Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible Rage, rage against the dying of the evil? Wait. What? No. Tenderness. Nonduality. Oneness. Wholeness. Acceptance of all as human. Integration. Transcendence. Proceed.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible Our chief weapon is recognition . . . recognition and acceptance . . . acceptance and recognition . . . . Our two weapons are acceptance and recognition . . . and ruthless wisdom . . . . Our *three* weapons are acceptance, recognition, and ruthless wisdom...and an almost fanatical devotion to virtue . . . . Our *four* . . . no . . . *Amongst* our weapons . . . . Amongst our weaponry . . . are such elements as acceptance, recognition . . . . I'll come in again. Recognition, naming, robs a thing of power. Not all, but much. It removes mystery, uncertainty, doubt, and confusion. Aha! Now I know what I am facing. Now I see the outline of the issue. Acceptance, doesn't rob: it co-opts; it merges; it joins and assimilates. Together, they can allow us peace. They can offer tranquility.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Healing Our Wounds and Pain Emotions come and go, though in the moment it may seem they'll last forever. Buddhism teaches me to accept emotions, unfurl them to see their dimensions and textures, hold them to become familiar and by that, understand.  Today, we buried my mom's urn. The service was very nice. The eulogies, poignant, touching, and heartfelt. We shared our memories and emotions. Stories I'd never heard and aspects of my mom shown to friends and peers but not children. I loved it.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible This sadness will pass — pass through and into and intermixed and whole — as I integrate it into my self. This pain will pass. Or, rather this pain will integrate, become a piece of me, indelible, ineluctable, included. Part and parcel and peace of me.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible It's not a battle. It's not opposition or fixing. It's acceptance and adaptation. It's going with instead of going through. I have sometimes felt mediation difficult for just such errors: tusseling against wayward thoughts; straining versus emotions and impulses. Now that I've read this need not be true from someone who is supposed to know, I have permission to relax and find more success which will surely come because I've grasped this vital insight, this epiphany. Damnit 

Today's Mediation: Meditations , 6.53 (Hicks and Hicks) Pay attention. Pay attention to the person. The meaning comes with. Perhaps understanding after that. At least, understanding is more likely or, if not exactly understanding, then empathy and connection.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here  by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible Let it be. How hard is that? No, really how hard is that? Oh! The urge to meddle. To fix. To fixate. Insidious. Sly. Crafty. I don't even see it coming until I've already stuck my nose in. Every once in a while I notice and try to stop it —  IF I notice, I usually can; awareness is the key —but too often I only recognize what's happened after I've interfered. You always own the option of having no opinion. There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can’t control. These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone. Meditations 6.52 (Hicks and Hicks) How wonderful it is to be able to have no opinion. If I've no opinion, I've no reason to butt in. Saving me trouble and unwanted emotions such as frustration, anger, envy. Learn to not fight. To let be. To accept as is. To lose preconception.

Today's Mediation: You Are Here by Thich Nhat Hanh, Happiness and Peace are Possible My pain is me. My uncertainty is me. My embarrassment, my fear, my denial  All me. I'm better at managing my emotions than I was. Doesn't mean I don't have to try so hard. And even when I know the right thing and do the right thing, it still too often hurts. Or is right, but unsatisfying in others ways. I can't help but feel that dissatisfaction and wish that, beyond virtue the money would have worked, or I'd not have been shamed, or that I would, in general, have 'come out better.'

Today's Mediation: You’re not going to look back and regret that you drove a more convenient car for your family. You’re not going to look back and think, “I was such a loser” because you went along with something they were all excited about. On the contrary, you’re going to regret that you were stubborn. You’re going to regret that you insisted on things being harder than they needed to be. You’re going to wonder why you cared so much about what other people think . ~ The Daily Stoic 260205 Deciding to be a dad is one of the best things I've ever done.

Today's Mediation: This thing that you signed up for—being a person of virtue—was never promised to you as a path to success. No one ever said it was the ideal strategy for politics or business. No one said it was the better end of the bargain. But you know what it is? It’s a way to live with yourself. It’s a way to keep yourself from being sucked in and degraded. It’s a way to be good even in bad times.  ~ The Daily Stoic 260204 It's not a secret formula for success. It's a secret formula for being able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning. I'm not there yet, either.

Today's Meditation: Still planning the funeral.  Reading some Cicero On Grief . I'm not sure if it's the translation (I only have the one at the moment) but I really dislike the parts I read today. I'll add more info tomorrow. Toniggt, to sleep. Perchance to dream.

Today's Meditation: "I'm not going to die." I don't know if she believed it, if she said it to comfort us as we stood beside her hospital bed, or if she was trying to convince herself it was true. I knew she was wrong. I knew it was a matter of time, a desperately short time, before her lungs gave out and she would pass. I knew there was no hope. And I hear her say that everyday. Any time I'm not actively doing something . . . "I'm not going to die" erupts again in my mind. Did she realize that we believed she was going to die? Did that fill her with fear? Despair? Was she hurt by our inability to believe her? We said we did. We said it was a matter of getting better. We knew we were lying. I fear she did, too, and that she felt abandoned by the people she loved, who loved her, who were there to spend her last moments with her. I am terrified that she felt betrayed. I am petrified that she felt I gave up on her. And that kills me.

Today's Meditation: I can snivel and whine. Or I can get busy in my own salvation. I can sleep. Or I can get up and do the things a himan should do. I can withdraw. Or I can lean on my support when I am overburdened. I can avoid and pretend. Or I can face reality. I can be kind. I can focus on others. I can use my reason and follow Nature. I can work with what I have. I can be here now. I can get through. I can survive. I can do be live strive attempt. I can be kind.

Today's Meditation: I can't control my thoughts. I can't control my impulses. I can't control my environment. I can influence my thoughts. Use pattern interruption to short-circuit loops. Use perspective to put things in their proper place. I can wait. I can delay. I can refuse to re act and act instead. I can block. I can move. I can avoid those who would drag me down or tempt me. I can adjust my attitude and accept what is while working to change it.

Today's Meditation(s): The locusts got Christmas today as my family descended upon my parents' house to begin putting it in order. Tge house went from festive wonderland to pedestrian container in a couple of hours. My mom would have told us stories about every ornament, every nativity, every nutcracker, every angel, every stocking, every Santa. She knew everything.

Today's Meditation(s): The Pocket Thich Nhat Hanh (ed. By Melvin McLeod), Walking with Your Parents I walk with my mother all the time. In my attitudes. In my thoughts. In my relationships. In my talents. In my interests. In my habits. In my life. In all that I am.

Today's Meditation(s): It's the loss that bothers. The loss of stories. The loss of history. The loss of memories and traditions. The loss of ever getting more. The loss of a light in this wilderness.

Today's Meditation(s): Meditations, 4.49 (Long) We can train. We can prepare. We can stock up. We can rehearse in our minds what we need to do. This will not be enough.  ~ Daily Stoic 260120

Today's Meditation(s): Mom died today. Like a party guest not wanting to overstay her welcome, she has moved on to the next adventure. With dad and J. I don't know what to do. Any time I needed to know how a person should act, if I wanted to know how to be human and to care for someone, I thought of her. When I think about her, and what she was to me, she gave me the best example of how to love others and how genuinely care, to put them first and give of myself. She taught me this. I wish I'd learned the lesson better. She was even mom to my friends. Friends without moms of their own to count on or to love them, she was there. Took them in. Gave them a place in her heart. At least her pain is over. She's at peace. It's all I've got.

Today's Meditation(s): Meditations, 4.48 (Hicks and Hicks) As my mother lay dying. I sit here, wondering why I'm looking up game time (7 PM) instead of holding her hand, as I have been before. Wondering if we try to convince her to allow a procedure she (wrongly) fears and which could save her life. And if we do try, how do I convince her? She's strong-willed. And I'll never have a more important persuasion job. Know your audience. Get feelings leaning our way and rationale will follow. Make her, and her input, feel heard and valued. Fuck me. My mom is dying. Damnit.