thousand more years to go. west side story

it's been nineteen glorious years. how fortunate hwubby and i have each other to travel life with.

the best marriage advice i ever received is this. hold your hands and see each other you will end in divorce, hold your hands and see god in each other then you'll be fine. i can't say i have totally imbibed this wisdom and totally live by it because in the heat of the moment i forget, and not infrequently. what do i forget, really? that i am deeply flawed and imperfect. sure, my innermost and highest self is pure and perfect. but there is a tangled ball of conditionings, preconceived notions, habitual tendencies covering it. the moment i can bring my attention back to that place of inner tranquility i can see what's at hand differently. the self of me sees the self of him.

i saw the movie 'west side story' when i was little. i loved the music. who created these gorgeous sounds that squeeze my heart and wring my gut? leonard bernstein. bernstein. i have loved that name ever since. and an inexplicable desire appeared. i would like to have that name. i never told anyone. what's the possibility of a chinese girl from a poor neighborhood in hong kong to become a 'bernstein?' well, here i am. as a matter of fact, it wasn't until years after i got married that i recalled this experience. now, with 21 years of spiritual efforts i can truly say that was the voice of my highest and innermost self. the voice of boundless potential. the voice of infinite possibility.

i am truly looking forward to the thousand more years with hwubby, hand in hand, heart in heart, seeing the self in each other.

sahasrara. inner voice.

lately i have been studying the thousand petal lotus. sahasrara. because i want to self-realize and i want to know what the place is like. anyway my study buddy says, let's find an image of it. right away a tiny wisp of voice goes through me. sacred power. a little book. a dense book packed with profoundly esoteric knowledge and graphics of all the chakras. yet i didn't go with what this voice is telling me because my attention habitually goes with the tendency that goes like this, there is something better than this out there, what i know is not good enough. what happens next is i email several people whom i know are knowledgeable about such things. meanwhile that same small voice keeps coming back. so i dig out that little book, open it. sure enough an exquisite illustration of the sahasrara appears before me. i examine it closely. i've looked at this image before, several times over a span of years. still i look at it like i am seeing it the first time. i feel i know it better. before it felt like something so far away, so unattainable. now i have this sense that, yeah, it is in me. i suppose this is recognition, realizing this is part of me. as a matter of fact, it feels more like all that i can see that is me is manifestation of this subtle wonder. there is a tibetan mantra that goes like this. om mane padme hung. translated literally it means 'the jewel is in the lotus.' i am truly fortunate to be on a path that empowers me to experience that lotus right inside me.

since then it has been so easy to guide attention to the depths in the head where this sublime lotus dwells.

 i didn't feel surprised when i received a response from an expert in response to my question. the book 'sacred power' has what you need, go there. i realize this is such a powerful affirmation of my inner voice. this experience strengthens my connection with my own inner self that much more.

somehow all this brings to mind a metaphor from hindu scriptures. this human world is a five colored lake. stalks spring out of the muddy waters. at the end of each stalk is a lotus bud. each bud has the potential to blossom into a thousand petal lotus. very few do so. 

sari sadhana

after a week of hours and hours of wrapping, googling, now i am ironing. this sari thing is truly meditation in action. whether i am focusing on making a pile of pleats, pinning - lots of safety pins in order to have some sense of security, at least at this beginning stage -, tucking - a big part is tucking while not looking bulky and just so that i won't trip on myself -, and now, final pre-prep, ironing. as i pull in another stretch of fabric and gently smooth it out over the ironing board i notice that i am taking long, deep breaths. out of the corner of eyes i catch the huge, golden daisies that are to go onto the tray tomorrow morning. i feel this sense of beauty, shining splendor that is so very mine. it feels so natural to pull out jewelry, make up. i am not just doing it to make myself look nicer. it is what the god within is like. beautiful. shining. gorgeous. this opportunity to wave the flame to the lord is a powerful reminder of who i am waving the light to. my very own innermost, highest self within. the same self that is in all.

btw i am not saying i can wrap as good as i look in this pic. but, believe me, i am getting there. practice. practice. practice.

entrenched attachment to a warm bed

breakthrough this night. mind coming out of a nice dream which dissipates moments upon awake. body relaxed and still. a soundless voice appears. without words it is the distillation of why it's such a seemingly endless struggle to get up before early. i see my childhood and teenage years, all the way into young adulthood, encapsulated in one image. sleeping on coarse, cold concrete. walls are pieces of aluminum sloppily held together with holes everywhere. no roof. just another piece of odd shaped aluminum precariously sitting on some thin wood bars. mice scratch wood and aluminum, whatever they could lay their sharp claws on. cockroaches and centipedes roam like they are in the wild. come to think of it i was hospitalized for a week because of a poisonous bite from a centipede in a ear. the child can't wait to get up out of fear, anxiety and over-the-top worry. and so it strikes me crystal clear. of course there is an entrenched attachment of a warm, comfy bed in a safe and quiet place. in fact, that week in the hospital was the happiest days of my childhood. i had my own bed. night nurse fed me milk and cookie. anyway the body is not of a child anymore. but the trauma is lodged in the firmament of being.

so how come i have no trouble getting up super early for retreats? because the allure of immersing in the sublime inner peace and security is irresistible. it's the real thing. it overrides the mental circuitry. but for the allure to become permanent it takes sustained spiritual work over a long period of time with full faith and surrender. and so i get out of bed very encouraged. it's just another residual tendency. i am the supreme, sublime self and that's that. i sit for an hour in the sweetness of the self. i have a deep sense that something heavy has been lifted. i feel that much lighter. if i didn't have things to take care of i could just sit and sit and sit.

i see the door frame. i see the sword.

this week so far has been one big test. in one form. here's how it goes down. on the dot at three, or four, or somewhere in between, i stumble out of sleep. the mind is awake. the body is totally still. nothing wrong so far, right? but i can't find an iota of will to summon the body to move. not even wiggle the pinkie. it has taken me two days, almost three, to admit this openly. since monday the heart flutters periodically. thoughts, feelings and emotions associated with, what else, fear and worry, come through. yes, i can tie one reason or another to each and every one of them. but none of them stick. they come and go like foam and froth in the ocean. this night, as i huddle myself in hwubby's warm embrace and he is trying so hard to listen to me even though he is barely awake it dawns on me this. i am looking at naked fear itself. worry is fear's first cousin. so is regret. there was a time, a long time, when i would get sucked into a panic mode or angry and end up creating a mess which i had to clean up. on the pragmatic level it's a huge waste of time, energy and resources. on the spiritual level does it take me closer to my own true nature? yes, if i could see it for what it was and let it go. but, no, when i took it for what i was. nonetheless those experiences have now become benchmarks as i walk the path of exploring my own true nature. i see that i am not sucked into these mental turmoils so quick like before. i look at them and i know they don't add to nor diminish the inner self.

this is the second week i am studying this verse in breakthrough.

what was needed at all times
was full faith and surrender.
if the door frame is low
then bend your head and walk through it.
if a sword is brandished before you
then lower your head; otherwise misfortune will result.

looks like i am able to see the low door frame, i can see the brandishing sword. 
i say that's progress, suk wah.

you would have done it for me, suk wah.

there we are, clara driving since ten in the morning. we stop at a starbucks at noon. she has tea and banana. i have mocha. a nice pause. then it's another hour on the road when it suddenly comes to me i don't see my little backpack at my feet. clara immediately pulls over. i search and search. i ask myself, where do you last see it, suk wah. when i pay at starbucks. then what do you do? i go to the bathroom. o, i must have, i most probably have left it in the bathroom. i hear clara whisper to herself, then it's lost. nevertheless she opens her cell, starts calling for the starbucks in that area. there are two. i call the first one on the list. a guy answers. i explain. he goes to check, comes back and say, no, it isn't here and nobody has turned anything in. my stomach twists. a rock plunges into my solar plexus. clara calmly says, call the second one. as she says that i am just filled with gratitude for having such a friend. you see, clara has been up since before dawn packing up the rental house in tahoe and she has to pick up her dog after dropping me off. anyhoo, back to calling starbucks. this time, when i get to the work 'backpack' the female voice on the other end says, 'yes, we have it here.' i say, thank you, let me call you back.

among the jumble mumble of thoughts that rush through the mind this one jumps out. if i can get into the house i don't need it back today. so i call hwubby who is in seattle for his chinese bone treatments. he says, yes, there are two spare keys and here're where they are. i end the call. i am about to call starbucks again when clara stops me and says, how are you going to get it back? i say, they can pack it up and mail it back to me. clara says, you really think they're going to do that? i say, look, they can say no and i'll figure out something else, maybe i'll give them some money. clara says, in a tone that doesn't take no for an answser, we'll go back. i say, okay, if you'll let me pay a night of dog hotel and the gas money. she says, dog hotel, yes, gas, no. i know clara after five years of studying scriptures together. the deal is done.

we are both quiet all the way to the store. the staff there couldn't be nicer. a girl goes to the back office and retrieves my backpack. everything's there. i thank them. i ask, where did you find it? she points to the table across from the cashier. now i remember. i leave my mocha there before i go into the bathroom. why would i leave the backpack there? i have no idea.

as clara and i sip drinks outside the store, she says, when you were on the phone part of my mind says, o i'm so tired, i can't drive another two hours. she reaches out her hand, gently puts it over mine and says, another voice says, suk wah would have done it for you, i know that's the voice of my higher self, i can do it, let's see ourselves leaving tahoe and arrive here right now. i finish the sentence and say, yes, do over. right then and there she nibs the tendency in me to get stuck in the past.

here's the great thing about walking the path with a committed seeker. every moment is an opportunity to do over, start over, a fresh beginning, a new life.

i am so fortunate to have such a dear friend in clara. indeed. the self is the same in all.

breath-in-chief.

don't want to come out of meditation. seriously. this is my meditation experience of the day. the body and mind, particularly the body, are immersed in this sweet and pure peace that hums with vibrancy. today the legs have hit the sweet spot. they don't go numb on me like they usually do after forty-five minutes or so. and the breath. o me o my. the breath. i really have the experience my conscious efforts have nothing to do with the ever deepening of the inbreaths and lengthening of the outbreaths. as i type this sentence i can feel this subtle shift in the breathing movement like a master noodle maker deftly pulling the dough between his skillful hands. i am mesmerized. this inner self of mine is truly the breath-in-chief.

back to this morning's meditation. while i am reciting the poems 'a thousand mirrors' and 'breakthrough' i notice, for several times, i emerge from a place beyond words, where there is no sense of time. but i don't catch myself pausing amidst recitation. yet i simply know where to pick up from where i left. the words just arise from this quiet place within. this quiet, fascinating place, my own self.

just like that, two hours have flown by when i step off the meditation mat.

salutations to spiritual technology

i've been listening to an ancient mantra specifically for removing negativity and doubt. three to nine times at a time. mp3 and adobe files are on the desktop. i put on headset and instantly transported to the world where the fiery form of lord shiva tears off the fifth head of brahma. the brahmin's voice is pure and strong. the melody is more than lyrical. i can feel the vibrations working in the bone marrow and beyond. feeling great is great. but there's also proof is in the pudding. so now what's happening is the tune is sort of set into a neural circuit. it loops. i guess i can say i am having an experience of what the scriptures and guru say, to the effect, you can't just yank negativity out of the mind just like that and once and for all. well, i can but it's when i've already done enough spiritual work to prepare myself. suffice to say i am not in that category, not yet. here's the good news. the mind tends to get bored. it is all into the next new thing and wants to go towards the light. the light of joy. the light of courage. the light of strength. so a proven and tested remedy is to give the mind a new habit to chew on. when the mind is busy with setting up the new loop, audio, visual or a combination of both, i forget about negativity. and when i am aware of them i see them for what they are. ocean foam. look real but uc-ah. nope. that's fabulous news to me. no fighting necessary. easy way out. now all i have to to when i catch a thought, emotion that don't look and sound like my own inner self, just hit the buttons on the desktop and, voila, i am back in my own inner self. for some highly evolved yogis they don't need to go into such a long and elaborate chant for this purpose. but, mind you, suk wah, this is a thought that sounds like comparing based in poverty consciousness. go right back to the mantra. right now. okay. after posting this on facebook and twitter.

salutations to the power of spiritual technology.

mp3 brahmin

i am emailing back and forth with a brahmin in an indian village. he is from a lineage of at least fourteen generations. he specializes in yajur vedas, a major branch in the four vedas. the vedas are what i think of as the hindu equivalent of torah. directly revealed scriptures. what is my point here? i am so fortunate. until as recent as a decade or so you have to travel far and wide, go deep into india and you have to know what to look for. it's a pilgrimage itself just to find a real brahmin, not to mention a great one. and here i am, sipping mango lassi, tweedling my thumbs in oakland, california, downloading an ancient mantra sent by this real deal brahmin on mp3. it is hilarious to watch him working my vedic charts. in traditional white brahmin garbs, in full lotus, entering my data into a laptop. i have forgotten to mention he is on facebook. hwubby and i are fortunate off the charts to be able to have him read our stars and planets face to face. but i understand he skypes. meet the twenty-first century brahmin.

all these delightful things aside the reason i have a sense he is for real is this. i don't like astrologers doing astro speak to me, like, mars is in retrograde, venus is moving into your eighth house, jupiter is not aligned...blah blah blah. all i want to know is whether i should fire my literary agent who has not made a sale yet. i can't grasp any of these astro-techno talk. in fact they confuse me. my brain becomes a mush. but this is not the way this brahmin works. he takes my birth data, enters into this software, and in a few moments he begins to speak, describing what stars and planets and so on are there. but it is obvious to me that he is not speaking to me so much as he is entering all this data into him. this goes on a couple of minutes. then he looks at me and says, in his accented but clear and direct english, this is your chart in general, now we can discuss, what questions you have? from then on he speaks in plain and simple language to me. his voice is bright and light. the timbre is metallic. the color is crystalline. it is suffused with authority steeped in a lifetime of rigorous learning and discipline.

as i reflect on being in his presence, i recall i have an experience in the past that is as close as can be to this. my younger sister is in the hospital. they tell me her liver is failing rapidly. it's in the eighties in hong kong. the doctor says, there's nothing we can do. i remember vividly how i feel deep within. i say to myself, no, i'm not going to let her die. i pull out all of my connections. i am given to call this person in taiwan. his name. dai ge. big brother in mandarin. all i know he is a practitioner of a secretive and exclusive branch of tibetan buddhism. supposedly he is elusive and hard to reach. but i get him just like that. i dial the number. he picks up. i tell him who sends me and say, my sister is very sick. he asks a simple question and puts me on hold. i don't think he is away for long. anyway when he returns he says, i have borrowed life for your sister, here's a mantra that she should repeat. i say, what's your fee? he says, no. i return to the hospital. before i can enter the ward a nurse greets me at the door. she says, your sister's liver function is much better. i go to my sister's bed. she's sitting up. i say, muimui, what happens? she says, last night i am sleeping... suddenly the room turns very bright, i see this man at the door, he says, come with me...i say, no, my big sister tells me not to go with anyone...he says again, come with me...i say, no, big sister tells me not to go with anyone... he says it the third time...i say the same thing...and he goes away... and the brightness disappears.

gee, why am i rambling all this ancient history? o, yes, the brahmin. i ask a question, or state my particular situation. he goes quiet for a moment. it is evident that his attention and gaze are turning within. who knows what worlds he is consciously watching. but all the time i have no doubt that he is present with me. in a couple of instances he asks a simple but totally unrelated question. and then he goes quiet again. i can sense that he is going through some scanning and computation within. and then he would give a direct answer to my question or remedy to the situation at hand.

hwubby says, a lot of the things he says are really what i feel deeply inside but the mind kicks into doubt, like, really, no, this can't be, it doesn't make sense. no, not to the physical senses. my inner self and the self of hwubby and the self of all are the same in essence. my inner self is no different from the self of the sun, moon, jupiter, mars and the stars and planets in the hundreds of billions of galaxies that the physical eyes can and cannot see. in fact i would go so far as to say my inner self is the same as the self that creates the entire physical universe.

i am listening and chanting along to the ancient mantra that the facebook brahmin mp3 me. the beautiful and bright vibrations fill me up. there's no room for negativity and doubt in the mind. and this is precisely the purpose of this mantra. take away negativity and doubt.

my inner self and self of universe.

hwubby says, listen to this. i say, yeah? he says, i got a nice email. i say, you always get nice emails. he says, no, you are not listening. i say, okay, okay, what is this nice email? he says, remember when i coached the choirs in the universities in seattle? i says, ye-ah? he says, i asked the department chair if i could stay with her, she says, no my house is too messy but i've arranged you to stay in a bigger house. i say, yeah, i remember, so? he says, so i write to them, saying i have to stay in seattle two weeks for chinese bone treatments, and my wife would come for a few days, i ask them if i could stay with them, and i would be happy to contribute to rent and use of kitchen. i say, yeah, so? he says, they write right back, they say, just come and stay, they're happy to have me and don't worry about rent. i say, what about me, can i stay too? hwubby says, oy, it's always about you, isn't it.

kidding aside, it's really my growing experience that if and when i am on the right track, meaning i am listening to the inner self, the self of the universe sings with me in harmony. i know it's the right thing for hwubby to go to seattle for two weeks as brother pang says. so we just go ahead and book the tickets for the earliest time he can go. where is he going to stay? we don't know. well, the self of the universe knows.

chinese bar mitzvah

it is an extraordinarily sparkling meal. not just because of the meal. what could it be. how about this. watching wonderful, thoughtful parents, who happen to be my cousins, raising wonderful, thoughtful children. so happy to see their dedicated sacrifices bearing fruits. check this out. every weekday six thirty am my cousin tommy cooks and packs lunch for his two kids. i am not talking about those semi-processed packets. i'm talking about stir fry sirloin steak. no wonder the kids' classmates want to have a taste of their food. can't blame them. i would too. the impact on the child as a person in terms of character, in terms of what truly matters, is beyond measure. priceless. it's so heartwarming to see the kids discussing their lunch menu with their father. being raised in america they have no problem criticking their father's cooking all done in a good nature way. see, it turns out to be an opportunity to practice speaking honestly with respect and love. their mother, holding a high power job in a big corporation, makes sure she groceries not once a week but every couple of days, so that the kids have fresh food. how cool is that.

i kind of digress. so why are we having a meal all the way out in napa on this sunday? as hwubby says, this is a chinese bar mitzvah moment. my nephew is turning thirteen. see, the way i look at it, a kid's birthday is the time to celebrate the parents as well. and good for my nephew, he makes a speech and thanks his dad and mom. now, that's the sign of a mensch.

it's japanese food. i love, love, love japanese food. but it's hard to decide which maki to get when they all look so good. not so with my niece. her father assigns her the task to pick a couple of maki her bright, sparkling eyes go down the options. obviously she is carefully considering. in moments she raises her head and says, with great clarity and conviction, eelskin avocado and salmon skin. i am impressed. on the spot she is presented with an opportunity to make a decision that has immediate consequence, and she steps up to the plate beautifully. her choices turn out to be one of my top fave in the sumputuous meal. eelskin and salmon skin are difficult to pull off. more often than not they are chewy, rubbery or utterly dry. this is none of either. the texture is a fine balance between crispiness and al dente. the unique taste and aroma of fish skin is held intact. evidently top quality oil is used and fantastic deep fry skill is involved here. there's nothing like the distinct taste and smell of deep fry oil that can spoil the taste buds. even half a drop of excess oil can drag the composition down. none of that here.

i can't recall who picks the beef carpaccio. that's my personal top fave. veil thin slices of ruby color wagyu beef marinated in a ginger sauce. the whole experience of it is fresh and alive. never imagine i would use these two words to describe beef. there is barely any marble in the meat. but it is incredibly juicy and creamy while showing tender texture. there is chewing involved as beef should be but it's effortless. in fact the chewing creates some alchemy drawing out a subtle sweetness that keeps intensifying.

for my entree i decide on a rice bowl. check this out. i can't see the rice because the entire surface is covered by edible gemstones. bite-size superb quality sashimi. a dazzling array of saffron hues mingled with alabaster, soft gold, ruby. the ocean and jewels have become one. i don't know why i choose chirashi over sushi but, boy, am i glad i do. dare i say it's an 'inner self moment.' wait a sec. how can i forget the crown jewel. uni. every one is a pearl drop of ocean essence.

the birthday boy chooses potstickers as his pick of appetizer. i am skeptical about that until i eat it. but before i can eat it i look at the plate and says, where are the potstickers? all i can see is a amber dome around the bottom which are clusters of foam. the waiter says, the potstickers are under this bacon cream on a bed of sundried tomato puree. boom. this is off the charts creative. often i think the traditional red vinegar dipping works well for pork potstickers but too overpowering for chicken potstickers. sundried tomato puree? absolutely change i can believe in.

my cousin picks a different kind of rice bowl. the shimmering yellowtail slices are cooked at the table. the stone rice bowl is four hundred fifty degrees. couldn't be more straight off the wok than this. given the superlative quality of the fish this is the best way to showcase the quality of the key ingredient. this is clarified butter and ocean deep all in one.

my cousin says, you've got to try this tempura sauce. it's not the conventional tamari-based one. creamy white. it has a tiny tint of heat and citrus. i can place the yoghurt. that's how far i can get. turns out it's a japanese citrus, yuzu, and there is wasabi. talk about restraint. this is it. just a teeny wheeny bit to make the right amount of difference without  taking over the delicate veggi.

i lose count of how many wonderful japanese meals that are spoiled by one thing. pickled ginger. so often i stay away from the vinegary attacks. too bad because i really like a nice pile of good pickled ginger. this time something tells me this is different. it definitely looks different. ivory. not hard pink. i gingerly take one bite. and in short order my cousin transfers all the piles in front of everybody to my custody.

all in all i have a blissed out time. so much so that i completely forget to follow up with the waiter about what cut of the beef that is. at least i know it's australian. a huge spiritual teaching is not to compare. but i can't help but judge that this down-under stuff trumps kobe. and i 'll compare one more thing. comparing my nephew with his father. dare i say the son is on track to outdo his father. what a good thing that is. happy birthday, nephew. thanks for being born. may you continue to make the world a better place the way you do.

choose that which takes you closer to god

is this a message from the inner self? or not? this is the question. as my meditation practice is getting stronger and stabler, little by little, over time, the difference between the choices becomes more and more subtle. not utterly black and white, but rather in a gray zone of various hues. hwubby and i made a decision a couple of days ago. it has consequences that ripple out in all areas of our life. even though we had been doing due diligence, keeping our vigilance and clarity in check in the course leading up to our decision i soon see doubt appear. what if...maybe i should have done this...may be i shouldn't have done that...am i doing the right thing...blah blah blah. in the moment all these thoughts and feelings are real as can be. and as i reflect on it i don't think i was aware of my breath throughout these mental grips. as the agony came to a peak an insight bursts forth. see what happens when you wake up. i get it right away. between sleeping and waking states is this zone that is sort of like deep outer space. with eyes closed i am in this vast place that is quiet, still, crystal clear and suffused with a throb that is subtle and vibrant all at once. here i can see what i cannot see when there are all kinds of thoughts and mental activity clamoring my attention. so, fast forward to the next morning. i am in that space. i look into it. none of those thoughts and feelings that were hammering me the previous day is around. aaah. so they have dissipated. all that i experience is a sense of deep peace and contentment. i glide into it further. and i hear this. the decision is neither good nor bad. it is what it is. now move on. with that i see possibilities open up in all directions as a result of this decision. now i can explore them. isn't that great. then i recall this teaching. choose that which takes you closer to god. if they are pretty much the same in this way, do what's practical.

he doesn't understand me. true?

a while back, like nineteen years back, several months into my stay in the ashram, i had this encounter with a swami. this memory hasn't surfaced for this long until now when i am reflecting on the impact of a regular meditation practice on the arc of life, rather than being tunnel-vision, nitpicking the day-to-day meditation experiences. so, back to the encounter. this swami is not into small talk. really, really, not into it. we are walking on a path through the sprawling woods on the ashram grounds, in opposite directions. i don't't expect him to say anything to me at all. so i am surprised when he says, suk wah. my mind goes blank. his eye stays on me, and says, how are you doing? by knee jerk reaction i blurt out, fine. i am all but fine inside. i cannot sit still on the meditation mat for more than a minute. the mind is constantly churning out thoughts, feelings and reactions that are judgmental, anxious, angry, sad, blah blah blah. and they all feel important to me. they are so real. i am so frustrated that meditation can't make them go away. recently i see this horrific image of innumerable cargo containers chaotically piling on top of each other after the tsunami in japan. that's sort of how chaotic and out of control my mind is at that point. those unyielding mental tsunami totally gut out my connection to my inner self. i want to ask the swami an intelligent and smart and thoughtful question to show him what an evolved yogi i am. but, oy, i can't think of a word. i am babbling on and on here. in the moment it lasts exactly that. a moment. no wonder the scripture says thought travels faster than the speed of light. anyway the swami pauses for a moment, and says to me, keep meditating. then he walks away. i remember now clearly my reaction to his words. i think to myself, no, you don't understand what i am going through.

nineteen years later. i realize he does know what i go through. that day on the path in the woods i am in a muddled state. the mind is going through a tsunami. i get swept up in the towering waves of dark thoughts, feelings and reactions. in the teachings of the buddha i take what's impermanent permanent. now i know all thoughts, feelings and reactions come. and go. without exceptions. unless i hold on to them. unless i feed into them. this is where my regular meditation practice take me across these turbulent waters. i gently return attention to the steady, rhythmic movement in the natural and easy breath while i notice and observe these mental waves. i don't treat one more important than the other. the differences in contents don't matter. what matters is my attention go underneath the contents and stay with the power of the throb that is obviously driving these mental waves.

yes, the swami understands me. he knows i have what it takes to keep meditating. he knows in time i will come to see what i need to see if i keep meditating. thank you, swamiji.

worry is toxic. inner sky is ever bright.

so-and-so says, please call this person, she is worried. honestly i have no problem calling anybody. but the energy of 'worry' is dark and toxic. it is fear-based. not only that it doesn't help anything and goes nowhere it actually pulls you down, drains you and veils your vision so you don't see what you ought to see. it really makes things worse. hwubby is on a long road to recovery. my back is hurting. i have to conserve and protect whatever energy i have to make sure he is on an irreversible path to full recovery and i am taking as much care as i can of myself. truly, the only unfailing source of comfort comes from meditation. there is this wave upon wave of comfort gently arising from deep within permeating everywhere, washing over the exhausted body, going right into the bones and beyond. i eat it everyday. never tire of it. this is what truly nourishes me. this is what keeps me going. this is what holds me in proper perspective of things. nothing diminishes or adds to my inner self. clouds of worry may bring about a downcast. but it's an illusion. my inner sky is ever bright.

have i mentioned worry blocks grace? if i have, this is to remind myself that it does. big time.

a lot of hwubby to keep up with

no lacking opportunity to cultivate more patience. check this one out. hwubby is to catch a plane that depart at seven twenty in the morning. days prior he says, i'll pack light. when i go to bed the night before after nine the hallway is still littered with stuff and an empty suitcase. what i can do i have already done. his day's travel food, essential food items and vitamins. what about his wardrobe? well, let me put it this way. he is a spontaneous guy and he has specific tastes in style.

anyhow i awake when he drops into bed. it's a quarter to one. i say, as i see the suitcase still empty in the hallway when i am on my way to pee, what time do you have to leave the house? i am holding back the impulse to say, why are you still not packed? the inner self is signaling me, drop it, leave it, let him be responsible for his own actions. so i follow the prompting. i just say, i'll get up at five. he says, i'll be up by then, i'll wake you up. fine. what happens then? i dream a vivid, bright, fantastic dream. when i emerge from it it is about the same moment he sits up on his side of the bed. i ask, what time is it? after a moment i hear him say, o, no, it's eight after five. boom. we are instantly awake. i hold the burning question until he is about to step out of the house a couple of minutes after six. you didn't hear the alarm go off? he says, yeah, i must have slept through it.

he leaves the house with these. a suitcase to check in, a super heavy tumi briefcase all expanded, a tote bag of food and his l. l. beans shoes stuffed right on top of his lunch and snacks. he says, i just checked, it's snowing in new york. well, really, surprise. all this while i am hovering quietly downstairs, preparing his morning drinks, repacking certain items according to his instructions, and only sparingly asking, as calmly as i can, where are you at? and i make sure i don't announce the time. why? firstly he would say, i am aware of the time, you don't need to remind me. secondly the inner self says, just focus on the task at hand, get him out of the house, and he'll be out at whatever time he'll be out.

aaah. the subtle effect of the tendency to control. bingo. once i recognize it's my tendency to control all that would have irritated and annoyed and agitated me don't irritate, annoy nor agitate me anymore. i just stay firmly in the space of attentive watchfulness.

anyhow, to finish off counting his luggage, there is a fourth bag filled with magazines, newspapers, clippings, envelopes, greeting cards, etc. why? what? how come? all these questions jump around in my mind. the inner self says, forget it, just keep quiet, suk wah.

then he spends a few more moments sorting through a separate pile of cards, clippings. i wait patiently. yes. patiently. i experience this simple quiet as i stand there watching his head lowered in a pondering mode. and i remember this. he came home yesterday from lunch all excited. he handed me a package and said, i got this for you. it's a pink, silk, hand-painted scarf. the woman he had lunch was wearing a similar one in a different color. so he went to the store, and got this one, and before i could say anything, he says something that he knows it's close and dear to my heart, i got the guy at the store to give me a big discount. i stare into his head of beautiful curls and know this. this is a man who loves me, cares about me, thinks about me all the time, asks himself, does wify like this? does this look good on wify? just like that my whole being is infused with a gently sweetness while finally he he raises his head. i gaze into his goose-egged face and big eyes, feel this sweet relief as he hands a card and envelope to me and says, put this one into the plastic folder. and so i do.

of course this whole mishegas - o how i love this yiddish word. it sounds so much sweeter and more adorable than insanity, craziness, madness - won't end without his favorite activity. returning to knock feverishly on the door because, in his words, i forget one thing. usually this would happen two times at least. ultimately, finally, we kiss and i rub blessings over his head and then he's gone. no second return. what an improvement on his part. incremental is good.

six fifteen. a few moments earlier i hear my inner self say, i know what you want to ask, don't even think about it. i swallow the question. now i turn it into a prayer. may you catch the plane and if you don't it's just the way it is, not the end of the world. anyway, at six fifty, i call him. just to wish him a safe flight. he says, i'm on the bus to the airport. i couldn't help it anymore. i hear the words flow out. are you going to make it? he says, o, yeah. all right. we'll see.

seven twenty two. i think to myself, i'll call him. if he doesn't pick up the phone he's on the plane. o, no. he picks up. my heart skips a beat and sinks into the brief pause on the other end until he says, i'm on the plane and i met this multi-millionaire on the bus. what else can i say but, great, it's so great. indeed, in the end it's all great. i just have to keep remembering that in the roller coaster ride of the moment. having said that, whoa, it's a lot of hwubby to keep up with.

new year resolve. patience

i knew exactly what i really want to cultivate in this year when year end was approaching. patience. my guru says again and again, with patience you attain everything. yet, i dare say, this is the one thing that's been really dragging my feet in so many ways and i don't even recognize i am acting, thinking or speaking out of impatience until way after. i heard about patience of course. but when i was in twenties, patience sounded so...boring, dull, so...not exciting. well, equipped with spiritual awakening and eighteen years of spiritual practices i have come to have a whole new reverence and affection for patience. therefore i resolve this year to cultivate patience. i say to my inner self and the universal self, here i am, i am ready.

be careful of what i wish for. i might just get it. check this out. on the first day of new year my prayer is answered big time. i am presented with one opportunity after another just for that. here it's how the day goes. we are staying in sebastopol. i say, i want to go to torah study. hwubby says, sure, do you want to daven - praying in hebrew - with the rabbi? i say, of course. he says, sure. a little while later, he says, o, we'll leave at seven fifteen, we'll go to burlingame to pick up robin, she's in a retreat in the mercy center, we'll drop her off at the airport, the mercy center is just ten minutes from the airport. robin is a dear, dear friend and hwubby always wants to give a ride because he says, you know, you don't drive, many people give you ride, and that's a big help and comfort to me, so why don't i help someone when i can. it all sounds so sweet and wonderful that i think, suk wah, hold down your stingy, selfish self and keep your big, fat mouth shut.

the way it turns out, the morning goes like this. according to his plan we are supposed to leave by seven fifteen. by eight we start to load up the car and i don't want to count the amount of bags the bernsteins have when we go away for two nights. suffices to say he has brought a arts and crafts store along. once we are on the road we have to stop because we spot a bagel shop that is open on new year day morning. he says, i have to have my lox and bagel. fast forward. it's nine thirty. he is supposed to be at the mercy center at nine fifteen. we are, according to him, will be late, probably about half an hour. half an hour later. he calls the mercy center again and leaves a message for robin, saying that we'll be yet another ten to fifteen minutes late and if robin thinks she doesn't want to wait she should get a cab. in the end, that's what robin chooses to do. in hwubby's words, this is better because i don't want robin to get into a panic coming out of a silence retreat. all this while i focus attention and awareness on the sound and movement of the easy breath as much as i can.

a few hours later, at our house's front door. he can't find the house key. he says, i think i must have left it at the rabbi's house when i was repacking. i really want to ask him, why did you have to repack in the rabbi's house? i take a deep breath and zip the lips.

om namaah shivaaya. i have a full plate of spiritual work all set up.

residual tendency is like bamboo roots

my editor says, i want you to feel really, really free, you don't have to be clear, you will eventually get there. her words shine a light on another of my deep-rooted habitual tendency. fear of getting lost.

really. i thought i already got over that one. so it is very frustrating to realize that there are still remnants hanging around the mind. then a true experience comes to me. when we bought the house there were bamboos in the yard. we knew nothing about bamboos. it looked nice as it was. so we let it be. then, one day, after several years, i was alarmed to notice some bamboo shoots above ground across the pebble path separating the bamboo pad and the flower bed in the back center of the yard. hwubby immediately called his buddy whose wife owned a bamboo nursery. she said, this kind of bamboo have roots that run, literally. we had a barrier put in exactly according to her instructions. when it was all done she said, suk wah, there will still be bamboo shoots appearing above ground in the coming seasons. i said, what can i do to stop it? she said, keep your eyes open, nib them as soon as you catch them. i said, how long will it go on like that? she said, it's going to be a while. well, it's been another several years. i am still spotting bamboo tendrils.

why am i remembering this right now? aaaah. because deeply-rooted habits and patterns are like bamboo roots. i have worked to eliminate the bulk of it but remnants remain. the only way to take care of them is to be vigilant and nib them in the bud as soon as i am aware of them. what does 'nib them in the bud' mean? for me it is returning attention to the sound and movement of the easy breath. that is the sure and guaranteed way for me to reconnect with the inner self which is pure and free, the source of all creative sparks.

i was so disconnected from my own inner self.

in the torah joseph says to his brothers, all this are god's plan, even when you sold me into slavery. so my rabbi asks this of us. looking back what do you see in your life that while it was happening it was horrible but now you see you transformed because of it.

this is what comes to me. at one point i wanted to end my life. it seemed like the only way to end all that anguish, despair. looking back i can see that was when i began to consciously ask myself, what is this life about? who am i? surely i am not this body. i got this shocking revelation when i was preparing my sister's body for funeral. so what exactly am i? why am i unhappy all the time? why am i here anyway? now i know these are the classic questions that impel me to look for answers. all that i knew during that time was this. no material possession can give me lasting happiness. no earthly relationship can show me the real meaning of this life. nothing in this physical life tastes good anymore. not any amount of money can extinguish the unbearable agony that was burning me up inside. aaaah. i was so disconnected from my own inner self. i was out of touch with the state of blissful consciousness which is pure, unchanging and independent. all that despair and agony serve the purpose to set me on the path to reconnect with who and what i really am.

our inner selves are made of light

hwubby makes a video of me lighting the menorah on the eighth day of chanukkah.
 
http://gallery.me.com/egbdf/100000

he sends it to the family. his brother calls and leaves a msg. he and and his wife watch the video with their baby girl, meme. then meme starts to imitate me. i say, i want to see a video of that.

babies are pure lights. they are naturally drawn towards lights. but, really, that's what our inner selves do. our inner selves love to be around people who shine because lights are what our inner selves are made of. we are beings of light.

can i hold both in awareness?

my editor says, suk wah, you write so beautifully, i've never seen anyone writing about food as beautiful as you do, the metaphors, the way you write about it, are just...i can't write better than you do. sometimes a writer says to me, i write this way because it's my 'voice.' i would say, you don't have a 'voice.' anyway, my editor goes on to say, you write best when you just write, paragraph after paragraph, but you can't write forty pages of 'eating lox and bagels.' i really can't bring myself to say, one of the reasons i end up having forty pages of 'eating lox and bagels' is this. marquez writes eighty pages about a couple moving around each other in the night. well, all i can say is it is not working out for me. not yet. marquez is marquez. suk wah is suk wah. i have to deal with suk wah's reality as it is. don't compare, suk wah.

so, what's the point i am trying to get at? let me see. o yes. this morning, in meditation, it comes to me that i get lost, in a good way, when i just write and write. but then i lose the narrative, pacing, rhythm. i am very good at writing scenes, dialogues. i love it. i get so much joy doing it. but i want to get the book done in a proper way. so i have to be able to hold the scene and the story together in my awareness while dialogues and details are flowing out from the inner self. my editor says, can your mind work that way? right now, i don't know. not yet.