen. I have :D
END OF LINE.

The Dentist Follies part one :D

The tooth is out
the novacaine has worn off.
JW is off in search for something
gentle for me to eat and to fill
my pain script.
I have oh so much to talk about
in regards to this experience and
the dharma, but it'll have to wait
for a little while.
But I didn't want you to think
dear constant readers
that I'd abandoned you.
So I'll post more later on,
hopefully tonight.
So stay tuned.
But before I go I want to thank
Lama Jigme for being so wonderfully
kind as to practice with me before
I scurried off to the dentist.
And to Dr. Gibson who is without a doubt
the kindest, most compassionate, and
gentlest dentist I'd ever been to.
And funny. Did I say funny???
END OF LINE

I don’t pay much heed to my dreams. I hardly remember them any more. Dreams, as far as I’m concerned, are little more than the your brain entertaining itself while in defrag mode.

Which makes me wonder what my PC dreams about during its defrag cycle.

But that’s beside the point. This morning I want to talk about endings…and beginnings…

Early this morning I had a dream that stuck with me. Not only did it stick with me, and I spent the better part of half an hour contemplating it after I woke, because this dream came with a message. The message, I’m sure was lurking around in the back of my mind for some time now, but the dream I had caused it to rise to the surface.

So here’s the dream. Make of it what you will.

I was walking through a large pasture filled with rice seedlings. (Yes, we do grow rice here) and high on a ridge was a ramshackle house. I walked up to it and there was my former BFF, with her father and some relatives of hers. She didn’t say much, although her father talked at length about a great many things, none of which made any sense. All I knew was that I didn’t need to be there. But instead of walking out of the house, which probably would have been the most sensible thing, I walked to the back of the house where an elevator door opened. The elevator was beautiful, glistening gold and red. There was a young woman in it who told me it was out of order but I could go through the little door instead.

And sure enough there was a little red and gold gilded door next to the elevator, small and ornate, like something from Alice in Wonderland. I opened it up and went inside. How did I fit? Frak I don’t know, it was, after all, a dream.

I entered a beautiful banquet hall filled with laughing happy people. My husband and son were there, and everyone was happy to see me. The tables were impeccably done and sitting on a dais on a high throne was a lama whose face I could not see.

That’s when I woke, thinking, I’ve left one friendship behind in search of something better.

And instead of feeling great sadness at the ending of a friendship, I felt happy and content knowing that something much better was heading my way.

In the Heart of Compassion I read this:

In bad company the three poisons grow stronger
Listening, reflection and meditation decline
And loving-kindness and compassion vanish
To avoid unsuitable friends
Is the practice of the bodhisattva

It occurred to me then that your friends don’t have to be criminals or addicts or bad people at all to cause the three poisons (greed, hatred, delusion) to flourish. They could be quite ordinary beings who simply don’t follow or understand and could never understand your desire to advance upon the path of enlightenment, to follow Buddha’s and Chenrezig’s teachings and become true bodhisattvas. It’s not their fault, nor is it yours. It is simple impermanence. And for the sake of your practice, it is best to bless these folks, love them and walk away.

Which is what I have done as of today.

Am I angry with my former BFF? Am I resentful? No not in the least. I still love her, but on a kinder, compassionate level. I’m sure we’ll see each other again and we’ll talk, and I’ll be cordial, but I realize after experiencing the dream and knowing that it means that I’m on a path towards something ordinary friendship cannot offer. And that our paths have finally parted. She has moved on with ordinary mundane things and I’ve moved upwards into a realm that she, bless her, can’t understand. (This isn’t arrogance speaking, she’s already told me so.)

Such is the way of impermanence. We often see impermanence as bad, but more often than not it’s a blessing in disguise. At first I was afraid I’d miss her, her warmth, her friendship, her humor. But I came to realize after talking to JW about it some weeks before that those things had already dissipated, and I was hanging onto the friendship more out of habit than anything else.

And so now is the time to let go. To love, and yet, still let go.

Such is the way of the Bodhisattva. And the path of the bodhisattva is what I strive for each and every day.

END OF LINE

The trials of finding a spirtual friend

By this virtue may I quickly
Attain the enlightened state
Of Lama Chenrezig
And then lead every living being
Without exception to that ground.

Perhaps the biggest difficulty I had when I started my dharmic journey wasn’t for the lack ofqualified teachers. I found plenty of them. The difficulty arose in many forms, in which you are about to see. I don’t disparage any of these teachers, indeed, many were kind and gentle, but not too forthcoming with the dharma.

You see, there’s a criteria that I put together before hand on how to find a qualified teacher. However, if I had read the sutra of the Kalamma’s Delimma I would have found out that the Buddha himself expounded on these qualities centuries before.

Sure, you can stumble, grunt, sweat, strain, and in essence, work like a three dollar mule toward enlightenment on your own. But the easiest and best way to do it (although you’ll still have to grunt and strain a little bit) is to find a spiritual teacher. And thus, with this nugget of wisdom I set off on my journey.

During the two year trek I met a number of teachers, both good and not so much. I met a wonderful lama, who I was assured was totally realized and could lead me to enlightenment.
There was, one small problem.
1. He was in India
2. He didn’t speak a word of English.
So, since time is short and intelligence limited, I found I had neither time nor the patience needed to learn a whole new language before I could even speak to this lama. Besides, distance was a factor. Sure in ancient times those who wished to become immersed in Dharma traveled countless miles, in harsh environments, usually on the back of a yak to receive a lama’s blessings and empowerments. But this is the 21st century, and I’m lazy and had no desire to travel all the way to India with my husband in tow to learn from someone I couldn’t understand.

So. I moved on. I went to a few websites and met a few more teachers. Some of them were very popular and had students galore. Some even had monestaries, abbies and dharma centers of their own and taught lots of students. The problem with this is that they are all worthy teachers, but I didn’t want to be a simple face in the crowd, noever hopeing to ever speak to one of these lamas much less learn anything of value from him or her, because, frankly I could have simply picked up one of their multitudes of books and extracted some knowledge that way. But I didn’t want that. I wanted much more than that. Call me selfish, but I wanted more from someone on a one on one basis, not just do an occiassional monthly chat or try and drive 200 hundred miles to the nearest dhama center and sit and listen without ever getting the opportunity to actually sit down with the lama and ask questions.

Further, learning from some of these people was like learning from the kind Tibetan Lama who didn’t speak a word of English. True, these people did indeed speak English but what they taught was so far over my head that I couldn’t figure out what the frak what they were saying.

I have a Master’s Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies; my major being English. And the only thing I could think of while listening was the old Texas adage, “If you can’t dazzle ‘em with brilliance, baffle ‘em with bullshit.’

So you could imagine how quickly I got up and walked away.

And then there were those who were so enamored with their own qualifications, and by who taught them that what dharma they knew was squeezed out through their egos, or they will happily answer your questions. The problem is you have to be a member of their ‘exclusive’ sangha in order to get the answer.

At this point, I was disgusted and ready to give up. I asked Kwan Yin, my patron Bodhisattva, to find me a teacher. So four years ago, I performed a small ceremony front of my altar. I wrote a list of qualifications necessary for a teacher. I asked Kwan Yin to find this person for me, then I took the piece of parchment outside and let the breeze carry it away.

And three days later, the teacher arrived. He is everything that I asked for. Lama Jigme is truly a spiritual friend. He teaches his students on a one on one basis, he never talks over my head. And he’s always there for me. I hope that when it comes time for me to teach, (I am, after all still a junior bird-woman) that I can be just as good an instructor as he is.

And if Lama Jigme has that piece of parchment, I’m going to faint.
END OF LINE

‘Remembering this may my mind turn toward Buddha’s Dharma.
Om mani padme hum’

My heart is a vessel filled with Dharma
It rests upon the unstable surface of ego
When ego is jostled
The vessel tilts
And all the Dharma spills out.

Yesterday I was sitting outside, sky gazing, waiting for JW to come home, my heart filled with happy peace, my mind filled with dharma.

Then someone came along and kicked the emotional slats out from under me.

And no matter how hard I tried (and in retrospect I didn’t try all that hard) my ire stayed at Defcon 1. Instead of using Lama’s methods of love and letting go (which I did try on a superficial level) I found my mind returning over and over again to the one comment said under the person’s breath, but I heard anyway. By the end of the day I developed a tremendous martyr complex, which resulted in my screaming at people and stomping and thundering, much like the storm raging outside.

I should never let the thoughts proliferate. Because as soon as I did, the “who can get more pissed off arms race” was on.

It’s easy to brush off something a stranger says to you, especially if that comment was cruel or just plain stupid. It’s easier still to roll your eyes at some internet troll who is simply out to yank your chain. Its’ a different story, however, when someone you love says something awful to you. And more difficult still, to rid yourself of the afflictive emotions that arise from such a comment. You seem to want to grasp onto them harder.

Freedom from this can be done, but it ain’t easy. Sadly, I took the lesser path, proving point blank that I am still oh so far from the goal of enlightenment.
The only good thing that arose from this the knowledge that I have lots more work to do when it comes to Dharma.

• I learned that I still have a colossal ego.

• I learned ego is one of the most unstable surfaces to base your Dharma practice, or anything else for that matter, on.

• I learned that I hadn’t yet tamed this ego and I need to get a whip and chair after it.

• I learned that although I have the tools necessary to love and let go, I didn’t use them properly. I found it easier to invoke my ire at the cruel and provocative statement, letting thoughts and emotions proliferate, not unlike the USSR vs. The US during the cold war, and were fully prepared to invoke my wrath upon the person who angered me with all the poisonous emotions in my arsenal.

Thankfully I did not do that.

My father once said jokingly that I have a temper like a nuclear warhead. First there’s the flash, the firestorm, and finally the fallout that lasts for centuries.

I’ve spent the vast majority of my life trying to defuse my mental A-bomb. Lama Jigme showed me how to do it, even gave me spiritual blueprints and the tools necessary for the disarming.

And yes. It’s always the red wire.

Yet the spiritual armature around all that mental nuclear waste leaked. It wasn’t Lama’s fault that it didn’t work. It was mine. I am the one who left the tools in the shop and decided to disarm my bad temper on my own.

The only thing it gave me was a martyr complex and a strong desire to kick the dog and scream at my husband.

Instead I put the feelings on to the path,(properly and mindfully this time) then, once free from the anguish of afflictive emotions; (and feeling oh so much better, you have NO idea) I sat back and studied the situation.

Harsh speech hurts. Sure, it’s not like getting physically beaten or stabbed or shot, but the emotional pain is there. Sometimes, if you grasp onto it, that pain can last for years, or even a lifetime. Or possibly even longer. And then look at what all that suffering has cost you, in time, effort, and therapy.

Some people are great swordsmen when it comes to their tongues. They know just when to jab and slice and parry. And these people known they cause harm and don’t care. Words are, in fact their primary weapon and don’t hesitate to use them to slice you up inside.

But then there are those, for some reason or another, say things on the spur of the moment that seem harmless on the surface, and yet they cause great harm.

And then there are those thought words that form in your own mind; those terrible things you say to yourself that you wouldn’t dare dream of saying to another person.

All of these things create negative karma; especially when the hurt is ourselves directing it at us. Imagine the negative karmic footprint you place on your own psyche whenever you say or think to yourself, ‘oh I screwed up. I’m so stupid. I’m not worth anything.’ And so on.

His Holiness once said that using harsh and angry speech was like putting excrement in your mouth. Not a pleasant visualization, for sure, but one, I’m sure, will stay with me. Especially whenever I direct harsh speech towards myself.

Am I still mad at the person who hurt my feelings?
No.
Am I over it?
Yes, of course.
I used Lama’s methods of love and letting go…properly this time, and made sure they stuck. I hope this essay has helped you in some way as well.
Have a beautiful weekend.
END OF LINE.

‘Neither getting nor keeping the desired, as well as enduring the disliked is universal…’

The sky is gray.
As Tsuki and I made our daily trek down the street, the air thick with moisture pumped up by the gulf during the night, I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was going to start raining again. And soon. By the end of the day, at least.

Last month we were ‘blessed’ (ahem) with 12.95 inches of rain. And with all that rain, certain creatures that are usually happy to stay outdoors are seeking refuge inside my house.

A squirrel, for example, has taken refuge inside my attic. I see him scurrying up the pine tree beside the house, here he jumps from the higher limbs onto the roof, and then goes inside through a vent. He stops, turns, and shakes his fuzzy ass at me every morning before scurrying up the tree.

I’m contemplating buying an air gun and popping him in the butt with it.

I don’t mind the squirrel too much, as long as other forms of rodentia find their way inside. I don’t mind the spiders and the odd moth that finds its way inside. I capture them and put them back out, usually in one of the canna gardens.

This morning, however, I discovered a roach.

Yes.
A.Roach.

Can I get an ewww!!!

It was scurrying across the table next to my chair. Without thinking, I reached up, grabbed my copy of Heart Treasure and was about to smack it good when JW said, “Wait, you aren’t supposed to be hurting anything, and especially NOT with Dilgo Khentse.”

I stopped, the roach flipped me off and scurried underneath the table where I lost track of it.

JW of course, had a valid point. I’m not supposed to hurt anything. Especially not with the Venerable Dilgo.

But it’s a roach for Goddess sake!

Can I get another ewww??????

So what is a junior Bird Woman to do?

I could catch it and put it outside, but then it’ll tell all its buggy friends and I’ll have the damned things partying in my walls.

If I kill it, I could possibly be doing it a favor. After all, who wants to spend their existence as a cockroach? Could I be aiding it in exhausting its negative karma by putting it out of my misery?

But then again, I did say I would not harm anything. It’s part of the set of vows I recite every day, three times a day. If I cause harm then I invalidate my vows, but then again…

It’s a frakking roach!!!

Why am I ethically standing on the stool over this?

After all, how many roaches do you know that are enlightened?

So, here’s what I’m going to do. For good or ill, I’m not sure, but something has to be done, otherwise JW and I will be inundated with these things. And that’s simply not acceptable.

I’m putting out poison. I just don’t see any choice in the matter. Yes, I said I wouldn’t harm anything, but…ugh….

They are, of course, under no obligation to eat it, but if they do, then oh well….

And I’ll apologize and say Potala prayers for each and every one that kicks it.

END OF LINE.