Monthly Archives: November 2020

A Block Away

My neighbour has died from Covid.  He was a fine fellow in his 40’s, father to three great kids.

So now it’s very real to me.  Although a friend in Belgium has now recovered from the virus, right now is when it really hits home.  We are connected … locally and across this big wide world.  We live in different buildings, or different units in the same apartment building, but we are not separate.  In a physical, emotional and spiritual realm, the space between human beings is alive.  May we be awake to the flows of energy that unite us.

As we’re relatively apart from each other’s bodies in this time of the Coronavirus, we yearn for contact.  We phone, we e-mail, and we Zoom across the miles.  We see each other’s faces in little onscreen rectangles and our souls touch.

We need to keep influencing each other, letting folks know that they’re important, that their existence has contributed to our own.  Because in a flash they could be gone.

What can be created when A and B come together?  Far more than the sum of the parts.  What bonds could magically appear that have the power to make us all smile?  We don’t know … but our embracing the future together may show us.

We are not silos.  The pain in the home down the street is shared by all.  Not the thrusting knife of a father and husband taken from the Earth but still an immense sadness.

I heard a story about a meeting the Dalai Lama was hosting for spiritual teachers from around the world.  A friend of a friend went to that meeting, excited about the prospect of awake people gathering.  “What will be created?” he wondered.  The answer?  Not much.  The flow of spiritual wisdom and experiences from each speaker was immense.  Often the audience could feel the transmission of spirit.  But essentially there was no communion between the speakers.  (Sigh)

We are all connected.  And we need to live that way

From this day forward
For better, for worse
For richer, for poorer
In sickness and in health
To love and to cherish
Till death do us part

The Eye of the Beholder

It was an episode of the black-and-white TV series The Twilight Zone. On November 11, 1960, viewers were presented with a woman lying in a hospital bed, her face covered in bandages. Doctors and nurses came and went, their faces wrapped in shadow, or their bodies turned away from the camera.

“Ever since I was a little girl, people turned away when they looked at me … one little child screaming … I’m used to bandages on my face. I’ve lived my whole life inside a dark cave.”

At the nursing station, the verdict was divided:

“If it were my face, I’d bury myself in a grave someplace.”

“Deeper than that twisted lump of flesh, deeper than that skeletal mask, I’ve seen that woman’s real face, nurse. It’s a good face. It’s a human face.”

On the TV overhead, the nation’s leader is giving a speech:

“Tonight I shall talk to you about glorious conformity … the pleasure of our unified society … We must conform to the norm!”

And now a conversation between doctor and patient:

“We’ll take the bandages off soon, Miss Tyler. You may very well have responded to these last injections … if not, please know that there are many others who share your misfortune … you can’t expect to live any kind of life among normal people … perhaps you’ll move into a special area in which people of your kind have been congregated.”

“You mean segregated!”

Later, the time of reckoning is at hand:

“We’ve done all we could do.”

“If I’m still terribly ugly, could I please be put away?”

“Under certain circumstances, the state provides for the extermination of undesirables.”

The bandages are slowly unwrapped. At the last turn, nurses gasp and cover their eyes. “No change!” Miss Tyler bursts from the room, running down the hall past horrified onlookers.

At the end of it all, Miss Tyler is introduced to Mr. Smith, “a representative of the group you’re going to live with. In a little while, you’ll feel a sense of great belonging.”

***

To help you appreciate this story even more, here are some photos:

The first shows a dedicated doctor and nurse, overwhelmed by the appearance of the patient.

Next is the disfigured Miss Tyler.

Finally, a similar abomination, Mr. Smith, offers Miss Tyler a place amid the untouchables.

Sadness

A Picture Speaks Two Words

A traditional Taoist story:

Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. “How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” replied the old man.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.

“Who knows what is good and what is bad?” said the farmer.

Earthworm

I was on my Bowflex strength training machine this morning. It’s in the basement. For half of the exercises I’m facing a fun red wall. For the other half, I’m looking up through the window well at the Southern Ontario sky.

As you can tell, the metal well is ribbed and resembles brick. I love the natural look. I was grunting through two sets of the leg press when my vision caught something unusual in the scene. About eighteen inches below the lip, there was an earthworm, basically vertical. As I pressed in, I’d occasionally glance at the newcomer. Between sets, it was clear: the worm had died there, and his body would stay stuck to the side until I scraped it off. I made a mental note to do that … tomorrow. Future exercise sessions wouldn’t be disturbed by a dry thing hanging onto the lovely bricked pattern.

Minutes later, it was the leg extension exercise. Another glance showed that my flexible friend was a bit higher up the well, and not quite so vertical. “It’s alive!”

Closer inspection showed a tiny head wobbling back and forth, and the whole being wriggling upwards. When it came to a rib, it would keep on going, pulling its body above empty space in its pursuit of freedom.

“Oh my God … I’m looking out the window at an elite athlete!”

As the workout continued, I saw “higher, higher…” No cage will constrain. My mouth kept dropping open.

When there were no more exercises, I pressed my nose close to the window. Mr. Worm was pretty much horizontal now, about four inches below the lip. It was approaching a tiny crevice in the plastic surrounding the window. As I watched, there was a full five inches of invertebrate being poking towards the hole. Then four. Three … two … one …

Gone

70%

The poll about the US election got my attention.  It said that 70% of Republicans thought the result was “rigged”.  Joe Biden didn’t win fairly.

I was stunned.  Evidence has piled up that poll workers, supervisors and politicians responsible for elections were meticulous and demonstrated integrity.  So … reality is being ignored by a lot of people.

Who are these folks?

I feel that consciousness is evolving on the planet.  Maybe, though, it shows up as the jagged lines you see on stock market diagrams rather than a smoothly ascending curve.  Clearly some folks aren’t participating in the emergence.

Somebody asserts something.  Does the reasoning make sense?  We’re intelligent people.  We have the ability to analyze statements and sense if they ring true.  Does it matter if the person asserting is male or female, young or old, Republican or Democrat?  No, it doesn’t.  The truth speaks loudly, as do lies.

What if my leader says X?  Am I an underling, inferior in wisdom to the big guy?  Do I really need to associate myself with someone powerful, in order to boost my flagging self-esteem?  Do I need another human being to raise me up from deficiency to sufficiency?  No.

Ouch.  The mere thought of being surrounded by “yes” men and women makes me cringe.  Will the group and the guru have me forget myself as cause?

Arms holding aloft signs such as “Just Say No To Creepy Joe” and “Stolen, Rigged, Fraud” remind me of other arms, ones that long ago were held straight out at a 45° angle.  That didn’t end well.

I would like the 70% to be my friends but I wonder if that’s possible.

Fighting For Money

Over my long years, I’ve had many images of myself.  The one that’s hung around the longest is of this nice little Buddhist guy, at peace with the world and everyone in it, simply being love.  Well, I am love … my bones tell me so.

But what if a Mack truck is barreling down on me?  Or somebody wants to strip my home of all its furniture?  Do I simply bow and say “Thy will be done”?

No

Part of me is a warrior, brandishing a sword in defense of myself and others.  Right now, it’s me that comes to mind.

In our pre-Covid life of 2019, I planned two glorious trips to see women play tennis in 2020 – to Montreal and New York City.  I booked a hotel in Canada and an Airbnb in the USA.  This spring, the Quebec Government cancelled all professional sporting events and a bit later the Canadian Government closed our border with American friends, plus the US Open said “no spectators”.

(Sigh)

After the sadness came the resolve to get my $2200 back.  No lying down in the middle of the road.  So began two journeys – two months with Airbnb and five with Expedia.  I probably phoned the Montreal hotel twenty times and reached a human being twice.  Neither time the manager.  At the end of most of my voice mails, I asked the manager to phone me.  Nope.  Valiant Expedia reps dialed the hotel over and over.  The manager was never in.  Really nice people at Expedia said that they were escalating my case to a higher department and so-and-so would phone me within ______ days.  No higher-ups ever phoned.  Twice I sent to Expedia a copy of an e-mail in which the hotel manager agreed to refund my money but no one at the travel company could ever find that e-mail.

There are more details about those five months, and less dramatically the two months with Airbnb, but I’m not going for “poor me” here.  There’s another story.

I hadn’t realized what a determined son-of-my-mother I was.  I’d look in the mirror and see a dog who wouldn’t let that bone go.  Nothing would stop me, including the approximate fifteen hours I spent glued to my phone.  So there was the fierceness walking hand-in-hand with the equanimity.  Does this make me schizophrenic?  No, but as Walt Whitman said long ago, “I am inconsistent.  I contain multitudes.”

I now have $2200 that had gone AWOL for months.  My head is held high.  And I have fond memories of Expedia reps who so much wanted to help.  As for the hotel manager, and whoever in the Expedia Corporate Department let me fall through the cracks …

No way!

Treasure in the Mailbox

It’s been hard for this volunteer to be away from the 11- and 12-year-olds at school since March.  We teach each other and we learn from each other.  Plus kids often bounce through life.  We adults could use more of that bounce.

A few weeks ago, I got to see my young friends on Google Meet.  That was cool.  All those masked faces talking about their exploits.  “We did (this)!  We did (that)!”  Since then, radio silence from them and me.

However (!) today there was a letter amid all the bills and ads.  It was from “The Grade Six Class”.  My heart soared, and I skipped into the house.  Notices can wait.  I tore open the envelope of what’s really important.  Here are a few gems:

Bonjour, Mr. Kerr.  How are you right now, hopefully doing great.  Make sure to keep exercising and maybe I’ll see you around again.  P.S. Sorry for the hole in the page, I was trying to erase.

Hey, Mr. Kerr.  I hope you are staying safe!  I wish you were here but if the pandemic is over soon the whole class is hoping you come back.  Hope to see you soon!

Hi, Mr. Kerr.  Thank you for everything you have done for us.  I hope to see you soon.  I miss you.

Hi, Mr. Kerr!  Are you still going on walks?  We will be doing some more baking soon!  I wish you were here in the class with us.  I hope to see you soon.

I hope the same thing, dear children.  Absence is absolutely making this heart grow fonder.  And these kids graduate in June.  I’ll be so sad if I don’t get to be with them … at all.

I need to remember
We are together
Even if apart

A Spinning Top

The ad popped onto my phone this morning: Above all, a top must be simple, elegant and designed forever. The words were accompanied by a photo – a perfectly balanced top doing its thing.

I said yes in that moment.

There was no research, no plotting of uses, no cost-benefit analysis. There was just yes.

I stared at the simplicity, the balance … the beauty of the object. What is happening to your brain, my man? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

Bruce – what does this thing cost? Shhh.

What good is it? Shhh.

Are you nuts? Shhh again.

And … you better not write about this on WordPress! (Sigh)

I sat quietly and listened. The “yes” was coursing through me, uninformed by rational thought. There wasn’t any bloated verbiage, only that one word.

It was time to see what the company had to say:

According to recent studies, fiddling with items at your desk can aid thought process and improve productivity.

Nah

Learn about the colors, weights and attributes of the metals of our tops.

Nah

We all love to challenge ourselves! Beat your own spin times, or better yet, compete with your friends for pizza and drinks.

Nah Nah

In a few days, my titanium top and a circular glass base will knock on my door. I will welcome them into my family.

Enough said

Just A

Often when I hear people talk about something, they describe what happened, or what was said. Then they go on to give me the meaning they see in that. The moral of the story.

In those moments, I wonder what’s in the mind of the speaker. That his or her truth is the truth? Or that the onlookers aren’t smart enough to come to their own conclusions? Mathematically, the strategy could be described as A → B. What if we just talked about A and left it at that? There may be a lesson but you figure that out. Your lesson may be different from mine.

***

I watched a commercial on CNN today for Aetna Medicare.  A black man, maybe 60, was shooting hoops on a community basketball court.  Not only shooting, but sinking every shot … from well behind the foul line.  Oh, he was having fun!  Every once in awhile he’d glance off to the side.  Behind a chain link fence were three teens.  The girl in the middle held a basketball, and was flanked by two guys.

The girl’s eyes went wide as the man kept nailing his jumpers.  She shared a huge smile with her friends.  The boys were cooler about it but you could tell they were impressed.

Finally the guy smiled at the kids and made a wide sweep of his arm.  The girl basically jumped out of her skin and raced for the gate.  The fellows stood there for a few seconds but then followed the girl’s lead.

The next image was a fast game of two on two.  Everyone was so intense!  Then the man wings a pass to the girl and she swoops in for the layup.  High five across the generations.

***

And now is the time for me to stop
(Grin)

Sufficiency

I enjoy meditating. Here’s the view from the meditation chair in my bedroom.

This afternoon I closed my eyes and let the flowing come to me, being with whatever thoughts or no-thoughts were there. As is often the case, there came a moment when my eyes opened, unbidden by my mind. Someone knew that the meditation was over.

For the first time ever, I remained in the chair for half-an-hour or so. With meandering eyes, I looked across the fields and welcomed far-off cars on their left-to-right or right-to-left journeys.

At one point, there was a thought: “I am sufficient.” It wasn’t an assertive affirmation. It was merely a fact … a quiet one. There was no eruption in my brain, no strident legal arguments to dispute the peace. What did show up was a calm inventory of potential deficiencies:

You want to lose a few pounds.

That’s true. But no big deal. I want to stay healthy and I will.

Do you realize that hardly anybody comments on your WordPress posts or likes them on Facebook?

You’re right. I wonder why. Oh well … I’ll write again tomorrow.

You wanted your next life partner to show up within a few years of Jody dying, but you haven’t found the special one.

Hmm. So true. And yet I’m fine. I can feel it in my bones.

You know, it’s possible that you don’t have much time left on this planet, even though you seem to be in good health.

I wonder … do I have one year left or twenty? (Smile)

***

So quiet right now
Was that a pin I heard dropping?
Time stretches beyond the horizon
And all is well