Windows

The cat loves the window.  Kitty TV.  She never seems to tire of looking out at the birds and squirrels.  The green space behind the house is often visited by deer, a tiny micro meadow adjacent to a fairly busy road.

There isn't a lot going on for me right now.  Actually, there isn't a lot going on for a lot of people as we collectively try and stay healthy during the coronavirus pandemic.  The trips I had planned, the restaurants I enjoy, the movie theaters I visit -- everything is on hold. 

There have been some good things that have sprung up out of staying at home.  I've discovered the joys of grocery delivery.  I marvel at how much less money I spend when I don't go into the store.  Now that the panic buying has subsided and paper products are beginning to reappear, getting everything on my shopping list has become more dependable.  

I've been retired for four years now, so I've had a little practice keeping myself entertained at home.  But while we wait out the virus I am challenged to find new ways of being with myself and others.  Does the cat miss going outside? The window she and I enjoy looks out over my green space, but another window looks inward where there is also ample space to explore. 

 

Dear Terrorist

I woke up this morning thinking of you, so I thought I would drop you a line.  I write to you not knowing who you are or where you are so how to reach you is unclear.

I imagine you are young.  I am a grandmother.  I hope this is not a deterrent to you hearing me out.  I will try to keep it brief.  Maybe you are busy, or hiding.

I know you were small once and that you have parents.  Maybe you have siblings and a grandmother like me.  It is not easy growing up and I know this because I had to grow up like you.  In a lot of ways I am still growing up.

If you are thinking that we have nothing in common, I would have to disagree.  We have everything in common that really matters.  We both have hearts that beat, we breath in and out, we seek joy, feel love, live life, desire much, experience pain, endure loneliness, and cling to hope to name just a few.  We are only human, you and I.

Which is why I am writing to you, wherever you are.  Before you take the next step into whatever terrorist thing you are planning, could you think, really think, about our common humanity?

If we sat down together in my house with whoever your youngest family member might be, my grandkids, your mom and maybe some family photos, a pot of tea or some good coffee, we could talk, about everything.  We could take turns listening.  We might be surprised to find we have a few things we could laugh about together.  Maybe you would change your mind about the suicide vest. 

We are all only human you know.  And really, what is left behind after so many die?  If you die we will be forced to go on without you.  Your dreams and hopes and ability to become great here on earth will be forgotten.  I wonder if that is what you really want?

Sincerely,
The Common Denominator

The Smiley Light!!

Dear Diary:

I live in a smile-and-wave community.

I just love it. People say hello (it seems to me) a lot. Total strangers smile-and-wave, smile-and-wave. It happens often. Sometimes it can be a little annoying. I don’t know these people. I’m either not very threatening or I look like I need a friend. Maybe I have unconsciously taken on the characteristics of my Labrador retriever and everyone just assumes I’m friendly. Alright, to be honest I start a lot of this stuff – it makes me feel good.

I remember playing a game with my peers once when I was in high school, only they didn’t know we were playing a game.

The optimal time to play this game was when I was walking down the hallway alone and I would encounter a fellow student. I did not play the game with teachers or school administrators. They were generally hard-wired and auto-response driven and were not a reliable indicator of a decisive win.

Also, I wouldn't play the game in a crowd as it did not work in this bastion of puberty, due to the extremely high levels of hormonal static and the risk of fatal stigma shock. This meant early morning or after school hours. In order to play my game, a student would have to have 1) just come from some mandatory penance or make up exam, 2) a rigid scowl plastered across his or her face, and 3) at least two frown lines ingrained across their forehead.  The name of the game was, “I can make you smile.” This is how I played it.

Spotting the unsuspecting player I always made the first move and shifted my path slightly so as to deliberately invade their personal space which for a high school student is about a 5 to 8 foot radius in every possible direction. At a juncture that synchronized their full body scan of me, my full body scan of them, and my pace with their pace, I locked onto my target and our eyes would meet.

At that instant, in that fleeting micro second between eye blinks and not a moment too soon or too late the eyes must smile. Not the mouth so much, but the eyes must emit The Smiley Light!! 

This, my friend is ultimate power and something you must experience to believe! This force has been known to disarm every cranky pants in its path! This is what Pinky and the Brain never figured out in their quest to take over the world. This is what the Angry Beavers failed to conceive of.  This is what Ren and Stempy used to have before Ren stopped taking his medication.

Anyway, across the board game continuum that were my high school years and even beyond into the early days of career building I played The Smiley Light game until I forgot how and the busy, dawn to dark years had their way with me.

Fortunately, in my neighborhood, everybody plays and sometimes I even get to be the cranky pants.

Signed,
Chuckles

Doorways and Anchors

Another experience of separation came to teach me this week disguised in the sudden death of a beloved pet.  What I took for granted, expected to exist and cared for every day, was gone in a matter of seconds.  How do we, how do I bring the truth of life's frailty into a shared space with the pain of separation?  Acceptance and helplessness seem joined at the hip in some circumstances.

The Buddha taught that impermanence will cause separation from everything and everyone I care for.  Pain will occur in some shape or form, in every living being.  Suffering, however, arises from grasping for what cannot be, and also for what can be.  We do not have to suffer.

These teachings are beautiful, simple truths.  As I live out my days in these latter years of my existence my feelings seem more intense than ever.  And as I make a space for my experiences to dwell, I am learning to hold them and regard them with loving compassion.

Without judgement, I look at them all; the anxious thought, worry, sadness, peacefulness, joy and acceptance as they appear.  No longer do I entertain negative self-talk as I did for so many years.  Shaming, chastising internal dialogue has been exposed and abandoned.

Where there is love, kindness and self-acceptance alive in me, all these can then be available to others, genuinely.  Life in this moment is our agent for joy, peace and hope.

Another loved one passes through the door of earthly time, and what I feel is what it takes to anchor them within my heart forever.

The Flag

On my way home from work my commute takes me past a hill upon which the American flag has flown since shortly after 9/11.

The first time I saw the flag there, I felt it spoke to deep and heartfelt commitment to freedom, liberty, courage and justice.  Our nation was reeling in shock, anger and grief over the devastation of 9/11.  Life in the United States would from that day forward, be reframed by those horrific images of terrorism.  Safety within our borders would never again be taken for granted.

This week as I drove by I was again struck by the quiet presence and inspiration of the flag.  The flag had been flying there all day in the hot summer sun.

Who protects it from harsh elements and shields it from harm?  What must be done to enable it to withstand foul weather?  What is it made of that gives it such resilience?  The noble values that our flag stands for must endure hardship too.  Humanity can produce abject failure in its efforts to survive.  Gross missteps sometimes linger on for generations.  Fear and ignorance often produce disturbing and painful history.

There are rules that govern the proper display of the flag.  There is such a thing as “Flag Etiquette.”  Displaying what the flag represents is also a kind of etiquette that can become a part of who we are as a country.

Honor.  Respect.  Duty to community and service to country.  Justice.  Liberty,  Peace and compassion.  And, dare I add, Love.  The symbols we hold dear are best displayed in the actions that we exhibit towards those around us.