Hare Raising Truths

Yeah... sometimes a mom just knows not to raise her expectations TOO high! Here was one of my mother's NUMEROUS clues during my development. (See Photo above that you ~Might~ not have noticed because you were so ready to read my spellbinding post. Or... mayhaps, you were high on *Crack* when you opened this link. But now you can take a moment to really drink it in... we will wait.

And yes, that is indeed a {CAPE} that I am wearing... with my rabbit ears. And cottony construction paper head band thingy. How ~else~ would you be able to determine a super bunny kid from a plain old ordinary bunny kid? (Duh! ) My assignment was to protect the streets of Cedar Creek in Athens Georgia. So I would Swoop down from my bed room in some matching Garanimal brown suit - (can we talk about GENIOUS clothing idea - Grrrrranimals, match the animals and your outfits will be coordinated! Easy to pair, fun to wear!! The genesis of my gay style and sensibility is surely rooted in Garanimals) - Super bunny would appear in his atire and hop, hop, hop across the street! And then super bunny would go to... ummmmm, to... ummmmmm. Well to do super bunny things!

Apparently this super bunny should have been named HILTON. Cause that is the name across the back of his cape. Ahem... perhaps the mother of S.B. will explain to the league of justice (or at least the commission of concierge petty theft) where exactly she ACQUIRED super bunny's Cape of Awesomeness???

Sadly... I must now confess ~this~... I don't even think my cape was of ~towel~ quality... I think it was a... *bath * *mat* _-~sniffle~-_

No wonder my super bunny powers morphed into mind dulling plain-ness and common ordinary not-hero-ness over the next 32 years. Call my therapist - I am having a ~break through~!!!

Anyway, I think all this retro bunny business spawned from John re-enacting the Kool-Aid man busting through a brick wall several times this morning. I made a pitcher of grape kool-Aid and suddenly John was standing in the living room with a cup full (of GRAPE, as in Dark Purple Kool AID - and did I mention our light colored carpet...) going all Captain Lou Albano on me. I finally asked him: "WTF?"

Then he added the "HEY KOOL AID" part - and I remembered the ads, all flashing back from my youth! Perhaps there is a Kool Aid latent micro cell that stores my Super Bunny powers and John accidentally released the memory that will activate the gamma ray nitro stuff in my DNA that will alter me physiologically and make me embrace my SUPER BUNNY destiny....


Nah... more likely I just need more carrots in my diet.

As I grew older I tended to dress as different animals... something like a bear in a dog collar:

But since this a monk and nun friendly blog - we won't go down that particular rabbit hole.

Instead we will recognize the equality of all that lives... from the bunnies to the people who dress like them to the folks that frequent places like the statement above might "suggest". All of them wish for nothing but happiness. Whether we are happy playing super friends with the neighborhood gaggle of goofy kids. Or whether we are smitten in more compromised role playing adventures. No matter the oddity of the appearance of the behavior - the end result that is ~sought~ is happiness. Period. However that one sees happiness manifesting. Sadly, those activities that we then engage in - do not have the potential to make us ULTIMATELY happy. They might be fun for a while. But then mom calls us in for dinner. Or the day ends, or the next day begins. And that fun moment is cast aside with a *BAM* *POW* ~SPLAT~ like Cat Woman's thugs getting the "what for" from Batman and the Boy Wonder.

SO. While you are contemplating all the various ways that life can express itself - you can also groove on what the karma would be for a super hero to actually MANIFEST in our midst.

They may not wear tights and capes or fly around in invisible jets (although - I wonder if that would help with the whole Greenhouse/Global warming thing... I never ONCE saw Jet trails behind Wonder Woman when she flew around saving the world...)

Let's all tap into our dormant super powers. They are (according to the enlightened ones) meditation, contemplation, generosity, devotion... all those qualities that we can give rise to even if our circumstances don't seem to indicate that is where we are headed. Super Heroes usually result from their own planet having exploded, so they have to readjust to life in an unfamiliar world. You ever feel that way?

Or there is the formulaic mutation from an experiment gone wrong - and this horrible tragedy gives rise to some heroic result - even if it is confusing to the participant through it all. David Banner never could figure out if theHulk side of his life was a blessing or a curse!? And whatever caused the Wonder Twins and Gleek to become super heroes - well that is worth examining for SURE! (Although they totally TRUMPED Wendy, Marvin and Wonder Mutt... I mean come ON??? Did those 3 even have skills?) Ooops... reel it back in Bowdawg.

Back on topic. Be the super hero that is secreting away inside you. Start today. Toss aside your kryptonite amulet and fly to somebody's rescue. I bet they just need a smile. And if you are too busy conquering some other worthy adversary... use your telepathic Aqua Man ding-ding-ding thingy powers to summon a big whale to smile at everybody in the Baltimore Aquarium. I know we can all join the hall of justice some day. I know because I am Super Bunny - and we KNOW what bunnies do. They replicate. Ad nauseum. So I replicate Super Bunnies... by the blog full.

> : ) > : ) > : ) Bunnies Bring The Love!!! ( : < ( : < ( : <

Monkey Bunny Keeps her Eye!!

Well... in a RATHER refreshing prognosis from the ophthalmologist (it passed spell check this time) Joy Beagle will be retaining that precious little blind orb in her skull!!

We had an amazing visit with Dr. Eric Smith over in Gaithersburg (driving through a pretty good little snow storm -- well that is having Ani Dorje drive us in her Snow - shredding Jeek with new shoes!! Ahh - Jeek, that is another disclaimer - it is what Ethan use to call uncle Zippy's Jeep... is anyone confused yet!?) Joy was TREMBLING in my arms on the drive. I don't know - maybe she was picking up on my fear that I wasn't as cool about her having to have surgery as I was trying to pretend. I don't want her under the knife - the dang dog has been through so MUCH already...

But half way to Gaithersburg, she ~sighed~ and then... she collapsed into my chest from her stiff, alert, riga-mortis, gotta be stoic stance and melted down into the crease of my arm in a molten, exasperated exxxxxxhale and she just went all ZEN. She proceeded to prop her chin on the car door and watched the snow for the rest of the drive. And oddly that is when I relaxed too.

So we arrive - and she is behaving like a REAL dog in the waiting area -minus one growl-y exchange with a Chow - but hey, we all know that Chows potentially can cop attitude, Right? (Have I just projected coping a 'tude onto an innocent and potentially blind dog with a purplish black tongue??? Wow, have I reached a new low?) Anyway - a family of three came in and somehow the Katrina survival story came up. (Oh, in retro spect -- maybe that is because as soon as people approach her - I'm always immediately spouting disclaimers about how traumatized she is so please do not be offended if she makes an I WANT YOUR FACE FOR DINNER sounding growl. It is QUITE an intense growl that comes out of this little golden doggie. But she is ALL love, pinky swear!)

And then, she sat, almost - what's that word.... OBEDIENTLY, and let herself be ~admired~ from a small distance - and she even let the nice man step closer and close that distance. And she wagged a tippy-tail little sweep of an almost invitational come closer WAG. But the man was nice and dog-owner smart enough to let this be enough progress for her as she waited for who knows what kind of probing from behind door # 3.

It was almost as if she knew I was telling her story, so she knitted together a particularly pitiful expression to add to the charm of her cajun biography. She sat there looking that inexplicable cute/worried/and not as cock-eyed (the very reason for visiting to this doctor.) And they LOVED on her from across the lobby with lovey GLOW smiles and cooing dog appreciation sounds and well wishes and keep up the good work stuff. I smiled for Kunzang and Kamil and Karen and Palmo and those actually still doing the rescue and rehabilitation!!

And she LET them appreciate her. And I was not MAKING her let them. This dog is somehow mellowing ~slightly~ in her little neurotic head.

Anyway - we were shortly ushered into a room with a COOL stainless steel lift table. She was all kinds of curious riding that machine up to the doctor's gadgets and shiny light making devices. She sat like a PRO. She barely flinched as he looked and stared and patted her head and shined and looked in some more. When he would step away to change gadgets and she would turn and bury her face in the crook of my arm. It was so cute like "if I don't look at him he won't know I am here!"

The doctor was pleased after examining. He was spouting all sorts of impressive latin rooted spelling bee type words to the vet tech who programmed her eye thesis info into a computer over in the corner - and he kept saying how good her left eye was looking and that her right eye was Blind for sure - but was responding reflexively to palpable blahddy blah something or another and he kept making happy upwards lifts in his tone - like he was surprised how well she was responding to the drops we give her.

So he chatted to me a bit about what the future may require IF the eye returns to it's blowfish massiveness - but folks Joy Beagle went from an eye pressure of nearly (or perhaps just over) 50 last week -- WHICH IS ~WAY~ above 40 -- which is where problems happen.... she went form that big half hundre number to ~~wait for it~~ THIR-TEEN. That's right. 13. Normal. Healthy pressure. Better than her good eye which was 18. And is also good. But the ~BAD~ eye was GOODER. : )

So thank you ALL for the prayers. I poop you not, at least 3 people CALLED to ask about the little monkey girl tonight. I can barely remember things like my nieces birthdays (which tomorrow is my younger nieces b-day BTW) and others made time to call or had well wishing texts and comments waiting on our Blackberry (shameless plug) or favorite social sites. Monkey Bunny Love was in the air! And all Eye(s) were on her. : )

Thank you all. We will remain on the drops regimen indefinitely. Dr. Smith is encouraged by what he found her responses to be to the drops, this is a manageable glaucoma - so we aren't gonna even talk eye removal at this point. She will never (probably - unless we want to REALLY champ out a miracle story here) see out of the eye again - but he is encouraged she can keep it healthy in it's cute little fuzzy golden socket hole and dart it around pretend peeping it towards people even if it ain't taking no pictures!

So my happy dance was elaborate and profuse. I marched her and her sporty pink hoody right out into the snow and we had us a $250 celebratory PEE. (I more or less coughed up the $250 part and she more or less made the snow steam yellow... but it was a PARTY kids. I am here to tell ya!)

Will keep you all apprised of any new developments. SEE you around...

Hug 'em if you got 'em! (Dogs, that is, not eyeballs)

xoxo

bowdawg and monkey bunny

More Random Posts

This was during my painting phase. I called it 3rd Grade Retro art!

Barack Obama is now following you on Twitter!

My president loves me!

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Twitter
Date: Mon, 26 Jan 2009 20:26:59 +0000
Subject: Barack Obama is now following you on Twitter!

Hi, Chris Hodgson (bowdawg).

Barack Obama (BarackObama) is now following your updates on Twitter.

Check out Barack Obama's profile here:

http://twitter.com/BarackObama

Best,
Twitter

--
Turn off these emails at: http://twitter.com/account/notifications

--
Sent from my mobile device

Intermission

A/K/A Blogger's block - we will resume regular
programming shortly... enjoy the following excerpt from my guest author shown at left:

"ao;dsgvreifnhvoiergierjh'gpoq in[iq[
ptioq34ti-]35iutg-]3uq;lkgvqer0ig]q-03rgv"


: )

Just to see the Joy in her Eye

I long ago wrote a heartfelt tale (or tail) of the first encounters with my little monkey-bunny JOY BEAGLE. Many of you have surely fallen in love with her as the lead writer on her now defunct blogs... but I will recap (IN super attention deficit disorder brevity) the story for you...

1) I saw Joy among the 130 Katrina rescue dogs that T Boone Pickens flew to our rescue facility in Arizona.

2) I loved her a lot.

3) We live happily ever after right now!

But a dark looming SAD thing has poked its gnarly obviousness into our presence. It is called an "avisual" eye. Perhaps glaucoma ?( Though it was ruled out a mere 4 months ago when her EYE swelled all balloon-like the first time) Her eye swelling has come on stronger since winter set in. I tease her that it is the bad karma for staring out the back window with a "I want to kill those squirrels" look in her eye. She doesn't laugh at that joke... I think her hearing must be fading too?

The eye was still responsive to visual stimuli back in September when we rushed her to the emergency vet place on a Saturday (not an inexpensive little visit - I must say.) But now that little pup-eye is no longer seeing the light - the whole thing might have to go!

We will stroll her trembling- little waggy-butt-with that expression that says GOD-I-hate-vet-appointments into a Gaithersburg opthamologist (boy spell checker can't even figure that one out - so I admit my ignorance and laziness and just leave it all RED UNDERLINED and misspelled here) next Tuesday. They will discuss removal of her adorable little peeper and what our options are.

John and I were racked with grief at the first learning of this information. NOt so distraught we couldn't drop her off at home for Sarah to console while we drove out to Kentlands to eat at YUMMY YUMMY Noodles and Company. But we ate with knitted brow, parental concern faces.

We know she is happy and barely even registering that she has an eye that doesn't work - but you hate to think that we might have been more ON TOP OF the eye puffing mystery instead of all "We will do it when we have the money or if she shows any signs of discomfort." It looked okay while she was initially on her prescription eye drops.

Then I stopped using the drops because they clearly say on the label THEY CAN EVENTUALLY CAUSE glaucoma. It seemed odd to me to give her a prescribed drop for eye swelling that could eventually cause the very ailment we assumed she had. But I ain't no doctor!? So eventually I only administered on the days her eye seemed particularly swollen. She just sort of looked Pug Like in one eye - sometimes. Then the eye took on a hue - pink and WRONG looking all of a sudden - and John smartly suggested that we take her in to the vet. I was fearful of any new revelations - and yet hiding from the vet does nothing of use...

In retrospect, waiting for signs of discomfort - is not a ~GREAT~ plan for a tough a$$ little New Orleans scrapper who fought for her life. I mean after Katrina and Heartworm treatments, losing an external organ probably seems a small price to pay for her general perception of life-loving-ness and playing with toy-ness and eating yummy food-ness and sofa snoozing and scrap-sneaking-ness ~~ because we SWEAR we do not feed our dogs from our plates where they might learn how to ~BEG~ and seem all rule-less and socially inappropriate and remote from all hope of domestication. Not. US. We'd never allow that.

But alas, all our comfort in her happiness blinded ~us~ to the truth of her blindness and now it is Popeye jokes and comments about little doggy pirate costumes will cover our sadness for her loss. The vet assured us the second eye looks totally healthy so far, and was as comforting as she could be saying, since Joy barely shows any pain/irritation now, she may be suddenly ~ELATED~ when that puffy irritating swell of a glaucoma gumball in her socket is GONE, gone GONE! So we banish it to the boneyard in the sky (or at least relinquish it to be flushed down the vet's organ flushing machine - who knows how these things work!? Six Feet Under makes me think there is a plumbing situation somewhere in the world where little un-implanted doggy parts are backing up an otherwise normal families sewage system... but I digress.)

I will pray for a little miracle ~where her eye regenerating mutation kicks in magically between now and Tuesday next. She will appear at my bedside on the morning of the vet visit chanting "save the cheerleader save the world!!

Although I do not expect miracles, when so many in the world suffer HORRIBLY and my dog will barely miss this piece of her sweet little self, I'd still love to walk away Tuesday scratching our heads as to WHY we brought her to an OP-THO-MALL-E-JEST for an eye issue when SUDDENLY - she has fully restored vision and no swelling. (I will understand it all in the future when the doctor Suresh comes and explains that Joy is one of the special ones!)

So Bowdawg readers... send out a little doggy prayer for my monkey bunny... and even if she loses that right eye o'hers, SHE will see more love through that left ORB than she could have imagined when she was a huddled little mass of sadness in New Orleans after that awful mean Katrina lady huffed and puffed and blew her house down!!

Love ya'll like the prospect of an AMAZING vision.

Joy Beagle's proud but slightly sad Papa.

Dakini's Breath - Blowing Sweet Air In

As many of us witnessed this afternoon (literally like 1 minute after noon) not only was this a fresh face of American hope - but we all chatted right around the world via Facebook. We were united in optimism - we saw HOARDS of brave people on the mall grounds and standing shoulder to shoulder - out in droves and out in the cold.

I sensed cheering around the world, and so I pause to thank a part of this moment that I barely understand. The presence of the Dakini.

She is a mystery to us - in our sensory perception of the world. She is the ACTIVITY of the enlightened ones. She is each person we perceive as a female - she is even deeply ingrained in each of us - where male and female essence create that which you understand to be yourself.

SO why mention the Dakini on Barak's big day? Because I believe he is infused with the female wisdom element that we so desperately need on this planet and in this country.

I know of a living Dakini - she may not have called herself that some 25 years ago, but just as a title or a warm piece of apparel comes to fit our every shapely nuance... I believe that the Dakini understands her role in this life better than any of us could perceive.

So on this day of hope - brought forth by something as Universally ordinary as a political protocol... the vast majority felt something stirring inside. A feeling not brought on by the ceremony, but by something within the participants.

And so I honor the Dakini as I revere our new President. And I think she may have wisely seen this coming before Mr. Obama was even a blip on our RSS feed...

Hail YES to the Chief

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

How Grapevines Work

Apparently - starting a rumor is effortless in this high tech era. My father and I were conversing on our Blackberries (that's right, I own a new crackberry hand-held device that I am shamelessly mentioning in every conversation, online or in person. Notice in your mind ~RIGHT~ NOW~ how that very phrase is raising my hipness through your perception. Unless of course you are like my beloved better half who thinks I am a fool for passing up a device as Flawless and coveted as his new iPhone... more on this debate later...)

So just before my phone dropped the call - with it being Mercury retrograde and what have you - I ignored that this has happened 3 times in 24 hours, this seemingly coincidental dropping of calls when I am on my new~and~perfect (read: Refurbished so of a lower caliber of coolness than it seemed just a paragraph ago) new toy - there is not ONE iota of a thought that my new Phone might be a ~WHACKberry~. I am not suggesting this in the least. It is, perhaps like me, artistic and temperamental.

Anyhow... that is not even the rumor I came here to spread. So if you are dissing on my Blackberry ~ that is YOUR karma to contend with.

I came to gossip thus:

In the aforementioned chat with longstanding paternal figure o'mine... he said a phrase that pricked up my little (frozen) ears. [A.D.D. update - it is COLD in Maryland right now]. My father mentioned that my stepmother, may have PERHAPS been baking recently.

That followed shortly by this message from my stepmom via GMAIL (which indicates I might have mentioned my Blackberry in that exchange...)

Great hearing from you - glad you are all set up with a Blueberry/Strawberry/Blackberry - whatever. They are amazing, aren't they? Seriously, which did you purchase? I think you are a very good typist, by the way.

You and John will be receiving a little package from old Masser here. Hopefully, "they" will arrive in good shape and not a million little pieces. That is all I am telling you.

Okay. I MAY be jumping to conclusions here... but if you recall the famous CRACK COOKIES post my mind immediately jumped to a conclusion based on the juxtaposition of my father's passing comment about baking and the mention of a forthcoming postal surprise. So the rumor mill cranked to life and my reply included this:

Thanks for whatever the package is... I have a sneaking suspicion that dad let the Crack Cat out of the Crack Bag about the Crack cookies - but I will act VERY surprised as I pace in front of the Post Office for the next few days -- pestering everyone who looks like they may have a package that resembles one that you might send from New Jersey with something in it that is fragile and might be cookie like in it's contents, and aroma....

And so the WEEK of GREAT good things happening seems ~poised~ to get even Better-er-er!!!

If a recipe is enclosed in my mystery package - I will pass it on to all of you here. If it is not, I will simply gloat and treat you all as I shamelessly treat John (evidenced by another portion of my e-mail to Mary Ann):

I love you and Thank You for your sweetness! My big dilemma... do I tell John that a package (has) arrived in a few days - or do I stick to my ignorance despite crumbs in the corners of my guilty, smiling mouth. This I must ponder....

Blackberry, Citizen folding Bike (yes - this will receive its own post soon. Was too cold to ride long yesterday so I will wait until I can savor the experience before sharing it here) and Crack Cookies... all in one week. Obama may speak in Baltimore tomorrow prior to his inaugural hoop-la, but I think we all know what will stick out in our minds about January of 2009 in history 'round these here parts. Yep... Bowdawg's week of simple pleasures! ; )

Peace Ya'll.

Terminal Compassion

When Sangye commented on my prior entry - I realized that She only knew half of the story. SO it seemed worth elaborating on where the poem "arose" from.

The past two Fridays I have driven one of our nuns (and a newbie blogger) to Baltimore for medical appointments. Ani Sangye has Weggener's disease (I need to check spelling on that) a rare and extremely difficult illness to treat. You may read her blog to learn more about it.

She and I enjoy the rides despite her challenged energy and health. We laugh more that we should, we talk more than we should - but conserving her energy plays second fiddle to deepening my awareness of her experience - and for that I am grateful.

We exchange observations on the path of dharma - from wickedly disparate lenses that are amazingly similar in their focus.

Ani La teaches me what a physician can learn from a the experience of having this life threatening illness, the history of being in the medical (holistic) arts, and a Vajrayana nun to boot.
We cannot escape the display on the HUGE medical campus at Johns Hopkins that, although we might be in a place of MASSIVE educational and clinical protocol, advancements, and technicians - it is a LONG walk between contacts that utilize an ounce of their potential bodhicitta.

Not that people are purposely unpleasant - but we sense almost a fear of admitting that it is not only the medical patients here in Baltimore that are dying. We all are destined to fly the coop. But somehow when it is there - in your presence - the very thing that is the common denominator of all seeking or providing or facilitating the experience - NOT ONE person wants to pay lip service to that elephant in the room. Terminally ill deserves terminal compassion - because truth-be-told these people fighting for their life have LESSONS to share.

The PS you do not know... (I am writing directly to Sangye now - just easier to "narrate" that way)

I walked from your house to the Starbuck's on Clopper, eating my Red Velvet cake and processing the day (a day you undoubtedly have lived like Ground Hog's Day - and LIVED... not witnessed like my silly self.) Don't ask me why - it was like I needed to be thankful for my health and push myself to a "no spoons" limit to be able to relate to our conversations more than just theoretically. Half way to that shopping center - I got a better idea... I'll walk to my midnight prayer shift!

I stopped as soon as I finished my Starbuck's on Clopper/Germantown and tried to chicken out - texting Dara to see if a coffee with her might talk some sense into me - even thought about catching a bus, even called a cab company via 1-800-Taxi cab... just wanting to prove how silly a "mission" it seemed. I even looked around for a place I could BUY a bicycle... but resigned myself to the task I began. As my options narrowed - I tuned in to something of a prognosis.

The first part started as most things do. Ambivalent and surreal, kind of like "yeah, okay this is retarded." And then "I am gonna be SOOOO proud of myself once I get there." And a myriad of other random discursive thoughts. How fortunate the moons is full. The dogs around here REALLY bark a lot for a busy road. Should I walk towards traffic or with traffic. Why am I doing this in a BLACK JACKET and Dark Jeans? Is this legal - just walking through a city at night... etc, etc...

I had a bizarre thought about "borrowing" a bike and then returning it the next day. I laughed out loud at both the absurdity and the violation that the thought presented to my being a practitioner - and I kid you not, as though manifesting a metaphor, I walked up on an abandoned child's bike in the middle of my path. Upon closer observation - it had no seat and flat tires - but it showed me that if I was to embrace a challenge - I should not waste my powers of mind. : )

At Harris Teeter, now two hours into this pilgrimage - I grew slightly discouraged - I had the midnight prayer shift and it was 9:45. But I sat wondering if River Road was going to be wise at this hour - with no sidewalks... no street lights and on a Friday night, so potentially FAST cars whipping by on their social quests. I steeled myself and pushed on. But by the time Seneca road became River Road - I was considering knocking on the door at Potomac Pathways and proclaiming I was an idiot and could SOMEBODY just take me to the Buddhist temple only four miles or so up the road. I strolled by and began to feel I had nothing left in me - and NO OPTIONS. John could not reach me in time from Tyson's Corner - even if he could leave a little early. I'd be late for my shift. And I had no idea who was on the 10-12 so I could not fore warn them I would be late. I thought it insane to call and wake Aileen or Dawa - who I felt MIGHT jump in a car and come get me, being so close and all... but would they think I was out of my MIND? I rang Sam from Harris Teeter - but was too ashamed to ask for a ride via a voice mail. I decided that John was telepathically going to realize that my text earlier letting him know where I was and how strange a journey I was taking would SURELY mean he needed to leave and make sure he met up with me on River Road to drive me the last little bit. ~Dream~On~.

And I tell you Ani Sangye - it was such a teaching by now. That I had brought this seemingly innocuous challenge on myself and now I was struggling with simple ability. COULD I make it to the destination and on time? Was I ruining my legs which were now SCREAMING in discomfort from the walk... I was determined to get to the temple now. Sheer will power and mantra took over and I felt a surge of YES. I stopped a few more times to breathe for a minute and relax, I even removed my shoes and walked on the VERY cold pavement in thin socks just to remove the weight of these damned shoes! I kept pulling out my phone - and watching the time - and thinking of who to call that would understand this. And I KNEW you were the only one - and that you'd KILL me if I called that late - or Think I was such a schmuck for this little display of insanity! ; )

But it taught me viscerally what it means to push one more step out of a body that has no steps left it for the day. I thought when I reached that old School House - I am going to end up collapsing right on the driveway to KPC - but I am NOT turning this into a failed mission!

I pushed with my heart and pushed with my mind - and when I FINALLY could see the lights of KPC and the prayer flags - I just started taking refuge and became silly and ecstatic. John called to say he was leaving work at that moment and I think he was VERY confused as to why I hadn't called somebody. But I knew it would be too hard to explain. I arrived, at last and walked straight into the dharma room and dropped three prostrations towards the throne and Guru Rinpoche. I relieved Ayla and greeted Sam and sat down with a bit of "oh crap... now I need to be able to do a prayer shift!" But I did. And I was HAPPY about it, no matter how hard the evening had proven to be.

I woke up half paralyzed with lower back pain, pelvic throbs and thigh/calf soreness, popped another Tylenol 3 - and I was HAPPY to know that I pushed through a seemingly impossible physical task (walking four hours from Germantown to Poolesville, at night, on NOT SO pedestrian friendly streets - and in shoes that may have been designed by terrorists.)

In a weird way it is like I know now something that I could not know before. I felt myself praying for one more spoon still 10 minutes from temple. And I swear - I hope you always have a spoon left in you at the end of the longest day!**

Thank you for opening my eyes - and as a Sangha member - keeping the teachings very real for me!

With Love and Gratitude - and prayers for your strengthening health despite all appearances to the contrary!

A poet in a public place...

...is a peeping Tom with teeth.

WE are observing, and biting the visual bits to chew and spit out as lyric.

A dance off the tongue of observation.

Intestinal fortitude for life.

The unabashed truth that nourishes dreamers.

Yesterday I overate. Observed more than I could digest.

And today I woke up raw, nauseated with experience...

As I lost the remnants of yesterday to

Legions of unseen plumbing beneath me...

I started to crave my next morsel

The WAIT of the World.

We know I am prone to spelling errors, but that was the proper spelling of "wait" as I did not mean "weight" of the world.

The post title is inspired by a convergence of several events this past week. And the number of times I believed that if I had the ability to blog (in those moments) something profound was waiting to come out. Instead I felt myself put it off or unable to give that post at that time.

Many "important" ordinary events were occurring... a New Year, a Holiday, a deepening of my personal depression, my partner's birthday -- and last night the in-laws of a blood relative met with certain tragedy. Heartbreak. Senseless acts of insanity.

But - overall... my sense is WAITING. And that is not a comfy posture for yours truly. I am Mr. "in the throws of something big". I need CONSTANT stimulation from the world - and yet there is some part of me settling in now. Alert, paused , and sniffing the wind as I have heard it so eloquently described. On full tilt readiness - but not sure what for. Have I watched too many episodes of "Heroes" in the past 48 hours? No doubt.

Loose strings hang in front of me that I know descend from a huge beautiful tapestry - and I spend too much caloric exertion trying to figure out if something is being woven or if something is falling to shreds.

I try not to get concerned too often with ordinary boring neurosis - but it finds me and fills my dance card. And when we have danced all night - the next jig is a labor-intensive visit to the reset button of my mind. The circuit breaker that has tripped, or the defragment of the mother board. (~YES~ I am aware that I don't know if the mother board is what actually gets defragged on a computer - but let me use the metaphor anyway!)

SO. In addition to the daily dose of crazy - I watched a snippet of the special that History Channel produced on the topic of the year 2012.

Now for any of you ~~normal~~ enough to have escaped the "hub-bub" and fervor in anticipation of 2012... the basic story is as follows. Our ancient and wise friends on this planet, the Mayans, produced one HECK of a super calendar. Without Google or the Weather Channel - they managed to spell out astrological events - with dang-good accuracy - from 332 B.C. until their calendar ends - Quite abruptly - on December 12, 2012.

So enter a few fringe voices saying "the sky is falling ~the sky is falling!!" And voila. We have Y2K with an Armageddon flair to it.

But I must point out 2 things here. #1 - Y2k was not on the Mayan calendar, so although I worked closely enough with corporate tech and compliance at Legg Mason Wood Walker to understand the RATHER LARGE consequences of any inability to assure a customer on January 1st 2000 the balance of their retirement account matched the closing balance on DEC 31st 1999 - it was no doomsday scenario in my mind.

It was a world "potentially" thrown into chaos by the disappearance of digital blips and whirs. A screen image that is the only thing that distinguishes my lack of blips to somebody's abundance of them. A material world based on an electronic archival repository that proves "you have THUS amount according to our All-2-K compliant files.

But.. there are those who noticed people were probably taking advantage of some oddities in this electronic open enrollment -- specially appointed egg heads who may have gained access to some otherwise inaccessible files in EVERY MAJOR INDUSTRY at that time. When Super Corp and Mighty Inc were both in a time sensitive battle with no extension - you bet your sweet assets they outsourced to the best bargain basement compliance preparatory team and there was no time for the level of due diligence that is required when you grant access to your entire client list (and their supposed money which is electronic files based on complex formulas and passed through difficult to navigate logarythyms which change daily based on some APR some hot shot made up somewhere) - Heck - shave a penny off each account you had access to - and you got some SERIOUS mad money for your war on the War on Terror! : )

This 2012 thing is different though. It is a mystery and it is faith based and it is hope and it is inexplicable. It is less about the erosion of your IRA or 401k that might seem really strange in 8 years when a balloon market based on myth money "pops". Simply put there is no promise of tomorrow, ~TODAY~, even though we can point to its representative little square on the NEW 2009 calendars. Therefore - why the heck worry about 2012? Well - to me the fact it was noteworthy circa 332 BC tells me - we MIGHT oughtta pay some attention to it. Ya think? Maybe it ain't a BAD day. Maybe it is a potential "Get Out of Jail Free" card...

So if you were diagnosed with the prospect of a miracle or total annihilation... where would you put your energy? Me... I'd toggle back over to Netflix and finish season 1 of Heroes. (But I'd be saying Om Ah Hung Benzar Guru Pedma Siddhi Hung and dedicating the effort to you all as I do it!)

My heart is filled with optimism for this New Year. And according to the quote below.... Das Good!

Change your mind; change your life in 2009

How do you see the world? Is your glass half-full or half-empty? Do you love your job—even though there are a few things that bug you? Or do you complain to your co-workers non-stop? Seeing the bright side of tough situations helps you take risks and weather the storms. The sooner you accept the fact that you will have both successes and failures, the easier it will be to get your business and personal life on the right track. Optimists understand life can be a bumpy road, but they believe there is a light at the end of the tunnel. They learn from mistakes and failures, and they are not afraid to fail again.
[ Adapted from an article by Harvey Mackay, Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life, www.TXNP.org]

Peace Ya'll....