October 13, 2010
So there I am getting a bikini wax and talking about Buddhism with Fernanda, the gorgeous dark-eyed aestetician from Brazil, with whom I have had in-depth conversations about yoga, juicing and marriage.
"Do you teach about the Buddha?" she asks, while testing the temperature of the wax against the back of her wrist.
"Mmmm…not so much. That's not really my area of expertise," I say, clenching my teeth and wishing I'd taken an Advil before our appointment.
"I'm very interested in the Buddha. I have a meditation CD I'm doing. It says we get too attached and attachment causes suffering," she says as she vigorously yanks a strip of muslin away from my thigh and I yowl and flinch.
I think they may have it backwards, those Buddhists.
October 12, 2010
Some mornings, when I'm scheduled to teach and I've kinda sorta got nothing, I randomly pick up a book of poems from the ridiculously overstuffed bookshelves to flip through.
I don't believe (mostly) in oracles or runes or throwing bones, although I think if one is creative enough that one can find some sort of meaningful interpretation in any of those things, or in the shapes of the clouds, or a wish on a dandelion.
Today's selection was simply perfect.
They usually are.
I think that's what happens when we learn how to look.
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
In this tradition you could never be found because you've never actually been lost at all.
There is only recognition and the lack of it.
October 11, 2010
I'm playing hooky from posting today and going to get a massage instead.
I am, however, inching along on my book commitment.