Papa Was the Jiki!

We went to meditation tonight. Roshi didn't show up, and it wasn't until we had been sitting for ten minutes that I realized the jiki (timekeeper) wasn't going to show up either. We sat and sat, waiting, but there was no one to ring the bell. Papa, always the captain, took charge of the situation. He walked to the jiki's empty zabuton, picked up the timer, bell and clackers, and led the session.

There isn't a Zen bone in his body, but he comes with me to the Zendo every week, and being very observant, he knew exactly what to do. He even led the walking meditation (kinhin). Is there anything that man can't do?

Efforts and Priorities

Getting ready to fly home after a hectic but satisfying visit with kids and grandkids. Gratitude abounds for the merciful weather and our very commodious rental house. Sweetest moment: chicken soup lovingly prepared for us with dietary needs in mind.

I am continuing to ponder keeping my efforts in line with my priorities. One of Roshi's first talks always echoes in my mind- "Do not work for your [busy, chaotic] brain; with discipline, your brain works for you.

It is a struggle to stay out of reactive mode when surrounded by busy-ness. What are my priorities? Nurture a resilient biology (1), maintain a spiritual center (2), so I can give energy to family relationships (3), and participate as it is possible in my immediate community (4).

When we arrive home we face a big new set of demands on our time, a parent with dementia. We must analyze how we are spending our time in light of our priorities, and will possibly have to set a few precedents as a consequence, such as hiring assistance. Also for me, more discipline about mindfulness. It's that or drugs, and I'm still choosing awareness over the drugs whenever it is possible.

Where is mu? I am swimming in it.

Priorities

Yesterday day moved forward at a noticeable cadence- the events as pages turning. A relaxing morning watching a ponderous documentary about a small town's National Guard unit being deployed in Iraq. The beautiful sunny day seduced us. A trip out of the house to try a new restaurant. A period of packing and organization for our upcoming travel. A phone call to a family member to catch up on significant events in her life and mine. A distress call from another family member requiring action.

We had planned to attend an event about contemplative prayer and meditation in the evening, but the day had taken all I had to give. To add one more event would have put me on a deficit, so I refrained. I am grateful for the presence of mind to make this decision, and make my efforts match my priorities. Today I am rested and ready to travel.

What to Make of This

My efforts at abandoning stories in favor of the here and now are undone tonight as I sit with sixteen family members, all with rich and diverse life stories in progress.

I am on a new page, I see. The page on which one reaps the benefit of sixty-some years of family membership. I find myself in unanimously marvelous company and realize that these are all people I have either grown up with, raised, "auntied," "grandmothered," or who have been chosen by those same people as life partners.

This is entirely too much grace to either be minimized into a sensory experience, or romanticised into a self-observing scenario. What am I to make of this?

Immersed in Blogland

Am absolutely reveling in the miracle of blogland! Let me never take for granted how it is that I can share the daily adventures via the photos, or the words of those I love. From grand never-to-be-forgotten AHA! epiphanies, to adventures while traveling, to just stuff we might mutter to each other between pages of the paper, or driving down the road- it's all there in blogland.

Am now on three vacations via blogs- My kids', my nephew's, plus one in the here and now- mine.

Ain't it something?

The Sun that Warms

Dark Visions

As I became more enveloped in fatigue last night, I lay in bed experiencing the feeling of sinking into a dark black and dangerous void. I felt like sharks were circling me; that very very real danger was surrounding my bed. What was that?

I thought that this must be how Barbara feels when she is overcome by weakness as her body reacts to its recent assault. Or even when she contemplates her attacker- the cancer. There was no getting rid of the feeling I was having, so I tried to just lean into, breathe into it, as I often do into pain. Peer into it. What is this? What is this?

Then I thought I had better not lean any farther. It seemed like Barbara had been holding on to us to keep from sinking in there, and I better keep one strong arm out of the death place, so we all did not fall in together. I pulled my head up and out of the water and swam for my life. For our lives.

Sleep came and I arose, rested. This morning I made a point to let Barbara know that even though the Pink Ribbon Party had been lots of play, I do truly see what a terrifying and exhausting place she is in right now. It wasn't a cheerful thought, but I felt that it was a necessary one.

As I write, I am not so afraid of either cancer or death , only suffering. I have had the time and inclination to ponder death and my body's demise, and am reconciled with the body's impermanence. But I have to say that I think it would be terrifying to be encountering a cancer battle without someone in my life who truly saw where I was. I hope it was a gift to Barbara. It was to me.

Exhaustion Arises

Today was a very tired day. Up late the night before. Lots of concern for cousin Barb as she heads back home for round two of chemo. Relief that her night visit to the ER revealed no major problems with chemo, only an infection causing fever and chills. Let down after so many wonderful glowing experiences during the week. The party's over. Back to work.

What can one do when exhaustion arises, but sit down and rest so one is ready for what the next day brings. That we did, that we did.

Lucky Us

You have been asking how things are going at the Pink Ribbon Spa. Well, for two of us, we have been blessed beyond belief to be able to share this with our cousin. If you want to hear about it from her perspective, go to http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/barbaraz. or click on the title above.

Transportation FUBAR

"I'm not an animal, I'm just using one for transportation." Yah, well sometimes the ride sucks.

Cancer is what it is- a nasty accident of nature that thrusts its unwilling hosts into the HUGE project of learning about, undergoing, and then surviving surgery and chemotherapy. It is exhausting, disgusting, depleting, and discouraging- everything to a human psyche that it is to the cancer cells.

But how to move to a place where cancer is only what it is, and not the center of the universe? I had the experience of having my body's ill become the center of the universe this summer with my mesenteric lipoma and the dire admonitions of my gastroenterologist.

The thing hurts, and it scared the bejesis out of me at first, but somehow, I put it back in its place- another one of the obnoxious but inevitable impedements to my mission in life, and not the center of the universe. By getting the mission back into focus, the lipoma shrunk back to its actual size from the huge thing it had become.

So now, how to help cousin Barb shrink the cancer and the chemo to the size of what they are: just a very obnoxious but inevitable impedement to serving her mission while here on earth and inhabiting the flesh. Oh, and by the way, while living in the flesh, because it is so unreliable, I have decided that complaining IS allowed.

Why I'm Glad I am 60 (Click Here)

Embedded in the title is the link to an article that adds to my joy at living unencumbered by the biological imperatives of childrearing and wage-earning in 2007. Imagine buying in to any of these social networks! Talk about the Emperor's New Clothes!!!!

The article is both funny and terrifying. The youngblood writing it has a very entertaining style and a devilish command of the vernacular. Laugh or shudder as you will.

Oh, and the article goes a long way in explaining the growing attraction to Zen Buddhism in the U.S. In the ancient Orient, monks shaved their heads upon entering the monastery as a way of giving up external clues referencing the social networks of the day. Perhaps today's budding Buddhists are taking a similar stance. (Though in my case, the initial attraction was respite from incessant noise- verbal and otherwise).

This post does no service whatsoever to the beautiful and spiritually rich day I had with my cousin and sister at the Pink Ribbon Spa. The memories of the day are sparkling and untouched by the ludicrousness of popular culture ala consumerism.

Pink Ribbon Spa Grand Opening

The Pink Ribbon Spa had its opening today with first customer, cousin Barb. The art girls were in rare form, laughing, arting, and participating full measure in the opening. It was so good to see my cousin, spunky, though tired after a two-hop flight. No small achievement for one so recently off of chemo. Her day ended with a foot bath and massage. Tomorrow- the Labyrinth and Stations of the Cross at the Redemptorist Center. That and healing sunshine.

The Pink Ribbon Spa

My cousin will be coming to our house soon for a break between breast cancer chemotherapy rounds. My sister and I had a wonderful time dreaming up the Pink Ribbon Spa today- everything we could think of that might help someone trying to regenerate healthy cells after having them rudely destroyed by the drugs that kill cancer cells.

Here is the list: 1. Laugh Therapy- all of the funny (I mean low humor belly laugh funny) movies we could think of. Suggestions welcome. 2. Art Therapy- duh! 3. Music Therapy- duh, again! 4. Hands-on prayer 5. Meditation 6. Massage (friend Brenda donated use of her massage table) 7. Healthy food (though her appetite is not back yet). 8. Rude bodily function humor (though she is more refined than we are due to her amazingly graceful mother Sue (not a genetic Wickham) 9. ENP (every nap possible).

Other suggestions are welcome. Please stop what you are doing right now, and spend just a minute praying, intentioning, wishing, or creating whatever form of higher-self energy you know to send blessings toward her recovery.

The family that plays together, stays together

Discussion with fellow elders about our childrens' "birthright:"

In our consumerist, and familially fragmented culture, we do not bestow birthright financially as in days past when the children gave the work of their lives to the family estate. Today, their birthright has more to do with identity.

Identity is a very necessary commodity in a culture where staying sane is a full-time, fully demanding job in and of itself. The survival benefit of family membership today is not acreage, but identity: belonging.

In our family, much intention and financial resource is invested in providing emotional "home," in the form of rest, play, and wherever possible, community industry. The hope is that family identity will give the younger ones shelter against existential angst, which is as much a threat to survival as starvation was in a time of less material plenty.

Is this really zen? Hmmmm. The identity of which I speak is ego-based. However, it is my observation that enlightenment arises late in the journey of a well-traveled ego. The Buddha's for example.

Illusions of Separateness

In an earlier post, I mentioned my cousin who is undergoing chemotherapy, and is sharing her experience with friends and family through the internet.

Her hair is falling out on schedule. She is outside in her wooded yard, brushing her hair, and the clumps which fall are shared with the birds (and squirrels) who are busy building warm nests for winter. Separateness (created by a thin pane of glass) is revealed as an illusion. The oneness of all beings is thus exposed.

The beauty of my cousin is that vanity has not prevented her (and therefore us) from being present to the experience of losing her hair. She is a bald monk, and doesn't even know it!!!!