We're On A Road To Somewhere

Love Knows No Lines

2011-05-23T23:50:00.000-07:00

When you love someone, you love them. You see how they are different, but it is the last thing you see. There is no line between us when there is love. When I feel love for me, I no longer see the one who loves me as other, or different, or separate. We are each part of the same thing, the same life. There is no line.

Love is love. I love my cat and my cat loves me. She is nothing but love and joy and she is a part of me. Even in death, she is part of me. She is love and that love can not leave me, even when the purr is gone. It would be no different if she were human, love is love.

Her name was Dottie and every moment she was with me she made me know she loved me. Every moment she was here, I loved her. There is no line. The love is still there, because that is what makes us all one. And like any true line, it has no end.

Close To The Bone

2011-05-18T23:17:00.001-07:00

So nervous
nowhere to go
open, close
open, close
Fingernails in palm
open, close
shift left, look to the sky.
Not there.
Nails dig deep.
Open.
Close.
goodbye

I Am Wrong!

2011-04-19T21:25:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile. Many things have happened and now it is time to move on. Here is something worth thinking about.

Comparisons

2011-03-11T21:29:00.000-08:00

As people try to survive the unimaginable in conditions straight from the part of Hell reserved for those who did nothing worse than live, there are those who think the rest of the world was made for their convenience.

This man yelled his way out of a much deserved ticket and then came back into the cafe to gloat over his victory.

To the people of Japan, and Haiti and Libia... I apologize that the people of my country frequently show such little respect for life. Such little awareness of how lucky they are to live here. Such minuscule regard for even the most basic aspect of civilized behavior.

The Return

2011-03-08T23:17:00.000-08:00

Been gone for a bit. Now I am back, having thought of a great many things. For now, though, just pictures.

I am not sure what I would do without my camera anymore. Taking pictures is really just a different way of having a conversation with myself.

The light brings perspective, the colour demands attention, the table brings back memories. Why record what I see? Is this something I should let happen and fall away or is this a moment I want to remember? What is it that draws me to this moment in the first place? Why did I see what I saw and why does it speak to me?

Today it was the light. It felt like a lifeline in a place where one was greatly needed. Beauty and warmth and life were pouring through the window and it was magic. Magic I could put into my camera to save for later.

39/365 (work in progress)

2011-02-09T21:05:00.000-08:00

37/365

2011-02-07T22:04:00.000-08:00

#5- How Do I Want To Be Different Because I Lived In This World?

It is suggested that I make a list of things I want to do while I am alive. I used to have a list of things I wanted to do- travel, go to medical school, learn to paint in France... Nowadays, I don't have much of a list. I am not sure what I want, with the exception of a few things

1) Touch a glacier. A big glacier. Preferably I would like to kayak up to a great, huge glacier and touch it.

2) I would like to travel in Italy by myself. Not the whole country, per se, but a few cities that I could spend some time in and be a part of for a brief time. I would like to be "Adrienne" in an Italian city, not "Cameron's Mom" or "James' Wife" in an Italian city.

3) Go to Graduate School and actually know something about something. No stupid Business degree, though.

I hope that by the time I die that I am a larger person than I am now. A grander person. Someone who has seen life in all its permutations and wants to see more. A person who is alive until I am dead.

35/365

2011-02-05T20:46:00.000-08:00

#5- How Do I Want The World To Be Different Because I Lived In It?

The world is automatically different because I live in it than it would be if I had never existed. My children are my single greatest contribution to it. Beyond that, I don't know. Perhaps to live a life without regret, without contributing to the worsening of the world, in accord with my spirit and not at the whim of others. That isn't as simple as it sounds, by the way.

So much of daily life adversely impacts people we never meet. The organic cotton t-shirt we bought on sale at the cute boutique in whatever chic part of town was still most likely made in a sweatshop by someone, possibly a child, who makes fifty cents a day in Jordan. The gas that powered the truck that brought my farm fresh radishes from the farm in Marin to the Ferry Building in SF is the same gas that is killing us all as we use it all up to get to work on the other side of nowhere. The laptop I use to write this post is about to die, and even though I will try to find an e-waste company to take it, fact is it will most likely end up poisoning the water supply of a village in Ghana.

So I try to buy clothes second hand and reuse everything I can, recycle what I can not. I try to buy my food from people in California. I try not to drive. I try to make what I need, and to need less. I try to teach my children a different way, to understand that their choices impact the lives of people they will never see. I try to live a life of less impact and more conviction and joy.

Then again, I still shop at Target and I have a Costco card.

34/365

2011-02-04T13:55:00.000-08:00

#4 Why do I like (what I like) more than I like (what I am supposed to like)?

Oh boy. There are so many things I could put in those blanks. What comes to mind right this moment is-

I like the quiet moments where the world is still a beautiful and amazing place way more than I like your IPad.

33/365

2011-02-03T18:18:00.000-08:00

No questions. Just statements.

Hers was the call that galvanized it all. Never sit when you can stand on your own feet, never accept degradation from anyone, never be less than you are because of the actions of others. Believe, stand, hold fast, breath.

32/365

2011-02-02T22:32:00.000-08:00

#3- Why worry?

While I can be counted on to be the Voice of Doom, I am not a worrier. At some point when I was very young I found out that worrying was not worth the energy, especially when there was a world full of worrisome crap swirling around me for most of my childhood. I knew that thinking about something endlessly would not make it happen.

"Why feel defeated?" would be a better question for me. Feeling like I am a failure, defeated, whatever word you can put in there, is where I get tripped up. It isn't the failure that I find difficult, it is the feeling of failure I need to work on.

Where do we pick this stuff up from?

31/365

2011-02-01T12:09:00.000-08:00

# 2- Is this what I want to be doing?

This is a question I ask myself quite often, but not often enough. As a result of being somewhat rudderless and open to just about anything, I often find myself in situations where I need to ask myself if what I am doing is really what I want to be doing. Surprising thing is how often I find that the answer is no.

It has been very frequent lately that I decide to join in on an activity or go out to do something only to find when I get there that I was a great deal happier when I was quietly on my own. Every time it comes as a shock to me that I am feeling uncomfortable and that solitude is the remedy. It wouldn't be a surprise if I was asking myself question #2 a little bit more frequently.

30/365

2011-01-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

I have run upon 20 questions that I am supposed to ask myself. Sure. Why not? One a day for the next 20 days then.

#1- What Questions Should I Be Asking Myself?

I suppose it depends on the situation, but in this greater life sense I will have to think about it a bit. One thing is clear, I need to question my current path. I have become a drifter and seem to be floating in an eddy . Sometimes a little drifting gives you the rest you need to paddle back out into the current, but sometimes you get stuck in the mud of the shallows and you have to get out and push to get going again.

Am I where I am supposed to be? Am I letting myself bob along the edge of the river so long I am becoming skittish about diving back in? Are some of the things I see coming things I am trying to hide from? When was the last time I really engaged the world around me in an energetic and truly enthusiastic manner?

Those seem like enough questions for today. There will be others tomorrow. I will find myself doing something that will require new questions to be answered.

29/365

2011-01-30T18:15:00.000-08:00

There is much I have wanted to write about the past few days, but much has kept me away from the keyboard. Typing has become one of the daily tasks I have that has become quite painful, along with cleaning, food prep and bicycle riding. My hands, especially my index fingers have become so swollen and painful that I find myself rationing my activities to make sure that the most important things get done first. Personal writing does not rank very high on the list, no matter how much I love to do it. Making sure there is dinner on the table seems to be a more pressing concern.

Moving forward in life I can see that this is going to become an increasingly more difficult dilemma to negotiate. The demands of family and the world around me are so loud and insistent and, ultimately, not possible to ignore. If I am committed to a life without driving then the lovely long rides through the country side or the crazy social rides through town that I have enjoyed for the last few years are not really possible. If I must answer a dozen emails in an hour I can not then write about my thoughts on fear today. The bathroom needs to be scrubbed which means the living room can not be vacuumed.

With what appears to be increasing limitations on what my hands can do, how do I find space for the things I love? How do I keep from becoming bitter over what I must do?

26/365

2011-01-27T23:11:00.000-08:00

Sometimes there is nothing to say.

25/365 (PM thoughts)

2011-01-26T23:30:00.000-08:00

Here we are. It is 11:30 at night and I just rode 20+ miles up and down hills around San Francisco. I am tired and my mind is blissfully blank as it usually is after a good, hard ride. The stars were out, the air was clear. Life is good.

25/365

2011-01-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations.

When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence.

When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

- John F. Kennedy

24/365

2011-01-25T18:44:00.000-08:00

Flu.
It drags me down.
My only friend, the couch.
There is no call from the
sunny world outside
that speaks as sweetly
as my lovely sofa
which promises
horizontal comfort and
healing naps.

22/365

2011-01-23T21:39:00.000-08:00

This day, last year. Turns out it was a really amazing day! After talking about not being nostalgic yesterday, I thought it might be fun to see if I experienced something I wanted to hold on to. This was just after some huge storms had shut down the Great Highway to car traffic. After 5 storms in a row and a couple more on the way we were stir crazy and needed to get out and have some fun. The air smelled clean and the light was amazing and all of San Francisco was out in the sand just happy to not be stuck inside.

The rest of the set is here.

22/365

2011-01-22T21:26:00.000-08:00

20/365

2011-01-21T12:51:00.000-08:00

I am not a sentimental person. Nostalgia is not something I spend much time indulging in. Not being stuck to things in the past is very freeing in many ways, but at the same time it is a bit like the Janis Joplin line goes- "freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose". Lack of nostalgia frequently means lack of memory. There are many things that I have not formed strong memories of that others would remember easily and vividly. Sometimes I find this a bit disturbing.

A good friend of mine can remember the smallest details of people she knew 30 years ago. Another old friend remembers just about every bump or scratch she ever had. When they talk about these memories I listen in awe or bemusement, especially if they are remembering something I should be able to remember for myself. There are a good many times I end up feeling inadequate, I really should be able to remember more of my life and the people who have populated it. I can't help but feel there is some level of disrespect on my part for not remembering more and better, as though events and people I care about are not worthy of room in my mind, and by extension in my heart.

Sometimes I try to fix things in my memory which is part of the reason I take so many pictures. The world chases artificial intelligence and I try to corral artificial memory.

This is the night Barack Obama won the election. When I look at the picture I remember how cold it was out and how happy everyone was in the streets and waving to them from my bicycle as we rode through the Mission. I remember going to our friend Tom Valtin's house to see how his bid for District Supervisor was going. I can also tell by how these memories feel that were it not for the photograph of them that I would not remember most of it accept in a very vague way.

Despite this, even when there is something I want to remember and can't (especially about the kids when they were small) I find memories burdensome. When I listen to the extensive memory catalog that some of the people I know have access to I experience an acute sense of the tremendous weight of it. I find myself wondering how they live with it? With that many sharp, detailed and obviously closely held memories, are they able to experience this moment on its own or only in comparison to the past? How much energy does it take to carry it all, and shift through it, and keep it cataloged and continue to add to the collection?

19/365

2011-01-20T18:35:00.000-08:00

18/365

2011-01-19T21:36:00.000-08:00

Classes started yesterday, but I have not been given a registration time as yet. Another semester of not being able to start what I want. In the past this would have been enough to kill my motivation, these days, though, I have enough going on that contributes to my future that I can be patient.

I sometimes wonder about the things that seem like obstacles. Are they meant to stop us, or are they there to challenge us and what we think we want? If I am going to get back into school I am going to have to really want it. Every step of the way there will be mountains to climb, just getting in will be the first. It is better to know now how much I want to achieve this goal instead of getting half way through and realize it is not what I want and quit (something that has huge consequences in the future should I ever try again to study something).

Those things that come easy always seem untrustworthy to me. There should be some struggle. We should have to work, we should have to fail, we should have to try again and again.

Looks like I am right on track.

17/365 (work in progress)

2011-01-18T09:18:00.000-08:00

I walk a fine line
between myself
and
you
an edge on a razor
that cuts
as I
balance
and bleed
tea and sympathy

16/365

2011-01-17T23:58:00.000-08:00

I rode through the fog this evening. Lovely, thick, dense fog that hugs the trees and seeps through my hair. I love to walk through trees in this kind of fog, or sit out on the cliffs and listen for the fog horns. It is the kind of fog that acts like a time machine and lets me be in any place in time. A beautiful, enveloping fog that makes the Universe a more intimate place. This is the fog of my childhood, that I remember with such longing and tonight it is all around me.

15/365

2011-01-16T13:17:00.000-08:00

Sunday is the day of family.

14/365

2011-01-15T23:39:00.000-08:00

Last year I became the person in charge of my local elementary school's Food Pantry. Every Friday afternoon we give away food to those at the school who need it ($150, 000 worth last year), and until this day that has been about 50 families (in a school of just over 300 students that is pretty significant). Every week I see the same people and I have come to know them pretty well. We have managed to make our little Pantry a very friendly one where no one seems to be embarrassed or shamed. It ends up being a pretty social event with lots of people staying to chat with one another while the kids peek into the bags to see if there are any snacks to pillage.

Friday, through a misunderstanding several people were encouraged to come for food before we were officially open. There are usually one or two people who just can't wait until we are open for any number of very good reasons. The other families understand that there are some who have special needs, so there has never been a problem. The people who came today were new to the program and my guess is that they are accustomed to other pantries where people have to stand in line and competition for food is sometimes quite stiff. I couldn't believe how pushy they were, or how unwilling to listen. There are very few times when I feel even a little bit of stress while at the Pantry, but this was little bit like being in shark tank.

By the end of the day, we had increased our client list by 50%! It is good to know that there are people in need who have now been identified. I have increased the amount of food we will be shipped each week and I will increase the time the Pantry is open to accommodate these new people. They, however, will have to learn the rules- no pushing, no grabbing, no snatch and run... in other words, this will be a very calm, civilized Pantry. There is no reason on Earth why charity has to be uncivil or aggressive. This is not an emergency air drop of C-rations to a disaster zone.

Maybe this week I will play some music and hide the food a little bit so I can keep a tighter lid on poor behavior.

13/365

2011-01-14T23:59:00.000-08:00

I love concrete and geometry and those things that have fallen apart just a little bit.

12/365

2011-01-13T17:19:00.000-08:00

How my friend Melyssa sees me

How I see me

Interesting.

11/365

2011-01-12T11:09:00.000-08:00

I was having a rough day on the personal-view-of-self front yesterday. That seems to be one of the side effects of self reflection. For myself, I find myself wondering how the hell I got to this point in my life and still know just about nothing about just about everything. It can be a bit of a downer at times.

Then I looked at this picture of my family. They all look so much alike and they are all giving me the same look that James gives me when he is being patient with me as I make him do something that seems like a good idea at the time. I had to laugh. I may not be all that I can be on a daily basis, but I am enough to have put this crew together and that is amazing in my book.

10/365 (Dizzy)

2011-01-11T00:12:00.000-08:00

spin
spin
spin
smile
try to remember those days
and hold on

9/365

2011-01-10T20:23:00.000-08:00

How do you get past being self-conscious? I want to start a project, one that encompases my photography and poetry, but I am a little intimidated by the process. Getting it started is not the issue, I have already done that. It is more an issue of showing it to others and leaving it open for the opinions that follow.

It seems silly to me that I would even allow doubt to be an issue here. I am trying to go back to grad school and that is not the least bit intimidating, even coupling it with a change in career. Showing people my poetry, especially coupled with photography is hooking me up. I hate to think that for even a moment I would start shooting with the idea of what other people will see or write with any worry of how other will accept it- I would just stop both or second guess myself into the grave.

Ripples

The water is poured and the glass is placed.
I notice the water drops on the counter.
The light marks the space and small colours appear.

I listen to what you tell me

and see that everything has changed.
The water and the light whisper it to me
while I try to stay in my seat.

8/365

2011-01-09T22:59:00.000-08:00

Because I am uncomfortable on Facebook I tend to post very impersonal things. At least to those who read them they must seem quite impersonal. I usually post about what I made for dinner, which for some reason people seem to enjoy. Tonight's post was-

Bits and pieces soup- cranberry beans, farro, mirepoix, and ham finished with cheese according to individual taste (pecorino, ricotta ensalda or mozzarella). Rosemary bread and blue cheese.

The fact is, you can tell a lot about my day by what I cook. Lots of ingredients or something that needs a lot of prep means I have had at least a couple of great days and lots of energy. Roast chicken means I want homemade food but I don't have the energy to chop or prep anything. Delivery pizza... I have no interest in food at all but the kids are hungry.

Tonight was cabinet soup. Make something out of whatever is around. I want to eat at home, I don't want to leave the comfort of my living room. I need a rest and real food.

I guess nothing is what it seems. Nothing is impersonal, just interpretive.

7/365 (Distraction)

2011-01-08T23:18:00.000-08:00

There is no escape from distraction for me anymore. Every time I try to do something or think in a straight line I am derailed by one thing or another. This is an endlessly frustrating challenge for me. I find it draining and tiring and after a day of it I have no patience. Phones always ring the moment I have my hands full doing something that requires my full attention. The exact moment I decide to start a knitting project and need to count stitches and lay a correct foundation for it someone in the house decides that now is the time they need a question answered in the other room.

I end up having to do the same things over and over and over again because I get interrupted and distracted all the damn time. If something takes more than 30 minutes it will never get finished. How could it? Everyone has something that needs my attention now. They know that this is the 12th time I have started and pulled out the same knitting because of repeated interruptions but they just keep coming at me. I put my project down until everyone is doing something engrossing in hopes of having a few minutes to do something... but no. Suddenly someone needs something right this moment.

Argh!

5/365

2011-01-06T23:03:00.000-08:00

On this 5th day I will invoke my right to not incriminate myself.

4/365

2011-01-06T00:24:00.000-08:00

I listened to a podcast from the SF Zen Center, today. It was by my favorite lecturer, Christina Lehrner. She was asking the kids in the audience to remember what it felt like, physically, to be happy or sad or angry. I listened while I was cooking dinner and the whole time I was feeling all of these different things. It was all very absorbing and I didn't realize that Declan was listening, too. He came to be with me and started talking about what he was hearing and about what love feels like to him- warm and snuggly. He stayed to make the lasagna with me.

Christina asked her listeners to start the day with a positive thought and to end it with a loving, reflective one. I will end mine with thoughts of lovely, 5 year old snuggly hugs over lasagna. It does not get better than that!

3/365

2011-01-04T07:00:00.000-08:00

I took this over the summer. Cameron and Úna spent half an hour just lying there, talking about nothing, telling silly jokes, Úna letting Cameron get the tangles out of her hair. That little moment made me ache with happiness. It takes such trust and comfort to let someone play with y0ur hair or to talk while resting your head on someone's shoulders in the sun.

Watching them I thought of a moment I witnessed when I was 16. Several of my friends and I were waiting outside a church in Lake Tahoe in the middle of the night, in the snow and cold waiting to be let in. My friend Laura was leaned up against her brother Greg while he leaned on the porch railing. He had his arms around her to keep her warm and she kept talking to me like this was no big thing. I was so aware in that moment that the only thing I felt I was really missing in life was a sibling that would drive me crazy until that moment I was cold and needed someone to put their arms around me to keep me warm. A big brother who would be there when I needed him.

I never had siblings. My kids do. It was the least and the best thing I could provide them.

2/365 (A Girl's Gotta Eat)

2011-01-03T19:01:00.000-08:00

When James and I first started living together in 1991 I didn't cook. I knew the basics, but eating was just not important enough to spend the time needed to really learn how to make anything interesting. The call of the cereal box and the soup can was sufficient. James didn't agree with me so he did the cooking. He had more patience than I when it came to chopping for half an hour for a meal that took ten minutes to eat on the way out the door to go to the bar.

Having kids certainly upped the ante when it came to food. My Mom baked bread several times a week when I was growing up. We had desert every night. I don't remember going out for dinner many times. I was never forced to eat anything, but I was encouraged to try anything new and because of this I have never been a picky eater. So when Cameron got old enough to eat real food I had to start cooking. There was no way I was going to raise a child who wouldn't eat and the only way that was going to happen was by making food a fun thing. Smelling food cooking, watching it being prepared, helping where possible is what makes kids love food. It also helps if they don't see a Mom who is angry or frustrated about cooking.

There are three kids at the table every night these days. After many years of going to the Food Network school of cooking and many misadventures with eggplant and "asian lasagna" (never again) I have become a fairly good cook. I know how to use most ingredients and there is little I will not try to make. As long as it isn't too spicy the kids will try anything and are certainly not picky eaters. Like myself at that age, the kids get invited to dinner at their friend's homes because other parents hope that not being a picky eater is contagious. It is the secret dream of all California parents that their children will grow an appreciation for sushi.

However, there is a downside to all of this cooking. My family is so used to being cooked for that they have become picky about eating. They are not picky in the way my friend's kids can be- only white food, nothing that isn't fired, only if it is covered in cheese sauce... They have become very picky about food quality and get bent out of shape if they have to eat out too often. They critique the food I make each night! I get requests for lamb and putanesca and dumplings and roast chicken... there is a demand for a nightly restaurant experience. When your kids actually want a wide variety of food from all over the world it is very hard to say no.

So now, I cook. I have become the opposite of what I once was. I not only cook, I clean, I darn socks, I dust door jams. Somewhere along the line I became a housewife and I have yet to decide how I feel about it. When dinner comes out well and the house is clean and the laundry is done I am content. Other times I wonder what it would have been like to actually complete my International Studies hopes and move to some South American country and work for a consulate in some Spanish speaking place. Usually that happens when the laundry has piled up and the floor I just vacuumed yesterday is covered in crumbs from food I didn't eat. At that moment I am usually dreaming of affordable housekeeping in the Philippines.

There are days when I hate cooking. Cereal boxes still call to me, and when left to my own devices, the most complicated meal I will make is scrambled eggs and toast (with jam if I am feeling really ambitious). Many nights I am forced to make a dinner I am completely uninterested in eating. When I know those days are coming I will keep myself hungry for the second half of the day just so I at least have hunger to drive me to make real food for my family. I have succumbed to delivery pizza more often than I like to admit in the past few months. Hell, I have found someone who will deliver Brazilian food! Delivery is great, but I end up feeling bad if it happens with any regularity- the least I can do is cook if I am not bringing money home anymore. Right?

The worst is when someone cooks something for me that is way better than anything I make on even my best days- people who have nothing at stake, who can eat out of cereal boxes or cans without hearing from anyone else. When the kids like their food better than what they had the night before it hits home (never mind that I liked it better, too) and I have to battle the resentment of the home cook who has to wage war against juvenile hunger on an hourly basis. A never ending battle of food and hunger and guilt and frustration and joy and exploration.

My guess is these thoughts have been thought by millions of woman in thousands of places for hundreds of years. All of us wondering how to balance the food and the desire for freedom. You gotta eat, but you gotta dream, too. Is there a recipe that combines the two?

1/365

2011-01-03T00:50:00.000-08:00

The year before last I did a self portrait project in which I took a picture of myself everyday for a year- a 365 project. I took 350 pictures that became part of that, some better than others. One of my favorites was this one-

Some of the shots I took were very uncomfortable for me to post.

Others were very indicative of my mood at the time.

Mostly, the whole project was enlightening in a number of ways, more so as time has gone on and I look back at the pictures after a year of not looking at them. I am amazed at how many of the pictures I remember taking and what I was doing and thinking at the time. We usually forget so much we forget we are forgetting! This project forced me to pay more attention to what I was doing and why and now it is one of the more memorable years of my life.

I toyed with doing another 365 project this year. I still may, but I am not sure I need that many pictures of myself again! Still, I feel the need for something that requires discipline and accountability on some level (even if it is only accountability to myself). Word Press has challenged those who use its services to blog to write a post a day for the whole year. I discovered the challenge through my friend Andy's blog. A post a day? Can I do that? Do I have enough to say on the very general topic of "spirituality"?

Perhaps that is the challenge. To take the potential topics suggested at Word Press and try to give them a spin. The very thought makes me look like this-

which means I should probably try it. What the heck! I have nothing to lose and maybe just a little insight to gain. We are told we should confront what makes us uncomfortable, and this sure fits that bill. Anyway, if I don't want to write I can always just take a picture!

Take It To The Limit

2010-11-09T00:15:00.000-08:00

We all underestimate ourselves. It is not possible to live to the limits of one's potential everyday. The few times in a life that any of us find ourselves having to stretch beyond our comfortable places are usually spaced far enough apart that we forget over time how strong we have been. I know that this is true for me.

When I was 25, my life changed quite dramatically after what seemed like a pretty minor fall. For the ten years following that fall, I lived with the fallout of injuries that were bad enough to require me to go back to school after being declared, partially, permanently disabled. There were days I couldn't sit in a chair without losing the feeling in my hands or reliably hold a full coffee cup or lift anything over ten pounds without dropping it (including my infant son). Despite trying repeatedly, I could not play my flute for more than a few minutes without becoming clumsy and unable to finger the keys despite having played for almost 20 years.

It has been 15 years since that day, and with patience and lots of hard work, I am stronger than I was before I was hurt. The funny thing is, that even though I know this to be true, it still comes as a surprise to me when I am successful at something challenging that I would never have thought twice about back in 1995.

Just recently I completed my second 100K ride from San Francisco to Point Reyes Station and back. By most measures, I should not be able to do this. When I was first hurt I was told that these things would not be in my future. While I accepted that assessment at first, it is not in my nature to just roll over for defeat. I cannot say that I set out to ride my bicycle almost a hundred miles at a time, but when I realized I was riding 20-30 miles a day just about every day of the week riding around the City it seemed like a natural progression. By just going about my day and tackling the small challenges that came with it I was able to surpass any of the limitations that had been imposed on me 14 years before.

Because my injuries caused some paralysis in my arms, many things like rock climbing became an impossibility for me. Without the grip to carry a sack of potatoes how could I ever hoist myself up a rock wall? It wasn't even a hope on the horizon as I focused my energy on trying to reliably regain my penmanship and ability to safely use a kitchen knife. Again, with focus on the smaller, everyday tasks I found myself getting stronger and stronger. To the point that I was stronger than before I got hurt. Next thing you know, I was up the rock wall! Until that day I would never have thought that was possible.

Underestimation. It is insidious and it infects us all. We all lose faith in ourselves if something isn't right the first time or if we can no longer do things the same way we once did. When the goal isn't attainable by tomorrow we give up. It took me almost a decade to get back to where I was physically in 1995 and another 5 years to get where I am now. Most of the time I was unaware of just how strong I was becoming. It took me all of that time to accept that maybe the worst of that period was finally behind me. The injuries are still there and I have to keep aware of the fact that I could end up back where I was pretty easily if I am not careful, but it no longer limits me to know this.

As bad as the injuries were to my body and my mind, I am greater than that sum. I am stronger than that. I just have to keep remembering it.

A Word, Please.

2010-07-29T14:11:00.000-07:00

There is a lot of really good writing out there. Sometimes, I stumble across something that is just so well written I can't get it out of my mind. The endless ways that people find to describe things with words is one of the reasons I believe that there is more to the Universe than just energy and matter and random events that allow us to evolve. The written word is a miracle. Language is a miracle.

Perhaps because I have not challenged myself to write much recently, I find that my words are leaving me. Every time I sit to write, nothing worth writing comes to the surface. A lack of ideas isn't the issue, I seem to have those all the time and usually at just the point when I can not get them down on paper. My challenge is the words themselves- getting them in order, finding the right ones, remembering how to spell them. What used to be pretty simple, finding the rhythm and flow of words to convey the feeling of a moment or the intensity of a colour or even to just be marginally intelligent about an opinion, is now a quagmire. I struggle with every sentence.

Being a topic of some immediacy, you would think this would be easy to write about, but it is not. I try to touch what swirls in my head and it dissolves, only to be replaced with noise or worry or blankness. The only thing left behind is a hole, like a missing tooth, where the thought used to be and a blanket of mild anxiety that there is something wrong with my mind. Where did my words go? How did they manage to take my creativity with them? How do I get them back when they are just wisps of ghosts carried off in a breeze of unpredictable currents?

When I was younger I could pull words out of the ether. There was never a time when there was no word at the ready, another dozen in my pocket clanking together like loose change waiting to be spent. My words burned to come out onto paper, even when the only paper was a late night diner order slip begged off a waitress hoping for a better tip than the one I would ultimately leave. It was nothing to wake up in the middle of the night with a story formed and ready to go before I had rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Never mind that I wasn't old enough to have anything to write about.

Now, I have so many things I could express. There are decades more experience to draw from, hundreds more people I have met who have given me the beginning of so many tales (cautionary and otherwise). Enough time has passed that many of the things I have done can now be looked at from a compassionate distance and distilled to their essence.

But there are no words. Just pictures in my head.

And they are fading.

Why?

Sustenance

2010-04-21T13:42:00.000-07:00

Strange times seem to come out of nowhere. There have been many strange and unsettling events for me lately, and I have been placed in a position that does not allow me to deal with them in the way that I find the most healing. I am left with a sense of expectancy but little hope of completion. It leaves my sleep troubled and unsatisfying. There is a leash on me that keeps lengthening as I move forward but lets me know that I am still firmly attached to a past I am barred from confronting.

To keep keep moving like this makes very little sense, but to stay tied to this place is unacceptable. With no hope for relief from the situation there is nothing to do but take comfort in what is in front of me- my children (whom may drive me to distraction but are the best company possible), my friends (I have so many who are truly amazing and wonderful people), my home (which may not be exactly where I want to live but has been a Godsend for all of the years we have lived here)... and food.

In a country that exists on synthetic "food" I find great pleasure and comfort in the basic joy of real food. Looking at it exposes me to colour and texture and shape. Smelling it brings me memories of meals past, made by people who care for me. Cutting and prepping it forces me to slow down to appreciate what is before me. Cooking it transforms it from beautiful ingredients (usually straight from the ground) into beautiful meals, some with roots in my childhood and some ways of experiencing other worlds that I can not touch directly. Eating it gives me energy to live, energy straight from the Earth.

Today, I chose to just sit at the table with my lunch and eat it while watching the off season storm blow everything around outside my window. Instead of pondering predicaments, I savored the nourishment in front of me. My bowl of ratatouille and eggs was also a bowl of my great, good fortune. Maybe the strength it took to grow it all becomes the strength I need to move along despite my bindings.

Like Four Season In One Day

2010-03-15T13:03:00.000-07:00

What is it in the air these days? The flux that the financial world is experiencing seems to have become the flux that many are finding in the rest of the world. So many of the people I meet and know couldn't tell you what the week, or even the day has in store for them. There are three apartments in my building, and each one houses someone who has been laid off from long standing jobs. When I go out on my weekly bike rides I meet people who are taking the time out of work to decide what to do going forward.

It sometimes feels like we are all, individually and societally, experiencing a mix of that heady time in our early 20's when everything seems possible and that clichéd time known as "mid-life" where we become aware of all the things that are not possible and cling, too tightly, to the things that are most likely. No wonder there is so much uncertainty and moodiness- These things pulling at us, or pushing at us, or twirling us around making us dizzy and grumpy and unpredictable.

For myself, I find that I must make choices (not an unusual position for a person to find themselves in). The choices are not so undesirable; back to work or back to school? Both have been offered to me and each offer is a good one. The promise of a job with someone I like to work with who respects my talents, or, I can return to school to start something new and maybe embark on a new career.

Going back to work means flushing out what I already know. Deeper understanding of anything is good, and I do enjoy learning more about my profession. Having done what I do for so long, I am comfortable in the clinic with patients. There is tremendous satisfaction in helping people and in having the knowledge to recognize what help is really needed.

Somehow, though, I don't find it very satisfying any more. My last job was difficult because of poor management and broken systems and it left me quite cold. I know there are places that are better run, with better leadership and opportunities to create greater change for my patients. There is little temptation in the thought unless I push it and make myself believe I should want more from my career.

School has called to me for years. I have told myself that I can not go back because of the kids and the expense, but really it is because I do not know what to study next. Studying Physical Therapy further is off the table, even if I stay in the profession (I do not want to spend $100k for a DPT degree). A foreign language degree (Spanish) would be good no matter what I do. The world does not need another MBA, and if it does, it isn't getting one from me.

Of course, as soon as I make the decision I find myself in a futile , one way debate with the voice of descension. No matter how present I try to be, I find myself riddled with guilt (not only not working, and therefor, not making money but spending money I am not making for a future career in ...), frightened of getting it wrong, intimidated of the work involved in getting it right... Endless circles of silliness.

At least there is a theme song-

Honesty Is Such A Lonely Word

2010-03-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

An interesting quote came across my path today. I am reading a "Fine Balance" by Rohinton Mistry. Like all good books it brings up many questions but answers only a few.

Lately, I have been evaluating my reactions to things. My history marks me as being somewhat dramatic. Not a drama queen, but certainly a person of larger than average reactions. Until recently, anyway. These days I suspect that my reactions are a little underwhelming and I find myself wondering why. I find it odd and I am not sure I am comfortable with it.

Either way, as I was reading today, I stumbled across this quote that summed up what I have been thinking about myself and the world recently-

"Maneck studied Beggarmaster's excessive chatter, his attempt to hide his heartache. Why did humans do that to their feelings? Whether it was anger or love or sadness, they always tried to put something else forward in its place. And then there were those who pretended their emotions were bigger and grander than anyone else's. A little annoyance they acted out like a gigantic rage; where a smile or chuckle would do, they laughed hysterically. Either way, it was dishonest."

Honest expression of emotion. That is a hard one. So much of the time, social propriety does not allow for a complete expression of what we are feeling in the moment. We are taught that anger is wrong, that sadness makes others uncomfortable, that we should not show all of our happiness so as to not make others envious.

It makes me wonder how we all get through the day? If every time we feel something we have to censor it, dull it, enlarge it, is it any wonder our reactions to emotion become distorted?

Missing The Point?

2009-12-13T21:38:00.000-08:00

I find regular old Buddhism to be more than challenging enough : )

Focus Required

2009-11-20T18:37:00.000-08:00

Life is complicated. The essence of life is not, but the act of living certainly is. No matter how much we "simplify", no matter how much we "unclutter" the simple act of living becomes a complicated affair that never seems to resolve its self in a consistently pleasing manner. Somehow, just making sure that the kids get to the dentist at least once in the year and making dinner everyday and paying the bills and avoiding another parking ticket and finding a job and learning how to adapt to a new life while trying to get another new life going.... means that much slips by without being noticed.

Tonight, I was all wound up in my own head on my way to pick up the youngest beast from preschool. There seem to be so many things to get wound up about right now. Because I had a bunch of things to do at home, I decided to drive to cut down on commute time, and most likely on a subconscious level, so that I could let my head spin around like a top (I can't do that on my bicycle. The slow pace and total sensory involvement are wonderful for calming the mind). As I drove, I noticed that all the other drivers I could see looked like they were in the same position I was in- distracted, anxious, frustrated, mildly overwhelmed. This, of course, started my already mildly frantic monkey mind to jump on the the tangent of the state of the world and how challenged we all are to just get through the day.

As I drove over the crest of 28th Ave I had to look to the left before I entered the intersection, and there was the most beautiful sunset. The ocean was dusky with simply amazing swirls of purple in the shadow of the swells. The haze from the crashing waves was rose pink and blue. The clouds trailed across the sky in swathes of colour and depth, the kind of clouds you want to sleep on.

I turned the car around so I could just watch it all. As I sat there, I came to realize there was an owl in the tree across the street. The bird was hidden from me, but I could hear it. Listening made me wonder if the owl was talking about the amazing view we had in front of us.

In the distance, there was a small fishing boat heading back toward the Golden Gate Bridge. Back to dock, home. I always feel close to the image of the lone, small boat on the sea. They always seem so beautiful and full of the potential to teach something.

I watched the sky change and the water crash. I listened to the owl in the tree. I stopped spinning. No matter what crashes around me or what sinister twist I put on any situation, there is always a miraculous sky over the vast sea that is unaffected by my petty dramas and anxieties. There is forever at my side a manifestation of truth. I am only part of a greater whole which exists with or without me.

The only question left is whether I am willing to let that be enough?

Death Throws

2009-11-19T20:43:00.000-08:00

"Go not gently into that dark night", said Dylan Thomas. He was speaking of his own death, but I think it applies to the age in which we live.

The 'Old' is dying a difficult, messy, loud death. The 'Old' is taking the line "Rage, rage against the dying of the light" very much to heart.

It is all around us- Somalia, Sudan, Congo, Palestine, Israel, Iran , Iraq, Afghanistan, Georgia, Russia, Wall Street, Main Street. Everything we have known has taken a different turn and the consequences are in the headlines daily. Pirates, crooks, wars, bombings, fundamentalists, conservatism, bank failures, ponzi schemes, water shortages... sounds like it is time for the militias, doesn't it?

These are the death throws of the Old World. Just like a small child who is presented with too much change in too short a period of time will throw a tantrum, the world is screaming and stomping and raging.

I started thinking about this today, not because of horrific headlines in the news, but because of an online discussion about the changes coming to my neighborhood. My neighborhood has changed mightily since it exploded on to the scene as a place to provide emergency housing following the 1906 Earthquake. We have way more people and cars and poorly planned space than anyone could have imagined 50 years ago. In response, it has become time to change the way we drive, park our cars, build our homes, and encourage business to come to our little corner of San Francisco. Many who live here, want things to change so that there can be more room for children to play and people to walk and bikes to ride, but there are many who view change as personally threatening. They are usually quite loud about their fear. That noise can frequently slow progress.

There are three really hot button topics here. Bicycle lanes, dogs and freeway access. Any of these can cause hours of nonproductive mud slinging. Decades ago, San Francisco had a plan for freeways that circled the city. In theory, they would keep car traffic off the streets and give access to all corners of our difficult to negotiate city. No one was ever really able to say if it was a good plan or not- construction was never finished and the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake damaged most of it beyond repair. As a result, several streets in SF were then designated to be the arterials between the 4 compass points, and my street is one of those. At the time I doubt the powers that be gave much thought to the impact that turning these streets into highways would be on the people who lived there. Now, the residents of these places are starting to fight back, and those who have reaped the rewards of these outdated plans are complaining loudly. The ideas of slowing traffic, redirecting flow, and providing multimodal space for buses, bikes, cars and pedestrians is too much for some people. Many fight the increase in housing that needs to occur on the basis that there is not enough parking for them! One argument about improving pedestrian safety outside the local Junior College is that it would slow people down on their way to the freeway.

I am fascinated by fear of change. This is not something I am generally plagued by. Sure, I get nervous about things that come at me, from time to time, I am a regular everyday person, after all. The kind of fear I am talking about here, is the kind that keeps humans from moving on with having a better life. There is something about change that brings us forward that terrifies people. Conversely, many seem really happy with the kind of change that makes us less human and more robot (the Patriot Acts come to mind). My theory is that this all has to do with the illusion of control and our desire to keep the planets moving in the orbits we set for them.

What do you think? Why do we block change? Do we gain anything by it?

Gone, But Not Forgotten

2009-09-21T17:48:00.000-07:00

Hello, all! I am still here, I think. Finding something to write about when your ideas won't gel makes for an exercise in futility. Alas, the curse of the monkey mind! One day, maybe, I will find my monkey has decided to settle down for a banana for a few moments.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to do something I have wanted to do for a long while- I was able to hear Thich Nhat Hanh speak in person. Despite the fact that I do not consider myself to be a Zen Buddhist, I do consider Thay to be my primary spiritual teacher. Some would say he is my Guru, but I do not feel comfortable with that title. Growing up in San Francisco in the 70's has given me a significant bias away from "guru".

Much was said during his hour and a half on stage. Not all of it made it into my head (I was happy to hear there were others who had trouble staying focused). I kept getting frustrated with myself for not being able to maintain a reasonable attention span. After all, this man is 83 years old and will not be giving this kind of public class for much longer. But, there it is. Monkey brain.

The title of the talk was "Our True Agenda". I will admit that I am a bit lost as to how the title related to the talk, but it may come to me later. The two things that did stick with me, though, were this-

Compassionate listening- Until we can learn to listen with compassion, without judgment, with open hearts and empty minds, we can not end the suffering around us, or more truthfully, our own suffering. As he spoke about listening to others without preconceptions or agendas, I felt his words hit home, deeply.

I am not a compassionate listener. I am a clinical listener. That is what I am trained for. I have spent the last 12 years listening to more people than I can remember. When someone tells me something, I automatically listen for "the clue". The clue to whatever it is that ails them, and I use that information to try to formulate a solution. My listening skills have been honed to be a problem solver, and while it is a useful skill for diagnosing illness and injury, it is not always good for simply being a listening, supportive presence.

The judgmental aspect of my personality is not one that makes me terribly happy. Why would it? Being challenged to not only empathize, but to accept, other people's points of view is an uncomfortable place for me. Where is the need for a solution? How do I fit myself in this?

Of course, that is the point- to not fit myself into the situation and simply be a compassionate, supportive presence for whoever needs it. This will take some time.

Stop so that you can arrive- We spend our days speeding through life. There is always a goal to attain, there is always a deadline. Everyday, the world around us presents us with more information than we could ever hope to digest and instead of taking just what we need and moving on, we try to shovel it all down our throats and then hope we don't throw it all back up.

As I drove home from the talk, I kept missing my exits on the freeway because of my lack of attention. I kept having to double back to get back on track, and I am quite sure I added at least 20 minutes to my drive. No matter what I tried, I could not keep my mind clear- ironically, my head was cluttered up with what I had heard Thay tell us and couldn't keep my mind on the route. Without attention to my task, I was never going to arrive home. I had to slow my mind down so I could get in the moment, arrive in the moment, so that I could arrive home.

How often does this happen to us? How often do we let life get away from us and accept that we have not arrived anywhere other than the same old tired thoughts we always have? Why do I accept the rut that I frequently find myself in?

Time to stop. So I can arrive.

One last shot of Thich Nhat Hanh, before I go. Until next time!

Same Same

2009-06-10T10:46:00.001-07:00

Which is which? It is all there, in each element. Can you see it? Thich Nhat Hanh, the brilliant Buddhist monk from Viet Nam, teaches wonderfully about how if you look at something deeply, you can see the whole world in it- the sunlight in the leaves, the river water from Argentina in the clouds, the tree in the blue of the sky... it is all the same, we just entertain ourselves by seeing it all differently. Sometimes I try to find me in the tree, sometimes, the tree in me- all the same.

Take A Load Off Sally

2009-05-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

Blurry

This week I feel as though it is time to strip myself down. I am not sure why this is, but it keeps coming to me in those quiet times that I indeed need to attempt to carry a lighter load. To be honest, I was unaware of the load that had built up in recent months, but suddenly, there it is.

Funny how that happens. We carry so much around and never really know it, I suspect because it builds over time in small increments. Interactions with the world seem a bit like an air conditioner filtre- the more you use it, the more dust and detritus builds up. We never think twice of cleaning the filtres, we even put them on a schedule and the guy from Sears comes out and changes them. Why don't we do the same thing for our selves?

Meditation. I know. You are saying, "Adrienne. Meditation is the answer! Why do you fight this?" I don't. Truly. I meditate enough to know I need to do it more and that I need to go more deeply into it when I do. Lately, I have started to wonder if it isn't time for a retreat?

Of course, as soon as I say "retreat", I begin to do just that! The little thoughts that start the questioning that trigger the avalanche of doubt- How do I get time to do this?, What if I end up sick like I do every time I try to go more deeply?, Who will come out the other end of it?... While you are not supposed to embark on this kind of thing without some kind of intention, I sometimes think there has to be an element of faith that it will be OK so that you can just jump in.

Perhaps in living with intent and consciousness, we have to be conscious of just getting on with it. Could it be that living with the simple intent of just plunging in is enough? Knowing that we know nothing seems like it should be enough for getting on with. There is no way to see what will happen if indeed I do just strip away the layers, and there is no way to do anything other than just plunge in.

More to come.

Alien Encounters

2009-05-18T19:08:00.001-07:00

This weekend, I experienced something utterly alien to me to this point in my life- the ego as a super entity. I have met many people who are completely controlled by their egos, but this was the first time I have encountered someone, face to face, whose ego had actually outgrown the building we were in.

On returning home from a wonderful time at the beach with the kids, we arrived in the driveway to my next door neighbor sitting in his car with a woman I had never seen before. Once we got out of the car, my neighbor came over to us asking to speak in private. This was odd, as we talk all the time (he gave us our Ali cat). It turned out the woman in the car was one of the residents of the apartment building our friend lives in, adjacent to our building. He told us that she had come to him looking for help after having been quite severely beaten by her boyfriend. To make matters worse, the boyfriend was sitting in a car just up the street, waiting for her to make an appearance. My friend felt overwhelmed and needed backup. I told him to go back to his car and tell this woman she needed to go inside and call the police.

Over the years, I have learned to stay the hell out of domestic issues unless there is no way out. They are messy and convoluted and have no end in sight, primarily because those involved have not yet decided that now is the time to end it. After my neighbor went to the car to tell the woman to call the police, and various other tedious events, I got to see this woman. She was really a child- 19, a foreign student at the local college, living alone in an apartment for the first time in her life in a country whose language and customs are not her own. Her ears were bruised and swollen, her nose and eyes were blackened, her lower lip was cut internally and her right foot had been stomped on and had bruises in the shape of her attacker's shoe. This was not a walk away situation.

I will spare you the details. The gist of it is, I spent an hour with this girl as she repeatedly became hysterical and out of control at the thought of calling the police. "He is sorry!", "He is a good person!", "I love him!"... all of the usual things that come from these sad situations. What was so striking about this was that there was so little of 'her'. Everything we experienced of her, from her voice to the posture of her standing, was an ego so destructive, so insane and twisted and in control, so huge it took over all the breathing space in the entire building. Every single person in the building was held hostage to her screams and tantrums and pleading. I could feel everyone holding their collective breath, waiting to exhale.

Ultimately, we called the police despite her protests. It was so obvious that she was utterly out of control and that this had turned into a situation that could not be dealt with in any other way. It no longer mattered if she would loose trust in all of the people involved, her ego was twisting her in knots and was now reaching out to infect everyone around- one minute lashing out in anger and indignation, the next clinging to us begging us to understand and help.

Today, I took refuge in my labyrinth walk. I used my time to meditate on acceptance and to simply rid myself of the dreadful, heavy, desperate, violent energy she had left on all of us. In that time, I knew there was nothing to do but wait for this horrid story to play out. Most likely with this girl in the hospital, because her ego will keep her from leaving- it will plant stories of self-loathing and fear and destruction until there is nothing but walls of cold, slimy terror around her, and hopefully, everyone she touches.

How many people go through this everyday? How many people do they drag into their circle of loathing and distortion? How much of this world's dysfunction is due to these out of control egos and their viral replication?

Perhaps instead of running to the store for Tamiflu, we should all be running to the Ashram for some meditation instruction!

Back To Basics

2009-05-06T22:32:00.000-07:00

Well, now that I have properly compartmentalized my blogging life, it is time to get back to the business of the soul (although I think it is all the same). Here we go!

Things have been crazy, lately! Since being layed off, my life has become very, very busy. As it turns out, having time to find yourself can be terribly tiring. I shouldn't be surprised that things like meditation get shoved to the back burner, and they do. Daily.

Meditation has been problematic for me. Early on I learned that I can do myself a lot of damage by just jumping in and hoping for the best. While I can not say I have made it a priority, I have looked for a teacher to guide me through the perils of unfocused meditation, but none have clicked (except for one or two who are way too far away to be anything other than a loose guide). This, more than anything, is what holds me back from getting back on the cushion and digging in, 'cause I do not need to go back down that dark path again!

Until I can find someone to rope me in, I will have to get back to the labyrinth. I have not been in months and it is calling. It would be a lie to not admit that I decide this with a bit of trepidation. What will this bring up? What will I find lurking in my mind waiting to trip me up?

When did I become this pessimistic?

All That Is Old Is New Again

2009-05-05T00:51:00.000-07:00

As you can see, I have changed the look of things around here a bit. I kept coming to the blog hoping it would become more visually appealing to me, but it didn't. Of course it was completely reasonable for me to expect it to get better on its own. Over the next while, I will experiment with a few things in hopes of becoming satisfied with the results (no acceptance of what is, here).

On a related topic, I would like to announce the next step in this journey of mine- a new blog! My bicycle adventures have taken on a life of their own and now require an outlet of their own. There are a lot of bicycle blogs out there, and many of them are wonderful, but I have an idea I want to flush out- how riding a bicycle changes your life. The bike its self is nothing more than a tool, and so I will leave the discussion of parts and geometry to others. I want to explore how the world looks and how we view it from the saddle.

My new project is being joined by a wonderful woman I met as a result of this journey- Meligrosa of Bikes and the City. We find that we have many of the same questions and a desire to find some answers. This is Meli.

So, if you have a moment, or a story to share of how your bike has brought you change, drop on by! Things are a bit rough right now, but as with all things, it will evolve and change over the next while as we find the right voice for our endeavor.

Change your life. Ride a bike!

Expansion

2009-05-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

Just about a month ago I was layed off of my job. At first, I was a bit taken aback by the whole thing.

I had worked in my company for 10 years and was an integral part of my department. Through years of work, I had created a reputation I could be proud of- a reputation for hard work and dedication to patients that others had written off. Decisions made at a corporate level are what ended my time there, and while it is nice to know it wasn't personal, it is strange to be removed from my livelihood from a remote location.
Either way, with the lay off has come a wonderful surprise- I have time to live! So much of our time is taken up doing the work that keeps business going, that sometimes we forget (or choose not to see) how much of ourselves are taken away by the simple act of working. Even though I enjoyed my job immensely and was good at it, it took something from me- my energy and time. With that gone, the Universe is starting to show me the possibilities that await me, and some of these possibilities are things I never dreamed of.

As anyone who has read this blog or seen my Flickr page knows, I ride my bike everywhere these days. There have been many, many changes to my life as a result of this (more on that at a later date), not the least of which is discovering the many wonderful blogs out there that write exclusively about bikes and cycling in its many forms. Through these blogs, I have participated in many wonderful and thought provoking conversations with people from all over the world. Through those conversations I have come to try things I would never have tried before, and spoken to people I would never have met.

Just the other day, I received an invitation to be a regular contributor to one of the SF local bicycle blogs I frequent, Vélo Vogue. Needless to say, I jumped on the opportunity! The honor of being asked is huge, but the opportunity to write and shoot about something that has become such an integral part of my spiritual journey to an audience around the world is something that could never have happened before I was layed off. There was no time to devote to truly pursuing this path, I could ride but not write. There are only so many hours in the day, and they are usually all spoken for.

After months of wondering how to make my life look more like what my 'self' feels like, I now have the opportunity to act on it. Had I sat down and tried to map out how my life should look, I am not sure that this is what I would have pictured, and yet, it is exactly what I needed. What an amazing blessing! I would be a fool to not follow through.

Soooo, if you would like to see where the bicycle part of my journey is taking me, or where a bicycle could take you, please follow along. If you can, find some time that is just for you and ask the Universe to send you something that you can work on to create a world that looks like what it should feel like to you. You never know what will get sent your way!

Not On My Watch

2009-04-26T22:58:00.001-07:00

We All Have A Cross To Bear
Originally uploaded by busbozo

"Go not gently into that dark night", said Dylan Thomas. He was speaking of his own death, but I think it applies to the age in which we live.

The 'Old' is dying a difficult, messy, loud death. The 'Old' is taking the line "Rage, rage against the dying of the light" very much to heart.

It is all around us- Somalia, Sudan, Congo, Palestine, Israel, Iran , Iraq, Afghanistan, Georgia, Russia, Wall Street, Main Street. Everything we have known has taken a different turn and the consequences are in the headlines daily. Pirates, crooks, wars, bombings, fundamentalists, conservatism, bank failures,ponzi schemes, water shortages... sounds like it is time for the militias, doesn't it?

These are the death throws of the Old World. Just like a small child who is presented with too much change in too short a period of time will throw a tantrum, the world is screaming and stomping and raging.

I started thinking about this today, not because of horrific headlines in the news, but because of an online discussion about the changes coming to my neighborhood. My neighborhood has changed mightily since it exploded on to the scene as a place to provide emergency housing following the 1906 Earthquake. We have way more people and cars and poorly planned space than anyone could have imagined 50 years ago. In response, it has become time to change the way we drive, park our cars, build our homes, and encourage business to come to our little corner of San Francisco. Many who live here, want things to change so that there can be more room for children to play and people to walk and bikes to ride, but there are many who view change as personally threatening. They are usually quite loud about their fear. That noise can frequently slow progress.

There are three really hot button topics here. Bicycle lanes, dogs and freeway access. Any of these can cause hours of nonproductive mud slinging. Decades ago, San Francisco had a plan for freeways that circled the city. In theory, they would keep car traffic off the streets and give access to all corners of our difficult to negotiate city. No one was ever really able to say if it was a good plan or not- construction was never finished and the 1989Loma Prieta Earthquake damaged most of it beyond repair. As a result, several streets in SF were then designated to be the arterials between the 4 compass points, and my street is one of those. At the time I doubt the powers that be gave much thought to the impact that turning these streets into highways would be on the people who lived there. Now, the residents of these places are starting to fight back, and those who have reaped the rewards of these outdated plans are complaining loudly. The ideas of slowing traffic, redirecting flow, and providing multi modal space for buses, bikes, cars and pedestrians is too much for some people. Many fight the increase in housing that needs to occur on the basis that there is not enough parking for them! One argument about improving pedestrian safety outside the local Junior College is that it would slow people down on their way to the freeway.

I am fascinated by fear of change. This is not something I am generally plagued by. Sure, I get nervous about things that come at me, from time to time, I am a regular everyday person, after all. The kind of fear I am talking about here, is the kind that keeps humans from moving on with having a better life. There is something about change that brings us forward that terrifies people. Conversely, many seem really happy with the kind of change that makes us less human and more robot (the Patriot Acts come to mind). My theory is that this all has to do with the illusion of control and our desire to keep the planets moving in the orbits we set for them.

What do you think? Why do we block change? Do we gain anything by it?

Pay No Attention To The Man Behind The Curtain

2009-04-06T18:59:00.001-07:00

(35/365) There Were Decisions To Be Made
Originally uploaded by busbozo

Since I started the more formal leg of my spiritual journey, I have heard the term 'mental construct' a lot. Many groups use this teaching- Sufi, Buddhist... it is used to describe just about all of life, from what I can see. Many teachings point to the 'illusion' that we interpret as life- that there is no difference between a tree a light bulb a person because all are different manifestations of energy (which is what it is).

Sometimes this is a comforting thought. There are times when feeling a strong and direct connection to everything around me is very centering . These beliefs allow me to stay focused in times and situations that are chaotic and stressful. If all around me is joined in this manner then my unpleasant moment will pass to something better to keep the balance that all of nature, all energy requires to be stable (to get really complicated, I suppose this could be a good explanation for impermanence- what I have must change in order to keep balance for all).

Were I to say that I spend all of my time in this thought state, I would be telling one whopper of a lie. Quite frankly, if I can remember this once a week I am doing pretty well. Most of the time I am nicely wrapped up in thoughts of how my own little packet of Universal energy is plodding through life. For now, I find that my exploration into the inner workings of the spiritual universe are most successfully undertaken by looking into my little part of it- me (which, by the by, is why I think we have physical forms- so that we can explore through them).

Since the beginning of the year I have started many projects. All of them were begun for various reasons, most quite mundane, and almost all of them have ended up becoming integral parts of this exploration. Changing my diet to almost completely local food, riding my bike instead of my car, working less to be at home more, writing... have all become indispensable aspects of this journey. I have become highly unattracted to processed food, not because of its deleterious effects on my health, anywhere near as much because you can taste that it has no soul. Not driving my car puts me in a place where I have to rely on my physicality and spirit to get me where I am going (oil use reduction is a pretty good perk, though). Writing this blog forces me to focus my thoughts, which is good because I have serious monkey brain and it can get in the way.

The one thing I do these days that brings me down the road to 'enlightenment', is photography. Aside from the fact that taking pictures of things gives you a different perspective on them, I am learning that taking pictures of myself can open up the way I 'see' me. Starting on New Year's Day, I began a '365 Days Project' in which I have to take a picture of myself, every day, for a year. I had heard of and seen other people's projects before, but my decision to embark on a project myself was very spontaneous and unplanned. I am now on Day 91, which is about 85 days longer than I thought I would get. What I have shot and what I have seen have been very surprising and disarming. Many feelings I have harboured on a number of subjects have become subject to tremendous change or outright rejection. Mostly, I have found a sense of peace with my physical being that I have not had for quite a long time. There are fewer 'flaws' to see and more life and personality. I find way less to find fault with, and more to be happy about- all because I am taking pictures of myself, which is way cheaper than therapy!

Sometimes that old voice nags at me about some silly aspect of myself- too many stretch marks, skin that is starting to look like is almost 40... The voice of 'the man behind the curtain', that silly ego that wants to cause unhappiness to keep its self busy. Ignore him, go mug for the camera!

My 365 pictures

Just Like Riding A Bike

2009-03-31T10:43:00.001-07:00

Traffic Can Be Fun
Originally uploaded by busbozo

Today was 'Bike Rodeo' day at my daughter's elementary school. The YMCA brought out a ton of bikes and helmets for the kids to ride, and spent a couple of hours teaching the kids riding skills they can use on the streets- looking over your shoulder without swerving, sudden stops, right of way... Overall, perhaps one of the more potentially useful lessons these kids will learn this week. I was so happy to see them learning something practical and basic, something kids learned just by being on the block when I was a kid.

Despite my joy at seeing the kids riding around, there were more than a few moments in the morning where the kids were being fed fear rather than knowledge. Right at the beginning, the helmets went on. While I do not wear a helmet (please don't write me to tell me I am crazy- I have my reasons and they are fine for me), I have no problem with others wearing them and insist that my children do, if for nothing else than to keep them from scraping up their faces when they stack- I do not think they will provide any protection in the case of major collisions (again, I have my opinion on this, you have yours- leave it at that). As the instructors fitted the kids with various helmets, I heard one of them telling the kids "this helmet will save your life". Not 'could save your life' or 'will keep you from scraping your face if you fall'- the kids were told, with absolute conviction, that their lives would absolutely be saved. By implication, the instructors sounded as though they knew that today would be the day that death came to visit my daughter's class and that these plastic buckets would fend off the scythe of the Grim Reaper.

So right off the bat, the kids are being conditioned to accept other people limiting their choices and ability to reason through situations by instilling fear as the basis for decision making. As my presence in this class was to take pictures of the kids learning how to ride, I was not in a position to say anything about it, nor was it an appropriate forum for that discussion. But it got me to thinking about how often our kids are controlled by fear, mostly because the adults are all living in fear. Fear of pedophiles and trans fats and lead paint and underachievement and delayed speech and public schools... have turned parents and teachers into peddlers of fear and anxiety. Children who are never allowed out of eyeshot of an adult grow up to be teenagers who can not be off the electronic leash of phones and computers with everyone they know for fear of not being connected to everything at all times.

The worst part is we have marketed this as cool. Fear of the world has become fashionable! Instead of facing our demons we have made them the fodder for talk shows, the basis of indoor play spaces with monitors at the ready with antibacterial wipes, the warning label on matchboxes telling us the contents are flammable. We have made being weak and frightened the epitome of 'fitting in'. We have allowed something as simple and basic as riding a childhood bike to become an activity that calls into question our parenting if we do something as radical as let kids just get on with it and have fun.

How do we turn back the clock on this? Is there a way to teach others the joy of simply allowing the moment to be what it is without catastrophizing it? To 'go with the flow', so to speak. Can we stop this before we paralyze our children's future, a future where they will need to be creative and fearless and brazen on a level most of us have never known? My goodness, I hope so, because we have fallen off and we need to get back on the bike of life without fear for the sake of our kids and ourselves.

A River Runs Through Us

2009-03-12T15:43:00.000-07:00

It has come to my attention that perhaps I should write more often. I always have great ideas at just the point that I have no time! Which on some cosmic level probably means something profound, but in the mundane pursuit of daily life means I don't get much writing done. So, today, I will grab the bull by the keypad and get down to business.

As a result of no longer driving to work, I find I have time to read while I am on BART. Even if riding a bike did nothing else for me, the fact that it has given me back my daily reading time would be enough to keep me pedaling. This week I have been rereading "A River Runs Through It" by Norman Maclean. I would have never guessed that something so beautiful could be written about fly fishing. Nor would I guess that all of the parts of life could be encompassed in such a simple story.

Every time you tell a story, it changes and it is the same when you read a story. Each time it takes on a different tone and you find something else in it. I find, this time, that I am paying a great deal of attention to the words and structure of the story and in doing so, discovered a passage that I had not caught in previous readings-

"But I knew a story had begun, perhaps long ago near the sound of water. And I sensed that ahead I would meet something that would never erode so there would be a sharp turn, deep circles, a deposit, and quietness."

How many times have I just known that something was about to be very different without anything else being terribly out of place? We have all felt that at one time or another- an absolute knowledge that everything is about to change, and like a river crashing through a gorge, there is no stopping it. The one thing that seems to never show in this is the magnitude of what becomes the non-eroding object that redirects the river. What chance encounter or impulse purchase or random book could be that thing that redirects the rest to come?

As I sit here looking at the events around me, it is obvious that we are all in midst of great change. Beyond that, I feel there is something else on the horizon that will redirect the river that is our life- a non-erodible object that will force us to turn and swirl and drop what came before in order to continue downstream.

Convictions

2009-02-26T17:36:00.000-08:00

Here is what I am contemplating these days- how do you live your convictions? Truly, if you think about some of the things that you believe to be important, do you live by those beliefs? At the least, are you trying to get to a place where you could?

I believe a lot of things- charity is good, cars should be used sparingly, patience with children is necessary, eating meat is questionable, recycling should always happen.... How much of this do I live? I yell at my kids, I eat meat, I rarely give to charity (I do not feel that donating unused clothing to Goodwill to be charity). On the upside, I recycle everything I can and I drive very little (sometimes not at all for days at a time). None of these are big things, they should all be doable without breaking a sweat, and yet I do not do them all.

So how do people follow through with the big things? How do monks live a life of celibacy? How do people keep hunger strikes? Or closer to home, how do I live my life in a way that elevates the lives of others instead of exploiting the random nature of geography or political climate? Is it enough to grow my own food (I don't, yet)? If I buy my clothes second hand does this really help?

Could I give someone a kidney? Hell, could I cut off my hair to make wigs for cancer patients? I have difficulty giving my time. In fact, I hate it. For as long as I can remember I have been very protectionist of my time, and yet my time is probably my most valuable asset. My time is the one thing I have that could probably make a real difference in the world around me. When I think of devoting that time to school groups or neighborhood societies or charity walk-a-thons I start to get nervous- my time given to others who have expectations to live up to and rules to follow. In some ways, it would be easier to give a kidney- a finite event that has a distinct beginning and a distinct end after which I am no longer needed.

Were someone to ask me if I feel that I am a 'good' person, I would have to admit to being on the fence with that concept. Can I apply that concept to myself in the face of what is obviously quite self-serving behavior on my part? Whether I should even try to apply it or not is a completely different conversation and I am not going there, tonight.

Perhaps I do live by my convictions- I will extend myself only so far for the benefit of others and the world. So then, I have to decide if I am comfortable with my convictions. Are you? A conundrum to be sure.

The Bat & The Blazer

2009-02-25T21:44:00.001-08:00

The Bat & The Blazer
Originally uploaded by busbozo

Today I am straying a bit from the spiritual path, although, not from the space of seeing the world differently. Maybe that is all 'spirituality' really is, anyway. 'Seeing' from a different place.

While I was out getting coffee today (thank God I have older kids that can watch the younger one for a bit while I sneak out!) I hadn't payed much attention to where I parked my bike. It is the same place I always park. The neighborhood my coffee shop is in is very quiet and all I need is my built on rear wheel lock to keep my bike safe. Several times a week you can see my bike parked there. Today it was parked next to a Chevy Blazer- a ubiquitous 'family' vehicle these days.

As I looked at my bike next to the Blazer, I could really see how much has changed since I started riding as my primary means of transportation. The way I look at cars, and moving from place to place and what I can do under my own power is much different than it was two years ago.

From a pure numbers perspective, there is no argument as to which makes more sense in this economy. Assuming the car is a 2005 model, the average cost, new, averaged about $20,000 once all the various 'options' were included (did you know, on pickup trucks tailgates and bumpers are optional?). While getting exact numbers for insurance on this vehicle are difficult, my family pays $2800 a year to comprehensively insure one car and minimally insure a second. The Blazer of 2005 averaged 15.5 miles per gallon (although I think that is highway MPG, not city). If it has a 20 gallon tank, that is $84 a tank to go 310 miles (back when gas was $4.20 a gallon a couple of months ago. It will be back there, soon). With actual MPG, that is probably more like 250 miles with traffic and load involved, less if the driving was stop start and mostly in the city. Maintenance costs should be applied here, as well. There are others who calculate these things. We can throw in the 3 or 4 parking tickets that this driver can expect to get this year, as well as the other parking fees that will crop up over time.

My Batavus was a pricey bike- $1700 MSRP, although, I only paid $1000 for it. My upgrades to it, to make it more usable (and more comfortable) have cost $385 and have included my panniers and child safety seat. I will never get parking tickets on it, and I keep it in my garage (unlike most cars, including my own). All of it's maintenance is done by either myself or my husband and thus only costs the price of parts. I have put about 1000 miles on it since the beginning of October 2009 (despite a hiatus from riding due to hand surgery), no gasoline. In that time I have lost 13 pounds, and thus, have to buy a new wardrobe (my largest expense since beginning my bicycle commuting odyssey). This weight loss will ultimately keep my health insurance costs down as it keeps my blood pressure and cholesterol down, not to mention keeps my mood up . I buy gasoline so infrequently that I forget when the last time was.

Both of these vehicles are used to transport children. My youngest son rides on a heavy duty seat on the back of my bike. When I am driving my car, I find it difficult to talk to my kids- there is competition from the radio and the road noise and the traffic.... When we are bicycling together, we all get to appreciate our surroundings and my little one chatters away to all of us about what he sees. We stop when we need to, to rest or see something that has caught our eye. Today, we stopped to take pictures of the rain clouds we have been hoping for in San Francisco. In looking for easier routes to our various destinations, we have seen all kinds of things we never do when driving. We have discovered many new adventures on two wheels. In the car, we drive. Period. As a bonus, all of the riding has taught the kids how much work it takes to do things right and the satisfaction that comes with it. There is also no car sickness on a bike.

Driving is usually the faster option, and in a time crunch, is the choice I will make. I have, however, come to love the slower pace of my bike and find I do not mind having to give myself more time to get places as the journey has become so much more pleasant. There is no doubt that I am a more pleasant person on my bike than in my car, as well as happier on arrival.

All of this extends to my family, as well. Transportation is no longer a factor of who will drive. Getting where we need to go is now a family endeavor where everyone takes part. Decisions about how to get where we are going are made as much by the kids as they are by the parents. The needs of the group must be considered. We have to make sure that each of us is able to tackle the path we have chosen and be flexible enough to change mid-path if needed.

From a purely practical perspective, choosing to ride my bike is an obvious one- less expensive, greater fitness, easier storage, less maintenance, lower environmental impact, no oil..... but the greatest benefits, to me, are of a more personal nature and have little to do with practicality. Riding a bike is social and completely experiential. Every time I ride, I am engaged completely with my surroundings and I experience everything (sights, smells, weather, sounds, even emotions) without the filter of a windshield and roll cage. Instead of plowing through the world without touching anything but leather interior, I am an active part of everything around me, and thus, I feel more alive and engaged in the world. Getting around has become a goal in and of its self.

Isn't that what life is supposed to be? A journey whose point is to simply be as it is. Maybe to enjoy the bumps and the wrong turns and the diverted paths.

So then the question becomes, does the owner of the Blazer spend time thinking about how to drive more? Does she write blogs about her car? Is she busy with a second job to make the payments?

Brave New World

2009-01-22T20:49:00.000-08:00

Did you have to read Aldous Huxley in high school? I had to read 'Brave New World'. It was disturbing and not well covered by my not so great Junior year English teacher. Over the last 20 years, I have thought about all those babies in jars being acclimatized to future lives in mines or deserts. The ultimate in social engineering. Combined with '1984' and 'Animal Farm', Huxley and Orwell provided me with a distrust of technology, authority, ignorance and fear of the hell that is created when those things combine.

So here we are, and maybe there really is a brave, new world that we have come to that I don't have to distrust and worry over. Yes, there is much that points to us being in the proverbial hand basket. There is a whole blog of examples I could wrote about that (although I think 'No Impact Man' does that quite well enough.) but from my perspective, there is so much out there that points to the flowering of a society that 'gets it'. There are so many people who are questioning technology, authority and ignorance to make small but profound changes in their lives- growing their own food, choosing neighborhood public schools, listening to music from other countries (never under estimate the power of that, it is where rock and roll came from and the Beatles changed the world), riding bikes to get to work, writing blogs ....

Most importantly, voting for leaders based on the content of their characters, and not the colour of their skins (or shape of their genitalia, for that matter). The world is on the cusp of something, and those who fear it the most are the ones who fight the hardest to stop it (what else could explain the Middle East?). We are racing forward at a sickening pace, I call it accelerated evolution, but sometimes it feels more like the sickness that came from too much spinning as a child (I am going to throw up! Let's do it again!). That feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you the roller coaster is about to start the 5G descent that you would stop if given the chance but really want to do through with. The edges are starting to blur, and the wind is starting to howl in our ears- do we shut our eyes and pray for deliverance or do we throw our hands in the air and hope the camera catches us screaming with joy at the scariest part?

Do we close our fists or hold them open in welcome to this brave, new world?

Not Face to Face(book)

2009-01-04T20:32:00.000-08:00

Just the other day, I was finally convinced to join Facebook. My friend tempted me with embarrassing pictures from high school that she refused to show me unless I joined up. Anyone who knows me knows I am a sucker for this kind of thing. The prospect of seeing just how skinny I was comes in a distant second to wanting to know who in the world would have a picture of me? I don't remember people taking pictures of me, I wasn't the kind of person you took pictures of, whatever that kind of person was. It isn't until quite recently that pictures of me have become common place (and quite frankly, I take most of them myself).

I am utterly confounded by Facebook.

All of those people from the past suddenly at my fingertips. What does one say to all of them? Through this journey of mine I have discovered that I have very little to say. To now have to come up with something to say to so many people is daunting. We haven't seen one another in years and in some cases, decades, but that does not mean there are decades of things to talk about. When you reconnect with people for the first time since the Bush Sr. administration, what exactly do you lead with? There have been careers begun and ended, new careers embarked upon, returns to college, marriages, divorces, children, illnesses... it is a lot to cover with one person, let alone an internet full of them! When does it become too much information and too large an audience? Too interactive?

I started to think about this blog. Is this too much? Most likely not as I suspect I am the only one reading it at this point (feel free to prove me wrong on that!). There is no limit to what I can write here, no editor other than the inner one. I only have to say something once and as many people as deign to stop here can read it without any more energy output from me. One person can ask me a question, and all the others can read my response. I can flush out an idea and explore it fully, without interruption, whereas on Facebook, everything seems to come in fragments of speech and interrupted thoughts interjected at random intervals. It takes a lot of concentration to see past the icons and declarations of 'friendship' and invitations to take quizzes about 'What Kind of Woman Are You' (apparently I am kind and compassionate but allow others to stomp on my feelings, uhm, yeah.).

All of this leads me to wonder what inter- relating to people is coming to mean? People tell me about how easy it is to keep up with people by logging on to social networking websites, but how much are we really experiencing? Who puts up truthful, multidimensional, fully realized information about themselves on a website? We edit what people see by only posting the 'good' picture. Who really talks about the hideous argument they got into with their spouse and instead gloss over it by posting about this weekend's cocktail party? Who has a cup of sugar on the internet? There are no pictures of my heinous stretch marks out there!

I keep walking away from Facebook, puzzled and somewhat lost, even though it is populated by many, many dozens of people I know. My 'conversations' with them, feel hollow and without the vitality of our face to face interactions. More like relationships with word blips than the individuals who wrote them.

Perhaps I am simply outdated. Will I ever feel comfortable in this medium?

Baby and the Bat

2008-10-17T21:56:00.001-07:00

San Francisco is a bicycle city. Everywhere you go, there are swarms of them, even on the insane hills of California street. When stopped at a light in my car, I am usually completely surrounded by urban cyclists. It is interesting to observe. Every type of person can be seen on a bike- twitchy, edgy guys in a big hurry on a fixie; middle aged professionals on hybrids with squishy seats looking nervous about that delivery truck; thrift store girls on old Schwinn three speeds peddling in high heels; older guys with graying beards and old spandex on touring bikes with lots of water bottles (or recumbent set ups with flags)...

The thing about a bicycle is that it becomes very personal. When you ride a bike daily, you start to think of it as almost a part of you- mostly because it is a machine that relies entirely on human input to function and must be fit to its rider exactly in order to function properly. You can tell a lot about a person by looking closely at their favorite bike. Mine are something else. I have two bikes that I consider my favorites- A 21 year old Specialized Rock Hopper Comp that has been modified quite a bit to meet my taste and needs (I have owned it for all but 1 of it's two decades), and a new Batavus Soccorro trekking bike all the way from Holland (it is beeeeeeautiful!) which has received just a few cosmetic changes to suit my taste.

My bikes, while sharing certain traits- upright, european style seating position, rack and luggage set ups that allow me to haul almost anything I would haul on a bike, fenders- are very, very different. My old, beat up, well loved Specialized (Baby) is tacky, there is no getting around it. What Pepto Bismol is to the colour pink is exactly what my bike is to the colour green. Baby has yellow fenders (plastic) and a huge black metal basket hanging off the handlebars. The bell is painted orange with multicoloured flowers painted on it. The blue panniers that hang off the back are the same ones I have had since I first got the bike. When I ride Baby, she makes me happy (try to ignore how that sounds and just go with it). Just looking at Baby makes me smile, her utter silliness is pure joy to me. Baby is regular, old me who can't believe I am not in college any more. Baby wants to ride out to the beach and smoke a fatty.

My new bike (The Bat) is many things, but tacky is not one of them. The Bat is shiny black and brushed silver, with a step through frame that sweeps like a swan's neck. The panniers on The Bat are bright red with a Japanese floral design. The saddle is a deep, lovely brown leather, and the handle grips are lacquered cork. As for the bell, it is brass and sounds like a Tibetan talking bowl. This machine is sleek and architectural and European. Riding The Bat, I have to step up my game and make sure I pay attention to the niceties of grooming and style. The Bat is grown up and focused and much prefers a smoky scotch in a jazz club to a gritty joint.

These are sides that are equally representative of 'me'. I could not pick one over the other. My many sides are only bits of a whole, after all. Some days seem to call to different parts, and I surely do see the world differently from these different 'bicycles'. 'Baby' days are coloured by humor and fun and utter lack of concern for schedules or convention. 'Bat' days are productive and stylish and urban. Both take me all over the place, and each is with me even when left at home. Each teaches me more about myself and how I fit into the grand scheme of things.

Pretty cool for two wheels.

Alan Watts- Music and Life

2008-09-23T15:32:00.000-07:00

I ran across this video while looking around at various "Slow Bike Movement" websites (there is one perma linked in the side bar). There is something about Alan Watts that I really like.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERbvKrH-GC4

Through the Looking Glass

2008-09-04T20:51:00.000-07:00

A woman whom I have come to know somewhat over the months, posed an interesting question to me today- how do you know what is 'you' and what is 'conditioning'? A seemingly simple question, but with a maddeningly difficult answer to come to. How do I know what is what? If I do manage to identify it, then what do I do?

Life hands us a lot of things to process along the way. Some of the lessons leave more deeply ingrained scars than others. Somewhere along the line we learn that it is impolite to interrupt, that crooked teeth should be hidden behind hands or close lipped grimaces, that certain music is bad, that brussel sprouts are gross... We learn how to swim through the stream of life, along with the current, trying to make as few waves as possible. Then BLAMMO! It turns out to all be wrong. Where do you go with that?

For myself, it is interesting. I am a rebel. Not in the sense that I need to appear, outwardly, much different from anyone else. Inwardly, though, I am very much my own person, at least in my own mind. The reading I have been doing lately is on the nature of inter-dependence and how the true nature of all things is one of non-difference and inter-being (a lot of hyphenation in this new world I am finding!). This is a great departure from my normal line of thought. These teachings propose that our base consciousness is derived from many sources, and while we each have our own basic (store) consciousness, it is only a part of the collective consciousness of all beings. Without the collective store, I would not have my conscious, nor would you. Further, without my conscious, the collective conscious would not exist.

This is big stuff. It changes the whole game. Now comes the point past which there is truly no return. And there is no choice but to continue, because the door is open and it is sucking me through. I am Alice, and I have drunk the potion.

Family Tree

2008-08-25T19:43:00.000-07:00

Today I was listening to a dharma talk on the Prajna Paramita, which encompassed a number of interesting things. One of them was the first explanation of 'emptiness' that I have heard that made sense- emptiness is another word for the lack of intrinsic stability in the world of form, or more simply, everything changes so don't get too stuck on it.

The other lesson was this- we are all aggregate manifestations of every circumstance and situation that came before us, or we are completely a product of everything that has ever happened in the universe.

I have no issue with either teaching. They both make complete sense to me, and in a way, are the wording for things I have thought without words for years. What has come from those thoughts is interesting.

When I look at myself, I have tremendous gratitude for all the factors that brought me into this world. While I have made a large effort to study Buddhism, lately, I do not find myself to drawn to the teachings of suffering. There have been difficult times and situations in my life, but I do not feel that I have lived a life of suffering. However, in feeling the gratitude for my life, I started to think about some of the circumstances of the world that allowed me to be born- some of them take some effort to be grateful for.

War- My family is predominantly English, and what isn't English is from some other part of Brittan. My family, on both sides has been profoundly affected by The Battle of Culloden, The Tudor wars, the Boer War, WW1, WW2, and many, many dozens of others. So my gratitude has to go out to not only those who died, but those who killed. My gratitude must extend to not only those who died in the camps, but those who ran them, right up to Hitler himself. I must be thankful for the French sinking English ships, the Russians for killing the Czar, the Vietnamese for ousting the French, the colonists for tossing the tea. I have to thank the Cesears for all they did, and all those that opposed them.

Religion- Romans and Pagans, I must give my thanks to. Pontius Pilot must have equal ranking with Jesus. The Crusader's make the list as does Mohammed. Buddha walks hand in hand with Jim Jones in the ranks. The Pope (s) and Martin Luther..... even King Henry the Eighth (which of his wives could be left out of the story and still have 'me' be here?)

Conquest- All of them can line up, I owe them my life. From Alexander and Genghis Khan, to Teddy Roosevelt and Joseph Stalin. All of them beat and stole and murdered their way to me. Would I be here if Cortez had not sought his fortune?

There are so many 'aggregate circumstances', that make up who I am, and I can't just put in the ones I like. General Custer is as much my ancestor as Crazy Horse, as are all that died that day, and all who lived to tell the tale.

How do I look at history again? Everything I have ever learned, every person I have ever read about it, is my ancestor. Everyone, everything they did is responsible for my life. And yours.

I Am the Ocean

2008-08-15T19:13:00.000-07:00

I am not the boat,
tossed on the ocean.
I am not the bird,
resting in it's waves.
I am the waves,
the movement of the ocean.
I am the ocean.
Let the boat and bird
rest in me.

Bells of Joy

2008-08-08T21:42:00.000-07:00

I am on a total sonic high! Tonight was the Grace After Hours event where the Cathedral stays open for people to come and walk the labyrinth. The entire Cathedral is lit with candles and, tonight had a wonderful woman who sang and played flute. When she played her Indian flute, it echoed so beautifully from all directions of the Cathedral. As I walked I could smell the candles burning and the music wafted around. There were many participants, all regular walkers, so the flow between people passing one another was lovely.

Tonight's walk, for me, was only about getting back to myself, which has, recently, been more challenging than usual. The weather has been horrid- grey, dark, cold, windy- and I have been very affected by it (unusual for me). Many people use visualization in their meditation practices, I use the sense of a window in my chest that I can breath through, to keep my heart open. I found that I had kept this window quite tightly closed, recently, without paying attention. When I went to 'open' that space, I found it quite uncomfortable, with a dull pain in my sternum. Funny how that works. I found it preoccupied me, so when the walk was over, I felt as if I had missed something.

Just after leaving the labyrinth, the hosts of the walk started placing brass hand bells around the walk. They were for the end of evening 'Harmony Walk'. I had never done this before, so I was intrigued. There were several bells, all tuned to one another to create amazing chords no matter which are rung or in what order. Walkers can ring their bells whenever they like, they can put them down for someone else to use, or walk with no bell at all should they choose.

Walking with 20 others, bells ringing, candles glowing... it was pure, simple, bliss. The chords the bells created actually vibrated in my head and hands and feet and off the walls... I walked in utter amazement and joy. I was so happy with the walking and the sound it made other people laugh when they passed me. Every now and then, a particularly lovely chord would spontaneously sound and make me just stop in my tracks and smile with my toes.

What an awe inspiring event. I can't believe how fortunate I am to have been able to participate in it.

Wow.

Expectations

2008-07-21T23:34:00.000-07:00

Without noticing it, you too may be suffering from the myriad ways in which expectations can undermine your life. I call it the tyranny of expectations. They plague your daily life, causing you to be irritable, disappointed, and disillusioned. Many times they lead you to say unkind words, act unskillfully, or make poor decisions. Expectations are so insidious that you can persist in maintaining them even after you have clear evidence that they are unfounded.- excerpt from an article by Philip Moffitt

I read this the other day. Good food for thought. Expectations go hand in hand with assumptions, both more than happy to make asses of us all.

What are the expectations that I have that are sabotaging me? It is difficult to say, especially as I have to really think about what expectations I have of any type. Waking up tomorrow morning probably ranks up there pretty high. Not sure that I am blocked from making progress in life by that assumption, though. Some level of assuredness that tomorrow will in fact arrive with me as a passenger is required to have a certain base level of structure in my personal day. Without that faith, why clean the bathroom?

Here is a good one! I expect myself to be open to others. Am I? Nope. It drives me crazy when someone doesn't get it, whatever the 'it' is. This does not mean I want others to agree with me, only that I want them to show some understanding and growth in the subject (of course this is based on my opinion of what growth and understanding are). This is something that can make interpersonal communication difficult (the attraction of the blog- one way monologue).

How do you get rid of expectations? Is it even possible? I expect that it is.

I Am So Not Zen

2008-07-19T22:48:00.000-07:00

Over the years, I have been a great many things. A bit like that Bugs Bunny cartoon where he and Elmer Fudd swim around in a sea of hats and take on the persona that each one represents. I have fewer questions, these days, but a deeper need to study them. So, I am exploring some of the many paths of belief. The most recent of these, is Zen Buddhism at the absolutely beautiful San Francisco Zen Center. I listen to their dharma podcasts on my Ipod, all the time.

As the title may suggest to you, I did not click with Zen.

There are so many rules. I get their general purpose, to keep you focused and in the present, but holy cow. Walk in the door this way, walk out that way. Turn clockwise. If this bell rings wait here, but first take off your shoes while you stand with your back to the mat. Sit anywhere you like, but not here, or here, or here, or here.... and whatever you do, do not sit on anything
brown. Sit this way, but not that way. If the 'senior Dharma student' enters the room....

I do not respond well to that much structure. Due to genetic programming I have to follow a rule once I know about it, but with that many rules, I can't breath trying to follow all of them (which is the focus of the meditation class I was there for, after all). Despite listening to a very good, and timely , dharma discussion with the Abbott, about acceptance of the situation at hand, I was very happy to get out of there.

Here's the kicker- during the meditation class, I had to use a second cushion in order to sit comfortably, and there was a perfectly good one right in front of me. The meditation instructor, a Buddhist priest, said nothing about it. When the dharma talk was a few minutes from starting, an older nun came to me and whispered that I was sitting on the senior dharma student's cushion. I apologized and got off it immediately. Apparently, both of my cushions belonged to the senior dharma student. So I put the other one where I had found it, thinking the whole time 'why didn't the meditation instructor say anything?' So then this nun tells me they need to be fluffed! OK. I fluff. An hour later, the discussion is over, I can't feel my feet because of the position I was forced into by not being able to replace either cushion with one that was sanctioned for my use, and not only has the nun who kicked me off my cushion (very politely) slept through the whole talk, but so has the senior dharma student!

I will sit on the seats at the back of the room if I go to a dharma talk again. I am definitely not cut out for Zen.

Too Much Information

2008-07-17T01:07:00.000-07:00

Somehow, it has happened. I have read too much.

The list of books I have read recently has exceeded reason.

A New Earth- E. Tolle
The Power of Now- E. Tolle
The Seeker's Guide- Elizabeth Lesser
True Love- Thict Naht Hanh
Peace Is Every Step- T.N.H.
Meditation In Action- Chögyam Trungpa Rimpoche
Why We Can't Wait- Martin Luther King, Jr.
A House for Mr. Biswas- V.S. Naipaul
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay- Michael Chabon

The list of books to start is equally improbable

On the Road- Jack Kerouac
Underworld- Don DeLillo
The Dancing Wu Li Masters- Gary Zukav
Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind- Shunryu Suzuki

There is a good possibility that I will develop some kind of syndrome from all of this. Too much thinking is bad, but I wonder if too much change in thinking could be the same.

Time to read 'The Dark Night' graphic novel. Comic books always help.

Who Am I?

2008-07-14T17:43:00.001-07:00

Nature vs. nurture. The question of the century. Which is it? Is it either? Will my answer make the sign turn over while the bells wring or will the cosmic buzzer blow a raspberry at me?

My travels down the road of spiritual inquiry have brought me, today, to this question. How much of who I am on a daily basis is a result of the past and my accumulated experiences, and how much is simply who I am no matter what swirls around my life? What is 'Little Me' and what is 'Big Me'? There seem to be a lot of opinions on this.

Eckhart Tolle talks a lot about 'my story' and how we all allow ourselves to be self-defined by the accumulated events of our lives. His teachings are that the story may be very engaging, but that there is no way that the past can dictate you current moment. That using the stories of the past as your only means of living in the present moment is an illusion as the past is gone, and this moment demands to be met on its own terms. As an example, as a child I was introduced to an older man who wanted me to hold onto his genitals while he drove the car (I chose to sit in the back seat). As an adult, if I were to interact with all men as though they were about to ask me to be sexually inappropriate with them (no matter what the actual interaction was), I would not, in fact, be interacting with the man facing me at that moment. I would still be interacting with the man I met 30 years ago. This would be true for more positive interactions, as well. I loved going to the beach when I was younger because the freedom of the sand and the surf was intoxicating. When I take my children to the beach, I remember those days on the beach, and I try to reenact those events (from the past) for them, and ultimately, for myself. That interaction with past experiences that block our ability to act in the present is what Tolle would call the interaction of the 'little me'. I try very hard to keep 'my story' to a minimum- to be honest, the story has become increasingly boring and unnecessary. I am tired of it.

Buddhism has many things to say on the matter. When we forget, or simply do not recognize that there is no separation between us and the objects around us and that what we see is the illusory projection of form, we are doomed to reenact our mistakes and never rise to a place of lessened suffering. To ever get to a state of awakened awareness, one must learn to feel the presence of the 'emptiness' that exists beneath all physical entities and how that connects us to the earth, the universe and everything in it. That 'emptiness', which is not 'empty' in the sense of there being nothing there only in the sense that it is empty of the emotions that we call happiness, fear, sadness, elation.... and the physical forms with which we are familiar, is the foundation for life as we know it. It can not be destroyed, it can not be changed, it can not be negated. This is a surprisingly tough concept to accept, sometimes. We are so programmed to be 'individuals' and to be proud of our 'difference'. Anything that could possibly remove any iota of our difference is dangerous (the basis of the communist scares of the 1950's). Not only are we each different, but we are also constantly changing. That there could be any part of us that is unchangeable (and therefore, uncontrollable), is untennable- Of course, any part of us can be changed at any time, because we are completely in control of everything in us. And yet, if we drop the need to be in control, the need to change for just a little bit, there is great comfort in knowing that there is something within that is constant and strong and unyielding without need or impetus to 'evolve' or control. A part of us that simply exists for no other reason than to do so.

Then there are those who believe in the Descartes school of being- I think, therefore, I am. This was my school of thought for many years. A constant need for more information, new books, new ideas, interesting concepts to keep me occupied for hours and days at at time. College was a huge feed into this line of belief, for me. Sitting in one lecture and having information from another lecture suddenly 'click' with the new topic had a physical feeling for me. I craved it, I was excited and happy to 'get it'. I liked studying because it meant new information to assimilate and interpret and utilize and file away for later. It all felt like I was 'me' because my mind is where I felt 'I' resided. For the past few years, I have found my desire to engage my intellect has become much less forceful. There has not been the need to understand much, and this has caused me some concern. I have wondered if there is something wrong with me, but then Bono came up with the lovely lyric 'the more you live the less you know. The less you find out as you go. I knew much more then, than I do now."

There have been the various religious teachings that say that we are nothing but sinful bodies that must be resisted and denied. How does anyone live like that? I have always been flummoxed by the idea of self abuse in the name of God (or any kind of abuse, for that matter).

For myself, I experience my core self to be a constant. The 'eye' that has been looking out at the world from inside me is exactly the same as when I was little. The layers that surround it have changed some of their interpretations and interactions. What surprises me is how complicated it can all get when you don't pay attention to those layers, and how easily the way we, I, fall into communication based in an unintentional lie. How shocking it is to find the lie, but how lightening it is to put it down. So many layers over so many years.

How do we walk around with all of this hanging on us, or is that part of the illusion of life? Can we just put all of it down, because it isn't there in the first place? The Emperor's new clothes?

Does that leave me naked and blogging about spirituality? Not sure where to go with that...

Demons, Fire and Light

2008-07-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Riding back from lovely Coalinga, Ca (a place that can cure anyone of a desire for meat) the other day, James and I were listening to the radio. I was enjoying the 80's-90's feel of it, I knew the lyrics to almost all of the songs. 'Cult of Personality' by 'Living Colour' came on, and I started to sing along. I have heard this song hundreds of times since it came out, and I have always been taken by the lyrics. When it first came out, I was surprised to hear the band put Joseph Stalin in with Mohandas Gandhi. Kinda edgy.

A few days later, I found myself in a discussion with some friends about the colourful life of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, founder of the Naropa Institute and Shambhala training. Through this discussion I was surprised to witness how much many people invest in the leaders of the different branches of Buddhism. Granted, Trungpa was an enigmatic individual who left a tremendous disturbance and impression wherever he went. There are many stories of his life and the colourful people in it. He has been accused of sexual inappropriateness, violence, fiscal malfeasance, lying... He was an open alcoholic, showing up for many public talks obviously drunk. He was wild, but he never made an excuse of it.

In listening to the song in the car, certain lyrics stick out as appropriate to Trungpa-

Neon lights, a Nobel prize
The mirror speaks, the reflection lies
You don't have to follow me
Only you can set me free

Did anyone ever really 'see' him, or did they simply see a reflection of what they thought he should or shouldn't be? Of course there were those who could not see beyond the behavior, and they tend to feel that Trungpa was a hindrance to Buddhism in America. However, there are just as many who couldn't see beyond his teachings. Some were so enamored of his words, that they couldn't see the danger in his behavior, and followed along with it, much to their detriment.

Isn't that what the 'cult of personality' comes down to? Someone who's personality and charisma overshadows all around them and thus distorts the vision of those they influence. Sometimes, to such an extent, that true interpretation of their thoughts and actions becomes impossible for those who can not get beyond the spell.

I have an innate distrust of almost all religious and spiritual leaders, so I don't really expect much out of them. There has never been a point where I have felt a need to know much about the lives of most leaders, of any type. Either what they say speaks to me, or it doesn't. If they have something I want to learn, I listen to the lesson and then move on with the process of understanding it if I can. Learning too much about the teacher seems to just cloud things up. If the purpose of a teacher is to point to the truth, then that is all we need them to do. Until this point, M. Gandhi was the only exception to the rule, but now I have to put in Trungpa, too

You gave me fortune
You gave me fame
You gave me power in your gods name
I'm every person you need to be
I'm the cult of personality

Do any of these leaders take what they end up with, or do we just give it to them blindly? I think it is more the latter, and if that is true, then why do we get angry at them for using what we give them? Trungpa's life, for me, seems more like the lesson than a lot of his words. He drank himself to death by the age of 48, but in the meantime, he started a movement that reverberates to this day, in some ways more clearly than it did when he was alive. He was a boorish lout, at times, but he also founded a University. He believed, and taught thousands of others to also believe, that peace is a place that we can put here on Earth, even though he obviously struggled daily with finding peace within himself. What an amazing lesson, from a man. Not a Saint. A man with demons and fire and light.

Heart (by feralkat)

2008-07-07T22:05:00.000-07:00

A new post from our wonderful, feralkat!!

Heart

The heart can understand what the mind contemplates. The feeling of having an “open heart” is a recognition of the true essence of the moment. The heart can also close, and then the mind begins to construe thoughts that actually carry consciousness farther away from truth. You know how it feels, rumination in your belly, you know how it has a sense of urgency, it is like a veil over the truth the heart knows. When you feel the truth of your heart, your sense of awareness opens, and becomes boundless, becomes gentler, and any sense of deficiency is dissolved while filling up the spaces where the questioning mind leaves traces. Being is never made smaller when mind rules, only the idea that being is smaller impersonates truth. Behind that is the vastness of space and the realm of heart.

If the sense of yourself becomes contracted, smaller, limited, incomplete, you can feel that way and be led by those feelings. But when you feel the fullness of the heart it is like viewing a reality so vast that it stops thinking for a time and there is stillness, quiet, peace. The truth of what exists here and now.

If you know your heart, it will tell you by it’s movement whether a truth you are experiencing is erroneous. If you hold onto an erroneous idea, your sense of who you are will align with that idea as long as the idea is held. Ideas can enhance perception or limit it, but ideas closely aligned with truth are larger, exist beyond the constraints of one small mind.

The simple fact of existence is both routine and profoundly mysterious. Heart is there throughout, either expanding or contracting in a subtle sense that is felt through changes in both physical and spiritual being. You know when something touches your heart, you also know when something stimulates your mind. If you accept that you are perfect just as you are, the heart will expand and relax, if you listen to an inner dialogue that tells you that your being isn’t “good enough” the heart will close, and if you ask yourself, you will find you know exactly what that means.

Who “I” am is always changing, shifting, like the inhalation and exhalation of breath. A sense of neutral ground which neither expands nor contracts will not effect the heart, it is like no-mans-land. Open-hearted feeling need not be judged. It is appropriate to experience your heart opening when you touch upon a profound truth, it is also appropriate to experience your heart closing when you touch upon a limiting concept.

The heart is true in an instant, with no constraints on its sensibility, it will always reveal where truth resonates. If you tell your heart something that is true, it will respond, likewise if you tell your heart something that is not true, such as telling yourself you are inadequate or whatever, it will contract respectively. Judging is a way of dealing with the uncomfortable, and it is not a fault but rather a learned response to holes in your background, upbringing, education. Even positive judgments reflect the idea that we are limited, while the truth itself is unlimited. What really is important becomes evident, it depends on where you are coming from. For example, if you spent a good deal of life focused on thoughts and ideas, then when you experience true emotion it may feel like an awakening. In contrast, if you have been practicing meditation techniques for example, then the emotions such as anger or joy or whatever, can seem to be a contraction rather than an expansion. It is important to know where you are, and you can know by just looking, seeing, feeling, recognizing. No one but you can have your individual perspective, no one can duplicate your essence, just like no one can sleep or eat for you. (except your mama when you are an embryo/fetus). You can trust your heart. It is always accurate, and can show you how true any choice you make is, like whether to come or go, whether to buy that item or not, whether to eat another helping or not, whether to make friends or relationships with another or not.

Adding to this, is the store of unconsciously strongly held beliefs about yourself, about the state of existence, about values, etc. They create a perpetual motion that is pervasive. That’s why moments of clarity seem so rare, What can you do about it? Nothing, it is what it is, the most and best you can do is to embrace it. To have compassion, and to accept the grace of being.

feralkat

Air Supply

2008-07-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

Air. It is all around us, it enters us every moment. We hardly ever think about air, unless there is something wrong with it- today is a 'Spare the Air' day because the conditions are correct to let air pollution collect at acutely toxic levels. Even then, we only think about the impact of polluted air on us as individuals. We don't contemplate the air its self. The practice of mindful breathing has us focus on the feeling of breathing, or focusing the breath to parts of the body to achieve different outcomes. It is a wonderful practice that has done me a world of good. So now, with all the mindful breathing I am doing, these days, I am thinking about air.

While meditating the other day, it came to me that the breeze around me is that very thing I am trying to tap into- universal force. It made perfect, total sense. Air is invisible, we only ever 'see' the results of the presence of, or the lack of, it. When on the move, air is a powerful force that can move ships across oceans or blow houses down. Air can fit in any space, no matter the size, and you have to try damn hard to keep it out. We blow it into floaty inner tubes, and hold it when we drive through tunnels. We can't last more than a few minutes without it, and yet we take it for granted to the point of almost never noticing it.

The meditation I was doing was a healing one, of sorts, loosely based on the 'soft belly meditations' of Stephen Levine. I have some quite old, and now degenerating spinal injuries. The injuries themselves can be challenging enough, but over the years, my body has learned to store my stress in those spots, which compounds the issue. As I tried to envision my pain leaving my body with my breath (having wrapped it up with the breath I just took in), it occurred to me, that I was releasing my pain to the wind, the air. That I was allowing the universal presence to take my pain from me. At that moment, I knew that from now on, I would always be able to give my troubles to the wind, to blow them away (assuming I can let them go in the first place, which is why I am trying all of this new stuff).

As I 'gave my pain' to the wind, another thought came to me- I am considered to have 'chronic pain' (I loath the very sound of that!!!). Many, if not most people, who suffer with chronic pain get very little relief from conventional medicine, and usually end up with powerful pain medications that wreak havoc on the body over the long term (I will do anything to never be on any narcotic pain medication). So much of the pain that they feel is tied up with stress and depression. What if that pain that just will not go away is really the pain of the world? Pain from an over burdened Earth, polluted by the billions of people who demand their pound of flesh daily? All of us breathing it in, all of us breathing it out. Constantly recycling all of that energy. In giving my pain to the wind, do I have to make sure I do not contribute any more pain to the world so that the wind will always be able to blow my pain away? In the language of Ekhart Tolle, can I be the space for that pain so that one day, I can be free of it?

Today, as I rode my bicycle home from work, I found myself cycling into the headwind that seems to follow me everywhere. Trying to bike up the hills to my home, bent into the wind and tired, I started to beg the universe for just one block without the heavy resistance. So, of course, I got one doozy of a gust right in the kisser that nearly knocked me of my bike. I realized, I was getting some serious 'emptiness' thrown at me, and I remembered to give my pain, or in this case my fatigue, to the wind. But I also realized, I could breath all of that awesome spirit into myself and get my energy from that- breath in energy, breath out fatigue. Spirit in, spirit out. Universe in, universe out.

I made it all the way home (the last 4 miles of a twenty mile round trip commute) with no need to stop, not out of breath, full of the spirit of the wind. Full of the presence of the universe.

Notice the air. Spare the air. Respect the air.

Mile Rock Beach

2008-07-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

This is a post I wrote on a discussion forum. I thought it would work well here. I have walked labyrinths many times over the years, but just recently started walking them as a formal meditation. I have found them to be very helpful in my practice, and for whatever reason, walking the labyrinth gives me great focus and a much deeper meditation experience. The labyrinth in this post is found at Mile Rock Beach near Land's End, here in SF. Labyrinths can be found all over the world, in multiple cultures and have a several thousand year old history. I highly recommend trying one (my kids love them!).

I took the kids to the labyrinth at Mile Rock Beach, here in San Francisco. You have to work to get there! Maybe a quarter of a mile of steep stair case and some mild rock scrambling. This labyrinth is situated on a cliff overlooking a sea lion and sea bird sanctuary, so as I walked the lab. there were flocks of pelicans flying just at the lip of the cliff (the edge of the labyrinth is only a foot from the edge!) It is made from the stones found around the site. Just off shore to the west is a light house with a fog horn that sounds every minute. To the north, the Marin headlands on the other side of the bay outlet to the Pacific Ocean. To the east, the confluence of Marin and San Francisco with the Golden Gate Bridge between them and Angel Island in the background. The sky was the most amazing blue with large clouds flying by, leaving shadows on the deep blue ocean. All around, crows and seagulls and pelicans drifting on the breeze. At the base of the cliff, a rock strewn beach with sea weed swaying in the waves.

The kids decided to walk first (my 3 yo kept trying to 'beat' them to the end). They were both so much calmer after. I really need to get them out to do this more often! When they were done, they decided to climb the rocks and off they went. It was my turn.

I have been pondering many things lately, as some here could attest to. I have had a difficult time trying to assimilate some concepts that something in me tells me I need to understand. These ideas we throw around about presence and the now are so much bigger than I had thought them to be. So much more foundation shaking, and frankly, I have been a bit blind sided by them.

Today's journey to the center of the labyrinth held at least some of the answers. I have been resisting the idea of emptiness being the foundation upon which our forms are projected. The idea of life as illusion... uncomfortable. Today I got a glimpse of the joy of this. Without the emptiness, without the foundation of all things, we could not have this incredible experience called life. We may create our realities through the mental projections we put out into the world, but emptiness (formless, presence, God, the Ultimate...) props up that 'illusion' by giving it structure. By giving me structure. While I may return to presence when I die, for now I am here, and I know that is to be in this place, in this time with this body. I know that I am here to experience all that form has to offer, to think all the thoughts that come into my head, to feel all the emotions that swirl around my heart.

There is no need to worry about egos. They are part of the ride. If I identify with mine from time to time, it's ok- it is, after all, mine, and it has been given to me for a purpose beyond over coming it. I know this.

I am solid. I am free.

Lamaze for Life

2008-06-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

We create each other’s reality, every day. What we choose to share (in the moment) creates our current realities, and therefor shapes the reality of the person we share with. With the end of that interaction comes the death of that reality, and indeed, that person. Every interaction is a reincarnation, a chance to be a new person. Every interaction is in fact the whole life cycle- birth, growth, expansion, stasis, retraction, death. We live multiple life times, everyday. When someone thinks about us, we are reincarnated there. We die at the end of the thought.

How do I feel about this? Who have I been today? Mom, protector, commuter, chef, laundress, seeker, referee, pain in the ass, lady that cut me off without her turn signal, drinker of tea... Each of these incarnations has been born, has lived, has died today. Repeatedly.

It makes sense to me why we become less present in our lives. With the scattering of communities, we are each stretched farther and farther to interact every day. For myself, I raise three children, sustain a marriage, maintain a career, juggle friends... every one of these relationships demands different parts of me, and really, different 'Me's'. I am a bit like a telephone operator, jumping from line to line- birth, death, birth, death.... The requirement of breathing, takes on even greater importance.

Somewhere along the line, I learned that the root word for respiration (breathing) is 'espiritu', spirit. When we inspire (breath in) we take in spirit, and let spirit back out to the universe when we expire (breath out). Spirit in, spirit out. We need that exchange of spirit to give us strength to live, and die, every minute of every day. When we pay attention to our breathing, we are recognizing the spirit we exchange with the universe and showing it the respect it deserves. In turn, it gives us the ability to ride through all those birth pains.

What's the Difference?

2008-06-29T01:43:00.000-07:00

Somewhere along the line, It came to me that I like boys. It wasn’t an active realization, I never sat down and thought ‘who will I be attracted to? Who should I be attracted to?’ My first crush was on my parent’s friend, Eric. He looked like Leif Garret (remember him, circa 1975?). What if, instead of Leif, my first crush had been Farrah Fawcett (they both had the same hair, he he he!)?

What if my path had been as a gay woman? Would I be a fundamentally different person? As I have never identified myself, primarily, through my sexual self, my answer is no. Many in the spiritual community would say sexuality is form and not an aspect of our true selves. Many in the religious community would say that homosexuality is a choice to turn away from God, and therefor, the answer would be yes, I would be fundamentally different- I would be damned (which is always a possibility no matter which team you bat for).

One Buddhist ideal of non-duality states that if heterosexuality and homosexuality are opposites, that they each must have the other in order to exist. Each has the qualities of the other and as such ‘inter-are’ . There is no difference (separateness), so here, I would still be the same basic person I am now, and if you didn’t like me, too bad. We are each the other so all of us is at least part gay (would this explain the modern ‘metro sexual’?)

Of course, another Buddhist principal states that my physical and mental being are simply projections of form on my formless being. In a nutshell, I (as a physical entity) don’t really exist, and therefor can not be either gay or straight. I don’t lean on this belief, myself. I am a physical entity for a reason, and at least part of that reason is to have someone who is turned on by the skimpy undergarments I bought last week!

From a personal perspective, I don’t give a fig leaf over who anyone sleeps with. If you aren’t sleeping with me, then I don’t need to know the details. From the perspective of consciousness, it is a great jumping off point from which to practice the principals of universal oneness. Being gay, isn’t like being black or white or Chinese. There is no unifying set of physical features that make up ‘gay’ like there are for being ‘Caucasian’. Gay people look like me. I look at someone and I can see that she is East Indian and now I can instantly, subconsciously identify in just what ways she is different from me. I can not see her sexuality. Here is a difference (if indeed there are differences) that must be experienced. There in lies the rub. It isn’t an easy label to apply and takes some thought to come to , not to mention, up close interaction.

Isn't that the spiritual journey when you get down to it? Can any of us truly follow the path to enlightenment as long as we hold on to the fear of 'the other'. No path can be fully explored unless it bisects the paths of others. Those intersections are where the real learning happens. That is when we 'see' that all of us are the same- all of us fabulous and fierce and free to love.

HAPPY PRIDE DAY! CONGRATS TO THOSE GETTING MARRIED IN CALIFORNIA!!

Courage (by feralkat)

2008-06-28T10:07:00.000-07:00

Courage. It can't be found in formless pursuit or in forms laced to the bone of my ankle. Freedom has been hardly known, rarely practiced, wound up in clanking, honking duties.

We have all been forewarned since childhood to hurry, time's passing by, still, sometimes the beauty of a vanished moment can be more encompassing than a present awareness of the now. And if you are looking at a painting, or serving up a gourmet meal, it can be both here and/or not to be here. Commitment, due diligence, ambition are noble enough, but only when touched by grace do they rise above the mundane into a place of deeper understanding. With new awareness comes an intolerance for complacency, to make room for enthusiasm.

But that's not enough sometimes. We already don't like it because of the intolerance factor. There's already a dichotomy. From the simplicity of nature, the Huntress Goddess looks at the charred bones of the feast and would rather see a living bison. It's not the awareness, but the intolerance that is intolerable in the awareness. Until the intolerance thunder-cloud rolls on.

You have to break in your new shoes before you can walk comfortably in them. We want to be perfectly beyond intolerance and here come the ghosts marching down Bourbon Street blaring jazz that you can hear above the white noise of the buzzing traffic. All these centuries worth of programming from expectancies, from learning, from knowledge, experience, reaction, genetics, conditioning - like a nightmare they come out howling and dancing around a bonfire in the moonlight, a couple of shadowy gremlins with blood-dripping grins emerge, yes, it can be that grotesque. It's undeniably a fight to stay alive.

Courage, to bludgeon the darkness, but even sometimes just to take a baby-step into the light, the blinding light, with no dilution. Those old ideals of perfection, those are the last straw, the one that breaks the camel's back. You were born just this last Spring and you haven't seen a season like summer or winter yet before. And even in the present our instincts have an awareness of changes, we can trust the sunrise and sunset to happen once each every day of our consciousness. Courage, not with a mask like the Lone Ranger, overblown with hard-ridin' horses and yelping sharp-shooters, but as a process of living, of bringing hotly brilliant vibrant energy through the ever-so-resistant belly push-button solar plexus. That deep spot where the body knows things the mind doesn't know, because it's always computing. A place where the belly button does not negate, but rather, accepts the full garden of intellect and all it's potential seeds because the solar plexus is non-judgmental. Be courage fueled by awakening, in whatever you do, think and say.

Ch Ch Changes

2008-06-27T18:12:00.001-07:00

How does one deal with the changes that occur when we start peeling away the layers of junk that settle on us over the years? I have been asking myself this a lot, lately. At first I thought that getting rid of some of the layers of social pressure, inevitable parental damage, self delusion... would make the load lighter. As it turned out, peeling some layers off just revealed the demons that they were holding down- squirming, kicking, howling demons! While I may be a timeless presence in a transient form, I still have to deal with my transient form, and it is a mess!

What was the most surprising was the depression and sense of isolation that I developed. OK, I was equally amazed by how much pain my ego inflicted on me. Not just emotional pain, there was that, but actual physical pain and dysfunction. I had a knotted up ball of muscle in my back and neck that made me unable to lift my right arm for several days! As the layers of distraction dropped away and I found television and radio and computers almost completely irrelevant, I found myself in a state of withdrawal for my former life. Without the distractions of electronics and entertainment, or indeed normal social life, I felt at loose ends. Everyday conversation became largely meaningless, so there was no idle chit chat with my co-workers. The friendships I had cultivated for many years, some for decades, held no attraction for me. There was no one to talk to, as there had always been before.

Back to the pain. I am serious when I say I couldn't use my arm. Being a Physical Therapist Assistant, I tried to diagnose myself. Had I slept strangely? I knew I had a severely impinged nerve, and some horrible spasms in the muscles surrounding my spine, but why? Why wouldn't it go away? Nothing I did helped, nothing my PT friends did helped and I was starting to get frightened.

While driving to work, one morning (one handed), I felt the need to turn off the radio and just sit with my feelings. As I quieted my mind, I suddenly thought about my husband and my inner voice said very clearly 'I don't want this relationship any more'. That is a damn powerful statement! In the past, I would have panicked and gone through a million reasons why I was wrong for thinking that way, and of course I still want this relationship, and how could I even think that when James is such a wonderful man, and my kids need a father..... This time I just sat with the thought without judgement and let it unfold.

Indeed, I didn't want this relationship, anymore. Over the weeks leading up to this day, James had lost his job and was always home. He had always worked very late which left me to myself in the evenings after the kids went to bed. Now, he was always there and I never had a moment to myself. I felt claustrophobic and put upon. It wasn't my relationship to my husband I didn't want, it was my relationship to my lost time. I was all twisted up over the fact that my alone time, which I have always used to connect with myself, was gone, and therefore, to some extent, so was I. Except that I wasn't. I was alone in my car, communing with myself, no husband. How completely stupid! For almost 5 years I had wanted James to be home more, and now that I had it, I was letting it make me sick!

With this realization came complete relief. I could almost see the pain leave my body, and my arm worked perfectly. How insidious the ego is! How unconscious I was, especially in the middle of a quest for consciousness! Aaaargh!

At least now, if I come out of meditation with pain, or have pain (always in my 4th thoracic vertebra) that I can not relieve with conventional methods, I know there is something I need to deal with coming up from my rapidly evolving self. There can be no shrinking away from the issue, it must be faced without emotion in order to get to the root of it- and the root is almost always something silly.

My Journey Begins

2008-06-25T23:23:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, I was watching the Oprah Winfrey show. I am almost never home at that time of day, but I was sick and didn't want to read. Oprah started talking about her book club selection, A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle. She was announcing the online class that she was going to do with him for each of the ten chapters of the book and how she hoped that it would be the biggest online classroom in history. I was intrigued by the idea of a world wide classroom, dedicated to a book about finding... the inner world that each of us shares . Something about that idea completely hooked me, and suddenly I realized that I had been waiting for something like this to come along for quite a long time.

Because I was new to the spiritual quest, I decided to take it slowly. Only one chapter a week was going to be covered, so I would only read one chapter a week. That first chapter changed everything, although, at the time, I didn't know it. Reading along, I kept thinking that I was nuts for starting this. Tolle kept talking about 'ego' and 'labeling' and how the world was insane because of the collective lack of consciousness. He kept talking about how dysfunctional our minds are, and how thinking was a huge problem for the world. This was a huge problem for me! I am a thinker by birth, from a long line of thinkers. My whole life I have wished more people would think more often!

Despite my misgivings, something stuck in my head. What if he was right? I had been thinking all these wonderful things, and yet, for several years, I had grown increasingly dissatisfied with what my life was becoming. In tiny, sneaky increments, I had become totally separate from myself. Work was a place my body went to to do things for other people. My brain was raising my kids, but my desire was to be alone. Marriage had become this anchor that wouldn't let me sail out of port. I no longer read the books that had always been my great joy, and instead buried myself in mindless television and never missed an episode of "Extra" (I just loved seeing the stars fall from grace. Serves them right!). In other words, I had stopped showing up for life. Some days, I would start arguments with my husband just to feel alive (I still need to apologize for that)!

I was coming up hard and fast on a great truth- my mind had been running amok my whole life, telling me all kinds of lies and misinterpretations and falsehoods. My inner world was my own private cult and I was following the false prophet of my brain without reservation (amazing I never gave out flowers at the airport!). I was learning that the true me, the part I was born with, that had no societal overlays or patina, was being smothered by my out of control intellect in a manner similar to my partner choking on the couch right next to me without my noticing it because I was too absorbed in the TV. I needed to get myself in line.

I had no idea how challenging this would be. Had I, I doubt I would have started this journey.

As I continued to read the book, take the classes, and chat on line on the book club boards, I started to see myself much differently. I struggled with the sudden changes that made me feel as if all my internal organs had been removed from me and put back crooked. Strong opinions, intellectual pursuit, and convictions had been my cornerstones, and now I was learning that this seemingly strong foundation was in fact sinking in the sand. Becoming aware that most of what goes on in my head is the brain's version of Muzak was stressful, because, once I became aware of it, I had to work at quieting it down. Once things were quiet, I found all kinds of junk that had been covered up by the noise- and all of it needed to be dealt with.

Since that point, I have bumbled along, experimenting with meditation, finding other spiritual authors to read, discussing some of it with others (mostly online). I have had some dark moments- two weeks of depression a couple of months ago, periodic waves of anxiety dreams that seem to come in the period just before I have a breakthrough about something, and distancing from my old life and a lot of the people I love... There have been some amazing times, as well- learning walking meditations from Thict Naht Hanh, discovering the calm under the storm that to this point has been Adrienne, finding a deep appreciation for my family and the simple fact that they exist, and meeting some amazing people who have helped me to think more clearly (hopefully, some of them will post here soon!)...

My journey is just beginning, but already I can tell, it will never really end. As I 'see' more, I 'find' more. Maybe that is what the meaning of life really is- a life of learning to 'see' in order to live a life of 'finding'. Guess we'll all find out. Hopefully, together!!

Here We Go

2008-06-25T22:23:00.000-07:00

Well. Here I am. I have now officially started a blog. So where to begin?

My name is Adrienne, and I find myself in the beginning stages of a spiritual journey that has already changed my life irrevocably. With these changes, I have found a need to share my experiences with others, but few to share them with. I have met others, like myself, who wish for supportive environments in which to share their experiences. With a little luck, this will be a place we can all come to to share what we are learning.

This is a space for any who wish to join. The only requirements are these-

1) In the words of Elizabeth Lesser, a fearless spirit with which to live in the mystery.

2) A desire to share openly, honestly and respectfully with others, your journey to the self.

3) A recognition that all paths lead to enlightenment. This is about your journey, not your opinion about someone else's.

4) A need to explore - giving, energy, ethics, meditation, patience and wisdom.

If this sounds interesting to you, then blog away!! Send blog submissions to busbozo@gmail.com. The only posts that will not be published are those that are attack natured (sorry I have to put that in, but something about the spiritual journey gets some folks riled up!). Please, use your own thoughts, and credit those that belong to others! Most of all, have fun! It is much easier to find what you are looking for with a smile than a fist!