Saturday, June 25, 2016

Buddha Speak



Have you ever noticed out of the blue suddenly feeling hostile?  It was a gorgeous day, nothing had gone wrong and no one had challenged me over anything.  But I was feeling hostile.  So I asked myself, “Why are you feeling this way?”  I thought maybe I had stuffed away a bad experience from the week.  Or maybe some memory from my past had crept through the brain synapses to trigger a bad memory.  We all have bad memories hanging out in our biological cells.  Nope, couldn’t bring anything to mind.

So then I thought to myself, maybe someone is thinking hostile thoughts about me.  My naïve self wanted to reject that thought as being highly unlikely since I’m such a nice person.  My shadow self said “Yes!  That’s it!  Bad juju is coming down the pike and headed right toward us!”  Who could it be?

I am a firm believer in the power of thought.  I actually liken it to prayer.  I think this mind energy comes from the part of the brain that most of us don’t much use; you know… the other 97%.  It’s a powerful tool and I believe that the craziness in the world is due to the fact that most humans don’t cultivate this part of the brain in positive and compassionate ways but rather let it grow dark and mean and hostile.  But I digress.

So if someone somewhere in the world is thinking hostile thoughts about me, what can I do?  Simple.  I can say the 2500 year old prayer that Buddha taught called Loving Kindness.  Regardless of a face or a body or even a memory of hostility, I say 5 times over:

May you be filled with loving kindness;
May you be filled with peace;
May you be well;
May you be happy.

 I send this prayer, this mantra, into the universe and let it permeate all that is hostile and mean.  And then I say it again 5 times over to myself:

May I be filled with loving kindness;
May I be filled with peace;
May I be well;
May I be happy.


I am aware that the hostility in me is gone.  It is now time for me to reward myself with a bowl of vanilla ice cream.  Life is good.

Thursday, June 9, 2016

A Moment




      I walked into my bedroom after taking a shower this morning. I was clean, in fresh clothes, ready for the day.  I walked pasted the front window and noticed a man standing at the side of my driveway, leaning on the trunk of the Sycamore tree.  He seemed distressed.  He was wearing jeans, a long sleeve shirt over a dark green tee shirt and a black bandana around his head.  He leaned his tall body forward and vomited.  I watched a little longer wondering if I should call an emergency vehicle for him.  He heaved a few more times and then took a tissue from his pocket and wiped his mouth, the inside of each nostril, wiped his eyes. 

As I watched him I wished I had some magical power to make him feel better.  I thought perhaps he was dealing with cancer and the effects of chemotherapy. 

I spoke to God, “Can you send him some relief?”

     The image of this man—this stranger, leaning against the tree, vomiting in the driveway, took away my feeling of comfort for just a moment.  My compassion for him pulled me from my place in the world into his place in the world.  This is what so many people I have known and will come to know have to struggle with.    

     He put the tissue back into his pocket, straightened up, and walked away leaving only the memory of his body against the tree and a stream of vomit trickling down the driveway into the street.  I want to see him healed, strong, living the life he thought he’d have when he was twenty. 

     All we have is this moment, and then the next moment and maybe the one after that moment.  We don’t know when the moments will run out.  I send peace and compassionate thoughts to this man who stepped into my moment.


June 9, 2016