*
A good weekend was had. That new grandbaby woke up for a few minutes and I got to see his eyes looking all around, trying to take in the world in all its glory. I got to go for a walk with the Number One grandchild on Sunday and we managed to go on a pony ride and then eat a big scoop of dark chocolate ice cream called “motor oil” and the whole time that boy carried his big book of Dinosaurs tucked under his arm.
I got the roof on the bathhouse without killing myself, much to the Woman’s surprise. And relief, I venture to say.
I got to eat a bowlful of her roasted veggies, kale, tempeh, and pickled onions for lunch.
We watched us some Deadwood. Goin’ through it a second time.
*
It is my great good fortune that she tolerates me as much as she does.
*
I have yet a great zeal for practice and so much gratitude that I’m able to give myself to it as much as I am doing. Always there is the urge for more, but I am fine with that. I think that’s nice, actually. I wouldn’t want to be sated in it. This morning I got to listen as the birds woke up, the ring-necked doves first, then the wild turkeys somewhere up the hill behind my neighbor’s place, then the sparrows and the jays. A handful of others I couldn’t tell by their calls. And imperceptibly, or nearly so, the darkness gave way to daybreak. A shivery breeze animated the branches of the bushes that arc over the stone Buddha and set loose a shower of tiny white blossoms, like snowfall. The smoke from the incense drifted up in loose, playful loops before dissipating into the silvery air. And I began my day with prayers and meditation. Devotion, gratitude, and longing. A love for this world announced and dedicated, a pledge to give myself, body, speech, and mind, to the benefit of all sentient beings.
A wish for happiness and an end to suffering for all.
*
It seems a nice way to begin things.
*
Namaste.
***
The Dishwasher's Tears 
It’s such a peaceful image you give us. Except for the Deadwood which Mr. Moon and I have watched all the way through at least twice. Those characters are real as real and I love them.
Give them babies a little sugar from a far-away Aunt Grandma.
Keep sitting. It’s working.
Mary Moon-
I think so, too. I think it is working.
thank you, thank you for being one of the many, many good ones. I used to think they were less numerous, but I never knew how to see them before. You had to really hit me over the head pretty hard for me to see it.
Now they’re everywhere.
love-
Scott
Pingback: Wordpress Blogs - Wordpress Blogs .NET
I’m not one for Deadwood, but I love the fact of you, the great meditator, getting joy in it. I’m reading Pema Chodron’s new book — sometimes what you say reminds me of her.
I think Pema is a wonderful teacher, especially for dealing with the kinds of stress and difficulties and suffering that you face on a daily basis- I’m glad you are reading her.
And, yeah, you know me, I relish the human condition, and there’s something about those folks in Deadwood- say what you want about them, they are fully engaged and alive. It’s funny, this second time through I’m astounded by the compassion and love in the show that I was not aware of initially. That Milch is a hell of a writer.
Anyway, thank you, as always, for sharing your thoughts.
Namaste.