Rituals

I regretably made an appointment to have my car in for its 1000 mile service at 6:30 this morning, so I need to leave the house around 5:30 a.m. to 5:45 a.m. I'm reacting with some stress over having my nephew as company, I don't feel well suited to entertaining a 10 year old.

Yesterday we went to the movies and saw Get Smart, shared a huge bag of popcorn then walked over to Amy's Ice Cream and had a large scoop of Belgium Chocolate ice cream (one of my favorites). We got home around 5 and then I had to prepare dinner for all of us, hence we didn't eat until around 7 p.m. I began to feel the need to have some space and privacy after barely having him here for over 24 hours! What a wimp I am when it comes to giving my time and routine over to taking care of a 10 year old! I've always known I could never be a parent! But I did make it to practice yesterday morning and that was sweet. I stopped at Umlauf Garden to check out the hours and sure enough they are closed Mon and Tues, so the idea of taking Zach there was out of the question for the day. Still, we do have fun, acting silly and laughing at all the craziness portrayed in that *movie*....

I managed to make it to bed last night by 8:30 so I had some time to myself (plus the wonderful morning time that I so enjoy, all to myself as Dale and Zach tend to sleep late compared with my routine) and read the following passage that particularly rang true for me:

rituals and reality

"Rituals and forms in spiritual practice can be useful, but in themselves they have little to do with seeing the truth. We must question whether we use the forms and rituals to connect with what is, or as a way to hide in familiar security. The longer one practices in a particular tradition, the easier it becomes to hide in the routines, in doing it "right," and--especially--in the jargon. Thus we trap ourselves in the protected cacoon of comforting predictability, unable to experience the reality of what our life really is."

excerpted from Saying YES to Life (Even the Hard Parts) by Ezra Bayda with Josh Bartok.

The Destination of Pilgrims

Went to bed early, arose this morning later than usual, and am still feeling groggy. Was it the gelato serving last night? I recall intense dreams that I didn't record soon enough, now they have mostly escaped my consciousness, except for little bits and pieces. I do know that Ralph never got in bed with me last night, but Pepe did, and he crawled up close and slept right against me. I'm guessing Ralph is jealous and is protesting, expressing his hurt feelings at not being the cat who gets ALL the attention anymore. Still, he very much likes Pepe. In some ways their behavior can easily been seen to parallel that of humans. About my dreams last night, I do know that upon awakening I had a bit of a sickened feeling in my gut, seeing the birth of some many litters of kittens with no one to feed them or care for them, so to the shelters they go and are lucky if they make it to a no kill shelter, even luckier if they get adopted. And then my thoughts go to the mother racoon who lives nearby, and how very hard she worked to care for her young, how protective she was, but when it came time to let them go, to push them out of the house so to speak, they seemed barely able to walk, such tiny and fragile little creatures, unable to even climb any of the water fountains to drink. Survival is rare and the chances of reaching adolescence is rare, adulthood even rarer, and becoming a racoon senior citizen is indeed to a few. And so all the baby racoons have probably died even though I'd like to think they moved on to another location and are doing well. Statistics don't lend much credence to that hope. I love Annie Dillard's books and how she can write so beautifully on topics that many of us don't particularly enjoy thinking about---the animal kingdom and insects and reptiles devouring one another daily in predatory hunts, bites filled with poison, webs that trap the unsuspecting, bloody kills and the ripping away of muscles as the prey stuggles to get away and dies slowly, in what appears to be such agony. The world is filled with so much *violence* as species after species devours one another as they are supposed to do. In accordance with their very natures. Nature, so beautiful, mysterious, magical, and cruel, raw, devasting, murderous, cannibalistic....

We drove to Wimberley yesterday and picked up my nephew who said he'd like to stay with us for 5 to 8 days. This fall he enteres 5th grade. I have a difficult time entertaining him, so I need to just let that go and let him find much of his own entertainment. We did go shopping for clothes/shoes yesterday, and although the stores were packed with mobs of people, it was easy to find what we wanted. For lunch they both had hamburgers and french fries while I came home and had my sprouted seed bread and peanut butter with honey and fruit.

I'm enjoying reading passages from Ezra Bayda's Saying YES to Life (Even the Hard Parts) and look forward to reading Wherever You Go, There You Are, Mindfullness Meditation in Everyday Life by Jon Kabat-Zinn. My reading list grows far faster than my reading.

The armadillos have dug up much of the dirt that Dale carefully spread out, then covered with big, flat pieces of Arizona flagstone to fight the erosion that takes place in the *dry* creek bed each time we have a torrential rain (a distant memory!)...and the water rushes up over our driveway taking away the crushed limestone. Those armadillos are merely searching for grubworms, trying to survive. We are all trying to survive as best we can, I think. We are indeed pilgrims on a path and no matter how much comfort we may take in believing we know our destinations, do we really? I think not.

Time for breakfast and off to Focus on Form class.

Another summer day

Margaret Perry's pre-performance lecture last night at the Emma Long Center on Verdi was the perfect prelude to the actual performance. What an artist, recognized as a genius at the age of 4, he became his village's official church organist by the age of 9. Married with two beautiful children, he lost all of them within an 18 month period of time. Retired to become as successful a farmer as he was a composer. A proclaimed agnostic, it's hard to imagine the creative mind composing something as intense as his famous Requiem performed last night under the direction of Craig Hellig Johnson. Dale loved it. It didn't quite get into the marrow of my bones as predicted, but I was moved. On the long drive home I was surprised to hear Dale talk of possible future assisted living arrangements. After all these years I find it unpleasant to imagine living without him, for whatever reasons.

Some of my family are vacationing in Wimberley and return home (South Texas) today, so at some point I will need to drive over and pick up Zachary for his summer stay here. I'm curious as to how long he will want to stay before he gets bored, missing the chaotic and active lifestyle of his life with mother, sisters and little brother. Although time changes many things, our bond will always be tight as I raised him from the age of 2 through 3 while his mother served out her time in state prison. It was a difficult time, it was a blessing and a profound experience for me. I never imagined mysef being a *dad*, or rather a surrogate dad, to a child. But I quickly learned how to change diapers, prepare food, warm bottles, read bedtime stories, and learned first hand what it's like to have a child get really sick and almost die from sickness. Five days in Brackenridge's Children Hospital before they could determine exactly what was wrong with him. The dreaded rotavirus plus a secondary intestinal infection. What a time!

Our newly adopted cat Pepe has totally captured our hearts. It's hard to imagine how people can simply abandon a pet. He's a few months shy of his 4th birthday with an unknown history, but someone treated him very kindly. He was rescued from the animal shelter by the volunteers of R.O.A.R.S., where he awaited certain death, as do so many other dogs and cats. Thank you Francine for the wonderful work you and others do for these wonderful little helpless animals.

Windows into the heart

I like the image of a rich blue sky with billowing white clouds floating by, like
thoughts, they dissipate, and again the sky is rich but empty, until along comes another
cloud, and it catches your attention and off you go. Come back again and again, gently
they say, to the vast expanse of the empty blue sky. I'm not a good meditator. But then
I'm not very good at Ardha Chandrasana or doing anything mechanical...back to the blue sky. I told my yoga teacher how tea tree oil is great at stopping the itch of chigger bites, how my nephew, after mowing the grass had dozens of chigger bites, and the itching was driving him crazy, to the point that he couldn't sleep. Tea tree oil proved to be the solution. This morning, barely past dawn, while washing my car, I kept gazing up at the waning moon, and my mind was flooded with thoughts, and since I wasn't meditating per se, although I like to think I live a contemplative life, I just allowed them to go wherever they wanted. Something like this: ouch, something just stung me on the back, was it that honey bee that keeps buzzing around? ouch again, a fire ant just stung me on the ankle. Tea tree oil. Washing one's mala beads in oil and placing them outside under the rays of a full moon and letting them soak up her gentle beams is suggested and recommended. But then I don't wear my mala beads. Where is my rosary from Jerusalem that SD gave me years ago? I'm so glad I'm finished, more or less, with Catholicism. You must leave your partner, you must become celibate. WE love you Ron, we love you deeply even though you are gay, but to lead this spiritual path you must leave your partner and restrain yourself from making love or having sex with any man. Outrageous! I've been with my partner for over 33 years now. Fuck off. I love him far more than I could possibly embrace your religion. Then I'm back in the present, washing my car, listening to the plethora of sounds--a wide array of birds singing their songs to greet the new day, dogs barking in the far distance, the braying of a donkey, the buzzing of that bee. Then I thought of the day I was at the local grocery store, and standing in the line was a little boy with his father. I don't recall ever having seen such a sad little boy. Big brown downcast eyes, his father had to nudge him to take a step forward as the line moved, and it seemed like a task too difficult for him to do, that he'd just as soon stand there frozen in time, lost in his sad reverie, too frightened to move on his own. He was so little and thin, frail, beautiful dark skin that contrasted with the whiteness of his father's paleness. Was he adopted? Again and again he had to be nudged forward, each little step in his sandaled feet such a difficult task for him. I wondered what ailment he may have, some mysterious disease, was he blind and/or deaf? One eye was definitely off. His sadness just came over me like a wave and sent me crashing into those walls of the unknown, the scary, dark places we all know. I told the cashier that something must be wrong with that little boy that just got escorted out to his car with his dad. "Well, yes, of course there is something wrong with him, you should have seen his father pulling him around the store, nearly yanking his arms out of their sockets, yelling at him, he was really rough with him. Not just rough, cruel." I cringed. Is this a case of child abuse? "If I weren't on duty I'd report him," she said. I walked outside and saw the father driving away in his old white car. I noted the license number and jumped in my car and decided to follow him, even though I had no idea what I would do. I spotted his white car parked at the far corner of the local Sonic, as far away as possible from the eyes of employees and other patrons. This confirmed my suspicions. This little boy was obviously the victim of abuse. What can I do? What if I'm wrong? I needed gasoline so I drove into the nearby gas station and there I saw a deputy sheriff's car. I went inside, found him, and gave him the license number of the vehicle and told him what I knew. No sir, I didn't see anything but others at the grocery did. Please help this little boy. There is nothing I can do he informed me, except notify child services. Please give them the license number I pleaded. He said he'd do what he could. I left feeling empty.

Again, in the present, is that a skunk I smell? Dale saw one the other night sauntering along the sidewalk between the house and the garage. I remember reaching out in the dark one night thinking I was going to be petting my family's collie, and instead reached down and got a powerful spray from a skunk at my feet. It was so strong I couldn't even smell it. But I could feel it, again like a wave, a vibration, sending me reeling, backwards. Now I find myself thinking of S, and how quickly I grew fond of him. What a fun time we had for a week while he was my house guest. How many bottles of wine did we drink? How many times did we stay up until the wee hours just chatting away, sharing our stories, being a bit playful now and again. But before long, red flags went up. Bright red flags, glaring, impossible to ignore. I walked away. I got pulled back in. His horror stories of childhood abuse beyond anything I'd ever heard before, firsthand, made me cry. We wept. He stopped but I continued, the tears flowed for months. How can I walk away from such pain? Let me help you, let me take care of you, let me console you and be very close and loving. NO. NEVER. My heart broke into a thousand pieces. Then he walked away and that was the end of the *friendship.* I did my best. I read, I researched, I learned as much as I could about PTSD, about the exploitation of children, often at the hands of their own parents or older siblings. I read how our society is one that is starving for the loving, caring, human touch and NOT the touch of abuse. We are afraid to touch one another. I am so easily touched. I am so drawn to the deeply wounded. I dig deep into my psyche (soul) to undercover all secrets, all pain, all suffering, and re-live it until I understand it, until all is forgiven and healing has set in.

I finished washing my car this morning, had breakfast, then joined my beautiful gay kula for an intense vinyasa. I love those guys. I also love this poem, because it touches me, it reminds me of the suffering of children, and how those scars can remain unhealed unless they are dealt with spiritually/psychologically:

Seeing the snowman standing all alone

In the dusk and cold is more than he can bear.

The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare

A night of gnashings and enormous moan.

His tearful sight can hardly reach to where

The pale-faced figure with bitumen eyes

Returns him such a god-forsaken stare

As outcast Adam gave to Paradise.

The man of snow is, nonetheless, content,

Having no wish to go inside and die.

Still, he is moved to see the youngster cry.

Though frozen water is his element,

He melts enough to drop from one soft eye

A trickle of the purest rain, a tear

For the child at the bright pane surrounded by

Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.

richard wilbur, boy at the window

March on ye Warriors and Warriors-to-be (but don't march too hard)

Today I begin to incorporate some Ayurvedic prescribed dietary changes to bring about more balance--less heat, more cool, less fire, more ice, less sun, more moon. I had my first accupuncture session yesterday, pretty amazing. Interesting how some of the needles have an electrical vibration to them as they are adjusted, inserted, or removed, such energy.

The sweet cleaning ladies come this morning which is good, but my routine will be slightly interrupted in that I'll need to stay here and skip morning class. Dale will run errands and I've got to get busy soon. Gary and Fred, I was thinking how much I've enjoyed our weekly Tuesday evening gatherings over the past year plus, and how much I appreciate the friendship, the sharing, the conversation, the support, and definitely the naked dancing that was so liberating and so much fun! But, all things reach an end, and I guess our time had come, what with such busy scheduleds you two have. Love you guys and will miss those special gatherings.

We watched Shelter last night, a really sweet movie set in San Pedro CA, a gay love story, coming out, coming of age, the crazy family and the choices we make and how they have such a profound effect on our lives, and also how the pull of family when dysfunction is going on can also have a profound effect on our lives. The acting was so good, so natural. The protaganist's name was Zach, and he was very much the surrogate father to his nephew, which reminds me of my own nephew, yet another Zach, and how I need to make arrangements to have him stay with us this summer. What will we do in this heat? It can be pretty demanding trying to entertain a kid. Maybe we can take the trapeze course if it's being offered at the Crossing, need to check on some things. I'm sure Roger will have ideas.

Wayo, it was good seeing you the other night and so sweet of you to share a bit of your recent trip to Israel and Jordan. I wonder if I will ever see Petra, it's high on my list. Oh yea, yoga yoga, I took a class recently at Yoga Yoga--hadn't been there in a while--and spent some time chatting afterwards with the teacher, an especially nice guy. I told him of my fears of enrolling in the Teacher Training progam and he seems to have acquired quite a mature understanding of *life* for someone so young....when I got home I had received some books in the mail and the first one I opened, the first passage I read, in the middle of the book was:

"Entering your own fear-based pain allows you to begin to relate to the pain of others. And thus you can experience a sense of kinship with humanity."

and

"As we feel the pain that all people feel in facing an uncontrollable world, compassion naturally arises--even for our 'enemies'".

[excerpt from Saying Yes to Life (Even the Hard Parts) by Ezra Bayda with Josh Bartok]

So true. Serendipitous. Fortuitous. I filled out my application and turned it in along with my deposit. Juan said "awesome, dude, you are in!" And I'm a bit scared and I know that is totally okay, in fact, it's damn good to acknowledge that! Which reminds me, I miss our therapy sessions, Allen. I may call soon. You taught me so much, and reminded me how important it is to acknowledge and embrace our shadows, no matter how dark. While I'm at it, I also miss the beautiful guys at group therapy, hope you are all continuing your excellent work, marching on towards your goals, reaching out, sharing. It was time for me to leave, and it was a good decision.

I'm enjoying blogging in my stream of consciousness sort of way. It's scary thinking that others might read what I write. Journaling for me has always been so personal. It will be hard to censor myself here but in some way I suppose I will need to. Hmm, I'll give that more thought.

Time marches on and I need to get in my lunar breathing and meditation, prepare for the ladies.

Ciao

Eat, Pray, Love and Ramble

I finally started reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love and just as everyone told me, it's a great read. It takes me back to my sweet time in Italy (Tuscany) this past Fall and the fantastic Balinese Sojourn and Yoga Adventure retreat I went on with Spirit Journeys and the incomparable David Moreno (Abhi) earlier this year to Bali (2008). Rathi, I miss you! Abhi, I so want to join you and Kevin in NM this summer but alas I don't think that's going happen. I loved last summer's men's retreat at the Bodhi Zen Center. It was a difficult time for me, falling in love at the wrong time with the wrong person and the healing began there with the creative writing, the sweat lodge, the trance dancing and the rest of that incredible and indescribable experience with such a fantastic group of beautiful men. So healing. Yet another lesson in learning to keep my heart open to all things but listen carefully to my gut. I'm looking out my window as I write and the moon is full, or nearly full and draws me. I saw CW today for accupuncture and need to remember to incorporate Nadi Shodana (lunar breathing) into my daily practice. Cool the heat inside. Practice has been good this week. Murti, you are deep in my thoughts and my heart, my teacher, my friend. May good things to come you. I'm glad you read the Andrew Harvey interview in The Sun, and I'm so glad to have discovered him. Now if only I can convince Dale to either go with me or give me his blessing to get signed up for the pilgrimage to India in early 2009. I'm rambling and it's way past my bedtime. I'll curl up with EPL and Pepe and Ralph and let the moon bath the room in her soft glow.

A Swish of Wind

It seems like only yesterday that mama raccoon carried her 4 kits to the front water fountain, presumably to show them where they might find water in the scorching heat, and now only one seems to have survived. I hope the cat food I've been giving him along with a bowl of water is enough to sustain him. He is so little and frail, and seems so alone in this world. Where are you mama? Has something happened to you? Your kit is having a rough time. But such is Nature. I noticed the cottontail that I threw a carrot to this morning is blind in one eye. The painted buntings are still here although for days I didn't see the male with his brilliantly colorful feathers. Soon the bunting family will be gone, until next year. The hummers are swarming and divebombing and always ready for a sweet refill. I counted six squirrels yesterday, lounging on tree limbs and trunks. A young cardinal crashed into the window right next to where I was sitting, so loud a crash that Pepe jumped from my lap to see what was going on. He was alive, just stunned, on the back porch. As usual when this happens, I grab a clean rag and and put the stunned bird in a box up high, safe from predators and especially fire ants, and watch as they recover their strength and take flight once again. He got into the plumbagos and I couldn't get to him, but I could hear the rustle of his movements as he tried to escape my rescue attempt. Suddenly in an instant I felt a swish of wind against my foot just in time to see him take flight to the nearest oak.