Don't Sleep <<<<#

I know a lot of people who work very hard, often times to support families, themselves, maybe even doing things we would call "charity" with their money.

I was speaking with someone last night and she asked me, "what is the benefit of staying mindful while I'm around this unpleasant person?" In other words, when an uncomfortable situation comes up, what is the benefit of staying in the present moment?

A long explanation ensued, as you can probably imagine. But what was concluded relates directly to the opening of this entry. You stay present in situations that you're strongly drawn to or averted from: firstly, because the present moment is the only place to access life, past and present are just like walking in a house of mirrors, you're really the only one there. Secondly, in a situation, say like one where you really don't want to be around someone for one reason or another, you need to ask yourself what is really going on, but also whether or not you have the freedom to be in or out of that particular situation. In other words, can you stay and can you go?

To relate it to the initial sentence: our society emphasizes a work ethic. It is in the way we think and feel. For example, what do you think of the homeless, of monks or someone on a committed religious (non-pay) path, someone who seems to enjoy his breaks just a little to much?

I am wondering if we are free to rest. Are we free to produce nothing? I'm not saying all the time, here, I don't think it's natural for someone to do nothing all of the time. But how do we feel when we go on vacations (a week or more)? As if there is an "entry" period of disbelief, as if we're not really sure to act when our time is not strictly scheduled. I know that it literally and physically bothers me not to have a strict schedule of my time. Busyness has always been more comfortable for me, but that level of stress cannot be kept up forever (especially that level of interest).

I wonder if maybe we rested more during the day, we would rest more on vacations and such. If we took a few moments after classes to just absorb the whole experience, let everything swish around a while. If we took some breaths after our morning coffee to come out of dreaming, instead of chugging it on the way to work. Just small, seemingly insignificant rests during they day, where we re-center and regain ourselves, and the clarity that goes with it.

Just a swirl of a day in the bath tub.

What I Make of It

I am a poor man. I wander, as if in empty streets, deserted long, long ago.

I am rich. I feel profound loneliness; my breath is unified with yonder.

I am that puzzle piece left over. Where do I fit?

I feel unguided . . . a pilgrim in a strange land. I can barely see the faint light in the forest.

I am afraid to forget. I am afraid to forget those ideas that let me feel like I have a job, direction, usefulness. I train for a forestry job. I train in Aikido in hopes of living harmoniously with everything around and in me. Memories are not strengthened by concentration, but by effortless reminiscence.

I try not to let good things in my life. It is scarier for me to get than to live wanting. You can't do that!

My parents recently bought a moterhome (my mom's idea). My mom told me how much it bothered her to give to herself, to go have fun without answering to anyone, without needing to be back by a certain date, actually letting herself enjoy her own life.

Why do we all seem to do this? What have you told us, Mother Culture? Is it bad to have a good life if you haven't worked for it? Is it unjust that a man who provides for his family is murdered and robbed? What if the robber's children were starving?

It seems like there's always some bit of information you can add to any morally questionable situation to make it an "exception." Why do people think that if relativism is true, then morality means nothing? Foolishness.

The mirror is a symbol of enlightenment. I have often described a few around me as acting like a mirror. My dog, my aikido teacher, the tree in my front yard. All of these things reflect to me what I am like. But it is an illusion. Even saying so seems to disengage the logical mind. If I see myself in the mirror, it is not really me that I'm looking at. I'm looking at the air I breathed, the people I talked to, the vegetable my parents ate, sashimi (and plenty of wasabi), a game of counter-strike, countless beautiful and painful moments. All passing. All temporary. All necessary.

I seek now to make myself useful. Use me. Make use of me. May my steps be necessary. May my breath echo silently, the most insignificant, timeless vibrations. Not for fame, riches, sex, or popularity. But may I be useful. May I be the necessity in my steps.

Gassho.

Forgetting nothing

I watch lions on TV. In the prides, rival roaming males will come challenge the males that are mating with the females of the pride, whose offspring have been born recently.

If the rival males win, the former males will leave, and become roaming males themselves, looking for a pride to take over. The females will fight the incoming males, protecting their babies, but eventually the inevitable. All of the cubs are killed by the roaming males. Violence.

And I see harmony. I've never been a lion before, as far as I know. I don't think one can achieve harmony unless one knows violence. I don't think one can know harmony unless one is peace.

Jesus said there is a time for peace, and there is a time to take up arms. There is a time for violence. We always think violence means hitting someone. But I see it at the bars, even with my friends; I see it in the pursuit of sex, "man, I would fuck her so hard, and I know she knows that's what I'm thinking, and she likes it." I hear violence in words . . . even in passivity. The words change. The message is the same, "I'm scared and will kill you if I have to."
I see violence in child rearing. If we don't like it, smack it. Instead we may consider bringing ourselves to our child's level (and that doesn't imply bringing down), understanding, listening before we pursue our own interest.

Maybe it's not so much that we need to put others' interests before our own, but that we may pause before so aggressively and inconsiderately pursuing our own. Just thinking out loud.

Just thinking out loud.

Just thinking out loud.

I admire the lions. All the rules we have . . . . "you can't do that." "you can't do that!" Theirs are less.

I know that it is time.

Celebrating Negligence

I think this day must rank in my top 20 odd/awkward days in life.

Time with Julie.

Time at the Idiot. drinking. jokes. drama.


There are things I might write, but I think I know the identity of my anonymous-comment-leaver. Wouldn't be prudent at this juncture. <---- who said that? points if you know.

There's so much to be said, but not to be posted.


Schnickered tonight. Partying has become the low point of my days.

Djoo know Yerry, yourd a sovabitches!

Been up at our cottage for the past couple days. Playing with stones, what else?

I like it a lot up here. It's in Marine City, right on the st. clair river (Right on it!) Canada is just across the river, and, given the opportunity, I may wave at some canadians. That's ALWAYS fun.

I hope that I have access to this place (or am given it. ; ) ; ) <--- winks Mr. Pickles ) after my parents die. What a great going away present, only in reverse.

To all my readers, if you're leaving message and expect me to call you back and I don't have your number and it's an out of towner . . . enunciate your freaking number to save me calling all sorts of slant-eyed hicks trying to find you!
Let's just apply that to any number you ever leave on any machine.

I'd write more save the stones are missing me.

Be back Thursday, toledoans (not that any of you s.o.b.'s read this anyway. you s.o.b.'s.)

Old Cake

Firstly, I think "Dissappointing Friday" should be the name of a movie or band. Dissappointing being sold as a verb, not adjective.

The generosity of my friends set me on a tidal wave of booze and canadians Saturday. Happy B-day to Jason! I was extremely happy I got to go, as the previous overwhelming patheticism of the previous post suggests (nice alliteration!).

I will be lifting some stones Tuesday - Wednesday/Thursday. So, I won't be around, fyi.


Informational blogs= stale

Dissappointing Friday

Well, I had a great plan. And it's blown.

My account has (for the millionth time) overdrawn because of an automatic withdrawal service for Aikido. Had I closed my account yesterday and gotten my money out of the bank, then I would still be going to Windsor tomorrow. As it turns out, an agreement I made 2 1/2 years ago has just spent the money I was going to spend at Jason's B-day party.

I don't think $50 will cut it. But hey, at least I'll get to hang out with them tonight and play paintball tomorrow. If I have any money left over, I'll take myself out for sushi tomorrow night.

The thing is, it's just so hard to let myself feel disappointed (as I have not felt this profoundly disappointed in some time). It feels like such an awful feeling, and I cross my arms in front of my stomach for some half-semblance of resistance to a feeling that seems to sweep through the marrow of my bones (which it, quite literally, does).

In these helpless situations, I always feel the need to blame myself. Anything to get away from the disappointment.

Share the Wealth

Ted, J, Matt, Katy and I went to Beir Stube tonight. Good times. We had to compete for pool. Played pool. I, apparently, wasn't drunk enough to be good at pool.

Love the Irish Carbombs at Bier Stube. Ted says they're the best in toledo. I believe him.

Jason, I'd like to take Kate to dinner. Is that okay? Is she even available?

I'm looking forward to this weekend. It's Jason's 22 b-day. Two day party, one night in toledo, one night in windsor. AND, my brother wants to play paintball saturday! Damn, this weekend is going to ROCK!

Jason, share the wealth.

Ted, share the love.

Matt, share the buddha.