A Treasure Found at Home

i’ve done a lot of crying today. not all of it’s been bad. most of it, in fact hasn’t been bad. i’m just letting go of some things i’ve been holding on to for no really good reason except habit. they are, in fact, habits i’m sure i’ll have to let go of again and again, as is the wont with habits.

i started the day reading some of point three (of mind training) and the paramita of patience. the 47 slogans of mind training are organized into seven points. slogan 13 is my favourite so far, and the one i’m currently most intimidated by.

“be grateful to everyone”

this should be of no surprise since my favourite number is 13, and the title of my blog is an allusion to shantideva’s remarks on the subject:

So like a treasure found at home,
Enriching me without fatigue,
All enemies are helpers in my bodhisattva work
And therefore they should be a joy to me.

except in my title i’m the treasure, the one to be grateful to. see, we’re like little rubies found under the couch cushion because we point out your path to enlightenment. “here,” we say as we piss you off, “here is where you could use a little improvement on that path.” it’s much easier to be on that end than to be on the end where you’re giving the gratitude.

in the early afternoon i talked to my meditation instructor. he told me things i knew but needed reminding of, which is what all of this study really feels like to me, so he must be right on target. i cried.

next went to a book club meeting where we had a difficult discussion. i didn’t cry, but my heart was pretty tender when i left. so i came home and looked for a movie to watch. usually, i do this and decide i’m not really in the mood for whatever is on. i thought i would end up reading or folding laundry.

instead, i watched ‘becoming jane’. holy cow. maybe because i’m a hopeless romantic deep under this cynical exterior, but i caught my breath when she turned around and was suddenly dancing with him. of course, i knew the end end. i just wasn’t sure how they would get there, and as with certain other stories i know very well, i hoped for a miracle. i suppose in a way i got one, jane austin wrote some amazing literature and certainly helped pave the way for women writers in this western world.  and… i cried.

i cried for jane and for me and for letting go and for doing the right thing… the really right thing for what i want and what i’m afraid i can’t live up to and i sat for 15 min and cried for at least half of it. and i felt like a fool and was glad i was sitting alone in the dark with only my cat to witness (and now, of course, i’ve written all down for you to read). i use a 15 min mp3 meditation timer which features a few seconds of silence, a gong, 15 min of silence, then three gongs and a few more seconds of silence which i use to dedicate the merit.

the next song in itunes just happens to be a well know everly brothers tune. can you guess? it’s ‘crying in the rain’.

last saturday my across the street neighbour had a get together at his place. i’ve been experiencing continued disillusionment and uncomfortableness in terms of where i fit into my community and if it’s really the right one for me, blah blah blah. i found out about the party last minute so my unpreparedness and my lack of confidence were working together to keep me from going.

however, i hadn’t seen flo in weeks (she was in ireland) and i really like my neighbour, so i figured i’d go for a little while. it’s not a huge commitment when i can retreat back across the street if i get too uncomfortable, right?

i was greeted at the door by someone thanking me for something i’d done. big happy hug, and a genuine thank you. i stumbled up the stairs in a daze of happiness. later i was dancy dancing about and another friend saw me from across the floor. she smiled brightly and pointed at me; i hadn’t seen her in a while so i thought she was just giving me a happy greeting. when she got to me, she also gave me a huge thank you for something i’d helped set in motion for her… i gave her someone’s name who i thought could help with something she’d asked about.

what a great night. on top of the wonderful music and usual catching up with people, it felt great to have people spontaneously express their gratitude to/for me.

today i’m still tired, but it was well worth it.

• acupuncture!
• bakeries
• “a room of one’s own”
• the beach boys
• paycheck
• dvr
• shuttle to work
• anti-motion sickness bands
• car songs
• amazon mp3s

my goodness, it’s just like 6th grade here in my headphones today. if only trent turner were here to dance with to “in my room”. *sigh* i’ve stepped out of the way-back machine onto jenny lipman’s back deck in boca. man, sometimes i miss that.

i subscribe to a story of the day from storypeople.com. usually the stories are just a sentence or two long. i’m in love with today’s story.

Here’s the Story of the Day:

Connection (feminine)

there came a moment in the middle of the song when she suddenly felt every heartbeat in the room & after that she never forgot she was part of something much bigger

i swear the woman on kqed just sang, “lost a friend that needed losing”. she’s not repeating the line, so i won’t be able to get a translation; i’m not sure i want one, honestly.

i was watching this same performance of somewhat over dramatically staged irish music at some castle somewhere in ireland when ctg’s friend called and asked if i’d be interested in going to see an irish band at an irish bar. well, i had just been thinking how LONG it had been since i’d been in that crowd (hellos, over seven years).

the one very drunk and unbalanced girl didn’t even mar the evening - she managed to miss our coats every time she spilled her drink. i didn’t talk to her although her also very drunk boyfriend did try to pass the job of holding her up, er, dancing with her to me at one point. i declined.

the band, Culann’s Hounds, played a version of a song that i used to love in high school and college.  it got me to thinking and to the web. unfortunately the only page i could find for ceili’s muse seems to be no more recent than 1997! oops. i wonder if i could still write to them and get a copy of one voice on something other than audio tape. i hope to ceili they burned a cd.

i’m still singing to myself: I’ll tell me ma, when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone.
pulled my hair, stole my comb,
but that’s alright till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty,
She’s the belle of Belfast city,
She is courtin’, one, two, three,
Please won’t you tell me who is she?

searching for the lyrics brings up a site that lists a number of artists who recorded this song. one of the albums looked especially promising as it’s called ‘fibb’nacci sequence’. i clicked on the purchasing info and found this:

• List price: $14.99
• Used price: $57.45

maybe it will be a good investment?

but, it’s not the same. that cd won’t have the beautiful, heart wrenching, a capella recording of the tinkerman’s daughter.