Showing posts with label Dalai Lama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dalai Lama. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

over 30 random facts about me


Time for some levity, so this blog will be chocked full of irrelevant things you probably didn't know about me, and were still able to live happy, fulfilling lives.

my 'jewel' is green and dangles

  • I have a tiara. Not a plastic pink one, but a shiny bronze one with one very small jewel. It's difficult to find in my hair if it's curly, but I know it's there and that's what counts. I bought it for myself. I realize this goes against my ego slimming mediation and yoga practice, but I'm okay with that, so far. Raj (my meditation coach and yoga teacher), if you're reading this (which is not likely, I  don't think he is the blog reading type), it's best you find out now that I'm  superficial and vain and hopelessly attracted to shiny things.

actual size MUCH larger



  • I have a scar on my bum from a very large pair of sewing scissors that my grandmother had left in a big cushy chair that I flung myself into -wearing a brand new pair of blue corduroy pants - when I was 14years old. They got stuck, and I was so mortified about having scissors in my in my bum that I hopped up and ran to the bathroom and pulled them out myself. I should have had stitches, but my 14year old dignity could not have endured that so I did my own first aid, first to my butt, and then to my new pants. To this day I have never told anyone in my family, and my grandmother went to her grave not knowing the humiliating injury I suffered in her home. I have to say I wasn't very skilled at either, and the pants looked very poorly mended and the scar remains, although the nearby hip replacement scar is much more impressive.



  • I talk to my pets, my plants - indoor and outdoor, not because it is good for them, but because I can't help myself. I also talk to my car, my bed (mostly terms of endearment when I crawl into it at night), many inanimate objects, and because I'm Canadian I say "thank you" to bank machines, and "sorry" to sentient and non-sentient, animate and inanimate things. 
  • Growing up I wanted to be a Veterinarian, (and an Artist, but could never imagine making my living with Art, I wish now I had tried to at least) but there were only a few schools in Ontario, and they were difficult to get into. I went into science instead, and after my Biology degree I studied Nursing, which I loved, and filled my life with many, many animals. 
  • I can't work as a nurse in this country because bureaucratic obstacles, so I'm looking at going back to school.




  • My car's name is Laverne. She's a 13year old Honda Accord with almost 250,000km ( 150,000miles in American) on her. She is the best behaved 13year year female I have ever known, and I adore her. I have put bumper stickers on her that leave no doubt that I am a "liberal-la-la, hippie-tree-hugging-granola-eating freak.



  • I secretly yearn for an opportunity to use my "Nearly-Ninja" Hapkido skills on real life bad guys. I swear I'm a pacifist, but just one punch, or a kick or two... is that too much to ask? 



  • I've been learning to sing for the last year because 40 years ago my Brownie leader told me to mouth the words when we sang - I was forever scarred and certain that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but this year thanks to a friend and a marvelous voice instructor I have done what would be unthinkable for me. I sang, by myself, in front of an audience (okay, a very small audience of fellow singers, all much better trained than I, but still, an audience). I shook like a leaf and it gave my voice great vibrato, the total body red blotchy rash was a little trickier to explain. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and I'd do it again, hopefully with less shaking and blotchiness. For the full story of my singing career see here


my hair if left to its own devices
  • I fuss way too  much about my hair. It's a Leo thing I've been told, still it's way more important to me than it should be (Raj, I really hope you're not reading this - my zen like facade is fading fast...). I do have a friend, and occasionally my kids who know this, and give me encouraging complements about how fabulous my hair looks on any given day. I'm not sure these comments are completely sincere, but hey, I'm always happy to receive them.
  • I'm a Leo, and a Dragon and a Number 1 in Numerology - ergo I'm vain, stubborn, bossy, fabulous, loyal, fiery, passionate, susceptible to complements, love presents, glitter and all things shiny.




  • I have been taking photographs my whole life, and was a late convert to digital, I still prefer the look you get from film, especially black and white. 
  • I also draw, paint, sculpt, collage, zen doodle, doodle doodle, make jewelry, make multimedia pieces ( mixed media is my favourite - it's like cooking, with art)
  • I love to cook, meal preparation, however, is not my favourite.
  • my favourite meal is one that someone cooks for me, past that I'm not too fussy (well... no eggs or bananas, and pineapple on pizza is just wrong) 
Steps onto soap box
 these opinions are entirely my own, and you may disagree with some or all them, and that's fine with me, but this is my blog, so you're going to get my opinions (with and without the tiara)
  • I don't eat pork unless I can find humanely raised meat (I love bacon, and miss it), this is the case with beef and chicken as well. I believe eating something that was treating badly, or terrified when it was killed is bad for my karma/soul/humanity, and also those involved in producing such meat.
  • I am Pro-Life for my own body, so far, but that is a Choice I make for myself, I think every woman deserves to be able to make this choice for herself and I would never force my belief on another woman. Men legislating woman's bodies should be run out of office and have their testicular contents publicly examined and critiqued.
  • I believe Capital Punishment is morally wrong and damages the souls/karma/humanity of all of those who are involved in ending another's life. Also those who are on death row are a disproportionately low income African Americans who had less than adequate legal representation. 
  • I think a society that proposed to legislate a woman's body, legally kill adults who are no longer a threat, and eats food from animals that were inhumanely treated is seriously flawed and backwards and should not be tolerated. As a first world nation with so much of the world's wealth, and so much power, we should be embarrassed and ashamed of such arkaic behaviours.
  • I think that, regardless of gender, two people in a loving committed relationship should be able to marry. I think it is ridiculous that this is even a debate.
  • I think the witch hunt for immigrants of Mexican decent is something we should be ashamed of as a country. I am an immigrant, but am treated well because I am white, this double standard is simply another form of racism cloaked in cowardly legislation.

am now steps off of soap box


  • I write poetry. More specifically I read, write, live and breathe and think in poetry. I started about 10years ago, no idea why. 
  • Okay, change that - my astute friend David pointed out what got me started. I discovered Viggo Mortensen as an actor (and thought wow! hot!), found out he wrote poetry (and all sorts of really attractive things that I mention further down) and thought WOW REALLY HOT, and after I read his poetry I thought I'd like to try it. I then read more poetry, and wrote more poetry and it has been a continuous cycle ever since. 
  • I should add all the poets I love, but this blog is already long enough; I DID meet Franz Wright a poet I love and THAT was awesome, and I once exchanged Mary Oliver quotes with Sister Helen Prejea, the nun who wrote "Dead Man Walking"and I was bouncing around clapping my hands like a fool for days after that. 
  • David Whyte is the hottest poet alive, and I would LOVE (LOVE, LOVE) to go on one of his poetry tours through Ireland.
  • Don't get me started on authors I adore.
  • I've been published and had two promises of a book fall through, (not much money in books of poetry) so I am still keeping my day job. Neruda says it best (love Neruda)



Poetry

And it was at that age . . . poetry arrived
man with a horse = sexy
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, not silence,
but from a street it called me,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among raging fires
or returning alone,
there it was, without a face,
and it touched me.


Irish man who reads Neruda aloud =sexy
I didn't know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind.
Something knocked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first, faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing;
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
wrote gorgeous poetry = DAMN sexy
the darkness perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire, and flowers,
the overpowering night, the universe.

And I, tiny being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
I wheeled with the stars.
My heart broke loose with the wind.



Old Spice Guy on a horse, still sexy

  • Nothing is sexier than a man with an accent reading Neruda
  • A man on a horse is almost as sexy as a man reading Neruda
  • A man on a horse reading Neruda would just be overkill, but I'd still be willing to listen


  • I LOVE Horses, I love their grace, strength, beauty personalities (well not all personalities). One day I will own my own and ride everyday.

  • I LOVE being beside large bodies of water, and one day will have a small home near the water, with my horse, dogs and cats. Ideally the ocean, but any large lake will do.

  • I study Hapkido, Yoga (Hatha, Kriya, Svaroopa, Iyengar, and Kundalini), Meditation (Mindfulness, Guided, Mantra, Focused and Movement), and Tai Ji. I read books by the Dalai Lama, Pema Chodron, and Thích Nhất Hạnh, and am still not even slightly Zen like.





maybe  I'm more Zen like than I thought..
  • I want to swim and scuba dive near dolphins and whales.
  • I love being scared on Roller Coasters, in horror movies, and in books. I get right into it and jump, scream and punch those poor sods who are sitting close to me.
  • I purposefully make myself do things that frighten me, like singing, and Improv Acting, and going down into caves etc, and generally love what I discover about myself after doing that thing that frightened  me. 
  • Going into underwater caves is still RIGHT OUT, but sky diving is not....

her face is nicer, but my arms look lke this
  • I apologize to any bugs I kill - not silverfish though - but mostly I carry outside things like moths and spiders.

  • I am in the best physical shape that I have ever been in, and weigh less than when I got married - my measurements, if I could remember them, are likely quite different.
  • I hate my nose.
  • I read Tarot cards and Palms, and I have a real crystal ball (not that I use it for anything but decoration, but one day.....)
  • I cry when other people cry, at movies, during tv shows, the odd commercial, when I watch live performances, while reading, and when really happy - my kids tolerate this weakness gracefully (read: groan and roll their eyes)


  • I ADORE Gustav Klimt's  work.  I love art, and believe it's necessary to live.
  • Beethoven (and hundreds more musicians) gives me goosebumps. 
  • Musicians are my Rock Stars, okay lame, but anyone who can play an instrument, compose music or teach music is pretty damn awesome.




  • I have a serious crush on Viggo Mortensen, who, would appear to be the perfect man - poet, father, painter, social activist, multilingual, musician (band with his son, how cool is that?), horse lover/owner, photographer, actor, publisher - what's not to love? Also, he is pretty easy on the eyes. His fatal flaw? He is a Montreal Canadiens fan, but I'm sure he'd get over that for me....



  • I have a bionic hip - okay a plain titanium one with no special powers, the other one may need replacing too, but I am putting it off as long as possible. Having a metal hip gets me the full body pat down at airports.
  • I am excellent at falling for complete narcissistic, misogynistic jerks, usually ones with an accent - Irish or Spanish so far.
  • I feel guilty about not being able to provide well enough for my kids.

  • I am fiercely proud that I am Canadian, and may move back there when my kids are finished school here.




  • I sleep with 6 pillows, a couple of cats, and a large greyhound named Fezzik (he sleeps in his own bed and spends the night farting and slurping)
  • I get migraines and they have caused 16 mini-strokes in my brain, and a pixel sized blind spot in my right eye. I always wonder if I'm having mid-age memory glitches or having another little stroke. So far I've held it at 16 and am generally compliant with my neurologist, except for the Hapkido part (my hip surgeon shakes his head as well...)
  •  I'm left handed, left eyed, left eared and my legs, I think, are ambidextrous, although when sparring, I kick more with my right leg. My left brain is likely the size of a raisin and gets bullied by my right brain. I process everything visually - which makes it nearly impossible for someone to give me directions over the phone.
  • I have an excellent sense of misdirection (or a terrible sense of direction, but I prefer to focus on the positive)
  • Six years ago I was in a major rollover car accident - it rolled 5 or 6 times and caught fire - I managed to crawl out with only minor injuries and some really cool scaring on my left elbow which apparently hit the ground with each revolution.

  •  I have a larger than average head. I broke a board with my head once - something I did not share with my neurologist.

  • I've broken lots of boards with my hands and feet, I think my Martial Arts teacher likes to show people that if this middle aged woman and break boards, just think what you could do....

  • I write, sing, read, eat chocolate (dark only), drink coffee and laugh every day.
  • I stay up too late, and get up too early - hence the love of coffee - when I was in Belgium whenever they brought you a coffee they brought a little cookie, cake or piece of chocolate with it, that's what I call a country with it's priorities in the right place.


  • I want to inspire people, I'm just not sure how to do that yet.



Saturday, June 30, 2012

Archie Bunker, Wendell Berry and the Buddha

I don't when it will happen, but I know it has been happening more often lately. I get into my car, or arrive somewhere and I just sit. I don't drive, I don't get out of the car. I just sit and stare; sometimes I cry, like I almost did this morning.

Most of the time I think "I've got this", but lately I know, at best, I'm keeping a stiff upper lip. I keep calm and carry on, because to admit you're not okay invites inquires and I'm not always up to telling my story. This morning I thought I was, but then had to sit in my car for 10minutes waiting for the urge to put my head on the steering wheel and cry to pass.

God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change
the Courage to change the things I can, and
the Wisdom to know the difference

Carrol O'Conner did a Public Service Announcement after he lost his son to drug addiction. It was well before I had kids, but his face and voice stayed with me, and when I feel like giving up, backing down or running away I think about him and I keep going.


About his son he said:

"I should have spied on him. I should've taken away all his civil rights, spied on him, opened his mail, listened to telephone calls, everything."

 "Nothing will give me any peace. I've lost a son. And I'll go to my grave without any peace over that."

"Get between your kid and drugs any way you can, if you want to save the kid's life"


In his eyes, I see so much pain, remorse, grief, and also I see resolve and courage to make this statement in hopes that it would help. Help save someone's child. And now it is helping with my own son. I hear it when I am so tired I want to give up, give up and run away, when I want to give into my own increasing cynicism and cut myself off emotionally. I hear it when I am sitting in my car, staring at the steering wheel and seeing nothing. When I don't want to go into my own house because I am not up for the next conversation I must have. 

Damn you Mr. O'Conner, this fight is too hard. I want to give up. I want to stop deciding where to draw my line in the sand and then stay there no matter what happens. Drawing the lines are hard enough, standing firmly by them can tear you apart. Then I hear him again, and I get out of the car, I stand my ground and I don't run away. One day at time.

Not everyday is hard. Some days I have my son back, and he's goofy, loving, helpful, and kind, but I trust those days less now because I have learned that he lies best when he is being kind and sweet, when he looks me sincerely in the eye. I've learned not to drop my guard and think this is the turning point, now things will get better, because invariably I discover missing money, that the sincere face was there to manipulate and lie to me. This used to feel like a kick in the gut, a betrayal. Now, it's part of my life, and that I've become used to it is the thing that makes me the saddest.

Here is where I must remember to hate the disease, not my son. Addiction is a disease and its symptoms really, really suck, but my son is still there, even when his disease has him by the throat. I must remember this, but sometimes I don't and then I have to forgive myself for not being perfect.

I find peace where I can, like now while I write this, or in the times I sit in my car just counting my breaths staring at nothing. I meditate, do yoga and hapkido, I go to parent groups and talk to other parents like me. These things help, while I'm doing them, but in the end I still have to go home and stand by my line.


I love Wendell Berry's poem, 'The Peace of Wild Things', and in nature is where I find the most peace. But even here I find my cynicism creeping in, and it is hard to remain peaceful for more than a moment.





The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry 




"if you want to see just how much control you really have, try raising teenagers, several at a time"
- my tweet from last night 


I'm not a very good Buddhist these days (good thing I have Unitarian Universalism to fall back on), being so affected by things outside of my control (ie EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE who isn't me). I get to control my own thinking, not necessarily my first thought, and absolutely not my emotions, but what I choose to think after that is up to me. Suffering comes from attachments, from ego, from clinging to hopes and dreams and not living with what is in front of and within you right now.

At this point I would like to point out that the Buddha never had to raise teenagers, he became enlightened only after abandoning his wife and child. 

I need a teacher who has managed to practice Buddhism AND live with children and teenagers, someone with a regular life. I can detach from my ego, recognize how my pride is making me envious, angry, resentful... piece of cake. Okay it took a long while and I'm still working on it, but try to detach with teenagers. When does parenting stop and enabling begin? How do my expectations of acceptable behaviour become attachment to future outcomes? How to I Be Here Now when there are forms to fill out, appointments to organize? How do I, or should I detach myself from my child's self destructive behaviour?

Being a parent is work, trying to be a good parent in difficult times is something the makes Atlas' job look easy. Being a good enough parent is scary, joyful, funny, heartbreaking and utterly exhausting. It breaks your heart, but I think the only way to live with an open heart is by breaking it open, and that takes suffering, and pain, and that takes love, all the love you have. It isn't pretty most of time, but it is worth it ( I hope....).

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Pursuit of Happiness, or how to be okay right now


This is my deck, on days like today it makes me happy, not just the corner you see here, but the spot just beside me where my cat is curled up in a low box that recently housed my now planted herbs, the spot just out of the left side of the frame that has my lounge chair and table with various potted plants, the spot behind the ladder where my dog is running with his tongue flapping somewhere around his ear, and the sound of the fountain my kids gave me for Mother's Day.

All this is lovely, but there's a wee problem, as lovely as this place is to me, it can't make me happy, only I can do that. Theoretically speaking, neither chocolate or coffee or money can make happy either, but they do help quite a bit - no I am not the Dalai Lama or Gandhi today folks. Which is slightly depressing, but quite a relief when you really look at it. Happiness is an inside job, so 'they' say, and I grudgingly admit this seems to be the case. For several hours before I took this photo I was exceptionally irritated at the world, my job, my in-laws and mother, in general, and my teenaged children, specifically, for not behaving in a manner I would like. About an hour after taking this shot I was grabbing my Hapkido bag, all set to go get a good work out when instead I found myself heading to the local Marine's Recruiting Office to sit for almost 2hours with my 17year old son as he worked towards enlisting himself.

So here I am, the Peace Mongering Canadian now with a half enlisted son in the United States Marine Corps. Half enlisted because he still has paperwork to finish, still needs a military medical and physical test, and since he has a year of high school left, that he has to do well at, and attend their drill sessions once a week. Not the path I would have chosen for  him. I liked the path where he always did well in school, excelled in something athletic, was socially successful and becomes a brilliant and well paid writer, photographer after a successful college degree, oh, and meet a nice girl/woman who I get along with brilliantly. Mom dreams, what can you do? The problem is my dreams became expectations and when things didn't go according to 'my plan' - ie life happened, as life is apt to do - I was disappointed. I had to grieve the future that would never be, and the son I never had. Somewhere along the way, and being knocked down a few thousand times, I learned to be okay with people, even my own children making their own life choices and learning from them, instead of just swallowing all my years of accumulated wisdom. Of course, I had never been able to learn much from other people's mistakes, but I still thought I could somehow how insulate my own children from making their own mistakes and learning from them.

Life, however, is not like that.

I am not in this life, on this planet etc,  to be entertained, taken care of, coddled, and otherwise indulged; sadly true, because I would have loved an easier life.

But, it's not about me - another bitter pill and blow to my ego, alas!

Life is what goes on with or without me, if I died today there would be a shift in some peoples lives, but the world would continue to spin, and their lives would go on.  The best I can do is work on not becoming too attached to things, thoughts, outcomes, and simply do my best with what is front of me at any particular moment.

I am here to be of service to those I can help, that's it.

The world is not here for my entertainment, rather I'm here to help take care of it, its people, flora and fauna. I am not the very important individual I once dreamed I was, or would be, but instead I get to be part of something that is much bigger, and ultimately more important. For me, that's what life is about. I'm still shallow enough to wish that my life was easier, that I had more money, different parents, a happy marriage, in general, what I wanted. In one way its a drag the world is not here for my personal enjoyment, but I think if I had got everything I wanted in life, I would have become a vain, selfish person who thought things were more important than people, that what I wanted came first and that 'other' people were there to do things for me, entertain, feed, clean up after, and pay for me.

Learning life lessons is not easy for me, possibly because I'm pig-headed, stubborn, and, given the slightest provocation, gloriously self centered. I've only learned a little bit, but the more things change the more open to change I become and the less attached I am to what I think should happen.

That vain, bitchy princess is still in there - my infantile ego - and she still likes to think she's Queen of Fucking Everything, but generally the most she gets is an occasional hands-on the-hips-foot-stomp-with-a-heavy-sigh moment.

So, my back deck. Yes, I feel happy when I stop to smell its flowers, I can just as easily feel rotten if I've let the Princess out, or have let someone else into my head. There are places in my brain where I simply do not go anymore. Patterns of thought that will make me crazy if I indulge them, so as much as I can I try to, as the Buddha said "be awake" and be present for whatever and whomever comes my way.

I love this poem, and really you could have skipped this whole blog and just read Rumi's poem to grasp what I'm babbling on about:


The Guest House - Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.