Learning the craft

        And I was doing so well.  Just had a blissful Sunday. Normally, I would have gone to someone's meditation and sat with them for a long while but my heart was into just being and not doing.  The day passed in exquisite fashion until the call came from a neighbor about having a pow-wow about the neighborhood drama.  It revolves around  a wall built on property that allegedly belongs to a group of us. The reason we all own a piece is that the road in 1983 was not paved and somehow the group got the right to pave the road by buying  it. The new neighbor wanted to have a privacy fence so that his exotic jumping horses would not be spooked by cars or whatever riffraff were passing in front of the house. The fence was built, allegedly with some influence on the city at a meeting that caused the burden of proof about the fences height to be shifted from the builder of the fence to whomever objected. (I feel like a legal secretary about now.)
       Anyway, the neighbor objecting has a vast amount of experience in these matters and has pursued it with bulldog tenacity to where he has now decided to take it to court and buck it up to the appellate court, the court of record in which the rules of law are written into action.
       If you are still reading, I congratulate you on your persistence.
       What is being asked of the neighborhood is to sign on to this lawsuit.
       Personally I have been somewhat in the dark and depressed about taking my time to involve myself in this bit of politics. The possibility for acrimony, ill-will , and hard feelings is ripe in this situation.  None of which I could see as helping the healing process that my body needs. It needs compassion and I do not feel up to it.
      That and the drugs kicked in and no matter how good the meditation they can catch me up when something like this gets going. By last night I was in trouble.
       Physically felt fine today. Lifted weights,  got my vitamin C transfusion, the phlebotomist is getting really good with me--I did not even feel the needle. Then did some financial counseling with her.
       Called my friend W and she cheered me up and then gave me the idea that maybe we can sell this right of way to the man who built the fence.
       Went to hear the Jewish mystic so I could dance, and listen. He was wonderful; I felt rejuvenated. The story revolved around the metaphor for thinking horizontally and vertically. The horizontal thought process involves rational thinking and behavior judging, understanding and acting while the vertical thinking is allowing the spaciousness and light of God to shine into awareness. It was inspiring.
       Came home and realized that if we got this neighborhood group together I will propose some type of sale to the new neighbor. Give the bulk of the proceeds to the bulldog and everyone can walk away with their reputations intact and rewarded at the same time.
        I think it will be worth the effort, and who knows?

No need for words

The best way to die is to live well

       Taking pictures of the beautiful sunsets. Lots of yoga, African drumming in the park, phone in the hot tub, meditation, new ideas for the meditation room, gardening, Buddhist lectures on YouTube and buddhist geeks, scaring myself with impossible goals.
        Did yoga for a couple hours last night. This body has become exceptionally flexible and far less rigid. Did a yoga pose that I had never done before and as I relaxed into it realized how much fear is stored in that part of the body. The relaxation brought out the fear which with a deep breath and exhale diminished allowing for more depth into the pose . The asanas feel so good now.  I will do more this evening after digesting. Made Asparagus soup; the new no-no is canola oil. This presents a challenge since I have been using PAM to saute with. Olive oil is better but it burns at a lower temperature and requires watching.
        Meditation. - It has become a pleasure to observe the emotions. Where do the various emotions express themselves in the body? So when one of the afflictive emotions emerge, instead of fighting I am observing. The wonderful thing about impermanence is that everything changes.  Close observation is the key for me. Where is it located? Does the emotion talk or have pictures with it?  Listening to the voice for pitch and volume looking at the picture for clarity and intensity observing where the body responds and how much . They all constitute part of the experience. And is there a lot of them.
       Went hiking this afternoon, and while hiking listened to an African drummer in the Ramada.  Joined him for a jam session for an hour or so until I  got too cold. Nice guy named Quesey (KC) who taught me a few simple rhythms and we jammed on the two drums that he had there. Great fun. Seems there is a class 10:30 every Saturday at 16th and Jefferson in the park.
      Worked out in the yard to clear the dead wood and prepare for the growth of spring. Cutting the suckers now will let the stuff I want to grow have a good chance. Also got rid of a couple dead plants. The yard looks park-like again.
         Sat in the hot tub. Forgot the phone was in the towel and retrieved it after only a few seconds under water. It is now drying in a bowl of rice. May or may not work.  Lots of phone numbers to replace either way.
          Listened to Ajahn Brahm on YouTube. He is an Englishman who spent his life in a monastery in Thailand and now has his own center in Western Australia. Great speaker and fascinating talks. Between his talks and the talks on Buddhist Geeks, a website devoted to  Buddhist podcasts, I am delighted with how much has become available .
           One of the things about my meditation room is that it is particularly easy to walk into the meditation area without realizing that the space is different and the energy of the space is different. A room divider seems like the obvious solution. Since none of the ones that I have seen fit the bill I am going to make one. The current plan is to make a turnstile like affair with the center made of turned redwood and the arms of mahogany. Wood that I picked up from what others have thrown away. My own version of recycling.
          Wonderful day.

Doctor report

       This is a report of the visit with the Urologist  .
        His examination of the prostate indicated shrinkage which he labeled" dramatic".
       We even spoke of going off some of the drugs that are being given.

Getting what you ask for

      In the morning I asked for some sign that someone was actually looking at these words aside from myself.  These blogs are important to me as ways to express myself and maybe at some point give some insight to someone about the nature of what depths healing can come from and go into.
      This afternoon I received a beautiful email from an old friend  and a comment from another who read what I write and I found those the answer to my prayer. It also reminded me of a story.
      There was a high school English teacher several years ago who, in the middle of a long day, saw the rather dispirited way her class was acting and decided to change the assignment of the day from the usual to one of having each student write down something that they appreciated, respected, or liked about every other student in the class. The assignment went well and the teacher collected the papers. During the Christmas vacation that followed she took each of the papers cut them up and pasted all of each students comments about each individual onto a sheet that each individual could have that was written about them.
      At another rather slow day she passed the amalgamated papers of each person to the person about whom the comments were written.
      The teacher thought it went fairly well.
      Sadly, several years later she attended the funeral of one of those students who had been killed in Iraq. After the services the mother of the boy approached the teacher with a sheet of paper in her hand. The boy's mother gave it to the teacher who recognized the amalgamated work as the assignment she had given.
       The boy's mother said that her son had carried it with him always and had died with it in his pocket.
       The teacher was surprised when several of the boys fellow students started bringing forth their copies of the amalgamated paper. One told of how she had it framed and hanging prominently in her home. Another kept prominently displayed in his business. Every student had kept that list and valued it highly.
        Thank you.

        

FInding peace

 

      It's two in the morning and I have been through what is the emotional gymnastics that I formerly would have called suffering and which I would have avoided by stuffing my face with food, or having an diversion into sex.  It would have put off the suffering or at least avoided it for awhile but would have eventually caught up with me in some other difficult way. I would have felt isolated and abandoned.
      This time I watched as the issue of isolation came to the fore and felt how desperate that feeling is. To realize that I am alone and will probably spend the rest of my life that way used to fill me with dread, this evening it was the subject of meditation. It is not a cheerful prospect but it no longer one of dread, since living alone and dying alone is the way everyone does it. It is not the living alone of physical means since that is not what is important, but rather the dying alone that all of us must do.
       What happened this evening was on the order of both acceptance of dying alone and becoming at peace with it. Each person that one meets in the course of a day, be it the most intimate person one shares ones life with or the person one stares at the ceiling to avoid talking to in the elevator will die alone. My death must  be faced either voluntarily or involuntarily. I believe that I have chosen the path of wisdom by facing it voluntarily. By watching closely the physical reaction to the thoughts that formerly I avoided, by feeling where they are in the body, by breathing deeply into the sensations, the awesome dread that had been so prevalent becomes merely a set of sensations that are not significantly different than any other sets of sensations derived from other circumstances.
        There is a line about pain and gain being exactly the same. While the results are different, by closely examining what is happening in the body as a reaction it really seems similar. Faster breathing,tension in some area generally the chest, a reaction of the mind being carried away in the circumstances that occur. Dispassionately observed they certainly look the same.
          What suffering allows for  is the opportunity to be motivated enough to no longer avoid the suffering but rather  observe it closely enough to realize that the grasping mind is the cause of the suffering. By looking at how my body is changing and realizing that it cannot do the things it used to do I see that wanting things to be as they were leads me to suffer. By taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly into the morass of emotions and sensations I let go.
         The fear is palpable but that is just another series of sensations in the body. More suffering. The feeling of abandonment and isolation is intense. More suffering. At the very moment these are happening the body feels the sensations as neither good nor bad but rather as sensations. Deep breathing and letting go lead to softening
         I will work with these emotions more I am sure, but right now there is a sense of peace, acceptance, and love for which I am deeply grateful.

Living on the edge.

         I continue to attend to the bodies health scrupulously and the rewards are that physically when I am not combating the side effects of various drugs I am in excellent shape. This morning I went for a 2 hour hike in the local park. It is a mountainous park so there was much climbing and I walked over two of the mid-sized peaks without getting particularly strained. After hiking up these peaks I met a man in his mid forties who was affected by his heart and a blood clot that had been formed. He wanted to hike with me and I told him that where I was going would not be easy. He had to rest and I pushed on.
         I am now getting up in the morning at between 4 and 5:30 when the drugs do not stop me, and am doing a type of meditation that is an amalgamation of what my yoga teacher is teaching me about movement and what I am recalling from walking in the Upaya Zen Center and the graceful and completely focused walking that we do between sitting sessions. In the Zen center we stand bow to our cushions bow to the center then turn into group to form a line and begin to walk. The steps are taken with amazing slowness and the concentration is put intensely into the practice of watching the body move while the feet are moving. Because the concentration is so intense the motion is almost imperceptible it can take as long as 30 minutes to walk 30 feet.
         My yoga teacher was unfamiliar with this walking meditation but what she teaches and calls unconscious yoga lends itself to the same process with hand in glove ease. By concentrating minutely upon the muscles of the body as the yoga posture unfolds, the sensations of the body are intensely observed and relaxed into. The result is that this morning I awoke at 5:30 and started with the usual mind chatter of dismay and hurting. By doing an exercise of rolling slowly through the muscles of the back and stretching each of the ones that I could observe with great deliberation and gentleness. My body felt good and so did my emotions. The equivalent of laying in the sun on a winter day. I did this one exercise slowly and deliberately for over an hour and watched as the nature of the mind changed. Very gentle and loving.
        After breakfast went on a very long hike in Squaw Peak and found myself walking and learning to love my body as it complained of the various aches and pains that emerged. Send loving to ones hip seems a bit odd intellectually but the hip loved it. I had the image of how a mother would care for her newborn when it would cry . The gentleness, kindness, and love are what the child responds to with joy. Each of our bodies would respond just as positively as that child would so why not treat the body in the same way. Abusing my body seems a very counter-productive way to promote it's health.
      

Stepping Even Further Into the Unknown

    ,
           Below is a letter that I wrote on a blog belonging to Daniel Ingram, a Buddhist who talks about levels of awareness and siddhis or psychic powers. I have been hesitant to discuss this stuff but since I now have a good reason to, I am doing so.
           The ability to do this stuff is not of any great interest to me. The use of magic, which some of this stuff certainly qualifies as, is important to me only in the healing of the body. (OBE stand for Out of Body Experience.)

      Thirty year ago I had most of the abilities that Daniel talks about: OBE, past lives awareness, toma, the ability to generate heat, I even once sat on a beach at night and everything around me turned pink in reflected light.  I also could disappear. When it first happened I was meditating in front of a mirror and when I opened my eyes I could only see the wall behind. me. I was fascinated and tried it several times. Going into and out of view. However since I had been into the psychedelic scene several years before I had come to not entirely believe everything that was happening to me--especially if it was so out of the ordinary. 
      The other factors for my disbelief was that it was night and all that was lighting the room was the outside streetlamp. At that point I decided to conduct the process as an experiment. Several weeks later after practicing I visited a good friend and asked her to meditate with me looking right at each other. She was willing to go along with the experiment as she trusted it would be interesting. What I observed after I disappeared was that her mouth dropped open in astonishment and then I came back to normal vision. We talked about what had happened and she was astonished that I knew exactly what I was doing. Still I was not completely satisfied since the experiment had been done in a room at dusk and that lead me to doubt. 
     I finally decided to do the experiment in a place where I would have no doubts. It was on the Skyline Parkway in Virginia near Swannanoa. The summer day was nearly cloudless, I was in an open field with two friends, and it was a little after noon. Without warning I disappeared in front of them and their jaws dropped and eyes were rubbed.  I confirmed what I had done. I still am in contact with the first lady I did it with and we talk about the experience from time to time. Soon afterward I got word from my guru to stop messing with siddhis as they were his, not mine. I ceased my experiments and can no longer do any of the above consciously.
     I would not be interested in pursuing this, except that the body that I have for this lifetime is diagnosed with Prostate Cancer and because of the rather advanced stage needs extraordinary healing. So far it has happened. PSA, which is a measuring system used in Prostate cancer, has had results that have been several standard deviations from the norm in rate of decline. I am pleased and I realize that this is great but given what the situation is, magic is needed.
    Since I have already experienced and practiced magic I invite comments on how to proceed or/and if to proceed in merging these former abilities in helping with the current situation.


That is the post I left on the blog. Please comment if you wish.


      The events of the last few days have been sitting with a zen group Sunday and offer to sit with them at the end of the month which I may do.
       Monday evening consisted of dancing with local jewish mystic Michael Schapiro, and then listening to his stories. The dancing is great fun, the ladies I dance with quite good, and the stories are fascinating. He told of the experience he had when as a young married man: He went to a large park in LA at night with his wife. Seeing a large man who then yelled at him that they needed to talk, he invited him over to sit with him and do so. The man that approached was scared and armed.  When he approached, Michael felt a force that took over his life and he invited the man to sit on the grass which Michael was sitting on .  The man  did so  and then he proceeded to talk for 45 minutes telling Michael his life story. The story is  that of being  on the run as a penitentiary escapee,  that of being a former navy underwater welder,  being  from Mississippi and other aspects of his life. At the end of the tale of his life story he pointed out to them that what he was doing by sitting with them was protecting them from other marauders. Of whom Michael became aware when it was pointed out. 
       The whole evening has a divine flavor to it and is quite drawing me further into his realm. It is listening to more of the divine magic which I am becoming aware of and have been stepping into as part of the healing of soul and body.
        Today I was given a transfusion of Zometa, an osteoporosis drug. Very useful in combating the effects of the hormone drugs on the skeletal structure. The side effects are flu like symptoms that can last for several days. I will know by the morning if the effects are going to hit me like they did last month.
                      

All dressed up with no place to go

    Spent THursday learning and adapting. T the lady who is teaching me hatha yoga shared with me the concept of what she terms  unconscious yoga. Last week she had introduced to me the talking with  the body. Listening or rather feeling the nuances of what bodies are communicating while one does stretching. This internal dialog is continually happening . THe body is a receptor of communications both within itself and with  the outside world. To have the dialogue within is quite amazing . It starts with ouch and can extend to ah. As one begins to practice the ouches are avoided, they hurt and the ah s become more pronounced. In some of the better sessions of this  stretching it is a sensual pleasure of eroticism. One makes love to every muscle in the body and has the reward of deep sensual pleasure throughout the whole organism. Given that I am taking hormone suppressant drugs and live alone , this is a wonderful form of release .T also taught me to do this in the morning upon awakening . What a marvelous way to start a day. The deep sensuality that allows ones mind to stop the thinking process and merge merely with the flow of awareness.  Quite a yoga teaching. I have been doing this every morning since.
    The next part of the day was spent at the City Council listening to my neighbor L argue with another neighbor over the height of his fence. This my be the next part of my sadhana since I tend to want to avoid looking at the effect upon me. I do not want to get involved in a legal dispute, I fear retribution, and I am not sure what there is to win. All issues that I will have to examine as I approach this . How stressful is it and is the reward worth the effort.
     The last part of the day was divided into two activities . The first was climbing a mountain in the Squaw Peak park range which I did quite easily. Even while giving advise over the phone to V about how to interact with a friend of hers whose body has cancer . THe second part involved going to an acupuncturist physician to have a treatment in dealing with a small muscle cramp in my chest which had happened after the last treatment of Zometa ,the osteoporosis drug. L my ex-wife attended the meeting and the conversation that the two doctors had was quite fascinating. It was instructional as I realize that I have to depend on the knowledge of so many intelligent people to make the proper decisions about many different  forms of health.
      Friday consisted of going to meet this challenge with the expectation that I had done my best to deal with the circumstances . Mentally and emotionally prepared to deal with worst of circumstances only to be told that it was not going to be done.
     All dressed up and no where to go. I was stunned . I had spent a lot of time money and effort preparing for this only to be told that it was not going to be done. I had been previously assured that the reactions that I had were normal and that it was not something to be concerned about to refusal to participate in the giving of the drugs.
      THere was a casual rescheduling 12 days later. It took me five hours, a long conversation with my sister-cousin to get me back on track and get me fired up about having this presented to the Oncologist so that a better and quicker result would follow. Monday I will know if other steps have to be taken.
       Today Saturday I am enjoying being home. Starting to do my spring cleaning. Do I have lots of stuff..
 

Processing

    Last Saturday evening I had a discussion with the prima amiga who is back from her stay in India. During the trip she went several  emails telling of what was happening in the world that she was abiding in. THey were the type of missives that one would send on a vacation from anywhere in the world and I enjoyed the postcard type nature of them since they were hurriedly written and quickly sent. THey contained very little as to the inner drama and growth of which she had gone to India to experience.
    The extent that they were unrevealing was fascinating.
    One of the primary criticisms that she has of our discussions is a striving for authenticity. Which I have taken as telling the other person the essence of what the emotional content of what is happening at the moment of the communication . What I did not see in the emails was that very authenticity. Since I did not see it I did not respond but rather kept everything as cryptic I felt  as was sent to me. Referring her to this  blog as the place  to receive an authentic searching of self.
      In subsequent conversations it was revealed that it had not been done, but only after intimations of anger and queries as to a reason for no more depth.
      Saturday we returned to type. THe conversation began with a question about the day and after an explanation of the delight I had in understanding what a local jewish mystic was talking about followed by the accusation that I had failed to change and that it was not a essence conversation.
     Instead of the usual agreement that perhaps I was not looking deeply enough I felt defensive and  put upon. After the conversation was over and I had a chance to reflect upon what was said I began to realize  the nature of may addiction to being with her.
       Sunday I attended the opera La Boheme , the beautiful story of a group of Bohemians in Paris who loved, laughed ,lived, and died in the most achingly of romantic ways. I recognized the process instantly and intimately , I was amazed and appalled. THere in front of me was the the drama that I was doing with myself and given that the character Mimi died in the opera I could see that the outcome was not one that looked fortuitous .
      More meditation in seeing the depth of the experience of the romantic attachment and love and how when I had very important things to deal with concerning healthcare I could only focus on this aspect of my life.
     The next realization was that if there was a feeling of addiction and despair built around what was happening that that was what needed to be dealt with. That anger, sadness, and alienation was the issue that was keeping me from being healthy in the moment and it is more important to deal with this tangled web than to ignore it and pretend something else is the issue.
       To the end of doing so I have devoted time with a psychologist discussing how to set boundaries. Something that was done for me by prima amiga but something I have not done for her.
       Let me hasten to add that I have proceeded to live a full life outwardly. Monday evening was spent at  the talk of the Jewish mystic, a kindly, soft spoken ,self-effacing man of great leaning. He sings in the beginning of the lesson and I go to the back of the hall and dance with 3 - 5 lovely ladies laughing and enjoying the gift of life. THen he speaks telling stories from the Torah and quoting other holy men in illustrating the truths of which he speaks. He often illustrates with stories from his own past demonstrating the errors, learning , and grace of which he has had given to him.
         One thing struck me in what he said. The strength of speaking softly and with humility. Not having thought about it much, it became apparent that it was more telling to me that that type of teaching was and is much more profound and wise that stridency and volume.

         It was a suggested that one  read of the lives of saints. To that end  I have been reading about various Indian saints as I am somewhat more familiar with them than the westerners. Anandamayi-MA was last nights reading on the internet  and while I am having transfusions I am reading Gandhi's Autobiography Experiments in Truth. They are fascinating people and in Ma's case otherworldly and in both cases revolutionary.
         It is inspirational to read of others who are far advanced on the path that I am so haltingly trod-ding.
          What  my adventure of healing has brought me to begin to realize how much grace  within is necessary to accomplish  true health and how revolutionary that has to be . I pray fervently that others may share good health and healing. To heal oneself and not see the difference between self and others is the revolu
          Last night three experienced meditators stopped and we had the opportunity to sit together. It lasted  only 45 minutes ,as one of the participants had to leave after that period of time.  While I cannot speak for the others I did slip into Samadhi and was delighted with the ease that it happened. I hope to do this next week on Tuesday as well.
         Today affords another opportunity . I had an energy rolfing sessions with a Zen practitioner. The effects of which are spaciousness in consciousness , clarity of decision making , and calmness and order in the need to follow both actions and thought. Proper action becomes apparent without having to think. I am noticing that the work is starting to carry over into the other parts of my life and am delighted.
         Tomorrow more doctors visits, this one dealing with my acupuncture physician. It is all preparation  for taking the drug Zometa which gave me serious chest pains and left me asleep for forty hours the last time I took it.