Aura (more brain lightening)

When I got on the BART train this morning and tried to start reading my book I realized I was having a "fortification spectrum" event again -- I couldn't see the type on the page, or directly in front of me. Lasted from Lafayette until I sat down at my desk in Oakland, about 20 minutes, and changed from a tight arc in the center of my vision slowly expanding and moving as if toward me on the left side of my vision. I believe that is similar to the previous times I've noted this type of event. There is not pain or other physical symptom as this is occuring, and it remains when I close either or both eyes. Although the visual symptom is now gone I feel slight light-headedness and disorientation and fatigue and sensitive, and it was difficult to recall what a coworker was just talking to me about. Now (30 min after visual effect) slight pressure, like sinus headache, is noticeable at my right temple. A little frightening as weird experiences go, given there's no pain or ache or twitch.

Darkness falls

The end of an important and emotional week. A milestone perhaps, I dunno. Much to be thankful for and glad about, especially the many good people I spent time with. Seeing Grayson and Heather again was very important for me. I have many photos that I will use to produce some belated blog entries; the excursion to San Francisco last Friday morning with Eugene and his neighbor Marion was photographically most productive. Warmth, sadness, acceptance. I'm thankful for my employment benefits and the union contract which have allowed me to spend this week focused on the importance and meaning of relationships.

That's it, time to pack up this week and move on. Good night.

Thoughts in line

Line of thought

Sitting on a bench on the Martinez fishing peer. Feet on the railing, green river waves blown up by strong wind. Looking out across the water in E's direction; she's probably not home, working.

Sitting on this bench, sun light on the back of my neck and the wind blowing my hair and clothes around, I recall sitting here with Kim not long ago. Holding her hand, feeling her hand hold mine. So familiar, so recent, so present. What did she wear? Oh, yes, always crushed black velvet tops and pants. There's a big pile of them in the garage by the dryer wrapped up in an old comforter, waiting for disposition. That comforter is awful, I must throw it out. I couldn't give it to charity without washing and that would be a bulky pain. Oh, no, it's the day before the annual we'll-take-anything trash pick-up day, I forgot until just now. And I have other, more important plans for today.

Sitting on a bench on the Martinez fishing peer. Feet on the railing, green river waves blown up by strong wind. Looking out across the water in E's direction; she's probably not home, working.
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Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld
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Not me.

Grayson and Heather came over after lunch at Zachary's. Meantime I had lunch down at 'the Marina' ala Hot Dog Depot. Watched the white pelicans tread water. A young woman and, I figured after listening a bit, her attorney joined me for the ambiance at the next bench facing the river. Beautiful day, lovely weather. And that nice old couple at the Hot Dog Depot are always so friendly and smiley.

Grayson and Heather and I enjoyed some quiet time together. Gray picked out some family photos to take back to Chicago, and I offered to Heather a bowl of fresh organic strawberries. I gave her the pretty scarf I used Saturday to wrap around the cremains container. (It was a favorite scarf of Kim's, black with haloed angel cats.) Gray checked out the long-forgotten face impression of Kim left on the top bookshelf in the back room. I'm afraid to move it and have all the pins collapse, inevitable as that will be; to witness it remains a special experience for those who knew her contours.

I could not meet with my friends yesterday evening. I have not seen these Monday-night friends since early April. I got half-way there and doubted my motivation. A quick inventory revealed nothing but distaste for inventories. What was I thinking? I'm lucky to have good friends who'll see me every week.

I took a nap after Grayson and Heather left for their return flight. I had a dream I was shuffling things around in the house when I should have put them away or cleaned them out. Kim was putting these things out of sight, which is her style, such as the shopping cart in the kitchen which she placed out of sight in the narrow hallway to the garage. I realized shuffling things around was a mistake when I tried to get into the garage and couldn't squeeze by the shopping cart. That Kim! (At least the kitchen looked tidy without the cart in there.) I was startled awake when my kitchen timer alarmed it-is-time-to-get-up.

I ate the pizza slices Gray brought and the last of the Newman's Own Espresso Chocolate Chip Cookies, pouring the crumbles at the bottom of the bag down my gullet. I almost didn't make it to my Buddhist service and meditation tonight: I doubted my motivation. Yet it was warm and supporting without being intrusive. I'm the luckiest guy, not the loneliest guy, in the world. Not me.

...the moon rose over an open field

Seven misses mom

I had the day to myself. I bounced around San Francisco on the bus. A year ago, June 22, the first day of summer, 2008, it was surprisingly hot and Kim and I drove to Ocean Beach. I went into the water and, after 5 minutes of adjusting to the temperature, had a wonderful time. Got very nostalgic for my youth at Newport and Zuma beaches in southern California. It was beautiful, clear and crisp, well attended, the sky was strangely spotted with wispy clouds. I kept turning toward Kim on the beach and waving, "Hey! Look at me!". We laid together on the beach towel in the sun, watching the crowd and the dogs running and playing. We were so at ease, we spontaneously started necking, there, in public, on the sand. Who could have a problem on a day like that?

Today I was at Ocean Beach. It was more emotionally difficult than I anticipated. I was lost and empty and aching, but I did know why. I put my hands in the Pacific Ocean for a recharge, and I left on the 18 bus for Outer Richmond and beyond.

I find I continue to change and then recognize that my new view is really my impression of her view. I'm losing or gaining interest in some things, as she did (e.g., I strangely want a cigarette after 7 years). This was pointed out by one of my doctors as a way for me to bring her back into my life. I recently heard about a counselor who lost her son and found putting his coat on irresistible, feeling his shape, smelling his scent. I must be aware of this tendency -- I am not Kim, hers is not my life, I shall not adopt her problems and conflicts, I am distinctly different. I can choose, she could not.

So, why were five and six afraid of seven? Because seven eight nine!

Martinez Regional Shoreline

We gathered today, Kim's family and friends. We met, got to know one another, and know another again. We ate pizza, and Anna brought a fabulous cake (cake is my thing, you know), and drank frosty sodas and waters, and shivered in the breeze from the river.

I noticed how everyone was at ease and spoke open and wide, not small. Roxanne read, and I read some from Kathi's letter of memories. Recollections, tears, laughs, "Yup, that's Kim!", and knowing nods. We talked a long time about who we are and who we were and what we know from being in this world with Kim and from being together on this day.


I opened the container and held the bag with Kim's ashes. It took my full-force concentration to bless her remains, and I flung her dust into the air. The strong breeze took some, then there was no breeze and some clumped to the ground in front of me, and the breeze picked that up and carried it along. It is done for us, her remains rest here now.

Something Kim didn't like about this place was the cold of the wind constantly blowing in off the river. I used this wind to scatter her ashes, not as evenly as I hoped but I'm relying on nature to do the rest. In time her ashes will soak into the soil with moisture from the river air and her remains will come back up to warm in the sunlight as pink wild flowers that grace the lawns. Pink was her favorite color once and for a long time.

This shoreline is an official reserve preserving the marshes and abundant wildlife. It is also a busy and dynamic location, which is agreeable to Kim's nature; with its active recreational boating and commercial shipping; with the nearby railroads, whistles blowing; with the constant flow of this great river. Ducks and geese and black birds and coots will scratch the grass for grub and chase each other in social play. Rainbow kites decorate the mellow park sky; locals use it for family life, like Kim and I for Saturday cheeseburgers at the picnic table. Those days for us are gone, yet she will always be here in rest for us to visit and enjoy her blooms and green grass.

The sunsets will be hers each day.

Peace, my love.

Passing of Dr. Kaye Rossi

This morning on the way to the BART station, the way passing along the border of much wild open space, I saw a single wild turkey foraging by the side of the road. I have not seen one since last March, and it struck me as an omen -- my distant friend E had advised me to listen to wild animals that find their way into our human domain, they come in with change -- and as I passed the bird I considered stopping for a photo but kept on. Pondering.

Tonight after work, gathering with some friends and acquaintances, we sadly learned of the passing last Sunday of our friend and, more so, our long-time guide, Dr. Kaye Rossi. Bless her heart, may she be free of suffering and the root of suffering. And a personal prayer for Kaye: Thank you.

Ορυκτοί Γλώσσα*

So you are saying that human agreement decides what is true and what is false? It is what human beings say that is true and false; and they agree in the language they use. That is not agreement in opinions but in forms of life.

What is Life?

Probably the best place to begin our discussion of the Earth’s biogeography is to answer the following question. What is life? While the reply to this question may appear simple, scientists have actually spent considerable time pondering this problem. In fact, many scientists would suggest that we still do not have a clear definitive answer to this question. Part of this problem is related to the existence of viruses and other forms of microscopic things. Some scientists define viruses as very complex organic molecules, while others suggest they are the simplest form of life.

In a recent issue of the journal Science (March 22, 2002), molecular biologist Daniel E. Koshland Jr. was asked to write a special essay where he would set out to define life. In this article, he suggested that something could be considered “alive” if it meets the following seven conditions.

(1). Living things must have a program to make copies of themselves from generation to generation. This program would describe both the parts that make up the organisms and the processes that occur between the various parts. These processes are of course the metabolic reactions that take place in a living thing allowing it to function over time. In most living systems, the program of life is encoded in DNA.

(2). Life adapts and evolves in step with external changes in the environment. This process is directly connected to life’s program through mutation and natural selection. This condition allows life-forms to be optimized for gradual changes in the environment.

(3). Organisms tend to be complex, highly organized, and most importantly have compartmentalized structures. Chemicals found within their bodies are synthesized through metabolic processes into structures that have specific purposes. Cells and their various organelles are examples of such structures. Cells are also the basic functioning unit of life. In multi-cellular organisms, cells are often organized into organs to create higher levels of complexity and function.

(4). Living things have the ability to take energy from their environment and change it from one form to another. This energy is usually used to facilitate their growth and reproduction. We call the process that allows for this facilitation metabolism.

(5). Organisms have regeneration systems that replace parts of themselves that are subject to wear and tear. This regeneration can be partial or it can involve the complete replacement of the organism. Complete replacement is necessary because partial replacements cannot stop the unavoidable decline in the functioning state of the entire living system over time. In other words, all organisms degrade into a final non-functioning state we call death.

(6). Living creatures respond to environmental stimuli through feedback mechanisms. Cues from the environment can cause organisms to react through behavior, metabolism, and physiological change. Further, responses to stimuli generally act to increase a creature’s chance for day-to-day survival.

(7). Organisms are able to maintain numerous metabolic reactions even in a single instance in time. Living things also keep each of these reactions separated from each other.

Our mistake is to look for an explanation where we ought to look at what happens as a "proto-phenomenon". That is where we ought to have said: this language-game is played. What has to be accepted, the given is, so one could say, forms of life.

The creation principle developed five essential elements, or building blocks, that all life forms contain: ether, air, fire, water, and earth. We can easily see how life was created from the subtlest to the grossest matter. From eternity, the subtlest form of matter is ether. Ether mixing with eternity creates air, a more observable or experiential element. As air moves, it eventually creates friction, which creates heat or fire. Heat produces moisture, thus creating water, the densest element yet: if one tries to walk through water, one is slowed by its density. Finally, water produces the densest form of matter, earth. The Vedas say that all the creation, including humans, is made up of combinations of all five essential elements. These elements are the subtlest aspects of human life, finer than the molecular, atomic, or subatomic levels.

One can imagine an animal angry, frightened, unhappy, happy, startled. But hopeful? And why not? A dog believes his master is at the door. But can he also believe his master will come the day after tomorrow? And what can he not do here? How do I do it? How am I supposed to answer this? Can only those hope who can talk? Only those who have mastered the use of language? That is to say, the phaenomena of hope are modes of this complicated form of life.

I am alive, I feel I am, I understand I am, and I know I am. I measure your facts and experience you alive. Through the interobjective system of observation you and I populate this ecological network. With intersubjective mutual understanding shared meaning creates the miracle of we. Whole life, just this.

Elemental, my dear Watson.

*Mineral Language

At the edge of the river

"Do you lie down in a daze or drunk on poetry?
Don't you have sufficient goals to meet?
Alone in your secluded dwelling place
Why do you dream away intent on sleep?"

"Having reached the goal," Gotama answers Mara,
"I lie down out of compassion for beings."

Mara vanished at once.

Life holds its own reasons

Go to sleep, sillybird.

On the Eight-Fold Path

Bhikkhu Bodhi: The Way to the End of Suffering

The search for a spiritual path is born out of suffering. It does not start with lights and ecstasy, but with the hard tacks of pain, disappointment, and confusion. However, for suffering to give birth to a genuine spiritual search, it must amount to more than something passively received from without. It has to trigger an inner realization, a perception which pierces through the facile complacency of our usual encounter with the world to glimpse the insecurity perpetually gaping underfoot. When this insight dawns, even if only momentarily, it can precipitate a profound personal crisis. It overturns accustomed goals and values, mocks our routine preoccupations, leaves old enjoyments stubbornly unsatisfying.

...continued...

fall away

What is the mind like
if it's not occupied with plans and schemes,
and fears that the plans and schemes will fail?
What if your unexamined beliefs were to
fall away and you were to live without them,
and also to live without the thought
that you had given anything up?

-- John Tarrant Roshi --