Azithromycin, a full course antibiotic therapy in just 5 doses

Last day: 5. Guess that means I'm officially over it. The ick that's going around.

Saw some good friends in Benicia last night, haven't been up there for a while. Have to head over to Clayton soon, too.

Bought some clothes last weekend that I'm very happy with. Bought some dress shoes on-line that arrived today. Very unhappy holding them in my hands; they just don't do the photographs justice. Buying clothes, especially shoes, on-line is an dicey proposal. And these shoes are going back.



Yesterday had a few strange events. Drove to work to cut down lateness and saw a couple of wild turkeys on the hill next to Orinda. Then walking with a friend at lunch up to the Oakland Rose Garden Park, saw another turkey calmly ambling and pecking around the roses. A good friend of mine suggests that urban/suburban people encounters with wild animals are special events to be noted and correlated with other omens. Also at the park the 2nd of the 3 great pine trees had recently blown over, up-ending its roots and tossing a large section of asphalt walk up on its side. Another omen. I was present the day after the first of the 3 blew other a few years ago. Their hulking, sheltering presence made for the peaceful and protected space under which marriages are often performed at the park. Now there remains 1 great pine.

The last event I'll note here was tragic and dramatic. Kim and I returning from Walgreens were passed by an ambulance heading in our direction. I could see up in the distance a clump of flashing lights, and I speculated out loud that there must have been an accident at the intersection just beyond our street. As we approached we saw that there were multiple police cars, a fire truck, the ambulance, and many neighbors and public professionals at our street. And as we got right up to it, they were on our corner property -- a small car coming down from the other direction had crossed lanes, jumped the curb, driven over our neighbor's and our side property and crashed into one of our hickory trees. Missed the fence, drove over the agave/century plant and hit two trees. Tree vs. car, tree wins. The fire dept and medical people were carefully extracting the driver; I could see from the open passenger door that the deflated passenger airbag was bloody, but I didn't see the passenger. It must have happened just 15 minutes before we arrived home.

Ate too much today, not really best choices. I feel uncomfortable tonight, but also disappointed about how I'll feel tomorrow (had pasta and carbs always effect me poorly) I'm down a stable 15 lbs from beginning of year. Can I afford today's load? It will work out. I had an unusual, overwhelming reaction to an extraordinarily condescending remark from a manager directed at a co-worker; I couldn't get over how strongly I felt insulted hearing this manager's comment, "That attitude is not helpful." Sounds pretty simple when you write it out of context, but it was dripping with fucked up, condescending sarcasm as it spurted across the conference table. My supervisor, who was present, was kind enough to stay at my request and talk to me privately about my reaction. He's a good person to talk to, I'm thankful.
Then lunch with The Guys from the office, we went into the official gossip zone and beat up on key management types. Delightful, like eating a box of chocolates in one sitting.

Gray called today. Good to hear his voice. His business' annual catalog is just done. He's looking to get a car again. Riding bike for 30 minutes at 10 degrees f was too much, and Gray and Heather drive to places on the weekends. Anxious about the loan, doing good.

Weekend is here. Feeling... blah. Feeling examined, watched. I want to wander off, slip down the side, find another path, a clear spot. Something. Can't see it from here. Little less freedom, fettered.

I could go over the river, sit with a friend at a sidewalk cafe, chat, feel the clear air on my arms and sun on my face. The water, the hills, the birds, the refineries. Gaze at the smile, the eyes. Good companionship, I crave it. Maybe I'll get an email, maybe my phone will ring. Maybe I'll send one, or ring one up.

And chores and errands. That will probably eat up tomorrow. Wish I was... oh, never mind.

soy doodle too cute latte

There I am again
Cafe Trieste
Does Kent ever go home?

Do I? Have I ever been?

Bay blows by
naked

Pencil, gum smudge
charcoal papers
of soy doodle
too cute latte
paper cups
on the sideway walk
reaching down over my shoulder
came that thought
the picture of that day
that poem came down and
one word played
it out on my page
put a space here
one big word
I put a space around it
my word made the space engage

Whose face, whose porkchop cap
is that, the shaw, the coat
on the sidewalk shoes talk
with winter sidewalks are cold
sunny sideways old broken cement
my funny friend wants those fabers
those castells
those fascinating writing instruments in the
Graf von Faber-Castell collection
"marking BOLD moving" she says
but they go flying
everything on the ground
these old hands can't hold them
that is the pattern as I get old then
everything on the ground these days

...where did that poem go on that day
that one word?

She says, "Hey, Hi, lookie there"
handsome chaps fiddle and drumming it
soft jazz and soft breeze and softeaze
warm bundles of bright red cheeks
roasty coffee smells good
smiling eye to eye
with one word
they talked the day away

Breeze in the trees
fine clothes

Cafe Trieste
Does Kent ever go home?
I never go,
never been.

Poltergeist is back

I woke up quickly from a dream at 1:45am by the sensation of heartburn rising from my stomach. Trained by the events of the last few days (the flu) I immediately sat upright. Got up to get a Tums and my eye went to the livingroom front door. It was ajar and our black cat, Seven, was slinking back in. In silhouette I saw the door bolt out and in highlight saw the tab on the handle in lock position. My impression was that Kim stepped out, left the door open behind her. Naked (sorry for the image, I strangle in nightgarb) I crouched behind the door and peered out, there was our white cat, Binky, leaning off the porch looking over the periwinkle in the dark. "Binky, get your skinny white ass in here now!", which he did. I shut the door, turned on the hall light, checked on Kim, "...wha...what's up?...". Gaia and Bug, the other two cats were laying on my bed, wondering when I'd be quiet so they could sleep.

Weird. We are very careful about the doors to the outside because our cats, as a rule, are not allowed out (leads to extremely long life spans). There was a time when our boy, Grayson, would stack up strange combinations of cans and things on the water dispenser in the kitchen and claim he knew nothing!, but he's in Chicago these days. Oh well....

ah, this I know

My hiking friend muses on flower language...

The weather will remain fine, but the green passes so quickly. Maybe its just its ephemeral nature that makes me want to drink it in every chance I get. The wildflowers where I hike are just starting. This year I might get an identification book; I like to know what things are called. What is it about being able to name things? Maybe its enjoying the gift of language, maybe its about being able to say - ah, this I know.

There is an inside to our experience. Our eyes receive the colors and shapes and movements. Our noses receive the scented messages of wild spring. Our feet take us closer, our hands reach out to the textures. Our skin feels the breeze and the warm sunlight. Our hearts and minds respond. There is an interior to our experience. The light on the retina causes the cells to react and pass on what becomes perceptions in our minds, our heart imbues the perceptions with a wordless meaning, which can take on any story that comes to mind or none at all. We feel we are there, we know it.

Separate from and equal to the individual experience, you and I share an experience of wildflowers on rolling hills in the spring sun. "That is California Poppy, Eschscholtzia californica". To know it through language we are connected each to the other. On the inside is the common visual systems producing perceptions, the mutual language and the history systems that we share; on the interior of this shared experience, with language and beyond, is to know it in you and to know it in me through the resonances and dissonances of our poppies experience. Through our languaging I am there with you and all the others.

In calm and calamity, holding the paradox of I and We situates us in the experience of meaning. That is the field of compassion. To others as to myself.

"I've said it many times, but I do believe it is true: Spirit surely manifests itself in everything that arises, but it especially manifests itself in this miracle called a 'we'. If you want to know Spirit directly, one of the ways to do so is to simply and deeply feel what you are feeling right now whenever you use the word 'we'.

There are many ways to talk about these important differences between individual and social, but perhaps the most significant ... is indeed the fact that the we is not a super-I. When you and I come together, and we begin talking, resonating, sharing, and understanding each other, a 'we' forms--but that we is not another I. There is not an I that is 100% controlling you and me, so that when it pulls the strings, you and I both do exactly what it says*.

And yet this 'we' does exist, and you and I do come together, and we do understand each other, and we can't help but understand each other, at least on occasion.

Interesting, isn't it? The richness and complexity of this 'we' is simply staggering... and yet it exists. And we can understand each other--you and I can understand each other! But how on earth do you get in my mind, and I get in your mind, enough that we are in each other to the point that we both agree that we can each see what the others sees? However this happens, it is a miracle, an absolute, stunning, staggering miracle...."

Philosopher Ken Wilber, from his book "Integral Spirituality".

*Wilber's dog, Isaac, dominates all the cells of his body. When Isaac gets up and walks away half his cells don't go one way and half go another. That's an individual (a dominant monad). When a swarm of bees or a flock of geese move in a coordinated way it is by mutual consent of individuals acting through their social aspect. That's a we (a dominant mode of discourse, a predominant mode of mutual resonance). Without both aspects of each occasion I am and we are incomplete. 'I' and 'We' are two of the irreducible quadrants of any occasion.

The Tathagata's Flower Sermon was wordless, encapsulating ineffable tathātā: it comprised the purity of direct communication wherein Śākyamuni proffered a white flower to the sangha (a flower by which he had been gifted immediately prior to ascendence of the teaching dais), amongst whom there was no realization except Mahākāśyapa, who smiled. According to tradition, the smile signified Mahākāśyapa's direct cognition, and Śākyamuni affirmed this by saying:

I possess the true Dharma eye, the marvelous mind of Nirvana, the true form of the formless, the subtle Dharma Gate that does not rest on words or letters but is a special transmission outside of the scriptures. This I entrust to Mahākāśyapa.

Allergy Lame... ugh

Hard day. On my train ride to work I had the distinct sense in my throat of an on-coming cold. The last few years I've had these sensations noticing I'm not getting the other symptoms that would confirm a cold, like temperature, and that it is allergy. I forgot my Allegra today. My sinus is clear, but not my mind. I'm in such a fog, I can barely work with people. I find now, in the early afternoon, that my old craving for carbs/sweets is raising its head, which fits with feeling this tired. A nap, a nap, my serfdom for a nap. I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself and anxious about my obligations. Would like to talk a supportive friend, but don't want to extend myself. Lame, huh?

...zzzzzz... if only.

(evening:)
I barely limped home. Had to set the alarm and nap for a bit. Now, waking up, I'm feeling not like a cold is coming but the flu. This is very uncomfortable.

And Lama Zopa Rinpoche keeps on smiling!!!



(night:)
Stayed home and watched The Incredible Hulk. Great cast: Edward Norton, Liv Tyler, William Hurt, Tim Roth. And nice cameos by Stan Lee, Lou Ferrigno, and a clip from The Courtship of Eddie's Father (Bill Bixby). I can't recommend this film to anyone, although the romantic dynamic between Bruce Banner and Betty Ross brought tears to my eyes several times. I collected Marvel comics in the early '60s. It didn't help my mood that the Hulk is green. Extreme discomfort trying to sit and watch, but nothing else would have helped. Sleep was difficult, waking every hour, and finally wretching at about 1am -- then I was able to rest. Totally wiped out, called in sick on Friday and slept, slept and slept.

I'm trying to remember

The days will be up and down. Try to remember that 'this too shall pass' but don't passively wait for it to happen. If depression lurks at the corner of your vision, snarling and waiting to take advantage, my (unsolicited but experienced) advice is to stand up to it - call it out, and tell it respectfully but firmly that it is unwelcome and you are armed with love and strength. Open the window and bid it leave. Do what you can to alleviate, try not to isolate & know that many people care. I hope your time tonight is peace filled. I'm sending you good thoughts....

(E2K)

Splitting heartache

The tide is out, way out.
Little birds pecking at the sand bars.
Boats resting on the exposed bed of the marina.
The pylons' roots thrust deep in the mud.
The only sound is the wind blowing on my face.
The air off the water is cold, so cold.
No one receiving. Deep solitude.

Please be gentle, waning, then waxing.

Criteria for the next level

Good morning. If you make it to morning then they all are.

I'll be meeting my sponsor for breakfast in an hour's time (savings or standard?). Not ready to get ready, I want to laze and to listen and to reflect without any bounds. Damn cats just won't get along, such a chore to always be arbitrating these playground politics. And then they poop something stinky to put their opinion on top of mine.

Kim plans to come home today. I'll give a ride, some support, my friendly familiarity. 1 not 12.

There's always something next. Laundry, bills, vitamins. Back to work tomorrow. My agenda is short and thin. Lacking in plus and minus signs. My life has been so very enriched of late, that's a plus going forward. I've lost the push and pull exclusivity of old agendas. I know the theory but how did that actually come to be in my life on this day?

And I see losing love
Is like a window in your heart
Everybody sees you're blown apart
Everybody feels the wind blow...
For reasons I cannot explain
There's some part of me wants to see
Graceland
And I may be obliged to defend
Every love, every ending
Or maybe there's no obligations now
Maybe I've a reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

Every ending, a beginning.

The quiet in my room is sprinkled with muffled bird song, distant clicking of the heater cover calming down, keyboard clack. The space is filled with a rich, tangible presence of absent friends. That's a plus going forward. Hmmm. I do believe there's someone used the key to go sneak a quiet rest on the couch in the back of my mind. How fine. Never alone again.

Good morning to us.

The dead blackberry

My blackberry has died. I have been carrying it around in my hand like the young mother chimp denying the death of a child. I feel its weight, its fit in my palm and the curve of my fingers. I look at the list of old words etched in crystal, nothing speaks to me.

Something left behind

I have a friend who handed me a box, and in this box was everything dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore. Then, in that moment, the contents of the box were in my safe-place, a box with a door in front that I wore on my chest. When we were together the box could not keep itself shut, the contents would radiate so that the door of the box could not contain the contents, but otherwise the contents were safely closed up and warmly held in the box on my chest. When she beheld the contents radiating from the box I wore on my chest, it warmed her to be with everything dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore, but she did not recognize it was the contents of the box that she handed to me. You see, the contents became mixed with the contents of my safe-place box, everything dear to me about myself that I am learning to take care of now, and she liked the radiance but couldn't see that it was from her safe-place. Then one day I told her, it was her radiance and my radiance mixed together, and when she felt the truth of it, but before she could embrace it, she was overwhelmed by fear for its care. She held her hands over her eyes, and looked away, and left me with what is dear to her about herself that she could not take care of anymore. The contents of the safe-place box cried out for her return so it could spread its radiance again, and pulled the box off from my chest. I am holding the box, the glow is fading, but safe, and warming to the touch. You see, it loves her so much.

You are the air in my chest

Squeaking Wheel

In the suburb, the mighty suburb, the hampster runs tonight.

Motrin or Tylenol? I'll take both. My dentist recommends the combination. Gels work faster, too. But this isn't about teeth. I was hungover yesterday. I couldn't get out of bed, 'slept' until noon. Very not like me, but I had to hibernate, recoup. And I don't drink. A walk in the sun and cool air, but I wasn't really there. Where do I belong? It was so hard to speak with people and bring my attention to them. I just nodded my head and hoped for the best. It's not about them, either.

Maybe I've simply forgotten what it is, that young touch: to look at one thing and see another instead, that every question is a yes or a no, to be convinced or adrift. Disagreements? Work it out. My friend says, "Man, you're old." Getting old. You forget things. Can't hold so tight, if only to be held right. Slip into the middle, slide side to side. Getting tired but not gone yet.

I went back to the church tonight, sat again on the hood of my car and looked at the lights on the river and trains along the edge. The moon was directly overhead. Orion stood before me, Betelgeuse and Rigel pinpoint bright. Who could have a problem on a night like this? Some people energize me, they radiate and I resonate. Lonesome and distant, but not alone and not very far. I can feel their presence now: soft chime of a heart, across the waters. Break down, break through. Be good to yourself, lovely one.

Middle of the night,
letting the hamster work at the squeaking wheel

Shufflus Ipodicus

Took a long walk today down an old road through what was a farm at the time I was born. Walking a slow shuffle. We are old water towers and water wind mills on these streets as though we were not quite done with the work. Still some farm karma to burn. I walked my shuffle and stopped and started, when the road met the sky, so did I.

My heart is filled with blood

Compassionate Communication

Beloved Ajahn Sucitto reads Pema Chödrön's "Widening the Circle of Compassion".

Listen here now. The reading runs about 18 minutes. You may be surprised at this message.

I encountered Pema Chödrön early in my studies of Buddhadhamma. I came to Ajahn Sucitto a couple of years later, actually through a chance encounter with on-line Sutta Readings -- I was riveted listening to his reading of the Sutta Nipata, Way to the Beyond, "Kappa's Question". I've been listening intensely ever since. I was floored recently when, at the end of a long talk and guided meditation I hadn't heard before, Ajahn suddenly launched into this reading from "a Tibetan teacher".

I've been studying Ajahn Sucitto's recorded teachings for the last 2 years. He's written one book so far, which is about his travels with friend through India. There are literally weeks worth of recorded teachings by this monk on virtually every dhamma subject, available on-line. He has given me so much, so freely of himself. May Ajahn Sucitto and Pema Chödrön live long and continue to teach us the dhamma.

"Maitri is very much about moving closer to oneself. Welcoming what one finds in oneself. Compassion is about beginning to extend that sense of welcome outward to all that we encounter; in particular compassion means not shutting down to pain or discomfort. The pain of not liking who we are, the pain of someone not liking us. Compassion has a lot to do with opening to those feelings and to not run away from our pain so we don't have to run away from other people when they trigger our fear and aversion with ourselves and with others when the going gets rough. That is my understanding of compassion."

Pema Chödrön

You can read more from Pema Chödrön here.

May we be well, may our wellness increase.

8 days

I talked to Kim today.