Family

Me and Markee

Most of the time on my blog, when I talk about a sister, it's usually Norma Jean. But the truth is, I have two other sisters I rarely see and so they aren't as much a part of my life as she is. Norma Jean and I grew up together, and the three youngest siblings weren't even born before I got married and left home. Well, my brother Buz was born when I was sixteen, but as anybody who has teenagers know, I didn't pay much attention to family; my social life revolved around kids my own age. Family was peripheral. I was a self-centered juvenile most of the time.

But that was then. My brother and two youngest sisters were only in my life when I visited my parents, or if I was between marriages and taking refuge in their home. That was actually the only time, really, when I got to know my youngest siblings. While I was busy with my own life, my career, or outdoor activities, they were busy growing up. Markee married Bob, a Canadian, and moved to Alberta, Canada, decades ago, where they bought a lovely ranch and raised three children. Now those kids are all grown, and their daughter Sarah was married in a beautiful ceremony in August. I wanted to attend, but there were no Americans present because of the pandemic and still-closed border. 

Now that the border is open, Bob and Markee bought themselves a camper-type vehicle and hit the road. They are traveling eventually to Florida, where they will spend the winter in their condo in Apollo Beach. It's about an hour's drive south of Norma Jean, so fortunately it's been well looked after by her and Norma Jean's son Peter. They have used it as a second home during the two years that it's been vacant. All that is about to change, now that the missing family can get there for the winter months. They will be snowbirds, traveling between Canada and Florida, which was their original intent when they bought it. They were only there for a few months before they had to return to Canada because of the pandemic. And now we can travel between countries once again.

Markee's name is actually Mary Katherine, but when she was growing up she was always called by her nickname within the family. Her husband Bob doesn't call her that, as I was reminded when he'd address her by that unfamiliar (to me) name. They came through Bellingham for us to have a nice lunch together before they took off for Texas. Driving diagonally across the country on their way to Florida, in order to visit family. I was so happy to spend more than three hours with them before they took off. They will be with my brother Buz and sister Fia and all their extended family for Thanksgiving.

We spent much of our time together looking at photos of the wedding, a huge affair with 175 guests and with a very professional photographic essay of the entire event. You know how they do it, starting with the bride and her entourage getting dressed and following through the day's proceedings. Now Sarah and her husband are happily married and living in their newly purchased home.

It was so lovely to catch up with her and Bob after so many years without much contact at all. We realized that the last time I saw Markee was at our sister PJ's memorial service in February 2014. And now Markee has turned sixty, my baby sister has grown up to become a senior citizen! Since I was already a mother when she was born, I don't like to think how old I have become. My birthday is in a couple of weeks, when I will enter my eightieth year (and turn 79). How quickly those years passed!

I am the only one of the six of us who doesn't have children (living ones, that is). Norma Jean had two, Peter and Allison, with two grandchildren. My brother Buz has one grown daughter, Trish, who has not had any children. Markee has three, as I mentioned, two twin boys (who are no longer boys), and Sarah. PJ had two sons, one of whom managed to have two sets of twins. PJ was so proud of her beautiful grandchildren. And last of all, my sister Fia, who had two children, a boy and a girl, both of whom are married and have given her lots of grandchildren.

When people ask me about my two sons, both of whom have died, I always say I have no living children. I was only 22 when my son Stephen died, and a matron of sixty when my son Chris died. No grandchildren for me, and that makes me sad. But it's through no fault of my own that I am the only one without them. That doesn't mean I don't have plenty of family, though, as you can see. My parents, who are also both gone, would be proud of the accomplishment of their children and grandchildren. As am I. 

Family. I married SG when we were both fifty, and now that is more than a quarter of a century ago. The time does indeed fly when you're having fun, an adventurous life, and a career. I have been retired now for thirteen years, and after having moved from Boulder, Colorado, to Bellingham, Washington, I have still been having fun, a good life, with lots of friends with whom I enjoy nature's wonders in the Pacific Northwest. And there was that quarter of a century I spent jumping out of perfectly good airplanes. So much of my life is now in the past, but I have enjoyed every bit of it, the bad and the good, the ups and downs, and am now settling into a more relaxed and serene existence. 

Part of what I have started is a journey into discovery of mindfulness and meditation. Although my dear partner has developed an illness that may become problematic, we have good healthcare and for now he is doing just fine. He's under a good doctor's care, one he trusts, and he's learned that he will not need to undergo any further treatment, other than keeping an eye on his blood count and keeping himself from getting an infection. Fortunately for us, everywhere we go we are masked, and that will continue for the foreseeable future. I venture out much more than he does, and we are both triple-vaxxed and have received our flu shots.

There are no guarantees that we will be in such good shape in the future, since everything changes and moves on, forward into time. There is little I would change about my life, and I count my blessings at every moment. I am filled with gratitude for having had such a wonderful life. And there's my virtual family: YOU! I enjoy reading about your own adventures and lifestyles, and I glean information and joy through you as well. Who could ask for much more?

One's family is the most important thing in life. I look at it this way: One of these days I'll be over in a hospital somewhere with four walls around me. And the only people who'll be with me will be my family. —Robert Byrd

While many of my dear virtual family will probably not be in that hospital with me, I'll have my laptop and we can Zoom together. These days, there is no excuse for not being surrounded by family and friends, since much of our lives has become available for anybody who wants to share it. I am so grateful for the internet, and for being able to "visit" you whenever we wish. 

And with that, dear friends, I've finished my tea, my post, and my ruminations. Now it's time to get out of bed and spend some time following my breath before heading out into the world. Another day without rain is a good one. The rain returns tomorrow, but it's nothing like the deluge we endured earlier. And my dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me as I get out of bed before the sun rises. 

I'm sending you all my best wishes for a good week ahead, our Thanksgiving week here in the US, and I'll be enjoying a quiet meal with just one other person: guess who? Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.

Rain and more rain

Fallen leaves

We are in the midst of a strong "Pineapple Express," or an atmospheric river that comes to the Pacific Northwest in the form of warm rain that dumps massive amounts of precipitation in our area. Right now, after having had several days of rain, we are supposed to get another four to five inches over the next two days. And it is warm: it is as warm outside before dawn today as it usually ever gets in our area at this time of the year. However, once this system moves through, the temperature will plummet and we'll get a good frost. 

But that is not what I wanted to talk about today. After carefully checking that I am in the correct blog for my Sunday post, I pondered what is on my mind and would make a good post. I came up with a phrase that resonates deeply with me: lovingkindness. The word originates from two sources: (1) an English translation of Chesed, a term found in the Hebrew Bible, and (2) an English translation of Mettā or maitrī, a term used in Buddhism. The Dalai Lama said it best when he reminded us to "Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible."

What we all have in common is an appreciation of kindness and compassion; all the religions have this. Love. We all lean towards love. —Richard Gere 

When I am feeling good and healthy, it's easy for me to feel lovingkindness towards others, but when I am grumpy or nursing a sore back, for example, it becomes much harder. Perhaps that is what I am trying to find in life these days: a way to be in a state where I can rise above it all and become a permanently compassionate person. Hmmm. There seems to be a disconnect here. Life doesn't work like that, at least not in my experience. It is easy for me to love those who already love me or that I see as good, but it's much harder when I come up against someone or something that really disgusts me.

But I also have to be kind to Yours Truly, and forgive myself for the shortcomings I see in myself every day. I guess it all boils down to my need to get away from my ego consciousness and learn to be more cosmic in my outlook. Sounds easy, but it's not at all. Every time I think I have "risen above" some small imperfection in my spiritual journey, it comes back in another form entirely. Take, for example, my need to give money to homeless people who are begging me for relief from their situation. I feel for them and reach into my pocket for a few dollars and then walk away feeling magnanimous. What have I actually done for them? Nothing. But I have given myself permission to feel virtuous for my generosity. Hmmm. 

I ran across a phrase that won't let me go: idiot compassion. For compassion to be effective, we need to discover if our actions are going to be of real help and value or if they may actually be supporting an already unhealthy situation. According to a blog I discovered, 

Developing lovingkindness and feeling compassion toward our fellow humans is one thing, while putting it into action is another matter. Without even trying, we cause suffering: we hurt ourselves, we hurt each other, we ignore each other's pain and create further pain. How do we stay open and loving in the midst of insult or conflict? Our caring and compassion are tested and challenged in every moment, every time we are tempted to ignore but choose to stay open instead. (Ed and Deb Shapiro)

 Now this doesn't mean I will stop giving money to homeless people, but it does make me aware of the actual reason I do it. The number of people in the world today who are desperate is growing. I can barely force myself to watch the news these days, with so many wars and displaced people suffering so much. Was the world really like this fifty years ago and I was just not aware of it? Or has it become much worse? I can't remember seeing homeless people wandering the streets like today. It does make me sad and I fight against a sense of hopelessness.

So I sit quietly in my living room a few minutes a day to calm myself and follow my breath. I also write this blog, hoping for inspiration and that I might be able to give at least one other person a little bit of optimism. That comes from my desire, a true one, to provide love and caring to others. The most effective way I have discovered, so far, is to be kind to myself and forgive those who don't see things my way. I am old enough to be looking out my eyes from a spirit that wants to change from despair to lovingkindness. Adding benefit to the world around me, rather than making things worse: that's my goal.

That said, I also must remember to give thanks for all that I have: a warm and dry place to live; a partner who loves me and whom I love very much; the ability to walk and play outside with good rain gear; friends and family who support me in ways I don't even know; enough nourishing food to eat every day. So very many people in the world don't have even one of those things I take for granted. 

I will leave you with a favorite Buddhist mantra:  Om Mani Padme Hum. Known as the Compassion Mantra, or the Jewel in the Lotus, this is a powerful Buddhist prayer. This mantra is a tool to train the mind to achieve ultimate peace and enjoyment. The mind dictates our experience of happiness and sadness, so we must learn to control our mind.

I would like to remind you to be kind to yourself, as well as others. This is something I am working on these days. Until we meet again next week, dear friends of my heart, I wish you all good things. Be well.

After the storm

From  the Seeing Bellingham Group

I found this picture on my new favorite Facebook group, and although I neglected to note the photographer, I simply couldn't resist sharing this optimistic and beautiful picture with you. It was taken last Thursday, when Mel and I walked in the rain during the morning, and I got home soaked and a bit miserable from all the rain. As I sat down in my easy chair to compose my last post, the rain lessened, and then I looked outside as the sun was going down and saw everything lighted up, just as in this picture, although I didn't have a rainbow to enjoy. 

I'm continually inspired by nature, and the rainbow is one of nature's greatest optical phenomenons. The sighting of a rainbow never fails to bring a smile to people's faces. They signify optimism and positivity: with them comes the sunshine after the rain. —Matthew Williamson

Our walks lately have all been wet. The onset of normal fall precipitation seems to be going a bit crazy lately. The weather people are blaming it on La Niña, a phenomenon that will bring wetter and colder weather to us in the coming months. It's a lot easier for me to appreciate wet conditions when I am dressed for it. Unfortunately, I've been resisting, believing that the rain will stop before it does, and not realizing that I've got to be wearing more effective rain gear. 

Yesterday we walked twice around Lake Padden, one of our favorite places to go when we might not want to venture far because of the weather. Once around is 2.6 miles, and the rain was predicted to begin around 11:00am. So I wore a rain-resistant jacket and stuffed my raincoat into my backpack. A light rain started almost immediately at 9:00am, and I believed it would stop soon, so I didn't put on my raincoat. At least not until I was completely soaked through and had gotten a little bit grumpy. In any event, we did make two complete turns around the lake, which did help my mood a little, and I came home and changed into nice dry clothes.

We gained an hour of sleep last night, but of course I awoke at my usual time, and there was nothing for it except to get up, make my tea and start this post. So I think it will be posted sooner than it usually is, and I can get out to the coffee shop earlier than I normally would. It's not the same without John there, so I toyed with the idea of taking the bus instead of driving, but it is supposed to rain again today. Never mind: I'll drive.

I'm realizing that it won't be that many more years that I will want to drive my car anywhere. Now that it will be DARK so early in the evening, I'll take the bus most places, or let someone else drive (like Mel in her lovely SUV). I'm not sure if the macular degeneration I've been dealing with for years is the reason, but I seem to be losing my depth perception. That's not good for driving. Full sunlight sure helps, but as we venture into the late fall and winter months, there's not much of it around. Fortunately for me, I can walk or take the bus just about everywhere I need to go, thanks to the great bus system we have here in Bellingham.

I'm still meditating every morning, and the peacefulness and joy that I experience much of the time is spreading out from that short period of following my breath into more and more of my day. It is a little amazing to me to think that learning more about Tibetan Buddhism would have such a profound effect in my life. Just yesterday I got a new Kindle book from David Michie about the Dalai Lama's Cat (this one is called Awaken the Kitten Within), the fifth in the series about HHC (His Holiness' Cat), and it deals with her life as she begins her senior years. I've only just begun the story, but everyone who has already read it gives it a great review.

I had just finished re-reading the fourth story in the series about the Dalai Lama's Cat and the Four Paws of Spiritual Success. The characters in the stories all come to life in Michie's writings, and anybody who loves a cat will appreciate learning all about HHC's life. What surprises me is how much I am enjoying reading these books more than once, and rather astounded at how much more I glean from them about Buddhism with each reading. I feel like I've found a treasure trove of books to keep me grounded and peaceful. David Michie has found a new admirer (me), and I intend to study Buddhist philosophy for a long time to come.

Although to some people it wouldn't seem like a blessing, I think it truly was for me to be raised in a family that had no evident church upbringing. My father was an agnostic, and my mother was raised a Catholic. When she married a nonbeliever, she stopped going to church and we, her children, never ventured inside one until we became old enough to do so on our own. When I was in my early teens, I discovered Episcopalianism and began to attend a local church, and before long my siblings had joined me. I was so enchanted with the liturgy I would read the Book of Common Prayer all day long and thought about becoming a nun. 

That didn't last long, but my life was changed because I was no longer without a faith, and it stood me in good stead for many years. When I was a young woman, I began to study different religions and was drawn to Buddhism even then. Living in Boulder, Colorado, I was able to learn a lot about it, since Boulder has the only accredited Buddhist university in America. Well, back then it was anyway; I'm not sure about today. Since there were so many local avenues to learn more about it, I took advantage of classes open to the public, and I learned to meditate as well.

For many years, I meditated morning and night, and somehow it fell away without my noticing. But I wonder, since I have picked it up again, whether all those years had changed my mental processes somehow, because every morning I do feel like I've come home to a place that never left. All I know for sure is that I feel more centered and willing to see compassion and loving kindness in neglected places surrounding me.

I ran across an article not long ago that theorizes that much of the empathy that we feel is due to a genetic trait, rather than learned. You can read more about it in this article from Medical News Daily, which suggests that many of us are more empathetic because of our genes.

Some people are more empathetic than others, and the new study revealed that a significant part of how empathetic we are is down to genetics. In fact, 10 percent of the variation in empathy between people is due to genes, according to the research.

Well, I must have been born with plenty of that gene, because I tend to feel other people's pain and joy more than most, and I am happy that is the case. Of course, it makes it really hard when someone I love is hurting, but I'd rather feel bad for them than not to care at all. How about you? 

Well, here I am with an extra hour to spare, and I think I might actually spend a little more of it in meditation than I usually do. Why not? And then it will be time to head to the coffee shop, my usual routine, to quaff my usual latte. Maybe I'll be able to get a quick walk in later, in between raindrops. It's just not the same at the coffee shop without John around, so I don't spend nearly as much of my time there without him. Of course, there are other people to interact with, before coming back home. 

I do hope you will have a wonderful Sunday, no matter where in the world you are, I am so grateful for your presence in my life. My dear partner just turned over and is still sleeping quietly, but I am beginning to feel the pull to get out of bed and start the rest of my day. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things. 

One week later

Whatcom Falls after lots of rain

After last week's embarrassing fiasco, losing my post and trying unsuccessfully to recover it, I've checked to make sure I am in the right place as I begin this morning's writing. Not that I have any confidence that whatever pours out of my noggin will be interesting, but here goes.

Yesterday Mel and I walked to Whatcom Falls Park and saw the most amazing roaring water coming over the falls. You could hear it a long ways away, with all the rain we got during the last two days: almost three inches. Then the skies cleared and it got cold enough yesterday for me to have to scrape ice off my car before heading out. Bundled up against the cold, we had a lovely walk and I captured this picture. I was sort of amazed when I studied it closely to discover there is a man photographing the falls from above. Do you see him? That is a very dangerous place to be, and a few people have lost their lives by slipping right there and being carried to the rocks below.

You can see that our fall colors are still around, but beginning to fade as we pass the halfway mark from fall into the winter months. The long-range forecast is for lots of wet and cold weather ahead, with La Niña making an appearance this year. But for us, it's a relatively mild winter anyway: most of the snow should stay in the High Country and spare us. Although I well remember a winter when we got as much snow as we expected in Colorado, it was still short-lived in comparison.

We'll see. In any event, I am happy to have a warm and cozy apartment to live in as we move through the seasons. I have finally grown accustomed to the 20% hike in rent, and I guess almost half of it will be covered by the increase in our Social Security. It's the only bright spot in the economy for me right now: we will get a 5.9% increase for 2022. Everything has become so much more expensive, and I suspect it's the same for our landlords, so I am reconciled to it. It's no different anywhere else in the region, so where could I move to avoid it?

It's Halloween, the last day of the month of October. It's been a good transition month around here, with the rain returning and the days shorter and colder. Soon we will return to Daylight Standard Time, and it will be very dark around here about the time people get off work. Fortunately I am retired and won't venture out much in the evenings. I've also got a head lamp that I use to see my path ahead in the dark, which I need right now in the mornings as I walk to the bus.

I got a call from John yesterday. He had the massive shoulder surgery accomplished last Thursday, and he's in quite a lot of pain right now and is sleeping a lot, eating very little, and just trying to get through these first few weeks. He says he didn't remember last year's surgery on the other shoulder being so painful, and I can only imagine what it must be like. The doctor said the surgery went well, but that the right shoulder was worse than the other one, so it makes sense that the rebuild was more extensive. His left shoulder no longer hurts and he has full mobility in it, so he's hoping that it will be the same in a few months. We sure miss him at the coffee shop. Everyone sends their best wishes for a speedy recovery.

I am still meditating every morning after I exercise for ten minutes on the front porch. This time right now is when I would normally be getting out of bed and starting my day, but Sundays are different because I write this post. Since there is no reason to rush to the coffee shop, with John not there, I'm going to add the meditation time after exercise, just as if it were any other morning. Hopefully it will help me get used to a regular time to meditation every day.

Mindfulness helps you go home to the present. And every time you go there and recognize a condition of happiness that you have, happiness comes. —Thich Nhat Hanh

It's interesting how much it has helped me with the stress of daily life. That, and I am definitely watching much less news than I once did. After all, I can learn everything that is going on within a short time on my favorite news channel and the internet; everything else is just commentary and repeat information. Sometimes I wonder if the news is designed to raise my anxiety level and make me worry more. That would be counterproductive for me, since worry is one of those aspects of thinking I don't need more of. I love to spend my time reading other people's blogs and sticking to books that are uplifting, rather than listening to more doom and gloom.

Plus it's that time of year when everybody seems to concentrate on scary stuff, and I don't find that good for me, or anyone at all. But everyone gets to live their own life; I won't try to fix them, or the universe, for all the good that would do. Trying to find peace, contentment and happiness in my own life is enough of a project for me.

And there are so many aspects of my life that I am grateful for. SG has had a bone marrow extract and a CT scan to try to discover the source of his low blood counts, but so far nothing seems especially scary. He's got no symptoms of lymphoma, which is what the doctor suspects, but from what I've read about it, he either has a very mild case or it's something else. He trusts his doctor and doesn't return for another visit for a few weeks, so in the meantime we are being hopeful that all will turn out well. Of course, this business of getting older means that we are all susceptible at some point to illness. 

Buddha's Five Remembrances help me to remember all this. Do you know them? Now that I am studying Buddhism, I remembered learning these five remembrances long ago. Maybe I should tape them to my bathroom mirror so I won't forget them.

1. I am of the nature to grow old; there is no way to escape growing old.
2. I am of the nature to have ill health; there is no way to escape having ill health.
3. I am of the nature to die; there is no way to escape death.
4. All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
5. My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.

In some ways, this reminder is helpful to keep me grounded in truth and giving me plenty of reasons to give thanks for every day that I am alive and remain a healthy old woman. And every morning in my meditation, I end with a prayer that all living beings will one day be free from disease, pain, and suffering, that we will all eventually attain enlightenment.

Although I only sit for fifteen to twenty minutes, at the end of that time I am really surprised at how centered and grounded I feel. Just following my breath and keeping myself focused on the moment, letting any thoughts that come up pass through, like clouds passing by. And I find myself, after only a short few months of this, craving those moments of peace. That I can find anywhere at any time, if I just go within. I recommend giving it a try. You don't have anything to lose, and much to gain. But then again, everyone has a different path to wholeness. Forest bathing is one direction I love to go in my quest for serenity. 

And you know what? I've managed to finish this post and have every confidence that this week I will be able to publish it without any glitches. It was a good lesson last week to pay attention to what I'm doing and stay out of ruts. I do hope you will have a wonderful week ahead, and that all good things will come your way. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, breathing so quietly that I cannot hear him, but I know he's there. And life will continue to bring us all chances to spread joy and happiness to others. I wish you all the best. Be well until we meet again next week.

I can't believe I did that

Stoney Ridge Farm

 I completed by Sunday post and then inadvertently posted it on my other blog, and when I deleted it from that one, I could not get it back to post it here.

So, here I am with egg on my face, nothing to post, and I think I really need a cup of coffee. I'm sorry!!!

Local Aurora Borealis

Kyle Stitt captured this last Monday

Five days ago, we who live in the Pacific Northwest, were treated to a display of the Northern Lights, also known as the Aurora Borealis. I found this picture on Facebook's group, Seeing Bellingham. We had clear skies that night, and of course I was fast asleep but read about it the next morning and learned about the spectacle after the fact.

The Aurora Borealis is caused by the interaction between the sun and the earth’s atmosphere, according to the National Weather Service. Electrically charged particles called ions are emitted from the sun and move outward in a stream of plasma, which is called the solar wind. When the plasma comes into contact with the earth’s magnetic field, some ions become trapped and interact with the earth’s atmosphere. This causes them to glow, which is the same principle that makes a neon sign light up (king5.com).

 It made the local news, and I heard about it at the coffee shop the next morning, but I myself have never seen such a display. People who live in Alaska see them all the time, but it's quite rare to happen around here, at Bellingham's 48.75° latitude.

Since that time, most nights have been overcast and we've gotten quite a lot of rain, nothing to see here. It also went from very cold to almost balmy in comparison. We do get our fair share of weather events, but so far we have not had a freeze. I feel very fortunate to have retired in such a place, with mostly mild temperatures year round, and lots of green forests that thrive in this environment.

*  *  *

On my other blog, I posted a few pictures of the injury to my left eye socket, and now, more than a week later, the bruising is almost all gone, except for the area underneath the eye, which is very much better but still rather strange looking, for an old woman to have such a bruise. It is pretty much covered up by my mask, so unless I'm drinking my coffee, it's covered and no one notices.

One thing about being elderly, I also realize that not many people look my way for any length of time. It's true what they say about becoming invisible when you get to a certain age. When I was a young woman, I turned heads and remember how much I enjoyed the attention. Now that it's gone, I don't really mind. Every phase of life has its benefits and disadvantages. 

I have recently begun a daily meditation practice, remembering once again all those years when I sat twice a day, many decades ago. I lived in Boulder, Colorado, back then, and there was a very active Buddhist community, with plenty of places to attend meditation practice. I can still remember coming home from work and being so glad to be able to relax on my meditation cushion for a half hour or so. It made all the difference in my busy life. 

One thing that I find curious is how easily I have slipped into it once again. Apparently, the mental processes I developed at that time are still here. I used a mantra in those days, and I might do that once again, but for now I am watching my breath, counting them to 10 and starting over. At first I just sat and allowed the time to pass, thinking that 15 or 20 minutes would be difficult, but a couple of times I didn't stop then and lost track of time. So now I use a timer, with a dainty chime when the time is over.

Although it's only been a couple of weeks, I can already feel that I am drawn to the gentle quiet that takes over my mind when I point it in one direction. It also keeps me from stressing too much over the state of the world, especially my own country and its challenges. Although I am still reading several newspapers every day, on my laptop I can choose what I read and can stay away from those that upset me too much. My equanimity is closer to the surface with meditation part of my daily life.

The time I've found to sit is early in the morning, after I've done the Five Tibetan Rites that have become an essential part of my day since July 2013. Then I pull out my meditation stool and settle in for a session. The only day when this doesn't work for me is on Sundays, because I am busy writing this post, and I need to wait until after I return from my trip to the coffee shop. This will be the third Sunday since I began meditating that I will need to find another time to sit. 

In a couple of weeks, my schedule will change from what has become my usual routine of taking the bus to the coffee shop, then having my friend John drop me off at the Cornwall Rose Garden and walking home. He will be having his right shoulder rebuilt, and he'll be unable to drive or do much at all for several weeks. Last year at this time he had his left shoulder done, and it's been so successful that he's gone ahead and scheduled the other one. This will be harder because it's his dominant arm, but I fully expect he will recover. By then we'll be even closer to the end of the pandemic. (I hope.) But who knows what the future holds? The only time we really have is the present moment.

We recently learned that our rent will increase by more than 20% in the coming year. At first I was really dismayed, but then I realized that the reason the owner can do that is because there is no place to move that is less expensive. I suppose his costs have increased as well as ours, and I wish him well. We will deal with it, since in May my annuities increased enough that for these few months I haven't had to worry about budgeting. That changes when my excess "wealth" will go into his pocket. Just like everything else, our lives continue on with the trials and tribulations that we all face. I am just grateful that I can actually scrape it together. And that I continue to have a roof over my head, enough good food to eat, and health care if I should need it.

That puts me in a situation that the majority of the world does not enjoy. My heart breaks for the homeless I see every day on my city streets. Pushing a cart loaded with everything they own, they walk in the rain with plastic sheets covering their belongings, sometimes wrapped in plastic themselves. Old and young, men and women, down on their luck in a society that has no room for them. I suppose there have always been people like this in America, but I sure don't remember such poverty when I was growing up. But then again, there were not so many of us grasping to find a hold in a world of diminishing resources.

Nope, I'm not going to go there. In just writing that short paragraph, I could feel myself being pulled towards disheartenment, and that helps no one, least of all those homeless people. What happened in their lives for this to be their misfortune?

I have been learning about the Buddhist concept of reincarnation. I really don't know how I feel about it, since none of us knows at all what happens to our consciousness after death, but the idea that our mindstream continues after all else dissipates is a fascinating concept to me. There is so much I will never know, but it makes as much sense as any other that I've encountered. There is no doubt that enlightened beings have powers that make no sense to my rational mind, so who's to say that our essential being does or doesn't continue on in another form? I am fascinated by it all. 

In any event, I have accomplished what I set out to do when I woke this morning: write another Eye on the Edge post. Now it's time to get out of bed and continue my day's activities. I must give thanks for the wonderful ability I have to communicate with you, my dear readers, and to have my dear partner still sleep quietly next to me, and to begin yet another day with the abundance with which I am blessed. Later today I will read your blogs and whatever comments you leave here. You have become an essential part of my life, too, and I wish you all good things, today and tomorrow. Until we meet again next week, be well, dear friends.

Days of change ahead

Neighborhood decorations

Walking to the bus last week, I noticed this house decorated up for the season. I especially like the Frankenstein creature in the doorway and wondered how people feel having to enter past his scary demeanor. This family also does a great job for the Christmas holidays, too. I have a few friends who love the Halloween season, and since I do, too, I'll be keeping my eye out for other decorative additions to the neighborhood.

From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us! —Scottish Saying

Although never having been much of a partygoer in my youth, I still really enjoyed getting dressed up for Halloween and wearing my costume to work. One year I was Dolly Parton (and had the perfect wig for it), another I was Harpo Marx, and I tooted a horn to answer anybody who wanted to talk to me. Another year I was Kermit the Frog. Thinking about all those fun costumes and days long past, it reminds me that I did enjoy becoming another personality now and then. It's been many years since I did all that, having left work behind me, and today the last day of the month of October is fun to observe and enjoy dressing up vicariously.

If you read my other blog, you know that last Thursday I tripped and fell, face planting and hitting the left side of my face on the gravel in the trail. As usual, it was right at the beginning of the hike, so my friend Melanie helped me up and insisted I be seen at the urgent care clinic. I hit right on the eyebrow and my glasses were scratched and flew off my face. The swelling was immediate, along with quite a bit of pain. At first I couldn't see out of my eye, but it was because of all the tearing and a bit of blood from the wound. At the clinic, I was told that they couldn't examine me, since everyone over the age of 65 with a head injury must go to the Emergency Room and get a CT scan.

There was no way I was going to subject myself to hours of waiting in a Covid-heavy environment, so instead I went home and decided to take it easy for the rest of the day. Other than quite an impressive black eye, I have had no other symptoms, meaning that an internal bleed is not likely. It's been three days now, and the swelling is almost all gone, leaving me with one half of a Halloween disguise. It can be covered up with my sunglasses and barely noticeable if you're not looking for it.

Yesterday I went for a five-mile walk with my friend Melanie, as usual on a Saturday morning, and there was no difference from my normal walk. If I don't look in the mirror, I forget that I'm injured. It's becoming all too familiar for me to keep taking these falls, which I guess isn't all that unusual as I get older, but it's important to get back up and keep going for as long as I can. I took a Zoom yoga class on Friday and noticed that I can do all the postures without anything more than my usual difficulty, but I chose not to attempt the shoulderstand, an inverted posture and felt it might be a bit early for that. I could do it today without any worries, though.

What I have been enjoying very much is beginning a meditation practice. It all started with me reading David Michie's series on The Dalai Lama's Cat. The book is a multi-layered treatise on the practical aspects of Buddhist teachings cloaked in the delightful tale of a cat. I have also read several other books by Michie, some nonfiction, and other novels of his with Buddhist teachings interspersed inside a good suspense story. It's funny how something can change the trajectory of one's life with just a tiny push from an unexpected source.

Years ago, I meditated daily, and it's very interesting to notice how much of the earlier experience is still present in my consciousness. Insights keep coming up after just a few minutes of mindful breathing, those I learned long ago. When I concentrate on my breath, I seem to have rediscovered a forgotten resource towards serenity. Since I am just at the beginning of this journey, I'll keep you updated as to how it develops. In any event, I am feeling much more centered and calm about the state of the world. Nothing has changed externally, but I am feeling better and have found myself actually waking up with a smile on my face. How great is that?

One thing that occurs to me on a regular basis is that our days are filled with the possibility of positive change at any moment. Just as it was a lightning-quick change in trajectory when I face planted, positive change can come just as quickly. A particularly insightful book, a chance comment from a friend, numerous interactions with our loved ones: there are so many ways for us to find a new direction in our lives, if we just allow ourselves to be open. I'd like to be fertile ground for affirmative change to come in and make my life better. 

And it's happening, as I allow it. One affirmation I make is to be as kind as possible to others I encounter in my daily life. Being kind is a choice I make every day, and I choose to find other ways to allow kindness to all others spread out from my center into the whole world. Starting small, growing larger and larger in scope as I feel it emanate from within. Can you feel it? I am sending waves of happiness and joy your way.

I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy. —Rabindranath Tagore

My tea is gone, and I will spend a few minutes following my breath before getting on with the rest of my day. My dear partner sleeps quietly next to me, the day ahead beckons and is filled with possibilities. I do hope that life will bring you some delight today, and I hope that you will be open to receiving it. Until we meet again next week, dear friends, I wish you all good things.