I was lonely, so

I went looking for my friend,

But when I arrived at the usual place,

all I found there

was the red lady.

All gone, she said,

Gone beyond, gone

beyond the beyond.


The air shifted, the speakers crackled

To life, the sound of deep voices


And a great wind blew through the space,

And all was still and silence.


My heart is full, dear one,

As I gaze into the space where I sought you.

Tears fall down my face.

But I have to get back to work.

Wheel of Existence

House of Cards

So, I spent another morning on Facebook. I think it’s probably a distraction for me – a distraction from being with myself. I won’t say that I don’t like me; that’s just not the deal. What it is, is that I am afraid, maybe. Existence comes with so many reminders of imperfection and decay. My left hip is tingling right now, just to remind me that someday my walking will be even worse than it is now. Hey, maybe I will even be in a wheelchair someday! Nothing I can do about it now except move in spite of it. The doctors can’t find anything going on there besides a touch of arthritis. So, ya know, just take the pills every day. And the pills cause damage too, while still allowing me to work and live a bit longer. But who knows when it all falls apart?

I am afraid.

I was sitting at practice this morning, and I had this glimpse of vision that the sadhana is like a house of cards – tenuous, illusory, fragile. But maybe the wisdom in that is the realization that existence itself has that same quality. It all falls apart. That it was ever in one piece is the miracle, and maybe the sadhana is an attempt to see the deity that exists in the worn-down, falling-apart existence that we so often wish to denigrate – the decay that we avoid seeing.

Reality appears to me in the form of a deity – shining with white light and with a compassionate face. He says, look: it’s all falling apart. This is the way things are. The sun rises and sets, mountains rise and fall, planets spin in their decaying orbits, and humans are born to die. The only ones upset by this are those who try to avoid this fact or take refuge in some form of salvation. Feel your heart and open your eyes. There is something you will never possess nor understand; take refuge in that. It’s ok to be afraid; find me in the fear.

Find reality within the fear.

When I find myself spinning my wheels, it seems like a good time to stop for a moment and touch my heart. Bringing my awareness into my body, into my heart center, gives me the stability to be present with this decaying body, this messy apartment, this messy fucked-up life. It lets me be present with my emotions without repressing them or acting them out. In short, being present allows me to see the sacredness of this existence and give all beings the respect they deserve.

As a practical application, being present with myself gives me the ability to stop spinning my wheels avoiding the present reality and apply myself to a path of study and practice. It allows me to see my own sacredness within the decay and imperfection of existence.

Picture credit: P. Roelli, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=392461

Tigers Above, Tigers Below

So, as I once heard, the story went like this: A young woman ran, pursued by a tiger, and climbed down a vine over the edge of a precipice as her pursuing tiger looked down on her from above. Looking down, she discovered another tiger waiting for her at the bottom of the precipice. Just then she noticed two mice, one black and one white, gnawing on the vine that held her above the ground. Casting about for what to do she spied a strawberry, plucked it and ate it. It was the sweetest strawberry she had ever tasted.

Here in a completely different life, but perhaps connected, I am waiting to hear from Social Security about whether I still have an income. They asked for information from me accounting for my various caregivers recently so that they can evaluate my disability status. I feel that they might decide I don’t need them anymore, but then what? So much of my survival is contingent on my SSI status – medicaid, food stamps, even rent assistance all hinges on it. And I don’t think I can get a job in NYC that will cover the loss of these services.

My life, as I know it now, hangs in the balance.

So, here I am on Youtube, listening to a crowd of people waiting for a concert to begin, singing Bohemian Rhapsody. And it is the sweetest sound I have ever heard.


White Pigeon

I gotta stop trying to preach at you folks, as if somehow I know things. All the time I’m trying to teach, I’m not saying anything. I might as well be farting- not even real down to earth honest farting that has a real aroma to it, and you can definitely say, “who farted?” but only some fake digital fart that you can’t even point to.

So, I’m gonna stop doing that. Hopefully, from now on, when I fart, you will know that I farted.


Today was good.

 After several days of sitting in, reading, getting nowhere in my studies, I got fed up with not having any of the food I’ve been craving – simple things really, a bit of chicken, some chocolate maybe, instead of the steady diet of end-of-the-month bologna, crackers, and processed cheese. I had roughly $20 in my account and tomorrow is the first, so I decided to splurge.

On my way to the store, I sat down by the Grand Concourse on one of the metal benches and watched the cars go by back and forth in front of me, making turns – and the people going by, crossing the intersection, singing to themselves, talking on their cell phones, walking with their kids… And the sun was rising to my left; I could see it out of the corner of my eye as I sat there in the shade, and eventually the light was in full force on my face, shining in my eyes.

In that brief moment, I tried to understand how I could be not-seeing the beings in front of me. Beings are right there, aren’t they? I know that I am projecting onto them, but they are still there, right? But what’s there beyond my projection? What is really there?

I think it’s all changing. We exist in a state of flux. Perhaps we are not individuals, but rather processes. But all I see, I am told, is a series of snapshots. So I sat there, watching and trying to understand that I wasn’t really seeing. And then, a white pigeon waddled towards me, shining in the rising light. As I watched it, it crossed in front of me, and then as a bus approached the curb, it flew suddenly, up and away, it’s wings flashing. And I thought, maybe that’s it.

And the sun shone full on my face, and it was warm. So I got up and walked to the store.

Tara, embodiment of the goodness within all of us, you exist in the nirmanakaya as the rising full moon. Help me to see clearly and to communicate goodness to suffering beings.


“I look at you all; see the love there that’s sleeping…”

I watched the debate tonight. Along with many of my friends, I reacted with the expected horror at the continued inability of our would-be leaders to understand the implications of their behavior. And yes, as a socially liberal New Yorker, I think you know who I was rooting for, and also at whom I spent that two-hour span throwing my derision. Yes, I had fun exorcising my horror at the current state of political affairs. My friends and I bolstered one another’s sense of humor in the face of circumstances that seem incredibly horrible.

But today is John Lennon’s birthday, so if only in honor of him, I feel ready to calm down and look at the situation. What I see is suffering beings. On all sides of the Hillary (and/or Bernie) v. Trump situation, I see fear. I don’t understand all the causes and conditions for this, but I do know that those who would cause suffering are themselves suffering. It’s sort of like the physical property of equal and opposite force: the pressure inside a structure must be equal and opposite to the pressure applied from the outside or a structure will not maintain coherence.

Think about it for a moment: the suffering we feel inflicted on us is equal in force to the suffering we would cause in turn upon beings around us. That some of that suffering actually comes from within doesn’t matter; we still react to it, and those reactions cause suffering.

All I know for sure is this: I am afraid. And the people on the “other” side are afraid. And the people who seem to be egging on the people of whom I am afraid are themselves afraid. And if we are afraid, then there must be something we think we must protect. We love our children, our way of life, our connection to the divine. We all have a sense of something good; something worthy of our care.

As we enter the last few weeks of the election cycle, I feel that it is important to contemplate the suffering of those who seem frightening to me, and to realize that this suffering joins us together in basic goodness.

Please get out there and vote. But please also try to be gentle in spirit towards those who frighten you.

Nothing else really helps.


Not Much Going On

It’s a beautiful day, and I am out walking around near the George Washington houses- this old old stone tunnel and then the view of the Bridge, and the steep hill on Lexington Ave. And I can see myself looking at all the special things as if somehow I could hold onto them- as if life’s meaning were answered by all the special things one could observe and really notice.
What’s it like to drop that? To not be looking for or at anything in particular but to be somehow seeing everything?

And now sitting here near my home, noticing the aversion to that asshole walking down the Grand Concourse with his loud stereo. Fuck him, you know?

I wonder if it’s ok somehow- all this averting and grasping. Maybe that’s the spice in the meal of life. But even that seems like something I could grab onto.

Perhaps just to let it all go- the grasping, the averting, the thinking about the grasping and averting- perhaps that would just leave me sitting here on a bench near the bus stop on the Grand Concourse, doing it all and somehow not doing anything.

To Be Held is Not to Live Forever

I cannot help but grieve the death of brilliance.
Something is tethered to my heart
and won’t let go, you pull
that string with you into the unknown never.
I cannot follow it.

Teacher, will you hold me in your heart?
To be held is not to live forever, but to follow,
fearless, the ones who go before.

My comfort is this: to breathe through the tears.
Although I see the unknown stretch before me,
still the empty blackness of your eyes,
the unknown always,
is wrapped around this frightened rabbit like a shawl,
heart beating fast.
“Be still,
still, my darling, sweetheart, shhh…”

Rising Water

When the waters rise, where will you be?
Swept away, or
On high ground, waiting…
The fissure widens between us,

My friends,
My beloved.
Where will we be?
At the end, when my soul cries out…

Can I touch your hand?
It’s all we have now.
Eternities crumble.

I see the mountains falling
Into the sea,
But I must run errands today,
And tomorrow.
Where will I be?

Plans Fall Apart; Life Happens

So I went on retreat this week: cat-sitting for a friend. I was going to explore some practices and study related to an assembly I am going to in July. The whole thing fell apart in the first day. I figured out very quickly how to undo the block I had set on my phone and now I am watching Netflix. I think what happened was that I was too gung-ho about it, but also, I think I really needed time that was just mine, to relax; space that is mine, sort of.

Also, I think, I placed so much energy into the Buddhism project, and it’s not about that. I was looking for something real, and what I took refuge in, the Three Jewels, is real, but it’s not. It’s just another finger pointing to the moon, but it’s not the moon. It’s just existence. It’s just the moment, sitting here tapping on the phone while the tuxedo kitty sits on the windowsill nearby. It’s the light filtered through buildings into the window and reflecting off of the floor and walls. it’s the leather couch. It’s a relaxed body, and head and neck bent at a weird angle by the armrest.

Maybe it’s also the fretting that I have to be doing something; the worry that my life isn’t going anywhere.

Maybe it’s that, and also coming back from that.

And then, toasted roll with butter and scrambled eggs.