365 Lessons

Hello fellow Writers Risers and Writers Rising Readers! I'm so happy to be back. While I was gone you all wrote such amazing things...I read most of them, but haven't had a chance to comment on all of them. I feel this blog has a force of it's own and I'm so happy to share that with you all here. Writers Rising is so appropriate for 2010, The Year of the Tiger! I am going out on a limb on my blog Lessons from the Monk I Married. I've decided to write a lesson I have learned for every day of the year. I wanted to share my resolutions, which I normally never make or keep, with you all here so that you can hold me to it. Do you keep resolutions or have any plans for 2010? I'd love to hear about them. I am grateful to share this space with all of you. If you are visiting this blog and would like to be a contributor, please leave your contact info in a comment and I will add you here. Writers Risers, if you know anyone who would be a great addition to our fabulous list of authors, let me know. Here's what I posted on my blog. My first lesson for January 1st 2010 is "Be Disciplined" and I'll share that with you here:

O.K. I might be biting off more than I can chew, but I am ready to try. I'm ready to be disciplined. My meditation teacher, SN Goenka, always says, "Continuity of practice is the secret of success." If it works for meditation, it will certainly work for other areas of my life. My husband also tells me that success comes when you continually work on whatever you want to succeed in. When times get rough, you keep going. You have to just keep at it.

January 2010 marks my first year anniversary writing my blog, Lessons from the Monk I Married. That's a big success for me. When I started out, no one knew this blog existed. Over the course of a year, I've gotten to know so many people in the blogosphere. Though we've never met, I feel some of the people I've met here I know personally, like family. Writing for one whole year on this blog was a course in discipline for me. Near the end of this year, I felt I didn't have any more to say, but I do.

I don't like to make New Year's Resolutions because I don't always stick to them. Lesson One for this new year is about discipline, so I intend to try and stick to my resolutions this year (emphasis on the word "try").

As many of you know, I've been writing a book entitled "Lessons from the Monk I Married". This has proved to be no easy feat, but I continue. My first resolution is to have it completed and published this year. My second resolution is to write on my blog 365 lessons I've learned. These lessons I've learned will be written on a daily basis and I will finish this project on January 1, 2011. Many of these have come from walking on this path of life with my husband, a former Korean Buddhist monk. He is not a writer, but he has inspired so many with his words. Some of these words even come from Facebook status updates. I'd love to write a book just of those, but I will stay on my task here. Don't be surprised if some of those updates show up in my lessons here. It's good to point out that these are lessons I have learned, everyone has their own set. I have been sharing some of these over the past year with a positive response from so many people. If what I write benefits people in a positive way, why wouldn't I want to continue. What benefits you benefits me. We are sharing the love. If what I write doesn't resonate with you, you don't have to read it. It's your choice, just as this is my choice.

My other resolutions include sticking to my daily meditation practice and keeping up a regular yoga practice. My husband is a yoga teacher and currently teaches in my house, so that's been easy so far. This year he hopes to open a yoga studio with his friend near our house in Seattle. I'm very excited about that.

It's a little scary putting all this out there into the world, but it's about time. Hope you all will follow me on another year journey. I look forward to your comments and sharing this journey with you.

So this is the project I will be working on this year, as well as completing my book manuscript. What are you working on? I'd love to hear about it. Much peace and happiness to you all in the new year!!

2010: May your New Year be creative and bright.

When One Is More Than Three

The pure energy of choice, the exercise

Of wisdom and will between the extreme

Of hatred and love, apathy or action, war

Or art, the painful year, a joyful moment,

Only mind dreaming our future into being:

All that is made by man, woman or child

Every toy, house, bridge, bullet or bomb

Was once an idea given birth in the mind.

It may look like we take one step forward

Three back, but a forward step is always

The greater distance in dream time, mind is

Forever dreaming forward into the future

from "Of One and Many Worlds" Poetic Matrix Press

A New Year, A New Life.....I'm Back!

I'm back in the saddle again....I'm ready to go! I feel the New Year around the corner and I'm ready to embrace 2010, the Year of the Tiger. For some reason, when I say that, the Rocky theme song, Eye of The Tiger, starts playing in the background of my mind. I think "Tiger" best defines how I feel this year will go. When I think of a Tiger, I think of strength, precision, focus, and beauty.

(Picture courtesy of Wikipedia)

I didn't feel like a tiger two weeks ago. I felt more like a mole or a bear in hibernation. I just wanted to bury myself in a hole in the ground and remain in it. It wasn't that I was depressed or sad or worried, it's just that I felt the need to let go of outside things and go inside. I needed to feel myself again. I needed to retreat.

I'm coming out of my cave now. On Dec. 9th I went to a 10-day silent meditation course in Onalaska, WA.


I had a room with hardly anything in it and I didn't speak for 10-days.





People may ask, "Well what did you do then?" I meditated...and that's it. No other activities except eating, sleeping, and bathing and responding to calls of nature. I do this at least once a year and I have a daily practice. I find it very beneficial. It's easy for me to get lost in the drama of life otherwise...to be tossed and turned by what is going on around me. A 10-day Vipassana course is not easy, it's rigorous. Many people have an idea that going to meditate for 10 days is like going to the spa....ummm...it couldn't be farther from that idea. It's serious work. It's surgery. The benefits I get from practicing meditation outweigh the benefits I've gotten from anything else in life, so I keep practicing. It's been almost 14 years. I feel clarity, peace of mind on a very deep level, balance, and understanding of the impermanent, changing nature of things.

Before I started meditation, I felt a lot of anger, worry, and self doubt. I don't feel these as much anymore and if they come to pay a visit, they don't stay long. The most amazing thing that has happened since I started meditating is that I find myself exactly where I need to be. There's no second guessing. Things fall into place very easily. I get lined up with the right people, places and things. I feel a connection to those I meet and feel the importance of those who come into my life, whether they be a reader of this blog, an author or fellow blogger on another blog, a yoga student, an ESL student, a neighbor, the postman, a stranger, whomever it may be, I feel the importance of why they are in my life. I'm not saying that things don't go wrong anymore, they do, but I don't seem to have a strong reaction like I did before. I'm able to observe the situation a bit more from a distance. I don't feel so attached.

Another thing I've felt like doing since I started meditating is share with others the things that I have learned or the peace and happiness I feel. There's a lot of negativity in the world these days. If I am not aware, I can follow people right into the hornet's nest of negativity. Realizing that I can't please everyone is a big lesson for me. Some people will not be happy with what I say or do, but if I feel o.k. with it, that's all that's important. My purpose in life, I believe, is to share, open up and extend myself to others. Also, there are times when I need to retreat, gain energy and take care of myself.


When I came back from meditation, I wasn't quite ready to come out of my shell, but Christmas was right around the corner and my family had big plans. We had planned to meet at my father's lake house in Washington. I went from the nothingness of total silence right into the craze of Christmas shopping at Northgate Shopping Center near my house in Seattle. Christmas shopping at peak season, if anything, will shake you from your shell. I was still moving slowly through the hordes of people and had to sit down often.

Christmas with my family was nice. It was nice to see everyone and spend time together. I'm not sure I really had time to get into the "Christmas Spirit". I was kind of thrown into it. When I was young, I celebrated Christmas because my family did. I don't think much has changed. The Christmas I see in America seems to be about spending time with family, buying a Christmas tree, buying presents, decorating the tree, making Christmas cookies, watching Christmas specials, listening to Christmas music, etc. Christmas is also about the birth of Christ, but that gets lost sometimes, I feel. I am not a member of any religion and I am member of ALL religions. Maybe it's good to celebrate everything. ..to celebrate life! I was happy to finally be celebrating at this peaceful lake setting with family.

I think I was more excited about the new year.... I already feel things are lining up. While I was meditating, my husband and his friend decided to start a yoga business together and they already found a building in Seattle that they are interested in. I feel that this will happen. The most amazing part of the "possible" yoga school is the atrium.


It has an indoor Eichler-style atrium. I've never seen an older building in Seattle with this feature. It's perfect for a yoga school. I feel like my husband and are I both working towards our goals and dreams simultaneously and they both support the same goal of sharing peace, happiness and joy with others. The creation of his yoga school will be a collaborative effort of friends who are painters, gardeners, designers, construction workers. I think it will be so interesting to see this process of so many people coming together to leave a part of themselves for others to enjoy. It's like one big art project. Stay tuned for more information as this project progresses. Happy New Year everyone!!

Finding our way Home on Christmas Day

My favourite memory of Christmas this year: my grand-mère's ridiculously happy smile when she realized I was there to play and sing for her.

Grand-mère is in a nursing home, this will be her third week. She's a tiny woman, all shriveled up and bent with shaky hands and a lost expression on her face. She wasn't always like this, but I always remember her as being 'old' and difficult. I always defined her as "grandmère" and other as opposed to "woman" and similar to myself.


With a little bit of thought, her history comes alive and allows me to glimpse into her life as woman. Her mother was extremely ill with asthma, forcing Evelyn to quit school before grade 8 to care for her. She also cared for her two cognitively impaired siblings until their deaths. Her mother passed away when Evelyn was 18 years old, and left her to be the matron of the household. 


She always said that she refused to marry Albert (grand-père) until he returned from the war. "What if he came back missing a leg??" He returned physically whole, they married and had four children. She didn't bargain for what being in the front lines in WWII could do to a man psychologically. She now had a family of four children, two cognitively impaired adults and an alcoholic husband who woke screaming at night.


Grand-mère was also bulimic. My mother remembers her throwing up after each meal. I remember grand-mère's snide comments made to my mother about her weight.


Although we all knew that she was absent minded, her world began crumbling apart three years ago when her youngest son died suddenly. The following Christmas grand-père passed away after a long illness in their home.


And now grand-mère is no longer the capable mother, grandmother or woman she was. She has forgotten that my uncle has died... time passes in snippets for her. New memories refuse to stick and pass as quickly as the electrochemical-signals created. She remembers her husband. She remembers that he's no longer with her and talks of the day she'll join him. Her husband whom she spent years fighting, the love long gone. He was her anchor, his mind keeping her grounded while her physical health kept him with us.


Christmas day, only hours after our happy caroling sing-song, we arrived to take her to Tante B.'s for supper. Mom had been preparing her for weeks. We found her in the lobby, sitting forlornly in a huge, overbearing rocking chair. Her hair all askew, her clothing worn and haphazard. Looking like a tiny lost child surrounded by other wrinkly, lost children. All waiting.


Gone was the happy Grand-mère of Christmas day, and here was a confused woman. Where were we going? It's Christmas day? "Qu'est-ce que vous faites icitte??"



She allowed my mom to guide her to her room in search for her Christmas outfit that was opened yesterday. We arrived to find everything in her room packed into plastic bags. As my mother questioned her, grand-mère sat on the bed and shrugged her shoulders. She had no memory of packing her things, of the gift, of our singing. 


With a sigh, my mother asked me to draw the curtain so she could dress her own mother. I couldn't help. I stood behind the curtain, certain that if I saw them I would fall apart.


We left with assurances that we were taking her 'breathing' medication with us (she had a panic attack upon our arrival) and the half hour drive on the highway consisted of a cycle of approximately 6 questions: "aimes-tu ta job? c'est-ty ta car à toi? travailles-tu à Halifax asteur? Sauves-tu des cents? Les enfants aimes-ty leur madame? Quand-ce qu'est les noces?"...



Although she sat amidst the hub bub of her family, her thoughts too slow to follow conversation around her, she announced that she was so very happy to have gone. A few repetitions of how we were missing one this year (Albert) and a few reminders as to where she lived now and my mother and I were on our way back home.


"I hope I'm never that lost"


(post dedicated to grandmère Evelyn, whom I love dearly)

The Art of Creation

I wanted to post something before I left Korea, but instead what I have done is to write this post for the future. I happened to go through an old blog of mine that I still post to on ocassion.

The words are mine, the images are the works of artist, Philip Brooker, who has been an artist who has poured his life into his work. He was born an artist. He will always be one.

At this reading, I will be in Paris, the day after Christmas, the journey will have been long. I will be going through the usual arrival processes and getting myself settled in with moist eyes because it took me so long to come back to a place I love.

I wrote about the valley of darkness we all go through. It was strange reading this post, because it almost seemed prophetic. It has been a very difficult year in the West. There has been much suffering, but do your best to touch as many lives as you can.
(C) Philip Brooker
In a World of Art...

It is out of the forces of great pressure from this earth great jewels are formed. It is through great oppression that heroes have arisen. It is through much struggle that voices have risen to create some of the most incredible views of canvas, of scultpture, of words, and of music.

Through the valleys of want some of the most incredible renderings have been produced to reveal more to humanity. Most aspire to greatness, yet fail to walk along a path, choosing comfort and safety of the commercial.

Is real art, the most private kind of work? Where there is no interpretation...no message, but the state of being? This is a time where through much adversity there will be the most incredible works to come. Remember, Paris had vacated the artists, and because of the war, many came to try to rebuild their success over here. Some succeeded, some starved, and some were forced to try to survive in concentration camps and their voices were never heard from again.

The mediums of light and dark, the sweet and the sour, and our current state of alarm are the seeds that can be turned into the muse we seek. For it is out of conflict we grow and it is revealed what really matters. In our state of humility we begin to see the larger truths...those universal ones that we have ignored...those whispers of our heart.

It is one thing to be paid for doing what you love to do. It is another to sacrifice to do what you love...and another to have the courage to live the life you want to have. The displaced community of creative genius who mime their way through other outposts, playing roles of other vocations who scream inside to fuse their words, images, and displays as long discarded dreams...

Of course, there are still dreamers. Waking up in the world of illusionary security being told what is of value in a society that struggles to find its way. What a time to be alive...for a new awakening is beginning. Where there are worlds of currency but no real wealth, except what we bestow upon each other with random acts of kindness without seeking reward.

Yes, this is the greatest resource available...more than credit lines that people have snorted like lines of economic cocaine. There is us...the creators of our own destinies.
12/17/2008

Happy Holidays

Christmas Morning


There was a sidewalk troubadour, twelve-string in hand, he said
"Come hear me warm up my guitar..."

A vagabond in tattered old rainbow poncho
Was pushing a shopping cart, a cart decorated with snowman
Reindeer, garland and a sign that read

"Happy Xmas, I'm homeless, please help."
A red, white and blue striped wolf, visible only to me
Moved him down the sidewalk nipping at his heels.

A group movin' to a jazz trumpet and drum said
"He's a taco short of a combination plate!"
Their laughter rose into the sky...

The full moon floated in the sky like a white plate.
I wanted to walk into the mountains
find the place heaven split apart and fell to earth...

But the troubadour sang a Christmas song
of three ships in a harbor on Christmas day in the morning, he sang,
"And all the bells on earth did ring on Christmas day in the morning."

An angel, audible only to me, sang into my ear, "And who
Will ring the bells for the poor on Christmas day in the morning?"
The singer sang on, he was warming up, he sang for me

He sang for the bum,
Christmas morning, Monday night, December 15th.



Rayn Roberts
2003