Who Knew Ole Willie Was a Zen Master?

Lots of fear in the air right now, lots of anxious people out there. Though I picked up the dratted C-19 at either the doctor's office or pharmacy during brief visits on the 10th of the month, I have survived. A little worse for wear to be sure, as I'm still having breathing difficulties which make it hard to lie down and sleep. I'm sure it will pass, as does everything eventually. 

Unable to do much of anything but sit and concentrate on my breathing, which after a while makes breathing more difficult, I turned to YouTube for some musical entertainment. 

Whatever you listen to, YouTube is eager to expand your musical horizons, which is why you find Willie Nelson popping up in the middle of your Bach Cantatas. 

Now I have nothing against Willie. I emphatically do not like C&W music, but having roots in Texas which stretch back to the 1700s I rather like Ole Willie. He could be one of my folks, minus the braids and the weed, which my puritanical ancestry precludes. You do know the definition of Puritanism?  Puritanism is that haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be enjoying themselves. But I digress. 

I was saying that I realized listening to Willie and his boy Lukas sing this song that Willie is a Zen Master. See if you don't agree. It's good to have a Master to turn to right now. Is there a Master in your life?

How Are You Coping With Social Distancing?

How’s this “Social Distancing” working out for you? I’m hearing different reactions from friends and family; for those who find social interaction difficult and fraught with anxiety the order to stay inside and away from others comes as a relief, for the extroverts who thrive on frequent contact with others it’s agonizing and anxiety-producing. 

The barrage of conflicting information on the COVID-19-all-the-time news channels doesn’t help. If you’re symptom-free can you go out if you stay away from everyone, or must you stay in? This changes by the hour. My own sense is that it is safer to stay in and protect yourself. 

Smokey's reaction to no cat fud!

We'd had very cold temperatures (-24 C, -11 F daytime highs) and heavy snow in the days leading up to the appearance of the first cases here. I had a doctor’s appointment and went to the pharmacy afterward. I am always careful to use hand sanitizer after visiting these places. But two days later I woke up with a very sore throat and a fever. I’d not yet done my grocery shopping for the week, which requires driving 26 miles and traipsing around a very large store. The pantry was empty, and we were down to a few cans of cat food and a few cups of dry food. 

That was 11 days ago and I’ve been ‘sick-like-dog’ in the meantime. Not C-19 thankfully, or so I’m assuming. I don’t have symptoms close enough to even call the hotline. Yes, I’ve coughed a bit, had some fever, it hurts to breathe. I didn’t sleep at all a couple of nights, just sat in my rocker with the heating pad, wrapped in a blanket and listened to a lot of music on YouTube. Drinking hot broth and taking handfuls of supplements, including those which help the immune system. 

I may have a mild case but if so I am protecting the rest of the population by staying in and away from everyone else. Leave the tests for people who have definite symptoms and really need medical care. Tony shows no signs of catching it so far, a good thing. We are both in the highest risk category, I’m over 70, he’ll be 80 on his next birthday and we both have serious medical conditions.  

I ordered my groceries online and bless him, Older Son drove a round trip of 150 km to deliver them to us. He brought them in and sat them on the kitchen floor wearing a mask and gloves, shoveled the walks and went on his sweet way. He’s a good boy.  

Thankfully as we’re happy with our own company as can be. We’re like a couple of old scholars sharing the same hut, each to his own side. When passing, we give each other a respectful bow, murmur Namaste and scurry past. (Where’s that laughing-until-you-cry emoji when you need it? We may be old but we’re not dead - yet.) However, I am too sick for that kind of fun right now dang it all. 

So, how are you coping with the social-distancing? You using the time to spring-clean, playing games with the kids, working on your juggling skills, going stir-crazy? Let me know. Being sick is so booorrring. 

Attachment and Letting Go

I did something I rarely did that day. I had a raging migraine which I simply could not work through, sit through, push through. I gave up about 2:00 o’clock and went to bed.

I don't think my head hit the pillow before I was asleep, neurons shimmering across my brain in a neurological aurora borealis. When I am awake and in the grip of a migraine every sense is heightened; I am all raw reaction, my vision near-obliterated by neon lightning strikes and zig-zag patterns. Sounds are magnified and sharpened to the point of pain, the fragrances of my own hair and the fabric softener lingering on my clothing nauseating.

But when I am asleep the brain interprets sensory input in inexplicable ways. So now, curled with his back into the curve of my recumbent body is the comforting and familiar form of a compact, muscular dog. Slick-coated, breath slowly rising and falling, his head rests on my crooked arm under my chin. He smells of Fritos. His whiskers twitch. We doze together, quietly.

Then I wake enough to realize that "he" is the weight of a bunched blanket, a pillow migrated to lie against my arm, the warmth of my own breath reflected back. "He" is not there. I do not want to let go of the illusion. I hang onto the "him" that has not been there for nearly 40 years. Tears well up into the emptiness he once filled.

Attachment, Zen calls it. Whatever you love will ultimately bring you to love’s final test; the test of learning to let go. So I hold on to my attachment, brought unexpectedly to the surface by the thunderless storm raging in my brain. I enjoy the memory of that joyful little body, touch it once more - lightly and with love - and let it go.

Why do we love our dogs so much? Perhaps it is because a dog offers no advice, no counsel, no suggestions on self-improvement. They offer only the profound act of looking at us without judgment, and loving us, with exuberant joy, exactly as we are. 

Humans find it difficult to see others without judgment, and the ability to offer unconditional acceptance is a rare act of love. We are too preoccupied with worrying what others think of us or trying to make an impression, to be non-judgemental, and what love we have to offer comes with conscious and unconscious expectations. 

Most of us can offer non-judgemental and unconditional acceptance only when we have consciously and deliberately made friends with ourselves, in the deepest, most intimate sense. As you become entirely and completely familiar with yourself and accept yourself inside and out you come to realize that you share the same body and experience the same needs as every other human on Earth. This realization awakens compassion for ourselves and all of humanity.   

There is a Buddhist chant that goes: "It is my nature to age, I have not gone beyond aging; It is my nature to become sick, I have not gone beyond sickness; It is my nature to die, I have not gone beyond dying.”

Though I faced an illness that almost took my life at age 27, I don't believe that I really understood the concept of my own mortality then, but I remember vividly when that realization occurred. Oddly enough it was not at a time of illness or stress. I was not grieving or facing loss. I simply woke up one morning with the awareness of my eventual and certain death. It came with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, a surge of fear. The fear quickly subsided, but the awareness persisted.

At my age, I’ve lost many friends and relatives. Several have refused to face their own mortality, and have even denied to their last conscious moment that they were even facing a serious illness. There was no discussion of their impending death because they wouldn't admit that anything was wrong. To the end everyone tiptoed around the subject. And because they were caught up in fear we lost the opportunity to support them and lovingly ease their transition from this world.  

My brother-in-law and one of my most beloved childhood friends both died of ALS. Brother-in-law denied his illness and refused to acknowledge it, even as his muscles wasted away to nothing and he could no longer sit, speak, swallow and finally breathe. He had behaved very badly, even violently, toward other family members. He was terrified of dying. Though I was holding his hand when he died I felt we had failed him. 

On the other hand my friend and I talked openly about her impending death, about the husband and children she was leaving behind, about fear, gratitude, our many wonderful memories and our love for each other. We left nothing unsaid, and before she died she said she was at peace and asked us not to mourn. 

From a Buddhist view, illness and acknowledging the transience of your mortal existence provides a profound opportunity for spiritual transformation. When we quit running and turn to face our fear of pain and death we can experience life’s richness, without the mental and emotional convolutions of avoidance. When we embrace illness and pain without fear it can allow us to develop serenity and deep compassion for the suffering of other beings. 

Know Thyself

There was a fragile old man who lived in a miserable hut at the edge of a city. Every morning he went into the streets with a cracked bowl which he held out for alms. He never complained about his situation or his struggle. He took what was given with gratitude. 

One day when he returned from his routine he saw that his hut had been taken over by a young beggar who was eating his rice and had dug up the few coins he had wrapped in a twist of cloth and buried in the floor, in case he might be ill a few days. 

Old man went inside the hut. The young beggar clutched the bowl of rice he had found and demanded, “Who are you?" 

Old man replied, “I am you, in a different body, and I am shivering,” he said. And he took off his robe and held it out to the young beggar. 

The young beggar, instead of looking upon as the old man’s gesture as one of compassion, took him for a fool. He snatched the robe from the old man’s hands and then stripped the old man from head to toe, leaving him standing naked. “Is that all you have?” he asked. 

Old man replied, “When you have everything you have nothing, and when you have nothing left you have everything.”

The young man was confused. 

The old man smiled and said, “Ignorant child, you are trapped in an illusion that you can’t see, feel or touch and you are held fast by invisible chains. Until we realize who we truly are it doesn’t matter what we own. Even if you become richer than the Emperor you will always be held fast by suffering.” 

The young beggar froze. He felt that he understood a little what Old man was saying. 

Old man chanted, "Gate Gate ParaGate ParaSamGate Bodhi Svaha". 

"No treasure can compare to it, no money can buy it, no wealth can occupy it, no pleasure can satisfy it, no eyes can find it, no ears can hear it, no tongue can taste it, no hands can feel it, no mind can imagine it. Oh, dear child what is this treasure?" Old man asked, “Find this, for we are born only to realize it.” 

Young man's illusory world shattered, his face grew bright and he awakened. 

Old man bowed to him, said “Know thyself,” and vanished.