When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce. You look into the reasons it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun. You never blame the lettuce. Yet if we have problems with our friends or our family, we blame the other person. But if we know how to take care of them, they will grow well, like lettuce. Blaming has no positive effect at all, nor does trying to persuade using reason and arguments. That is my experience. No blame, no reasoning, no argument, just understanding. If you understand, and you show that you understand, you can love, and the situation will change. –   Thich Nhat Hanh

I do realize that this feeling of invisibility, of insignificance that I wrote about before is completely my own doing – a situation I’ve created for myself.  I’ve looked at everything other than who and what I am and in the end that’s where the answer lies.  Of course it is here, in me, where I battle my demons every day.  I feel what I allow myself to feel, I take in what I allow myself to take in and though I am affected by the people around me it is, ultimately, my responsibility to know who I am well enough to not let that shake me or dictate how I feel about myself.

In therapy we’ve discussed at length what it means to be me, this idea of who I am as a human being and how my major issue is less self-esteem and more an issue of a cloudy self-concept.  I’m supposed to be working on a detailed map of me, of who I am, so that when a difficult emotional situation comes along I can take a hit to my ego and still have a firm sense of self.  I’m working very hard on that and it involves so much looking inward that it’s ridiculous. It is all-consuming and means, at times, looking at some very ugly bits of myself and acknowledging that they are a part of who I am and then knowing I can love myself regardless.  I do not have to strive for perfection.  I’ve taken an opportunity to wander this city alone, contemplating my life, my past, the present, the future, all in search for this idea of self that seems so elusive.  I hoped that the unfamiliarity of this place, the anonymity and uncertainty, would allow me the opportunity to see myself free from the bonds of home, of the life I have back there and the person I am out of expectation and laziness.  As I wandered the beach and sat in the sand, as I looked out into the vast emptiness of the water, I realized that I’m at another crossroads.  Every moment is an opportunity to make a new decision, to change old habits, to turn toward a new direction.  All is not lost.  I am not stuck in this projection of a self.  I will always have the ability to change who and what I am as I need to.  Not as others need me to, no…as I see fit in order to live a healthy and productive life of compassion.  Where that compassion begins is in myself, is a compassion for myself, a forgiveness for being the imperfect human being I am every day and a desire to work harder.

Janie told me just the other day that for someone who professes to believe so much in Buddhist philosophy I sure don’t live up to all my talk.  I don’t live up to what I say I believe in.  I understand what she was trying to say but I also understand that she could not be more wrong.  I am not perfect in following my beliefs, I am not always able to be the person I intend to, I want to, I need to be – but I work hard every day to be a decent human being.  The trouble is that I often fall short and she has seen that more than enough, so I can understand how she’d believe I’m all talk.  But I know better.  I know who I am when it comes to my beliefs – and who I am is a kind, thoughtful and caring human being who will always work hard to see where I can be a more compassionate person.  I looked at her remark not as an insult but a challenge.  I will burn brighter than you’ve ever seen me and one day you will have no doubt that I am who and what I believe myself to be.  I am not only words, but deeds, feelings and a bright, red, pounding heart filled with more good intention than you have ever imagined.  I am exactly who I say I am.  Nothing more and certainly nothing less.  I do not expect to be given what I have not earned, but I do intend to accept what I deserve and leave behind that which I do not.  This is a promise I have made to myself.

I’ve spent a lot of time looking to other people for what it means to be me.  I’ve relied on others to reflect who they see and I’ve run with it and, in an unfair turn, I’ve made it their responsibility to project for me the person I am or should be.  The problem is that it becomes impossible to know who I am without other people to show me, and in the inevitable disappointment when I fall short of those expectations.  I’ve given too much responsibility to people who don’t deserve it – not because they’re irresponsible with it, but  because it’s not their job to reflect who I am, it’s mine to know wholeheartedly. No one else can know and when I give that responsibility away it not only makes it far too easy to blame others when things go wrong, it makes it impossible to be anything other than a caricature of myself.  It’s like a distorted view of me that is part real and part delusion.  I am not what other people believe me to be and I certainly can’t always be what other people want me to be.  In that is also a recognition that people will not always love me and will not even always be able to like me, but if I can feel secure in knowing I am doing the right thing, that I am acting out of compassion and the goodness I know I have within me, I can only feel proud of the person I’ve become.  This is where my new journey begins.

Many relationships in my life have suffered greatly for my insecurity, need for control and constant desire for this feeling of safety – all of which are nothing more than an inability to deal with the fact that life is groundless.  Change is inevitable and not only will it happen, it is a constant.  I am not the same person I was when I started this post, not even the same as when I started this thought.  Change is happening in and all around and to accept the impermanence of life and self is to accept all as it is in the moment.  This groundlessness, though difficult at times when all I want is a solid foundation to rest my weary heart and soul, also offers the freedom and knowledge that I can change my situation any time I wish.  I have the power to change direction and walk away or towards anyone or anything.  That power is in me, and it is exactly what I need to remember as I navigate this new life ahead of me.  How will I manage my relationships – do I even need to manage them?  How can I participate fully and in a way that allows them to grow.  It’s exactly like that quote at the top says – understanding.  Nothing more and nothing less.  I understand I’ve hurt you, I understand how you feel, I understand your disappointment and I understand that I have not learned my lesson and have continued to do things that are counterproductive.  I will not attempt to persuade or argue with you.  I will be the person I am meant to be, I will continue to attempt understanding, I will have compassion and act only out of kindness, and in the end relationships will grow or fail and I can be content to know I acted in the very best way I know how, with the best intentions and an open heart.

I can’t really say how I happened upon her book Finding the Places That Scare You, but I remember checking it out from the library and studying it intently at a time when I was feeling particularly lost. I fell so in love with the words, ideals and philosophies that I couldn’t bring myself to return it, instead renewing it as often as possible before having to take it back and then check it out again. I finally wised up and bought a copy of my own to highlight and mark and scribble and carry around for those moments I needed a voice of clarity. After that first book, I started in on When Things Fall Apart. I began learning what it meant to be present in a moment of a particular feeling, in those times of discomfort when we so eagerly scramble to be anywhere but in the presence of emotional pain. I began to live closer to the idea that when a painful moment touches me, I need to sit with it, to recognize it, touch it, feel it completely before it will dissolve and I am able to move on. This one simple principle has helped me through some of the most challenging moments of my life, like when Janie won’t get off me. It’s a central tenet in the practice of lojong – using suffering to build up compassion and connect with humanity.

Janie finally read Chödrön’s book Start Where You Are last year and something clicked for her. She’s long been a student of Taoism, but she managed to connect with Buddhism. Her interest renewed mine at a time where I was starting to feel the pull of spirituality that I’d sort of pushed to the side. I feel as if I’ve now reached a point where I can use some clarity, where I need to regain my focus and renew my sense of compassion.

In the spring of 2008, I took a five week Introduction to Buddhist Meditation class. I’ve never had a meditation teacher and, honestly, have never seriously meditated other than some half-hearted attempts to calm myself that resulted in taking a short nap on the couch. Our first class was on some basic tenets of Buddhist meditation along with some demonstration of different sitting positions. We each struggled to find the best, most comfortable position we could before practicing in a few guided sessions. After the class ended, it was easy to fall back into my old rhythm which was not inclusive of taking time and space for myself, to reconnect with my mind, spirit and the world.

What is interesting about starting National Blog Posting Month is that it has given me some free time that I hadn’t necessarily allowed myself before; that I was convinced I didn’t have to spend. It’s funny what’s there when you look for it, rather than brush off the idea without a second thought. It is so easy to say we’re too busy, we have too many obligations or the dog is running down the hall with cat shit in his mouth and that’s all I have the time for now, for dry-heaving while trying to extract it from his clenched jaws. Janie is taking part in National Novel Writing Month which has given her the same quiet time to reconnect with something she loves, with something she had not allowed herself the time to do because things are always “too busy.” Janie has been especially busy trying to ply Carson with peanut butter flavored liquid Prozac that she can smell coming from two rooms away. It is not easy to extract a 17 pound cat from inside a pull-out couch.

I’m going to spend the next several months working hard on allowing myself time to do things I love, like writing, reading, photographing things and taking off Janie’s top. You may notice that I write more about my feelings, but let’s hope not because seriously, what a downer. What I most hope for, however, is that I give myself the time and space to consider my place here and how to be a better person, the kind of person who doesn’t spend the drive home from work screaming “cocksucker!” at every person who holds me up at an intersection to make a left-hand turn when there is an abundance of oncoming traffic. It just makes me so mad even to think about it!

Spirituality has always been a big idea for me, something I’ve been hugely interested in. Partially because I can’t seem to shake the guilt and horror of a Catholic upbringing and also because I want to understand humanity and the universe and our collective purpose. I joke a lot about religion and God and that there Bible, and sometimes I write vicious screeds about Armageddon, but beneath all the sarcasm and vitriol and sass is a lonely little girl trying to understand; trying to find someone who will tell her that it’s not as pointless as it seems. I have found myself really upset with evangelicals and fundamentalists who take religion, specifically Christianity, and turn it into something so hateful and ugly that it becomes, to me and so many others, what organized religion is all about and it is so off-putting. I want to spend more of my time looking past those few people, pushing my way through a small crowd of haters to get to the central ideas of Christianity and other world religions. I want to explore the idea that at the core of all religions and philosophies lie the same basic beliefs and ideals that are good and healthy and accessible to everyone. I want to unravel the mystery and explore the idea of faith and spirituality. My basic question is whether we can learn that, when all is said and done, we are the same people reaching for the same things: for compassion, understanding and love.

In Bill Moyers’ Interview with Pema Chödrön, when asked about the idea of God, she answered:

How do I experience God? You know, that in Buddhism we do not believe in God or disbelieve in God. We keep it as an open question. So I don’t use the word god much. I’m not at all even slightly offended by the word god. And I know it means a lot of different things to different people. So if I had to have a definition it would be that open space of mind that allows for ultimate possibilities. And doesn’t narrow down into a security based or fear based view where my way has to have precedence.

I love this idea, the thought that there is no belief of disbelief. I spend many moments wondering “is there or isn’t there?” without ever really knowing one way or the other. The thought that I can neither believe or disbelieve is a comfortable place for me to settle my mind. It’s hard when society often times is so black and white in its beliefs – that there is or isn’t, it’s either mine or yours, male or female. There is never room for the gray areas when, in reality, it is all gray. This is what I love about Buddhism and why I keep coming back to it time and time again – that it allows for the possibility of other things. There are never any real absolutes and we can let our hearts lead us. That’s what I intend to start doing – exploring my heart and letting it lead me. At the very least, it should allow for less moments of uncontrollable rage when another asshole motherfucker “accidentally” kicks my dog at Petco.

In April I posted Part I of Armageddon, a Tutorial.  Well, here we are in September October and I guess it’s time for Part II. We left off just before *TOOT! TOOT! TOOT!* The Trumpet Judgments:

You might think that someone like me, a heathen, wouldn’t know much about this subject, but surprise!   I played the trumpet for three years back in grade school – a CATHOLIC GRADE SCHOOL -  so I know a thing or two about trumpets and judgment.

Chapter 8 of our good friend Revelation tells of the trumpet judgments.  Every toot of the horn brings about a horrendous plague, each more awful than the one prior, except for the first one because there was no plague before it, only that angels hurling fire at the earth thing as discussed during Part I.  The trumpet serves as a warning, to build anticipation for what is to come, only really, if you’re reading this you won’t be surprised.  Maybe I’ll print out some pocket Armageddon guides so you’ll have it with you and you’ll know what’s next in the playbook.  God didn’t see that coming. Maybe I should have tooted my horn to build the anticipation.  Oooh, Lord!  Ya burnt!

After the first trumpet, we’re gonna get hail, fire and blood pounding down on the earth.  We’ll be used to the fire because the angels have already been hurling it at us and if you live in Seattle, like I do, you’re no stranger to hail.  Blood, on the other hand, is more serious and it really screams of biohazard, to me.  Whose blood is it, anyway?  If we test the DNA, what will we find?  That’s really what I want to know.  In my wild imagination, I picture everyone looking like Stephen King’s Carrie after those stupid jerks dumped that bucked of blood all over her.   Wasn’t that a horrifying movie that I should never have been allowed to watch at the tender age of 12?  Yeah, I know, right?   So the fire will burn up a third of the grass and trees which really seems like more of a punishment for sweet mother Gaia than for any of us, but whatever.

Toot number two brings us something that I imagine will be fun to watch.  I hope they have a news helicopter in place to see that giant burning mountain plummet into the sea that is supposedly coming to an Armageddon near you.  Then the sea will turn into blood (it’s going to take weeks for them to analyze all that blood in a  lab, if TV accurately portrays how long all those DNA tests take.  They might want to consider borrowing one of those offshore oil rigs.)  A third of all the ships will sink.  No word on the smaller sea vessels, but if I were you I’d give the dinghy a rest that day.  Also, a third of all the fish will die, which is a shame because I love fish, especially tuna and salmon.  I cant imagine I’m going to be all that interested in eating any of the 2/3 of fish left if they’re spending their days immersed in seas of blood.  Also, what did they do to deserve this?  Further proof that God can be such an a-hole when he’s drunk.

Oh, I’m sorry, it looks like I neglected to consider the freshwater fish, which will be spared until the third trumpet.  A star called Wormwood (translated from the Hebrew term “looks like an ‘n’, squiggly line, sort of resembles a ‘y’, squiggle”) will fall onto the earth and poison streams and rivers and that pond in the back of the house where my grandparents used to live.  Did you know that when the pond freezes over the fish are still alive?  And if you crack the ice, they die?  (That’s what my dad told me and if you say he’s wrong you’re a liar and a jerkface.)  Yeah, that’s because God was high on cocaine when he made biology.  How else can we explain things like sperm, the platypus and Rush Limbaugh?   Also, this star?  This Wormwood star?  It will make the waters bitter and it will kill many men.  Many people will die of bitterness and I know at least 2-1/2 of them.   Now, there are people who are trying to mess with the Bible and make it more “believable” (they’ll call it interpretation, I’ll all it fakery).  These are people who think they’re some hot shit who can take this sacred text of totally made up historical fiction and turn it into something real with their magical back in time ability to cause something to be that never was or could be.  They want us to believe them when they explain that oh, no, Wormwood isn’t a STAR, it’s  METEOR.  Because now we have science and telescopes and shit and don’t be retarded ancient world, a star isn’t going to fall on earth and if it did we’d all be dead right then, not from bitterness, but from HOLY SHIT WE ARE OBLITERATED BY THE HEAT OF A FUCKING STAR.

God sure does enjoy his fractions, because the fourth trumpet signals a dimming by 1/3 of the sun, stars and moon.  And you know what, suckers?  The sun is a star and the moon only reflects the sun’s light SO I GOT YOU THERE!  I only paid attention in science class until the 4th grade and I know more than you do.  You just got OWNED by a 4th grade science education.  HAHAHA.

Trumpet number five would make for a wicked-cool horror movie starring Jon and Kate Gosselin because there isn’t anyone I can think of who I’d rather see get ravaged by indestructible locusts that “resemble war horses with crowned human faces and having women’s hair, lions’ teeth, locusts’ wings, and the tail of a scorpion.” (this is not a locust it’s a frankenlocust.  Also, what exactly is “women’s hair” when it is not on a woman, but on a frankenlocust?)  Apparently people are going to try to commit suicide because the pain of the frankenlocust attack is so bad and the joke’s on us because death will not come.  Some think that believers will be sealed by God and therefor the locusts will not attack them and all this means is that Janie still has a chance.  These awful locusts will be led by Apollyon, which at first I thought was Apollo Ono and I thought it was kind of weird that an ice skater would be a demon from Hell, but then I thought that maybe he just likes it so who am I to judge?  But them I saw that Apollyon is someone else entirely and while I can’t say he does or doesn’t like ice skating, I can say that he is a real asshole regardless.  So Apollyon, also known as Abbadon because he’s taking a cue from P. Diddy and changing it up whenever he feels like he’s not getting enough attention, and his locust army will plague us and cause such terrible awfulness that we’re gonna want to drown ourselves in the bitter waters of Trumpet 4, but what they don’t know is that I am married to a woman who holds a knife in the most unnatural ways when she is chopping vegetables and very little makes me want to kill myself more than that.  Sorry, Apollyon, try again.

The sixth trumpet blast is where things really start to heat up.  Over 200 million horsemen kill 1/3 of the wicked left on the earth.  That’s right, Janie, you’re now being called wicked.  WICKED-COOL.  They will kill this fraction of people using massive strikes, fire and smoke.  Mostly I imagine it like this time the kids from the sandwich shop down the street were on strike because some guy got fired for smelling like he was drunk, but he wasn’t drunk, he just had been drunk the night before and the stench of booze was just because he used to be drunk but really, swear to God, wasn’t drunk anymore.  Anyhow, they had a strike, no one was making sandwiches and hungry business people in Seattle were dying on the sidewalk because they needed their foot-long.  Imagine this on a massive, large-scale view – worldwide striking at sandwich shops, steak houses, fast food chains, school cafeterias, grocery stores, high school gym concession stands and that one guy selling edamame at the train station in Tokyo.  MASSIVE STRIKES because the horsemen said so and then they build a fire and they smoke.  And somehow, 1/3 of us all die, die, die.

The seventh and final trumpet involves zombies.  This is all the rage now, I realize.  Vampires and zombies.  So we get a blow from the horn and the dead are raised.  There is no plague.  There is only the sound of the trumpet giving glory to God.  And then zombies eat our brains and use the hollowed out skulls as bowls and they have an ice cream party.  I added that last part myself because otherwise this is all very anticlimactic.

Thus ends the first 3-1/2 years of the Tribulation and brings us to the midpoint where some important things happen in quick succession:  Those two witnesses I talked about in part I, the ones who are awesome with their ability to breathe fire upon people who attempt to harm them? Yeah, well, this is when they die at the hands of the Beast!  The Beast of Beasts “ will make war against them, overcome them, and kill them” (Rev. 11:7).  This war isn’t like a regular kind of war with guns and knives and pull out couches and it isn’t like that movie War of the Roses where they toss plates at one another, this shit is serious.  It’s a fiery fiery killy show and these two badasses who I have named Xena and Gabrielle, die.  Then they are resurrected, but not in secret like Jesus.  No, they’re in this for the show, they want people to see the error of their ways, Janie.  They want you to know that this is the real deal.  So they are resurrected in front of everyone the world over and they fall in love and make out.  I don’t know how…it’s a mystery.  God is a mystery.  Ye shall not doubt him. It says so in that Bible.

You’re going to think I’m making this next part up, but this is serious.  A whore walks into the apocalypse.  Serious.  A WHORE.  Not just a whore, actually.  THE WHORE.  The Whore of  Babylon.  And I’m not talking about that woman starring opposite Bruce Boxleitner on the science fiction show Babylon 5 (though I’ve heard rumors…), I’m talking about the great whore of Revelation, Chapters 17 and 18:

And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand full of abominations and filthiness of her fornication.

And I’m just gonna let you sit and think on that for a while.  Hopefully not for another six months, but for a short time.  Conjure in your minds eye what this woman looks like.  I’m thinking Elizabeth Taylor’s Cleopatra as my personal visual, but you have to get your own.  So stir that around in your pot for a while; massage those mind grapes and see what you come up with.  We’ll come back together in a few weeks and explore our thoughts and feelings about who this whore really is and why she’s holding that filthy, dirty, naughty little cup.  I bet you didn’t know this Bible was so fucking fantastic, did you?

Watch the trailer for 2012 starring John Cusack

¹Quoted from Scary Movie

“I will participate in the demonstrations tomorrow. Maybe they will turn violent. Maybe I will be one of the people who is going to get killed. I’m listening to all my favorite music. I even want to dance to a few songs. I always wanted to have very narrow eyebrows. Yes, maybe I will go to the salon before I go tomorrow! There are a few great movie scenes that I also have to see. I should drop by the library, too. It’s worth to read the poems of Forough and Shamloo again. All family pictures have to be reviewed, too. I have to call my friends as well to say goodbye. All I have are two bookshelves which I told my family who should receive them. I’m two units away from getting my bachelors degree but who cares about that. My mind is very chaotic. I wrote these random sentences for the next generation so they know we were not just emotional and under peer pressure. So they know that we did everything we could to create a better future for them. So they know that our ancestors surrendered to Arabs and Mongols but did not surrender to despotism. This note is dedicated to tomorrow’s children…” – an Iranian blogger

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See also, Why Jesus is the best friend you’ll ever have and has nothing to do with sex