Walkin' John

Here's a first-music on the blog! It's my original tune, Walkin' John. I was just playing with recording directly into the computer using Audacity (see audacity.com). Using ReverbNation.com is an easy way to share home made tunes without listeners having to download it. Now this is a first try and little distorted here and there because the mic level was too high. But, eh, give it a listen anyway! I hope you like this unserious tune, almost reminiscent of early American novelty music. Here's the link http://www.reverbnation.com/sdpierson

Face a Wall

I've been meditating regularly since January, 2011 or so. This qualifies me as a decidedly novice meditator. Even so, I've learned a few things that have helped develop my practice. 

In my small house I have a small space dedicated to sitting practice. My altar is a wooden TV tray. On it are Shakyamuni Buddha and Avalokiteshvara statues, a candle, a flower vase, a water bowl and an incense burner. My meditation cushion is in front of that and for a long time I would sit with my back to the altar, similar, I thought, to how we would practice at Muddy Water Zen on Thursday nights. Then it occurred to me that we turn away from the altar so as to face a wall when meditating. A sort of Bodhidharma style of practice. So, I started to practice facing a wall. In my setting the wall is about 12 inches from my nose. Not having the distraction of something to look at helps with focus. 

(This pic is old. The altar has gone through a couple "altar-ations" since, but the point is well illustrated here I think.)

From reading on the topic and practice, I've found value in not giving in to the mind/body's urges to move about, scratch what itches, look around, or quit before the timer goes off. Being still, enduring the discomfort, or downright pain sometimes, of sitting demonstrates in a small but tangible way that suffering is impermanent. The same goes for paying no attention to your itchy nose. I've set a very doable goal of sitting 15 minutes a day. I usually will sit for longer than that, but setting the bar low is helpful to me. What ever bit of time you decide to meditate, don't get up until that time is up! A lot of thoughts flit through the mind while meditating and the seemingly rational thought that "This is boring, I've sat long enough" will probably be one. In a real sense, what you think, feel, and emotionally attach to are none of your business when meditating. Learning to not attach to thoughts comes with consistent practice.

But, one thing that has most helped me keep to a daily commitment to meditate is technology. If you have a smart phone find a meditation related app you like. I'm not going to promote one over another here, but I have found one that tracks how many days I've meditated consecutively. I would be loathe to break the chain, which is approaching 300 days at the time of this posting. I have to admit to some attachment to practicing daily. My main reason for being so strict about it in my young practice is to develop a habit and skill for meditation. It's not a burden, just a daily practice that I find benefits how I go about life away from the cushion.

How to meditate is beyond my scope of practice. Find a good teacher. Simple as that. Why to meditate and what the benefits are, I do have something to say about... and are also topics for later blog posts.

Be Well,

Geum Jeong

How I came to vegetarianism, or "If it tries to get away, maybe you shouldn't eat it"

Sonora Rose, or "Sunny" as we knew her, came from a pet store in Arizona. She was a Bichon Frise/Cocker Spaniel mix with a careful way of being. At one time she was quite curious and friendly to all. Then she was roughed up by a larger dog while we were walking her in a crowd during a summer street event. There was no evidence of injury, but it seems from that point she was cautious to a fault around other dogs. I remember one time her trying to get away from a small, playful Bichon puppy as though to say, "I don't know who you think I am but I'm certainly not a dog!" She was a cuddler and a lover of people-food. So, like many of us, maybe she was confused about who she was.

Sunny died February 12, 2011. She was a beautiful animal. Her white, curly coat was somehow perfected as she was laid on the vet's table. Her dark, Sunny-less eyes seemed to read like graffiti on a wall in my mind, "Sunny was here". Seeing her there through tears, a layer of confusion about who I am as a human animal was lifted. I suddenly had this odd thought, "How is she different from any other animal? If I wouldn't dare to think to eat her, why would I eat any animal?" While I had been considering the idea of not eating meat before, this image of her has served as reason enough to become serious about being a vegetarian.  She's one of my mental talismans. 

Maybe it's just me getting older, but I am more serious about clearing this confusion around who I am. And, for me in what I feel is a less confused state, lessening suffering by not eating other animals is the right thing to do. 

Cities on a map

I've flagged some of the cities I've visited or have lived in. The blue balloons are favorites. Some of those are Sedona, San Francisco, Carmel, Mendocino, Bar Harbor,  Boston, and Elora, Ontario
in Canada. 

After a February with its adequate share of snow, cold, wind, slush, slipping and sliding on ice I'm thinking warmth and water. I'd welcome some ideas. But, when vacation time hits in July and August I may
have changed my mind!

• Create your own travel map or travel blog
• Find the best vacation rentals at TripAdvisor

Making Your Own Way...

A little bit of a true story...

It was late winter in Flagstaff, Arizona. At fifty five degrees and a clear sky, it was t-shirt weather in March. I was hiking with two friends who were icons of creativity and mental freedom for me. In northern Arizona you have to look up to see the horizon. Something about that brought more than just a few moments of awe when taking in the clearest of blue skies trimmed by the San Francisco Peaks. Having been a college student there at Northern Arizona University is one of the greatest privileges I've had.

Hiking on a ridge, Kevin, Jeff (aka 'Spin'), and I were reveling in the oddity of walking around in short sleeves when it was below freezing a week earlier. We came on the usual outcropping of rocks found in these parts. So, we took to a little climbing. As much as I enjoyed hiking, I was far from being a natural outdoors-type. Kevin and Spin did this kind of thing on a weekly, if not daily, basis. We climbed, hiked and finally came upon a unique rock formation. Two huge flat-sided rocks sat right next to each other. Looking up, we could see that it would be possible to use these rocks to climb up to a small ledge then shimmy up another mound of rock in order to get up to a plateau where we could walk among some Ponderosa Pines.

Kevin went first, crabbing up between the two rock faces, back to one face, feet pushing up against the other. Kevin made it to the ledge quickly, got a toe-hold and was up on the plateau, shouting down climbing advice within a couple minutes. Spin took off between the rock faces, ratcheting himself up. Before he got to the ledge, I got myself in between the massive rocks and began crabbing upward. I wanted to see for myself just how he would get from the ledge to the plateau with that dome-like mound as an intervening obstacle.

Spin and I were on the ledge together. It was maybe three feet wide and a little more than a boot's length deep. Spin climbed up a ways and then took hold of a woody root jutting from the vertically oriented earth in front of us. He grabbed hold, found a place for his right foot to securely push from and was up on the plateau. Kevin and Spin were looking down giving me encouragement. The dome-mound seemed huge, like part of a great sphere erupting from the formation. The obvious approach seemed to grab the same root as Spin and follow along. And that is exactly what I did.

When I grabbed the root it felt firm. But with some pulling, it broke free. I was a little less than half way up the dome at this point. I was laying flat on the surface with no toe-hold or anything to grab with my hands. It seemed the stress Spin put on the root, loosened it up. Gravity began to have it's predictable effect - I began to slide down the face of the rock. In my mind the distance from where I was to the ground where I began my ascent became measured with precision. "It's something like thirty feet to the ground. Dave, as you're falling you might be able to get into that 'crab' position and keep from meeting land. If you can't you'll probably break a leg, but you'll live. Don't worry. Screaming in pain will be appropriate. No one will think less of you for it."

While I was working out this thought experiment, Kevin and Spin were yelling out, "Flatten out, Dave! Spread out your arms and legs! Get your center of gravity low next to the rock!" As it turned out, that was good advice. I slid slower down the rock face. But still, I was getting mentally ready to be a broken mess down on the ground. As I slid over the peak of the dome to the more vertical part I picked up speed. Then I stopped.

I'd forgotten about that very excellent ledge that served as the base to begin ascending the dome. My feet landed firmly, securely on the ledge. My heart raced and I was shaking. "You okay, Dave?!", shouted Kevin. "Shit!", yelled Spin, with a big smile on his face. Honestly, I don't remember what I said in response. But now my work was to figure out a way up the dome for myself. I gathered myself and looked up at the blue sky. It was nice. Then as I looked at the rock face and what was available, I saw a rock jutting out a little to the left of where that stupid root was. I shimmied up a little way and checked how well attached the rock was. I grabbed on, found a place to leg press up and then I was on the plateau with my cohorts. I was shaky and drained of energy from the adrenalin surge.

The plateau was expansive with Ponderosa Pines soaring upward. The rest of the hike was more leisurely. Walking in a Ponderosa Pine forest is like walking through a strawberry field. The closer you get to a Ponderosa, the strawberry fragrance intensifies. Getting your nose right up to the bark and inhaling deeply is wonderful. Maybe the Ponderosa inspired the tree hugging phenomenon?

Thinking back to this experience, the lesson is obvious. Not to be too allegorical, but at many key points in life, making your own way and not following what seemingly worked for someone else is what is called for. I've been more than guilty of seeking advice, over thinking things, and trying to find the best role model to pattern myself after. But, when it comes down to it, looking within, making a choice and moving forward has gotten me farther. Trust yourself, ok?