Boat Across the River
Just another WordPress.com weblogArchive for Books
A Luxurious Lunch
It’s funny to be out by yourself when you are used to having children with you. I went to lunch all by myself today; I brought a book which I pretended to read as I ate my food. There were several nice things about this lunch. First, I ate my food slowly. Very slowly. I chewed slowly, I drank coffee slowly, I paid the tab slowly. I can’t believe how great it felt not to be in a rush. Secondly, I did not have to speak to anyone. I had temporarily forgotten what silence feels like. It was so restful not to have to come up with something to say. It actually felt more restful being in a room full of loud people and children than if I was alone. All the little crises people were having with the children: not my problem. It was freeing to be around these things because I could repeatedly tell myself that I had no responsibilities here. And it was relaxing for me to overhear other people’s conversations — all the contrivances, small competitions, turns of phrase, and emoting that goes on. None of it was my problem or my wasted energy.
Trash on the Beach…
Again, I was sent into a tailspin of despair after eating at a restaurant that uses only disposable plastic cups. After I asked the server if they recycle, she first said yes. Then she seemed confused and changed her answer to, “Well, no…We just throw them all away.” How hard would it be? For just one person working at every restaurant to care enough to collect recyclables in a trash can?
Every time I go on vacation, I have to come to a resolution about where the trash goes. Will it go in a landfill? Will it go in an incinerator? I’ve convinced myself that an incinerator is preferable. At home, I’ve made my peace with the impact I have on Earth. I know exactly where my trash is going. I’ve limited my consumption both in terms of the amount of things that I buy and also what it is that I buy. And I’ve come to terms with what I do and don’t control.
When I go on vacation, I go into this tailspin that I mentioned. I worry about everything from the unnecessary bags that Subway puts every sandwich into, to my child’s diapers, to other people’s trash that I see left on the beach, or even in trash cans. Where will all this trash go? I watch the dolphins swimming nearby and whisper my apologies. At least once an hour, I have to remind myself of what I actually have the power to control.
(P.S. I am very excited to read the new book coming out on this topic, called Garbology!)
Current Religious Obsessings…
Right now, I don’t believe there is ANY reason or any karma or any point to senseless suffering. I do believe in ”God,” whatever that word means! But I’ve come to believe that there is no religion that completely “captures” what God is. I don’t think that words can explain what God is. I think that people are afraid of saying they don’t know why something is how it is, so they cling desperately to doctrine and dogma. But for me, God shines through all this religion. For me, God and religion are oftentimes separate things.
I do not believe that we have to believe something to be with God when we die…I’m not trying to save you because I don’t believe people need “saving” in that religious sense of the word. For heaven’s sake! I think people are supposed to be responsible for each other. This is one of my grandfather’s “isms”. Surprisingly, he and I seem to share many ”religious” beliefs. I think that we can find God by being there for each other. My words are falling short, as they must in this regard, but I want you to know I deeply believe (after much research on death, dying, near death experiences, out of body experiences, and any other related books I have been able to get my hands on) that there is something more that happens after “death”. One of my favorite reads was a book by a former Harvard (Yale? I forget) prof. called The Afterlife Experiments. And also from this cumulative research I’ve come to think that people don’t have to believe a certain creed to be re-united with their loved ones after death…
I think, as my sometimes-wise grandfather says, that “I don’t know” is the best answer of all.
Here If You Need Me
Just finished reading a wonderful book called Here if You Need Me by Kate Braestrup. She is a chaplain for the Maine Warden Service, as well as a widow whose police officer husband was killed in a car accident. She is also a wonderful writer. I wanted to share one of many well crafted passages from the book — this is my favorite:
How can any of us know when enough [grieving] is enough? Someday, the last stone must be placed [on the grave] and we must walk away, but when? I think if I were my own minister, I would answer that question this way, and I won’t pretend it isn’t hard:
Go ahead. Arrange and rearrange the stones on top of your beloved’s grave. Keep arranging those stones for as long as it hurts to do it, then stop, just before you really want to.
Put the last stone on and walk away.
Then light your candles to the living. Say your prayers for the living. Give your flowers to the living. Leave the stones where they are, but take your heart with you. Your heart is not a stone. True love demands that, like a bride with her bouquet, you toss your fragile heart into the waiting crowd of living hands and trust that they will catch it.
I would imagine this book would be a wonderful read for anyone mourning a loved one.
Poet of the Marshes
“As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod,
Behold I will build me a nest on the greatness of God.”
– Sidney Lanier from The Marshes of Glynn as compiled in Sidney Lanier: Poet of the Marshes Visits Cedar Key, 1875 by Charles C. Fishburne, Jr.
Attraversiamo: “Let’s Cross Over”
On August 21st, I got halfway through Eat, Pray, Love – the movie — before receiving a phone call from my dad to tell us that my grandmother had passed on, or as I like to say (having picked it up from John Edward) crossed over. I noticed after Thanksgiving dinner yesterday that it was available to buy on demand (pay-per-view) so I decided to finish the rest of the story, in memory of Grandma, on a day that we were all really missing her. She really did it up on Thanksgiving (and Christmas)…I know the holidays are always especially poignant when you have lost someone you love. It really was so different without her…change like that is hard for me. I was not in the best mood about all the differences, but I guess there’s no point in trying to re-create traditions when it’s not like that would bring her back.
Anyway, it felt very circular and nice to complete the movie on Thanksgiving Day, almost exactly three months after her death. It felt like a rite of passage for me – especially after 1) my own bizarre experience/ choices in Bali 2) the Thanksgiving scene in the movie, and 3) hearing Liz Gilbert’s words through Julia Roberts at the end, just before she says “attraversiamo” and decides to get in the boat with Javier Bardem:
“I’ve come to believe that there exists in the universe something I call “The Physics of The Quest” – a force of nature governed by laws as real as the laws of gravity or momentum. And the rule of Quest Physics maybe goes like this: If you are brave enough to leave behind everything familiar and comforting (which can be anything from your house to your bitter old resentments) and set out on a truth-seeking journey (either externally or internally), and if you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue, and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher, and if you are prepared – most of all – to face (and forgive) some very difficult realities about yourself…then truth will not be withheld from you.”
Once again, things feel like they are overlapping, crossing over even — that there really are “clues” pointing us toward truth. I thought that I chose the name for my blog because of a Buddhist story I had heard, but now I think Gilbert’s lines must have buried in my subconscious or something because the boat/journey symbolism hit me hard again. I actually can’t remember when I read the book, if it was before or after I started my blog…it doesn’t really matter either way! Just interesting for me to re-think.
Visions, Trips, and Crowded Rooms
Just finished up a short non-fiction read by David Kessler, which is all about deathbed visions. I have read a fair amount about Near Death Experiences, but had never read about the visions of those who did not come back to say what they saw as they were moving on from this life. I was unimpressed with Kessler’s writing per se, but most of the book was not actually written by him. The book was primarily a collection of stories/observations from health-care professionals, family members, and others who were with people at their times of death. So, while I am not a huge fan of Kessler’s writing, I appreciate the trouble he takes to collect, organize, and edit the many fascinating stories in this book. Some of these stories are very dramatic. I especially enjoyed his chapters that deal with deathbed visions pertaining to trips/journeys and visions of rooms crowded with “deceased” family and friends. I enjoyed Kessler’s assertion that, in fact, no one is ever alone when s/he dies.
Ironically, I also watched Clint Eastwood’s new movie today which is called Hereafter. As I was reading Kessler’s book, before I went to the movie, the thought occured to me that I spend too much time thinking about what happens when we die. Near the beginning of the movie, the lines that jumped out at me were spoken by Matt Damon’s character, who is a psychic medium. In justifying why he no longer works professionally as a psychic, he says something like, “I decided that a life focused on death is no kind of life.”
I feel like I need to have a good understanding of death in order to get the most out of my life…and I feel like I’m starting to get somewhere in that regard — not that I think I actually know what happens, but that I am becoming content with what I feel like I do know! Therefore, I think soon, I need to start being careful about how much energy I spend focused on this kind of stuff.
The Swan Thieves
A close friend recently gave me an autographed copy of a book called The Swan Thieves, by author Elizabeth Kostova. I am here to review said book! I found 80% of the book wonderful, 15% absolutely brilliant, and 5% anti-climactic. The end. Just kidding — there’s more.
I read this book obsessively, reminding myself of one of the central characters of the book, painter Robert Oliver. My friend told me in a wonderful compliment that one of the characters reminded her of me, but I still don’t know which one! Oliver, however, is the one who reminds me of me. I would stay up late reading, scheme for undiscovered moments of the day to read, and tease out time I didn’t really have for this book.
I know nothing about the author, but if I had to guess I would say she (1) has a daughter and that (2) her mother (if not her father as well) is deceased. Each character of the book ends up feeling like one of several personalities inside the same person’s mind, which in a sense they are, as are all characters belonging to any given author. These familial themes seem to arise strongly in each of her character’s lives, and Kostova writes about these relationships very, very well. She handles equally well the themes of “loss” and of “learning to respect the past while living in the present”. I think one of the messages we glean is that it is unhealthy to dwell in the past, fascinating as it may be, and that somehow we have to find a way to move on with life.
A couple of the things I did not like were: another of the central character’s name, and the last two pages of the book. I realize I’m being picky, but all I’m saying is that the book was just shy of perfect. I would highly recommend The Swan Thieves – a wonderful read.
John 5:19
I’m reading through the Book of John and seeing what I can understand or agree with. In this verse, I hear Jesus saying that he can do nothing without God. I understand this to mean that Jesus has blended himself into God, that he’s one with God, and that he does not exist outside of God.
But that God does exist outside of Jesus.
Connected to this concept is the line from John 14:28 in which Jesus states that, “…the Father is greater than I.”
Little Flower
Came across this nice little poem in the book my daughter picked out for her nap this afternoon:
All are nothing but flowers
in a flowering universe.
– Nakagawa Soen-roshi, Zen Buddhist
I might never have read these words in the giant pile of her books if she had not brought the book over to me to read. That’s one great thing about kids: they are one of those “things” that help you see the world as if it is once again new. Chasing them all over creation, you discover corners in your own home you didn’t know existed. Kids, even the ones we aren’t raising!, open the world up for us, one petal at a time.
