See Next Rock: March 2013

Monday, March 4, 2013

Is Everything Under Control Buddy?

“Is everything under control buddy?" My father must have asked me this question thousands of times during his life. I am not exaggerating. I always knew it was coming and I always dreaded it-that pit in my stomach growing. What was he looking for? Why the probing? Did he really want to know? What will he think of me if I tell him what is really going on?

Invariably I would say: yes, everything’s under control. Instead of: Well Dad, I flunked Algebra this semester. Or, My girlfriend broke up with me and I feel so alone. Or... A cop stopped me last night for drunk driving…he let me go but it was close. Or...Today I agreed with a racist comment and I’m ashamed of myself. Or...Yesterday a friend of mine died of breast cancer…she was only 29. Or...I’m sorry to tell you this Dad but after only two years my wife and I are getting a divorce. Argh.

I didn’t want to worry him over any unpleasant truths. He worried enough for us all already. Nor, I’m sad to say, did I really want to share my happiness with him at times. I just felt there was way too much criticism coming my way whatever I said, and more questions I didn’t really want to answer, or confront. He seemed to be always so worried about me. I just didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t see his twist on reality behind the question.

My father had a generous portion of happiness in his life as well as a generous portion of all the problems life can bring. He saw that bad things happened to good people and they happened to him too. He feared that some changes were ominous warnings of immanent disaster. He was always thinking “what if” and trying to gain some control over the possible result. Impermanence could become permanent and that was worrisome. He wanted his family to be safe and happy…always. His intentions were loving and pure. Mission impossible.

My father taught me an important lesson here by accident: I need to see things the way they are, not how I want them to be, and deal with them from that perspective. I don’t have to “personalize” an unpleasant situation being experienced by my friends or family. It’s not me who is having this experience. They are. I need to look at each situation as it arises more calmly and not just react. I need to ask myself: what can I do to help? If there’s nothing I can do, maybe just being there for them is enough. I can practice more ‘loving-kindness’… towards everyone.

I wish my father were here today. And when he asked me that inevitable question “Is everything under control buddy?” I could give him a different answer. I’d say: I love you too Dad.

Friday, March 1, 2013

A Meditation on Provocative Hairy Legs

Late this morning I took a walk up to the Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden. This 86 acre garden of mostly native California plants is only 35 miles from downtown L.A. but the city does not intrude on its’ serenity. I’m lucky to be able to walk there in under 10 minutes. There are miles of paths running through it but often I see no one. It’s just me walking around. Amazing.

Today though I decided to sit down and relax for a while. I sat on a bench facing a mixture of young Redwood trees and a few other conifers. I didn’t bother to learn the names of these other trees. Why would it matter what they are called?

I must have sat there for at least an hour and during that hour I relaxed…really, really relaxed. The air smelled sweet and the temperature was perfect. The sky was blue. I had on a pair shorts, some beaten up New Balance running shoes that don’t see any running, an old collared short sleeve golf shirt, and a baseball cap. I’m quite the clotheshorse.

After sitting there awhile, trying not to think about anything, I noticed this gentle breeze brushing the hair on my legs. I didn’t feel it much on my arms and not at all on my freshly shaved face. The hairs above my lip are stiff… so they weren’t waving in this breeze. The 53 hairs on the top of my head weren’t waving either as they were “protected” by my cap. The prevailing sensation and therefore my focus, was on these hairy legs. Those hairs were blowing this way and that…creating a very pleasant sensation…a kind of a mini massage really. Provocative, stimulating, and nice. I concentrated on this for quite some time. After a while it occurred to me that without the breeze I wouldn’t be experiencing these sensations. Indeed, the air and the hair…were one. :) And even as I understood this and merged into this feeling, I couldn’t escape being conscious of witnessing this event from another perspective. Pretty interesting stuff…if you know what I mean.

Anyway, in my neighborhood I see many people walking dogs. There must be thousands of dogs in this town. Some of these people put clothes and sometimes even hats on these dogs. This always strikes me as funny. I wonder how the dogs feel about this. I imagine they just suffer some minor annoyance and then…acceptance. I try not to judge the people who dress their dogs…at least not too harshly. Many of these dog walkers are women and I believe many women enjoy changing their appearance…as do some men. Shaving your legs can do that. Most people who shave their legs are women. I suppose these women think that their dogs need a new look too. Most of the men who walk dressed-up dogs wear long pants so I don’t know if they shave their legs or not. Of course, if you are trying to change your appearance you are trying to change your identity in some way. You are trying to say something about yourself or have others think something about you. We all do this to a degree...acting on a stage. Some of us deserve Oscar nominations at the very least. But getting back to hairy legs: I’m not shaving mine. I would miss these little mini-massages. Ladies, you might want to consider letting the hair grow on your legs too. Just think how good it might feel in a nice breeze! A never-ending day at the Spa! On the other hand… maybe not.

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Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden

http://www.rsabg.org