Reckless Ramble

Vipassana - the art of living

2011-11-22T10:27:00.001-08:00

Vipassana – to see things as they reallyare

This year I came to a point in my lifewhere I wanted to know who I am truly am; to be as fully ‘me’ as I could be. For many years I have been on a path of learning, seeking, reading, realising;searching for my inner truth. But it came time to practice. I realised drugsand alcohol deaden the sensations that guide me, so I started living a soberlife. This did not happen overnight, but over many nights of forgetting what Ihad learnt until I had that sip or that smoke and wished I hadn’t done so.

I was eating with awareness, exercising, taking care of and listening to my body. But there was still a lot of stuff inme that I couldn’t access. Old stuff that was influencing my state of mind, myoutlook, my actions, my speech and it didn’t always make me feel good or makeme pleasant to be around. I recognised that the negative mental chatter wasn’t‘me’ but was having a strong influence on my life. I wanted to take a good lookat where that voice was coming from and cast it out.

Since my early adulthood in Sydney I’dheard of people taking a 10-day retreat but I’d never learnt what it wasactually about. My life’s path brought me to the point of realising I had tostop and spend some time doing very little. So this year I researchedVipassana, considered the idea for several months and finally committed totaking the course. The Vipassana website is full of good information, butnothing that can really prepare you for what is in store. It’s hard and it’sgreat.

I’m keen to share my experience because Ibelieve everyone should undertake this course and learn a technique ofmeditation. As the Dalai Lama says, “If you want people around you to behappy, develop compassion. If you want to be happy, develop compassion.”

There are Vipassana centers all over theworld. I attended a small one in Jesup, Georgia. Prior to commencing oneagrees to some stipulations, listed on the website. One also agrees tomaintain ‘noble silence’ for 10 days. I relished this! More than not speaking,it also means not having to listen to the inner-chatter monologue some peoplefeel you need to hear. One agrees to not read, write, sing, telephone, email,etc. No distractions. The environment is created to enhance reflection, meditation,time with one’s self.

Women and men are segregated. One stays ina shared accommodation facility that is simple and comfortable. The day startsat 4am with a beautiful bell that rouses you from sleep. 4.30am we congregatein the meditation hall and the day begins. It sounds dreadful to waken soearly, but it actually was easy and I enjoyed that first meditation session ofthe day most of all. It was untainted by activity. (The whole daily timetableis available online).

One learns to meditate. One learns to sitstill. One sees the power of the mind to distract, control, criticize, judge,doubt, mistrust, argue, condemn. With continued practice and attention the mindbecomes silent. In the silence, deep truths are revealed which are differentfor and personal to each individual. One develops awareness of the body andits sensations, whether slight or harsh, tingly or burning, pleasure or pain. One becomes aware of the impermanence of sensations, whether pleasant or not. One begins to understand the psychosomatic relationship between mind and body. The course instructs one to develop equanimity towards the craving and aversionthat dominates our actions and causes misery for us, and those around us. Each day of the course is constructed to teach a step and then allow time topractice. It’s experiential. Each individual will have a differentexperience. It’s all very well to read the book, honor the saint, praise thedeity. But to practice what the enlightened ones practiced gives one insightinto true feelings of peace, harmony and happiness. These feelings affecteveryone around us. Our lives are full of distractions. Meditation is takingthe time to stop, be still, be silent. Your mind will do all it can to try tomake you get up, scratch an itch, move your leg, change position. Not for nothing it’s called‘sitting with strong determination’.

It’s not for me to describe the techniquehere as the teacher at the course does it very well. It starts with a focus onthe breath, then awareness of sensations on and in the body, graduallyencompassing the whole body. The sensations are amazing and varied.

Vipassana is about purification. All thatold stuff, the past traumas we suppress, are all there waiting to be dealtwith. Meditation is giving one’s self the time to heal, to change old mentalconditions that cause misery. I experienced some deep crying that wrung meout, and pure happiness, and realisations that hit me with force; stuff that Ihadn’t looked at or couldn’t see, given time and silence, presented itself andwas somehow purged.

A teacher is available to speak with,one-on-one, twice a day. There is no discipline or punishment – just guidelinesfor practice, daily teachings and a timetable to abide by. Dedication to thepractice is the individual’s responsibility. What you put in, you get out.

Each evening there is a discourse via videofrom Mr S.N. Goenka, the Burmese man who started the schools in India in 1969. Based on Buddha’s realisations from 2500 years ago, Goenka shares the teachingsand tells stories with humor and gravity, of what it is to be human; how werespond and why, and how awareness can free us from negativity and pain.

The food is great. It’s vegetarian foodprepared with love, by old students who volunteer their time. One learns thateating less is best. Weight loss and increased energy is an indirect result ofthe course. The center is located in a natural setting away from people, carsand distractions. Walking paths are designated for women and men. Oneappreciates the sunshine after days of sitting in the Meditation Hall.

I had amazing dreams during my stay at thecenter, and creativity flourishes. One becomes aware of the mind being like ahard-drive on ‘shuffle’ – images, music, voices – streaming through the mindwithout timeline or control.

One shares the course with a group of womenwith whom one doesn’t speak. Day 10 is when noble silence ends and the energyis crazy as people start to connect, question and chatter. It’s exciting todiscover who these people are, what brought them there, their origins and plans (inmy case I met women from Peru, Portugal, South America, India, Amsterdam, America)…. It wasvery inspiring to meet so many women interested in finding true happiness andhelping others – my Dhamma Sisters.

But it’s when one leaves the protectiveenvironment of the center and re-enters society that one feels the truebenefits of the past 10 days. Again, it’s different for everyone so I can onlyrelate my own experience. Sensations are heightened, pace is slowed, and theability to undertake one task at a time was improved. Add to that all theinsights earned from singular meditation for 10 days and one feels changed in afundamental way. I realise that those changes are still revealing themselvesto me. I know how to sit quietly, feel what’s going on with me and I’m moreaware of what’s going on with people around me. Oh, how we push and pull eachother mentally in a sub-conscious manipulation to get things our way, or havepeople understand us. I feel the peace in letting things be, in letting peoplebe, in not being pulled into their drama, their perception of things, theirreactions to stuff.

The course is free. One can make a donationat the course’s end so that the center may continue to offer the teaching to others. There are no deities or icons, there are no mantras, there is no yoga, there isno worship – only to one’s inner truth.

In committing to this course, I put my bigtoe on the first step to the very long path to enlightenment. It’s all aboutpractice, daily practice. And return visits to a Vipassana center. Manypeople have done 20+ retreats, and some do longer retreats of 20, 30 days ormore.

There is much to be discovered inside each of us, if we give ourselvesthe time and priority. World peace starts with inner peace. We can all makeourselves happy and by doing so, make the world happy.

Free the Musicians!

2010-11-24T16:13:00.000-08:00

We buy milk - we don't steal from dairies
We buy eggs - we don't steal from chicken farmers
We buy newspapers, books & magazines - printers, authors, publishers & journalists need to eat
We buy clothes - Chinese laborers need to feed their children
We buy beer - 'cause we're too lazy to home-brew
We buy shoes - too much slag on the ground to go bare-foot
We buy movies - rent and return or download and watch - easy!
We buy music - 'cause musicians need to drink milk, read the paper, fry eggs and wear clothes (beer's free for musicians and if it's not we don't play there).

Yep, it's so easy to copy, burn, email, upload, file-share, but it's stealing from musicians.

It is not free to record, mix and master an album.
Musicians pay the studio, the Producer, the engineer, the mixing engineer and the mastering engineer (sometimes encompassed in one talented person).

Musicians have a great job. It's 20-odd hours working in order to spend 2 or 3 hours on stage. A "successful professional career" is based on fiscal health (talent assumed). Otherwise, we go get a day job.

You can support the music industry by purchasing songs you like, love, gotta sing, gotta live with, gotta drive by, dance by, eat by..... you know it....

Use the internet to check out new acts, stream tracks online, get excited about a musician, and share those links with your mates. $1 - $2 a song! Cheeeeeep!

Ok, end of rave. Sometimes I just have to vent.

Free the musicians!

Pit-bulls, Guns and Primates

2010-11-10T07:46:00.000-08:00

Last week my husband Mez walked into our neighbors yard as he'd seen two pit-bulls enter it and he was concerned about Precious, the neighbor's boxer dog, being safe. Our own 2 dogs followed him. Luckily, Precious was not outside that day. Mez yelled at the Pits in an attempt to scare them off. They changed course, rushing at our dogs who cowered behind him. The Pits circled Mez and both of them attacked Cora, the slower of our dogs. These were big muscled animals intent on fighting. They had her down until Mez hit one of the Pits with a big wooden bench. They let off but again went for Cora. Mez hit the Pit again and on the third strike he let go and walked away. Cora bolted. The other pit then started attacking our other dog, Gypsy. Mez hit this Pit with a plant and he let go, only to attack Gypsy again after she'd run off. He hit it again and the Pit became submissive and we eventually managed to get him in a secure spot and we called Animal Control.

Cora had run away and was nowhere to be found. She eventually returned 13 hours later, with no serious physical wounds. Both of our dogs are a little changed from the experience.

This was a highly emotional situation. At one point, I had been kicking the Pit attacking Gypsy and I was wearing slippers. How dumb is that? But my only concern was trying to keep that dog from killing my dog. I like to think I'm a rational person but when confronted with a life-threatening situation any reason was gone. I had to act. I'm lucky that dog didn't turn on me.

Both Pits were taken away by Animal Control. I've since learnt much about this breed - how they were bred for fighting bulls till death; how people started breeding the worst male with the meanest female in order to raise mean fighting dogs; how those strains are in the DNA of today's Pit-bulls; that these dogs became submissive when we punished them for fighting because in the past they'd been rewarded for fighting. Bad dog = bad owners.

But I also thought about the situation had it been humans fighting and had there been guns readily available. I realised the outcome could have been tragic and sad, as it often is. I saw how my emotions governed my actions that day. I understand, now, how people get shot, why families shoot each other, why loved ones shoot each other. All reason is gone.

I reckon guns should not be slung on hips and worn everyday, as some folks in Tennessee would like to see. When it comes down to fighting, there's not much difference between an angry Pit-bull and an angry human. We're only a few life-threatening moments from acting primal.

In Australia, guns are used by farmers to kill a wounded animal or to kill a predator destroying stock. In America, guns are used to kill people. But I wonder, what's the consequence of taking someone's life? Does it weigh heavily? Who has the right? Could a good whack from a baseball bat end a situation rather than a bullet ending a life? May I never know the answer to that question.

Election Night Nov 2010 USA

2010-11-02T19:41:00.000-07:00

As the talking heads on TV babble on in earnest I can only hope that whoever wins this round has good intentions for all of us who are at their mercy. 330 million of us, plus everyone else on this planet. I can only hope they take their positions very seriously and wish us all well. All of us in every shape, colour and size.

I prefer not to hear the babbling heads who try to create our world in their vision.
And if any among you are not happy, go vote next time and change the world!
I want my citizenship so I can participate and have a voice.
Meanwhile, if we are good to those around us and treat each other well then already we are making the world a better, more positive place.

Is it possible for truly good and honest virtues to survive the world of global politics? Can we believe any of them, for real?

In honor of Whitey

2009-12-17T10:26:00.001-08:00

As I type my favorite chicken, Whitey, lays dying in my lap. She's about 3 years old and has been the leader of the pack in our coop.

We got her, and her 3 young mates when we first came to Nashville. She's survived the hottest summers and the coldest winters, but not this one.

I found her this morning laying on the ground, twisted strangely with her eyes closed, opening them only briefly as I shifted her, wrapped her in a towel and brought her into to die with warmth and company. It's all we can wish for.
Gypsy whimpers nearby, wanting just one more sniff and trying to understand.

I cried for Whitey. She came running when I entered the coop, and would loiter around my feet as I fed them, cleaned their coop, gathered eggs, etc. She was the hen who would let me pick her up, sit her on my knee and spend some time stroking her beautiful red feathers (though more pale than most, hence her name). She'd sit quietly enjoying our time together. She knew she was the boss of the hen house.

Earlier this year we introduced 4 new girls (teenagers) into the coop. What a show of blood and feathers! Whitey would pick up a newbie by the neck and shake her around, leaving a ring of blood around the neck. It was quite terrifying, but the pecking order had to be established. Whitey taught me the true meaning of 'hen-pecked'. We had to separate the newcomers until they matured, and then we had to separate Whitey to allow for peaceful integration. Eventually they all got along, but even in her dotage she got the best food pickings when the scrap bucket was emptied.

Lately, we'd seen her feathers drooping, her movements slowing, and we knew her time was coming. Still, it was a shock to find her this morning. Faced with death, the end of life, on a Thursday afternoon....

You might laugh and sneer at this sentiment for a chicken, here in the land of deep-fried everything. But I've had more enjoyment from a live chicken, than a fried chicken.
Now, her lovely chicken breast rises and falls slowly and barely and I look at the little dinosaur lying in my lap and wish her well...

Homeless

2009-12-09T13:40:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I spent 6 hours helping set up for Project Homeless Connect in Nashville. Most of my time was spent unpacking, sorting and hanging hundreds of coats for men, women and children. The racks were stuffed with great, sometimes new, winter coats.
It was a dreadfully cold and rainy day and night. I was thankful to get home to a hot cup of tea, a warm bath and a snugly bed. I choked up with tears thinking of those who didn't have such lovely comforts and wondered how they survive in the elements night after night.

Today I attended the event as a volunteer to help the homeless 'clients' have their needs served.
The rain had abated but extreme winds and cold temperatures prevailed. Arriving at 11am I was delighted to see some of the coats I'd sorted and hung now hanging on people's backs on the street!
I was assigned to the Legal area. The County Court had opened especially to serve registrants of Project Homeless. They could get advice on getting their driver's license reinstated, records expunged, etc. One guy said he'd been charged with homicide, but the cop really did it and blamed him and now the guy wanted to get that cleared up. Another guy had a warrant out for probation violation and was afraid to go to the Court to get advice for fear of immediate arrest. He had a new-born child, a dependent girlfriend, and mind to get this sorted, but a fear of TN police. We talked about it and I encouraged him to step up and sort it out so he could live without fear. But he decided not to go ahead and seek legal advice.
I felt many of these people had lost hope. They didn't have the strength to face-up and deal with a system that required payments every step of the way. And they didn't believe things would get better for them. Some seemed childlike. Some had no idea if they had outstanding legal issues, but were willing to go ahead and find out.
I wanted to help every one of them, and I did in as much as a face-to-face conversation with someone who gives a shit can help.
I had fun chatting with these strangers, having a laugh and trying to offer hope.
It was awesome to see the huge Municipal Auditorium filled with services to make these folks feel better: haircuts, massages, foot treatments, AIDS tests, vision care, lunch, coats, toiletries, shoes and advice on all facets of life - housing, childcare, aging, petcare - and getting IDs and birth certificates - basic essentials to starting back on a track to self-sufficiency and home.

Mez and I first volunteered for Project Homeless Connect in San Francisco, some years ago. It was a huge event with thousands of people being catered to. SF is the flagship and now hosts events on a monthly basis.
I think the very least we can do is rid our cupboards of coats, sweaters, jumpers, gloves, scarves and shoes we don't use.
I was happy to see the coat racks nearly bare at day's end today. I hope a whole bunch of people are a little warmer tonight.

Sunday Yummy Sunday

2009-12-07T10:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's chill was warmed by the presence of good company and home-made food. The Titans vs Indianapolis footy game provided the right atmosphere of TV noise, smoke, beer and emotional outbursts as the game progressed.
As we all know a woman's kitchen is her domain and not easily shared. But I found the perfect cohort in Annakate who came prepared to reveal her family's ancient recipe and methodology for creating egg noodles. Annakate is a svelte foodie who's joy for cooking and living well is boundless.
As a cook, I love nothing better than feeding a grateful and appreciative eater. I don't want to cook for people who'd as easily eat junk-franchised-loveless food. As a food lover I'd rather hold out for that good quality made-with-care meal, than fill a gap with some deep-fried instant disappointment. Annakate and I had our perfect hungry crowd - smokin', drinkin' full-grown men!
Here's what we made:
Fresh fig and goat cheese wrapped in prosciutto, baked in the oven.
I tried to create a vegetarian version for myself, nested on a slice of polenta, but I won't do that again. The texture of polenta was at odds with the fig and chevre and added a blandness that didn't belong.
Goat Cheese Feta, (freshly made in Nashville by a guy who has his own goats) with Sweet Olive Oil Tortas (from the Turnip Truck, made in Spain) which are flavored with Anise, with stuffed olives.
Meanwhile, Annakate, up to her elbows in flour, beat up a dozen of our home-grown eggs and kneaded in loads of flour and a little salt.
She rolled and sliced and baked until it all turned into noodles. Me oh my!

I had a lot of turkey stock I'd created from Thanksgiving carcasses and I added a lot of diced root vegetables - sweet potato, turnip, parsnip, carrots and leeks, plus home-grown herbs.
Vegetable, Egg Noodle & Turkey soup - this was the most heartwarming food, made with love and care and fun and stories, topped with fresh parsley and accompanied with Annakate's made-from-scratch Cornbread, from a recipe she collected in Mexico.
Here's cheers to Winter food, food loving friends and women who know what to do in the kitchen!

A Warm Heart

2009-12-05T09:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I added a new page to my website. It offers the opportunity for friends, fans, family and art patrons to help me record and release a new album.
It's taken me some time to research and create a budget for this new project. I've made 8 albums and always just gone ahead 1 day at a time without budget preparation or consciousness of the forthcoming expenses involved. This has lead me to have a huge credit card debt.
But new releases invigorate one's career so I soldiered on keeping up the payments, massive interest and all.
But these days my Dad and I have a deal - that I pay off my card before I make another album. I'm whittling away at the debt, so I'm preparing for a new album as I have loads of songs begging to be shared with the world!
It's been a good education to coldly gather the figures and I realise that the further away the album-making process gets from the music-making part, the higher the costs get.
But my heart is warmed by the generosity of people who want to support me.
I am aiming for $40,000 - a low budget by today's standards.
Luckily we can swap Mez's Plumbing for photography, thereby saving up to from $500 to $3,000 for a professional shoot!
I know a gal who makes great low-end videos, saving more bucks.
The greatest expense after creating an audio master is the cost of a Publicist, and that (without the backing of a major label) is the best money spent in order to tell the world of your work.

It's early days in the fund-raising, but on the first day/night I received $325 worth of kindness and encouragement and heart-warming generosity. Thank you.

Winterizing

2009-12-03T16:01:00.000-08:00

Nashville is the first place I've ever lived where 'hibernation' becomes a reality. The squirrels (4 per TN household) gather and literally squirrel away whatever they find, a grey blanket settles over the city, trees all turn grey exposing glorious Cardinals in their fiery red.
I don't love the cold. I grew up above the snow-line on a mountain in Tasmania. We'd build igloos and snowmen and have to bundle up before heading outdoors. I've done my time in the cold.
I like wearing not-much-at-all.
But here I am, in a big warm house, thankful for heating and warm food and the company of a very good dog.
This would be my first blog blog blog. Gotta get used to that word. It's just not attractive. Sounds like a plumbing term, not a writer's word.
I'll be interested to see how this goes. How much of a blogger I am. There's always a bunch of stuff needs exorcising so I can sleep, rest my mind, clear, purge, divulge, explore.
Whether anyone else wants to read it is another story....