Monday, February 17, 2014
new year, new benefit
Wow, look at that! Rediscovering this blog just in time to talk up this year's Daddy Tapes benefit! That's some kind of synchronicity, I guess. Meanwhile, I've had yet another therapist foisted upon me, and after our second session I'm pretty sure that she's going to be a bust as well. What are the odds? One to one?
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
27th Annual Daddy Tapes benefit for American Heart Association!
I'm so proud to be a part of Bill Popp's benefit at R Bar for the American Heart Association. Every year for the past TWENTY SEVEN years Bill has put on a benefit on behalf of his father, called the Daddy Tapes benefit. It has become a local music institution, and I'm excited to be working the door for this show.
The famous guitarist of the Patti Smith Group, composer, producer, author, music historian, compiler of the legendary Nuggets series, and all-around great guy Lenny Kaye will be playing; that's reason enough to go to the show if a good cause and eight (!) other fun bands aren't enough inducement.
R Bar
218 Bowery (what 3rd Ave becomes below St. Marks Place/Cooper Square)
between Prince & Spring Sts. (a block and a half below Houston Street)
on the West side of the street
6:30 PM to ? (at least midnight, and probably later)
The famous guitarist of the Patti Smith Group, composer, producer, author, music historian, compiler of the legendary Nuggets series, and all-around great guy Lenny Kaye will be playing; that's reason enough to go to the show if a good cause and eight (!) other fun bands aren't enough inducement.
R Bar
218 Bowery (what 3rd Ave becomes below St. Marks Place/Cooper Square)
between Prince & Spring Sts. (a block and a half below Houston Street)
on the West side of the street
6:30 PM to ? (at least midnight, and probably later)
Wanted: person-walker
Soon it will be Spring. People will be out and about even more than now, and I have to get myself back out there too.
I used to depend on other people going with me to walk, and to that end I fantasize about putting an ad in the local foreign-language Penny Saver-type rag saying:
My other choice is to invent an invisible friend to walk with me. My last invisible friend was French (with a Parisian accent, no less!); this time, the odds are he'll be Korean. The good news is I get to work on my foreign language skills; the bad news is it's cheating, because I should really be doing this by myself with no outside help, real or imagined. Ah, well ::sigh::
So here's my ad for the local invisible friend Penny Saver:
I forgot to mention that the lack of intellectual stimulation over the past year has also been a factor in my decline since the loss of my teacher. I miss those conversations. Hopefully my new invisible friend will be the best conversationalist ever! Yeah, I know it's all imaginary, but I don't actually expect a real human to answer my ad.
Oops, 5:30 AM; time to finish watching my kdrama and catch a bit of sleep. 안녕히 주무세요; 사랑해요, 친구. (I'm sure my invisible friend can read 한글, plus I wanted to show off my new typing skills ㅅ_ㅅ.)
I used to depend on other people going with me to walk, and to that end I fantasize about putting an ad in the local foreign-language Penny Saver-type rag saying:
Wanted: person-walker
Just like walking a dog, but no running and no picking up poop. I can't pay you money, but as an energy exchange or barter I will help you with your English language skills. Learn proper pronunciation and grammar for the low, low price of taking a lady for a walk around the park for an hour or so a day.
My other choice is to invent an invisible friend to walk with me. My last invisible friend was French (with a Parisian accent, no less!); this time, the odds are he'll be Korean. The good news is I get to work on my foreign language skills; the bad news is it's cheating, because I should really be doing this by myself with no outside help, real or imagined. Ah, well ::sigh::
So here's my ad for the local invisible friend Penny Saver:
Wanted: person-walker and invisible friend
To take me for walks around the park, to accompany me as I run errands, and to love me, encourage me, and motivate me to get my ass in gear. Multilingual a plus, and intellectually stimulating conversation is a huge plus.
I forgot to mention that the lack of intellectual stimulation over the past year has also been a factor in my decline since the loss of my teacher. I miss those conversations. Hopefully my new invisible friend will be the best conversationalist ever! Yeah, I know it's all imaginary, but I don't actually expect a real human to answer my ad.
Oops, 5:30 AM; time to finish watching my kdrama and catch a bit of sleep. 안녕히 주무세요; 사랑해요, 친구. (I'm sure my invisible friend can read 한글, plus I wanted to show off my new typing skills ㅅ_ㅅ.)
A lady named Ruth
Let's face it, I've been having a hard time. See, there's this lady named Ruth, and try as I might I can't communicate with her. Nah, let's not talk about her. I'm doing this quarterly review thing, and it has come to the forefront of my attention that I'm not in as good a place this year as I was last year. I can blame it all on someone like Ruth, but that's not the truth of it.
I've been reflecting, and I've got a lot to give thanks for. Between a teacher that I used to have when I lived in the country and the teacher I had when I returned to the city, I've grown more in the last few years than in a bunch of others combined. I'm so much stronger in so many ways; I have more confidence in my abilities, more assurance of my strengths than I ever used to, and I can acknowledge it without feeling as if I'm committing some sin of pride.
That being said, I've fallen far behind where I was last year. I was just beginning to become confident enough to do the "coffee on the front steps in the morning" thing, and I felt quite sure that with the work I was doing with my teacher I would achieve my short-term goals. That didn't happen, not simply because my amazing and wonderful teacher was no longer guiding me in my path, but because my teacher's replacement never provided me with anything close to the same kind of guidance. I feel as if I've spent the last ten months or so pulling pills off of an old sweater rather than running laps around a track. Weird analogy, right? Okay, here's a better one: picking nits slowly and carefully off of one hair at a time, when what I want to do is shave it off and get on with the important stuff like running around the track. Yes, it's ultimately helpful to remove all the nits from my head; but at this pace I won't be lice-free for another five years, and in that time five years of my life will have been lost and gone forever. I can't wait to live, I need to do it NOW, and rehashing old emotional shit and picking it apart down to the molecular level does nothing but make me bored, angry, frustrated, and fed up.
On the other hand, maybe I had to waste almost a year with this shit until I got fed up enough to do something about it. So, I'll write a letter to the gang explaining why I feel they've failed me (and I've already got a couple of drafts in my computer; I've been working on this for a while, now) and take the steps to finding myself a new teacher. I don't know if there's any way I can ever find anyone as good as the last one, and I'm sure a large part of my depression last spring was the heartbreak over losing him, but I've got to try. I need to be my own Prince Charming and save my own life, since it's obvious there won't ever be some other who'll do the saving for me.
That's a pretty sweet lesson, I think.
Peace
I've been reflecting, and I've got a lot to give thanks for. Between a teacher that I used to have when I lived in the country and the teacher I had when I returned to the city, I've grown more in the last few years than in a bunch of others combined. I'm so much stronger in so many ways; I have more confidence in my abilities, more assurance of my strengths than I ever used to, and I can acknowledge it without feeling as if I'm committing some sin of pride.
That being said, I've fallen far behind where I was last year. I was just beginning to become confident enough to do the "coffee on the front steps in the morning" thing, and I felt quite sure that with the work I was doing with my teacher I would achieve my short-term goals. That didn't happen, not simply because my amazing and wonderful teacher was no longer guiding me in my path, but because my teacher's replacement never provided me with anything close to the same kind of guidance. I feel as if I've spent the last ten months or so pulling pills off of an old sweater rather than running laps around a track. Weird analogy, right? Okay, here's a better one: picking nits slowly and carefully off of one hair at a time, when what I want to do is shave it off and get on with the important stuff like running around the track. Yes, it's ultimately helpful to remove all the nits from my head; but at this pace I won't be lice-free for another five years, and in that time five years of my life will have been lost and gone forever. I can't wait to live, I need to do it NOW, and rehashing old emotional shit and picking it apart down to the molecular level does nothing but make me bored, angry, frustrated, and fed up.
On the other hand, maybe I had to waste almost a year with this shit until I got fed up enough to do something about it. So, I'll write a letter to the gang explaining why I feel they've failed me (and I've already got a couple of drafts in my computer; I've been working on this for a while, now) and take the steps to finding myself a new teacher. I don't know if there's any way I can ever find anyone as good as the last one, and I'm sure a large part of my depression last spring was the heartbreak over losing him, but I've got to try. I need to be my own Prince Charming and save my own life, since it's obvious there won't ever be some other who'll do the saving for me.
That's a pretty sweet lesson, I think.
Peace
Monday, February 11, 2013
sleeping, dreaming, waking
I dreamed of you last night. There were several people standing around, as they do at art gallery openings and wine and cheese parties, although I can't remember what event was happening, or if there was one. I was over here, and I caught a glimpse of you over there, three or four depths of people between us. I just saw your face for an instant, and that was it. No conversation or anything, and it wasn't a major part of the plot of the dream, but you were definitely there.
Interesting; I hadn't planned on thinking about you for another couple of months, but you popped up sooner. Why? What is there to tell me? Are you reminding me that my work tanked after you left? Are you gently chiding me to get back on track? Easier said than done, with Ruth as my support system. I mean, seriously; how can I focus when my helper is more scattered than me?
I hope you didn't email me and think I ignored you; I haven't used my normal e-mail address for a year now. Too much Facebook crap filled my inbox every day, and since I couldn't figure out how to turn it off I just abandoned both of them. I use alliesbass now, but I don't check any of my accounts with any frequency.
As you see I stopped blogging here after my forward movement came to a crashing halt. I was doing a sex blog on another platform, but I haven't posted on that one in a month or two either. I've been spending an awful lot of time on Tumblr, reading a lot of manga, watching a lot of anime, watching lots of Korean and Japanese mini-series, watching lots of Korean and Japanese movies, and learning about things like non-binary sexuality and gender fluidity.
According to a bunch of people in the non-binary community, bisexuality is as rigidly binary as heterosexuality and homosexuality. There's a fierce debate going on at the moment that I'm fascinated by and very much invested in; it affects how I will want to label myself, and it's helping me take a deeper look at my orientation and how I see myself sexually. I am also getting used to the longer LGBTQIA, which stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered, Queer/Questioning, Intersexual, and Asexual. I'm not sure of Q for Questioning, because all the other categories (besides Intersex, which describes a condition, or rather a group of conditions) describe orientation. On the other hand it makes sense, because even at this stage in my life I'm questioning my orientation based on the (for me) new ideas of gender fluidity and non-binary sexuality. (It's not that my orientation has changed, it's just that my previous self-label may not have been completely accurate.) Also, Q for Queer isn't specifically about orientation, it's an umbrella term for all the other non-heteronormative sex/gender minorities. I think polyamorous folks would fit under that umbrella, for example.
Gee, look at me; I ended up writing a blog post after all. It doesn't really belong here (the paragraph above is the kind of writing I've been doing on LiveJournal) but it's good to let you know what I've been up to.
Studying the complexities of sex and gender has been and continues to be an interesting and introspective journey, so I suppose it fits in with the contemplative theme I was originally going for when I started this blog.
Sending my thoughts of peace and lovingkindness to you out in the ether, to you reading this blog, to you not reading this blog,
I am with grateful thanks,
Respectfully yours,
AH
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Compassion and Disappointment
It is difficult to feel loving-kindness when one's feelings are hurt. My newest metta bhavana is focused on cultivating thoughts of loving-kindness towards people who have hurt my feelings in some way. I am thinking of children who bullied me in grade school, friends who didn't stick up for me when I needed it, and people who've left me in the lurch.
I was recently given an unpleasant explanation for the disappearance of an important person from my life; someone I just met implied that one of my teachers was guilty of professional misconduct and lost their job because of it. If this is true it causes me sorrow, because it means that my teacher made a decision that hurt a lot of people. I feel sadness for my teacher, and I feel sadness for all the people who were affected by whatever the bad decision was.
On the one hand I want to tell my teacher, "I feel that you were selfish to put your need to do whatever you did that was wrong above the needs of all your students who relied on you." On the other hand, I want to say, "You must have felt what you were doing was right, and the consequences were worth it." What I want to say most, though, is, "Whatever you may have done that was wrong, it doesn't negate the work we did together, and it doesn't negate the importance of the lessons I learned from you. You continue to be one of my most important teachers; that does not and cannot change. I only wish I could have continued to learn from you; I feel you had much more left to teach me, and I still had a lot more to learn from you."
How do I send metta to someone who is guilty of wrongdoing? Praying* that all sentient beings be free from suffering does not mean that criminals are not guilty of their crimes, and by praying for them I am not condoning their actions. Rather, I am praying for them in spite of their actions—or more accurately, regardless of their actions. When I perform metta bhavana, I am praying that all sentient beings be safe from harm, live with ease, and enjoy peace. There is no addendum to qualify that only "good" people receive my prayers. I am sending metta to all sentient beings: sharks, doctors, eagles, rapists—who or what they are and whether they spend their lives and actions in a way I approve is immaterial.
Whether or not my teacher is actually guilty of wrongdoing is something I doubt I will ever know. My disappointment, my sense of loss is not changed in any way by the taint of guilt. But the most important new lesson from this situation is that my metta bhavana does not change. Guilty or innocent, my teacher deserves the same loving-kindness as always. And see, that's a new lesson learned! Thank you, teacher.
*Prayer in this article does not refer to supplication to a deity for granting of a boon; it refers to a meditation practice in which I am cultivating compassion for others. In other words, instead of asking a God to do something kind for me, I am generating kind thoughts within myself and sending them outward.
Both require an inner focus, and prayer is the word I grew up with, so I use it.
I was recently given an unpleasant explanation for the disappearance of an important person from my life; someone I just met implied that one of my teachers was guilty of professional misconduct and lost their job because of it. If this is true it causes me sorrow, because it means that my teacher made a decision that hurt a lot of people. I feel sadness for my teacher, and I feel sadness for all the people who were affected by whatever the bad decision was.
On the one hand I want to tell my teacher, "I feel that you were selfish to put your need to do whatever you did that was wrong above the needs of all your students who relied on you." On the other hand, I want to say, "You must have felt what you were doing was right, and the consequences were worth it." What I want to say most, though, is, "Whatever you may have done that was wrong, it doesn't negate the work we did together, and it doesn't negate the importance of the lessons I learned from you. You continue to be one of my most important teachers; that does not and cannot change. I only wish I could have continued to learn from you; I feel you had much more left to teach me, and I still had a lot more to learn from you."
How do I send metta to someone who is guilty of wrongdoing? Praying* that all sentient beings be free from suffering does not mean that criminals are not guilty of their crimes, and by praying for them I am not condoning their actions. Rather, I am praying for them in spite of their actions—or more accurately, regardless of their actions. When I perform metta bhavana, I am praying that all sentient beings be safe from harm, live with ease, and enjoy peace. There is no addendum to qualify that only "good" people receive my prayers. I am sending metta to all sentient beings: sharks, doctors, eagles, rapists—who or what they are and whether they spend their lives and actions in a way I approve is immaterial.
Whether or not my teacher is actually guilty of wrongdoing is something I doubt I will ever know. My disappointment, my sense of loss is not changed in any way by the taint of guilt. But the most important new lesson from this situation is that my metta bhavana does not change. Guilty or innocent, my teacher deserves the same loving-kindness as always. And see, that's a new lesson learned! Thank you, teacher.
*Prayer in this article does not refer to supplication to a deity for granting of a boon; it refers to a meditation practice in which I am cultivating compassion for others. In other words, instead of asking a God to do something kind for me, I am generating kind thoughts within myself and sending them outward.
Both require an inner focus, and prayer is the word I grew up with, so I use it.
Friday, May 18, 2012
new music blog
Check out Puss In (Punk) Boots, where I talk more about music and less about spirituality (although there's a whole lot of intertwining going on, especially because I've been thinking and talking a lot about MCA lately).
Much earlier today I had a song in my head, specifically this one:
It's called "Easy to be Hard," from the musical Hair by Jerome Ragni and James Rado. The video is from the film version of the musical.
Why post it here instead of on my music page? I think it's because the wistful quality is appropriate for some of the ups and downs I've been experiencing lately. This is the song that soundtracked my thoughts earlier.
Later on, I had a much different song playing in my head. It's called "Pay To Cum," by DC hardcore band Bad Brains. The lyrics are impossible to understand because the song's so fast, but they are:
Much earlier today I had a song in my head, specifically this one:
It's called "Easy to be Hard," from the musical Hair by Jerome Ragni and James Rado. The video is from the film version of the musical.
Why post it here instead of on my music page? I think it's because the wistful quality is appropriate for some of the ups and downs I've been experiencing lately. This is the song that soundtracked my thoughts earlier.
Later on, I had a much different song playing in my head. It's called "Pay To Cum," by DC hardcore band Bad Brains. The lyrics are impossible to understand because the song's so fast, but they are:
I make decision with precision
Lost inside this manned collision
Just to see that what is to be
Perfectly my fantasy
I came to know with now dismay
That in this world we all must pay
Pay to write, pay to play
Pay to cum, pay to fight
And all in time,
With just our minds
We soon will find
What's left behind
Not long ago when things were slow
We all got by with what we know
The end is near. Hearts filled with fear
Don't want to listen to what they hear
And so it's now we choose to fight
To stick up for our bloody right
The right to sing, the right to dance
The right is ours... We'll take the chance
A peace together
A piece apart
A piece of wisdom
From our hearts
East Coast versus West Coast Dharma Punks
Several months ago I read Dharma Punx by Noah Levine. I was struck by the differences between the East Coast and West Coast experience. As a member of the NYC punk/hardcore scene, I felt familiarity with a lot of things he said about the music and the community of the scene, but there was a lot I couldn't relate to because it was so far removed from how things were on this side of the continent. The emotions, the violence and crime, the drugs, the solidarity and support systems: I was surprised at how many differences there were.
Once again I have a reason to miss MCA; Adam Yauch would have been someone who could have so eloquently and with such depth of understanding explained the similarities and differences between Levine's experiences and ours. He was a member of the same NYC punk/hardcore scene as me, and he became very well-known not only for his music but for his Buddhism, especially his right livelihood with the Milarepa Fund and the Tibet Freedom Concert series.
I would love to know if Adam ever wrote a review of Dharma Punx, or even if he made mention of it sometime. I wish I could hear his opinion, discuss it with him, learn his thoughts about not just the book but his experience as a counterpoint to Levine's.
Sigh.
Once again I have a reason to miss MCA; Adam Yauch would have been someone who could have so eloquently and with such depth of understanding explained the similarities and differences between Levine's experiences and ours. He was a member of the same NYC punk/hardcore scene as me, and he became very well-known not only for his music but for his Buddhism, especially his right livelihood with the Milarepa Fund and the Tibet Freedom Concert series.
I would love to know if Adam ever wrote a review of Dharma Punx, or even if he made mention of it sometime. I wish I could hear his opinion, discuss it with him, learn his thoughts about not just the book but his experience as a counterpoint to Levine's.
Sigh.
Friday, May 11, 2012
"What's the use of this?"
I started a new blog called What's The Use? whatstheuseofthis@blogspot.com for all the whinging and whining, so I can keep this one focused on lighter subjects. Guess I'll be over there from now on until the black cloud lifts.
Sunshine
I hate the way the suns twinkles at me through the blinds, taunting and teasing and torturing, letting me know exactly how lovely it is outside; and here I am inside playing Bejeweled with the music on, the same tinkling tune over and over again, and a deep voice telling me "Good!" when I blow up the shiny colors.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Still Feeling Bad About Adam Yauch, But Worse
I wish some stories weren't so quickly replaced online by the next new thing.
I wasn't interested in fighting with people over the definitions of sex and gender that were brought on by a news story about a transgendered musician who gave an interview to Rolling Stone about nir plans to transition.
I wasn't interested in the furor and subsequent—what word could express the most vicious hatred mixed with PCBs, acid rain, global warming, ricin poisoning, and stupidity?—unfriendly comments after the news that President Obama is now apparently in favor of gay marriage.
I was interested in reading more kind thoughts about the death of a beautiful human being. Unfortunately, I read unkind comments. Now I will have to do a Metta mediation for everyone who spews vitriol online.
I wasn't interested in fighting with people over the definitions of sex and gender that were brought on by a news story about a transgendered musician who gave an interview to Rolling Stone about nir plans to transition.
I wasn't interested in the furor and subsequent—what word could express the most vicious hatred mixed with PCBs, acid rain, global warming, ricin poisoning, and stupidity?—unfriendly comments after the news that President Obama is now apparently in favor of gay marriage.
I was interested in reading more kind thoughts about the death of a beautiful human being. Unfortunately, I read unkind comments. Now I will have to do a Metta mediation for everyone who spews vitriol online.
Love, Eros, Sex, and Compassion
Many years ago I read the transcript of a lecture called "Love, Eros, and Sex." In it, the lecturer discussed the differences between the three feelings or states of being and gave definitions for the words. For her purposes, the word "eros" described the heady, charged feeling of infatuation, the physiological and emotional chemistry a person feels when she develops a crush, or he discovers feelings of arousal towards a person. This was distinguished from sex, as the emotion of eros wasn't necessarily accompanied by actual physical contact. Love was a third form of intimacy entirely, and as I recall it was defined as the combination of trust and comfort and a deep bond of friendship, although it wasn't divorced from attraction or sexual feeling.
I've been thinking about this recently in terms of my own personal definitions of relationship words like love, and how they work within and outside of my definitions of lovingkindness or compassion.
<<<<<<<<<<dah-di-dah-di-dah—dah-dah--dit--dah--dah--di-dah>>>>>>>>>>>
The editor interrupts this blog entry for a late-breaking METTA news story:
This past Thursday afternoon Two or three Thursdays ago, on my way home from Rego Park, I was on the subway platform about to get on the up escalator when I noticed a woman at the top of the down escalator looking petrified. She was standing at the very beginning of the moving stair, and it seemed she was unable to step onto it. To my delight a couple of other passengers had noticed her and were trying to encourage her, but they couldn't stick around to help because they had to go catch their buses. Fortunately, by that time I had gotten to the top of the escalator, and I went over to her. She was a small and fragile-looking middle-aged woman, and although she was trying to contain her panic she was in obvious distress. I stood next to her and told her we'd do it together, and that when I counted to three we'd put a foot on the stair. I wrapped one arm around her waist and held onto her hand with the other, and on three we successfully made it onto the stair without mishap or even a wobble. Score! Ten for execution, a terrific success.
But the story's not over; I haven't even gotten to the important part yet.
As soon as I let go of her after we'd stepped onto the train platform, I had the hugest grin on my face. Not because she expressed gratitude, which she did, but because helping this woman gave me such a high. She REALLY needed someone to help her, and I was almost glad that the other thoughtful people didn't go the extra mile because it meant I could have the joy of easing her suffering. I was the lucky one who got to help her through her fear at the top, and I got to see her relief and her smiles when we got to the bottom. I couldn't see her pain and not want to relieve it. I HAD to help her; there were no two ways about it.
<<<<<<dah-dah-dah--dah-dah—di-di-di--di-dah--dah-dit--dah--di-dit—di-dah-di-dah-dit>>>>>>
And now back to our regularly scheduled blog entry:
So how does this experience have any correlation with love, eros, or sex? Believe me when I tell you I felt love for the woman at the top of the escalator. The clichéd expression "my heart went out to her" accurately describes how I felt. I was drawn to her, with an overwhelming need to comfort her and ease her pain. I associate that feeling—of caring deeply for another being and wanting in some way to protect, shelter, or comfort—with the idea of love, and believe it is an intrinsic part of that experience.
When I think of the emotion that feels essentially the same whether it's felt towards an animal, a child, or a lover, I call that feeling love. It's a soft feeling, a feeling of appreciation, a feeling of joy, of sweetness, and of warmth. It's that indefinable sensation of magic when watching an animal or person sleeping; you're witnessing their unconscious breaths, and you can feel how precious, fascinating, and vulnerable they are, and you are torn between leaving them to rest and staying to keep vigil over them. It's unfortunate that one of the synonyms I keep getting for this intense felling of caring is "maternal," because this emotion is of course without gender or age (I've seen very young toddlers express this emotion toward turtles, caterpillars, and other larger creatures as well).
I've been thinking about this recently in terms of my own personal definitions of relationship words like love, and how they work within and outside of my definitions of lovingkindness or compassion.
The editor interrupts this blog entry for a late-breaking METTA news story:
 |
| See the difference in the two people's sizes? This escalator is STEEP! |
But the story's not over; I haven't even gotten to the important part yet.
As soon as I let go of her after we'd stepped onto the train platform, I had the hugest grin on my face. Not because she expressed gratitude, which she did, but because helping this woman gave me such a high. She REALLY needed someone to help her, and I was almost glad that the other thoughtful people didn't go the extra mile because it meant I could have the joy of easing her suffering. I was the lucky one who got to help her through her fear at the top, and I got to see her relief and her smiles when we got to the bottom. I couldn't see her pain and not want to relieve it. I HAD to help her; there were no two ways about it.
And now back to our regularly scheduled blog entry:
So how does this experience have any correlation with love, eros, or sex? Believe me when I tell you I felt love for the woman at the top of the escalator. The clichéd expression "my heart went out to her" accurately describes how I felt. I was drawn to her, with an overwhelming need to comfort her and ease her pain. I associate that feeling—of caring deeply for another being and wanting in some way to protect, shelter, or comfort—with the idea of love, and believe it is an intrinsic part of that experience.
When I think of the emotion that feels essentially the same whether it's felt towards an animal, a child, or a lover, I call that feeling love. It's a soft feeling, a feeling of appreciation, a feeling of joy, of sweetness, and of warmth. It's that indefinable sensation of magic when watching an animal or person sleeping; you're witnessing their unconscious breaths, and you can feel how precious, fascinating, and vulnerable they are, and you are torn between leaving them to rest and staying to keep vigil over them. It's unfortunate that one of the synonyms I keep getting for this intense felling of caring is "maternal," because this emotion is of course without gender or age (I've seen very young toddlers express this emotion toward turtles, caterpillars, and other larger creatures as well).
Chest Pain
It hurts, it's been hurting for a while, and although the pain went away for a few days, it's back.
Pretty soon I'm gonna start quoting Shakespeare. Uh oh, it's happening--can't--stop---
I'm gonna go have some hot and sour soup that doesn't have enough vinegar or sesame oil in it.
Pretty soon I'm gonna start quoting Shakespeare. Uh oh, it's happening--can't--stop---
I beseech you, punish me not with your hardNo, I'm not suicidal, so shut up. This was an important quote for me for many years; I know that feeling. He was feeling sorry for himself, but he had plenty of good reasons.
thoughts, wherein I confess me much guilty to deny
so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let your
fair eyes, and gentle wishes go with me to my trial;
wherein if I be foiled, there is but one shamed that was
never gracious; if killed, but one dead that was willing to
be so: I shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to
lament me, the world no injury, for in it I have nothing;
only in the world I fill up a place, which may be better
supplied when I have made it empty.
As You Like It (1.2.346-55)
I'm gonna go have some hot and sour soup that doesn't have enough vinegar or sesame oil in it.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Compassion and Losing Important Influences
I was already feeling kicked in the chest (more on that in another post) when yesterday's news, of the death of Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys, really knocked the wind out of me.
Adam was, with the other Beastie Boys, part of the atmosphere I lived in during my high school/college years in NYC. We didn't go to the same school or live in the same neighborhood, but we had friends in common (yeah, David Sparks) and went to a lot of the same punk/hardcore shows. We also shared some other journeys in common, including interests in activism and meditative practices. Adam became one of the vanguard of musicians who openly discussed their personal spiritual beliefs both musically and in their other work, founding the Milarepa Fund and putting on concerts to raise money and awareness for Tibetan independence. He was a musical, social, and spiritual influence for me and a lot of my peers.
Below is a Beasties Boys song lyric coauthored by Yauch:
Lyrics to "Boddhisatva Vow," reprinted from LyricsDepot:
As I Develop The Awakening Mind I Praise The Buddha As They Shine
I Bow Before You As I Travel My Path To Join Your Ranks,
I Make My Full Time Task
For The Sake Of All Beings I Seek
The Enlighted Mind That I Know I'll Reap
Respect To Shantideva And All The Others
Who Brought Down The Darma For Sisters And Brothers
I Give Thanks For This World As A Place To Learn
And For This Human Body That I'm Glad To Have Earned
And My Deepest Thanks To All Sentient Beings
For Without Them There Would Be No Place To Learn What I'm Seeing
There's Nothing Here That's Not Been Said Before
But I Put It Down Now So I'll Be Sure
To Solidify My Own Views And I'll Be Glad If It Helps
Anyone Else Out Too
If Others Disrespect Me Or Give Me Flack
I'll Stop And Think Before I React =
Knowing That They're Going Through Insecure Stages
I'll Take The Opportunity To Exercise Patience
I'll See It As A Chance To Help The Other Person
Nip It In The Bud Before It Can Worsen
A Change For Me To Be Strong And Sure
As I Think On The Buddhas Who Have Come Before
As I Praise And Respect The Good They've Done
Knowing Only Love Can Conquer In Every Situation
We Need Other People In Order To Create
The Circumstances For The Learning That We're Here To Generate
Situations That Bring Up Our Deepest Fears
So We Can Work To Release Them Until They're Cleared
Therefore, It Only Makes Sense
To Thank Our Enemies Despite Their Intent
The Bodhisattva Path Is One Of Power And Strength
A Strength From Within To Go The Length
Seeing Others Are As Important As Myself
I Strive For A Happiness Of Mental Wealth
With The Interconnectedness That We Share As One
Every Action That We Take Affects Everyone
So In Deciding For What A Situation Calls
There Is A Path For The Good For All
I Try To Make My Every Action For That Highest Good
With The Altruistic Wish To Achive Buddhahood
So I Pledge Here Before Everyone Who's Listening
To Try To Make My Every Action For The Good Of All Beings
For The Rest Of My Lifetimes And Even Beyond
I Vow To Do My Best To Do No Harm
And In Times Of Doubt I Can Think On The Dharma
And The Enlightened Ones Who've Graduated Samsara
Adam was, with the other Beastie Boys, part of the atmosphere I lived in during my high school/college years in NYC. We didn't go to the same school or live in the same neighborhood, but we had friends in common (yeah, David Sparks) and went to a lot of the same punk/hardcore shows. We also shared some other journeys in common, including interests in activism and meditative practices. Adam became one of the vanguard of musicians who openly discussed their personal spiritual beliefs both musically and in their other work, founding the Milarepa Fund and putting on concerts to raise money and awareness for Tibetan independence. He was a musical, social, and spiritual influence for me and a lot of my peers.
Below is a Beasties Boys song lyric coauthored by Yauch:
Lyrics to "Boddhisatva Vow," reprinted from LyricsDepot:
As I Develop The Awakening Mind I Praise The Buddha As They Shine
I Bow Before You As I Travel My Path To Join Your Ranks,
I Make My Full Time Task
For The Sake Of All Beings I Seek
The Enlighted Mind That I Know I'll Reap
Respect To Shantideva And All The Others
Who Brought Down The Darma For Sisters And Brothers
I Give Thanks For This World As A Place To Learn
And For This Human Body That I'm Glad To Have Earned
And My Deepest Thanks To All Sentient Beings
For Without Them There Would Be No Place To Learn What I'm Seeing
There's Nothing Here That's Not Been Said Before
But I Put It Down Now So I'll Be Sure
To Solidify My Own Views And I'll Be Glad If It Helps
Anyone Else Out Too
If Others Disrespect Me Or Give Me Flack
I'll Stop And Think Before I React =
Knowing That They're Going Through Insecure Stages
I'll Take The Opportunity To Exercise Patience
I'll See It As A Chance To Help The Other Person
Nip It In The Bud Before It Can Worsen
A Change For Me To Be Strong And Sure
As I Think On The Buddhas Who Have Come Before
As I Praise And Respect The Good They've Done
Knowing Only Love Can Conquer In Every Situation
We Need Other People In Order To Create
The Circumstances For The Learning That We're Here To Generate
Situations That Bring Up Our Deepest Fears
So We Can Work To Release Them Until They're Cleared
Therefore, It Only Makes Sense
To Thank Our Enemies Despite Their Intent
The Bodhisattva Path Is One Of Power And Strength
A Strength From Within To Go The Length
Seeing Others Are As Important As Myself
I Strive For A Happiness Of Mental Wealth
With The Interconnectedness That We Share As One
Every Action That We Take Affects Everyone
So In Deciding For What A Situation Calls
There Is A Path For The Good For All
I Try To Make My Every Action For That Highest Good
With The Altruistic Wish To Achive Buddhahood
So I Pledge Here Before Everyone Who's Listening
To Try To Make My Every Action For The Good Of All Beings
For The Rest Of My Lifetimes And Even Beyond
I Vow To Do My Best To Do No Harm
And In Times Of Doubt I Can Think On The Dharma
And The Enlightened Ones Who've Graduated Samsara
Friday, April 20, 2012
How I Am Like A Lawn
I spent the weekend in the country recently, and as always happens when I change scenery, I got some new perspectives.
It has to do with lawns. (For the strictly city-folk among you, lawns are expanses of ground covered with grass and the occasional shrub for use as status symbols, areas upon which to play touch football, dining areas for summer barbecues, and sources of "good healthy outdoor exercise" in the form of lawn maintenance [consisting of watering, weeding, seeding, and cutting the grass, preferably while riding a fancy tractor-like lawn mower].)
You see, I have something in common with a lawn:
I have a lot of knowledge spread out over a wide area, but it rarely goes very deep.
Although I value my interest in a wide variety of subjects (more on that in my next post), I feel that now I want to spread out a little less and dig down a little more; I want to deepen my understanding of something and concentrate on it for a while (for example, I'd like to increase my fluency in French) rather than my usual practice of flitting from subject to subject.
It has to do with lawns. (For the strictly city-folk among you, lawns are expanses of ground covered with grass and the occasional shrub for use as status symbols, areas upon which to play touch football, dining areas for summer barbecues, and sources of "good healthy outdoor exercise" in the form of lawn maintenance [consisting of watering, weeding, seeding, and cutting the grass, preferably while riding a fancy tractor-like lawn mower].)
You see, I have something in common with a lawn:
I have a lot of knowledge spread out over a wide area, but it rarely goes very deep.
Although I value my interest in a wide variety of subjects (more on that in my next post), I feel that now I want to spread out a little less and dig down a little more; I want to deepen my understanding of something and concentrate on it for a while (for example, I'd like to increase my fluency in French) rather than my usual practice of flitting from subject to subject.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Joy (and by joy I mean delight) of Learning
Just a few minutes ago I was reminded of how much I love, love, love to learn from someone who is passionate about his/her subject. I was watching an episode of TED Talks [sidebar: TED is "a nonprofit devoted to Ideas Worth Spreading," and TED Talks are watchable online at ted.com; you don't need to watch them on television], and after two lectures I had to stop watching and blog immediately.
The first lecture, given by writer/director/producer J.J. Abrams, was engaging, funny, and inspiring. His view of the unknown, as mystery to be anticipated with excitement, was beautiful. However, it was the second lecture, given by Princeton molecular biologist Bonnie Bassler, that prompted my need to write today.
Her lecture described how bacteria talk to each other (with a molecular chemical language, since you asked), and how that enables them to behave in concert—including a very satisfying, oh-right-that-makes-perfect-sense explanation of how "bad" bacteria can become virulent. I noticed partway through the lecture that I was grinning as broadly as a child at a cartoon festival. Why was I smiling? After all, this wasn't humorous pop-culture stuff; there was hard science here (although Bassler made everything easily understandable to the layperson). Then it dawned on me: this woman was as excited about her team's discoveries as a kid pulling on your pant leg to say, "Hey, look what I found! Lookit, lookit, lookit! Isn't this the coolest thing you've ever seen, ever?" Her enthusiasm was infectious enough to reach out through the tv set and grab me. Granted, I would have been interested in the subject no matter what (because I'm such a nerd), but her love for her science and for its possibilities permeated her lecture and filled me with delight.
As I sit here typing, the smile still lingers. I'm still excited about what I learned. And I'm excited to be excited; the thrill of learning something new, the joy of discovery, the delight and fascination at how things work, it's all still inside me.
You're never too old to learn, and it's still just as much fun as ever.
The first lecture, given by writer/director/producer J.J. Abrams, was engaging, funny, and inspiring. His view of the unknown, as mystery to be anticipated with excitement, was beautiful. However, it was the second lecture, given by Princeton molecular biologist Bonnie Bassler, that prompted my need to write today.
Her lecture described how bacteria talk to each other (with a molecular chemical language, since you asked), and how that enables them to behave in concert—including a very satisfying, oh-right-that-makes-perfect-sense explanation of how "bad" bacteria can become virulent. I noticed partway through the lecture that I was grinning as broadly as a child at a cartoon festival. Why was I smiling? After all, this wasn't humorous pop-culture stuff; there was hard science here (although Bassler made everything easily understandable to the layperson). Then it dawned on me: this woman was as excited about her team's discoveries as a kid pulling on your pant leg to say, "Hey, look what I found! Lookit, lookit, lookit! Isn't this the coolest thing you've ever seen, ever?" Her enthusiasm was infectious enough to reach out through the tv set and grab me. Granted, I would have been interested in the subject no matter what (because I'm such a nerd), but her love for her science and for its possibilities permeated her lecture and filled me with delight.
As I sit here typing, the smile still lingers. I'm still excited about what I learned. And I'm excited to be excited; the thrill of learning something new, the joy of discovery, the delight and fascination at how things work, it's all still inside me.
You're never too old to learn, and it's still just as much fun as ever.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Metta, part the first
I only learned the term Metta recently; I knew the term lovingkindness, a lovely comforting and comfortable word. So many letters all crammed together like a nice squishy hug, a nice long word like arms spread out to say, "I love you this much." Lovingkindness meant something different than either word separately; I always saw the word as an overall serene benevolence, a soft smile that misses no sentient being in its scope (and to me the smile encompasses the vegetable and mineral kingdoms as well as the animals). Lovingkindness is the state of being or emotion that reminds me the most of deism, because in my early religious training I was taught of a benevolent god who loves all his creation, and I associate lovingkindness with the state of mind that such a god would possess all the time.
Metta is different. Metta sounds like meta, which means several things to me: it has its computer meanings (e.g., metadata), its scientific meanings (e.g., metatarsal bones), and other meanings that come from its Greek origins as a prefix meaning after, next to, or regarding the self (e.g., metatarsals are the bones next to or after the tarsals, and meta-emotion is a person's emotion about his/her own emotion).
Metta practice is a meditation on lovingkindness in which one first thinks compassionate thoughts towards oneself (meta-Metta when meta refers to self), then towards someone close (meta-Metta when meta refers to next to), then towards someone who's not as close (meta-Metta when meta refers to after), and then towards everyone (meta-Metta when meta refers to beyond). The bigger picture is that all these various separations—I, you, he, they, others—are artificial. In truth we are not separate from each other, and metta is a way to remember that.
Considering how difficult that concept is, it's easier to start with thinking compassionate thoughts as close as our own hearts, and then letting the compassion spread out in expanding waves just like the ripples of a pebble in a pond. The waves begin at the center place where the stone plops into the water, and then roll out in circles that continue to expand farther and farther way from the center point until they reach to the edges of the pond on all sides. The vibrations never stop until the entire surface of the water has been affected; not only that, they don't even stop at the shore, but bounce back off the edges and ripple back into the middle of the pond again.
Metta is different. Metta sounds like meta, which means several things to me: it has its computer meanings (e.g., metadata), its scientific meanings (e.g., metatarsal bones), and other meanings that come from its Greek origins as a prefix meaning after, next to, or regarding the self (e.g., metatarsals are the bones next to or after the tarsals, and meta-emotion is a person's emotion about his/her own emotion).
Metta practice is a meditation on lovingkindness in which one first thinks compassionate thoughts towards oneself (meta-Metta when meta refers to self), then towards someone close (meta-Metta when meta refers to next to), then towards someone who's not as close (meta-Metta when meta refers to after), and then towards everyone (meta-Metta when meta refers to beyond). The bigger picture is that all these various separations—I, you, he, they, others—are artificial. In truth we are not separate from each other, and metta is a way to remember that.
Considering how difficult that concept is, it's easier to start with thinking compassionate thoughts as close as our own hearts, and then letting the compassion spread out in expanding waves just like the ripples of a pebble in a pond. The waves begin at the center place where the stone plops into the water, and then roll out in circles that continue to expand farther and farther way from the center point until they reach to the edges of the pond on all sides. The vibrations never stop until the entire surface of the water has been affected; not only that, they don't even stop at the shore, but bounce back off the edges and ripple back into the middle of the pond again.
Poetry Info
There's a show on the CUNY channel* called Voices and Visions that has various different kinds of films about poets.
Next week it's supposed to be a repeat of their show on William Carlos Williams, although on cuny.tv's schedule it says it'll be a show on Hart Crane. I'm hoping the cable TV's schedule is the right one, because I saw the Williams episode before and enjoyed it.
*For those of you not in New York, CUNY is the City University of New York; CUNY TV is their television station, on Channel 75 on the various NYC cable stations. They have podcasts and YouTube videos of a bunch of their shows for all you out-of-region folks, but sadly I don't think Voices and Visions is one of them.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Mantras, part not-yet-1
Until I have the opportunity to gather my thoughts enough to write a real essay on mantras, chanting, and using malas, please enjoy the following:
It is one of the mantras I used to use, but haven't in a long while (I've been sticking with the Avelokiteshvara mantra for a little over a year now). Oh, what the heck--here's a throat singing version of that one, too:
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Determination
Yesterday afternoon on the bus I met a very angry five-year-old boy. I don't have any idea why he was so angry; his father led us to believe he had been denied something and wasn't happy about it. This young man was determined to remain furious for the entire bus ride. I've never seen someone frown with such focus. He concentrated with all of his being on pulling his brows down as far as they would go. His teeth were clenched and his face was scrunched up tight. He stomped his feet as hard as they could stomp, and then he squatted down and put his arms around his knees. It was the most exquisite sulk I've ever seen. The lady sitting next to me and I couldn't help laughing with delight at the boy's display. He glared at us dolefully and then worked on his frown some more. I couldn't help but be impressed by this kid. Okay, right now he's causing his father a lot of grief, and his father is responding by muttering, "He's gotta learn that he can't get everything he wants." But when he's older this same stubborn refusal to budge could turn him into a hero. When I saw him glaring over his knees, the phrase that came into my head was, "We shall not be moved." I thought, if this kid gets some encouragement to stick to his guns when it really counts, he could become a great force for good. I envisioned him becoming an advocate for people with lesser-heard voices, and when the powers that be want to push him around, he'd glare at them with the same frown he's been perfecting since he was five, and say, "We shall not be moved."
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