Zen Cat Art

Journey...

Several Saturdays ago some friends and I went to a retreat center in my town called Wisdom House.  It belongs to the Daughters of Wisdom and was once a thriving community of Catholic sisters. Now it is an interfaith retreat and conference center which offers courses in a variety of spiritual paths. 

They have a labyrinth on their beautiful fifty-plus acres and I go up and walk it fairly often—it somehow quiets the mind and opens the heart.

 

Now the labyrinth is covered with snow but we were there to open our hearts in another way.  We were taking a course on an Introduction to Islam taught by Sohaib N. Sultan, a Muslim Chaplain and a contributing writer for the www.onedialog.com website. 

Living most of my life on Long Island I was raised in the “Catholic, Protestant, Jewish” melting pot of east coast middle America. I was considered radical when I took up Theravadan Buddhism in the 70's.  When I traveled in India (a trip of a lifetime in May 2006), I visited my first Mosque but I really only knew a smattering about the religion.

Here was a chance to learn.  The course covered a lot in a short six hours—including history, theology, ethics, and spirituality of the world’s second largest religion.  Sohaib was a wonderful teacher.  He took the twenty of us on a spiritual journey into a strange yet familiar land.  (Islam is one of the Abrahamic religions; it shares similarities with Judaism and Christianity.)

What touched me most about  

Sohaib’s story about making his Hajj—the pilgrimage to Mecca required of all Muslim's once in their lifetime.  I do not pretend to know any more about it than Sohaib's personal story and admit my interpretation of that story comes through my own filters.

 

He said that while making the pilgrimage there is a prohibition against anger, even against annoyance, when you walk between the mountains as Muhammad did on his journey nearly 1400 years ago.  If someone steps on your foot and you feel angry and want to step on his—you have lost your pilgrimage.  If you kill a mosquito in anger, you have lost your pilgrimage.  So here you have to walk most of the day with millions of other pilgrims (approximately 2 million people made the trek in 2007—which has caused its own problems) in the hot sun and keep your focus on turning your will over to Allah.  No easy task.

 

I could only think of my days at the Insight Meditation Center in Barre, Massachusetts in the seventies when I spent two weeks in total silence learning the Theravadan Buddhist practice of Vipassana meditation.  The center was in an old monastery that previously housed Benedictine brothers.

 

At the beginning of the course we were asked to embrace the five precepts (codes of conduct) which included “To refrain from harming any living, sentient beings — not to kill or intentionally hurt any person or creature, even an insect.”  And I had arrived at the mosquito capital of the world “in season.”

I lost my meditataion retreat at least twice a day.  I blamed it on the mosquito.  I blamed it on being there in June.  Others blamed it on the food, or their meditation cushions and some even blamed it on the stained glass window of Jesus and Mary in the anteroom to the meditation hall.  They pointed out the offending window and the staff covered it with a black cloth closing off the cheerful colored light that filtered through the window in the early morning.  When others complained about the offending black cloth, it was taken down and another cloth was hung down the center of the anteroom so that you could choose to enter the hall on one side or another—seeing the window or not.  How easy it was to divide people—even people who had come seeking peace.

 

My good friend, Tai Chi Teacher and Zen master (although he would deny the honorific title, I present it to him anyway), Roger Sencer, once told me—when I was struggling with focus in my meditation practice—that it didn’t matter what I thought the problem was, in the end it was me struggling against myself.

All in all, it seems to me we are more alike than we are different.  Maybe it doesn’t matter whether we are walking to Mecca, sitting on meditation cushions, or kneeling in church.  Maybe is it in the reaching out for something larger than ourselves, something that holds a greater meaning, something that will bring us peace—maybe that will bring us together and let us keep our pilgrimage.

“Man need only divert his attention from searching for the solution to external questions and pose the one, true inner question of how he should lead his life, and all the external questions will be resolved in the best possible way.”
~Leo Tolstoy

Shoveling Snow with Buddha...

Shoveling Snow with Buddha ~ by Billy Collins

In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok
you would never see him doing such a thing,
tossing the dry snow over a mountain
of his bare, round shoulder,
his hair tied in a know,
a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word
for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.
In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?
Is this not implied by his serene expression,
that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down the driveway,
one shovelful at a time.
We toss the light powder into the clean air.
We feel the cold mist on our faces.
And with every heave we disappear
and become lost to each other
in these sudden clouds of our own making
these fountain-bursts of snow.

This is so much better than a sermon in church,
I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.
This is the true religion, the religion of snow,
and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,
I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

He has thrown himself into shoveling snow
as if it were on purpose of exhistence,
as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway
you could back the car down easily
and drive off into the vanities of the world
with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

All morning long we work side by side,
me with my commentary
and he inside his generous pocket of silence,
until the hour is nearly noon
and the snow is piled high all around us;
then I hear him speak.

After this, he asks,
can we go inside and play cards?

Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk
and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table
while you shuffle the deck.
And our boots stand dripping by the door.

Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes
and leaning for a moment on his shovel
before he drives the thin blade again
deep into the glittering white snow.

Play...

We don't play enough.  And sometimes when we do we feel guilty about it.  At least that's the way it works for me. 

Working freelance I can arrange my days to go for a walk when I want to or run down to the optometrist when I've broken my glasses (today).  I can sit and read after lunch without a boss looking over my shoulder but if it's 10:30 at night and something has to be done for a client, then I'm sitting at the computer working. 

Saturdays fill up with errands and maintenance and although it can be a really satisfying day for accomplishments it can't hold a candle to a fun-filled, guilt-free, I don't-care-how-it-turns-out, I'm-going-to-enjoy-myself-kind-of-play-day!  AND if you can find a friend to join you - that can be the recipe for a double whammy good time. 

My recent play day involved driving down to the CT shore to see my girlfriend, Robin.   

Robin and I have been friends for a long time. We can finish each other's sentences, wave our arms in the air and be understood without words, enjoy doing lots of the same things, rarely take offense and generally think the best of each other.  As the kindergarten teachers say - we play well together. 

And also, although not necessary for everyones play days, as an extra bonus for us, our husbands get along really well.  Politico and history buffs they can talk about Harry Truman for hours.

There are many ingredients involved in a perfect play day and here are a few of ours. 

Anticipation is key.  Conversations will include phrases like "ooh, yeah, lets do that" and "I'll bring my..." and "I got some new... I'll bring it with me."  All this adds up to arriving with 6 bags, only one of them filled with clothes for our overnight stay. 

Some of those bags will be filled with show and tell of your latest creations.

My charmed watch.

   

And Robins wonderful cat cameo that I received as a gift!  Lucky me!

There should be ingredients that inspire.  Paper and paint, books and magazines, yarn and ribbon, bits and pieces, scraps and treasures.  You know what they are.  They are the things that you can't wait to share. 

There are some extras that add to the enjoyment.  Some good food should be involved.  Wine can be a nice touch, especially if it makes you silly... 

For us chocolate and coffee are essential--tea and cookies a lovely adder. 

Mix in good conversation, the willingness to share, an appreciation for the absurd and it's a formula for success.

Sprinkle in a liberal dash of friendship and Enjoy!

What did we make?  Ah, that's for a future blog entry... 

Happy Valentine's Day Everyone!

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                    i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~ee commings

I carry each one of you in my heart!  I am so glad each one of you is in my life.  Thank you for being my friends!

Love,  Cat

My New Car...

I wasn't sure how to title this blog: My Terrific Kids, How Cool is This?, OMG, You won't believe it!, Jumping for joy!

In the end I decided to tell the story just as it happened.  My son Jimmy and his wife Tracy (the daughter of my heart) and my two grandchildren were visiting North Carolina.  I offered to feed their sweet new kitty, Jodie.  Jodie is incredibly affectionate and wanted to be rubbed even before being fed. 

After we put down her food and fresh water I opened the envelope that was left on the counter for me. 

I thought it was going to be new drawings from Michael and Hannah for my refrigerator - which we affectionately call "gallery de la grandkid."  Among items in the envelope, which didn't make sense, was a card which I quickly opened.   

After reading the first line, I immediately burst into tears.  Poor Phil thought something bad might have happened and Jodie jumped up on the counter to rub against me to show her concern.  When I could talk, I could only say "Oh my God, They gave me a car, they gave me a car." 

I turned the envelop onto the counter and there lay the title, a gift declaration for the DMV and two car keys.  What incredible kids!  What an incredible surprise!   And so needed.  My old Volvo is belching fumes and needs so much work we weren't sure if it would be worth fixing.

The phone call to the kids was mostly joyful tears.  Tracy said they didn't want to make a big deal out of it but it was a big deal for me.  And I couldn't be more grateful! 

Jodie was so glad when I stopped crying and got back to the business of showering affection on her. 

We stopped at a local coffee shop on the way home and I admired my car from the window. 

I ask you.  Just how great is that?

I think her name is Sue.  Her middle name is Beatrix.  And her last name is Rhu. 

Sue B. Rhu... 

What stops you?

Some days you’ve just had enough.  Yesterday was like that for me.  By mid-afternoon nothing was going right.  I usually have enough endorphins to carry me a few extra to pass around but yesterday my endorphin account was bankrupt.  My warm fuzzies had cooled down to at best a tepid blah. 

I figured I better get out of the house before I infected everyone, including the cats with a bad case of woe is me.  My place to gain perspective is the nature preserve about three miles from our house. 

The walk I take is a two mile loop which includes a boardwalk that goes out over the water.  It’s my favorite part of the walk and it always raises my spirits.  Even on raw damp days like yesterday it makes me feel better. 

Mist and fog hung in the grey air.  When I was about half way out over the pond – I was stopped by the water which had risen over the boardwalk.  I went as far as I could go and stood there.  It was me and a lone seagull for quite a while when I heard footsteps approaching. 

A woman was heading my way and when she was in range we exchanged pleasantries about the beauty of the winter landscape, the changes in the weather and possibilities of an early spring.   Finally, I lamented the impassibility of the flooded boardwalk. 

She smiled at me and with a shrug of her shoulder said, “I try not to let the little things stop me.”  And with that she passed me by and continued on her journey stepping through the water.  

“I should have brought my boots,” I called after her—offering my excuse for not following her.   

“Yeah,” she called back, “my socks are wet.”  But she never broke stride and I watched her as she rounded the bend and headed on her way disappearing into the mist.

I was standing out there because I had let some little things stop me.  The problems that felt like boulders that I was pushing up hill—were starting to look more like pebbles.  I couldn’t imagine why I thought they were insurmountable.

If you really wanted to do something, it might involve getting your feet wet, but was that really all that bad? Hell no, I thought and headed home to get my feet wet in my own projects that needed just a bit more determination to get them going. 

I’m glad the woman had enough determination to keep going on her walk—watching her gave me a boost for my own journey.   

Cabin Fever Remedy

The last day of January.  Lots of gray days, lots of snow.  Working in our house all day.  Cabin Fever!

Sometimes you just can't stay inside a moment longer. 

I can make a production out of leaving the house and that's just to make a trip to the post office.  When we made the decision for our impromptu trip this morning we were gone like the wind. 

Our first stop was for breakfast at the only place within 20 miles that sells a NY style bagel.   

Yummy!  And their coffee is great, as well.

Then it was into Great Barrington and our favorite used book store - Yellow House Books. 

They have a wonderful white cat that lives there, "Precious," who greets all the guests and will purr up a storm if you pet her.  But by the time I thought about taking her picture she was asleep under the front counter and did not want to be disturbed.

I never seem to be able to pass up the cooking or philosophy sections.  I brought home a small book on Zen meditation from 1953 that has English on left side of the page and Japanese characters on the right.  After I cherish it for a while, it just might wind up in a piece of art.  I've been thinking about doing another altered book.

From there is was into Rubiner's cheese shop.  The building was once a bank and the open vault still inhabits the back wall. 

So many wonderful cheeses to choose from!  We finally selected a Montgomery Cheddar from England and a slice of quince paste to eat with it (they call the combination Romeo and Juliet in Portugal), some Italian salami and creamy goat cheese with shaved white truffle on the top. And a tiny package of macroon cookies.   

Can life get any better?

Around the corner and up the street, past my second favorite Japanese restaurant, Bizen and into Crystal Essence and friendly New Age store with everything from singing bowls to Buddhas.

   We found a calendar with photographs by Knox, a man who photographs feral cats that live behind his recording studio.  He has done a wonderful book Urban Tails (there is an amazon link on the right) and he donates the money from the book and his photographs to care for them and local spay and neuter programs.  I'm so glad we bought it!

Then across the street to jws art supplies for charcoal pencils and some hand made computer paper.  On the way we passed a flower box filled with bright green and yellow plastic flowers covered with glitter.  Think they are wishing for spring?

It was enough for one day and we still had two important stops on the way out of town. 

The one stop that I always make a a market just outside of Great Barrington proper. Guido's is the closest I can get to Balducci's without going to NY City.  Part gourmet market, half natural food store, fresh seafood, meat, wine section and wonderful prepared food.  Its delightful staff includes the owner who can be found ringing or bagging groceries when things get busy.  We loaded our cart with the fish of the day - pecan crusted tilapia to fry up for dinner.

The last stop was to an antique store I've always wanted to stop into.  The never seem to be open!  Today was no exception!     

I was so disappointed to find the door locked.  I just knew there would be amazing goodies inside.  I guess it will have to wait for the next trip. The picture only shows a fraction of the yard which is stacked with windows and doors, bird houses by the hundreds and signs everywhere.  Including a few that said "no photography." I'm hoped they were there for sale and not as a warning as clicked my camera and we sped away.

So if you are suffering from cabin fever and need a day away give me a call and we'll go to GB for the day and have an adventure.  I'll even introduce you to Precious the book store cat.