Curiosity and Kindness

So I was talking with a new friend about the ravages of old age, and my inner crone suggested that we may find them less trying if we view them with curiosity and kindness. If we look at the changes in our bodies and minds with simple curiosity instead of dread or anger. If we treat ourselves gently and be kind to ourselves about these changes.

Hey, let's be kind out there.

Today's thought

Actually, it's my horoscope:

Today's New Moon falls in your 11th House of Long-Term Goals, luring you to think about the distant future instead of the next few days. But instead of kicking back and slipping into a series of daydreams, it's best to take the bull by the horns and methodically build your ideal fantasy one concrete thought at a time. Planning is very useful now as long as you are willing to follow through with the work later on.

Since I'm on vacation until January 5th, now is an especially good time for me to do some planning. In between my mad social whirl, of course. I went to a long "hang out around some munchies" party on Christmas day, and yesterday I went on a hike with Wilderness Women in the morning and attended Kung Pau Kosher Comedy in the evening. Today I get to have acupuncture and do a little shopping and my laundry.

As for planning, I have some questions to resolve about my Times Mirror pension, which is being held by the Tribune, which has just declared bankruptcy. And eventually Jim's old flat will be ready for occupancy, and I'll have to finally decide whether to move downstairs. And then decide when to retire, and what to do with myself then, etc. That is to say, "build my ideal fantasy." Off to the drawing board.

One Hundred Million Miracles

"People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child--our own two eyes. All is a miracle."

Thich Nhat Hanh, "Miracle of Mindfulness"

Which reminded me of Einstein's saying:

"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."

Which brought me to the title of this posting, which is a song from the musical "Flower Drum Song" about all the wonders of daily life.

Which reminded me of the more temperate approach of the Jewish rabbis, who ask folks to find one hundred occasions every day to bless God for something.

Considering these thoughts might be a good test for depression: if you cannot at least imagine a frame of mind in which everything might be viewed as a miracle, you're depressed.

Things are going pretty well for me right now. The weather is clear and sunny, and I have warm clothing, a roof over my head, and friends. Yes, there are problems in the world, but, yes, there are also many, many miracles.

Let's Hear it for Impermanence!

Here's a great thought from today's Buddhist wisdom:

No matter how bad a state of mind you may get into, if you keep strong and hold out, eventually the floating clouds must vanish and the withering wind must cease.-Dogen

A very good thought for when one's mind is otherwise full of uncomfortable stuff.

What's Worth Saying?

Regrettably, I celebrated the Jewish New Year by engaging in lashon hara, or evil speech, which is one of the worst sins in Jewish theology. I kvetched to one friend about another one. Such talk, however true it might be, is a no-no, because it does nobody any good. In fact, it brings some (at least) spiritual harm to the speaker, the listener, and the person spoken about.

Such talk is also condemned in Buddhist writings:

Abandoning gossip, he abstains from gossip; he speaks at the right time, speaks what is fact, speaks on what is good, speaks on the Dhamma and the Discipline; at the right time he speaks such words as are worth recording, reasonable, moderate, and beneficial.

This statement helpfully suggests what one should talk about instead of what is condemned, and in terms very similar to those used by the Jewish sages, who recommend that every conversation include a word of Torah.

Sometimes my conversations are uplifting, although I will confess a real tendency towards irreverence. Sometimes I catch myself before saying something unedifying. But more often, my mouth runs uncontrolled, snide and caustic. That's a habit I picked up at my father's knee (and other low joints), and am trying to lose.

Jews are lucky to have two New Years to celebrate, the Hebrew and the Gregorian one. This gives us two opportunities each year to make New Year's resolutions. (Actually, there are four different Jewish new years, but Rosh Hashanah is the main one.)

I wish us all a sweet and healthy new year, and much success in whatever resolutions we have made.

Action is the Magic Word

That's something my mother used to say. Here's what Benjamin Disraeli had to say on the subject: Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action.

I've been having a serious problem with procrastination lately. Whenever I think about the chores that I'm not doing, I feel really bad. But when I take myself in hand and actually dig into them, it's not so bad. And I feel much better as I actually get stuff done.

There has to be some reason that I hang back from my duties despite the emotional unpleasantness it causes. And some reason why I keep forgetting how much better it feels to dig in and dig out. It's a puzzlement to me.

Sophia and Prudence

I produced this year's TIkkun Leil Shavuot (late-night study in celebration of the Jewish festival of Shavuot) at my synagogue. I put together and co-led the festival evening service, recruited seven teachers and prepared and taught my own class on meditation, and dealt with logistics and publicity. As a reward, I arranged to have my favorite synagogian, Andrew Ramer, teach a class on writing gay midrash - which he has done on several prior occasions that I somehow couldn't manage to attend. He gave us a few pages of Biblical texts that could easily be read to have queer implications, and invited those of us who wished to write on them to do so.

I picked the following two quotes from the book of Proverbs: I, Wisdom, live with Prudence. Chochmah/Sophia/Wisdom cries aloud in the streets, raises her voice in the squares. At the head of busy streets she calls, at the entrance of the gates, in the city, she speaks out. Say to Sophia, "You are my sister."

While continuing to listen to Andrew, I wrote the following:

Sophia speaks out at the entrance of the gates in the city. She lives with Prudence, who is a therapist. Sophie participates in "Take Back the Night" marches, and corners politicians in their offices, while Prudence writes letters to the editor. They met in a consciousness-raising group in the 70s and have been together ever since.