Shadows And Light

I just read a lovely long email by Karen Sorensen. Half way through it she writes that in her experience I am a rare schizophrenia sufferer. Some of those that she has had contact with are low functioning, have trouble using the computer or are struggling to survive in one way or another. I am what psychiatrists call a "high functioning" schizophrenia sufferer. I still have the basic symptoms like poor self care, social isolation and lingering voices, but I am alert, intelligent and creative, so I have more resources than others who suffer from the same illness. Karen reminds me not to lose sight of this basic fact.

In the past I have embraced the recovery model for schizophrenia, not wanting to acknowledge the harsh facts of life that we are not all created equal, that some are stronger, faster, smarter and more beautiful than others. That children are starving right now. That there are people dying miserable deaths after living miserable lives. Anything is possible, from the wondrous to the hellish, in this world. In the spectrum of things, I am somewhere in the middle, neither very fortunate nor very unfortunate. I still tend to think that the majority of people in the world fall into this middle category and that it is very healthy for all of us to count our blessings, such as they may be. Even people at the lower end of existence need to see and acknowledge what is good in their corner of the world. And there are good things like sunshine on a cool fall day, sipping a good cup of tea or coffee while reading, catching a child's smile directly at you while shopping in the grocery store and the list can go on and on.

The other day I was thinking about suicide after reading about a leading feminist's suicide in 2003 at the age of 77. She had said earlier in her life that she would consider suicide at a certain age after living a full and rewarding life. Her reasons for committing the act would not be mental illness or despair, but a desire to leave this world with a certain dignity instead of wasting away into old age and being a burden to her family. I might someday follow suit and do the same. I like the idea of making a decision, preparing for it and doing it, instead of living in the shadow of death. But later that day I was feeling poorly, wondering, as I do from time to time, what the point of my life was and my thoughts circled back to suicide. I lost sight of the sunshine, the tea and the child's smile. I felt stuck in my ever present isolation from other human beings, stuck in my aimlessness; I was getting sick and tired of myself. And yet still I reached for my tape recorder to talk to myself or talk myself out of my depression. What could I, as my only best friend, do to alleviate my discomfort but talk to myself and then listen back to what I had said that day only hours beforehand. It wasn't much, but it was something.

I don't really want to die just yet. My recent commitment to writing (five weeks and counting) is a daily affirmation of my willingness to keep trying. The feminist who killed herself was 77 and I am only 48. The feminist had lived a full and rewarding life as a writer, teacher, mother and wife. My rewards have been more modest; I still believe that my recovery can grow deeper roots, that I can learn to work more consistently and that that work can bear fruit. So I plod along each day writing at least 500 words whether I'm in the mood or not. The pile of books that I'm reading is growing around me as I awkwardly reach for self-expression. Right now I'm thinking of the song "We Shall Overcome" not in terms of the civil rights movement, but in terms of my own struggle to overcome lethargy and silence. I want to use my high functioning skills to speak out for myself, maybe speak out for others as well who can't speak so well for themselves. My fantasy, like so many writer's fantasies, is to publish a book that reaches people's hearts and minds. I want my story to matter to more than just me.

The heart of all good stories, factual and fictional, is conflict and resolution. I resist the darker side of things. I want conflict to go away. I want recovery to be possible for everyone. I want us all to cease suffering and be forever happy in a nirvana-like existence. I'm like a little girl dreaming of a utopia. But most utopian stories don't make for good reading because that's not what we're experiencing in the real world. Instead we keep coming up against road blocks and detours and accidents. We keep losing our way and our balance...and then we get back on track due to our own resourcefulness or by luck or the grace of some enigmatic higher power. Conflict and resolution. Conflict is fraught with subtle meaning, shadows and light and we never stop yearning for the resolution of our temporary problems. But sure as one wave follows another, conflict returns. We can't just rest in the space between the waves. Life keeps pushing forward and the past keeps receding behind us.

The human condition is challenging for all of us, no exceptions. We can either step up to the challenge and live or make a final exit and die. Most of us step up whether we want to or not. We take comfort in what comforts are available to us. Maybe we won't all recover, but nothing should stop us from trying to improve our lot in life as best we can. And those that can, through their honesty and example, should help others along the way. For now, I'm going to keep trying, that's all any of us can do.

A Response To Isolation

I am having trouble staying in touch with new and old friends. One of them called me up and left an endearing message, another wrote me a great long email and others I just want to interact with again because they, too, are sensitive, creative and interesting people. Instead I choose to remain isolated. I do write my minimum of 1,000 words a day and that does takes precedence over writing to my friends, but I also think I use it as an excuse to stay pulled into myself. Is this strange social detachment, which I have gone in and partially out of for years, even before I became acutely ill with psychosis, the natural outcome of suffering from a "brain disease"? Is it not a choice, but my biological/spiritual fate? Will it only become a more pronounced way of life for me as I age? Except for contact with my brother, which I truly enjoy, and occasionally with my sometime friend Richard, I am a recluse, hermit and loner, but up till now I have been sociable online, in my blog and with online friends or on message boards. I used to spend five hours or more at the computer communicating with others, valuing their lives and contributing my thoughts and good wishes. Now I use the computer for word processing and research more and more and for communicating with others less and less.

The question--is it a stubborn will or is it a biologically supported fate, is an unnerving one. If I am being stubborn, I find that rather perverse and if it is biological, I find that scary. Perhaps it is a temporary dip into depression, which I have been going in and out of for years. I hope that's the explanation, but I really don't know.

And yet, I write. I'm writing here like a scientist at the the North Pole with a desire to share my discoveries and with a need to affirm my value as a solitary human being. Perhaps I'm calling out for help or maybe to leave a small mark that communicates, yes, I was here at such and such a time and place, like those ancient hand prints on cave walls. That a handful of people read my blog (sparse though it has been lately) is another reason I am motivated to write and post what I write. I want to appeal to your value as a solitary human being because I do believe that we are the only ones living our lives. No matter how close we get to other people we all return to a solitary space within ourselves. And in that space, we take the time to reflect on our days and nights. If we're fortunate, we learn something and pass it on to someone else.

I still have this urge to pass on something, to join the human circle or why write at all? I'm fostering this activity which is my writing process, so that I don't get sucked up into a void. I read for the same reason. I get to know other writers through what they write. I learn from them; it eases my solitary confinement and then I get inspired to write my version of a corner of my life. I want to stop blaming myself for being odd, as if my oddness were a bizarre willful choice. It's just possible that suffering from schizophrenia is my lot in life, a lot I can't change, the way a zebra can't change its stripes. I am not just my illness, but still my illness does set up some of my limitations and thereby defines me. I know there are those that disagree, who say "my illness does not define me," but I haven't found that to be the case. The illness is a handicap that I can live with, which doesn't mean I can't aspire and work to excel in whatever capacity is available to me. I have a need to be pragmatic more than I have a need to be delusional and that is an accomplishment aided by psychiatric drugs, therapy and my own dogged persistence of living day by day and night by night.

Something I do want to say to those of you who are my online friends, I appreciate you, your life and struggles, though I may not be able to tell you this as often as I'd like. You all give me hope with your intelligent creativity and general kindness that humans are not meant to be a lost species that winds up destroying itself. You reinforce for me the idea that we are all basically good (Buddha Nature). And so I want to thank you for reading what I write and for all the times that you have responded with words of wisdom and support.

An Award And An Offer

As you can see I just got an award for my blog. Here is a list of the other nine winners:

Schizophrenia - A Carer's Journal

http://mindriddles.blogspot.com/

Overcoming Schizophrenia

http://overcomingschizophrenia.blogspot.com/

Schizophrenia Blog

http://www.schizophreniablog.org/

Gaining Insight

http://gaining-insight.blogspot.com/

Hope Is Real!

http://hopeisreal.blogspot.com/

Suicidal No More

http://www.suicidalnomore.com/

Living With An Invisible Disability

http://livingwithaninvisibledisablity.blogspot.com/

Schizophrenia Society of Nova Scotia

http://ssnsc.blogspot.com/

Tony's Schizophrenia Corner

http://tonysschizophreniacorner.blogspot.com/

So congratulations to me and the other blog winners for doing a good job. I definitely appreciate it. It makes me think that maybe I'm doing more good with this blog than I realize. I also got a short email from someone "working on behalf" of the Janssen pharmaceutical company. Here's the email:

Dear Kate:

We had the opportunity to read your blog and learn more about your experiences as a person living with schizophrenia and all of the great work you do in the mental illness community. That is why we are reaching out to you.

Our company, Barsamian Communication, is currently working on behalf of Janssen, to develop a Mental Health Community Council comprised of people living with schizophrenia, caregivers and advocates to share their experiences and help guide the development of educational and marketing materials.

I would love to set up a time to speak to tell you more about the Council and see if you might be interested in participating in our next meeting in September.

Please let me know.

Best,

Leah

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So I was wondering what some of you think about this offer. I've emailed Leah to say that I am not very good with talking on the phone, but would be happy if she emailed me more information. So I have to wait and find out if that is okay.

I'm of two minds about volunteering to work for a big pharmaceutical company, even just minimally. On the one hand a company like Janssen is such a powerful business company that I am suspicious of its motivations. On the other hand opening the lines of communication between those that suffer from schizophrenia, either directly or indirectly by being a caregiver, and those that make a product that treats it, is potentially very commendable. Because the Janssen company is so wealthy they have the potential to really help those in need. My first thought is that they could organize support groups in very rural areas, such as mine, to give people the opportunity to receive free mental health support. The support groups that I know of all encourage medication compliance, as do I, and that could benefit the Janssen company, but more than that it would benefit the people who have the least access to healthcare, but who desperately need the community support with or without the use of psychiatric drugs. It still amazes me that no one has latched onto the incredible potential of support groups. They are low cost, low maintenance and they allow people to get help and give them a place to organize themselves.

If a company like Janssen did sponsor and organize support groups in rural areas throughout the U.S. there would have to be restrictions put on them. Community service above business promotion. It would be good public relations for them and that should be enough. I do not know if it can be done legally, but it is worth looking into it. Anyway, though I am somewhat skeptical, I would love the opportunity to help those in need.

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On the home front, I've been writing nearly daily for over two weeks. My goal is to write at least 1,000 words a day, or close to that. The idea of writing daily for those who do write and aspire to get published is an old idea, but a generally good one. I recently got the idea from several writers who have written popular books on writing. Carolyn See in her book Making A Literary Life: Advice for Writers and Other Dreamers, pushes her formula which is write 1,000 words 5 days a week for the rest of your life. Stephen King in his book On Writing: A Memoir Of The Craft, pushes for writing 2,000 words every day, but then he says he can get through the first draft of a novel in three months. Julia Cameron in her book The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path To Higher Creativity, urges that writers write three pages in stream of consciousness style every morning.

I finished reading the King book yesterday. I had gotten the book for my brother one Christmas because he expressed an interest in writing, but I had never read it. Then I read in Karen Sorensen's "Dignify Me" blog that she was reading the book, so on impulse I bought it for myself as a gift instead of going through the public library system as I did with the other books I mentioned. Mr King starts the book out as a memoir of parts of his childhood and youth up until he became a success with his novel Carrie. I enjoyed that part of the book, especially the author's honesty and sense of humor. There were laugh out loud bits there mixed in with more serious descriptions of his working class mother and his working class youth. I learned later on in the book that it was around this point in his writing and his life that he got run over by someone driving a van and nearly lost his ability to walk. He almost gave up on writing the book, but then found that it was a kind of mental therapy that went along well with his physical therapy and he finished the book. The rest of the book was good too, but not as fun to read. He goes into the nuts and bolts of writing, or at least those aspects of writing practice that he came to stand by, though there is certainly still a lot of honesty and humor in the remaining parts as well.

It's good to be reading and writing regularly again. Many of the writers who write books on the craft of writing obviously write from their experience, hence these books are memoirs. Lately, that is the kind of book that I have been drawn into reading, rather than to straight out memoirs. I like reading about how writers came to become writers. I may not follow all of their advice, but it does stimulate me to keep trying.

Mammogram Results

A month ago I went to have a mammogram done. A week and a half later I got a short form letter from the hospital saying that they had found something on my mammogram. There was a sentence saying that most of these findings turn out to be benign, but, of course, I began to worry. The news came just before my brother and I had to leave for the Grassroots festival for four days. I quickly made an appointment for the end of the following week to have another closer mammogram done. Soon after we got to the festival I told my brother about the letter. My parents would be arriving soon for a 12 day visit and I would have to tell them too. My brother tried to reassure me that it was unlikely that I had cancer because we have no history of breast cancer in our family, but I knew it was wiser to stay open to the possibility in case he was wrong. I wanted to be prepared for the worst. I didn't want to take my life and health for granted.

Despite the shadow from my news, we had a decent time at the festival, no real problems, just a bit of thunder, lightning and rain. I can't remember the first time we went to this festival, but it must have been within the last decade. We try to make it an annual event since neither of us get to hear live music very often. For the last couple of years we've stayed in a mildly run down motel that's maybe 15 minutes drive away from the festival. It's good to be at the festival, out of doors and around people listening to music and eating good food, but it is also nice to go back to the motel and withdraw from all that, go back to home base.

Off and on throughout our trip I would consider the possibility that I did have cancer and wonder how long I would have to live. My breasts did not feel lumpy, but my left breast did seem to me to ache more than usual. I began to pray that if I did have cancer, that it would be in the very early stages of it because then I might have a chance to recover from it. I couldn't quite get myself to imagine what it would be like to have a breast or both breasts removed surgically. I'm not very fond of my breasts since I put on all this weight due to taking some of the anti-psychotic medications, but that didn't mean I wanted to lose them either. Before I got really ill in 1998, I had thought that I would live to a ripe old age because both of my grandmothers had lived to be 94. After I began to recover from my illness I knew anything could happen and stopped taking my life for granted. The hard fact is that many people who suffer from schizophrenia die a good 25 years before the general population.

I think the reason many mentally ill people die so young is 1) due to suicide and 2) due to not taking care of oneself by going to doctors during the early stages of problems. I hadn't had a mammogram done since 2007 when I should have been having it done once a year. Presently I don't have a gynecologist and haven't had a Pap smear done sine 2007 too. I'm at an age when I have to be more responsible about going to doctors and resist my urge to put it off for another day, week...year.

Since I became psychotically ill, a part of me has become tired of life and willing to let go of it. Contemplating my early death seemed possible and if I had to die, I wished to die well, with some dignity. I needed some time to prepare. Buddhist are very much into contemplating death and preparing for its eventuality. I have several audiobooks on it, but never got very far in listening to them. I still have a touch of a superstitious mind and believe that if I think about death, somehow I will bring it closer to me and die. I'm pretty sure that's another illusion and the only way to deflate an illusion is to pop it by doing what you are afraid of doing. This attitude didn't get me to listen to those audiobooks, but it did get me to face death more squarely and consider it.

The part of me that wanted to live prayed that I didn't have cancer. I haven't accomplished much in my life except surviving domestic violence and acute psychosis. I still wanted to write at least one book, a book that might include some of my artwork, possibly a CD of a few of my songs. All that required time, persistence and discipline along with some talent, all of which I wasn't sure that I had. Still I prayed.

My parents arrived two days after we got home from the festival. I had done some cleaning, but because I was worrying much of the upstairs was not ultimately cleaned. The downstairs, where they would be staying, was in good shape. They had a bedroom with two twin beds, an eating/studio room, a laundry/kitchenette room and a very small bathroom. I had also had a new phone/computer jack installed in the bedroom, so that my father could have free use of my computer while he was here. This meant that I did not have the use of my computer, but I found that I got along without it while they were here.

After I told my parents about the mammogram result, they both insisted on coming with me when I had the second, closer mammogram done. And so we went. They waited in the waiting room and I was taken by the same woman who did my mammogram the last time to the same mammogram machine. She said this time it might hurt a little bit more, which it did. She only took an image of my right breast because the left breast (which I had been worrying about) was all clear. A few moments after that she came back with the results: no cancer. Not just no cancer, but no benign lump either. Nothing to do except thank the Higher Power for the thumbs up sign. The woman then went on to talk to me for a bit saying that she didn't like bringing women back in, but that if she had any doubt due to what was on the mammogram, she didn't want to wait for a year to go by before another test was taken. She then showed me the before and after picture. On the before picture was an area that was lighter than the rest of the image indicating something, but the after picture showed no such indication. She said the first image was just a skin fold and that the tighter second image showed this. The main thing was, I was okay. I thanked her and told her she had a tough job. I was grateful to her for being so thorough, despite the worry it put me through. I knew she deserved a lot of credit for being willing to do this work for other women's health. She agreed that it was a hard job; I knew she needed to hear what I had said to her and hoped that it made her feel good. All I knew was that I was feeling pretty good myself. When I saw my parents in the waiting room I made the double thumbs up sign and smiled.

And so we were all very relieved. My parents went on to stay for another week and a half. We went to two plays, two movies, a historic Native American site and out to several good restaurants including two Thai and two Indian restaurants. I had to do a lot of driving, but it was worth it because my family had such a good time.

So no breast cancer and another chance to get back on track. All throughout this I did not meditate. Time to return to it. Time also to return to my writing. One of my old friends who I found on Facebook encouraged me to continue with my memoir, so did my mother. Just having them give me encouragement is all I need to renew my commitment.

Wake Heart Be Open

I made up these cards to help me to meditate. On the first card -- Wake Heart Be Open -- are words chosen by the head teacher, Lama Shenpen Hookham, from the online Buddhist course I am taking. The longer version is "Wake up. Connect to your heart. Be fully present. Open out into space." Lama Shenpen places a lot of emphasis on the daily practice of meditation, gradually extending it from sitting to include walking and then to weave it into daily activities. I'm at the very beginning still. I sit, albeit restlessly, for around 45 minutes a day. The bare minimum is 15 minutes. The meditation instructions we are following are for Shamata Vipashyana or "Calm" "Insight" meditation. It's insight that made the Buddha wake up, but first he practiced calming himself. But I am not calm. I have moments of calmness, but they get repeatedly swept away. So I continue the practice and wait. I have a resistance to sitting cross legged on the floor because my back gets uncomfortable and yet, ultimately, that's the sitting pose I would like to adopt. Years ago I wouldn't meditate until after I did at least 45 minutes of yoga and that worked fine because the yoga stretched out the kinks in my body and settled me down through my breath.

I'm trying to understand what Buddhist practitioners mean by "waking up" to the present moment. I know it does not mean being lost in thoughts. How much time am I lost in thoughts each day? Quite a lot and some of that thought is negative and leads to anxiety and/or depression. Then other thoughts are pleasant or helpful. Not all thought is bad and must be gotten rid of, but one point is that there is so much more to life than thinking. The only way to see that is to rest in non thinking moments. What's going on when you are not thinking? Unadulterated awareness. If you are fortunate, you have all your senses, alive and well and they sharpen your awareness.

If you've ever wondered if an animal can be considered as intelligent as a human animal, feel your own non thinking awareness. There is great intelligence in basic awareness. It's not the thoughts that make you smart. I saw a bear outside my house very, very early one morning. There was just enough light to make out her form. I was standing on my couch looking out the window and the bear noticed me right away. I could tell by her body language. Her body language even in such little light was so expressive and I had no doubt that the bear was smart and very vital. I recognized something in her that was in me too -- alert awareness. Also I was a little frightened and that made me even more aware.

Above my computer, I have tacked on the wall a small abstract painting I made in art school, one of my favorites. I put it there so that I can look up and see it during the moments when I'm resting from reading or writing at the computer. It talks to me, but not in words or thoughts and I just like looking at it. There's a medium sized rectangular window above the painting and I get a similar sensation of satisfaction when I look out at the sky and the tops of the trees. I don't think, I just look, listen, smell, feel. I am awake in those moments, the way a cat or a dog (or a bear) is awake. How am I different from the cat or dog? I respond to visual symbolism: words/books, photographs, paintings, films -- the world of illusions. My sign telling me to "Wake Up" is also an illusion. I imagine that it is telling me to be more alert, but it is not telling me anything, it is a piece of paper with marks on it that I have interpreted and given meaning to. I am, in effect, using the illusion to my advantage.

The "Wake Up" sign has no meaning unless I attach the words to memories of being awake. I need to make a strong association. This is also thinking, but of the useful kind. It's all about remembering because for so much of the time we are forgetting what we've learned. I know I am lost in forgetfulness too much of the time and so I study and then spend that 45 minutes just existing and while I'm existing I have thoughts and when I get lost in thoughts there comes a point where I realize it and wake up and sort of shock the thoughts into silence and say "thinking". I'm grateful lately when I do get to that point because usually I am too restless. Honestly, I want to get lost in thoughts, wake up and then say "thinking" so that I can identify that sense of space I feel when I label the thoughts and let them go. I want to know that it is okay to let go of elaborate worrisome thinking. I need to give myself permission to stop taking it all (and a lot of it is purely imaginary) so seriously.

How many of us stop for a half an hour and do nothing once a day? No computer, no TV, no books, no cooking, no cleaning, no writing, no talking etc... just sitting in a chair (or cross legged on the floor). When I first meditated the instruction was to close my eyes, but in Lama Shenpen's Tibetan tradition you are supposed to keep your eyes open. I both like this and find it distracting. I want to look around. I see a cat (and I have many cats!) and I want to pet the cat(s). I see my mug of tea and I want to drink the tea. I want to move my head and study the room. I am awake, aware and not thinking very much, but I am restless and unfocused. I know I need an anchor and the anchor I need is placing bare attention on my breathing. I think it will prove to be more important than my "Wake Up" and "Wake Heart Be Open" signs. Lama Shenpen made the point that her instructions are just suggestions, gentle guidance. The trick is knowing when to use what technique. There's a lot to test out in Buddhism.

"Wake up" and "Be fully present" are closely related, but not the same. "Wake up" is the main instruction for all of Buddhism. "Be fully present" is added emphasis which lets you sit up straighter and with more dignity. "Connect to your heart" is harder for me to understand but, according to the Lama, very important. I know she doesn't mean it in any sappy way. I think she means tap into your own tender sensitivity. The "heart" of Tibetan Buddhism is compassion, which is another word I have to reflect on. Before you can have compassion for yourself and others, you have to connect to your heart. You have to feel something. Being intelligent, aware and awake is not enough. The heart run deeps into everything that is alive. It shouldn't be ignored. My heart is getting more flexible, but for a long time it was numb. It's easy to ignore a numb heart, but it is not wise.

"Open out into space" is also hard for me to understand, but I do associate it with the heart, opening the heart and letting go. But how do you open a heart and how do you let go? Flower buds open, doors and windows open, hands open--how does a heart open? Through kindness. What is kindness? It's a special sensitivity to the needs of yourself and others. When you do something nice for someone you open up something in yourself that was shut down, you offer your good intentions. There's a lot of talk with Buddhists about space. What's so important about space? Space is forgiving, all embracing, calming and space is everywhere. Even in an atom there is space. In order to open you need space.

"Wake Heart Be Open" is a meditation puzzle. You can move each word around, make different phrases, turn it into a mantra, add new words. But they are still just the finger pointing at the moon. The real prize (the moon) is in understanding, intuition and insight that comes from playful meditation. I need to remember that when I begin to get overly serious. I also find labeling my thoughts "thinking" sometimes makes me smile and lighten up. So does the Tibetan Lojong slogan "Always maintain only a joyful mind."

NYC Visit

So I went to New York City a week and a half ago to meet up with my parents for a four night stay. About an hour or so before I arrived at 35th Street and Park Ave, my 83 year old father had tripped and fallen in the street while he and my mother were shopping for dinner and supplies. At the time he refused to go to the hospital and managed to walk back to the Unitarian church apartment we were renting out. He was waiting outside for me and quickly told me what had happened and showed me his wounds: a scraped left knee and a swollen and bruised left hand. I told him he should go to the hospital, but he refused, that is until the next day when his knee felt strange and he was having difficulty walking. He called a friend who lives in Manhattan and she suggested that he go to a hospital on East 17th Street. It was very fortunate we went there because we didn't have to wait. My father had come well prepared with a list of all his medications; he also filled out many forms with no problem. The nurse looked at his wounds and asked him specific questions, then a young doctor did the same and then my father had x-rays taken of his hand and knee. We got the results quickly--no broken bones, which surprised the doctor because my father's hand was quite swollen. A splint was put on his knee and one on his hand and wrist and he was sent home, told to rest, to keep his hand elevated and put ice on it as well.

My father decided that he would remain in the apartment for the duration of the trip, but we soon found out that he was having a lot of trouble getting in and out of chairs. So my mother and I stayed close to him. I took on the responsibility of going shopping. We were located in the Murray Hill section of New York and there were plenty of delis and drug stores and a supermarket. One night, after setting my father up in a chair in front of the TV, my mother and I went out to a nearby Korean restaurant and had dinner, which was very pleasant. The other nights we had sandwiches or a pizza and lots of tea. The day before we were to leave my parents urged me to go out for a few hours, so I took a 5th avenue bus down to 8th street in Greenwich Village. I had found a Thai restaurant on Bleeker Street that I wanted to try as well as walk around and do a little shopping. I didn't want to buy too much because I had packed too much in my duffle bag to begin with.

So, no going to museums and art galleries and no New York City Ballet performance this time. You would think that I would have been unhappy or depressed with the situation, but I wasn't. I see my parents so infrequently that getting to be around them and to actually be helpful to them satisfied me for the most part, though I certainly wasn't happy that my father had fallen and hurt himself. I think we were all relieved that he didn't need to be hospitalized because he had no broken bones or internal injuries. When things go wrong, count your blessings first. I was pleased with myself that I didn't back down from the challenge of the situation, which I probably would have several years earlier when I had been sicker. I enjoyed being in the small apartment with my parents and I enjoyed going outside and doing the shopping for us all. The City had visual appeal, skyscrapers and old brownstones, wide avenues and the delis and restaurants, but mostly the visual appeal was in all the people rushing past me, young and old, multi-cultural, a great and dynamic diversity. I still liked the City and felt the privilege of staying in an apartment so centrally located. I imagined what it would be like to live there, but knew that I wouldn't. In fact, this was the first time I went to the City where I wasn't dreaming of being back in it again, though I still wish sometimes that I lived only an hour and a half away from it. I had looked at a house in 1988-89 in Saugerties, New York which is roughly near Woodstock, New York (which is not THE Woodstock of the late 1960s festival, but close enough). It was a good location, but the road was too isolated and I knew not a soul around there. Not that I know so many people where I live now, but I do have my brother and that makes all the difference.

I did not meditate while I was away. I had thought I would meditate on the bus, but I didn't feel comfortable and then after getting together with my parents and after learning of my father's fall, I spent much of my time being attentive and supportive towards them. I found I also couldn't settle into reading my Buddhist books. I became easily distracted. I was disappointed in myself for not even trying to meditate. I guess it was too soon in my practice because I had only been meditating for just a month and under mostly non stressful circumstances i.e. me quietly at home reading and meditating. Some Buddhists say "The path IS the goal." And if the path is the goal then one day when I'm in a stressful situation I will remember to approach it through meditation.

I've been home for a week, slowly trying to get back into a routine of meditation and reading. I have not contacted anyone online except for my parents and uncle. This is a typical pattern for me. After I come back from a trip, I keep to myself for a week or so. And this will happen several times more this summer. I go with my brother each year for four days and three nights to a music festival in Ithaca New York called the Grassroots Festival. That's coming up in a month and then my parents will be staying at my house for a week and a half a few days after we get home from the festival. I have a little over a month to get this house in order. If I start now and do a little work each day, I should be in good shape in late July. A couple of days ago I listened to an audio program called Organizing From The Inside Out by Julie Morgenstern. I wrote down some of her ideas, such as, to analyze and take stock of your situation and then create a plan of action, a realistic schedule and then get to sorting and arranging.

Well, maybe I'm a little disappointed about the trip to NYC, but I did learn that I can make the trip to the City, that I can handle myself better than I realize. That's good to know. I also learned that I need more overall meditation practice and to take it slowly.

Meaning & Purpose

Karen in her blog post "Suicidal" writes of her unhappiness, a unhappiness that led her to think again of suicide. Further on in the entry she writes about how her therapist said that from the first day he met her he knew her life had meaning and purpose. She questioned the validity of that statement when she learned that he felt the same thing for all of his patients. After I read the entry, I asked myself if I thought my life had meaning and purpose. In response I felt unsure and lost. I thought, certainly my life must have some meaning, but as to purpose I could only get the image of me scrambling after different pastimes, shifting from one to another. Then I thought of what I was learning about Buddha Nature, that all of our essential natures are like a Buddha, good, free, wise and pure. Certainly amidst all of that we can all say with confidence that our lives have meaning and purpose. Enlightenment is available for everyone, there are no exceptions. Karen's therapist is just voicing that belief to her. And when I think of Karen, who I have had the pleasure of corresponding with, I think, of course she has meaning and purpose. She is a vital, sensitive, intelligent woman and she offers a lot to whomever she meets.

I'm glad she brought up this idea of meaning and purpose because lately I have been getting anxious, mainly about going to NYC to visit with my parents. When I get anxious I no longer believe my life has meaning and purpose, it just has fears and worries. But I've been working with it by doing meditation, which includes just sitting with the discomfort and staying open. When I do that with a certain amount of patience, I feel a shift into being mode. I sit with what is without trying to change it and when I accept where I'm at there is a further shift into a sense of release. At that point I am awake and aware, but I'm not thinking, I'm just being like a small animal in the wild listening to the sounds of the night. The thoughts do return, as they always will, but the point is to extend the gaps between thoughts and rest there. We tend to ignore the preciousness of those gaps. Within the gaps there is no right and wrong, no pressure. You are awake, you are aware, but there are no words and no need of words. Words are tools to express our connectedness with the world around us, but they are not an end in themselves. What is the end (and the beginning) is in those wordless gaps, the experience itself, life. So often we are lost in our imaginations, our hopes and fears and yet we can tap into the quiet of the present moment at any time. Even now, try it, just stop reading and look up and out; look and don't think, feel what it feels like. You don't have to be thinking, talking, writing to be acutely aware. You can just be, anytime you choose.

The truth is that we generally don't choose to just be and when we do just exist, we feel guilty that we're not doing something. And the chatter in our heads tell us it is so important to engage in thinking and worrying, when it is an illusion. It is self hating to say that we are not meaningful when we are just sitting or walking and meditating. To exist is to have meaning because our awareness and our minds and our bodies are quite miraculous. When I look around my living room or look outside at the countryside, I feel the meaning everywhere, in the walls and books and cats and trees and birds and insects. And what is everywhere is also in me, we are all made of the same stuff. Buddha Nature.

It is clear to me there is meaning but purpose is a more elusive concept. What's the purpose in just existing? And yet, I know there is a purpose. If you've ever loved someone who became very sick or crippled, you know that that person had great meaning and that their just existing was purpose enough. Each of us has a spirit, whether you are religious or not. We interact with people's spirits daily. Most of my friends are online friends, but I have no doubt that I am interacting with a living spirit every time I exchange an email. Precious stuff. So it is worthwhile just to exist, the hard part is convincing yourself of this. But every time you just sit there and let go into a meditative state, you affirm that idea, that it is okay to let go and be. To be is to be full of meaning, to be full of meaning is to have a purpose.

Buddhists would say that the purpose of life is to cultivate lovingkindness and compassion for all sentient beings. First you must start with yourself and then extend it farther and farther out. I hold back, afraid to let my heart get its feeling back, afraid of being hurt, but in holding back I am hurt already. The healing comes from letting go and acknowledging that we are not alone; we're all interconnected. I have trouble with this as well, especially since I live alone and spend much of my time at home. It's the sound of the cars passing by my house that remind me that I am not alone on earth. Years ago I began a praying practice. I pray for the people in the cars each time they pass by. I say to myself: "May you be well, safe, healthy, happy, useful. May you find happiness and the root of happiness." Without even knowing it I have prayed many times for my neighbors (most of whom I have never met and don't know), my teachers, the police, community members all. I have thought, too, that I have prayed for violent people and people who are being abused or people who are addicted, all just casually passing by my house. I wish everyone well equally and it is a pleasure to do that. Goodwill is very potent as well as joyful. I feel better when I send out good wishes to loved ones and strangers alike.

The goodwill I have to have now, is towards myself when I get anxious. I've been experimenting with smiling when I'm feeling particularly worried or negative. I got this idea from the Vietnamese monk, Thich Nhat Hanh who often encourages people to include smiling as part of their meditation/mindfulness practice. I also say aloud the Lojong slogans: "Always maintain only a joyful mind." and "Be grateful to everyone." It's quite a challenge to quietly smile to yourself when you are not feeling well, but it also opens you up, adds a touch of relaxation to a tense situation. One of the points is to not do things the way you always do them. Another slogan is "Don't be so predictable." So smile when you want to frown and if you tend to feel depressed sitting in one spot, choose another. Change of attitude, change of location, change of activity or change into non activity. I've heard that the definition of insanity is doing things the way you always do them and expecting different results. And it is hard to change. I know I cling to my comfort spots even when they are not so comfortable. That's why small changes are the best to start with like including smiling in my life more and more.

Karma & Buddha Nature

“The true religious person...accepts the truth that he or she is responsible for the pleasurable and unpleasurable feelings he experiences, these being the fruits of his own karma [actions].” The Dalai Lama

“Drive all blame into one.” Lojong Slogan

What if you really were responsible for your own pleasure and pain because of karma or for whatever reason? Stop and consider this a moment. I have been in deep psychological pain. I have been suicidal. I have been hit, slapped, spit on and strangled. I have had my house trashed and my love scorned. But what if it was no-one’s fault or responsibility but my own? I have thought about this, but only for a little while, and what I feel is relief...relief and compassion for myself.

As I turn more towards being meditative, I am seeing that I get in my own way. Actually I have noticed that for a while, especially since experiencing psychosis. I’ve always had a lot of choice available in my life and yet time and again I have turned away from the healthy one. If that is because of me and not due to anyone else, then I still have the ability to change. We all have this ability to change. The 12 Step Serenity Prayer goes “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.” There are things, situations and people we can’t change, but that doesn’t extend to ourselves. It’s not easy to change our own habitual reactive patterns, but I believe it is possible. In the same way we taught ourselves how to be self-defeating, through regular repetition and persistence, we can re-teach ourselves in a new way how to be self-healing. This is what recovering addicts are doing all over the world, but it applies to everyone.

The key word in the quote above by the Dalai Lama is “responsible”. Once you accept responsibility for your life and stop blaming external circumstances or people for your particular problems, you give yourself a sense of freedom. You stop seeing yourself as a victim. If you do as the Lojong Slogan instructs and drive all blame into yourself, you put the negative practice of blaming others to a stop, you detach from that painful, sticky connection to others and stand free and clear. You face the music, you take responsibility.

If you are going to take responsibility, you have to have a certain faith in yourself. Buddhism offers the belief in “Buddha Nature”. Buddha Nature says that our essential nature and everyone’s essential natures are solidly good. Buddha Nature is like the river, the air, the earth of life. It’s a part of everyones psychological makeup. Though, on some level, I think I have always suspected this, that there is a lot of goodness in people, it is only now that I have been passing people on the street saying to myself “And you have Buddha Nature. And you....” What that does is subtle, but effective; it softens me, relaxes me and makes me smile. The real test is to apply it to people that you feel conflicted about. You may say it through gritted teeth--“And you have Buddha Nature.”--but it acts as a reminder to loosen your grasp on your aversion and let some basic acceptance enter into your heart.

So Buddhism teaches that the basis of everything is good, so why is there so much conflict and suffering in the world? One reason is that humans are blinded by instinct and appearances. We forget that we are animals, most of us are domesticated, some rather wild. The wild ones amongst us make the rest of us nervous. We are often assessing the threat level when we walk out the door. We are fine trigger sensitive to behavior. The fight or flight response in us is alive and well. I think a lot of people take this sensitivity for granted to the point where we no longer are aware of why we are moving towards or away from people or why we feel attraction or aversion.

Taking things for granted is something you train not to do as a Buddhist. Taking things for granted means staying asleep, reacting automatically, thoughtlessly. No wonder we feel badly and get into conflict with others; we are thinking, speaking and acting blindly. And being blind, how do we tell when it is day and when it is night? When are we really awake?

Essential Buddha Nature is always present, steady. The image that’s often given is that of the sun. Our habitual, reactive natures are like all kinds of bad weather that obscure the sun. Too often we identify ourselves with the weather, ignoring the bigger picture. It’s not just acutely psychotic individuals who are deluded, it’s nearly everyone. We have a mistaken view of “reality”, but because so many people have the same view people think this is just the way it is and stay stuck inside an illusory cycle and remain sleeping. What can shake a person out of his or her slumber? Most often pain. And that’s why pain is useful and informative. Driving all blame into yourself sounds painful and cultivating compassion is also painful, but at least you are looking at the problem head on. Actually seeing the problem leads you right back to Buddha Nature, back to a base that is all positive, a base that gives sustenance to work through the problem.

Note: I am a beginning student of Buddhism, though I’ve had contact with it off and on over the years, and this blog entry (and probably those to come) makes definite assertions that I haven’t yet fully tested. I mainly want to get you (and me) reflecting in order to tap into insight on our human condition. Please feel free to question my conclusions.

Wake Up Heart

Another week has gone by and I have continued with the meditation practice. I've also done a little walking meditation and some daily awareness/mindfulness practice. Those three meditation practices--sitting, walking and daily awareness--make up the core of the Buddhist course. To do all three of those practices is a daily/nightly discipline and I am slowly drawing them into my life. I never realized how important meditation practice is until now. Before it has been either take it or leave it (usually leave it...), but now I have to take it in order to do the coursework for this year long class (though I've heard some people take it over two to three years time). The question is will I commit to this lifestyle change or will I do it for a month or two and then stop? Right now, I have no idea, I can only approach it day by day, but I do find reading books on Buddhism and Buddhist practice helps to focus me. Through reflection on what I'm learning I become more aware both of Buddhist concepts (enlightenment, karma, samsara, etc...) and more awake. It's still off and on awakeness, but it's a start.

In under two weeks I will be heading down to New York City to meet up with my parents. I will be away a total of five days but two of those days (one going and one coming back) will be me sitting for six hours a stretch on a bus. I used to like to travel, but now I don't. I have become a homebody who gets anxious whenever I have to leave home. But I haven't been to NYC in several years and whenever I go I find myself wishing that I could live in the City again. This trip I want to continue with my meditation practice and that's going to be quite a challenge in itself. I'm not sure if I can pull it off, but if I can I think I will be calmer and more awake for the experience, happier.

More important than visiting NYC is seeing my parents. I only get to see them 2-3 times a year. They are in their 80s now and I will worry about them wandering around the City. I will probably spend a chunk of my time with them visiting museums and maybe going to the ballet. Being around them I will practice getting in touch with love and compassion, which is, according to Buddhists, a ripe time for cultivating bodhichitta or the awakened heart. In the coursebooks I'm reading getting in touch with your heart is stressed as a vital part of meditation. One of the reasons I'm drawn to Tibetan Buddhism is that I recognize that my heart is still numb, still partially frozen and the practice is about warming the heart and making it sensitive and responsive again. Pema Chodron has said many times that we all have this what she calls "soft spot" inside ourselves which I think is bodhichitta. It is open, tender, compassionate, wise. She also says that all the suffering in the world stems from people trying to protect their soft spot. In armoring our hearts we lose sensitivity and we become deadened or callous or cruel even.

Each time I was abused by Brendan, my heart began shutting down. What took it's place was intense distorting fear and suppressed anger. I had to deaden myself both to get through the relationship and to get out of it, but at what a cost! I haven't had a heart wrenching cry since before I left Brendan over 15 years ago. I associated that kind of crying with bodhichitta. When Brendan wasn't around and I got a chance to cry, I felt like a 4 year old kid who has been betrayed somehow for the first time by a loved one. My heart felt so young and pliable, so wide open, so innocent and rather beautiful and at the same time so very unhappy. Look at a young child crying deeply, he or she is absorbed, intense yet so open. I've been like that and you've been like that, just letting loose all the sadness in a shocked way. Like "How can this be happening to me?!"

It's what happens afterwards that is very important. After all that crying has settled down and your eyes are puffy and your nose is stuffed and you feel weak. That's the point where you are just existing with your tender heart, your awakened heart bodhichitta. So what do you do? You've been deeply hurt. You can either be accepting of it, soften, learn, open, start to grow up or you can get hard, angry, bottled up again, even revengeful. With Brendan I got hard and I got angry and I got numb. I blamed him instead of taking on my responsibility for helping to create the situation that I was in. It just was not all his fault and the fault he should have taken on and acknowledged but didn't gave me the excuse to lay all blame on him. I was abused, yes and he was in the wrong, but I played my part often out of ignorance and misery.

Anyway, my heart was scarred and I scarred my heart by shutting so far down. After I left Brendan I was still shut down and then I became deeply ill and shut down even more. But as I learned to take care of myself with therapy and medication and creativity I have been moving back in the direction of my heart. Now I can look at my wounded heart and say "What's up?" and "What can I do to help?" The pain that I feel, the suffering that comes up, is connected to bodhichitta, the soft spot and I am beginning to see this as true. Normally, I see pain as the enemy, but now I see pain as part of having a sensitive heart. Sensitivity can hurt, but it also can open up the world, rule out pain and you might be ruling out joy as well. And that's what I'm finding, that everything is intertwined rather than separate. That's what makes things so wonderful sometimes and so confusing.

We live in a culture of good guys and bad guys often ignoring that the so called "good" guys often act as immorally and as aggressively as the "bad" guys. The fact that good guys can act like bad guys and bad guys can act like good guys shows that life is not black and white. All of us, without exception, are a mixture of positive and negative impulses. The problem is we want to see ourselves as only positive and none of the negative. Even when we see and feel our negative qualities we want to deny them somehow, make less of them. And in some ways we should, should stop making such a big deal out of ourselves. But in other ways it is important to acknowledge that we have failings and limitations, not just acknowledge it but repeat it to others to let them know that they are not alone, that we are all in the same boat.

Too often I feel very separate from others and that's part of why I stay numb. I won't acknowledge that there are millions of people, maybe more, who feel what I feel. I've been trying to practice a little bit of the tonglen meditation which has you breath in pain and breath out healing or give away healing and pleasure. First you start with your own pain and then extend it to include the people you love, the people you feel neutral about and then the people you dislike or even hate. Ultimately you breath in everyones pain and breath out everyones healing, so you make that connection between your seemingly isolated pain and the pain of everyone else. In making that connection you build and deepen compassion.

I have a high mountain to climb and I'm somewhere near the bottom of it. The goal is to exchange my limited view of myself for a big view of everyone else and to be of some help to some of those others. But first I must gradually climb the mountain, pace myself, strengthen my heart.

Sitting With The Pain

Thanks Mike for the comment you left on my last blog entry. It's good to know that there is someone out there sometimes following my blog who is interested in both Buddhism and the I Ching. I really would love to hear from you, especially about your studies with the I Ching, since I don't talk about it much with anyone.

Actually, I have not been consulting the I Ching as frequently since I turned my studies over to Buddhism, but I'm still keeping in touch several times a week. When I do, I have been getting in response to my questions a single hexagram with no moving lines. It's supposed to be an emphatic response, a hexagram to contemplate in its entirety. You're supposed to stop and look for a while. I asked the question "What should I focus on this year?" and I got 26 Great Taming. That stuck with me intuitively, though I couldn't say why. Then I asked if I should take this Buddhist course and I got 60 Measuring. Measuring, which I see as setting limits and being disciplined, also fits with Great Taming or, in this instance, me taming myself through meditation and philosophical studies. I was also reading a Pema Chodron book and she repeatedly used the word "tame" in talking about Buddhist practice.

So I've continued to meditate once or twice a day all this week. I've also been trying to just be, just sit still with my pain when it comes up; invariably it returns. I don't just sit still, I look at the pain. What I found was that the pain was not pure, solid pain, but pain sharing the same space with pleasure or non pain. The pain was concentrated and around it there was a lot of non pain or space or even pleasure. What this means is that the situation is not completely desperate. I have the choice to let go of the pain by redirecting my attention to the open spaces.

And I've thought this before in a different context. I've thought that the voices which have been capable of much cruelty and sickness are really part of a wonderful mystery. They are aware and can communicate and are subtle and intelligent and creative. There is a lot of space around them as well. My next thought was that people automatically attach the idea of hearing voices to something negative. They are a sign of mental illness, period. Though I'm aware that there are people who hear voices who are not mentally ill. I heard voices that were mainly benevolent for years before I became delusional and paranoid. Granted, I was still sick but not so much because of voices as because of the personal choices I made in life up to that point. I have said to those who are ill with voices or to their caretakers: Look for the good in the voices, don't just focus on the bad and you will begin to ease your suffering by expanding your perspective.

Buddhist practice seems to be expanding my perspective on my immediate experiences even more. I had heard Pema Chodron talk about the open space or in Tibetan "shunyata" that is always available and about breathing in pain in the tonglen meditation practice and breathing out the healing of pain, but it is only now after meditating for a couple of weeks that I am starting to understand that the two go together. And instead of pain being all bad, it is like another quality of experience, something to compare and contrast with other experiences, reactions and feelings. Don't get me wrong, I still want to run away from pain, but just being willing to sit with the pain and not do anything and let thoughts go even for a minute I am changing my mental atmosphere and opening myself up gradually.

But before I came to that awareness, I was just sitting in meditation with the attitude that I wasn't doing it to feel good, rather to find my way awkwardly to wake up to my present experience. That's an important point. Meditation can be very pleasant, sometimes so pleasant that you attach to it as a way of meditating "right", but really whenever you stop doing and rest in just being, you are meditating, regardless of whether you are comfortable or not or whether you are lost in thought a lot or not. There is no "right" way to meditate, not really, there is just having the courage to face your present moment and breathe through it and to let yourself keep waking up. You know how it feels to get all sleepy sitting next to a stranger on a train? You keep drifting off into sleep leaning into the person beside you only to wake up suddenly and with some embarrassment, only to fall again into sleep. Meditating can be like that, except you get all caught up in your thoughts, which, if you look at them, have no substance, only to realize that you are caught up, which then wakes you up to rest from your thoughts for a while. Either way, you are pulled into sleep/dreaming and then you wake up for short intervals...and that is meditation. As you go along training yourself to label thoughts as "thinking" and to encourage yourself to "Wake Up" I believe the intervals of being awake, aware and not lost in thoughts gradually become longer and longer.

So Buddhism is The Big Experiment. Each individual who approaches Buddhism must look to their own experience and start watching and asking intelligent questions. But I'm starting to see that you do need contact with others along the way, especially a teacher and other students. I was given permission to join the online Sanghaspace and I got my introductory course materials yesterday along with contact information for the Lama and one of her senior students. Within the next couple of days I will contact Lama Shenpen and the contact person chosen for me via email. I'm pretty sure the contact person is a volunteer, so I will be very respectful towards her. I have read through some of the materials and it is the real deal. It's written clearly, intelligently and sensitively and it has substance to it. I'm very pleased so far. I keep hoping that something that I do will take hold and that I won't continue in my pattern of embracing one thing, letting it go, embracing a new thing, letting it go, returning to an old thing, etc... I have good ideas, but I don't often follow through or I follow through but it takes me years of moving away and towards again. Maybe that's okay, as long as I don't give up on myself.

That's a new thought too: maybe it's okay to be the way I am. Maybe, but I'm not convinced yet. What I do tend to do is view myself as wrong in some way. If I feel pain, then I'm doing something wrong. When I look closely, that's not accurate. Pain doesn't have to be a judgment upon you, it can just be a fact of life. We demonize pain and blame all our troubles on it, but it's really just one of many aspects of our experience. The fact that it stands out makes it easier to study it, if you have the courage to do so. That's where I'm at right now, just getting used to sitting with discomfort/pain/suffering for a little while, here and there throughout the day/night. I'm even getting to the point where I welcome a bit of pain just so I can study and understand more about it. It's a tentative welcome, but there nonetheless.

First, Train In The Preliminaries

Several years ago I bought something called The Compassion Box. It is an actual box with a book by Pema Chodron called Start Where You Are in it, a CD on how to do a meditation practice called Tonglen and a Card Deck with the 59 Tibetan Buddhist Lojong (or mind training) slogans. I have read and re-read (and underlined) the book in an attempt to learn some of the slogans, but I have not worked with the cards or the tonglen meditation practice very much. I'm presently working with the slogan cards before I approach tonglen. The very first slogan is "First, train in the preliminaries." This is what Pema Chodron has selected to be the commentary on the slogan: "The preliminaries are also known as the four reminders. In your daily life, try to: (1) Maintain an awareness of the preciousness of human life. (2) Be aware of the reality that life ends; death comes for everyone. (3) Recall that whatever you do, whether virtuous or not, has a result; what goes around comes around. (4) Contemplate that as long as you are too focused on self-importance and too caught up in thinking about how you are good or bad, you will suffer. Obsessing about getting what you want and avoiding what you don't want does not result in happiness."

The preciousness of life. According to the Buddhist perspective, we have been reincarnated as all kinds of living beings since the beginning of time, but of all the life on the planet, to be born a human is a great achievement in itself. Only humans can learn, apply and teach the dharma, the teachings of Buddha. Being in a position where you have the shelter, food and time to study the teachings is considered precious indeed because it is a big step towards reaching enlightenment and then being of benefit to others on their up and down road to enlightenment. But all this stops me. Do I believe in reincarnation? Do I believe in enlightenment? Before I can approach those issues, I need to ask "What is dharma?" All I know is that the word dharma is used very broadly; it is not just the teachings of the Buddha, but also all the wisdom that was generated after him. Pema Chodron teaches dharma and the 59 slogan are dharma and developing an awareness of your mind is also a part of dharma practice. There is another lojong slogan that instructs "Regard all dharmas as dreams." In that instance dharma means life itself, or regard life as a dream. The final question is "Do I believe that life is precious?"

My automatic response is "Yes, of course, life is precious." But if I believe it, do I practice it? I know I put a value on my life because I worry about accident, disease and death. If I didn't value my life, I wouldn't worry about dying. And so the next reminder: life ends; death comes for everyone. It may be ironic, but the fact that death is inevitable makes life all the more precious. Which is one reason to contemplate death while you're alive. Contemplating death is also contemplating the impermanence of life. Everything changes. You're changing from moment to moment. Every seven years you will have all new cells in your body, the old ones will have died. We are rejuvenating as we are dying. So there's something precious within that very impermanence, maybe even something precious in that we all die. We have a strong common bond: all life is precious and we all die and new life keeps returning out of the ashes of the old life.

The third reminder is about karma or what goes around comes around. The law of cause and effect. This hooks right back into reincarnation. What you did in a past life can have an effect in this life and what you do in this life can affect a future life. But disregarding reincarnation, I think it is fair to say that if you generate kindness, you often receive kindness in return and if you stay hostile and critical, hostility is often drawn back to you. There's a lot of logic in karma. My brother, who is a devout agnostic, believes in the law of karma. So, be kind and generous to be kind and generous--stick with that as a rule.

The final reminder is a warning against what Buddhists call "ego-clinging". They challenge people to look closely at themselves, to see the unsatisfactory nature of craving/attachment and aversion. Feeling the suffering is a good way to motivate an individual to put Buddhism into practice. The goal of Buddhism is to end suffering (not to be confused with pain because some pain is necessary). The First Noble Truth is that life means suffering. The Second Noble Truth is that the origin of suffering comes from attachment to things and concepts. Self attachment or "ego-clinging" causes the most suffering because it is so pervasive and untamed. Once you look closely and get in touch with all the subtle and not so subtle suffering that goes on from day to day inside yourself and with others and once you see that getting attached to things and concepts cannot give you any lasting happiness because the nature of life is change, you are ready to embrace The Third Noble Truth that the cessation of suffering is possible. The Fourth Noble Truth is to follow the Eightfold Path to end suffering.

So everyday train in the preliminaries/reminders: the preciousness of life, the fact of death, the law of karma and the unsatisfactory nature of self-importance/ego. Actually, that's a lot to train in each day. I'm finding that Buddhism asks a lot of individual practitioners which is both a challenge and an obstacle to overcome.

I've been meditating every day for almost a week now. I've decided not to sit in the traditional cross legged pose on the floor, but rather to sit straight up in a chair with my hands on my thighs/knees and my feet flat on the floor. I decided this because I kept getting distracted by physical pain in my back and shoulders, an overall restless feeling. Too much restlessness and I give up the practice, so better to try the alternative, which has been working out. It's not that I'm expecting meditation practice to be just generally pleasant. Practice is a mixture of pleasure and pain, the ever shifting thoughts and feelings. I still am believing that the thoughts themselves are somehow important when, generally speaking, they are not. And so I hold on instead of becoming aware that I am thinking and just letting the thought go and resting in an aware but thought-free space. I'm also having trouble being lightly aware of every out breath. So right now I am just getting used to my mind watching itself, then getting caught up and then back to watching itself, saying gently and kindly "Thinking" in my mind when I want to let go of the thoughts.

Included in the Buddhism course I'm about to take is a forum called Sanghaspace. By taking this course I am entering into the Awakened Heart Sangha and this forum is where I get to meet other travelers on this path. But in turns out they upgraded their system sometime this past year and I was logging on to the old system, where barely anyone was posting. So I left a post there introducing myself (including my diagnosis), left a photo of the drawing of Pema Chodron I did and asked where everyone was. Someone got back to me today giving me a link to the new forum space. I registered for it and am awaiting approval to begin checking it out and posting. I was very relieved. Part of why I joined this course was to have access to other Buddhists as well as to the main teacher and one of her senior students. Isolation is a big theme for me even before I became seriously ill. And so I hope to become a member in good standing (albeit online) in time. What's good about this group is that it is based on a real life sangha in Wales, U.K. It also revolves around the teachings of Lama Shenpen Hookham as well as of her husband and her main teacher. So there is both a focus and perhaps an intimacy to this group that I haven't experienced on other Buddhist forum sites.

So that's what I've been doing this week, studying dharma and trying to apply it to my life gradually. I have not been being creative otherwise. No memoir writing (though I am sharing some memories with an old friend), no painting and no singing/songwriting. I was saying to Karen in an email that our lives are meaningful even when we are doing nothing. I do get hung up on valuing myself based on what I happen to be doing. If I paint a good portrait, then I am good, but if I don't paint (write, play, etc...) then I am bad. Jon Kabat-Zinn, the mindfulness meditation teacher, jokes in his audiobook that Wherever You Go There You Are that people should say to themselves "Don't just do something, sit there!" instead of saying it the other way around. There is something powerful about not reacting and just being for some time each day.