Khan's Castle

These days, if I was asked, I would probably identify myself as a Buddhist. Having said that, I would also say that my Buddhist training has helped me see farther into Jesus' teaching and has made me a better Christian in ways that seem important to me. In light of what I've learned from Shakyamuni and Jesus—the two people in this world that were so different from everyone around them that others asked what they were not just who they were—I wish everyone—and as much as is possible for this unenlightened person, I really mean everyone—the very best of Christmas.

For me, this Christmas is a time of change, renewal, and of acknowledgement of reality. A time of compassion and reconciliation, of struggle and release. A time of giving and receiving, of teaching and learning. A time of thinking and feeling, of compassion and love.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Finished the last of Cowboy Bebop the other day thinking, "What a great series!" It has a great combination of elements: Characters, story, setting, artwork, and music. Really good music, written by Yoko Kanno, performed by her band, the Seatbelts, with Mai Yamane often singing lead. I highly recommend it for anime for an teen and up audience.

While out Christmas shopping yesterday, we picked up ThinkFun Rush Hour Deluxe Edition as a game for the house. It's a really fun puzzle type game, all about working your car out of gridlock. Fun for hours.

My mind has been scattered lately and sitting down to write just wasn't happening. So just that rambling may serve:

Why are mechanical pencils sold in stores in bags of ten? Don't you just replace the lead instead of the pencil?

I think the thing I dislike about the Christmas season the most is The Twelve Days of Christmas. I just hate that song. And of course, that right there is a great thing to work on, that is, letting go of an aversion to a silly song. Yes, a great thing, but a really hard one, too.

It would be very helpful if the beeper on my hp-50g was louder. When using it as a timer for meditation outside, I have to set half a dozen alarms to make sure I hear it. Admittedly, using the thing that way is a touch outside what the designers had in mind. It was available, what can I say?

And writing the code to allow for easy entry of an alarm song for said calculator may not pass a rigid cost/benefit analysis. And besides, it's tedious as all get out programming on a 2" x 3" screen.

During my 40 minute outdoor meditation Sunday morning, I was straffed not once, but twice, by a very low-flying airplane that bore an uncanny resemblence to my twelve year old daughter. On the second pass, I got tapped on the head by a putative wingtip as it swooshed by. Nonplussed as I was, my face knew what to do and simply could not contain the grin that blossomed from a deep paternal love of her, her rascalness, and her gift of a priceless moment in meditation.

At age 50, I still like practicing wheelies on my mountain bike. There's a silly joy there. It's just fun!

My little friend, the crab spider that set up shop in my front yard for the whole summer and fall, has disappeared for the winter, I think. That tiny creature always brought me a smile. I hope to see it again in the spring.

With these odds and ends, I notice that there are some delightful moments there. It's been good to write them down and see them.

It's a rainy night outside, still life inside.

Life's choices echo in the silence. Grief lingers as images of the past drift in and out of thought. We both did the best we could, didn't we?

I was at party the other night and at it were a number of people quite different from me. That fact, via a later conversation, made me realize this: Not voicing a judgement about someone or something is not the same thing as not making a judgement in the first place. While controlling our actions is a good thing, if the mind isn't controlled, integrity is compromised. Control the mind and the actions will follow. Freeing the mind from the habit of judgement is, I think, a major step in spiritual growth and part of doing that is ceasing to cling to the desire that things be different than they are.

Less serious stuff:

Finished the first DVD of Outlaw Star. While I don't like the music too much and the quality of the animation is mediocre, I enjoy the characters and the overall story.

Attachments.

Boy, I can really cause myself some trouble with those things!

I speak with a friend on the phone and joy over the conversation manifests. And then it happens as it has before: I cling. I want a guarantee that I'll have more of it in the future. And then fear and anxiety about it threatens to obliterate the joy that was so obviously present not five minutes prior. The rollercoaster leaves the station!

My prayer is that I can learn to enjoy what comes my way, to accept the good in life, and to be able to trust that more will come, that I'll be OK, that I don't have to try to manipulate people and things to keep me safe, that safety is not in holding on tighter, but in letting go.

The Tomatometer weighs in at 73% for Wanted, the movie starring, among others, Angelina Jolie. I sure wouldn't be that generous with it. It's the first film in a very long time that I almost turned off. If I hadn't been watching it with a friend, I would have.

Loss is something that sticks with me, for whatever reason. I have no idea if I'm unusual in the degree to which I feel it. I have no way of knowing, but my guess is that my feelings, both in content and intensity, are as common as leaves on trees. Things that get me sometimes:

• My dog that had to be put down in 1990. Such a great companion! I haven't wanted a dog since. It may be odd that this is at the top of this list, but it always is.
• Losing a particular climbing partner when I moved away from the area for good. That was hard enough, but after an email argument over politics and the years passing, I only get to talk to him when visiting. Nowadays, he and his wife have a lot on their plate, and so for now, there's legitimately no opportunity.
• My first and only marriage. I was and am devastated. Not much else to say about that except that I can now freely admit my share of blame for it.
• The .22 rifle that my Dad gave me for Christmas when I was 12. It's not the thing that was important, it was the connection with my Dad that it represented.
• Time lost not doing what I really wanted to do because I was afraid of failing or of what people might think.
• Aspects of a relationship with one friend are being lost, something I struggle with.

A wise and compassionate friend mentioned that he views some of these things as change, not loss.

And with that advice, I remember that my suffering is all in my state of mind. Things are impermanent and not letting attachments own me is where my work is.