Wednesday, October 11, 2006

My Mom is Amazing

 


I wanted to copy this post from my moms blog
because I see in it how I am SO much like her.
She writes with eloquence here and note - this
is not a boring blog! My mom is the most real,
the most genuine person I will ever know. Enjoy..



I've been tagged by Gangadhar to list 8
things about myself, and if I give it much
thought I will probably stall and not do it, out
of sheer fright of 'exposure'! But, I just had a
cup of coffee, and I'm revved up, so here
goes....stuff that just enters my mind:


1. I'm constantly pondering human nature,
its current definition and its possibilities and
its limitations. (this would have been my exact answer!)
All over the world I see the
effects of poverty and injustice, and I wonder
if we are stuck with an abysmal sense of
human worth. Because if we thought and
lived better, we'd upgrade what it meant to
be human.



2. I would prefer to live in the country, so
that when I wake up in the morning there is
just a vast image of pastoral beauty. Snow-
capped mountains are great, and so is a
bubbling stream, and deer in a meadow.
(Bucolic fantasies, shaped in childhood. ) I
now live in a 'working class town', a city that
is a sister to Seattle, with its cargo ships and
shipyards, its wonderful mix of cultures and
ethnicities. When I grew up in Montana,
Indians were the only other race, and they
were so marginalized we never saw them.
When I was young, I never questioned that.



3. I enjoy going for daily walks through the
campus of the University of Puget Sound, so
that I can listen to the conversations of the
students as they pass me on the walkway. I
walk along in a T-shirt, jeans, and hiking
boots, and the girls who pass wear little
shirts with thin straps, with indeterminate
waistlines, with each layer hitting a different
belly-mark, showing skin and a summer tan.
These girls seem totally distracted by the
man-woman thing to have any comprehension
of academics and life in the world. They sit
on the grass and preen, like turkeys, and
hope that the boys throwing the football on
the commons will glance their way. They
have a book on their lap, but talk with great
animation on their cell-phone, about alcohol
and a party on the weekend. I don't think
things have changed much in the past 40
years with these young folk on campus - just
the props are different. I feel sorry for them,
for the limitations that they experience. It will
get better.


(Mom with her twin Bonnie)

4. Politics have always been difficult for me
to comprehend. It always seems more
theatrical than prudent and effective. I am
appalled at the partisan divisions that create
so much strife and backbiting, which
ultimately delay real progress. I also have to
admit my own intellectual limitations - there
is much that my mind simply can't contain.
It's all too complicated, a network of impaired
relationships and poor communication....all
in need of massive cleaning up so that some
real work can get done. I hope this happens
someday.



5. My mind 'drops' information that I wish it
would keep, because it could be useful later.
Like names - I have a hard time
remembering the names of some of the
residents I took care of when I worked as a
caregiver. Frequently I'll remember them,
with the greatest fondness, and doggone-it if
I can't remember their name. I'll remember
bathing them, dressing them, organizing
their closet - even remember all their habits -
but, I'll not remember their name.
Sometimes, I imagine the gates of Heaven
are lined with these old ones, and when I
arrive I'd like to be able to say, "Hi Dorothy!",
"There you are, Shirley". You see if I can't
remember their name, they might think they
weren't important to me - and they were.



6. I have enormous difficulty with small-talk,
or extended language on anything (even
writing). Growing up, out in Montana, I greatly
appreciate the succinct language and writing
of the ranchers there - like words spoken
during a windstorm or snowstorm, shouted
across vast distances. They keep it simple,
unflourished, unpretentious - "storm's
comin' up". Those few words conjur up all
kinds of stuff that has to be processed
privately, quickly. No time for more words.
Everyone will be thinking about the work
they have to do, and how to get it done. I
also love the dialogue of children, for the
same reasons. (And, the simple dialogue in
"The Color Purple", where the language fits
the character, Celie, making her so real.)



7. I would like to see history written in the
context of 'spirit' and 'human evolution', not
just territorial disputes and wars and politics.
That part of history is tedious, and I forgot all
the details of who won what war due to what
grievance. When I was in high school, taking
world history, I just loved map-making, the
migrations and settlements, the rise of
civilization in Mesopotamia, and the new
inventions making communication and
travel so easy. I wondered what is ahead for
all of us and how does one prepare children
for the greater world, a world filled with so
much conflict and violence. One of my
concerns is language, how it is used, and
the impact it has. Some day I think a book
will be written on how we perpetuate 'poor
practices' due to poor communication skills.
Good communication will be one of the
challenges when we attempt to promote
global collaboration in order to improve people's lives.




8. And, of course, all of you know by now
that I cherish seeing my children, listening to
them, watching them, being with them. They
are all sooooooo different, like desserts.
Ruhu'llah could be lemon merangue pie;
Ruhiyyih, apple pie; Laurel, chocolate cream;
Taraz, pumpkin; and Rahmat, pecan pie! All
of them, my favorite! And, those flavors do
fit them, they know why.



..I love you Mom
 
 
 
 

Friday, February 10, 2006

Blog Ideas

Things i would like to do before i die (add one thing you would like to do) Which one should i marry? Ram speech preview with Oizo music Bios - Daft punk, Afx, Gigi I have no parents; I make the Heavens and the Earth my parents.I have no home; I make the Tan T'ien my home. I have no divine power; I make honesty my Divine Power. I have no means; I make Docility my means. I have no magic power; I make personality my Magic Power. I have neither life nor death; I make A Um my Life and Death. I have no body; I make Stoicism my Body. I have no eyes; I make The Flash of Lightning my eyes. I have no ears; I make Sensibility my Ears. I have no limbs; I make Promptitude my Limbs. I have no laws; I make Self-Protection my Laws. I have no strategy; I make the Right to Kill and the Right to Restore Life my Strategy. I have no designs; I make Seizing the Opportunity by the Forelock my Designs. I have no miracles; I make Righteous Laws my Miracle. I have no principles; I make Adaptability to all circumstances my Principle. I have no tactics; I make Emptiness and Fullness my Tactics. I have no talent; I make Ready Wit my Talent. I have no friends; I make my Mind my Friend. I have no enemy; I make Incautiousness my Enemy. I have no armour; I make Benevolence my Armour. I have no castle; I make Immovable Mind my Castle. I have no sword; I make No Mind my Sword. 8:44 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment Monday, October 31, 2005 The Buddha My father was Suddhodana, king of the Sakhyas. My mother was named Maya. I was born in B.C. 560 and died at the age of eighty in B.C. 480. The place of my birth was a grove known as Lumbini, near the city of Kapilavastu, at the foot of Mount Palpa in the Himalayan ranges within Nepal. This small city Kapilavastu stood on the bank of the little river Rohini, some hundred miles north-east of the city of Varnasi. As the time drew nigh for me to enter the world, the gods themselves prepared the way before me with celestial portents and signs. Flowers bloomed and gentle rains fell, although out of season; heavenly music was heard, delicious scents filled the air. My body bore at birth the thirty-two auspicious marks (Mahavyanjana) which indicated his future greatness, besides secondary marks (Anuvyanjana) in large numbers. My mother died seven days after my birth. I was was brought up by my mother's sister Mahaprajapati, who became my foster-mother. My original name was Siddhartha. It meant one who had accomplished his aim. Gautama was my family name. I was known all over the world as Buddha, the Enlightened. I was also known by the name of Sakhya Muni, which meant an ascetic of the Sakhya tribe. I spent my boyhood at Kapilavastu and its vicinity. i was married at the age of sixteen. My wife's name was Yasodhara. I had a son named Rahula. At the age of twenty-nine, I suddenly abandoned my home to devote myself entirely to spiritual pursuits and Yogic practices. A mere accident turned me to the path of renunciation. One day I managed, somehow or the other, to get out of the walled enclosure of the palace and roamed about in the town along with my servant Channa to see how the people were getting on. The sight of a decrepit old man, a sick man, a corpse and a monk finally induced me to renounce the world. I felt that I also would become a prey to old age, disease and death. Also, I noticed the serenity and the dynamic personality of the monk. Let me go beyond the miseries of this Samsara (worldly life) by renouncing this world of miseries and sorrows. This mundane life, with all its luxuries and comforts, is absolutely worthless. I also am subject to decay and am not free from the effect of old age. Worldly happiness is transitory". I left for ever my home, wealth, dominion, power, father, wife and the only child. I shaved my head and put on yellow robes. I marched towards Rajgriha, the capital of the kingdom of Magadha. There were many caves in the neighbouring hills. Many hermits lived in those caves. I took Alamo Kalamo, a hermit, as my first teacher. I was not satisfied with his instructions. I left him and sought the help of another recluse named Uddako Ramputto for spiritual instructions. At last I determined to undertake Yogic practices. I practiced severe Tapas (austerities) and Pranayama (practice of breath control) for six years. I determined to attain the supreme peace by practicing self-mortification. I abstained almost entirely from taking food. I did not find much progress by adopting this method. I was reduced to a skeleton. I became exceedingly weak. I went to Sravasti, the capital of the kingdom of Kosala. Here a wealthy merchant gave me for residence an extensive and beautiful forest. I spent many rainy seasons there and delivered several grand discourses. I preached my doctrine for over forty-five years traveling from place to place. I said to Ananda, "Go Ananda, prepare for me, between twin Sal trees, a couch with the head northward. I am exhausted and would like to lie down". A wonderful scene followed. The twin Sal trees burst into full bloom although it was not the blossoming season. Those flowers fell on my body out of reverence. Divine coral tree flowers and divine sandalwood powders fell from above on my body out of reverence. I Lord Buddha said, "Come now, dear monks. I bid you farewell. Compounds are subject to dissolution. Prosper ye through diligence and work out your salvation".

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