Embrassez votre été invincible!

Outside my front door in beautiful Upstate New York on January 21, 2014,
on a welcome sunny winter day.

It's once again that time of year where the perception on the part of most is that the winter season has dragged on too long, been too cold and generally too much; the key word in that statement being, of course, "perception."

Though we in upstate New York are nowhere near the empirical "depths of winter," (despite the occasional nor'easter tail end of frigid air) it certainly feels as though that is the case: the ongoing lack of consistent bright daylight, fluctuating temperatures, and a general malaise have many of us feeling a little wintry. Some personal events of the past few weeks, have put yours truly a bit of a funk. But, even in the early-morning/late-evening darkness (some real, but the most dangerously self-imposed), it is important to remember that we, you and I, all hold within us the potential warmth of the invincible summer.

In times like these, I try to focus my mental energies on quotes or mantras that were previously useful in adjusting my mindset to better assist me in barreling through the challenging winter months. One quote, in particular, that I find myself returning to when feeling a little blue (or in today's case, grey), is ironically, from noted Existentialist ("a sense of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless or absurd world.") philosopher and author of The Stranger, Albert Camus:

"O light! This is the cry of all the characters of ancient drama brought face to face with their fate....In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there is in me an invincible summer."

To those who have not read Camus broadly, the use of his lines as inspirational mantra will certainly seem ironic. He remains closely associated with the dark and brooding black-and-white photographs that perpetuated this image of the artist as an "intellectual Frenchman." Despite those iconic photos, Camus' writing does include quite a few nuggets of warmth, as evidenced by the one above.

It is in these recent grey, cold days that it becomes even more important to make the concerted effort to grab that inner light and hug it close! Until the outside world (as accurately communicated by the local news) more closely matches my desired sunny state. By continuing to do one's best to keep the sun inside stoked and burning, hope remains of influencing one's perception of the winter to stir a sunnier disposition, rather than the other way around.

Sitting Day 5: Altar-ations

As I continue to an effort to follow through on my commitment I am doing my best to stay within the "expectations" (that's the "teacher talk" coming out), part of which is the suggestion that establish both a location or corner in your home that will serve as your identified mediation "spot" that promotes a "spirit of dedication."

An important component of this intentionally, clean and spare corner is an altar. Some recommended accouterments to be placed on the altar (which as a member of the life-long Catholic faith feels odd to write here) are incense, pictures, flowers, and maybe a bowel of water--each for a different reason.

For the first four days of the Big Sit I have set up a very simple altar made using a colonial American style bench that my wife had used in the living room of her previous (pre-marital) home. Unable to find incense (without going to a "head shop," a place that would make me extremely uncomfortable) I purchased a lightly scented candle. I had attempted to find some pictures of a Bodhisattva or teacher from he Zen lineage to place on the altar--not to be prayed TO but to reflection on as an example--but unable to do so I placed a picture of the Dalia Llama I had in an old magazine. That was it, for now.

Early this morning before work I stopped at a supermarket for some yogurt for lunch and noticed a medium sized wooden bowl for sale at an inexpensive price, so purchased it. Following school I drove by a local poster shop which was open (it hadn't been earlier in the week) and went in to look around with only the $2.10 I had been able to scrounge up in my car. I though maybe I'd find a single postcard or picture I could place on the altar with the bowl of water. Luckily, I did indeed find two postcards (total price, $2.05) which I bought , placed carefully in my jacket (it was raining out) and headed the remainder of my way home.

I must confess to an odd feeling of satisfaction and anticipation as I placed these objects on the altar and began to consider a sit...

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

"Sit On It"?

"Cunningham, with that Howdy Doody face,
you can only be so tough. But I'll tell you something.
Now, with a little practice, there's always hope."~The Fonz
While my Catholic upbringing (and love of beads and beer) are reminding me subconsciously that this week marks the start of the Lenten season with both Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday, my e-mail from Tricycle Buddhist Review on-line has prompted me to join The Big Sit, online "course" and practice of zazen--sitting meditation in the Zen tradition. The e-mail invite came with a quote from a practitioner citing his desire to "add more discipline to my (his) practice..." This has been an ongoing challenge for me, as I have continued to read and "study" a number of books on Buddhism, but have been unable to build a steady practice of sitting regularly.

Beginning on February 23rd, the Tricycle Community will launch "The Big Sit," a 90-day Zen meditation challenge. While I heave read a number of different books and articles related to more than one subset of Buddhist practice (primarily Tibetan and Zen Buddhism, I currently would best categorize myself as a "non-denominational" explorer of sorts. The overall goal Buddhism (as a whole philosophy) is personal spiritual development in the larger interest of efficiently help all other sentient beings attain this state is an easy one to "buy into," and like most meaningful lifestyles, a challenge in applying completely. Because I am neither a member of a proper sangha nor a steady-enough "sitter," most would probably call me more of a dabbler.

At any rate, I would appreciate any support or suggestions The Big Sit folks might offer, so I've signed on. Hopefully I will be more diligent in reading the daily prompts or reminders than I currently am with those I already receive from both Tricycle and DailyOm.

Who knows, with "a little practice," the down-home wisdom of Arthur Fonzerelli may yet prove true again!

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Move to Action

Here you are reading the words that I have have put to the internet in my home some tens, hundreds (or maybe thousands?) of miles from you. We are in an age of high speed communication, yet some of you may feel (like we all do at some point I suppose) more isolated from your neighbor, your purpose or yourself, than ever. The speed of this communication is no limited to the manner in which we throw words and images out into the void, but also applies to the rate with which we are capable of and "download" into our psyches the possibilities available to us. I'm thinking about all the reading I've been doing of late...

Despite this amazing level of data out there on subjects ranging from "sustainability" to "running" to sitting," I, perhaps like you, continue to operate in a way that belies my desired purpose. I am still limited in my compassion (as demonstrated through my occasionally negative responses to others) and by extension, am not being the best me of which I am capable. This truth makes me feel slightly ashamed. But, like you maybe, I am reading and learning and growing... but eventually the time comes to act.

Someday, the time for typing and moaning and thinking and dreaming comes to a close and the need for action is necessary to contribute to one's growth. In my own experience, running is a good analogy... for a long time I enjoyed watching the Olympics or following road race results in the paper, until at one point, likely because I had a need that had reached a tipping point and just had to be met with equal motivation, I put on a pair of shoes and hit the road. And hit the road and hit the road, until I was ready to fill out a race registration... and then another... and so on.

It's early in the morning here in Upstate New York, and I'm rambling, but there are circumstances in my life which require me to move on from the "Reading & Learning" column into the "Action" column.

How are things with you?

Journey

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion."~His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Everyone once and a while (and with a greater degree of frequency it would appear) I get on these "kicks" during which I'll invest a lot of energy into immersing myself in a writer, theme or concept. This exercise is often precipitated by events in my life, or the world in general. Of late I have (once again) found myself reading and re-reading a number of different commentators on Eastern theology, in particular Buddhism and even more specifically, Tibetan Buddhism and even more specifically, the Kagyu tradition.

These little mental and spiritual jaunts often take me to "new" and "unique" places which are not as "new" or "unique" as one might imagine.

For example, I have been recently reading a new collection of His Holiness the Dalai Lama's writings entitled In My Own Words: An Introduction to My Teachings and Philosophy. This is the fourth book of his that I have read and my eye was drawn to his explanation of different schools of Tibetan Buddhism when it dawned on me that there exists here in my upstate New York city a number of different Buddhist temples which are "dedicated to the transmission of Buddha's teachings and realization to America and is committed to the support of those who seek to walk the Path together," the White Lotus Society.

My running and cycling frequently take me by this unassuming house and though I consider stopping in, have to this point been too nervous... but reading and studying do not seem enough sometimes, leaving me feeling like a visitor to "the rag and bone shop of the heart" or "culture vulture." Maybe I should just stop in...

Wyoming Recollection 4: Shift

"The empty blue sky of space says 'All this comes back
to me, then goes again, and comes back again, then goes again,
and I don't care, it still belongs to me'--
The blue sky adds 'Don't call me eternity, call me God
if you like, all of you talkers are in paradise:
the leaf is paradise, the tree stump is paradise,
the paper bag is paradise, the man is paradise,
the sand is paradise, the sea is paradise, the man is paradise,
the fog is paradise.'"~Jack Kerouac

Almost one week removed from our trip to Cheyenne, Wyoming, and already I feel the energy from the experience begin to fade, almost as if any temporary "change" or shift in perspective gained from being briefly part of the big sky land, is currently dissipating due to the congestion of the buildings, traffic, and people... the "it" is still there, I need only embrace the "big-sky-land" within.

Breathe in, breathe out… YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

First, "Be" Right...

One of the tenants of Buddhism that I (think I) have been able to distill into my understanding is that good (right) practice is preceded by appropriate (right) thinking.

Like many recreational runners, I maintain a journal of miles and workouts which I update daily, weekly and monthly to track my performance and improvement. As I continue to struggle with my meditative sitting over this past week, and reflected on my days via a review of my running log, it occurred to me, why not "track" those days on which my behavior or "thinking" fails to be consistently "right?"

Now, you may say to yourself "just who is not 'guilty' of wrong thinking at least a small part of every day?"

Understood, but I sure believe that the potential lies within myself (and you), through considerate behavior and intentional reflection and consideration, to be more selective and less offensive for the better part of most days. Tracking this in my log, though is a tricky thing as I don't want to give the misperception that each day I place a "frowny face" on the log date, that I have committed some horrific offense.

Most frequently, I try to reflect on my day and try to identify just how positive or healthy my interactions with others, and myself, have been--this results in the occasional frowny face and more importantly, it gives me a place to look at physically and recall what I have done that is not-so-right and better understand what I can do that is illustrative of right thinking and action.

Breathe in, breathe out… YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Adventures in Meditation

The search for the (series?) of meditation strategies that gel best with my being moves forward... while I have been trying "counting breathes" as a way of practicing "stopping" sitting, I find myself being easily distracted. Now I know that is not a cue to dismiss the strategy as much as it is a recognition of my beginner's standing--it's completely unrealistic to intellectualize one's ability to plop on a pillow, sit, and see "magic colors" pass through my thoughts.

I have been reading and looking at different strategies and one that I came across is called the The Dalai Lama Meditation.

The explanation from the Meditation Society's web page presents this technique in some very "American" terms:

Remember when you were a kid and they often had cartoons where someone had a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other and they were whispering into an ear -- one encouraging doing "bad" and one doing "good". In a way, that's the basis of the Dalai Lama Meditation technique.

Behaviors I'd like to correct in the interest of better karma? Now, that I can visualize! The thing I'm realizing about meditation (as in most things) is that it is not enough to just "think" about doing something, but to just get on with doing it. Following a brief yoga series this morning, I went about "the doing", and tried this technique. Overall, I felt it was "successful" in that I felt comfortable focusing for a duration without discomfort or distraction.

I think I'll try again tomorrow!

Breathe in, breathe out… YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Winter Canal Running

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain.
Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through.
Even in summer the ice doesn't melt;
Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding.
How can you hope to get there by aping me?
Your heart and mine are not alike.
If your heart were the same as mine,
Then you could journey to the very center!"~Han Shan, 750

Run: 7.4 miles in 1:00:12 min. @ 3:50 p.m.
Pace: 8:08 min./per mile

Weather: Light Snow, 30°F, 66% Humidity, Wind: From ENE @ 5 mph; feels like 24°F.
Course: On the canal beginning at Lock 33 (Edgewood Avenue) to Mitchell Road (2.39 miles each way). The distance was determined by using the Erie Canal Running Distances Chart (out-and-back, paved path, flat) available on the Greater Rochester Track Club website.

When I set out for my run, the snow had not yet started falling, although here was already a "Weather Advisory" in effect, but there was little evidence of its necessity. The running weather was actually very favorable--cool enough to be of comfort as one's body heat rises with miles, but not s cold as to chill the skin, and too little wind to be truly abrasive.

On the canal, the leaves had all fallen from the trees and presumably had been layered at the base of the brush, now hidden beneath snow. The drained canal was now even more visible at certain points and a few ducks remained behind, dipping their feet in the small puddles that were visible toward the centers of remaining frozen puddles... further down the path where the canal's water surface had frozen more fully, and the now falling snow had begun settling on the ice, some small footprints (maybe rabbits, cats, and possibly raccoons) were visible crossing the ice...

I had not run on the canal following a snowfall in the past, but enjoyed the small challenges, like the hardened footprints left in the snow before a freeze, which had been created. There was a bit of "black ice" on the few areas at which some shoveling of snow had been attempted moved previously, but even that wasn't truly a concern except for the final 1/2 mile or so during which time the sun had fully set.

Embrassez votre été invincible!

Thinking of Sand Mandalas...

Do you believe that "things" happen for a reason?

While cleaning out my desk, I came across some older articles I had been holding onto and thought I'd share a few reflections about them. With a surprising degree of frequency, I come across articles (some longer than others) in my local newspapers, on the topic of Buddhist practice, specifically the creation and use of sand mandalas. (The one pictured to the right is by The Venerable Lama Tenzin Yignyen, an ordained Tibetan Buddhist monk.)The original article chronicled the work of visiting Tibetan monks who came to River City to craft a sand mandala, with the express purpose of dispersing it into the river which runs through our city. While I have had a passing awareness of the art form, as a spiritual practice, I remain in awe of the energy and effort placed on such beautiful art with a purpose.

The word mandala has many different definition, but the one I wish to ascribe to today is that it is a “circle” – an idealized circular model of the cosmos, with the source of cosmic or temporal power located at the centre, and deities or beings representing lesser powers or energies radiating outward toward the periphery, the limits of the system. In Tantric practice, Mandalas are often employed as visual meditation support.


Mandala's represent hours of dedication and work by the artists who create them.

Words hold power. Especially powerful and positive bright words and words of gratitude. This power sprinkles love all around you. It vitalizes people and makes their lives shine...

But, like all life in the Buddhist frame of reference, this mandala is intended to be impermanent. This impermanence is further illustrated by the practice of "releasing" it into our river, thereby bringing blessings upon us.

So, if one is to believe that "things" do indeed happen for a reason, what does the fact that while searching for the original article on-line while writing this post, I came across a very related new announcement, in the local independent newspaper? Apparently, there is a sand mandala to be constructed at a divinity college right here in River City over the next few weeks. Hmmmmm...

Embrassez votre été invincible!

Thaumatrope* Features: Into the Wild (2007)

"I read somewhere of how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once..."~Alexander Supertramp

This movie haunts me in a deeper way than even the novel which inspired it. My wife thinks I'm nuts because the plot can wrongly be boiled down to "dumb kid goes into woods and dies as a result of his ego and ignorance." This may in part be true, but it is only part of the message (I think). Maybe, it's a "guy thing"...

While the book was a comprehensive exploration of Christopher McCandless's experience, as well as the adventures of others who similarly sought solitude in nature, the movie is more like a poem. Christopher, who is "reborn" as Alexander Supertramp, stands in for those of us who seek to go deeper, farther and longer, in pursuit if some connection. The film depicts the mistakes he makes, and the losses he suffers without even realizing it until too late, but in the end it stands as a piece of powerful truly American film-making. A rare feat now-a-days.

Starring Emile Hirsch, written and directer by Sean Penn, with music by Eddie Vedder, I cannot recommend this film highly enough. It shares an organic, spiritual energy with another favorite of mine, Easy Rider (1969), as both deal with the road and the American soul.

Like many movies that don not feature superheroes or giant robots this film appears to be in limited release. Anne and I hunted it down and found it playing on one independent theater here in river city. Seek it out.



Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!
* Historical Note: A very early version of a "magic lantern" was invented in the 17th century by Athanasius Kircher in Rome. It was a device with a lens that projected images from transparencies onto a screen, with a simple light source (such as a candle). In 1824, the Thaumatrope was invented by (the earliest version of an optical illusion toy that exploited the concept of "persistence of vision") by Dr. John Ayrton Paris.

BotB: Beards for Peace

When I first started dating lo those many moons ago, I was given the advice that when meeting a girl's parents there a certain subjects you stay away from, namely, religion and politics. While I am in no way addressing any particular young lady's mother, I am going to enter the previously uncharted (for this blog, anyway) country of politics.

While not a political blog (it's primary focus is "running," for goodness sake!), I do occasionally like to touch on topics spiritual; in nature, especially as I often regard my running as meditative. I thought I might venture into political territory under the guise of discussing an interesting Internet find while trolling for fodder for my Brotherhood of the Beard (BotB) posts.

Recently I came across a little site called Beards for Peace. The site has a unique suggestion for those (like I) who are unhappy with the current direction of United States foreign policy in Iraq... STOP SHAVING NOW!

Growing a beard is also a spiritual and cultural symbol of manhood in some cultures and faiths including Islam and Judaism. By taking this step, you are declaring solidarity with peoples of all faiths around the world, including the one the American leaders would label our 'enemy'.

As a member of the BotB, and proud cultivator of facial hair, I cannot fool anyone into believing that I have grown this beard purely out of activism, but if it can send the message of our disapproval, and the need for a more peaceful resolution, then good...

Fear not ladies, there is a sister organization for Beards for Peace, Women for Beards.

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Waking Moment, Matrix Moment

Run: 8.8 miles in approximately 1:07:00 min. @ 6:45 p.m.

Pace: roughly 7:39 min./per mile avg.
Weather: Mostly Cloudy, 56°F, 59% Humidity, Winds: From WSW @ 14 mph, gusting up to 21 mph, feels like 56°F
Course: a slight variation of the 8 Mile Edgewood route (loop, mostly flat, roads) I found on USATF Map It!

Before leaving for my evening run, my stepson, who was reading the most recent issue of Discover magazine (which we had received in the mail earlier in the day), began sharing some of the details included in an article. I didn't see the title , but noticed that it was accompanied by pictures from the movie Tron, "You know, some people say that our life is like a video game... like in The Matrix."

I thought for a moment, and told him, "well, it really is if you think about it."

"How so?"

"Hmmm, how do I say this?" I measured my words trying to articulate in simple terms some of the BIG thoughts I had been noodling recently, "you really are making you're world every minute. Not in a "I'm plugged-into-an-alien' sort of a way, but in a 'every-second-you-are-awake-you-can-make-your-world-the way-you-want' sort of way."

He looked at me weirdly, but I was on a roll, "Think about it, every second gives you the chance to be the person you want, the only thing is, most of us don't even know we're in a second, let alone a world of our own making... some of us, me, too, alot of the time... don't even wake up enough to pay attention to what we did during the day."

All of this talk of perception, reality and Keanu Reeves filmography brought me winding back to yesterday when I thought of making the conscious choice to forget my watch when I run, if only occasionally... maybe I should run in the moment, refining my active practice of monitoring my breath and pace. Maybe I shouldn't allow myself to be pulled from within the running moment by responding to the nagging urge to check the watch.

Why not run while wide awake?

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Run: 18 miles in 2:14:34 min. @ 7:45 a.m.

Pace: 7:29 min./per mile avg.

Weather: Fair, 45°F
Course: Starting at the Lock 32 on Clover Road, heading East on the Erie Canal to Turk Hill Road, in Fairport, and back.

"Good for the body is the work of the body, good for the soul the work of the soul, and good for either the work of the other."~Thoreau

Having never run more than sixteen miles, just last week, outside of the three marathons I have run, I was a little intimidated at the prospect of going eighteen miles this morning. To alleviate my personal concerns about being able to stay focused for the duration I elected to run on the Erie Canal, a course which continues to become more and more familiar to me. At first I thought I might go West toward Greece, New York, onto uncovered ground, but once awake this morning, I quickly switched to a more comfortable Easterly direction. A couple of reasons made me glad for having made the change.

First, this permitted me to run into the sunrise, which was still low behind the trees and not in my face going out, and to my back on the return trip. Secondly, I came across one of my relay teammates about three miles into my run. He is a much younger, and better trained, athlete than yours truly, but we ran the next twelve miles together which provided me the impetus for a much more quickly paced training run than I had planned.

Walking onto the canal path this morning I had mentally prepared myself for anywhere from a 8:30-9:30 mile pace, but due to the increased paced running with my friend, I averaged much quicker 7:30 minute-per-mile pace. Of course, while running with my friend we pace at about 6:30-7:00 and the last three miles I ran by myself I would reckon I padded along at a very pedestrian pace of about 10:00 min-per-mile.

Those last three miles were very psychologically draining, and my mental exhaustion just helped to further reinforce for me my need to quickly build the weakest part of "my game," staying focused over the long haul of a long run. I have found a few strategies, most dealing with the practice of mindfulness exercises to stay "in the moment" and, therefore, in the run. By maintaining my personal presence within the physical experience, I hope to help strengthen my ability to keep my head in the run, in addition to fully experiencing the run.

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

2 Runs: One Crazy LSD Run & One Plain Hot One

Run 1: 11.8 miles in 1:31:46 min. @ 6:30 a.m.

Weather: Clear and Sunny Cloudy, 60°F, 91% Humidity, Winds: SW @ 4 mph; feels like 60°F.

Pace: 7:47 min./per mile avg.

Usually around the tenth mile I start getting a little "loopy." At that point, even during a Long Slow Distance (LSD!) training run, it can be a struggle to keep my head in the run. It is almost like the bandanna I'm wearing is holding all the magic in my skull... kooky colored stream of consciousness stuff... raspberries (blueberries?) have dropped from the trees and cover the sidewalk before me... colors and leaves and my wife and spirit names... oh wait, I think that's a prairie dog (beaver with regular tail?) scampering along the road... hmmmmmm...

I greatly enjoy the "high" these long runs bring... even when they are not that "long!"

Run 2 w/Anne: 1.2 miles in :15:00 min. @ 7:15 p.m.

Weather: Cloudy, 84°F, 45% Humidity, Winds: NW @ 5 mph; feels like 85°F.

Pace: 12:30 min./per mile avg.

Anne and I continued working through a 5k training plan together (today a 15-minute run) forgoing dinner to first venture into the humid evening, while attempting to hide under the shady cover of the elm and maple trees...

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Minutes Tickin': "1,000 Buddhas"

"Well my soul checked out missing, as I sat listening
To the hours and minutes tickin away..."~from "Better Days" by Bruce Springsteen

Just two days of "work" left, although the real work activities ceased at around 11 a.m. this morning. Thanks to a poorly constructed school year, many of my colleagues and I are reduced to biding our time until we can officially be dismissed for Summer Recess. So, when the desks are washed, grades submitted, texts accounted for, and class supplies secured, there is really not much to do. Of course, thank goodness, there is the Internet, though more thought needs to be given to the "wheres" and whats" of where one searches.

After goofing around on my Yahoo! Fantasy Baseball team roster, I checked out some of the Yahoo Daily Picks, and came across the Lens Culture Buddha Project, or 1,000 Buddhas:

Already, the collections boasts images of the deity posing in a shop window in Amsterdam and sitting on a table in New York. He towers over a garden in Thailand; hides in a collection of garden clippings in Berkeley, CA; and casts his legendary profile against a cloudy Japanese sky. Here, he appears in a colorful poster in a Beijing market; there, he manifests in the dark lines tattooed on a man's forearm. Sometimes, he looks angry, like the "stern Buddha" captured by Edward Galligan in "a small Buddhist temple in the hills of Coxsackie, NY." One picture reveals the "world's largest seated outdoor Buddha" on Lantau Island in Hong Kong. Lens Culture ventures that the project "may well generate good karma for everyone involved, viewers and contributors, alike."

Since January 2007, the group has collected over 259 different Buddha photos (NOTE: The image to the upper right hand corner is NOT part of the Buddha Project).

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Wild Hog Follow-Up: Good bye, Fred

There are constant reminders that things are often not what they appear... and what doesn't apear to be what it seems has a tendancy to scare us. A most recent example is best illustrated by a follow-up to this week's story (reflections about which were posted on this blog) that the "Hogzilla" killed last weekend by an eleven year old was in truth no "'Zilla," or monster at all... he was simply a 1,000 pound farm pig named Fred.

As reported in the article 'Monster Pig’ was huge — just not wild on MSNBC.com, Fred's origins are more reminiscent of Babe or Wilbur, than those of Godzilla or King Kong. Given this update, the thematic comparisons between this "monster" story and Princess Mononoke (1999) eluded to in my previous post ring even truer. Perhaps, as in Mononoke, it is not the iron bullet which corrupted the great beast, but in Fred's case, it was the misinformation and media frenzy created around the discovery of such an awe inspiring natural wonder as Fred that turned him from a farm pig into a 'zilla.

For me, this further illustrates our defense mechanism of vilifying those natural occurrences which we fear or misunderstand, resulting in the celebration of the senseless: the destruction of a great animal by a child.

Take it easy, Fred.

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

Thoughts on Easter...

"Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me."~Matthew 25:40, NRSV

I don't know that I have ever shared this so on my (at least this) blog, but I was raised a Catholic, and continue to practice the faith in which I was brought up.

Today is Easter Sunday, and like many folks, I will be spending my day both celebrating and eating with my family. Last night, for toughly two-and-a-half hours, Anne, the kids and I went to the Easter Vigil service at our local parish.

For those who don't know, Easter, the Sunday of the Resurrection, is the most important religious feast of the Christian liturgical year. The parish of which my family and I count ourselves as members has a strong outreach to the poor and homeless in our community. Because of this outreach, often there are those who obviously, through their dress and behavior, suffer from poverty and mental illness. During mass, on occasion, some gentlemen will whoop, holler, or respond at inappropriate times to what is being said on the altar.

Last night's mass was one such occasion when this happened. During the service, which included the culmination of the years RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation) activities, during which time adults who have not previously received certain sacraments are given them, three men entered the building and began talking to one another, as well as walking around trying to talk to the parishioners. It was distracting to those in church and some appeared a little scared. At first, I too, was apprehensive. My son, who was sitting next me about ten rows in front of the gentlemen, pointed them out to me when they began making noises and cheering.

It was at this point that I realized what a teachable moment we had.

When my son, Jack, mentioned the homeless folks to me again a short time later. He and I watched as one homeless person (the last in line to receive communion) had gulped down the remaining wine from the chalice. Give the unexpectedly lo-o-o-ng service, and apparent absurdity of the moment, it would have been easy to embrace the seemingly odd behavior with a cutting comment. (In fact, I had been dancing around that behavior during some of the mass, something I am, in retrospect, not proud of, to "pass the time.")

Instead, I reminded Jack that although their behavior was not as respectful as it should be, it was "their church, too." Part of me also felt that maybe it was more theirs than ours... I like to believe we're all important. To me that is what Easter, as well as my faith, is about.

Happy Easter!

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

My Secret Impulse

Cycling: 20 min. @ 5:45 a.m.
Yoga: 24 min. @ 5:00 a.m., Yoga Journal's Yoga for Strength (Beginner's Practice)

Confession time: You do not know this, but I am something of an impulse shopper. I would like to say that I am something of a "reformed" impulse shopper, but that would not be accurate. More disciplined? Yes. "Cured?" No.

Truth be told, I am, in some ways, an "impulse liver." I'll often see, hear, or experience something that I will immediately (or with little provocation) become obsessed with learning, acquiring or working towards sloppy mastery of it. This impulsive nature is most easily illustrated through the manner in which I read books: I'll see or read a synopsis or annotated version, and become obsessed with acquiring, sampling, and maybe, reading completely, the book.

My latest craze: The Secret by Rhonda Byrne. Yes, the same book that was recently featured on Oprah, twice in the past week, and while the fact that I purchased the book after it was first covered on Oprah may give the appearance that I am jumping on a bandwagon (and who really cares?) I guess I was drawn to the concepts early on. You may recall my previous post in which I confessed my appreciation of a certain Youtube video which turned out to be a commercial of sorts for the book.

So, while cycling (briefly!) this morning, I had at the top of my current reading, my copy of The Secret of which I read about ten more pages. Many will dismiss it as "New Age" psycho-babble, but, and call me crazy, it kind of makes sense, especially if you have read selections or discussions from other sacred texts. I'm no scholar, but I read quite a bit, and while that does not necessarily mean I'm credible (full disclosure: I read comic books, too), I would recommend checking it out. I have yet (fingers crossed!) to experience, I dramatic life changing moment, like most of the women on Oprah who watched the show(!), but there is certainly much food for thought contained within:

"Most of us attract by default. We just think that we don't have any control over it. Our thoughts and feelings are on autopilot, and so everything is brought to us by default."~Bob Doyle in The Secret

Feel familiar? Yes, it does to me, too...

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!

NOTE: The image featured above is Ian Crockett as posted on TekEarth

Poetry Snacks: The View from Cold Mountain

The beautiful thing about literature is in the discovery of a writer or genre you may not otherwise have ever found, as a result of reading a "gateway" writer. One gateway writer for me was Jack Kerouac. The gateway artist can have a literary "six-degrees of separation" effect... I know it sounds cliche as everyone points to Jack Kerouac as an influence, but I couldn't resist his appeal to me as a man, if not a writer. My given name is a hyphenated french derivative, just like Jack's (Jean-Louis). Kerouac was a well-liked jock (football) in high school, while I was a mildly successful high school cross-country runner. His roots are East coast, blue collar. Kind of like me. It is no wonder so many people can relate to him.

What I discovered through Jack, though, was not the somewhat sad life of the subterranean, but the influence of Buddhism on his writing and life. For me, Jack beget Japhy (in The Dharma Bums) who was really Gary (Snyder) from whom I "discovered" Han-shan.

Not much is known about Han-shan. What is known is that there is a fairly large catalog of poetry attributed to a Zen monk, who like many cave-dwellers took his name from the place he lived--cold mountain. Each of his poems tells its own tale, and it's up to you, the reader, to feel the quality of the energy within yourself.

Translated by many authors, the "snacks" below come from the book The View from Cold Mountain: Poems of Han-shan and Shih-te translated by Arthur Tobias, James Sanford and J.P. Seaton:

4

My heart is like the autumn moon
perfectly bright in the deep green pool
nothing can compare with it
you tell me how it can be explained

23

Despite the obstacles I pursued the great monk
the misty mountains a million layers high
he pointed to the road back home
one round moon lantern of the sky

The book from which these translations is no longer in print but can be purchased through Powells.com by following the link above. Han-shan's works have also been translated by Gary Snyder in his book Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems, which is still available.

Breathe in, breathe out... YOU AND I ARE ALIVE!