Saturday, January 02, 2016

THE FIRST NEW DAY

'Tis actually the second day of the new year, though it feels more like the first, and, more accurately, feels for some reason as if it should be a new century.  So much has changed this past month, with terrorists having become more explosive in really stupid ways, not that there could be something like a smart terrorist-- but in a manner that seemed as mindless as heartless.  The moronic, crazy woman who went to San Bernardino-- again, Huh? why there, of all places nobody knew was even there-- to get married, pregnant and kill people-- and their neighbor who linked up so he could help them be destructive-- I don't get any of it, but then I don't think they did either.  It just seems to me that almost everyone in the news is not so much news as truly pointless, in their own lives as well as the ones they're wrecking or ending. 
     I am particularly lucky because I have been everywhere I wanted to go except Barcelona, and as noted, Sondheim has already written that song.  So I have nowhere to be besides Here, and that is something I studied with Jack Kornfield how to be, and a finer teacher never lived and I still have trouble with that. 
      Had a celebratory lunch with the wonderful Ellen who still does everything mostly for other people, making her truly unique in Beverly Hills.  We went to Kanter's, the genuine delicatessen even though it is in LA with a soul that is basically New York's.  There was a ten-day-old or maybe not even, peaceful and asleep in a carrier having made it beautifully through her trip here, which was not easy, certainly not for the mother, who, like most of us who'd determined not to have drugs asked for them.  It is probably one of the big questions I have for God, if I ever meet up with Her/Him, why it's such a tough trip for the mother, giving birth.  I imagine the answer might be, because then what comes afterwards might not seem so painful, and you can really appreciate the good stuff, if you're lucky enough to get some.
     So I wish everyone except Donald Trump a great year ahead, peace-filled and triumphant in spirit, with a personal quest they can fulfill.  I would be sad for our country, having gotten so silly, were it not for the wondrous fact that we are still here, so anything is possible.  I have a glorious photo in front of me on my desk of autumn leaves behind the bridge in Central Park with the San Remo in the background that never looks like that when I am there, seeking out that view.  
    I mean the whole lesson of Jack and everybody else who knows what they are talking about in as few words as possible is to be fully present.  I think the baby in the carrier chair on the floor of the deli was aware of that, and doing her practice.