My dad and brother have been working to get better access to talking to my brother in Mongolia. Since he’s moved out of the capital of Ulaanbataar, calling him has been impossible. So we’ve moved to the internet and set up webcams. Last night (or early morning for him) we did the first successful run and all three of us were up and talking and viewing each others webcams simultaneously–very cool!

However, that morning I was still in bed and checking my email on my iPod Touch and trying out a little online tool called JiveTalk that lets me access Instant Messenging on my Touch. Well, I noticed my brother was online (he’s 12 hours ahead of us so meeting up at the same time can be dicey) and I dove out of bed and ran for the Webcam thinking we’d give it a go. Halfway to the office, I realized what I looked like and that people–my sister-in-law!–would be seeing me. I had to detour to the bathroom and try for a quick clean up. All that and it was a false alarm. Later that night when we did make it work, it was an unexpected connection again and I didn’t look much better by 8:30pm and had to sit through the whole thing seeing myself and groaning inside–vanity, oh, vanity! Still, I have to say my brother looked worse being 8:30am in Mongolia and his hair was sticking everywhere. My sister-in-law looked great, though, and it was wonderful to see my nephews on the camera. I don’t think they quite knew what was going on, but maybe next time when we’ve all had a chance to figure it out better. Anyway, the lesson learned is that I’m apparently now going to always have to look fantastic, just in case!

NOTE: I will warn that this will probably be a long ramble as I’m sorting much of this out as I go.

I’ve read a couple things lately on various blogs and a Buddhist message board about how difficult it seems to be for Westerners to choose a specific religious tradition within Buddhism (and I think even within Christianity these days).

There does seem to be a trend that the Western mindset is more reticent to join and fully commit to one tradition. I think many (not all) of them are coming to Buddhism as adults and out of one tradition or another of Christianity. I certainly fit that demographic and am coming out of a Fundamental Baptist Christian tradition which was very group oriented and very much held the ideology that they had the monopoly on truth and spirituality and other traditions within and without of the Christian faith did not. This background has two impacts on me in terms of choosing a single tradition: one, I have a distrust of organized religious groups, and two, I have a dislike of “my way or the highway” mentality. Now, I am not saying that specific Buddhist traditions have the mindset of “my way or the highway” (although I am sure that there are some)–I’m simply saying that is what it sometimes translates to in the mind of someone who has struggled to come to an acceptance of truth found in many and diverse paths.

That being said, I understand and even agree that there is strength found in finding a tradition and following it, there is a continuity and power in being focused, rather than scattered. One of the things I respect about Buddhists, such as Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama (I believe), is their understanding of the powerful impact of our root traditions. They really encouraged me to go back to my root tradition (our cultural spirituality that we are raised with–for many Westerners that means Christianity) and find truth and peace within that if possible. This caused me to go back to Christianity and look for a spiritual center, a truth, that stood outside of a specific tradition (like the Fundamental Baptist segment I was raised with). I found a new movement that embodies the best that Christianity exemplifies and a core belief that is beautiful and to be respected. I saw individual people, like my mother and my grandmother, who come from different Christian traditions but exemplify the beauty found in Christianity. I found in my close Christian friends a “new to me” open heart and mind approach to Christianity that lets go of traditions and returns to core beliefs. In the end I reaffirmed that it was not a path for me, but it has been very healing for me to let go of some of my anger and pain that are tangled with that tradition and find the beauty and truth that resonate there.

Which swings me back around to picking a specific tradition. Buddhism, like Christianity (I should qualify that as New Testament Christianity), started out with a core individual who offered a new, reimagined truth to their time–Gautama Buddha and Jesus. They taught and exemplified a core set of truths and ideas and walked a path for others to follow. Since their respective time periods these core ideologies have been taken up by many different groups and cultures and have blended with other cultural ideologies and beliefs and have split off into many and various traditions. I think this process would be true of any spirituality that lasts any length of time but I don’t know enough of other groups to talk about them. My concern when it comes down to choosing a specific Buddhist tradition is colored by the damage to core teachings of Jesus that I see some Christian religious groups have done over the centuries. I do not believe that Buddhism is exempt from this process of shifting a spiritual practice and ideology to a religious “ism”. One of the most powerful books I read that addresses this issue within the context of Buddhism is Handbook for Mankind by Buddhadasa Bhikkhu–the opening chapter entitled “Looking at Buddhism” is a very powerful look at the way Buddhism has changed and splintered over the centuries. “The real practice of Buddhism,” he writes, “is based on purification of conduct by way of body and speech, followed by purification of the mind, which in its turn leads to insight and right understanding” (19). He asserts that many of the “ism” aspects, the ceremonies and traditions and “add ons” so to speak, “obscure the real Buddhism and its original purpose” (16). (For Christians, I’m sure there are similar books, I think The Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell is a good one) I think it is well worth tracking down a used copy of Handbook for Mankind–but you can also read the whole thing, or at least the first chapter I’m talking about, online (this link goes directly to a .pdf file). There is also an excellent essay or talk of his found online about the essential points of Buddhism where he tells about a metaphor the Buddha made:

While walking through the forest, the Buddha picked up a handful of fallen leaves and asked the monks who were present, which was the greater amount - the leaves in his hand or all the leave in the forest. They all said that the leaves in the forest were much more, so much that it was beyond comparison. Even now, try to imagine the scene and see the truth of this, how much more they are, The Buddha then said that, similarly, those things which he had realized and which he knew were a great amount, equal to all the leaves in the forest - but that which was necessary to know, those things which should be taught and practiced, were equal to the number of leaves in his hand.

It reminded me of a verse in the Bible that notes that if everything there was to be known was written down, the books would fill up the entire earth–yet when Jesus is asked what the most important truth or commandment was, he said it was to love the Lord your God, and to love your neighbor as yourself. You had to love God, you have to love yourself, and you have to love your neighbor the same as you love yourself. A handful of leaves with love and compassion at the core. For Buddhism, it is the understanding and cessation of suffering.

And so, I have talked myself all the way around to the fact that while I believe it can be comforting, I don’t believe that choosing a specific tradition or branch of any religion is necessary, and sometimes I think it can be detrimental to spirituality because it sometimes obscures the very simple core truths that should be the focus of our path.

A HOPI ELDER SPEAKS:

“You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is THE HOUR. And there are things to be considered…

Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.

Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time! There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly. Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time
in history, we are to take nothing personally. Least of all, ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
Oraibi, Arizona
Hopi Nation

——

Right now my truth is that I have been clutching the shore, slipping back into old mindsets that somehow if I worry over every possible outcome I will be prepared for whatever happens. I learned a long time ago (thank you, Tao of Pooh) to ride the river–to let go of the shore and keep my eyes open and my head out of the water, so to speak. Sometimes we forget, for a moment or two or three, the things that were so hard earned and learned! Then something simple, like a new flower opening reminds me to “smile, breathe, and go slowly” (Thich Nhat Hanh).

There is something about spring, new flowers, opening leaves, that inspires hope.

I over analyze things. I am, after all, an English major and digging into a text is fun for me. But this over analyzing gets in the way sometimes, which is why small, simple books like For a Future to be Possible are good for me–because I am struck by the simple things that I loose in the continual shuffle of my mind. The terms “compassion” and “loving kindness” are akin to mantras in Buddhism–they are expounded on in nearly every book, every talk on the subject. I thought I’d given them a great deal of thought, but what I’d really given a great deal of thought to is compassion as somehow the two had blended together and had become synonymous. Being two aspects of love, they are deeply connected, but they are different:

“Compassion…is the intention and capacity to relieve the suffering of another person or living being. Loving kindness…is the intention and capacity to bring joy and happiness to another person or living being” (16).

There is strength in their connection–but a profoundness in their differences that I missed.

As I said before, March was completely hectic and overwhelming, by the end of it I was starting to get that drowning feeling that comes with having an unbalanced, crazy schedule. Monday I had the wonderful feeling of my head breaking out of the water and getting the first real gasp of air and then the serenity of floating on the top. It was warm (72 degrees F) and sunny and we spent the day outside or in our three season porch getting it cleaned up and ready to enjoy on the next lovely day that blows our way–the whole day was an excersize in meditation and meditation had been about non-existent last month! Not this month, the chaos of last month and some unsettling health issues with my son this week have shown me how much I need and miss the centering that meditation brings to me. I did remember to do Thich Nhat Hanh’s smiling meditation whenever I realized how tense I was and how tight my breathing was:

Breathing in, I calm my body.
Breathing out, I smile.
Breathing in, there is only the present moment.
Breathing out, it is a wonderful moment.

I am sure there were people passing me on the road or walking to class who really wondered at my deep breathing and ridiculous smile. Still, “Our smile affirms our awareness and determination to live in peace and joy” (TNH). Not to mention a ridiculous smile is probably better than the ridiculous dancing and singing I’m usually doing while driving.

Speaking of singing and dancing, I’ve had my iPod Touch for a month now and I still love it completely–there really isn’t anything I don’t like about it. I’m looking forward to the software upgrade in June that will allow it to use third party programs (I’d like a word processor) and have games not dependent on a wi-fi connection. I have to say, though, that I’m nearly always close to one wi-fi spot or another and can pretty well check my email whenever I want throughout the day. The only problem I’ve had with it is the video capability. I thought I’d never use the video aspect of it–well, three seasons of Farscape later, I have to concede that I love the video capability a little too much. That, combined with the crazy month, combined with school has made it a little slow reading month–time to chop down my “currently reading” list to make room for summer reading. In an effort to cut down that list, I went to the bookstore last night.

Going to the bookstore for me is a very zen experience, I love to just walk through and run my fingers across the spines of books, browse through all the nick knacks, grab a cup of tea, and completely zone down. I walked out with some sticky arrows (love them), a zipper bag for receipts and such that is recycled from a rice bag, and another Thich Nhat Hanh book (albeit its a little one!): For a Future to be Possible. This is a great little book that just focuses on the five mindfulness trainings which are the basic statement of ethics and morality in Buddhism (here is the shorthand version, you can read TNH’s longer versions here):

1. I am committed to cultivating compassion and learning ways to protect the lives of all beings.
2. I am committed to cultivating loving kindness and learning ways to work for the well being of all.
3. I am committed to cultivating sexual responsibility and learning ways to protect the safety and integrity of individuals, couples, families, and society.
4. I am committed to cultivating loving speech and deep listening in order to bring joy and happiness to others and relieve others of their suffering.
5. I am committed to cultivating good health, both physically and mentally, for myself, my family, and my society by practicing mindful eating, drinking, and consuming.

Anyway, so far a great book to throw in my purse and snatch bits of reading on. I need to focus on #5!

I was seventeen years old when my sister Joanna was born and while babies were not unheard of in my family (I’m one of seven children and the second oldest)–I wasn’t too young to be annoyed or too old to care and she became a bit like my first child. I was in love at first sight and I think the feeling was mutual. I would steal her out of bed at night to sleep with me, or would climb into her crib and sleep with her. I took her everywhere I could. When I got married, she was about three and she was very confused and not very happy. She had to be removed during the wedding for being upset and when my new husband and I got in the car to leave–she tried to climb in the car as well. The first weeks I was married and would leave my mom’s to go to my new apartment, I remember her standing in the window of the house crying–it broke my heart.

I thought of that little girl when I saw her standing at the end of the aisle getting ready to walk down it to her very handsome husband to be (welcome to the family, Caleb) and it was bittersweet. Life goes by so fast, so very very fast. How did that little baby turn into a lovely bride–when did that happen? It just slipped in there and suddenly I was back in the church helping her out of her wedding dress and she was no longer a bride even–she was a woman, a wife, beautiful, strong…but still, and always, a baby sister.

I love you Joanna.

March was a completely insane month for me–my sister is getting married on Saturday, so it started at the beginning of the month with her wedding shower, then my husband’s 40th birthday party, then Easter, than another sister’s 20th birthday, then my son’s 18th birthday party, then….wait, let’s repeat that last.

My son turned 18 years old.

I will try not to get too mushy here as I already did that when he turned 16 and that does just fine to describe why his turning 18 is extra incredible. Suffice it to say that the first year of Michael’s life was difficult, everything we were told, everything we read said he wouldn’t live to be one year old. Doctors appointments 3x a week, hospital stays again and again, oxygen, feeding tubes, and then some how I found myself in the parking lot of Toys R Us with my husband and son to pick up something and it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks that he was turning one years old in the next week or two. I had blocked myself from thinking of his first birthday because it had changed the instant we learned what he was born with from a happy occasion to some kind of horrible dead line or expiration date. Needless to say, we went a little crazy in Toys R Us that day crash shopping for a beautiful first birthday.

Since then, birthdays for my son have always come with that mixed bag of emotions–elation, apprehension, joy for today, fear for the future all jumbled up together. Eighteen. Eighteen has hit me like the first birthday did–I never thought about his turning one–but, eighteen!

I am so proud of my son. I am proud of his strength of body and mind, but I am most proud of his spirit. He is what people might call a gentle soul and his intuitive compassion teaches me things that I struggle with all the time. Children sense it and are drawn to him, and animals sense it and are drawn to him–there is a quiet, compassionate strength in him that I find inspiring. He is quiet, most often, drawing 9 times out of 10, so that when he bursts into noisy exuberance (usually either when playing a favorite video game or in talking to his birds)–it’s surprising, shocking really, and even if it is so loud it is driving you crazy, you have to laugh because it is so full of pure enthusiasm.

I think turning eighteen was a little discombobulating to him as well, but he came to me with the conclusion that age didn’t really matter–he would just be himself whatever that meant, and that would be okay.

It’s more than okay. Happy Birthday, Michael, I look forward to many many more birthdays of you just being wonderfully you.

(Note: Click the picture above to see the slide show I put together for the party–you’ll have to imagine the music–Iz’s version of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, then Five for Fighting’s “100 Years”, ending in the last part of Yael Naim’s “New Soul”)