Downers

I'll admit it, I'm in a negative mood today. I found making a list of icky things I have to do now, and it made me feel better.

Things that drag me down:

• Paying a tax accountant to do my taxes, after admitting defeat and filing for an extension.
• Rewrapping and returning a very large heavy item, paying UPS and at restocking fee, because it appeared identical to me to the actual item I should have ordered.
• Putting an assortment of pages, taken from various sadhanas to photocopy, back in the right place.
• Telling my good friend that I found a check I had promised him I would offer to great lama on his behalf, long after the lama has returned to Tibet.
• Having a Targus Chill Mat—a device that keeps one’s Macbook from frying ones thighs-- break one month after I bought it, and reading the warrantee: which covers “defects” but does not cover “wear and tear” or “consequential or incidental damage.” Should I bother trying to return it?
• Calling Brinks about discontinuing my alarm service and finding I signed a three-year contract that I am obligated to pay no matter what.
• Being able to sit cross legged on a cushion for three hours one day, and not being able to do it the next day.
• Filing.
• Having my dishwasher break about one year one month after purchase, and coming to terms with the fact that having any repair person do anything to it costs just about as much as buying a new one.
• Having Christians make elaborate devotional prayers to God and Jesus out loud on behalf of everyone in a group I am apart of. (silent is fine).
• Having to explain to Jehovah’s witnesses at the door that, no, I don’t believe in God, nor in “creation,” nor that the universe is so ingenious that it must have been made by someone really smart.
• That I can’t cut and paste things from Word into my Blogger blog using safari—while I can using Firefox.

Thank you for listening!

Seasonal Check-in

All important me, school photo, 1964, Age 5

Soon after my last post a Tibetan family moved in with me unexpectedly.  You know, Tibetan dharma people have a keen sense of modesty, and it felt plain wrong to go on reporting on my life for the world to see because I have been so closely intertwined with them.

I had a related conversation with a lama I encountered this morning.  I recently volunteered to scan a group of old photos he carries with him into my computer.  They have unique pictures of some of the great Nyingma masters of the 20th century, and I was sad to think they might be lost.  Of course, I haven't shown them to anyone.  I offered to make CD's of them, so the lama could give them away as gifts.  In a conversation this morning I found that idea was not warmly received.  The lama was concerned that the photos would end up in the internet, posted in association with his own name.  It might then be perceived that he was trying to increase his own status by linking himself publicly to these high lamas or siddhas.

Certainly, there are a lot of examples of this on the internet.  Sometimes it seems from lama's websites that the most poorly regarded lamas have the best teachers, because they have pics of all the great lamas with themselves.  

This, of course, makes me nervous about my blog--and also a personal journal I am keeping of my life in the Vajrayana--like a Carlos Castenada or Lynn Andrews adventure, except true.  Since I was about 16 years old I have written for publication, and I was an early heavy utilizer of the internet even before the WWW--so writing and sharing like this is an enjoyable habit for me.  But how often am I simply boosting my ego, versus writing for the benefit of others?

Egotism is the hardest emotional affliction to see in ourselves.  It seems that many of us are finely perched on a razor thin fulcrum between excessive pride and low-self esteem.  It is as though this is a see-saw for us merely because we only experience these two dimensions--positive versus negative self esteem.  Or is that one dimension? The dimension of Buddha nature--the indwelling potency of sentient beings that can neither be enhanced or diminished, merely revealed or obscured--is unknown to us.

Auspicious or Inauspicious?

The day before yesterday my car suddenly started making a terrible noise while I was cruising around the farmland of the Valley.  I made it into a small town--what was the name of that place?--after hours, and some kind people helped me hook up with a mechanic.  I was surprized to find that my 99 Chevy Tracker with 75,000 miles on it was given a terminal diagnosis.  I limped back to my hotel, and started home the next day, hoping to make it to Oakland on prayer power.

I didn't.  But I did almost make it to auto dealership row in Vacaville.  My old car found a lovely place to die, with plenty of helpful people, and lots of wildflowers.  I got a ride to the local Honda dealership and they agreed to take me out to get all my stuff out of the old car, tow it in at their convenience, in exchange for me buying a new one on the spot.  That's right, I bought a new car that way!  A powder blue Honda 2008 CRV.  Put all my stuff in it, and off I went!

When I got back home, I found I was needed here. Lama Pema Dorje Rinpoche and his family are coming back from Asia on Friday, and I need a bigger car and time to get ready.

So, was this all auspicious or inauspicious?  I would say the later.

South Butte

Two views of South Butte

I stayed an extra couple of days at the Hampton Inn in Yuba City, just to enjoy my solitude, quiet, and air conditioning--which gave me some relief from the awful allergy season we've been having.  Later in the day, when the pollen had subsided, and leisurely morning practices were done, I circumambulated the Buttes by car.

The Maidu people of the central valley called the Buttes Histum Yani, and believed that people's spirits (I guess we would say bardo being in Buddha-speak) come to the tallest mountain in the Buttes when they die, as a layover spot.  I can believe it.  If there are any Maidu people reading this blog, I would love to talk with you about that. According to modern calculations, I suppose this would be South Butte.  I feel it is appropriate now, that this is a telecommunications place for antennae and dishes--invisible links from great distances.  Apparently, Homeland Security has some interest in the top of South Butte also.  That's good, keep that place secure!  It's on a private ranch anyway, that doesn't allow visitors.

Just give me a ride up there one day, please.  One way or another.

Shaeffer Ranch

The general landscape

View of North Butte

The Shaeffer Ranch tour took us into the interior of an old family ranch in the Buttes, a rolling landscape studded with Blue Oak Trees and and volcanic rocks.

The interpretive guide from the Middle Mountain Foundation, and Mr. Shaeffer himself, shared lots of information about the history of the ranch, and the geology and spring wildflowers there.  I noticed how much I have changed.  I used to love that stuff, history and labeling objects.  Now, I am more interested in keeping to myself and watching what comes up internally and externally in the present moment.  There is always plenty of that!

It was a lovely day, with goodhearted people.

Sutter Buttes

If you are a regular reader, you may be wondering where I've been.  I've been turning inward for a while, exploring what relative solitude would feel like.  You would think that would be easy for single person with her own house and retreat hut, but actually not.

The first week since my last post I did a little practice intensive here at home, while a band of industrious men replaced the roof on my house.  During breaks between sessions I would go out and look, as well as continuing working with Laurie editing our Shitro text.  It's starting to look good!

Then, I got a spot on a hike at Sutter Buttes, through the Middle Mountain Foundation, and went for it.  The Buttes are a geologic formation of volcanic origin that rise up from the middle of the California's central valley.  They look like an island volcano, and actually they are.  The flat floor of the valley, now the home of industrial agriculture, was once thousands of feet deep and filled with water.  The fertile valley we see now is the result of sediment and debris building up until ot flooded only seasonally, then finally the human system of levees that eliminate even seasonal flooding.

The day long hike took us into a local ranch, which I will write about in the next post.