insomnia and waking up

last night, awake with insomnia,
i passed the time with his holiness the dalai lama
in a book called healing anger
which my zen teachers lent to me last year
when i was sitting on their couch wondering how to
escape this cycle of yelling and fantasies of violence
parenting as i know it
but not how i want it

h.h.d.l. says that the only factor that can give refuge or protection from the destructive effects of anger and hatred is the practice of tolerance and patience.

he speaks of the destructive nature of anger, but that we can't heal from it until we observe it, get to know it
that once you get to know the effects of anger, how horrible they truly are for everyone around you and yourself, then you will become more and more cautious of angry thoughts
and also to observe patience and tolerance, get to know them, too
and then nurture the factors that give rise to patience and gentleness
and cut at the root the factors that give rise to anger

i thought about the choking feeling of loneliness that i get when i am alone with the kids
and my husband is away on a business trip
how angry i get, how i yell at my children, how constricted i begin to feel
and i thought about the thoughts i have -
at those times i am thinking that i'd much rather be sitting in a cafe,
sipping wine, and reading a book about patience
rather than standing in the middle of a hot elevator with two worn out and whiney children who cling to me with sticky fingers and
are both demanding every bit of marrow from my being as i am wearing clothes covered in their saliva

ironic
which situation is the opportunity for patience, really

if nothing else, to see it as an opportunity for patience rather than the jail of anger i usually experience it as...
freeing

the other thing that was on my mind last night while i was awake, before i got up and read,
was this guy in my sangha, someone who has always felt dear to me even though
i don't know him all so well i guess
i was appreciating that he was practicing, that he finally went back to the monastery,
wondering if he'd want to ordain someday
and here today i get an email from him saying he's getting ordained in december
all about the great and lofty vows we buddhists deeply believe -
"we free all living beings" and whatnot
but the simplicity in his explanation of why he's doing this...is perhaps the most freeing of all.

"I was in a cemetery yesterday and stopped at the grave of a
woman who was two months younger than me when she died. It reminded me that this
life is so precious and short, and my highest aspiration is to appreciate this
little time that I have here. I’ve found this spiritual path best helps me live
in accord with that vow."

rising thoughts

as i go about my day, i notice undercurrents,
recurrent, actually, thoughts

the other night, a random web search
brought me to a college acquaintance
a mademoiselle article she wrote about
being molested by her high school youth group leader
(female)

she didn't come out about it until after college
all this time i knew her in school and she had this secret

i keep thinking about the youth leader and how she must have justified it to herself
she did it again, too
no recourse

the same web search brought me to a college photo
that included two boys i kissed in college
one is gay
the other still is really, very cute
i remember him with a hooded sweatshirt and big, deep Daido eyes
i miss him sometimes
but mostly i miss the no-strings fun

that time in my life is done and is charming to think about
as a memory

anyways the other thing that keeps floating to the surface of my thoughts
like i float to the surface of the water in my swim lessons if i hold my breath
is this couple
everytime i see them she looks tense and angry
he looks deeply saddened and a little defeated
she is going back to the u.s. for the summer
ostensibly
i say ostensibly because i know it's not just for the summer
she's not coming back
she can't stand to be anywhere near him

last night we ran into them at a fancy party
we waited for an hour for her to arrive
in the meantime an innocent conversation about...something i can't remember what
he said, "that's the whole problem, the whole problem is that she is not impulsive"
we shut our mouths
so much for an innocent conversation
she arrived and announced she was leaving, looking sad and upset
he had the defeated look on again
neither were breathing
they walked away 10 feet apart
i spotted them yelling, defensively,
in the parking lot later

she likes things just so and is quirky and funny
he is smooth and gently relaxed, so pleasant
too bad they can't be those things together

when i see their children i want to hug them and not let go
so much anger for a young child to digest

and finally today i read an interview with tenzin palmo
a british woman who was drawn to buddhism as a young child
in 1950's england
crazy how can that be?
she went to india and met her lama
she'd known him for lifetimes
she spent 12 years happily by herself in a himalayan cave
her biography deeply affects me, but her words as well
now i think about calling up the urgency of practice, but releasing the urgency of enlightenment

"It's very important to realize that with the right attitude, a little awareness, and skillful means, we can transform everything - all our joys and sorrows. The dharma is every breath we take, every thought we think, every word we speak, if we do it with awareness and an open, caring heart."

she speaks of the importance of seeing ourselves as part of many rebirths
and this is only one step, and it important to use this life as an advancement toward
helping others in all future lives, this one as well

i can't put words to it, but she is drawing me back to the heart of it

inch by inch

Pulling weeds and pickin' stones
We are made from dreams and bones
Find a spot to call my own
'Cause the time is close at hand

Grain for grain
sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music from the land

from Inch by Inch, John Denver

I love these lyrics. Three year old has a kids' cd with this song, and even when he's not in the car, I listen to it over and over.

Pulled out all my beautiful and exotic papers to make books today. I lovingly matched colors, gently ripped papers to create soft edges, pulled the sticky sheets over the boards to reveal the finished covers - lovely.

So satisfying, to think all the while of the person each book is for, to think of her uncovering the tissue I will wrap it in, I imagine her gasping at the thought of how much I love her and cherishing this object of my affection. It humbles even me. One of the recipients is one of the hardest people in my life to love, but something in me still wants to do this for her. I made hers out of pink and red Japanese paper with golden flowers.

It also just feels good to use my hands, to connect my brain with my eyes in a way I normally don't. Doing this makes me feel healed, helps me remember the person in me who sees beauty and loves the universe.

Perhaps I don't need meds after all. Perhaps I don't even need a counselor.

Maybe I'll make these books and sell them. Dreaming, never stop dreaming.

in a way

i'm not as happy as i could be
and as my favorite bloggers are coming out about their
depression meds...
i can't help but wonder if it's time for me to get some help

or if i should get cracking on my nightly meditation practice
making lists of projects
regular exercise and healthy eating
positive thinking
and all that

to see if i can regain balance through right living

today in the car, husband and i talking about the kids
the happy one, in particular,
and i said, you just never know what a child will become -
everyone says i was the happiest, most easy-going baby
and now i'm not happy or easy-going

he agreed

i haven't been the most loving
i complain about being lonesome

i think about...who was it? another blogger
who said that none of the circumstances of her life changed
and yet all the things she complained about before -
husband, weather, work, etc.
don't bother her like before
now that she is healed, she has a better outlook on life

i think of myself as lazy
it's like my feet are stuck in cement-filled buckets sometimes
i run and swim and down-ward dog
but i can't bring myself to empty the garbage
or throw out the junk mail on the table

maybe i need meds
maybe i need a good counselor
maybe i need my zen teacher
maybe i need to find my faith and take myself less seriously

bruce cockburn tonight
'look see my tears they fill the whole night sky'
not that i'm crying tonight or lately, but that line always sets a deep part of me to wriggle and squirm
with life
really moves me