The Fear of Fainting Goats

Yesterday was another gorgeous San Francisco day. It was chilly, but I imagine my Midwestern friends would think it warm for January. The sky was blue, with little white clouds like lace catching the sunlight and adding dimension. The bay was reflecting the blue and the water was still and sparkly. I took a walk downtown and when I was coming back over the hill, the green of the palm trees gave me that old familiar tropical feeling and I filled with the gratitude for the beauty of all the vacations I have ever taken.

I stopped by Cafe Trieste and had a cappuccino, gazed at the photos on the wall of the poets and artists and went back in time for a while. Back in time to that first idealized past, when I was in high school and I dreamed of being On the Road, dreamed of living the life of an itinerant artist. Dreamed of uniting with my peers in common desire for a more perfect world. I sipped the coffee and lived in that old romanticism for a little while. Continue reading “The Fear of Fainting Goats”

Yet Another Plea Of Love

This is not the way that I want to see the world. In fear of the political system, in hatred for the people who don’t see things as I do, in shame that I have never been able to make any great positive change in society, in grief that I can never find a way to help. I guess I have no idea how the world works.

But I know how I work. I know when I am compassionate and loving and open and fearless then my life fills with joy. I see clouds outside the window of the plane and I am forever connected to the eons of humans who were never able to see the clouds. I am connected to a majesty and magnificence in the moment. My eyes fill with the deep red light on the top of the cloud bank. I see for all those who never saw, and for those who have yet to see. Continue reading “Yet Another Plea Of Love”

To Washington, With Love

I’m in Upstate New York this week, and the ground is wet, the sky silky and grey. Last night it rained, and we headed into a restaurant dodging the spouts of rainwater coming off the old buildings. Today, the morning is still and cold. I love how heavy the sky is here, like a blanket, muffling sound. Little brown birds are going crazy in the bare branches of the yard, and their movement flies incongruent with the stillness everywhere else. A fat red cardinal perches in a tall tree, reminding my rods and cones of their purpose. At 12:30, there will be a window of no rain, and I’ll walk into the little town, sneak glances into windows, maybe sit and have a cup of coffee and then head back to this cozy little house for a peaceful day of tea and kitties and my dear friend.

This Saturday at 2AM, we’ll board a bus to Washington, heading to the march there. Months ago, when it was announced, I knew I would attend. I grew up seeing images of the great civil rights marches of the 1960s, and saw how their power changed the world. When I see the footage of Martin Luther King speaking, I have always imagined that if I had been living at that time, I would have been there. How would I feel now if I had had the chance to participate in that moment of hope and hadn’t been there? When the Women’s March was announced, I imagined seeing it unfold on television, in San Francisco, and could feel how I would regret not being there. So I made plans to come out. Continue reading “To Washington, With Love”

Majority of One

My first weekend back from the holiday was cold and rainy and the weather was a great excuse to hole up, blankets and pug and books and magazines and tea, so much tea. My favorite kind of weekend. I set off on a two-day journey through ideas and stories, listening to podcasts, reading and writing. Making sure the pug had a good nest on the couch, his warm little body reminding me how long ago, folks used to warm a brick in the fireplace, wrap it in a blanket and put it at the foot of the bed on cold nights. I guess you could say I lived a one-dog night, all weekend.

What a luxury, to spend this time in a flight of thought through time and space. I’ve always loved reading so much. Falling into other people’s stories on a rainy afternoon is a lovely dream. I love the still bell of the quiet room, the sound of the dripping San Francisco day outside the window, the snoring pug a rumbling soundtrack. A cocoon of warmth and peace. I closed my eyes several times and wished this feeling into the world. Continue reading “Majority of One”

Lessons in Gospel

I saw the documentary about Mavis Staples last night, Sunday night of the Thanksgiving weekend. You can’t help but be struck by her joyful energy. How amazing she is, finding her calling so early in life. How amazing to have been born into a family who nurtured her gift. How amazing to have been part of a moment in history when her words were used to inspire a movement, to help change society. How amazing to walk through the world in love with it. How amazing the power of music to unify.

There was a line in the movie that I was very moved by. Her father, Pops Staples, says:

Gospel ain’t nothing but the truth and we’re telling the truth in our songs. That’s what I’m so proud of. For the last two years we’ve been singing message songs. The Staple Singers thing is to sing love, peace and freedom. And we feel that when we sing the truth, it doesn’t make any difference what kind of beat it has and all, it’s still gospel. Continue reading “Lessons in Gospel”

What Lies Below: America and The Great Dissolvent

When I sit in meditation, I fall into a stillness that is a wide, expanded, infinite space. My awareness falls down, underneath the the rushing tumult of the mind and its thoughts. As I fall, I look back and see the underside of these thoughts, a rushing current on the surface of what I call Myself. When I detach from the thoughts, when I just observe them but don’t react, I fall beneath them, where it’s quiet.

Further I drop, and now the body feels porous. My breath moves beyond the edges of my skin and any pain or sensation detaches from my identity, and I just observe. I fall beneath sensation. Now I am in stillness, and I just receive. I just observe. I see how emotions rise and fall. Hatred, anger, shame, fear. I see them tense the body, I see them sicken and churn, tighten and wrack and ache, and then they pass through. When they leave, I am again left with peace. Continue reading “What Lies Below: America and The Great Dissolvent”

Election Eve

They band around me,
First birthday cake,
First daughter,
First grandchild,
First niece.
Matching stripes,
pastel and white,
faces bright with occasion
as children we are.
Aunts and uncles
ringed by biology,
resemblance caught
in a snapshot of smiles. Continue reading “Election Eve”

Of Math and Machines

Today I will write of the ridiculous ideas that I secretly don’t think ridiculous. Ideas about which I am laughably inarticulate, but for which I feel compelled to flail about to find words. Next week, I promise, back to meditations on music.

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How about if I lose my ego entirely. Fall into the true self, the infinite consciousness that animates this Clementine, that which watches. How about if every time someone hurts me, I feel a wide expansive love. If there is no ego, then what is there to harm? What is there to risk when there is no fear or shame?

How about if we just recognize every human as light and love. Mother Teresa said: if you want to see the face of God, look at the person next to you. Continue reading “Of Math and Machines”

Your Brain on Drums: The Practical Application of Meditation in Drumming

I sit in the meditation hall, propped up with various blue beanbags, but this doesn’t stop the pain. It’s pretty much the same every time I sit. After some amount of time, my right hip develops a dull ache through the inner thigh, radiating to my big leg muscle and then down to the knee, up and over then down the inside of my shin and then to the group of nerves that pool beneath my inner ankle. I’m here to watch, not react. I am just a witness, a witness to pain, a witness to lack of pain. I’m to keep an equanimity towards either. Eventually, the point is to discover that this equanimity translates to every situation in my life. I have already seen it happen.

But as I sit here, the pain gets stronger. Just observe, just observe. It’s one of the three one-hour sits per day in which I’m to have a strong determination not to move a muscle. I’m putting my awareness at the top of my head and then following it down through my body to my toes and then back up. I’m observing the sensations on my body, good and bad, pain and no pain. Just observe, don’t react. Next time I come back to this thigh muscle the sensation may be totally different. Maybe next time it will be a throbbing, or shooting, or burning pain. Not this tight ache. Continue reading “Your Brain on Drums: The Practical Application of Meditation in Drumming”