Buddhism 101: The Four Noble Truths

(This is by special request.)
In my own irreverent words:

Truth #1 - Life always has been and always will be a pain in the ass
Truth #2 - Our suffering is caused by attachment to ego, others, clothes, jewelry, houses, cars, foods, booze, drugs, sex, experiences, etc.
Truth #3 - It is possible to rise above the suffering and find inner peace.
Truth #4 - That inner peace can be found by learning and adhering to the eight-fold path.

The eight-fold path:

1 - Right view (be real, be honest, no sugar-coating; it is what it is)
2 - Right intentions (approach others - and self - with love and acceptance)
3 - Right speech (use words to heal or strengthen - not harm or diminish)
4 - Right action (demonstrate appropriate compassion/generosity of spirit)
5 - Right livelihood (does what you do help or hurt mankind/wildlife/the planet?)
6 - Right effort (work on detaching from those things that bring you pain)
7 - Right mindfulness (be aware and fully present at all times)
8 - Right concentration (meditate; some say God speaks to us in the silence between the thoughts)

There is way more to it than this. I highly recommend "Awakening the Budha Within" by Lama Surya Das.

Happy Channukah, Merry Christmas ... namaste.

Body language, breakups and movin' on.

What do these hands say to you? Hold that thought.

They say we should dance like nobody's looking and love like you've never been hurt.  Well, my dancing is just fine but ... it's two weeks to the day since I packed my shit and came home to sort it all out and lick my wounds.

Color it sorted. On the bright side you learn a lot about yourself when you try on a new relationship after a long time alone.

I had given up on match.com. The only man I'd met in the past year who seemed APPROPRIATE and fun and spiritual was visiting Fort Myers Beach from SEDONA. I figured "if I have to relocate for the real thing, will do."

So I had changed my match range to 3,000 miles thinking nobody will notice.

Someone noticed. A local sent a sweet email that concluded with "and I'm within 3,000 miles." I laughed out loud. My sense of humor - EXCELLENT. And the happy, relaxed smile in his photos took my breath away.

The little voice in my head that said "but he looks a little drunk or buzzed" ... I shoved that aside because he was absolutely dreamy. I told myself to buy the marketing - this was obviously a relaxed, happy  man.

I wrote back "how cute are you!!!"

And the wheels started turning - despite the fact that part of me didn't want to try again. I didn't WANT to love like I'd never been hurt.

We met for a Starbucks coffee that lasted through dinner at Outback. We ate outside. The night was cold, but he was warm. Conversation was great, his eyes were great. He was so tall. So handsome.

Then he caught a cold that lasted three weeks. We couldn't kiss or hug, he was afraid I'd get it. We watched TV and hung out. When I finally got a hug, I thought I would die of happiness. Then I caught his bug, of course.

We spent a few more weeks with him attaching, detaching, sizing things up. Then we took the plunge and did something I still wonder about. I hated to leave him and he hated to see me go. He didn't just give me a drawer - he cleaned out half of his LARGE closet AND a chest of drawers.

I was blown away by the leap of faith. I was welcome in his home. My dogs were welcome to bond with his dogs. We were a family ... for a while. It was wonderful. Mostly.

He lives exactly one block from my ex-BF's Florida home. That is one block from the place where I was yelled at, criticized, ridiculed, humiliated in front of friends. That is the lawn where the ex threw my possessions onto the grass and ordered me out the night before I was supposed to start a new job.

I had been screamed at in the driveway of the nearby Subway for not knowing what he wanted on his sandwich. I had been yelled at, roared at on nearby crossroads for my driving - he had jumped out of the car to storm home in a rage. There were old wounds at every turn.

The ex had missed a lot of what happened because he was in blackouts. His moods flipped like letters on Jeopardy.

I didn't realize the scars hadn't healed completely. I discovered to my horror - three years later - that I was still a beaten dog, braced for blows that never came. This was my first "real" relationship since that time.

It took a while to calm down and relax. But I never relaxed completely. Something wasn't quite right.

Dreamy had his own scars and there were a lot of them. If I put my hands on my hips, he pretty nearly freaked and - like me - braced for blows that never came. Same reaction for any instance of using the word "should" or the expression "why don't you." A dark wall shot up and took a while going back down.

One time I asked if he wanted to talk - he seemed upset and I wanted to see why - and we went outside by the pool. I leaned back and pressed my fingertips together. It wasn't a conscious thing, I was really genuinely interested in what he had to say.

Plus it felt good on my hands and wrists, I type a lot.

He said "your fingers say you're judging!" And I thought "no I'm not!" And I said "No, I'm anxious to hear what you have to say." I put my hands on my lap and tried not to be alarmed at how sensitive he was.

I just looked up my exact body language and that hand position is called "steepling." Per Forbes ... "Steepling your fingers means you are confident and focused."

I learned more about my personal peculiarities in my two months at his house. After going through loss of everything I owned from an intense battle with Lyme Disease, I have a new sense of the value of things. I buy carefully and avoid waste at all costs. CALL ME CHEAP.

I was sick for a long time, so I worry about the food I eat. Garbage in, garbage out. CALL ME ONE OF THOSE IRRITATING ALMOST VEGETARIANS.

I love the environment - I am a recycler. I have seen videos of the plastic ocean. CALL ME A SEA HUGGER.

I am aware of my ability to annoy people with the limitations I put on myself, so - from day one - it was like I do things this way, you do things your way. "I'll feed myself, you feed yourself." It was fine; I would still buy and prepare steaks for him.

The affection was forced on his end, but I was happy waking up with him, kissing his shoulder, taking the dogs out into the suffocating heat that can be morning in Florida. It was great having coffee over the paper, sharing one roof, knowing he was in that house somewhere. Staying up talking til all hours.

The spontaneity was great too - we'd decide to do something fun at the drop of a hat. We knew we had a tendency to spend too much time "on the couch."

The differences came from the core. I knew up front he believed in God but saw Him as the enemy. That was disturbing. That was a red flag.

I would say we were blessed to have amazing lives and he would grunt.

We had our scars. I was ready to run at the drop of the hat; having been thrown out so many times just one block away.  He ran from life by altering his reality.

I am no stranger to mood swings and/or blackouts. They always preceded the worst of what I experienced one block away. I know the emptiness in the eyes, the black curtain that drops like death.

Two weeks ago I saw it and ran. I was suddenly unwelcome. I had not meant to end us, I just wasn't going to hang around someone else's house through "awkward". I remember saying "I don't DO awkward." I was certain the distance would do us good and we would fix it.

In hindsight ... he told me up front he was prone to depressions. I didn't want to hear that, so I didn't plug it into my memory banks. Well, I rummaged around I found it. I found other supporting comments and behaviors that I deliberately ignored because I enjoyed him so much.  

We exchanged emails in the days that followed. I apologized for my assorted weaknesses and weirdnesses and made sure he knew the door was open, would always be open. His first emails were confused, then angry - then ultimately hostile.

I stopped rising to the bait and accepted we were over.

At one point, very, very confused and hurt, I did something I've never done before. Something very Buddhist. I pictured his face in my hands and my cheek against his in an act of unconditional love. And my pain went away.

He was supposed to meet my family in July. My mother wrote to tell me they had decided to give us the downstairs bedroom - cool, with company I don't have to sleep on the metal rails that are the hideabed.

But I had to confess we broke up. Another failure. Alone in paradise. Again. Still.

I was expecting something disparaging about my selection process. (Which is actually more of an acceptance process.)  Instead she wrote back "it's a good thing you lived with him. You learned a lot in a short period of time."

I learned I do have the capacity to love and be with someone, that it is something I want in my life.

It's hard getting used to being alone again. Hopefully the real thing is still out there somewhere; having a hard time being alone.

How does that make you feel?

It's a soft, coolish gray morning here in South Fort Myers; kind of refreshing.

How does the photo make you feel? It nearly made me laugh out loud, it made me feel silly and light. It's the canine version of the intro for Sex and the City.

Our bodies tell us what we need to know. I never thought of that until I was coming off my years of emotional abuse with the exBF. (A beautiful man I will always love who cannot get out of his own way and will ultimately crush anyone who attempts to get close.)

I first learned of the concept while reading "The Emotionally Abusive Relationship." The author says when a victim starts dating again, they should pay attention to what their body tells them. Your body will alert you to danger.  I've started practicing this body awareness with a lot more than dates.  These are stressful times, we're all on overload. Some of what we take in is unnecessary. 

Try this new awareness with acquaintances, phone calls, all communications really. Do a body check - queasiness in the tummy, shoulders headed up towards your earlobes?

Does the intereaction make you feel better or worse?

Is it essential or can you let it go?

After the election, I went from political junkie to political hermit. Well except for some health care skirmishes that strike me where I live - and would like to continue living - in this body for as long as it lasts.

But mostly, post election it was time to put my head down and let the shrapnel fly. I knew change would take time; you don't turn an aircraft carrier on a dime.  It was going to get ugly because a lot of people would be angry for a very long time. I would wait it out.

I had no idea that so many of my friends, while growing older, had become bigots and haters. I guess it's like nose and ear hair, the reality of what's in a person's heart is revealed with age. Some cloak their waning "personal power" by embracing Christianity, which - to some - grants instant implied spiritual superiority with a hot steaming side of judginess.

I continue to remove those people from my life. It's a painful process. I'm up front, I give warning before I close the door, but ... well, at this age, people are pretty much who they have chosen to be. I was feeling like crap about it until I read this in one of my buddhist books, The Dhammapada (this thousands of years old text translated by Ananda Maitreya with foreward by Thich Nhat Hanh):

"Should a traveler fail to find a companion equal or better, rather than suffer the company of a fool, he should resolutely walk alone."

I think the two concepts - how a thing makes us feel and who we should associate with - are crucial to our emotional well being. We should associate with equals or better - people who make us feel good. We walk away from these people feeling the warmth of love and acceptance. The lessers wear us down.

It's the same with media. The media we choose is "a companion".

This morning I did what I did pre-election - turned the TV on the second I woke up. Meredith Viera, my favorite, is looking too thin, gaunt. Much older. Has it been that long since I watched? I guess so. I hope she's not sick.

The stories were either sickening, saccharine or stupid. I wonder if the Today Show's planners have those three in a pie chart every night before the next show. Today it was the little girl who has been lost for a year - her father's girlfriend was arrested under drug charges and they're hoping to get information from her. The ex-girlfriend (now ex-wife) looks like a little girl herself.

And there was some silliness about office irritations - dirty microwaves, food stealing and the like.

And the scorned other woman who was plastering photos of herself with her married man ex BF on BILLBOARDS ACROSS TOWN! It did not escape notice that the scorned woman is a model or actress - what a great way to screw your ex one last time while promoting yourself. Sure, throw his wife under the bus and ruin his life while you're at it.

What a horrendous waste of my time. What a crappy way to start the day. And how did I feel? HORRIBLE after watching the little girl's grandmother cry. TWITCHY with empathetic discomfort at the stupid questions she was expected to answer. AWFUL for the cheating man's wife. DISAPPOINTED at the Today Show for granting the conniving ex-mistress priceless press coverage.

The last time I watched a few minutes of the Today show was in the aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti and there was the man whose daughter (?) was caught there somewhere. He was pleading, yelling at Obama to do something about it.

That made me ANGRY. They kept cutting to the man ranting ... you know what? If my son went to a foreign country and there was a natural disaster, I wouldn't assume MY country had an obligation to go in there and find him. Our children make choices; are their choices the responsibility of this country? I don't think so.

Much of the media is lesser. My role in actively WATCHING the programming left me nauseated, depressed and hopeless. Here's the quote again:

"Should a traveler fail to find a companion equal or better, rather than suffer the company of a fool, he should resolutely walk alone."

So, Today Show, two strikes and you are out. I will get my news online and from NPR. NPR gives the news in an informative way that keeps you apprised without making you feel like a quivering mass of hopelessness.

I turned off the TV and took the dogs outside. You know what? QUIET is a beautiful thing. Birds. The breeze in the trees. No radio, no cell phone, no TV. That feels really good.

The hopelessness a lot of us feel sometimes? It goes away when we help someone else.

I was driving out to the beach yesterday and there was a skinny, bearded old man (my age probably) with a cardboard sign "veteran needs help". There were about 8 cars at that light. I scrambled in my purse for a few bucks and honked to get his attention. I gave him the cash and he said "God bless you" - I said "God bless you too."

As I drove away, I realized he looked a lot like a man I had seen lying on the grass on San Carlos one morning. Passed out, drugged out or homeless? Would my little bit of money go for food or booze? If it goes for food, it sustains him. If it goes for booze, it will numb him from the shameful reality of a country that really doesn't take care of it's veterans. I'm ok with that.

Helping one person eye to eye in my little world made me feel really, really good.

FEEDING OUR DEMONS

"Demons are our obsessions and fears, feelings of insecurity, chronic illnesses, or common problems like depression, anxiety, and addiction."

Where was this article when I was popping panic attacks like M & Ms? This is an amazing hands-on Buddhist process from Tricycle.com - "The Buddhist Review."

It reminds me of something I used to do when I was a little kid; when there were scary monsters in my dreams, I made friends with them. If you don't have time to read this now, save it for later.

Five steps to transforming your obstacles

—your addictions, anxieties, and fears—

into tranquility and wisdom,

from Tsultrim Allione.
http://www.tricycle.com/-practice/feeding-your-demons

Artwork by Andrew Guenther.
http://www.neoimages.net/artistportfolio.aspx?pid=122

Apology to Harry

No dear blog readers, do not call the guys in the white coats. (As if our country has the resources to even EMPLOY guys in white coats any more ...)

Buddhism isn't optimistic or pessimistic, it's realistic.

I like to be funny and irreverent, but reality is harsh for a lot of us right now. I've blogged through some fears in recent weeks. Hopefully it helps others know they're not alone. (I find that incredibly comforting.)

And hopefully it helps those whose lives are more secure appreciate their homes and families.

This is from my favorite book, "Awakening the Buddha Within" by Lama Surya Das.
http://www.amazon.com/Awakening-Buddha-Within-Tibetan-Western/dp/0767901576/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1246991173&sr=8-1

"Depression typically carries an overwhelming sense of feeling abandoned, alone, exhausted and disconnected - profoundly weary from the difficult business of living. If this ever happens to you - and it happens to many of us at one time or another - self inquiry needs to be directed at ways in which you have abandoned or lost touch with yourself.

When you're working on depression and other difficult life situations, it's important to summon your faith, fall back on soulful inner practices and go for refuge where you can find spiritual solace.

Try to remember to have faith in your own Buddha-nature, your own inner light, and seek guidance from a reliable teacher ... who inspires spiritual wisdom and energy. Go for refuge to the Dharma by staying true to yourself and your sense that you are on the right path. And look to your friends and your sangha, or spiritual group of any denomination, for support."

Harry sent me an email like he thought I was sitting on the toilet with a gun in my mouth. Bless your heart Harry, I don't have a gun and if I did, I would never have the balls (or desire) to off myself.

Who would feed the dogs???

My "reliable teachers" are my books - like the one the quote above was taken from; also the Tibetan monk who's coming to Health & Harmony next Saturday! He's the one who says the whole of Buddhism can be boiled down to three key teachings. "Be generous/compassionate with others, do no harm and tame the mind."

My "sangha" (spiritual community) is the Health & Harmony yoga center where we stretch and sweat and laugh like children.

Next Saturday will be an amazing day where - after yoga with Sondra - we stay in the same room to learn "Four Thoughts That Turn the Mind to Enlightenment" w Venerable Konchok Tharchin.

http://www.meetup.com/Health-and-Harmony-Center-in-South-Fort-Myers/calendar/10770231/

No, life is good right now. There is joy and hope. Some challenges, yeah, but they seem manageable. Especially when one begins approaching all tasks as if they were sacred.

Namaste.

Going Forth on the Fourth

When you hit the black hole of depression, you wonder if you’ve stirred something up from the murky depths of your gene pool … or whether your dramatic response is APROPRIATE.

I'm meeting a friend tonight who I haven't heard from in months. Rachael is smart and sophisticated with an artsy little home near the beach.

A few years ago she was a very successful mortgage broker. In the past few years … not so much.

She called a few weeks back when I was in utter despair, too depressed to answer the phone; she didn’t leave a message. I had to compose myself before I could compose a quick email ... I think I asked if she was OK. It was weird to hear from her after all these months.

She wrote back something uncharacteristically snotty like “yeah, WHY?”

During the depths I got paranoid and started assuming everyone I cared for no longer cared for me.

Today Rachael called again; this time I was ok to answer. She's as low as I've been. We both babbled like schoolgirls, sharing and confessing - two baby boomers in similar boats.

She told me she has a friend who wakes up every morning and thinks "FUCK - I'm still alive." It was shocking to hear someone say that out loud. I was thinking the same thing. The only comforting aspect of not having health insurance is knowing you don’t have to worry about treatment options if you get sick. You can just GO*.

But that’s not what I was worried about. In recent weeks I was freaked wondering how I would live and WHERE I would live if I couldn’t support myself. My son's place is too small and his life full of responsibilities. I have no doubt my mom and stepdad would say no if I asked to stay with them. My step-dad would say "if we do it for her, we have to do it for the grandkids". While my one stepbrother is in a supportive relationship, his sons live deeply troubled lives.

My folks live in a giant house on 80 acres. They have room in their house, but not in their hearts. I'm sure if my step-dad dies, it would be a different story for me. Or if something happens to my mom's health. But then that place would kill us both. In the Lake Superior area, the snow gets waist deep with temps so low it’s dangerous to leave the house. It was a dismal realization, to know that in a worst case scenario, I have nowhere to go.

Rachael is in that same place, too old for anyone to want her and too young for Social Security. Her house is in foreclosure. In hurricane season with no home insurance, she has stored the furniture and kept only her bed and TV.

When we talk on the phone, her voice echoes across the deep red Spanish tiles where her baby grand once stood.

On the bright side, foreclosures take a while and she probably has three months left. Then she worked out a place to go. She will move into her son’s house - he apparently has another option.

Rachael is working three days a week for a local nonprofit. The rest of the time she confesses she's been sleeping, watching CNN and eating. Nothing like making it all worse by fattening yourself up while you're down.

She said it's like there's a "magnet on her house", she's afraid to leave it. She panics and has to rush home to her dogs.

Me too!!

The only thing that got me up in the morning was the need to feed the dogs and take them outside. I told her this last depression was one of the worst I've ever been through. But with work comes joy (and groceries). With yoga comes strength and peace. With NPR comes the sense that we’re NOT alone in all this.

I've been forcing myself to reach out and make new friends. Friday I went out with a nice man. We talked for three hours. I was the first date he's had in 16 years, he was terrified; but I joked him out of it and we had a nice time.

I suggested meeting at the Lighthouse Tiki Bar, but that's where he caught his wife with the other man. He took her back after a time and tried to do the right thing; of course it bit him on the ass and he lost most of what he had.

We met at the Paradise Tiki Bar in Cape Coral instead. They've cleaned that place up! (I used to go there with Randy, his house is just two canals away.)

Anyway, this other guy is spiritual and believes in past lives. We had great conversation but the band was too loud. There will be more to talk about in some other place.

And then last night (look at me, like I have balls or something) I drove to Naples to watch the fireworks with someone I met online.

He had three bottles of wine waiting for us on the table (red flag) along with wasabi crackers and gourmet dips. He invited me to spend the night before we met but I told him I have to get back to my dogs.

I am well aware of the "you've had too much to drink" line. That was not about to happen. What DID happen is he talked too much and tried too hard. It made me very, very nervous.

Then we walked around town and I got to see how the rich people are still living. He’s one, but he doesn’t act like it. Thank God.

We walked past mansions. One was for sale and he pulled the real estate sheet; the price had “dropped” to about 3+ million.

He said these homes were on a lake. We walked around to a small deck-like “outlook” where you can see "the whole thing".

It’s a pond.

He said he remembers when it was surrounded by modest cottages. Now you can't see it from the sidewalk. Mansions surround it shoulder to shoulder, like a pride of lions feeding on a chipmunk.

I said for that much money, you could find something on the gulf. He laughed and said not even close. He said in this neighborhood, “Sanibel is the cheap seats.” He told me most of the homes are owned by people who own homes all over the world; they rarely stay there.

We walked to town a flew blocks away. Locals and tourists were out in force, waiting for the fireworks. In the restaurants people were drinking expensive wines with $60 dinners.

On the streets beautifully dressed people walked BEAUTIFULLY groomed dogs.

He asked what style I choose for my dogs. I said “I do them myself.” My girls can endure the humiliation of mom’s scissor cuts if it saves me $90/month with tip!

We had champagne cocktails in one exceptionally beautiful bar; later we ate gyros streetside. He'd never had one, I helped him with his pronunciation.

It was very hot, I was melting when we heard the boom of fireworks down by the pier. As we walked towards the sights and sounds, he kept touching my arm, telling me how cool I felt. (???)

He was right. (Remembering when the ex-bf said I’m so good with the heat I should move to Nicaragua. Pinch me - maybe I'm dead already?!)

My skin IS cool to the touch in extreme heat, how weird is that? But my scalp was raining sweat to my eyebrows.

We walked a lot, like he was judging my health. I joked that I could kick his ass. I have no doubt I could. He breathlessly stopped at some corners to "let you rest".

His parents are gone and he has no children. He said "nobody cares whether I live or die." (Gasp.)

Being with him made me feel really old. I think because he FEELS old, or maybe it was his sad rubbing off. He's not worth as many millions as he once was. “I should have sold four years ago, when I had a chance.”

By 10 I was bored out of my mind and on the verge of a panic attack. I'm still getting those for some reason. I guess big stress doesn't go away easily, it LINGERS.

People of all sizes, colors and lifestyles had jammed into the small downtown area to see the fireworks; now everyone wanted out. Going home meant a descent into crushing traffic, but sitting in traffic is better than feeling awkward and struggling for things to say.

Mile by mile, my shoulders gradually started easing down off my ear lobes.

This morning I sent him a thank you note. I'm not turning my nose up at friendships any more.

Today I'm cleaning. Organizing. Getting it all back together.

Then I'm meeting Rachael at a fish joint on the Caloosahatchee. It will be good to share the shit with someone who’s neck deep. She said it’s so good to “talk about this with someone who understands.”

Absolutely. I think there are more people engaged in the struggle for survival than she can IMAGINE. I should buy groceries today, but I’ll settle for a shock top, a seafood appetizer and GREAT conversation instead.

(GRATEFUL FOR: getting back in touch with an old friend.)

*That's the thing about Buddhism. Death is just part of the cycle - life/death/rebirth - repeat. If you really believe, it's not such a big deal.

Stupid People

BUY A DICTIONARY

The news just reported that a helicopter crashed into a pool house in Naples. In describing the crash live by remote, the reporter said the helicopter had collapsed on impact and the pilot had to be "excavated".

King Tut had to be excavated. I imagine this pilot had to be extricated.

THE SINS OF SEAFOOD

Peta is on the bridge to Fort Myers Beach today protesting fathers who fish.

I'm blonde, I don't fish for fear I'll catch one worth eating and be asked to help clean it.

I'm Buddhist, I don't fish for fear I'll catch one and hurt it. Even in a catch and release scenario (like relationships), there is danger the fish won't survive.

PETA members are carrying banners that say something like "Fathers - spare the rod." Why on earth would you wave banners intended to make fathers feel guilty about HOW they spend time with their kids? Even if you did get them to stop fishing, will they suddenly decide to go vegan? DOUBTFUL.

I was reading a Buddhist publication a few weeks back. One article explained that it's inappropriate to condemn the butcher if your family eats meat.

WORLD'S WORST MILITARY MOM

A local woman on a Fort Myers freeboard is giving away her son's cat "because he's in the Marines and I can't take care of it."

She posted photos, so I decided to look and see how old and feeble she is that she can't take care of the cat while her son serves our country.

This woman is in her 40s.

Why does this piss me off so much?! Because it shows zero empathy for the cat and her son.

When my son joined the Navy, he was worried about a lot of things. When he found out he was being sent to Sicily, he was especially upset at the thought he might never see his aging cat again. The cat's welfare was a serious issue.

We would have never dreamed of putting Sylvester to sleep or giving him away.

One of Shawn's friends offered to take Sylvester in and - sure enough - the cat was still alive when Shawn returned three years later. He was losing his teeth and having trouble gumming his food, but he was obviously happy to be "home again".

Sylvester died about a month later; he had held on long enough to say good-bye to Shawn.

A world where women are in charge.

At Lugu Lake in China, Mosuo women call the shots, own the property, freely choose (and discard) sexual partners and keep the faith, which is a blend of Buddhism and Animism.

As in the Jewish tradition, the lineage passes through the mother. Unlike most cultures, in this one from the tender age of 13 the young woman (girl) is able to choose her partner and begin her sequence of "walking marriages". I saw this on National Geographic last night and was so fascinated I can't get it out of my head.

If you have time for a preview of what National Geographic has covered, take a look at this quick video. When you have more time, track down the full program on cable.
http://video.nationalgeographic.com/video/player/news/culture-places-news/china-mosuo-apvin.html

I'm BORROWING from some websites I found. I'll post links at the bottom.

The isolation of the Mosuo people, who have lived in the remote lower reaches of the Tibetan plateau for more than 1,500 years, have enabled them to preserve a way of life once common in Tibet. Most of the rest of China believes that "it is better to have a dog than a daughter" and women are treated, at best, as second class citizens.

The Mosuo women, however, are free from such attitudes. Indeed, male and female roles are almost reversed: women run the households, hold the purse strings and - to the fascination of their Chinese neighbours - choose their nightly sexual partners.

Relationships among the Mosuo can last for a night, a decade or a lifetime. From the age of 18 women court the local men. After a coming-of-age ceremony, the woman moves from sleeping near the hearth at the front of the house to her own room at the back where she may receive her lovers.

After a time the women settle down, sleeping regularly with the same man, although they do not necessarily stick with him forever.

Each Mosuo household is headed by a woman who lives with her brothers, sons, daughters and grandchildren. In the evening the adult men leave to visit their partners and the fathers of the children of the house come calling. Such arrangements are known as "walking marriages".

In the Mosuo language there are no words for father, illegitimacy, single mother, widow, jealousy, virgin, or monogamy. The explanation is simple: these concepts do not exist.

Men, who have accepted their passive role, hang around waiting to be picked as a mate or to be told to haul fish from the deep, clear waters of Lake Lugu. It is an arrangement that suits one of the fishermen, Ai Le Shan Ma, 38, very well. Sitting by a smoky fire with his "brother-in-law", Shan Ma claimed that walking marriages take the stress out of a relationship.
He said: "Our 'marriage' is better because it is for love only. I come over at night because I want to. If we didn't get on, if we fought all the time, we would split and find other partners."

Though Mosuo men live with their mother, and are not responsible for rearing their own children, they have the duty to help bring up the children of their sisters. In a Mosuo family, uncles are the decision makers on external affairs. They have an adage, "The biggest flying thing in the sky is eagle, the biggest walking thing on the earth is uncle." When they get old, their nieces and nephews attend upon them until their death.

The dominant role of women in Mosuo society is a unique remnant of a life that was once common in this part of China. As ancient wars took away the men, women assumed control.

The tradition has survived only on the shores of Lake Lugu. Perched at an altitude of 9,000ft, the area first came to Western attention in the 1920s through the writings of Joseph Rock, National Geographic's reporter in China, whose work inspired James Hilton's classic novel Lost Horizon.

This chunk is from a great blog I found from a writer who moved from China to Boston:
http://www.insideoutchina.com/2009/01/mosuo-walking-marriage-on-lugu-lake-2.html
All relationships are based on love. A big matriarchal family with tens of members is filled with joy and peace. Children are loved by multiple mothers. Elders calmly enjoy their final years with a loving family. In another thousand years, will we Han evolve to such an ideal state? But the vanguard Mosuo people already began the heavenly life 1500 years ago.

One morning I was photographing a sunrise at the lakeside, and ran into a bunch of tourists waiting for a bus to return to Lijiang. A fifty-ish northern woman was talking volubly. She said, "Yesterday I asked the young man rowing the boat, 'You sing and laugh all day, do you ever have an unhappy moment?' But he asked me back, 'What is "unhappy"?'

I wasn't convinced and again asked a girl who was washing her hands in the lake, 'Are there times that you feel unhappy?' She replied, 'Unhappy? Why unhappy?'"At this point the northern woman got very excited and raised her voice, "Look! They don't even know what unhappy means! They are always happy!"

Her companion replied that nobody can always be happy. The woman argued, "They don't suffer extramarital affairs or property disputes like in our Han families, why shouldn't they be always happy?"Her friend teased, "Sounds like heaven, then why don't you stay here?"

The woman said seriously, "I really wish I were a Mosuo woman!"

That was the moment I understood why my friend has lived here contentedly for ten years.

Links to sources I "borrowed" from:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/1327927/Chinese-men-threaten-lake-of-free-love-where-women-rule.html

http://www.insideoutchina.com/2009/01/mosuo-walking-marriage-on-lugu-lake-2.html

China's Instant Karma

Nobody is saying it. So I will.

China has been raining down shit on Tibet since what - 57? More recently to an extent where there is global outcry and protest of the olympics ... China's day in the sun, their opportunity to show "how far they've come".

Well, when you've come "that" far you don't rain down shit on ancient, peaceful, spiritually based cultures ... DO YOU? You don't spend decades destroying temples, killing and imprisoning monks and nuns.

DO YOU???!!!

I just find it interesting that the violence has been rained back down on the perpetrators in such a dramatic way. An earthquake, totally shaking things up, killing the innocent of a country that kills innocents.

I am remembering a photo years back of a fire on a hillside in California where the only home that went unscathed was inhabited by a Buddhist. (I tried to find it online, but couldn't. Oh well, the image is permanently affixed to my memory banks.)

And I recall one of my favorite Far Side cartoons, wherein a white bearded God in flowing white robes is sitting at his computer screen looking at some hapless fool ... preparing to click the "smite" key.

The irony here is that every good Buddhist will be praying for the Chinese who are enduring this profound tragedy. Despite what they have done to the world's most compassionate people.

I will pray too.

Lyme Disease, BFs, FeeBay and Other Annoyances

The temp is 50 degrees right now - 7:13 a.m., Cape Coral, the BF's house. I am in tee, sweats, a fleece robe left behind by a past guest and our big thick chair blanket. I'm lookin sorta Navajo.

This cold makes my Lyme Disease act up. Yesterday I woke up and gave it up. Worked from home, then drove in around 2.

Stopped at a light behind a New Hampshire vehicle. Their "Live Free or Die" motto was altered by an errant plate bolt that made the message look like "Olive Free or Die", which seemed more appropriate to Sicily.

I find my humor where I can.

Got in to work, my pulse racing and feeling like crap. But I love that job and those people, started obsessing some projects and my symptoms finally went away.

Around 4 my high-functioning-alcholic-previously-ex-boyfriend texted me asking if I wanted any wings from the biker bar. Always alarming, a text from the Dek at 4. Shrugged it off, had stuff to do.

Got home at 8 ... he wasn't there. I text him "you're with (insert name of asshole.)" He says yeah, will be home soon. I text, stay as long as you want, it doesn't matter. He writes back, "back soon - it does matter."

In five weeks he's going to be gone for 7 months. It had better matter. I'm feeling good about him, but then he doesn't show up. We're talking big time deal with the drunk night. I knew he was with the guy across the street who totally cheeses me off ... treats his Russian girlfriend like Michael Vick treated his dogs. My thoughts in regard to him are not consistent with my faith in Buddhism. So sometimes I backslide. Given the opportunity, I may tear his black heart out and shove it in his face.

Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

10 pm I fall asleep in the chair. Still not there. 11 pm I take my sorry butt to bed with the girls and turn on Sex and the City. It's the one where Carrie dates the jazz guy and whatsherface decides to be lesbian for a while. That's not one of my favorite episodes. I fall asleep.

The BF starts clanging around midnight or one a.m. Remember I'm not feeling well.

He comes to bed around 2, laughing, turning on lights, playing with the dogs. I tell him I need my sleep. My joints are screaming from the Lyme and I don't want to take anything for it.

He goes out and I hear him snoring in the chair in front of the TV. He comes back to bed around 3 and snores there. Then around 6 he's blowing bar breath in my face. I put my hand up against his face so he can get a whiff himself. Then I give up/get up.

Broken dishes in the kitchen. Well, it's his house and his ugly garage sale dishes so I could care less. There is a 4 lb. pork shoulder roast in the microwave. I don't know how long that's been there. The fancy thingamajig remote I'm not allowed to touch is above the kitchen sink, far from it's place of use. And the TV won't turn on ... he effed it up somehow. He will not be pleased when he finally rises. He will have no one else to blame.

So I start the day off fairly cranky. I will have to remember this behavior when he goes back to Michigan in April. It will be good to be back in my pretty condo in Fort Myers.

Someone's supposed to interview me by phone about eBay today, did I join the boycott, etc. No, I saw it wasn't working, gave it every chance in hell, worked harder, worked smarter and felt like I was working for them. Got pissed and pulled my store.

I've been looking for another online store because I do have a nice inventory of vintage costume jewelry. Found one I liked and it was part and parcel of the eBay cartel. ProStores I thought it was.

eBay feels like a hero that has fallen, a friend who took care of me while I was sick but stabbed me in the back a few years later. I spent a lot of time writing my book and I paid much tribute to eBay. (It's "Sick Mick's Guide to Selling Antiques & Collectibles" - available at Amazon or on my own cheesy book site, http://www.sickmick.com/. What I wrote about using online auctions should hold true for any solid merchant service.)

I've been thinking about what to say when I get interviewed. Mostly I don't think ANYONE realizes how much people who are chronically ill depended on eBay for funds in a country that doesn't take care of those who really need it.

So now they don't even have eBay. That upsets me greatly.

Dropped my book off at a local consignment shop I like a lot. The owner seemed delighted. We cut a deal where I'll take my share in trade. She has good stuff.

She's "More Taste than Money" in Fort Myers.

Dreams ... I do dreamwork. I have a recurring dream that I have fallen into a canal. The first time I was terrified, felt like I was dropped from a helicopter ... the water was clear and warm but I was scared to death. There was another, I can't remember. And there was the one this morning ... somehow I was in the canal swimming. There was green foliage at the surface, so I dove underwater where it was clear and beautiful! It was euphoric. I rose to get a breath of air and saw a woman terrified to bein the water. Her mouth was open in horror. And I kept telling her "it's ok, you're ok, dive - it's beautiful."

Not sure what it meant. I think it represented the difference between those who fear death and those who have strong faith in "the other side."

Or maybe it was a reminder from my guides not to take anything at face value.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I remember a long time ago ... I was very unhappy with my second husband. (Don't judge me - I have been a serial marrier:-)

And I went to see a shrink and he asked me "what makes you happy?" I couldn't think of ANYTHING. Fortunately, I had some wisdom at that time. I didn't blame my lack of happiness (there is a difference, I think, between unhappiness and lack of it) on my now ex. But the situation did become unbearable over time.

Fast forward 16 years.

In Buddhism we seek inner peace, not happiness. Happiness is fleeting, it always has the seed of discontent.

Yesterday was a stellar example of the principle. It was an incredible day here in SW Florida. The BF wanted to take the boat out and try our hand at fishing. Joking that we wouldn't know what we caught if we caught it, I rushed out and bought a license. I hoped he would forsake the beer cooler since it wasn't even noon yet; but I was naive.

He barked at me that I had taken too long getting my license. I left him last winter because the emotional abuse was overwhelming ... but now, with my own condo, my own car and my own job - he is not the main course in this meal of life. He is only dessert when I choose to hang out.

I considered telling him to go alone but he caught himself. When you know what they're doing, when you learn about the abusive relationship, the awareness makes it all a little less painful. Knowledge is power. (Read "The Emotionally Abusive Relationship" if you're in a relationship like this. It talks about the dynamic that brings people like us together ... we are moths to a flame drawn to others with flawed childhoods.)

Back to the day. In our two most recent boating escapades he damaged the boat. One day we will not be so lucky. You would think with the time consuming and sometimes expensive repairs he has had to make in the past month or two, he would realize maybe the problem is more him than the boat.

So I am very careful about going out with him.

Yesterday was incredibly beautiful. He had an idea about where to go in the Caloosahatchee River (which feeds out into the Gulf of Mexico) and we anchored across from the Yacht Club in Cape Coral. The tide was coming in and boats were passing. The sun was warm and I put my feet out over the back where they would be splashed; and enjoyed myself.

We started catching Sea Trout. They were beautiful, I was not prepared for that - the colors, the eyes. The BF told me to feel one and it was like satin, you could feel no scales. He said they have natural "bling" and we laughed. We released them - I think there were 12 in all. There was something big down there - several of our lures were chopped right off. They're heavy duty plastic. He said "whatever that was, we wouldn't have wanted it in the boat anyway."

We listened to CCR, Hendrix and Queen. It was idyllic. The BF was going easy with the beers, drinking very slowly. And I remember thinking "I'm happy" ... but feeling anxious about it. And I remembered the Buddhist concept of happiness having the potential for discontent.

So I just tried to shove the discontent out of my mind. When the fish stopped biting, we trolled into the Bimini Basin and I caught one more trout.

It was fun. But I was getting overheated and sunburned - I wanted to go home. The BF trolled us back to the house. That's around the time I realized that even with a minimum of beer, he was drunk.

We got into the house and he started slamming things, repeating himself every two minutes and talking loudly over the movie I wanted to watch. He wanted me to go get burgers. I had been drinking beer too - I said no. I said I would get us pizza if he wanted.

Nothing I said was right, no suggestion to his liking. So I finally ordered from Sal's online. It cost $35 I really didn't want to spend. I am so careful with money these days.

He ate, sobering some, but taking great care to complain every five minutes. He looked across at me and accused me of not "reading" (he reads two books a week - fiction). I said I do read, only it's the real stuff - NONfiction.

In his brain I had somehow slipped off into the "inadequate" zone. Is there anything more exhilarating than slamming the person who puts up with you? I work 45 hours a week while he relaxes all winter.

Drunks should have some little "crown" that appears so the world can acknowledge their brilliance and absolute control. I asked him if he realized he was being a bitch and he glared. When he started snoring, I went to bed.

I dreamed I was in my Grandma's blue living room again. I keep having that dream since she passed. I think she's pulling me in there with her. She loved that house. I grew up there. Also yesterday one of the dogs' squeeze toys made a very subtle moan. I always like it when Gram visits. I guess she follows me, even at the BF's place.

When I awakened, I pulled Bodhi (the little black and white Shih Tzu in my photos) up on me before getting out of bed and gave her many scratches about the head and chin. Then I realized that the rare times when happiness DOES appear without the seed of discontent it is in the presence of animals. A dog on the lap, curled asleep ... a cat's gentle pur. They are the only source of unconditional love; and so deserving of it themselves.

Interactions with humans take so much work.

Anyway. The BF wants to go to Picnic Island today. I have no idea what mood he's going to be in when he gets up. Picnic has disaster written all over it. Other friends are going to Sanibel today by boat and the husband loves to drink with the BF. That's who he should go with.

I'd prefer to hang out with my dogs and get shit done. That's what will give me peace.

The Boozer and the Buddhist

Cape Coral, 9 a.m. It's a little cool ... pulled some shorts under my t-shirt and had a glass of fresh orange juice out by the canal. Princess my Lhasa/? joined me. The water is clear today, out to about 8 feet. No big fishies, only a few minnows.

It's overcast. Very peaceful, only the sound of distant Harleys.

The BF is up, in his robe, attempting to be as charming as is humanly possible with a raging hangover. He even made the coffee.

I texted him from work yesterday at 4. He was at the bar with the neighbor already ... he has been trying to drink far less since we got back together. Operative word being "was". Friday night is my big night after a tough week. Most weekdays I'm asleep by 8 or 9. He's only in town til spring. We only have so much time.

He called at 8 from the Monkey Bar saying I should come out and meet up with the others. He was already slurring. Let them babysit, I stayed home and watched the rest of Season 1 of the Tudors on demand. I was tempted to go back to my place in Fort Myers, back where it's peaceful and I know what to expect.

But he has all the channels.

He came in about 11:30 so hammered he could hardly walk. He said they "abandoned" him in the middle of Cape Coral. His back is bad, he was truly having trouble walking. He was also having trouble talking, repeating himself every two minutes. I have to stay up when he's like that or I'm afraid he'll sit on one of the dogs. Sounds funny. It's so NOT. He gets scary drunk. At one point I couldn't find him in the house and he was standing outside in the darkness, looking dangerous, like he was plotting something. His temper shifts on a dime when he's like that.

He came in and said "they" (the neighbors ... the emotionally abusive alcoholic guy with the beautiful submissive Russian girlfriend) want to go out on the water so she can use her new kayak. He said "they'll take their boat and we'll take ours and we'll take the kayaks to Picnic Island."

We've gone out on the boat exactly twice since we got back together around Christmas. The first time we went to Pincher's on the river in North Fort Myers - actually had a ball, one of those rare instances where I let loose with the margaritas. We left after sunset, were headed out on the river and hit a channel mark post HARD. Enough to do pretty significant damage to the boat.

Of course he didn't see how bad it was until morning.

The next time we went to Fort Myers Beach by boat to meet up with above-referenced Emotionally Abusive Alcoholic and Submissive Russian who is living in hell. When you're not a boozer, events like that are as boring as reading a phone book. The sun was starting to set. It takes 45 minutes to get home from that part of Estero to Cape Coral and it was getting cold. The BF was drunk. I said "we need to leave." I said it three times before I grabbed my stuff, held it over my head and waded out. He finally came.

Waves started to increase in size a bit. He was hammered. His biker buddy Dennis was with us. I like Dennis. He tells stuff like it is. Dennis was drunk too. It's an awful feeling to be at the mercy of drunks. We were in the wake of a big boat and a large wave rolled in at us - we hit it hard, knocking me AND my seat towards the BF as he drove. The force of the impact ripped the bolted seat right off the floor. Dennis caught me and the chair before we could injure the BF.

The BF said "wo - where'd THAT come from?" Well if you weren't so drunk you would have SEEN it.

Then it got dark and he couldn't find our canal. We were dragging bottom. There are rocks there and I always worry about what PREDATORS are in there. Christmas lights had already been taken down and a lot of houses were dark. We find our canal based on the features of the various houses. The spirits (some people call them angels ... I call loved ones who have passed spirits) must have been with me in the darkness.

He was drunk, confused and a little afraid of ruining the boat. For once he listened to me and I (we) got us back.

I expected a giant bruise and hip pain the next day ... but it wasn't bad.

When the BF inspected the damage ... which is becoming a morning-after tradition ... he said "Dennis broke the seat." So I straightened him out on that and he didn't appreciate it. (I thought "Just because you have a blackout doesn't mean life didn't go on with your worst persona behind the wheel.")

I say it like it is now, then I walk away and let him stew on it. I don't waste my breath while he's drunk. I've learned that much.

So we are two for two in having trouble with the boating. I told him before I broke up last time I was never going out on the boat with him again, he turns into ... God, I can't even describe the transformation. It's dangerous. Not him so much as the way he drives the boat. He used to be a master, now he can't be trusted. I told a friend "if I die in an accident, it will be on the water."

So this morning I woke up with two dreams.

In one were were at some party town on the water. And the next thing I know, people are swimming IN the water, playing games as darkness sets. And I am (it's a dream, remember) in bed 30 ' below and I see a 20' shark swimming at them. And I'm wondering why I'm not floating upwards and thinking I should probably try to get UNDER the bed before the shark sees me.

I'd say based on that dream it's not a good idea to go out with them to Picnic Island today. I have insisted I will not go if the beer goes, but the beer is always first when it comes to boating.

My other dream was cool. I was reading John Edwards book on communing with the dead yesterday and he talked about his aunt sending him signs as she was dying ... first she's at the airport, then she's boarding the plane, then ...

I dreamed I was on a plane with the BF and a woman who looked just like my Gram walked down the aisle. I poked him and said "LOOK!" He said "what?" I said "that woman looks just like my Gram!!" The woman was very calm. She looked at me and smiled. (My Gram died of dementia, she was anything but calm. Other dreams since her death have explained much ... we can finally communicate again.)

If I had known it was a dream, I would have known it was her hanging out, saying hi. That's always such a comfort. She doesn't move pictures or shake the bed at the BF's house:-)

I want to make a comment about alcoholism. I've been to Alanon meetings, I dislike that they assess blame to the partner. I have nothing to do with the BF's alcoholism. I don't need to feel emotionally abused, seek refuge in Alanon and have them pack the bags for a guilt trip based on my "enabling." Bite me - I do not enable. I endure the situation until I can't endure no more.

Alanon is a good wake up call. Go to see how people live when they love alcoholics. At one such meeting an alcoholic who had been told to attend a meeting put her hand on my shoulder and said "Know that Alcholics are usually attracted people who are kind and caring."

If you go, please remember that the concept of "codependence" has been considered dangerous and destructive by some therapists. (See "The Emotionally Abusive Relationship" ... can't remember the author's name.)

Overall I prefer the Buddhist approach of seeing the situation clearly for what it is and having arranged my life so that I can leave when his problem gets unbearable. One day I may never come back. Maybe one of us will die or meet someone else.

It would be so much better to be in a relationship where I didn't need an escape route, but this is the hand life has dealt me. As long as the companionship and laughs exceed the stress and tears, I'll hang around.