Me and the Dalai Lama

I noticed tonight that His Holiness, the Dalai Lama is in my circle of friends on some kind of Google social network. This comes as quite a surprise. Apparently he has been sending me a message now and then, for my benefit and improvement, no doubt. I'll have to start reading them.

Wonder if he drinks coffee - is he a Decaf man?  No way. Wonder what his friends call him... Dalai??

Warm that up for you, hon? How about a muffin? I have a few questions I'd like to discuss with you.

Light Falling Fast

You can start out cussin' and pulling crab grass and damning whatever makes them grow right in your own garden where you don't want them, and it's just too hot and sweaty to do it until after dinner when you are too tired. 

But then you might notice the wind comes up, and you are standing out there in almost gray fast falling and the sky is gray too but still bright. If you can unbend your aching back, that wind will blow right on through you on its way to clanging the wind chimes and clearing out all that you had imagined wrong with the day that is nearly gone and making you want to hold onto it for just a few minutes more. The weeding forgotten.

Out of Country, Not Out of Mind

January 25, I left home at 4:30 a.m. and deposited my husband at the Jacksonville airport. We kissed goodbye, and that's the last time I will see him until March 8. (2 and 1/2 weeks ago: 3 and 1/2 weeks to go). Yikes! Whose idea was this? 

G-man is taking a trip to Guatemala to celebrate his recent retirement, to have an adventure, learn something, hang out with his buddy, and possibly do some good work. I remember saying, several times, that I was happy that he was going to give himself this time and, "No" I didn't want to go. 

So, he flew away, and I spent the first day, busy with activities but anxious to know that he had arrived safely and found his way to his destination. When a brief, tired e-mail came late that night, I was so relieved that I laughed out loud, realizing to what extent I had been worried about him.

I have spent a great deal of time on my own in my life. I was divorced for 10-plus years before I met G., and not too unhappily. G-man was a surprise to me... that we met and married when I was almost 50, and that we have been able to make a relationship between two independent people that works. We are not only happy, we love each other.  I've traveled away from him from time to time, but not for six weeks!

It's not a question of whether I can make it on my own, of course I can. It's not a question of whether I am willing for him to go alone, yes, I am. The question is: am I going to like it?  Maybe, not so much.

I am busy with a lot of activities each day, but as those wind down, I find myself wondering how much longer it will be before he calls (through Skype). I miss him, and when I see his face, however blurry, on my computer screen, I feel intensely how much I do miss him.

I've learned some things about marriage over our 14 years (duh, who wouldn't).  First that it can last. I had to work up some trust in that area as my marriage track record indicated otherwise. 

Healthy independence has been a favorable factor in our marriage, especially since that goes along with another kind of trust, that which lets the other go freely in the world. We are together and stay together because that is what we each want. 

I wanted G. to have this time to explore on his own a place that he loves. I wanted him to kick up his heels a bit to shake off the shackles of a job that weighed him down these past few years. I wanted him to have fun with his buddy from San Francisco. (I knew G. still harbored his inner hippie from those days - he is now growing a mustache and goatee!!)

I know he will come home, and that he misses me.

While all of this is true, especially that I will weather this separation, I also know that my life, however independent, is better when G. is around - that is, within hugging distance. 

This is the bottom line on my good marriage. I can be separated for six weeks, but I'm not going to like it.

Saving Mr. Banks

Last night, G-man and I saw the movie "Saving Mr. Banks" at our local beach theater. Nice to say they have installed a new, digital projection system for our increased viewing pleasure. 
   We loved the movie. I even cried a little - very touching. The movie had so much more to it, than we expected. It had a great cast and good acting, not the least of which was Emma Thompson, one of my favorites. We exited the movie holding hands, our hearts warmed sufficiently for a January night.
    I carried the good feeling home and then I made my mistake. I looked up P.L. Travers on the Internet; she being the author of Mary Poppins and the subject of the movie. 
     Has this ever happened to you? You really admire and enjoy an author; painter, musician, or other artist, then you read up on them and find out things you don't want to know. Such was the case with P.L. Travers. She comes across as quite a character in the movie and even more so in her real life.
      The mistake is to assume that the author is the same as his or her work, and that you will like them just as much. I won't go into what I read about this author. It's not that bad, and you may not care to know.
     The point is that the artist is a human being with a full range of foibles and gold stars, AND he or she has the amazing talent to create something whose worth stands alone. Mary Poppins, the books and the Disney movie, are no less delightful because P.L. Travers is not, herself, Mary Poppins or Emma Thompson. Nor should we expect her to be. 
    Sometimes, I forget this. I think it happens even more often when we confuse actors with the roles they play. After all, Robert Young, was not a real doctor, even if he did play one on TV, but he sure sold a lot of life insurance or over-the-counter, whatever it was that he was endorsing. We believed him, despite his disclaimer, because we believed him to be Marcus Welby, and MW was a man to be trusted.
     In some ways, this is a good phenomenon. It is part of our willing suspension of disbelief that allows us to enjoy entertainment of all sorts that we know, fundamentally, is not real.
     And... when we read up on the real person, we find ourselves in the land of TMI. Oh, my goodness, I just don't need to know all that because it interferes with my thorough enjoyment of the picture.
     I can say that I may not enjoy your politics or lifestyle, but I sure do enjoy your work, and that is good enough. I think art should be experienced through your own imagination. History is a separate subject. Watch the film; have fun; leave Wikipedia alone. 

January 5 - UnResolved

January 5 already, and I have yet to broach the subject of New Year's resolutions. I've postponed any so far. 
    Interactions, with two different people have colored my thinking on this for 2014. One fellow spoke at UU about this, and said he didn't make any resolutions, first because he knew he wouldn't keep them, and second because he found himself to be surprisingly happy and not compelled to think up some changes he would like to make. 
    It was not as self-satisfied as it might sound. He seemed to feel at ease with himself, just as he is, and content with his life and its inevitable ups and downs.
    I began to think about this resolving business we go through at least once a year, and how the majority of our resolving has to do with all that is wrong with us and how we are going to fix it in this "new" unspoiled year. We adults know, that New Year's is just a turn of the calendar day, and the day we have right now is pretty much all we have. It occurs to me that it's truly more about what you are doing with yourself this minute than all the changes you are going to make next year.
   I just read about a high-priced seminar ($4,000 a pop) that is attracting a lot of movers and shakers seeking to peak their performance in the future. One technique that is taught is when you set a goal for yourself (What will you being doing in five years, or next New Year's?), visualize yourself as that person down the road and see if you actually picture yourself as being a person who has made those changes. Your future picture, what you really believe about yourself, is a very good yardstick to measure whether you will likely meet the goals you have set, or whether you had better pick some different goals.
    That picture we have of our future selves brings me to the next thought provoking interaction. I went to a retreat in October with Pema Chodron, a Buddhist writer and teacher, whom I read and admire very much. On Sunday, at the final session, I was bathed in a warm glow of happiness; contentment; and ease with myself. That is a big part of what she teaches, ease with yourself, based on a profound belief in our innate worth and goodness.
      A younger woman, with whom I had spoken casually, stood up the minute Pema left the stage and said, "Well, this was so great. If only I could hold onto it in real life." I was shocked and a little sad that this deserving person so quickly tossed away what we had spent the weekend learning and experiencing. Her picture of herself in the future was not positive. She did not picture herself as a person who was going to be "doing it" in the future, whatever her definition of "it" was. She did not see herself as a person who could stay in touch with the peace inside herself, and she was probably right.
      Back to making resolutions for what is wrong with us. That is the problem. We see ourselves too much as deeply flawed persons - from crow's feet at the corners of our eyes to bad marriages and oh, goodness, lest we forget, too much weight. We are bad, and we have to gird our loins in 2014 to fix it.
But we don't really think that we will because we don't see ourselves as profoundly ok - not picture perfect, but ok.
    I think that is what my church friend meant. We are pretty much ok; life is pretty good. Just get up everyday and be yourself. Try to pay attention to opportunities that arise to be the good person you are, and especially to those that can lead you astray. Do the first and bow out to the rest, as much as you can.
    Does that sound like a resolution? Maybe so, but it is one that I try to wake up to everyday in January, February, March and so on. That is my $4,000 worth, and, oh yes, Scarlett, tomorrow is another day.
    

January 2

This coffee just gets better and better. So rich and creamy. This morning I have been doing my readings and yoga in the semi-darkness of my living room. It's gray outside, and I hear rain on the roof. Is there anything better than coffee, a book, and rain on the roof? I'm just saying that, but then, I think I also read a similar quote somewhere, so I am not alone in this.

When you do yoga, it only goes well, if I just stop and let go of all the yadda, yadda, yadda. My former yoga teacher told me early on, "You can't effort into this: you just have to let go." I'm not writing about yoga this morning, but it was here in my cocoon of coffee, warmth, yoga and rain on the roof, that the usual yadda-yadda began to subside and I started to feel, well, grateful.  

I was in the middle of Warrior I, when I thought, "Gosh, I'm so grateful that I am able to do this." I was thinking about physically able, but then it just kind of morphed into a surge of gratitude about all the things in my life that have brought me to the right here, right now of doing this pose that always makes me feel strong and brave. 

It's just one of those you-had-to-have been here moments that I could not possibly explain in words, but it did lead me to two specific thoughts. 

I belonged to a yoga studio in the mountains, where I used to live. Two, strong, beautiful, extraordinary women ran the studio and were my teachers. I first came to Yoga as I do to everything in my life, feeling fat, stupid, and incompetent. Does this LOOK like a body that can do Yoga?

I absolutely had to place myself in the front of the group, so that I wouldn't look at everyone else and just fold up my mat and go home.

My teachers saw only a body that could. Wheel? Headstands? Probably not, but then those were my decisions. A body that could sit peacefully, breathe in and out, and try. Yes. A body which began to sing the song, "I can do more if you just let me." A body that stood in Warrior I, hands in the air, feeling strong and brave, YES! And the opportunity to bow in gratitude and joy: the sacred in me salutes the sacred in you. I never left the studio that I didn't hug myself tightly to hold onto those wonderful feelings that I could take with me into the rest of my life. 

I also thought of a woman I know. I believe she is a remarkable 80 years old. Someone told me that her motto is, "Try to do something that scares you everyday." We were talking once, and she suddenly said, "I just feel so grateful." And she cried with that overwhelming feeling of gratitude for being alive and all the wonderful things about living. I didn't ask her specifically what she was grateful for, but I understood it too be the overwhelming joy from all the elaborate contents of "now." Just being here and what we can do with that.

Sometimes that strong, brave, grateful self eludes me. I am older now, and not always so distracted by what isn't, but I'm scantly improved. I do have these things; these people; these experiences that slow me down and sometimes let me be in that now place and so genuinely awed by it all. 

Too many words. It's mostly a quiet thing. 

January 1 2014

An auspicious start to 2014. I opened my October 28-dated-fresh bag of Peet's Cafe Domingo coffee and fell in love. It tasted like sin in my mouth, and I'm semi-wretched as Peet's is usually beyond my daily coffee budget. Thank goodness for Target sales - let's see: is it worth having my bank accounts compromised for good coffee. Duh! Of course.

Oh, yes, New Year. G-Man, Chili Dog, and I took our annual New Year walk on the beach. It's a bit cooler this year than usual, but plenty of people were out  walking dogs; tossing new footballs; and enjoying the beach. 

I looked for signs of what 2014 would bring, hoping to find an Auger shell, my good-fortune shell, but no luck this year. I did find a shiny, point-intact Olive, which I gave to a little girl and her Mom. Ok, starting off with a good deed.

We saw several schools of dolphins with many moms, babies glued to their sides, diving in perfect tandem. I love the way dolphins make people stop and look, like snow flakes and helicopters. People just have to stop, point, and jump around with excitement, "Did you see that?"

Then on the way home, we cruised through McDonald's for a diet coke, and there we were amazed to find a couple of guys in day-glo orange ballcaps, going through the drive-through with a roadkill deer strapped to the trunk lid of their car. Yuck! Could I get that to go, please.

Ok, so great coffee, dolphins, and roadkill on January 1. What does this mean for 2014? I'm going to have another cup, but so far, I got nothin'. I will take your calls and letters and get back to you.