On Wednesday, I checked a translation of the Bhagavad Gita out of my church library, thinking that it might serve as a useful focus for morning meditations.
That assumes, of course, that I arise and meditate on a regular basis. Which I don't. Not by a long shot. But that's a topic for another post.
Anyway - back to the BG...there's a concept in one of the very early chapters that I'm playing with in my mind. I believe it's true from a spiritual perspective but I keep thinking of all the times I struggle with this truth as compared to the very few times in my life when I seem to get it.
Here's the verse:
You have a right to your actions,
but never to your actions' fruits.
Act for the action's sake.
And do not be attached to inaction.
Leaving aside the fact that I wish there was a comma after the word "sake" and the first word of the last line was lower case like the first word in the second line, I really love this verse. As a mom, I've recently felt a shift in how I want to relate to my kids. I attribute a lot of this shift to an article I read, which inspired me to (begin to) let go of the idea that I can mold my kids to become a particular type of person. I started to really look at my kids, realized how awesome they are, and decided to just try to enjoy my time with them and support them as much as I could in the process.
So...I suppose the motherhood thing was one reason this verse spoke to me, but that's not the only reason. It's a pretty radical notion when you think about it. Pretty much every career expert out there tells us that we need to network and "build our brand" so that we can grab control of our future and of course we need to eat healthy and exercise so that we can all look like _____ [insert your concept of most beautiful man or woman here]. Cause and effect is something that we're brought up to respect - and, in my humble opinion, it matters. I want my kids to know that their actions have consequences. Otherwise they could grow up to become insensitive dolts who think the world revolves around them. Oops. There I go - trying to mold them again.
Sigh.
My point, and I do have one, is that it's rather interesting to play with the idea of not allowing yourself to be attached to the results of your action. In other words: you raise and nourish and love your children because those actions are what you value. You might hope that they grow up healthy and strong, and provide you with precious grandchildren in your old age - but you shouldn't be attached to that hope. One never knows what will happen.
I think I kind of get it when it comes to my writing: I'd like it if a lot of people read my blog and my words were inspiring to others - but the truth is that the act of writing and re-writing my buzzing thoughts gives me immense satisfaction. Few things make me this happy.
Here's where I really struggle with the presumed truth of the verse - dog training. The whole reason we try to teach our dogs to sit or heel or stop barking like an idiot everytime someone rides by on a bicycle is so that we can change their future actions. I guess the anonymous author of the BG might argue that we're supposed to just enjoy that time with our dog for what it is and let go of any future expectations...but I'm just not seeing it.
In other words, I'm beginning to have a somewhat yoga attitude about my kids, my writing, and even my career - but not when it comes to my dog.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Jenn Joins a Horde
I just returned from Washington D.C., where I joined tons of people at the Rally to Restore Sanity. Truthfully "tons of people" doesn't even come close to the description. It was throngs of people. Legions of people. The mall was abundant with humanity.
We got there about an hour early and the crowd was already way back at 7th street and the sculpture garden, which was (as I understand it) the outer limits of what had been reserved for the Rally.
Hah!
People continued to pile in behind us and the very-cool-young-men-in-a-tree behind us informed me that they couldn't even see the end of the crowd. Once I took a look at some of the aerial photos of the event, it was obvious that the crowd spilled out from the mall into the streets on the side and way back to the end of the National Mall.
I think I'm in this picture, but if I am - it's near the front of this crowd (the part furthest away from the reflecting pool) - which is still very far away from the actual stage. This is just the back half of the crowd.
At any rate - I was surprisingly pleased to be part of a horde for the first time in my life. After the rally, we all left slowly, tightly, with me holding on to my husband's back pocket the whole time so he wouldn't lose me in the mass of humanity. Along the way, I kept pointing out posters so he could get pictures of the great ones.
Once clear of the National Mall, all the rally-goers were marching down the surrounding streets, holding our signs and smiling at each other. It somehow felt historical and really, really great - like I was speaking up for something - even if it was something as mundane as just treating each other with decency. You know...using manners, not making assumptions about others, and appreciating the fact that Americans can disagree and not think it's the end of the world as we know it.
So...ok, it wasn't exactly the civil rights or women's rights marches my mom participated in during the 60's (I consider myself blessed that she and others fought those battles for us) but it was a semi-spontaneous march that mattered to me in 2010. I'd say it was a march for my generation, but that wouldn't be fair or even accurate. I was surrounded by people my parents age (and older) as well as people much younger than my 39 years. (The guys in the tree were clearly not only in great shape but most of them were almost certainly in their twenties..except for one really old dude who was rather overweight. I seriously think he might have teleported himself into the tree. But...I digress.)
I loved the trip to D.C. for a bunch of reasons. Saturday was the ultimate experience of going with the flow. I'd asked some friends for restaurant recommendations. That turned out to be quite laughable...as we quickly realized we were walking down Independence Avenue with 215,000 other people. We crowded into the Metro - which was packed like a Tokyo subway - and departed near GWU. We beat most of the rest of the crowd to that part of town by about 15 minutes, which meant we only had to wait 45 minutes for a table at a surprisingly good Italian restaurant. It wasn't on any of the lists I'd collected, but I enjoyed a glass of their house sangiovese, ate roasted garlic with spinach, and enjoyed the fact that I wasn't standing up anymore.
I loved looking at everyone's signs and I thought Jon Stewart's final statement was fabulous. I can't BELIEVE I got to hear Yusef (a.k.a. Cat Stevens) sing live. I was in pure heaven singing "Peace Train" and swaying. (Maybe I was channeling the 60's just a bit...)
I clung to my husband as if it was 1963 (or...really...1973, since I should at least reference a year in which I was alive...) because so many people were using cell phones that the system was pretty much down. My cell phone was about as useful as a paperweight. I couldn't get texts or calls to go through until I hit Foggy Bottom. I was holding onto his back pocket like it was my lifeline because I knew if we got separated, it would be a while before we'd reach each other on the phone.
When all was said and done, we made it back to the hotel where we purchased exorbitantly expensive glasses of Jameson's and worked on this slideshow of all the great signs we'd seen. (Mine is the one that says "Chill!" in case you're wondering.)
I learned a few things this weekend.
1. It's great to spend a few hundred bucks to take an irrational trip every now and then.
2. There's a totally cool couple from Iowa (about my parents' age) who are the only people in their social circle to watch The Daily Show. (You go, cool Boomers!!)
3. There's a really, really bad Tex-Mex knock off restaurant in the Charlotte, N.C. airport that charges WAY too much for watery margaritas and nauseating nachos.
4. I may vote Democratic in many, many elections - but I'm not "a Democrat" - I'm an American. And a mom. I appreciate artistic outlandishness and conservative stability. Oddly - that doesn't strike me as contradictory.
5. My husband is the same stable and reliable guy that he was when he led me around D.C. on our honeymoon in 1993. Thank goodness I'm with someone whom I can trust to consistently point me in the right direction. And...you know...find me a good red wine at the end of the day.
We got there about an hour early and the crowd was already way back at 7th street and the sculpture garden, which was (as I understand it) the outer limits of what had been reserved for the Rally.
Hah!
People continued to pile in behind us and the very-cool-young-men-in-a-tree behind us informed me that they couldn't even see the end of the crowd. Once I took a look at some of the aerial photos of the event, it was obvious that the crowd spilled out from the mall into the streets on the side and way back to the end of the National Mall.
I think I'm in this picture, but if I am - it's near the front of this crowd (the part furthest away from the reflecting pool) - which is still very far away from the actual stage. This is just the back half of the crowd.
At any rate - I was surprisingly pleased to be part of a horde for the first time in my life. After the rally, we all left slowly, tightly, with me holding on to my husband's back pocket the whole time so he wouldn't lose me in the mass of humanity. Along the way, I kept pointing out posters so he could get pictures of the great ones.
Once clear of the National Mall, all the rally-goers were marching down the surrounding streets, holding our signs and smiling at each other. It somehow felt historical and really, really great - like I was speaking up for something - even if it was something as mundane as just treating each other with decency. You know...using manners, not making assumptions about others, and appreciating the fact that Americans can disagree and not think it's the end of the world as we know it.
So...ok, it wasn't exactly the civil rights or women's rights marches my mom participated in during the 60's (I consider myself blessed that she and others fought those battles for us) but it was a semi-spontaneous march that mattered to me in 2010. I'd say it was a march for my generation, but that wouldn't be fair or even accurate. I was surrounded by people my parents age (and older) as well as people much younger than my 39 years. (The guys in the tree were clearly not only in great shape but most of them were almost certainly in their twenties..except for one really old dude who was rather overweight. I seriously think he might have teleported himself into the tree. But...I digress.)
I loved the trip to D.C. for a bunch of reasons. Saturday was the ultimate experience of going with the flow. I'd asked some friends for restaurant recommendations. That turned out to be quite laughable...as we quickly realized we were walking down Independence Avenue with 215,000 other people. We crowded into the Metro - which was packed like a Tokyo subway - and departed near GWU. We beat most of the rest of the crowd to that part of town by about 15 minutes, which meant we only had to wait 45 minutes for a table at a surprisingly good Italian restaurant. It wasn't on any of the lists I'd collected, but I enjoyed a glass of their house sangiovese, ate roasted garlic with spinach, and enjoyed the fact that I wasn't standing up anymore.
I loved looking at everyone's signs and I thought Jon Stewart's final statement was fabulous. I can't BELIEVE I got to hear Yusef (a.k.a. Cat Stevens) sing live. I was in pure heaven singing "Peace Train" and swaying. (Maybe I was channeling the 60's just a bit...)
I clung to my husband as if it was 1963 (or...really...1973, since I should at least reference a year in which I was alive...) because so many people were using cell phones that the system was pretty much down. My cell phone was about as useful as a paperweight. I couldn't get texts or calls to go through until I hit Foggy Bottom. I was holding onto his back pocket like it was my lifeline because I knew if we got separated, it would be a while before we'd reach each other on the phone.
When all was said and done, we made it back to the hotel where we purchased exorbitantly expensive glasses of Jameson's and worked on this slideshow of all the great signs we'd seen. (Mine is the one that says "Chill!" in case you're wondering.)
I learned a few things this weekend.
1. It's great to spend a few hundred bucks to take an irrational trip every now and then.
2. There's a totally cool couple from Iowa (about my parents' age) who are the only people in their social circle to watch The Daily Show. (You go, cool Boomers!!)
3. There's a really, really bad Tex-Mex knock off restaurant in the Charlotte, N.C. airport that charges WAY too much for watery margaritas and nauseating nachos.
4. I may vote Democratic in many, many elections - but I'm not "a Democrat" - I'm an American. And a mom. I appreciate artistic outlandishness and conservative stability. Oddly - that doesn't strike me as contradictory.
5. My husband is the same stable and reliable guy that he was when he led me around D.C. on our honeymoon in 1993. Thank goodness I'm with someone whom I can trust to consistently point me in the right direction. And...you know...find me a good red wine at the end of the day.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Praying for Dwayne
There's a guy who hangs out near my Walgreens and whenever I have a dollar I give it to him. For some reason I started thinking about him a lot, worrying about him you might say and I wanted to meet him. I don't know why - I know that in the lingo of the church where I was raised, one would say that "the Spirit was speaking to me" - but I don't use that lingo anymore so I don't really know how to describe how I felt.
I just know I wanted to meet him.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to be stopped at the red light so we had more than a second to visit. I asked him if he needed anything else - he indicated anything was welcome. I clarified that I was wondering if he had the phone numbers to call for places in town that helped people who didn't have a home. He said he didn't, I offered to bring them and he said that would be great.
Last night I pulled together some numbers - it's not as easy as you might think - even with a semi-decent internet connection. I grabbed some quarters and a water bottle, then my son insisted that I include a bag of Chips Ahoy. He wasn't around yesterday evening and I was oddly worried. I saw someone else's sign by the side of the road - abandoned - and I started thinking about all the rough things that could happen to him. And of course - how many others were out last night? It wasn't just my friend in danger.
Today he was back at his corner so I walked over to him. Two other guys were with him so it was kind of crummy that I didn't have a bag for everyone, but I at least introduced myself and got into a mini-discussion about the proper pronunciation of Caritas. (Now I'm really wondering....)
Here's what I learned: my friend's name is Dwayne. I'd always noticed that he had a wolf t-shirt that he hung over his backpack and I told him how much I loved it. He pointed out that the reason he liked it is that the wolf has green eyes with dark fur and he told me to look at his eyes - they were blue. Blue, blue eyes against his dark skin - very cool.
Anyway, we talked for a while about how some people can treat you like you're nothing - I told him it happened to me too but that he just needed to remember he was a blessing. (Because he is.)
The reason I'm telling you this is that "Homelessness" is so big and overwhelming - it seems hopeless. The big huge social issue of homelessness and all the other social issues that are intrinsically tied into it ARE huge and I can't do a darn thing about them by myself.
But now we all know Dwayne's name. If you ever pray or even if you just think about people and hope for the best, then you can think about Dwayne by name. I gave him the numbers for a bunch of places here in town - including Caritas and Front Steps. I gave him cookies and water, and three quarters. It's just a start, but love will take him further.
So maybe tonight, just tonight - if we all pray for Dwayne - he'll see a new direction and a new hope. My son asked me last month why I pray so often. I told him that it's because there are so many things in life over which I have no control. When I pray, I send my love out - sometimes that's all I can do. I guess I'm still Baptist enough (deep down) to believe it makes a difference in the world. I know it makes a difference in my heart.
I just know I wanted to meet him.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to be stopped at the red light so we had more than a second to visit. I asked him if he needed anything else - he indicated anything was welcome. I clarified that I was wondering if he had the phone numbers to call for places in town that helped people who didn't have a home. He said he didn't, I offered to bring them and he said that would be great.
Last night I pulled together some numbers - it's not as easy as you might think - even with a semi-decent internet connection. I grabbed some quarters and a water bottle, then my son insisted that I include a bag of Chips Ahoy. He wasn't around yesterday evening and I was oddly worried. I saw someone else's sign by the side of the road - abandoned - and I started thinking about all the rough things that could happen to him. And of course - how many others were out last night? It wasn't just my friend in danger.
Today he was back at his corner so I walked over to him. Two other guys were with him so it was kind of crummy that I didn't have a bag for everyone, but I at least introduced myself and got into a mini-discussion about the proper pronunciation of Caritas. (Now I'm really wondering....)
Here's what I learned: my friend's name is Dwayne. I'd always noticed that he had a wolf t-shirt that he hung over his backpack and I told him how much I loved it. He pointed out that the reason he liked it is that the wolf has green eyes with dark fur and he told me to look at his eyes - they were blue. Blue, blue eyes against his dark skin - very cool.
Anyway, we talked for a while about how some people can treat you like you're nothing - I told him it happened to me too but that he just needed to remember he was a blessing. (Because he is.)
The reason I'm telling you this is that "Homelessness" is so big and overwhelming - it seems hopeless. The big huge social issue of homelessness and all the other social issues that are intrinsically tied into it ARE huge and I can't do a darn thing about them by myself.
But now we all know Dwayne's name. If you ever pray or even if you just think about people and hope for the best, then you can think about Dwayne by name. I gave him the numbers for a bunch of places here in town - including Caritas and Front Steps. I gave him cookies and water, and three quarters. It's just a start, but love will take him further.
So maybe tonight, just tonight - if we all pray for Dwayne - he'll see a new direction and a new hope. My son asked me last month why I pray so often. I told him that it's because there are so many things in life over which I have no control. When I pray, I send my love out - sometimes that's all I can do. I guess I'm still Baptist enough (deep down) to believe it makes a difference in the world. I know it makes a difference in my heart.
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