<<Love, feel love, care for that feeling, keep it in. So you can smile. Smile. Talking, it goes away?>>
I'd love to write but how wrong this feels? Feels like I cannot write something I would want to read again.
horrible, grandma Ann energized
for me? All the voices. Do not like phone calls, emails, voices in the house?
[I've now escaped to L's. Only a cat and worms (from JM / enchanted garden) and smaller insects. None speak that I can hear. The cat watches from dark under sofa. (still there!)]
--writing here exaggerates.
Mom is sad I do not like to call--she did not say, but seems clear. I do not enjoy the check in, retrospectively, partly: ever I say the wrong thing for her. Not always, but one cannot really relax if interlocutor [my friends it seems a bit of magic that word came to me. Phrasal memory? Truly, in writing, begin, and find one can have a converstion with self.] is not at ease, is harmed by you.--and I am not where I like to selflessly call. . . as my dad does every Sunday for gann and me. I _could_ be there, and hold the conversation with only the other's happiness in mind, but have yet to try that.
I never want to call. Never?
only when I've walked all day and not seen a soul and wish some distraction from myself. Only then.
I will write though. And sometimes they will too. It may take me a while, but I will, and generally find the time meaningful. Even very.
So now it's here, it's written, and can tell others I'll only call when very lonely/ want escape from self?
Mom is in a quiet house in the country with only my sister and [her] husband a mile away, and because I never visit or talk, do not know how friendly they are--.
I imagine it is the isolation I'd feel if I worked in one place, lived in another--in a place by myself. As it is, my grandma and cat are there. And when she's gone--a sweetness, sort of. But how long till that would rub off.
---
using the phone to read blogs, felt a bit of unease. Now is time to spend with dad?
Well, he seems to be a buddha sort of. A happy soul these days when he did not used to be. (and healthy!)
---
well. I know I'm lucky to have these relatives. But I don't do the 'quality time-spending'? For me, it is bits of time here and there that add up if we live together. Or if we must go to hospital. If no live near, then write.
And L and occasional others? May be we can be near and appreciate presences, without doing or talking. Special trips rarely. Just the daily life.
The trap of the holidays becoming clearer? Relatives, special events, quality time. Sometimes that is realized.
Well. I'll not explain the trap.
How to act then if you know it? Run away? Savor loneliness at this time? Use it to be with whoever's near, however distant, the homeless guy in the park.
Do not travel.
Be alone.
Care for the pets or livestock of those who do not follow this voice.
Love, feel love, care for that feeling, keep it in. So you can smile. Smile. Talking, it goes away?
Believe I have some truth here, though it seems all life says the opposite. . . Believe I have some truth here.
Wherefore relatives? What do we share? Life examples? And that is what I have to give? And how much I have learned from housebound old women, once young pretties, about a possible way of being? Why are you out rushing aroung young pretties if this is where you'll end up? Alone in a house with a cat and a phone and a TV. And--
more time endless time endless endless time
the new young ones build communities though, live carfree, do not get stuck isolated (they rush around now to make that possible) [or join monasteries?]
----
wherefore relatives? More variety on the trail. Good to have the option, a christmas alone, one with them, or one with both as this one has been.
Again, no reverence here? Can I revere my mother, my dad, my grandmas, my grandad, my sisters, their husbands, uncles, aunts, cousins, aunt's dogs. . . aunt's grad students. . .
more than being a monk, helping one's relatives learn dharma--
must live it oneself.
No, I don't make them suffer by non-participation, non-contribution, non-travel, non-etc.
so we'll see
eventually I'll be out on my ear?
will there be another family there?
I respect my dad and his success and personal well-being and participation in the emergent culture. Should I make more of a point to know him, to spend time?
if any of them die, any regrets?
----
[the earlier, and not worth reading--except the Dostoyevsky--part follows.]
-----------------------------------------------------
A disconnecting day? Many voices.
Got on Internet, had been a while. Spent $44 on LED light--see delicio links. No need to spend so much, but that's done. Always I fear computer time. So easy to send emails, spend $$. And emails generate emails. Also: added $25 to phone this AM and paid for 200 msgs (-$5).
Talked to JM ( thesetruths.com ?). We had a phone date--215PM it turned out. Spoke about neighborhood doorknocking.
Then to my mom. Missed trip with dad and G Ann to Point Loma.
With deadline of the ninth to be at monastery [there is] a bit of pressure to get things done, get camping gear in order. May go up the day before and camp nearby to help begin the transition.
here's more from _the brothers k_, Dostoyevsky, A MacAndrew, trans.
------
"Raising up his soul from vileness
Reaching for his human worth,
Man must enter an alliance
With eternal Mother Earth. . ."
(Schiller's 'Hymn to Joy'?)
"But what makes it hard for me is that I don't know how I could possibly enter that eternal alliance with Mother Earth. I don't kiss Mother Earth, I don't plow her soil . . . Should I, then, become a peasant, a shepherd, or what?"
"And I was also instinctively aware that this little Katya was no innocent schoolgirl but a person with a strong character, a truly honorable young lady, and, above all, someone with both a good education and an acute intelligence, whereas I had neither."
"For the last time--there is no God."
"Well, for your information, Alexei, your dear brother is a low, despicable man."
"In his fervent prayer, he did not ask God to clear up his confusion, but only sought the rapture he always experienced in the glorification of God, of which his nightly prayers consisted."
"Here I've written you a love letter. My God, what have I done!"
"So, until we meet, until that *terrifying* moment,"
"Have mercy upon them all, O Lord. Save them, the unhappy and the tormented. Guide them onto the path that is right for each one of them, according to Your wisdom. You are love. You will bring joy and happiness to all . . ."
"What? You're leaving me now? So that's the way you are!"
"I'm *sorry* for him, and that doesn't go well with love."
"In a flash her expression changed and her tears vanished without a trace."
"Pay no attention to women's tears, Alexi;"
"The extraordinarily beautiful, gentle eyes of the crippled girl looked at Aloysha with infinite serenity."
"Well, in the evening I took my son out for a walk. I must tell you at this point that the two of us had been going out for a walk every evening before that, following roughly the path that you and I are taking now; from our gate to that big rock over there, see the one by the fence where the town pasture begins. It's a deserted spot and very nice."
[like to note some of the great pedestrian moments / settings in carfree lit.]
"You know, Alexei, twice before in my life I began to go mad and had to be put under medical care."
L: "And another thing, Alyosha, you'll have to do what I tell you, do you agree to that? That must be settled in advance."
A: [. . .]
L: "And that's just as it should be. Now, as for me, I'm prepared to give in to you not only on that most important point but on every point and in everything, and I swear right now that that's the way it will be as long as I live!"
"I've always thought that, before anything else, people should learn to love life in this world."
"But then, what about the children? How will we ever account for their sufferings?"
[reminded of Jensen's _The Culture of Make Believe_]
----
so what makes a good day for me? A bit of socializing and exercise in morning and evening and the rest silent contemplation, reading, working on projects?
and, oh, was a bit on the verge of mania. Get excited having a future plan and telling some about it.
well. Beginning to prepare. Adds variety to the terrain, anticipating and preparing for challenge.
---
peace & creative love,
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
_The Brothers Karamazov_ A MacAndrew,tr.
The only news: Deer Park Monastery has confirmed: I go there on 1/9! Nothing else I feel like writing at the moment. Below are parts of _the brothers K_ I typed in.
---
"Even though sin and injustice and temptation are all around us, we know that there is on this earth a holy man, a saint who is just and knows the truth, and this means that truth and justice have not vanished from the earth and so will come to us too and rule over all the world, as has been promised."
[TNH helps me feel this way]
"A man who lies to himself, and believes his own lies, becomes unable to recognize truth, either in himself or in anyone else, and he ends up losing respect for himself as well as for others. When he has no respect for anyone, he can no longer love and, in order to divert himself, having no love in him, he yields to his impulses, indulges in the lowest forms of pleasure, and behaves in the end like an animal, in satisfying his vices. And it all comes from lying--lying to others and to yourself."
[don't know if I'm lying to self or just unsure what truth might be/ how to live it. . .]
"And if you think I look cheerful, nothing you say could give me more pleasure. For human beings were created to be happy, and those who are perfectly happy are entitled to say to themselves: 'I have carried out God's will on this earth.' The righteous, the saints, the holy martyrs--they were all happy people."
"By acts of love. Try to love your neighbors, love them actively and unceasingly. And as you learn to love them more and more, you will be more and more convinced of the existence of God and of the immortality of your soul. And if you achieve complete self-abnegation in your love for your fellow man, you will certainly gain faith, and then there will be no room in your soul for any doubt whatsoever. This has been tested. This is the true way."
[how serious is Dostoyevsky (through this character)? We know he's a trickster]
"all your good intentions will remain mere daydreams, and your whole life will slip by like a shadow."
"A true act of love, unlike imaginary love, is hard and forbidding."
"His face took on a grave and solemn expression, and this somehow made him look positively evil."
"Despise Grushenka? No, my friend, Dmitry doesn't despise her. How can he, when he obviously prefers her to the woman he's promised to marry?"
[her name I found amusing]
"Aloysha 'touched his very heart by being there, seeing everything, condemning nothing.' Moreover, Aloysha offered his father something that he had never had before--a complete absence of contempt for him. Indeed, Aloysha treated him with invariable kindness and a completely genuine and sincere affection, which Karamazov little deserved."
[could I do this for my friend? For myself?]
"Nevertheless, from the beginning of their married life, she had given in completely to his wishes and she respected him for his moral superiority."
[I have a sense of what that moral superiority might be like. I feel more like the wife--perhaps I'm 'more intelligent' but would defer to moral superiority if I knew it, found it, and could get self to defer. . . but that may not make sense.]
"As a matter of fact, Aloysha was convinced that there was not a man in the whole world who would wish to offend him or, for that matter, who could offend him. He had accepted that once and for all as a self-evident truth, and so he had no misgivings now on his way to his father's house."
"So he went the back way, ignoring the streets, following deserted paths, climbing over fences, walking across other people's yards, but since he was well known and liked in town no one objected--people simply waved at him."
"But falling in love with someone doesn't mean loving that person. It's possible to fall in love and to hate at the same time--I want you to remember that."
[hating what a slave one is? One's dependence?]
[I'm aware there was an odd note in my last post: "the drama with L is probably not over yet. . .": not exactly a reverent tone. . . It seems I take nothing truly seriously? Even when I was remorseful about that email I sent I was laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole thing? So, true reverence, and true love. . . I found you in music, in singing, in childhood love. . . What does it take to feel and sustain awe. . . My life here is quite petty. Rather different in the isolation of the mountains? Well, will keep this question in mind.]
---
I'm at L's apt this afternoon. Deposited checks from CC work: +$450. Sounds different here. The howls of the Verizon sign dancer (see photos) can be heard from here. He has amazing energy (howls last 10 - 15 - 18 seconds at a time?). An interesting example of commercial public 'art'. And he's out there for hours with all the cars and their fumes (If he did not have the sign the police would take him away? They handcuffed a jesus guy out there one night, but he had a megaphone). Wind chimes, metal, wood. Engines at the intersection of College & El Cajon. Sun filters through window shades, tattered venetian blinds. The walls, two an almost neon green, two a slightly greener green. Ceiling white. My feet on the couch, back on a rug on a wood floor, head on two pillows, the instrument, the one I'm using, between me and the south-facing windows. An oblong mirror on the green wall above my feet reflects white ceiling. I visited a different dumpster today. May do the long walk this evening. Has been a while. Did not lift today and not really the day before. Dad arrives. Wrote Jasmine. Email-introduced her to Mike, another Portland friend from here.
---
Peace & creative love,
---
"Even though sin and injustice and temptation are all around us, we know that there is on this earth a holy man, a saint who is just and knows the truth, and this means that truth and justice have not vanished from the earth and so will come to us too and rule over all the world, as has been promised."
[TNH helps me feel this way]
"A man who lies to himself, and believes his own lies, becomes unable to recognize truth, either in himself or in anyone else, and he ends up losing respect for himself as well as for others. When he has no respect for anyone, he can no longer love and, in order to divert himself, having no love in him, he yields to his impulses, indulges in the lowest forms of pleasure, and behaves in the end like an animal, in satisfying his vices. And it all comes from lying--lying to others and to yourself."
[don't know if I'm lying to self or just unsure what truth might be/ how to live it. . .]
"And if you think I look cheerful, nothing you say could give me more pleasure. For human beings were created to be happy, and those who are perfectly happy are entitled to say to themselves: 'I have carried out God's will on this earth.' The righteous, the saints, the holy martyrs--they were all happy people."
"By acts of love. Try to love your neighbors, love them actively and unceasingly. And as you learn to love them more and more, you will be more and more convinced of the existence of God and of the immortality of your soul. And if you achieve complete self-abnegation in your love for your fellow man, you will certainly gain faith, and then there will be no room in your soul for any doubt whatsoever. This has been tested. This is the true way."
[how serious is Dostoyevsky (through this character)? We know he's a trickster]
"all your good intentions will remain mere daydreams, and your whole life will slip by like a shadow."
"A true act of love, unlike imaginary love, is hard and forbidding."
"His face took on a grave and solemn expression, and this somehow made him look positively evil."
"Despise Grushenka? No, my friend, Dmitry doesn't despise her. How can he, when he obviously prefers her to the woman he's promised to marry?"
[her name I found amusing]
"Aloysha 'touched his very heart by being there, seeing everything, condemning nothing.' Moreover, Aloysha offered his father something that he had never had before--a complete absence of contempt for him. Indeed, Aloysha treated him with invariable kindness and a completely genuine and sincere affection, which Karamazov little deserved."
[could I do this for my friend? For myself?]
"Nevertheless, from the beginning of their married life, she had given in completely to his wishes and she respected him for his moral superiority."
[I have a sense of what that moral superiority might be like. I feel more like the wife--perhaps I'm 'more intelligent' but would defer to moral superiority if I knew it, found it, and could get self to defer. . . but that may not make sense.]
"As a matter of fact, Aloysha was convinced that there was not a man in the whole world who would wish to offend him or, for that matter, who could offend him. He had accepted that once and for all as a self-evident truth, and so he had no misgivings now on his way to his father's house."
"So he went the back way, ignoring the streets, following deserted paths, climbing over fences, walking across other people's yards, but since he was well known and liked in town no one objected--people simply waved at him."
"But falling in love with someone doesn't mean loving that person. It's possible to fall in love and to hate at the same time--I want you to remember that."
[hating what a slave one is? One's dependence?]
[I'm aware there was an odd note in my last post: "the drama with L is probably not over yet. . .": not exactly a reverent tone. . . It seems I take nothing truly seriously? Even when I was remorseful about that email I sent I was laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole thing? So, true reverence, and true love. . . I found you in music, in singing, in childhood love. . . What does it take to feel and sustain awe. . . My life here is quite petty. Rather different in the isolation of the mountains? Well, will keep this question in mind.]
---
I'm at L's apt this afternoon. Deposited checks from CC work: +$450. Sounds different here. The howls of the Verizon sign dancer (see photos) can be heard from here. He has amazing energy (howls last 10 - 15 - 18 seconds at a time?). An interesting example of commercial public 'art'. And he's out there for hours with all the cars and their fumes (If he did not have the sign the police would take him away? They handcuffed a jesus guy out there one night, but he had a megaphone). Wind chimes, metal, wood. Engines at the intersection of College & El Cajon. Sun filters through window shades, tattered venetian blinds. The walls, two an almost neon green, two a slightly greener green. Ceiling white. My feet on the couch, back on a rug on a wood floor, head on two pillows, the instrument, the one I'm using, between me and the south-facing windows. An oblong mirror on the green wall above my feet reflects white ceiling. I visited a different dumpster today. May do the long walk this evening. Has been a while. Did not lift today and not really the day before. Dad arrives. Wrote Jasmine. Email-introduced her to Mike, another Portland friend from here.
---
Peace & creative love,
Monday, December 29, 2008
ahoy
Was at Point Loma for a night (Saturday). Grandparents, drama, aunts, uncle, cousin. Got responses to the foolish email, sent reply, got wise, reconciling reply from L. Email foolishness not a reason for an end in this case. [In response,] Wrote four drafts, only sent the fourth (the third failed to send immediately, giving me another look). The fourth, just a 'thank you!' and 'see you when you get back' (the whole experience was rather emotional and meaningful, but after puzzling over three drafts, attempting to be more coherent and less passionate, I realized there was no point in drawing things out--I wrote foolishly partly because I missed her and wasn't self-aware enough at the time to say simply that. The only resolution really is to wait for her return. Not sure what the value of email is in this case. Her response [the wise one, already mentioned], somewhat amazing and comforting--she even welcomed my writing again and said she'd try to read more open-mindedly. A sort of email aikido--there is no resistance, nothing to push against there. Instead of continuing the foolishness, she raises the quality, thoughtfulness of the interaction. And she showed she does read the emails and does care--I did not entirely expect that.). Picked Macadamias in Pt Loma cyn. Emails from Jasmine, Don-- inbox a bit like a good novel. Returning to Acorn & Seminole, ate a lot. Later left, got sour cream. Dumpster greens, got earlier: good spinach, lettuce. Many people visit this dumpster [but I live very close by--can check it each walk if I have no higher purpose]. Yesterday it was mostly full of bananas. At evening visit to cat, looked at L's books: inner child, _magister ludi_, nietszche, dostoyevski. Later got into _brothers K_. Ate too much cream, I'm sure. Won't get so much again.
So, all in all, not much news. Haven't got to look at link Gianni sent: portablefarms.com.
Walking now. Will probably do exercises, swim, etc. Dad arrives tomorrow evening.
Will not be able to get away with filling mind with books forever. But at least I got out [of the house]. May think some creative thoughts now or just enjoy whatever is happening. Eating--probably the greatest recent foolishness.
No response from Deer Park yet. That will be quite a change. What is there to do in meantime? Money will be a main concern soon enough. But, waiting, more challenge course jobs may come along. If it works out, long-term monastery non-monk residence appears to be <$300/mo + work. Not sure what I'll think of it after two weeks there. How will I be affected by those I meet. Drama with L probably not over yet, love and desire.
Imagine either I'll like it there (@Deer Park) very much, or develop renewed appreciation for extra-monastery life, or develop new connections, new visions, and progress to some newer synthesis of the two. May meet good laypeople who open new possibilities.
In the meantime, try not to eat too much, keep exercising. Sew those pants. Feed the cat. Read _Brothers K_. Maybe think about finances. Write Don, Jasmine. Should probably call mom, but I tend to avoid calling anyone. Could talk to J about meeting in Balboa Park the 6th.
In many ways, it is very (very) nice here at the moment. There is no fire to get me to keep working on getting a shipping job.
The city-funded park leafblowing just started--motivation to move on. [Later it stopped, and Jim L from SDSU Aztec Adventures and dog came by and said hi.]
------
Here are parts of _the brothers K_ I felt like typing in:
"Alyosha," Miusov declared, "may be the only man in the world who, if left all by himself in the middle of a strange city inhabited by a million unknown people, would never suffer from cold or hunger. For he would immediately be offered food and shelter; and if no one offered him anything, he would find everything he needed right away himself, and it would cost him no effort, nor make him feel in the least humiliated, nor, for that matter, would he be imposing himself on others; just the contrary, they would all be only too happy to do things for him." _The Brothers Karamazov_ Dostoyevsky; AH MacAndrew, translator.
"What precisely is an elder, then? An elder is a man who takes your soul and your will into his soul and his will. Once you have chosen your elder, you renounce your own will, you yield it to him in total submission and self-renunciation. A man who consents to this ordeal, to this terrible apprenticeship, is willing to bear it in the hope that, after a long period of trial, he will conquer himself and achieve a self-mastery that will enable him to finally attain, through a whole life of obedience, complete freedom (that is, freedom from himself) and thus avoid the fate of those who reach the end of their lives without ever having found themselves within themselves." Ibid.
----
[wishing us]
Peace and creative love and enough mindfulness to be aware of them [I'm working on the latter at the moment],
So, all in all, not much news. Haven't got to look at link Gianni sent: portablefarms.com.
Walking now. Will probably do exercises, swim, etc. Dad arrives tomorrow evening.
Will not be able to get away with filling mind with books forever. But at least I got out [of the house]. May think some creative thoughts now or just enjoy whatever is happening. Eating--probably the greatest recent foolishness.
No response from Deer Park yet. That will be quite a change. What is there to do in meantime? Money will be a main concern soon enough. But, waiting, more challenge course jobs may come along. If it works out, long-term monastery non-monk residence appears to be <$300/mo + work. Not sure what I'll think of it after two weeks there. How will I be affected by those I meet. Drama with L probably not over yet, love and desire.
Imagine either I'll like it there (@Deer Park) very much, or develop renewed appreciation for extra-monastery life, or develop new connections, new visions, and progress to some newer synthesis of the two. May meet good laypeople who open new possibilities.
In the meantime, try not to eat too much, keep exercising. Sew those pants. Feed the cat. Read _Brothers K_. Maybe think about finances. Write Don, Jasmine. Should probably call mom, but I tend to avoid calling anyone. Could talk to J about meeting in Balboa Park the 6th.
In many ways, it is very (very) nice here at the moment. There is no fire to get me to keep working on getting a shipping job.
The city-funded park leafblowing just started--motivation to move on. [Later it stopped, and Jim L from SDSU Aztec Adventures and dog came by and said hi.]
------
Here are parts of _the brothers K_ I felt like typing in:
"Alyosha," Miusov declared, "may be the only man in the world who, if left all by himself in the middle of a strange city inhabited by a million unknown people, would never suffer from cold or hunger. For he would immediately be offered food and shelter; and if no one offered him anything, he would find everything he needed right away himself, and it would cost him no effort, nor make him feel in the least humiliated, nor, for that matter, would he be imposing himself on others; just the contrary, they would all be only too happy to do things for him." _The Brothers Karamazov_ Dostoyevsky; AH MacAndrew, translator.
"What precisely is an elder, then? An elder is a man who takes your soul and your will into his soul and his will. Once you have chosen your elder, you renounce your own will, you yield it to him in total submission and self-renunciation. A man who consents to this ordeal, to this terrible apprenticeship, is willing to bear it in the hope that, after a long period of trial, he will conquer himself and achieve a self-mastery that will enable him to finally attain, through a whole life of obedience, complete freedom (that is, freedom from himself) and thus avoid the fate of those who reach the end of their lives without ever having found themselves within themselves." Ibid.
----
[wishing us]
Peace and creative love and enough mindfulness to be aware of them [I'm working on the latter at the moment],
Saturday, December 27, 2008
1/09|DbStndrd|Joy inCreation of culture
<<there is something about the joyful reproduction or creation of culture that is at the root of any friendship or partnering--and at the root of my being so lost, so non-participating.>>
Sitting in quiet park (a special circumstance), facing low south sun, close hill with houses, bright grassy outfield, sparkled blacktop to my bare knees.
Will kata, yog, ballet soon, I imagine. It is 0916. First walkers and a dog now, 'Good Morning!', and I've been here a while. Bare foot in sun. Eileen the cat attacked that foot and the other one, not enough to damage. She spent the night outside.
Things are somewhat different now. Having a bit of a life plan. And even a reason to earn a bit.
Imagine I'll be somewhat more mindful, less dramatic, here and in the rest of life. Giving up, as it were, what has for me been a primary source of drama.
The memory of my own harmful-to-others(desire-[or something-]driven) mindlessness seems to be what motivates me to change--the fire I was wondering how to get on, the 'I need help'--and fortunately there was a place in mind believed helpful.
A lack of belief that two people outside of the sangha can do what needs to be done, can develop as is needed.
A seeing that peace must be every step, or you lose it, as I did. And can harm more than one's own self.
What this means for spontaneous, creative interaction? Well, I don't think, any more, I'll be going through that taciturn, too-cautious-to-speak-or-act (perhaps neo-buddhist) stage.
And how helpful or necessary is this memory of harm, this sense of possible harm?
I'm aware of how positive the quick play can be.
The harm was done after a loss, after a wished-for identification of the one harmed as self, and from a wish to change and control.
The harm was done [by me] to me [or to the relation], perhaps, far more than to the other[?], and the harm, now a useful feedback.
Not scoring points for coherence today perhaps. . . and what will become of this type of writing and publishing when I'm there at DPM?
I don't think I want to just sit. I think I'd like to keep this up, but probably could come to identify with other work.
I was concerned what I'd written here yesterday about family could cause harm. And causing harm, or potential harm, by writing here may continue to be an issue.
The main place where there may be harm by writing here is in interpersonal relations, close, intimate relations, where trust can be damaged.
And there are incidents of unhelpful speech I've left in old published pages. Some of the newer stuff too.
But so much / all of that shows my hypocrisy ['double-standard' is probably the more appropriate word]--wanting others to accept my difference or lack of culture while not accepting theirs. Every incident I recall seems to fit that statement,
And what of standards of care/treatment, of improvement, . . . pretty sure all that will still work and occur. [a leaving-behind of Jensen's 'culture of make-believe', of culture of self- and other-destruction?]
it remains to be seen whether this is a progression for me: Is this a point of growth I'll be able to look back on? Etc.
---
I do think there is something about the joyful reproduction or creation of culture that is at the root of any friendship or partnering--and at the root of my being so lost, so non-participating. Were there no sangha. . . There is. Previously I was trying to see all things as the sangha. But the recent focus on working with others, on companionship, helps me to see I want to be with others who self-identify with the sangha, with their practices of mindfulness--that I do not wish to just trust in basic goodness and my own (attemps at) mindful practice to generate peaceful and creatively loving sangha wherever I go. My recent foolishness helped coffin that idea.
peace & creative love,
--------------------
[from yesterday afternoon and evening:]
Subject: 2009-01-09
Maybe I'll be at Deer Park Monastery that day for the start of a two-week retreat in a tent.
My remorse or embarassment at what I wrote L certainly helped me register (-$350). I need help. And looking over their web pages and how they've changed since I last visited: these are many good people doing good things.
There was a hint too of: I don't want life to be all happy-smiley. It won't be, even there. Maybe I can fit in with these good people and become a more helpful, positive person.
---
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Well, two weeks to sew, and may as well work on the maritime program app and refs. For now, though, a break? Read Richard Henry Dana or _Infinite Jest_? Eat? Will I walk long?
--------
2008-12-26-1739 Reading why Kate Gompert wanted to kill herself is calming oddly. My mind's been running. Been eating hurridly. Feeling a bit bad, down, but knowing it will pass. An impersonal xmas card[?]. Memories of other unmindful speech [a cause?]. Not wanting peace, wanting things to happen--(such as) a discussion and recognition of suffering.
Unmindful speech one of my greatest challenges. Time to end the experiment of writing and speaking out? That doesn't suit me now.
Needing help.
"I'd rather feel nothing than this." _Infinite Jest_
Not my case, but does get me considering what I'm feeling, what I've felt before.
------------
Peace, creative love,
Sitting in quiet park (a special circumstance), facing low south sun, close hill with houses, bright grassy outfield, sparkled blacktop to my bare knees.
Will kata, yog, ballet soon, I imagine. It is 0916. First walkers and a dog now, 'Good Morning!', and I've been here a while. Bare foot in sun. Eileen the cat attacked that foot and the other one, not enough to damage. She spent the night outside.
Things are somewhat different now. Having a bit of a life plan. And even a reason to earn a bit.
Imagine I'll be somewhat more mindful, less dramatic, here and in the rest of life. Giving up, as it were, what has for me been a primary source of drama.
The memory of my own harmful-to-others(desire-[or something-]driven) mindlessness seems to be what motivates me to change--the fire I was wondering how to get on, the 'I need help'--and fortunately there was a place in mind believed helpful.
A lack of belief that two people outside of the sangha can do what needs to be done, can develop as is needed.
A seeing that peace must be every step, or you lose it, as I did. And can harm more than one's own self.
What this means for spontaneous, creative interaction? Well, I don't think, any more, I'll be going through that taciturn, too-cautious-to-speak-or-act (perhaps neo-buddhist) stage.
And how helpful or necessary is this memory of harm, this sense of possible harm?
I'm aware of how positive the quick play can be.
The harm was done after a loss, after a wished-for identification of the one harmed as self, and from a wish to change and control.
The harm was done [by me] to me [or to the relation], perhaps, far more than to the other[?], and the harm, now a useful feedback.
Not scoring points for coherence today perhaps. . . and what will become of this type of writing and publishing when I'm there at DPM?
I don't think I want to just sit. I think I'd like to keep this up, but probably could come to identify with other work.
I was concerned what I'd written here yesterday about family could cause harm. And causing harm, or potential harm, by writing here may continue to be an issue.
The main place where there may be harm by writing here is in interpersonal relations, close, intimate relations, where trust can be damaged.
And there are incidents of unhelpful speech I've left in old published pages. Some of the newer stuff too.
But so much / all of that shows my hypocrisy ['double-standard' is probably the more appropriate word]--wanting others to accept my difference or lack of culture while not accepting theirs. Every incident I recall seems to fit that statement,
And what of standards of care/treatment, of improvement, . . . pretty sure all that will still work and occur. [a leaving-behind of Jensen's 'culture of make-believe', of culture of self- and other-destruction?]
it remains to be seen whether this is a progression for me: Is this a point of growth I'll be able to look back on? Etc.
---
I do think there is something about the joyful reproduction or creation of culture that is at the root of any friendship or partnering--and at the root of my being so lost, so non-participating. Were there no sangha. . . There is. Previously I was trying to see all things as the sangha. But the recent focus on working with others, on companionship, helps me to see I want to be with others who self-identify with the sangha, with their practices of mindfulness--that I do not wish to just trust in basic goodness and my own (attemps at) mindful practice to generate peaceful and creatively loving sangha wherever I go. My recent foolishness helped coffin that idea.
peace & creative love,
--------------------
[from yesterday afternoon and evening:]
Subject: 2009-01-09
Maybe I'll be at Deer Park Monastery that day for the start of a two-week retreat in a tent.
My remorse or embarassment at what I wrote L certainly helped me register (-$350). I need help. And looking over their web pages and how they've changed since I last visited: these are many good people doing good things.
There was a hint too of: I don't want life to be all happy-smiley. It won't be, even there. Maybe I can fit in with these good people and become a more helpful, positive person.
---
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Well, two weeks to sew, and may as well work on the maritime program app and refs. For now, though, a break? Read Richard Henry Dana or _Infinite Jest_? Eat? Will I walk long?
--------
2008-12-26-1739 Reading why Kate Gompert wanted to kill herself is calming oddly. My mind's been running. Been eating hurridly. Feeling a bit bad, down, but knowing it will pass. An impersonal xmas card[?]. Memories of other unmindful speech [a cause?]. Not wanting peace, wanting things to happen--(such as) a discussion and recognition of suffering.
Unmindful speech one of my greatest challenges. Time to end the experiment of writing and speaking out? That doesn't suit me now.
Needing help.
"I'd rather feel nothing than this." _Infinite Jest_
Not my case, but does get me considering what I'm feeling, what I've felt before.
------------
Peace, creative love,
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