With palms together,
Good Morning All,
We will be having quite a wind storm here in Las Cruces today. The air was cold against my skin while I sat outside under the stars. Now, sitting at my desk, having finished another painting, my face seems warmed by the contrast of the heated air in our house. We are so fortunate to have such a luxury. There are those I think about who I see walking the streets without a home. I wonder how they survive or how it is they continue to live, knowing that many do not.
The other day the Southern New Mexico Harley Owners Group did a Marine Corps. Toys for Tots “run” to an elementary school. I had signed up to be one of Santa’s escorts. After arriving, a disheveled father with rotting teeth came up to us with his little girl. She was tightly holding her Christmas packages. Both were dressed in rags. They both thanked us for doing this and the father said that without this help his daughter would not have had Christmas. The image of these two hungry, poor, and clearly suffering people struck me hard.
As I ponder this, my mind returns to the jungles of Vietnam and my experience of living out in the bush exposed to the elements for days at a time with little more than the shirt on my back and a plastic poncho. There, it was such a delight to open a C-rations pack to find a can of fruit or a tin of peanut butter I used to heat water for hot chocolate or coffee. In-country, when I saw the faces of children in abject poverty, fearing us or holding us in contempt as we walked through their villages, I felt a sense of pity for them for feeling such things. And later, after being shot and having physicians give me little hope of either living or using my left side again, thinking I will find a way to not have such realities hinder me.
Our world changes, sometimes dramatically, in a heartbeat, it sometimes seems.
What is important isn’t that it changes, change is our true nature, but rather how we face that change. For me, sometimes I hide from it, denying the everyday forces that shape my world. Sometimes I minimize the change itself or its effect on me. Other times, I face it, only to have my heart and or body broken by the same forces. Yet, there are times when, in spite of, or because of, that change, I find myself transported to a whole other realm of existence, that existence which comes with practice and a willingness to assign meaning to change. In such times, all of the other responses are rendered equally meaningful.
I believe this response, the response of contextualizing and attaching meaning to a situation, has been key to both my survival and my “success” in life, such as it might be. I believe success isn’t measured by money in the bank or luxuries in my home, or even that I have a home. Rather, it is measured by a fluid ability to look deeply into what appears in front of me. I remember, even at an early age, imagining the context of my situation. I recall moments, when faced with a hardship, looking to find something positive in it. When my father would yell at me or chase me in order to give me his belt on my behind, I recall trying to understand him or trying to find ways to make it ‘not so bad.’
Today, on my zafu, I often have such memories arise and review the thoughts surrounding them. I wonder what it was that allowed me to face things in such ways. Frankly, I have no answer in terms of the conditioning, but I do believe it was that process of contextualizing and assigning meaning to those events that was its source. I have learned from the practice of looking deeply, most often unconsciously, but sometimes deliberately.
The Buddha taught us, and our practice confirms, that all things are conditioned; all things arise when their moment presents itself and all things fall away when conditions are no longer present for them to exist. At first glance this may seem sad, but in the grand scheme of things, it is perfect. May we each seek to discover this perfection.
Be well
Good Morning All,
We will be having quite a wind storm here in Las Cruces today. The air was cold against my skin while I sat outside under the stars. Now, sitting at my desk, having finished another painting, my face seems warmed by the contrast of the heated air in our house. We are so fortunate to have such a luxury. There are those I think about who I see walking the streets without a home. I wonder how they survive or how it is they continue to live, knowing that many do not.
The other day the Southern New Mexico Harley Owners Group did a Marine Corps. Toys for Tots “run” to an elementary school. I had signed up to be one of Santa’s escorts. After arriving, a disheveled father with rotting teeth came up to us with his little girl. She was tightly holding her Christmas packages. Both were dressed in rags. They both thanked us for doing this and the father said that without this help his daughter would not have had Christmas. The image of these two hungry, poor, and clearly suffering people struck me hard.
As I ponder this, my mind returns to the jungles of Vietnam and my experience of living out in the bush exposed to the elements for days at a time with little more than the shirt on my back and a plastic poncho. There, it was such a delight to open a C-rations pack to find a can of fruit or a tin of peanut butter I used to heat water for hot chocolate or coffee. In-country, when I saw the faces of children in abject poverty, fearing us or holding us in contempt as we walked through their villages, I felt a sense of pity for them for feeling such things. And later, after being shot and having physicians give me little hope of either living or using my left side again, thinking I will find a way to not have such realities hinder me.
Our world changes, sometimes dramatically, in a heartbeat, it sometimes seems.
What is important isn’t that it changes, change is our true nature, but rather how we face that change. For me, sometimes I hide from it, denying the everyday forces that shape my world. Sometimes I minimize the change itself or its effect on me. Other times, I face it, only to have my heart and or body broken by the same forces. Yet, there are times when, in spite of, or because of, that change, I find myself transported to a whole other realm of existence, that existence which comes with practice and a willingness to assign meaning to change. In such times, all of the other responses are rendered equally meaningful.
I believe this response, the response of contextualizing and attaching meaning to a situation, has been key to both my survival and my “success” in life, such as it might be. I believe success isn’t measured by money in the bank or luxuries in my home, or even that I have a home. Rather, it is measured by a fluid ability to look deeply into what appears in front of me. I remember, even at an early age, imagining the context of my situation. I recall moments, when faced with a hardship, looking to find something positive in it. When my father would yell at me or chase me in order to give me his belt on my behind, I recall trying to understand him or trying to find ways to make it ‘not so bad.’
Today, on my zafu, I often have such memories arise and review the thoughts surrounding them. I wonder what it was that allowed me to face things in such ways. Frankly, I have no answer in terms of the conditioning, but I do believe it was that process of contextualizing and assigning meaning to those events that was its source. I have learned from the practice of looking deeply, most often unconsciously, but sometimes deliberately.
The Buddha taught us, and our practice confirms, that all things are conditioned; all things arise when their moment presents itself and all things fall away when conditions are no longer present for them to exist. At first glance this may seem sad, but in the grand scheme of things, it is perfect. May we each seek to discover this perfection.
Be well