Answers From My Buddha

I am normally very reticent to blog anything about my son, who I'll call The Buddha (his dad calls him that sometimes, it's not a reference to Five Corners). I'm pretty reticent for him to have any kind of virtual life, because, at the age of three, he has no control over it. However, he spoke the truth yesterday, so I'm writing it here.

My friend The Goddess Devi has been having some troubles of late. Most goddesses, and literary heroes for that matter, have to go on an involved series of adventures or a quest in order to become the king of their own lives. They have to fight their way out of their father's head, or figure a way in and out of Hades. They have to suck all the blood out of the demon Raktabija. In The Goddess Devi's case, they have to go live with their parents while they await, have, and recuperate from surgery, and life goes into a numbing stasis that breeds uncertainty, doubt, and an increasing suspicion that doom lives in Toronto.

So The Buddha and I were playing with his toy trains yesterday afternoon, and since he has a talent for knowing what's bothering people and animals, I said to him "Buddha's name here, is there anything I can do to help The Goddess Devi that I haven't thought of?" And without looking up from the wooden tracks he said "Um, give her medicine, and music, and books, and Sesame Street. That's all anyone ever needs."

TGD, an email package is on the way. Buddha, thank you for being the Universe, and for being you.

Post 100

"When a question is posed ceremoniously, the universe responds."

--Chinese Proverb. Came across it noodling around online today.

Here we are at the 100th post, and I've been blogging here for just over a year. Since I promised to not only pose questions to the Universe, but also post the results, here are a few.

The blog was a good idea.

He's gone, but he's been right here the whole time, and I know it now.

Sometimes poetry actually helps.

Jenny just moved to Italy.

And I am now singing and doing yoga and jewelry-making, all the things I wanted to do and couldn't figure out how to do them. I've managed to drop the veil of the 'how' and just 'do,' and that took alot of help.

What has thrilled me most is other people asking to post here. It is a growing group belief, or at least hope, that throwing a bottle with a message in it can change something. You can call that speaking your piece, or speaking your peace, or the law of attraction, or prayer, or whatever else you want. What has thrilled me is what people want -- health, peace, purpose, understanding, an end to conflict, for themselves and for others. To put it in the ground.

I've moved into the thinking of our generation's only brilliant popular philosopher to date, Yoda, who said it best. Do, or do not. There is no try.

I've learned only one thing, really, and that's that all of the questions I could ever ask here have already been answered. It's a matter of who said it in the way I can hear it. I'm working on improving my hearing, so the method matters less.

Be well, thank you for reading,

Jen

Guest Post From Mr. E

Here goes:

"A friend of mine just moved home. At least back to his home town. He got a job supposedly in his field, but finds himself dong all the grunt work and none of the things he went to school or trained for many years to do. He's pretty miserable about it because what was supposed to be a creative position has turned into a job plugging numbers and doing exactly what his boss wants with no input from his part.

On the social front, he's tried to connect with his old friends since moving back, but they've moved on with their lives over the year and a half he was out of town. They've gotten married, had kids, moved away, or have settled into a conservative lifestyle that has no room for him. He's working a lot and has no time to meet girls, so he languishes coming home late from work tired and playing video games to fill the time before he crashes out on his couch.

He's tried looking for a less demanding job, and he's tried to reach out to his old friends which are his only connection to the town( His parents moved out years ago) but he's sinking into a distinct depression and frustration.

He wants to throw everything away, move again, start over, but I keep telling him that if he can't make the changes in himself where he is, he won't make the changes whereever he moves. He may be in the same situation with even less connection.

I want him to get his job situation fixed, and figure out his social situation. I want his old friends to be more open and recognize that he's back. 'd like him to be able to find the friends he needs and to be able to build a happy life He's one of my best friends, and on the phone sometimes he sounds like he's losing it with depression. If I lived closer, I would help, but I'm not able to.I'm asking the universe to help him out. "

Go, Universe, Go!

Guest Post: Faith With No Fear, Please

A guest post from the lovely and talented JP! With an addendum, no less! Because I should have posted this like a month ago and lost the original email! Yay!:

"I have been thinking hard about what I would ask for from the universe. I have been surprised because the answer does not automatically come.

"In giving it so much thought I have made an alarming discovery. I am smart. I have a wonderful husband, a delightful dog, remarkably talented and supportive friends, I am close to finishing my master's degree (something I have wanted for a long time), The people in my inner circle are, for the most part, happy, healthy and free, and yet, I am often at a loss for faith.

"I realized that I don't know what to ask the universe for because I don't feel like I deserve to ask for anything. Isn't that just the worst thing you have ever heard? I am so lucky in my life and yet I am so scared of the future. I want so much and yet I worry that I haven't earned the right to ask for any of it. Somewhere along the way I learned that life is supposed to be difficult and challenging and that blood, sweat and tears is the only way to get results. I have spent a lot of my adult life not trying because if you never try you can't really fail.

"So here it is.

"I want to ask the Universe for faith in my own future.

"I don't want to be scared of what comes next because I don't want to find myself too scared to pursue my dreams fully. I want children. I want to make a living doing what I love. I don't want to make compromises that give me excuses for settling for less. I don't want to look back in ten years and have regrets about what I did with my time. And most importantly, I don't want to waste any more time worrying that I might not achieve all of the things I just listed.

"So there you go, my friend with the ear of the universe...... faith with no fear please."

And the addendum:

While reading your return to the blogoverse, I dug up my "ask the universe" piece to re-send you. I have attached it below..... BUT interestingly.... in the world of sort-of-success-stories, I think it would be prudent to also include that the following things have happened to me since I came to California three weeks ago (now the proud holder of a masters degree)..... I received a letter from the chair of the Brooklyn College Theatre Department telling me that I have been recommended by the department to be an Adjunct Lecturer in Theatre for the fall semester... AND it looks like I will be teaching two or three workshop classes in period acting styles for a summer theatre program for teens run out of Queensborough Community College when I get back to NYC in July. Way to go Universe!

---
Exclamation point mine. I love you, JP.

Peace,

Jen

The Yawp Gets Returned

A beautiful gift came into my email inbox this morning. It is a gift to PB from a fellow traveler, a gift to you, and certainly a gift to me because I'm still fighting a bad cold and can't get my whoses and whatsis together enought to write anything intelligent, plus the cold medicine makes me feel like I'm typing with my elbows. It is a rumination from my beloved RR, and reminded me that in additional to all the other logical magic she brings to me on a regular basis, she's a knockout of a writer.

The open call still stands, folks, and it has resulted in at least one other guest post that I'm hoping will be ready to go up by tomorrow. Be well.

-----

From MBRR:

Having been in PB's shoes, or at least similar places of flux, at various times in my life, I can understand what she is going through. Closing your eyes and taking a giant leap of faith to change your life always has repercussions, but unfortunately they aren't always the one's we think they will be when our feet first leave the ground. When those repercussions turn out to be not what you planned, it can make you want to shake your fist at the universe. Come on, universe! You want to say, I did the hard part already! I made the decision. I landed here. Now it is your turn to bring serendipity to my side. Consciousness and mindfulness, rather than acquiescence to the status quo brought me this far, now I should be rewarded for my bravery. Shouldn't I?

I have been contemplating this question in particular for the last several days because I too recently made a decision to take my life in a certain direction, one that I felt was right in my gut. Yet I have been faced with the harsh reality that the universe has more or less taken my decision and thrown it back in my face. For 3 days I have been railing inside- my thoughts black and spiteful and unproductive. Ef you, universe- and Ef your mother, too! I have been eaten by the unfairness of it all. Everyone, and I mean everyone I know agreed that the decision to do a PhD was the right one for me. People who have known me a long time said they always thought that I would, and wondered why it took me so long to figure it out. People at my job said absolutely. It is the right path for you. Academics told me I was a virtual shoe-in, what with my experience, grades, and knowledge. I was a rare candidate, indeed. Universities would probably throw money at me and beg me to come study. And so I was sure. My gut told me it was the right way to go. And I had external validation and support for my decision. What other signs could there have been, or could I have read? And yet, here I am. 3 out of 4 applications rejected. One more pending and not a shoe-in or a sure thing by any means.

And so while I wait for magic #4, I have been forced to deal with the question that I really never thought would come up. What will I do if I don't get in? Some people have suggested that I wait and re-apply next year. This seems to be how the game of graduate school gets played these days. And re-applying may be a test from the universe about how loud my gut was really speaking to me. If it is the right path, the universe seems to be saying, you can wait. And yet, I can't. Maybe others can, but I cannot. I went through a huge amount of personal upheaval to arrive at this decision, and I am just about worn out. Doing the PhD was to be the new path, the one I chose after almost 2 years of hard soul searching and heart wrenching decisions of all kinds. It was to be the answer I tore the rest of my life apart looking to find. Now I just don't have the stamina to wait another year, and go through another round of applications, to have it come out wrong all over again. I just don't think I have it in me.

Nevertheless, once I decided that the PhD was the path I wanted, I came to see it as not just the answer to what I would do, but the answer in some way to who I am. For the last year, since I decided that it is what I would do, I have held the decision and the idea of it close to my chest, and defended it as a part of my identity- the true identity I had been growing into for all these years. My chance to become the woman I always knew I could be. And in the waiting, I have gone into some dark places. Each rejection a personal affront, and my life hanging before me like a butterfly inside a cocoon, doomed to be forever unrealized.

Today though, I realized something for the first time. Whether I do or whether I don't get accepted, a PhD is not who I am. I am not the sum total of the knowledge I possess, the opportunities I have been given, the rejections I have received. I am also not how I look on paper; I am not the deficiencies on my resume, nor the antithesis to those who have gotten what I wanted. I am not the praise I have been given, nor the shock of others who were also convinced I would get in. I am greater than all these things, and all these moments. And I am enough. As I am, with all the knowledge, and experience, and education I already have. I am enough. Somewhere in the universe there is a place for me to pursue and create the life of the butterfly I am capable of becoming. Even if it doesn't turn out to be where and as I, and my gut, thought it should be. All I can do is trust that the universe knows better than I what my fate should be.

So what is it that has tossed around for me about PB's post? I guess it was that I wanted to say to her, let go a little. Desperation won't help, but money is the same color no matter where it comes from. Take a job waiting tables if you have to. Sign up with every temp agency you can find. In desperate times, any job can be the job, until the right one comes. In the meantime, remember that the money that feeds you, isn't who you are. And just to show that I know all this is easier said than done, I once worked folding shirts and greeting customers at The Gap, even though I had a master's degree and 5 years professional experience in my back pocket. I needed money badly, and I couldn't face receiving unemployment. After a month, I left the shirts to start the job that, 7 years later, is my career.

Finally, for both PB and myself, the mantra I have been trying to hold onto in a very uncertain time is a quote from Rilke. "...And for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, in any case."For PB and myself, I sincerely hope we both get what we want, but even if we don't, none of us is only our wishes or desires, realized or not. We exist outside of wanting. And we are enough.

To: Universe, Bees, Rats, et al, By Request

For two friends, by request, the first two lines are taken from the request.

Ask the universe, ask the trees,
and the bees, and the rats in the subway.
Help and hope, seem far away now, faith
as well. A time when all of this made sense
or good copy -- the calendar is resolutely stuck
at today, this day, the pages won't tritely fall away.

And so I ask -- let these two lives be elevated,
like an elevated train, a thing on swooping girders
with sky and tract houses, trees and factory signs
for factories long gone, all around it, a thing that
has come to seem like it only belongs in
a dark tunnel, waiting for the platform,

and the platform after that and that and that.
Let these two lives have beautiful views, somewhere
they want to go, someplace
they want to come home, someone
who welcomes them back, spilling over
with quiet to hear of the days' adventures.

###

Universe, please let the resolution come. They've suffered long enough. What I want here is not important, other than that I want them both to be fulfilled, and whole, and out of pain, whether that is together or apart.

Hey Universe

Anything you can do to get me and my beloved RR here and make the journey a good one will be duly appreciated.

I was thinking about why I want to go. I am a survivor of violence. Many women I love are survivors of violence. Rape is being perpetrated as a war tactic around the world, which is as sickening to me as anyone blowing themselves up, it just doesn't get the same press.

But the real and selfish reason I support all womens' rights to a world without violence is my son. A world where everybody counts, and everyone has basic human rights is a world I want him to live in, and a viewpoint I want him to have. And I know how much more wonderful his life will be if he regards women as equal, and not lesser. I want to be the mom who models that for him, through action, and through deed.

Make Me A Better Communicator, Please and Thank You

This may sounds N-V-T-S nuts from a blogger who works in communications. But when I think of all the things I want most, I really just want to talk to my friends more, and that's the thing I push to the bottom of the to-do list most of the time.

At any rate, I'm listening to ska and avoiding a big writing project, and I'll try to get deeper and wider and brighter and lighter tomorrow. I'll also try to can it with the Cure quotes. Happy Valentine's Day.

Universe, Help Us Help Eachother

Two things.

One.

In the last post I mentioned being the change you want to see in the world. A friend of mine is on the verge of falling in love, and the lucky gentleman is coming to visit her. Her apartment is in an interesting state of flux. She has new sheets, but they're still in the box. Framed paintings, but they're sitting on the floor. I felt with great certainty that her home should be beautiful and finished, now. It was hard to tell her that, because I felt like it was none of my business. I offered to paint, then to put together a party where all her friends got together and finished her apartment in one day. She said it was the nicest thing ever. I said, no, it's not. It's friendship. And she said, no, it's love. So of course I'll do it. People have done these things for me, and of course I'll do these things for them. It will be wonderful. It will be unusual. It will be joyful. It will be people painting a house and putting up shelves so our friend can open the door, perhaps, to the love of her life, and be ready. And who knows what will come next as a result. It is worth mentioning that this is the same friend who has given me free office space, and put me in touch with the company that gave me my new and fabulous job. So of course I'll do it, and so happily.

Two.

I get very frustrated by Hollywood and the media (and sometimes by blogs) because it can feel like I have no control over whose personality I have to deal with every day, even though I don't know these people. If Britney Spears had keys to my apartment, I'd have my locks changed and call the cops. I'd also call her mother and delicately suggest rehab and a psych consult, because to my relatively uniformed eye, she looks like a drug addict self-medicating for any number of psychological conditions.

So now Heath Ledger is dead. Talented, young, and apparently a drug addict. That really sucks. What sucks more, and sucks every time I hear about a young and talented person injecting themselves into the hereafter, is that they died before they got the help they needed. And what sucks when I hear about musicians in their 50s who did drugs for 30 years suddenly dying of cancer or heart failure or what have you, nobody actually says, hmmm, maybe the drugs wore out your body and your ability to fight off disease.

I have great sympathy for anyone with a drug or alcohol problem, whether they are able to help themselves or not. I have deep problems with the media for publicizing the 'wacky' or 'car-wreck' behavior of people who are clearly addicts and need help. And I have deep problems with partiers and sychophants who create and maintain a sick environment, who don't do everything they can to help a known addict.

May you all be surrounded by friends who want the best for you and will do what they can to make your life the best. May you all be those kind of friends. May you help me, and may I help you.

The (Overwrought, Overdiscussed) Butterfly Effect

Since we're nearing the end of the year I thought I'd go back over these posts and see how things have transpired since I picked up the megaphone of this blog and started shouting into the dark heavens.

I took another look at post#1, Universe Please Help Me Find A Name for This Blog (with apologies to RG who made it very clear he never again wants to read about just what Judy Blume helped me find. I owe him a nice, calming post about baseball.)

What struck me most is that I had totally forgotten the incident in the bar that had led me to start blogging in the first place. Some strangers told me a couple of small stories and nudged me in another direction, one I wanted to go in but just didn't have the map to. And if it hadn't been recorded here, I'd have forgotten all about it.

A good friend of mine recently went through a bad breakup. She said a story I'd told her ten years ago about my breakup with my first love helped her, as did other stories she'd heard about breakups. This was her first real breakup with a longtime love. She said having no experience at this, all these stories prepared her, and she leaned on them, thinking about how her friends had felt and how they'd gotten though it, and it helped her follow a path that others had already walked.

I guess what I'm learning is that life is not a series of big dramatic moments. It's a constant weaving of thousands of threads. You're weaving other people's lives without even knowing it.

The love I have for Owen, my friend who died years ago, still reverberates even though he's not here to tease me about it. After a very bad recent day, when I only saw my badness and all the reasons why the couple of people I know are angry with me right now absolutely should be, and I said "I don't think I can handle this pain anymore," well, there he was. I came home from my evening class and sitting in the lobby of my building were a few true-crime novels. (One of the things I've come to love about my building is the neighbors leave books and magazines for eachother). At the top was Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Owen's favorite contemporary book and one I've never read. I'm reading it. And all the things I loved about him -- his humor, his warmth, his sense of the absurd and of the good -- are still right here in the world and even in this book with its strange blend of lurid and lovable. And of course I can take any pain there is to be doled out.

Insert Mary Tyler Moore Theme Here

Personally, I adore the Husker Du version. But, in a word, love is all around. I've spoken to five of my favorite women in the last 36 hours, and I'm struck by how many more people I could easily put among my favorite people. I have been, in so many ways, a big jerk about letting in the many people who would be so happy to be here, and in return I've been nowhere for them. So, I'd like that to change, starting. . . . . . . now.

Tiny little miracles

1) My computer rose from the dead this morning, bowed low at the waist and tap danced around the room. While it was making me some tea in an elaborate ceremony, the doorbell rang and the new battery for it came. The computer clicked its heels in glee. After two hours on the phone with (remarkably nice and helpful) Dell tech support people on Friday, who had me do everything short of attaching jumper cables to the laptop and starting it off the engine of my car, I'm in genuine shock that flipping the on switch this morning actually worked.

2) I may have an opportunity to periodically go to London for work, neatly and shockingly solving the problem of how I am ever going to see my best friend from childhood who lives two hours from London by train. Even the possibility of this blows my mind. Who ever actually gets what they want? Me?

3) In the debacle following the computer's three days on the slab (I guess it's Happy Easter for the computer), my fabulous Andrea offered me the use of her home office, which I am going to take her up on starting this week. This is another one of those unbelievably lucky and generous happenstances -- I really need to work somewhere other than my house with the working husband next to me at least some of the time, and I would not be able to afford an office space on my own.

4) We loaned a friend of ours a chunk of money several months ago when they couldn't make their rent. We later told the friend they didn't need to pay us back. Genuinely felt that way. Said friend has since gotten lucrative work and not only wants to pay us back but offered to help us start a college fund for our son and make sure our investments line up. Said friend is in finance industry. Said friend rocks.

5) I stopped drinking coffee this weekend after having food poisoning Friday night and figuring that it might be a good time to clean the slate of abusing my body, mainly with caffeine and sugar. The miracle part of this is by taking vitamin supplements and sleeping when I needed to, I somehow never turned into the Jabberwocky nor ate my friends and family whole in one big gulp.

Til later.

Honey, I'm home

And have been for three weeks. Vacation was wonderful; I'll be blogging about some of the major events here in the next week or so. Since getting back I've been catching up with work, dealing with various welcome-to-winter ailments of everybody in my house and going slowly insane as a result of communications breakdowns. Both between me and other people, and actual breakdowns of my email server and cell phone.

Before I left on vacation, I blogged a bit here and there about a friendship that had stopped working long ago and had many things left unsaid. I had a long meditation/prayer session where I asked for the friend in question to be freed from what I perceived as an overarching state of anger that has been holding them back in life. I asked for their happiness. I asked for them not to be held back by what happened between us. I asked for them to come to some understanding of my side of things.

Careful what you wish for. I'm still glad that, within a week, the wheels were set in motion for all of those above things to begin to happen. I just wish clearing the air felt less like a baseball bat to the skull. This is some really dense and painful air.

I don't want to disrupt this person's privacy, so this is the last I'm going to discuss it here, but I felt it was important in the context of what I'm trying to do here to mention that I'm still having alot of trouble with this lesson, and I think it's an important one, that I don't get to be exempt from the workings of the universe and if I'm going to ask for things, the universe looks like it's going to make damn sure I participate, even if I'm picked last and the uniform is a really ugly color.

Be well, more tomorrow.

Yay, Or Who Am I To Know What I Need

I got back in touch with an old friend from college yesterday and we've been pelting eachother with emails like it's a snowball fight. Now that the flurry is dying down, I wondered rather stupidly -- did I ask for this? Did I need this? I know I never sat in meditation and said "Hey, universe, can you make sure so-and-so gets my email address?" But another little window of joy in my heart just creakily slid open, so I'm just going to say yay.

Another thing. I was writing my friend about recent travels and I found myself saying "You know, we go to San Francisco every year to visit family and friends and after that it's hard to travel anywhere. Well, we do visit family at the Jersey Shore every year. And in Vermont. And last year we stayed on a houseboat in Paris for two weeks, but that was just an opportunity that came up to celebrate my friend's birthday."

Here I am, judging my own fantastic experiences, because they just sort of happened to me as opposed to me getting to plan them. I'm complaining about my own serendipity; I'm complaining about my good fortune; I'm complaining about, perhaps, the gifts I'm being given by the universe.

I'm like this with everything. It is very stupid. I shall stop now.

And should you ever get to stay in a houseboat on the Seine, pack sweaters and cough syrup, it gets bone crushingly cold at night. Sometimes the heat won't work and then the most gorgeous strapping blond electrician in the known universe will show up on his moped and fix it for you, which ain't so bad. Oh, and also, enjoy every damn minute of it.