Category Archives: Uncategorized

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

Animating Life

I’m thinking of two different perspectives:

1. Things stay the same, becoming solid and dull over time
2. Things change, flow and brighten

While it makes sense that things evolve, gradually becoming new versions of themselves, it seems to me that we don’t act that way.  If I tell you, “I am a teacher”, it’s likely you have a stable image of what that means, due to your life experiences about teaching.  And it’s easy to become so firm in our perception of something, such as a maple tree, that the original beauty of the object becomes lost.  The spreading branches in the backyard, adorned with lovely reds and oranges in the fall, simply becomes “a tree”.

When we use adjectives, such as “humble” or “endearing”, the aliveness of the word is so often invisible to us.  To be “not full of oneself, without pride” shows me a person with a glass half full – lots of room to discover the new in life.  To be “lovable, precious, making dear” shows me a person who shines as the light plays over the jewel, someone who deserves to be held as you would a baby bird, someone whose glow touches others.

Some of us use a lot of words, almost a barrage at times.  The flood of verbiage doesn’t give us time to pause, and reflect on what has been said.  Compare the land as perceived from a car to what the cyclist sees.  I also think of black soil after a rain.  If I really pay attention, I see the lovely seeping of water into the earth … so slow and exquisite.

I have two favourite words.  The first no doubt would be the choice of many.  The second I likely share with virtually no one.

Love

Did I guess right?

Animation

How about this time?

If your first thought is something like this: “the technique of photographing successive drawings of models to create an illusion of movement”, I understand.  My joy, however, is in “the process of giving life to, of making alive”.  The words we choose, the moments where we pause and behold, the creation of an alive space between us – these are what we give and receive.

The Last Breath

I thought tonight about Greg Scharf. He was my favourite teacher at the Insight Meditation Society, a Buddhist centre in Massachusetts. I enjoyed many silent retreats there.

Greg was a great storyteller. One night he told us about an old monk who was declining physically. A week or so before he died, he looked out at a circle of sad devotees and said something like this: “You know, in a matter of days or weeks, I’m not going to be here anymore. I’ll be dead!” The venerable one then burst out laughing, bent over with a bellyful of mirth. And the joy kept rolling off him.

I can only imagine how shocked his audience was. I’m still shocked, and Greg’s story was five years ago. How astonishing to see the end as the best joke in the world, rather than the slow plod of a hearse.

Wow.

Will I have the same grace to see the lightness of it all when my finale approaches? In the intervening time, how will I be with inevitable losses? Friends dying, perhaps memory deserting, disease intruding, no longer being able to drive my car, needing someone to shave me.

Seventeen years ago, I ruptured a tendon in my foot and underwent tendon transfer surgery (thank you Dr. Willits!) I was on crutches for 17 weeks, and was just starting a new teaching job in a high school. My office was on the third floor and the principal made sure I had an elevator key. That first day, I looked down the stairs and realized that what was so ordinary was now impossible. The gulp of frailty is still within my mind.

And a smile is on my face. How strange that there’s no fear here, just a leaning forward into whatever’s next. It’s a wonder. Whether the end is one year away or twenty, may the smile not desert me. Why not chuckle at the silliness of it all?

***

For those of you who read my post yesterday, you’ll be pleased to know that my new printer is working fine, fully aligned with my laptop and cell phone. And I had a lovely conversation last night with my friend. Finishing is fun.

Unfinished Business

A long time ago, in a province far, far away … I was a trainee in Werner Erhard’s est program.  A weekend for us in Vancouver had been scheduled and we had homework to complete beforehand.  One item on the list caught my attention:  “Clean your fridge.”  So down-to-earth, not really transformational at all.  

Except it was. Once soggy veggies and scum-laden crevices had been dispensed with, I gazed in wonder at the shiny freshness. On the flight west, I marvelled at the release I felt, and images of my dear fridge kept appearing.

Then there’s now. Seems like the lessons take time to sink in. An unopened box sits in the den at the front of my home. It’s done that for a month now. Inside no doubt is a new printer. My old one really struggled with the latest Microsoft update and the future looks bleak for this model that’s been left behind. You could say that it’s not really a problem, since printed pages continue to spew out of the beast.

But then there’s my mind. “I bet it’ll take a couple of hours to set up the new printer. Probably there’ll be stuff I don’t understand and I’ll be stuck on hold with the folks at Hewlett-Packard.” However I spin it, the basic fact is that I told myself I’d do X, and X keeps sitting there, sticking its tongue out at me. My printer energy is stuck, and that’s not good enough for this fellow who wants to flow out into the world.

It’s 6:30 pm right now and I choose not to begin the box-opening saga, but I promise you I will get the new one going tomorrow daytime. Whatever I write about tomorrow evening, I’ll attach a note about my progress/success. So there.

I get there’s power here. Moving unfinished to finished. In the past few days, I’ve done a few simple things that leave me with a head held high:

1.  I cut my toenails.  No big deal?  Wrong.  The arthritis in my right wrist makes it hard to wield toenail clippers, but I persisted.  It took a long time and I don’t care.  I’m tempted to attach a pic of my toes but perhaps I’ll choose discretion.

2.  I cleaned the shower, finally figuring out that wearing knee pads would allow me to really give ‘er with the brush for minutes at a time.  I don’t care if I never clued in before.  I now have a clean shower.

3.  This is an unmentionable concerning the human body so I won’t mention it.  But it’s been a long time coming and (Praise the Lord!) the deed is done.  Definitely no photos of this one.

4.  I … dusted.  And swept.  Where exactly did all this flotsam and jetsam come from?  No matter, the accumulation is now residing at the bottom of my garbage can.

5.  Over the last week, I phoned three friends to see how they’re doing.  We haven’t seen each other in person since March.  Very cool people, each their own distinct flavour of humanity.  We met.

***

Hmm.  My head is higher.  There’s a spring to my step.  The flow is flowing once more.

And yet one more vestige of incompletion remains.  Another dear friend hasn’t heard from me for awhile.  So when my tapping, proofreading and sending is done in a few minutes, I’ll give her a dingle.

Ahh …