Drive By Nation

I had lunch with some colleagues yesterday at a small French-inspired cafe which had, by all accounts, "simple, clean food."  Sounded good. The topic of conversation turned to global warming and our corupt government, etc., etc., a topic I am all too familar with, as on we ranted with self-righteous anger, periodically checking our cell phones, monitoring when we would need to leave and jump into our fossil fuel guzzling cars to get to the next thing on The Schedule. I started losing my appetite for my $6.95 chicken salad sandwich with chicken and tomatoes and lettuce and bread from who knows where or how, while the minimum wage busboys hauled our dirty dishes into the kitchen, and the parking lot filled with the cars of well-meaning middle class American white collar workers on their 30-minute lunch breaks. The sound of mindless gobbling, my own included, made me feel dizzy and afraid and sad. Something was terribly wrong with this picture.

Drive By Nation at the speed of sound

2008: American Life is just a bowl of merischino cherries?

Thich Nhat Hanh says:

"We are like sleepwalkers, not knowing what we are doing or where we are heading. Whether we can wake up or not depends on whether we can walk mindfully on our Mother Earth. The American dream is no longer possible for the Americans, much less for the rest of the developing nations of the world. We have to have another dream: the dream of brotherhood and sisterhood, of loving kindness and compassion."

But how to achieve this? It's not enough to "know" the "right" thing to do to to slow environmental degradation. We must act with body, speech, and mind. Thankfully, there are people all over the planet who are hearing the bells of mindfulness. There is a growing Slow Food movement, the Bioneers, books like by Barabara Kingsolver and other organizations using their speech and their bodies to effect change.

"It's All Alive, It's All Intelligent, It's All Connected."
http://www.bioneers.org/

We all eat. Therefore, food is central to the world’s most pressing issues surrounding public health, poverty, social justice and the environment.
http://slowfoodnation.org/

Georgia on My Mind (O'Keefe, that is) #2

Though it may be sacriligeous here in Santa Fe to say it (about as bad as admitting that I don't particularly LIKE opera, gasp!), I don't revere Georgia O'Keefe as much as I used to. There, I said it. Yes, I still adore her paintings, and I have to stuff my hands in my pockets at the Georgia O'Keefe Museum to keep from caressing her glorious canvases; but I NO LONGER WANT TO BE JUST LIKE GEORGIA.  I still want to emulate some of her qualities-- courage, vision, independence,  and, yes, eccentricity (as in not giving a damn what people may think).  But now I want something more, and that something more is a SPIRITUAL PRACTICE, something that can hopefully inform my artisitc vision but much more importantly can help me lead a meaningful life with much less suffering.

Georgia had a groping kind of 20th century spirituality based on the rugged individualistic pursuit of happiness far from the madding crowd (i.e. eccentric, artistic, romantic loner).

"I feel that a real living form is the natural result of the individual's effort to create the living thing out of the adventure of his spirit into the unknown — where it has experienced something — felt something — it has not understood — and from that experience comes the desire to make the unknown — known ... I in some way feel that everyone is born with it ... but that with most of humanity it becomes blasted..one way or another."

My new role model, Machig Labdron (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Machig_Labdr%C3%B6n) ,

an 11th century Tibetan yogini, has a much more direct path:

Loving Kindness aspect                Ferocious "cutting through" aspect

Be happy, my disciples!
That dualistic mental activity may be completely destroyed,
I have the excellent doctrines of freedom from activity.
Be happy, my disciples!
That all difficulties may be used as helpers,
I have the doctrines which show how to liberate whatever is arising in the mind.
Be happy, my disciples!
That the treasure of benefit for others may be opened,
I have the doctrines of mental training of aspiration and practice of Bodhicitta.
I open the treasure of benefit for both self and others and give it to you.
Do not feel sorrow, my children.
I will liberate all beings from the six realms of samsara.
http://www.simplybeing.co.uk/articles.php?p=The_Secret_Biography_of_Machig_Labdron,_1997
Yippee! & A la la ho!

Georgia on My Mind (O'Keefe, that is) #1

Here I am in Georgia O'Keefe country and she is surely on my mind. The landscapes she so loved are every where I look, languid as nudes, shimmering and beckoning. There is a sense of freedom in the air, of spaciousness in the wide open spaces within and without. I feel the presence of the Beloved and the Grandmother rising all around.

I resonate with Georgia. Like her, I professed my intent to be an artist at an early age. Like her, I love the Southwest. Like her, I am a seeker and a loner. My artist friend, Gilda, and I used to sit in our favorite Mexican food restaurant in Dallas drinking endless "Texas Tumblers" of iced tea, plotting our escape from Texas. Gilda wanted to run away to NYC and be like Louise Nevelsen. I wanted to run away to New Mexico and be like Georgia O'Keefe. Gilda's been in NYC for 20 years; and now here I am in Santa Fe.

"I know I cannot paint a flower. I can not paint the sun on the desert on a bright summer morning but maybe in terms of paint color I can convey to you my experience of the flower or the experience that makes the flower of significance to me at that particular time." --Georgia O'Keefe

     Georgia's Flower (Poppies, 1943)             My Flower (photograph, 2007)

Georgia was a trailblazer, a feminist role model, my hero. AND . . . I have changed. My Buddhist practice has trained me to accept change more gracefully, and to look past romantic appearances into the true nature of reality. Again and again, I have had to let go of long-cherished fantasies and happily-ever-afters to embrace the what-isness of NOW.

                                Georgia                                                         Machig Labdron

My new "role model"  is an 11th century yogini, Machig Labdron. In my next blog entry, I will elaborate.  But for now, just look at the pictures and I think the paradigm shift is evident: from 20th century rugged individualistic searching, to 21st century (via 11th century wisdom) luminous bodhisatva enlightment for the sake of all beings. A la la ho!

Myth America #5: The Illusion of Self

Perhaps the biggest myth/illusion we SUFFER from, especially in the rugged individualism culture --Yeehaw!-- of The US of A, is the sense that we are an  INDEPENDENT and SOLID "ME".  Buddhist teachings say that this grasping after the illusion of a solid and independent SELF is the root of all our suffering as human beings. It is based in ignorance of the true nature of reality. After all, each one of US started as two cells. IS THAT WHO WE ARE? Are we still the baby we once were? Are we the the WE that we were yesterday? Or even a moment ago? WE are constantly changing, shifting, never solid but dynamic and as ephemeral as the track that a flying bird leaves in the sky. We grasp at a concept of SELF that is not there. And then fearfully stare at our empty handedness, while reaching for the TV remote.

                                    ME?                               ME?

ME?

Will the real me please WAKE UP?

On the eve of the 4th of July, where residents of the US of America celebrate "INDEPENDENCE & FREEDOM" by getting drunk, making lots of noise, and grilling dead animals (as Dr. Phil says, "How's that working for ya?"), why not consider our INTER-dependence. The Dalai Lama says:

[It] is quite clear to me is that the moment you think only of yourself, the focus of your whole reality narrows, and because of this narrow focus, uncomfortable things can appear huge and bring you fear and discomfort and a sense of feeling overwhelmed by misery. The moment you think of others with a sense of caring, however, your view widens. Within that wider perspective, your own problems appear to be of little significance, and this makes a big difference.

Why not further loosen your self-clinging, and become an ANTEVASIN (Sanskrit for "one who lives on the border") like our forefathers.  "You can live on the shimmering line between your old thinking and your new understanding, always in a state of learning. This is a border that is always moving as you advance in your studies and realizations.  That mysterious forest of the unknown always stays a few feet ahead of you, so you have to travel light in order to keep following it." 
-- E. Gilbert from Eat, Pray, Love

Myth America #4: ET Phone Home

Welcome to the "High Strange" world of New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment, where bumper stickers read "Keep Santa Fe Different" and I recently saw a  green Roswell alien painted on a UHaul truck. Maybe it's the altitude here (a rarified 7,000 feet above sea level), or the vast desert expanses that serve as a blank canvas for the sensory deprived.

Maybe it's the proximity to Roswell, New Mexico, where a UFO containing aliens supposedly crashed in 1947, and the government covered it up. You decide: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roswell_UFO_incident

Maybe it's something more spiritual, if you will, this longing humans have to not be alone in the universe, to be able to reach out and touch. . . creation, eternity, god/goddess/all that is.

The Creation of Adam (Sistine Chapel; Michaelangelo)

ET Phone Home

"Being in Touch" (mural in Roswell, NM)

Coincidence????? I don't think so.

Myth America #3: The Jackalope

If we are going to delude ourselves (and we humans seem to LOVE to do that!), we should do it with magical and fun things that make us laugh, not things like WAR or SOCIAL & ECONOMIC  INJUSTICES or RACISM, SEXISIM & HOMOPHOBIA (to name just a few delusions, alas, that we humans indulge in).

"The world is full of stories about brave heroes, magical events and fantastic beings.

For thousands of years, humans everywhere —sometimes inspired by living animals or even fossils—have brought mythic creatures to life in stories, songs and works of art. Today these creatures, from the powerful dragon to the soaring phoenix, continue to thrill, terrify, entertain and inspire us.  Some symbolize danger. Others, we think, can bring us luck or joy.

Together mythic creatures give shape to humankind's greatest hopes, fears and most passionate dreams."

www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A13199484
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_legendary_creatures

Unidentified Female riding the only known Domestic Jackalope

http://www2.lafayette.edu/~hollidac/jackalope.html

So, why not put all our seemingly innate and insatiable need to wallow in delusion into my personal favorite mythical creature-- THE JACKALOPE!!  There is so much for us humans to love, admire, respect and mimic about the Western Jackalope:

*Jackalopes possess an uncanny ability to mimic human sounds. In the old West, when cowboys would gather by their campfires to sing at night, jackalopes would frequently be heard singing back, mimicking the voices of the cowboys.

*When chased, the jackalope will use its vocal abilities to elude capture. For instance, when chased by people it will call out phrases such as, "There he goes, over there," in order to throw pursuers off its track.

*The jackalope is an aggressive species, willing to use its antlers to fight. Thus, it is also sometimes called the "warrior rabbit."  To avoid injury, quickly fall to the ground, remain calm and still while humming the Roy Rogers song, "Happy Trails to You."

*The best way to catch a jackalope is to lure it with whiskey, as they have a particular fondness for this drink, as well as beanie weenies and s'mores.

*

Myth America #2: Stuckey's

"A little magic, a lot of hard work,

and an American tradition is born."

While it's not exactly known who created the very first pecan log roll, many would argue that it was Mrs. Stuckey who actually perfected it. The signature item within all Stuckey's stores and the "must have" purchase during family travel stops from the 1950's through today, the candy was first made in the candy kitchen attached to each store. In eight Stuckey's stores in the years after World War II, employees faithfully followed Mrs. Stuckey's original southern recipe. The maraschino cherry-laced nougat was hand dipped in hot, creamy melted caramel, then before cooling, freshly shelled pecan halves would be liberally sprinkled onto the caramel. Each pecan log roll was hand wrapped and delivered straight to the customer.                                                                                                       

 

Ok, I have to admit it-- I always succumb to the siren call of Stuckey's when I'm on the road. Having grown up back and forth between Texas and California in the '50s, I was practically weaned on Stuckey's sugary treats. Now, as a somewhat politically correct veteran of the vegetarian and natural food movements, I am appalled at the ingredients in a pecan log roll: sugar, of course, and corn syrup, OK. But marischino cherries and trans fats? Egads!

 

And yet, I always stop. Now I pretend that I will send the pecan log roll to my Southern friend, Kenley, who can appreciate my kitschy, road trip souvenir. More often than not, however and sadly, the pecan log never reaches Kenley! And why would I want to send a carcinogen log to a FRIEND anyway? Better to send a case to George W.

 

We are such creatures of habit, even when our current experiences and knowledge let us know in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that a Stuckey's pecan log roll will at the very least give us wicked diarrhea.  Still, my five- or eight- or even 12-year old self, yearning for that illusion of safety and the sweetness of life, longs for a Stuckey's. And my 59-year old self says yes. What can it hurt?

 

 

Myth America #1: Route 66

My road trip from Massachusetts to New Mexico eventually intersected with historic Route 66, as announced with much nostalgic-tinged ado and souvenir-fueled seduction on every highway billboard. My internal adventure-meter started buzzing, fueled by my 11-year olds half-remembered 1960s TV viewing. For those of you who don't remember, according to Wikipedia,

"Route 66 debuted on October 7, 1960. The premise was simple: earnest, privileged and sheltered Tod Stiles' (Martin Milner) father dies and leaves him a shiny new Corvette but little money; he and his buddy Buzz Murdock (George Maharis), who grew up in Hell's Kitchen, take off in the car to discover America, in search of adventure and enlightenment."

                      

        "You see, were sorta looking for a place where we really fit,"

        Buzz explained. "A kind of niche for ourselves. You know?

        But, until then, we'll just sorta keep looking and moving."

Hmmmmmm?? Somehow from my 2008 vantage point (with a lot more life experience, meditation, critical and political thinking, and just plain reality checks under my belt than in 1960), this Route 66 thing feels a lot less romantic and adventurous and a lot more like mindless (and let's face it, immature) American existential privileged bullshit.  Especially in light of the soaring price of non-renewable, ozone-depleting fossil fuel, global warming, environmental degradation, and the level of world-wide human suffering.  Sure, we all want to "sorta kinda fit" and I'm all for ENLIGHTENMENT.  But hold the Corvette, the attitude, and the ennui, please.

Rather than getting their Hollywood-glamorized "kicks on Route 66" an estimated 210,000 people migrated to California to escape the despair of the Dust Bowl during the 1930's. Certainly in the minds of those who endured that particularly painful experience, and in the view of generations of children to whom they recounted their story, Route 66 symbolized the "road to opportunity." In his famous social commentary, The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck proclaimed U. S. Highway 66 the "Mother Road." 

History & the truth can be gritty and hard to bear. But if we turn away and forget, we may become lost.

Fearless Puppy on American Road

"Actual horrors notwithstanding, life on Earth is a lot friendlier than we have been led to believe, and can be made friendlier still. Many of us regular folks have realized this and chosen to do something about it."

-- Doug "Ten" Rose (www.fearlesspuppy.org)

June 1, 2008

I serendipitously found this book in my local coffee shop the day before my dog and I headed out on our summer road trip. I felt it was an auspicious theme for our journey to adventures unknown in the wild blue yonder of New Mexico.

The actual "puppy" (my dog Shadow) is pretty fearless, the exception being loud noises like thunder.  I, despite my bravado and seeming love of "adventure", am the more chicken-hearted and prone to worrying type. I all too often allow my imagination to be influenced by the insidious negativity of the mass media that seeps in despite my best efforts. This coupled with my tendency to indulge in existential doubts (why? why me? what now?) can tip me over into the fear zone. And tip I did! What if my car breaks down? What if I have an accident and die? What am I-- nuts!-- to leave friends and a job for adventure? What if I lose my wallet? (This actually happened to me once on a road trip. The responding state trooper gave me $20 and my wallet was eventually found and returned intact!)

I was humbled by how much suffering my mind was creating!

Meanwhile, the beauty of the American landscape boldly but unassumingly unfurled itself outside my car windows. The scents of dew-laden earth, trumpeting honeysuckle and the bursting glory of spring green life flooded my senses. Beauty started winning out over fear. Pleasure and curiosity opened me to the moment. And the next. And the next. Five days and 2000 miles on the American road with no air "conditioning" to blunt the experience, no radio or music to distract the mind.  Mile after mile of mind looking at mind, moment after moment of restful alertness in the "what is-ness" instead of the "what next". I felt humbled AND overjoyed by the preciousness of this Earth and our innate ability to experience its beauty.

In Buddhist teachings, fear is foremost among the reactive emotions that produce the Three Poisons (aversion, attachment, ignorance) that are the root of our suffering. Fear can make us AVERSE to the "other" (people, experiences, emotions) and lead to separation and oppression. Fear of loss, of death, of what meaning our lives may have can lead to an addictive ATTACHMENT to material things and experiences to fill our emptiness. And fear can overwhelm us into head-in-the-sand IGNORANCE.

Meanwhile, the beauty of life on Earth unfolds moment after moment. Why not be a fearless puppy? YOU CAN CHOSE.

The Buddha said that all SUFFERING in this life as humans (as opposed to the inevitable and unavoidable PAIN of sickness, old age and death) is caused by The Three Poisons:

1)attachment (desire & greed);

2) aversion (hatred & fear);

3) and ignorance (delusion). 

Speaking from my own vast experience of creating mountains out of molehills, I can heartily agree. If I had a nickel for every time I have reacted to an ostensibly benign situation with heart-pounding rage or fear, I’d be the proverbial millionaire!

Just recently, my friend Diana gave me an example of how the mind creates suffering. While on a writing retreat in tropical Yelapa, Mexico, she was terrified every night by the loud rustling/grunting sounds just outside her palapa (thatched roof hut with no doors or walls!), convinced that a huge and probably rapid javelina was poised to rip her to shreds. Night after night she suffered. Until one night out of sleep-deprived desperation, she faced her fears, shining a flashlight at the horrific demon on the other side of her mosquito net, wanting to see in her last gasping moments on this earth the monster that would bring about her demise.  But lo! and behold! that savage demon turned out to be a sweet little ole armadillo, known far and wide in Mexico & Texas as the peace-loving clown of the under brush! Poor Diana, Yankee that she is, had never hardly heard of an armadillo, much less petted one at the State Fair of Texas petting zoo like I had growing up. Moral being, for a good night's sleep: Never let fear morph an armadillo into a javelina!

Here are some armadillo factoids I looked up in the internet:
* There is a Mayan legend that the Mayan Sun God sat two unruly gods down on a bench before all the other gods. The bench was suddenly altered into a pair of armadillos, which immediately jumped up in the air--tumbling the two disobedient gods onto their backsides in disgrace. I'm not familiar with Mayan legends, but I do know that armadillos are known for jumping vertically into the air.

* During the Great Depression, this species was known as "Hoover Hog" by down-on-their luck Americans who had to eat them instead of the "chicken in every pot" Herbert Hoover had promised as President.

* In 1995, the nine-banded Armadillo was made the State Small Mammal of Texas.
* According to ancient legend, the symbol of the armadillo means to "roll with the punches". (http://www.dilloscape.com/boa/index.html).

This last part is the one I know most about, having spent time in the late sixties at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin, Texas, where everyone rolled with the punches, and rednecks partied with hippies. The armadillo life lesson I learned in my, yes, mostly misspent youth--  for a good time, Tolerance Trumps Fear.
http://www.awhq.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shiva's_Headband- regulars at the Armadillo World Headquarters

The Potholes of Life

I'm sure you've all encountered these potholes, if not literally, then figuratively-- the black holes of loss, anger and hatred; the bottomless pits of despair; the soul -jarring obstacles on our path. Unfortunately, there is no way out but through. Especially the basic ones like sickness, old age and death, as the historical Buddha said in his first teaching on the Four Noble Truths.

____________________________________________________________________

In case you don't know or remember the Four Noble Truths, let me summarize:

1. The Truth of Suffering

Life as a human is subject to the inevitable suffering of sickness, old age and death.      Nobody gets out alive! (or unscathed!)

2. The Causes of Suffering

Besides the inevitable pain of sickness, old age and death, we humans add a lot of         mental/emotional/physical suffering  by engaging in the reactive emotions of attachment, aversion and ignorance (The Three Poisons).

3. The Cessation of Suffering is Possible

Good News! Free your reactive emotions, clear your mind and you will feel less               suffering.

4. The Path to the Cessation of Suffering

Buddhism is nothing if it is not practical and effective! The Buddha laid out an Eightfold  Path of mind trainings and behaviors/life attitudes that can greatly relieve human         suffering. (More about that later.)

____________________________________________________________________

Whereas the lesson with life's pleasures is not to get too attached (aah, maple syrup on pancakes!), the lesson with potholes is not to be too avoidant by denying or repressing these obstacles and the resulting reactive emotions they elicit.  Once again, the SLOW DOWN AND PAY ATTENTION advice applies to potholes, though in my experience with a lot of extra added squirming!  I remember being at a retreat with Pema Chodron called "Going to the Places that Scare You" and almost having a panic attack when having to meditate on one of my potholes. Here is where the importance of breathing deeply and calmly cannot be emphasized enough.

I'm practicing a lot of deep breathing and softening as I prepare to fly to Dallas tomorrow for a family conference aimed at assisting my mother into a nursing home. The image below has helped me to stay calm and centered. May it bring you joy.

May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering. May they have happiness and the causes of happiness.

A Meaning from the Season

Steaming Sugar Shack, Westhampton, MA

Here it comes -- the moral of the story. Or maybe more aptly, the morale of the story, the story being life. I've had plenty of time to think about this, huddled under my electric blanket this winter/spring in a too-cold 1800's New England parsonage, "heated" with heating oil (gasp! might as well heat with gold). I read somewhere that we humans are hard-wired to try and make meaning where there may or may not be any, possibly just to cheer ouselves up so we can keep going in a world that doesn't seem to have sense or make sense much of the time.

So, here is what I've come up with:

1) As I mentioned before, we could all benefit from the advice to SLOW DOWN & PAY ATTENTION. Basic mindfulness goes a long way towards relieving dukka, that niggling sense of the basic unsatisfactoriness of life. We can't  totally avoid pain and suffering in our lives (the Buddha's first Noble Truth) but oh do we try! Speed, multi-tasking, endless distractions, sleep, TV, consuming, etc., etc. You can start to increase your mindfulness with pleasure (it's easier than staying with pain!) -- savor the sugar shack breakfast below.

Aaahh! Traditional New England sugar shack breakfast

2) You may notice through your salivation and deep sense of satisfaction, that there are "empty calories" , "bad" foods, and "excessive" carbs and calories on the plate, not to mention the non-ecological disposable plates and plastic utensils. You can chose to let your labels and judgements poison your experience. Of course, no one in their right mind could justify making a daily habit of such fare.  But if you think of it as a rite of spring in the manner of a tantric Buddhist ritual of the acceptance of all manifestations of life, it's true and deeper meaning can resonate. Life is made up of the "good", the "bad", the "ugly"-- it just is what it is. We suffer less mentally and emotionally when we realize and accept this fact. I say this blessing before meals to remind myself:

I receive this sustenance gratefully, appreciating all the forms of life that have offered themselves for my benefit.

Savoring the what is-- not full plate, not empty plate

3) to be continued . . .

Sugar Shacks: The Reason for the Season

When settlers arrived in North American, the Native Americans indigenous to the region had been “sugaring” for many generations. Using hollowed out twigs as spigots and pitch-sealed birch bark pots as containers, Native Americans gathered sap and boiled it into syrup or maple sugar by dropping hot rocks into vats (made from hollowed out tree trunks) of maple sap. Settlers in New England quickly adopted the practice of setting up seasonal camps in the sugarbush to collect and boil sap into a source of sweetener for cooking and for trading. During the Civil War, maple sugar was the politically correct sweetener used by abolitionists as an alternative to cane sugar produced primarily with slave labor.  And during WWII, people in New England were encouraged to stretch their sugar rations by sweetening foods with maple syrup, and recipe books were printed to help housewives employ this alternative source.

Today, maple sugaring is a time-honored family tradition in New England, more of a passion than a source of seasonal income (80% of the world’s maple syrup comes from Canada). Despite changes in collection and boiling of the sap, sugaring is still a labor-intensive process that unites families and neighbors outdoors at a time when most of us don’t want to venture out of our hibernation lairs.

But venture out we do when the sugar shacks come alive with sweet clouds of evaporative steam. Many sugar shacks have family-style dining areas added on to the actual space where wood-fueled evaporative boilers reduce the sap to syrup. Winter-weary New Englanders jostle happily in lines outside sugar shacks every weekend during the season, waiting their turn to sit elbow to elbow at long picnic tables inside eating waffles and blueberry pancakes off of paper plates. There is an endless supply of freshly boiled maple syrup, coffee and conviviality, as folks come alive again, sharing tales of making it through yet another winter (the skyrocketing cost of gas and heating oil was common ground for commiseration this year) and what is poking through in their hopeful gardens.

And talk about a reversal of political correctness, many of my pc (or at least health conscious) friends who assiduously avoid sugar and excessive carbs during the rest of the year, make headlong, joyous (almost self-righteous) and numerous pilgrimages to sugar shacks, carbo-loading with the best of them, pouring on the sweet gift of the maples with impunity.  Ah, sweet mystery of life!

Of Potholes and Sugarshacks: Spring in New England


April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
--T.S. Elliot, The Wasteland

I don’t know if T.S. Elliot ever visited New England, but he certainly describes April in New England in The Wasteland.  Or December through March, for that matter.  Actually, MARCH is the cruelest month here for me. It is the culmination of New England’s SAD season, whose cold steel-gray days and interminable nights gave rise in me this year to an almost overwhelming urge to run screaming and barefoot into the night until I could collapse unconscious into a snow bank and be out of my misery. Honest to god, ask my old camp friend Kreepy Kris in California who endured my weekly tele-moan sessions and was under strict injunctions to not even mention the warm sunny California weather lest I never speak to her again.  I can’t help it—I was raised in Texas where March is the most glorious month. Ok, maybe the only glorious month in Texas! (See footnote below for a chuckle.)

Enough ranting—on to the self-professed theme of this blog, the Buddhist perspective!  Here in March/April, the very same freeze (night)/thaw (day) cycles that give hideous birth to the bone-jarring New England potholes also give rise (or flow) to some of the sweetest phenomena this side of nirvana— sugar shacks and maple syrup-- a study in contrasts quite worthy of the Buddhist teachings on aversion and desire being the root of all suffering (the third root being ignorance, ‘nuff said!).  We had a bumper crop of both potholes and maple syrup this season, providing plenty of opportunity for reflection/deflection/inspection and introspection (referencing Arlo Guthrie in Alice’s Restaurant) on my daily commute to work.  Mostly I had to SLOW DOWN and CONCENTRATE on the challenge at hand—avoiding the tricky minefield of potholes ranging from annoying to axle-breaking. This is good advice for many life circumstances but one that I quickly found myself trying to circumvent because of impatience (a classic form of avoidance quite common to North Americans). Instead of just accepting the vagaries of pothole season, I found myself trying to bend the reality of “what is” by attempting to avoid the potholes altogether, weaving crazily onto the shoulder and even into the opposite lane, risking head on collisions in my mad avoidance. Of course, every other New Englander was doing the same thing making the roadways positively treacherous, not because of the potholes but because of our collective avoidance techniques. Road rage was rampant, making it risky to employ the only sane driving solution (remember? SLOW DOWN and CONCENTRATE ) lest I become the target of invectives and New England road mudras.

But just in time, as is so often the case with the nature of impermanence being what it is, the flow returned—in this case the maple sap flow—and the heartening sight of rustic sugar shacks engulfed in billowing clouds of steam announced the sweet relief of sugar shack season. (To be continued. . . )

Footnote: An old saying oft repeated in Texas goes that God spent 6 days creating the world but wasn’t quite finished with Texas at the end of the 6th day. After resting on the seventh day, God decided rather than spend all the effort to fix Texas, he’d do the simpler thing and just create people to live there that didn’t know any different!