Some More Thoughts on Friendship

(Before I continue, I would like to point out that it is winter in Johannesburg and today's temperature is 21 degrees Celsius. It is summer in the UK and the temperature recorded in Oakham today is 15 degrees Celsius. That is all.)

After reading a post on Teri's Blog, I found myself returning to the topic of friendship. I remember also reading something by Geneen Roth (again) that reiterated my own feelings that if you are in a friendship and you feel diminished in some way, you need to change it.

I have figured that I have allowed some people to use me as a way to make themselves feel better about who they are. This has really niggled me, particularly due to an incident over the weekend, when I realised that I had allowed myself to be used in this way by someone in particular.

It dawned on me that I didn't want to be judged and found wanting by someone who called herself a friend. I clearly didn't meet her standards or criteria for perfect and she belittled me for it. It was also made clear that if someone is constantly 'testing' your friendship, to see how true a friend you are to them, they are no way a friend to you.

How did friendships become so complicated? Manipulators and energy vampires are everywhere. I've managed to deal with my own negative compulsions that would ordinarily attract people like this, however I find that I am still being hurt by some people I really thought I could trust and rely on.

One of my favourite sayings is that if you want to change your circumstances, you have to change yourself. And maybe that's just it. I HAVE changed myself and become more positive. I am no longer willing to indulge in a feel sorry for myself fest. I am not willing to submit to someone else's negativity. And perhaps some people feel threatened by that.

How do you spot someone's true colours? How do you know when to stay and when to walk away?

Blink and You'll Miss It...

So where's summer then? The BBC website is most useful for weather news for the coming week in my part of the UK. Hardly any sun and temperatures below 20 Celsius. Late May frost is predicted for tonight.

Luce and Tink have been huddled on a blanket indoors all weekend. (Well, maybe Luce doesn't count because he is only being allowed out tomorrow after his excursion to Peterborough.) Mischa and Noodle are out chasing things. I know where I would be given the choice!

And speaking of Luce, I think he got off lightly. Check this out.

Brrrr. Pass the hot chocolate, I am heading off to hibernate. Wake me up when summer starts.

A Discourse on Karma and the Universal Significance of Socks

I spent most of this morning not feeling particularly strong. I felt like a loser. This whole transforming one's karma has got me befuddled. I've just read an inspiring entry on Buddhist Simon's blog. (I read the blogs of two Simons - it gets confusing. Especially since they BOTH love the colour purple.) He spoke about fear and how it's important to live in the moment.

I had an email exchange with him as well this morning and it became clear to me that I am actually afraid to transform my karma because I do not want things to get worse before they get better.

This fear is stupid. It's based on a fear that I might end up losing my mind again and having to go through Hell. But of course, with this fear in place, I am already in Hell. By allowing this fear to stop me from transforming my karma, I become paralysed.

So... how do I take the things that I feel are negative that happen to me and turn them around and use them to forge my own strength? An important thing for me to remember is that I was able to recognise the familiar turns of phrase and emotions that would ordinarily send me sliding straight down the shoot into a steaming pile of victimhood. This one thing, in itself, bears witness that I am well and truly in the process of changing my karma.

The biggest gift? A change in perception. The ability to remove the negative tinted shades and replace them with clear, compassionate glasses. It really is all about perception. Even Don Miguel Ruiz refers to this and brings awareness to how we use our words and thoughts against ourselves.

In a letter called 'On Attaining Buddhahood', Nichiren Daishonin writes: "If the minds of living beings are impure, their land is also impure, but if their minds are pure, so is their land. There are not two lands, pure or impure in themselves. The difference lies solely in the good or evil of our minds."

So really - it's just the way you see things.

Which brings us to the universal significance of socks: socks are the universe's way of reminding us not to take ourselves too seriously. No. Really. Have you seen how ridiculous a sock looks? Next time you take yourself too seriously - where some funky outlandish socks as a reminder that not everything is a disaster waiting to happen to you.

Today: A Meme.

This comes from Chris. You've got to choose 10 words with a letter given to you by the person who had the meme before you. I am not continuing the meme, but here are my 10 words.

Extraordinary - what a weird word this is. It means 'exceptional', yet if you break it down you get "extra ordinary". That doesn't say exceptional to me.

Ecstacy - as in ecstatically joyful and the OMG-oh-yeah-baby-earth-moving kind of way. I like to do both. Often.

Endorphins - happy hormones

Elephant - a large animal found in India and Africa and zoos the world over. I hate zoos.

Elves - members of the faere folk who dance in the garden

Experience - the greatest teacher

Equilibrium - balance. A good place to be.

Ergo - a fancy word meaning 'therefore'

Erotic - with a feather, not the chicken

Explore - as my dad says, explore everything and keep only what's good.

RANDOM BLOGGERY

Happy Monday! A new week begins and I thought it may cheer most of us up if I posted a picture of pussy on my blog. The cat in question is Madame Tinkie. Mischa, Lucifer and Little Miss Tinkles over here are nice and snug indoors while Noodle roams the neighbourhood. Right now, it's pelting down with rain and the weather is being typically English.

I have stolen this off Sibri's Buddhist blog. It's Daisaku Ikeda's guidance for today and I thought I should share:

"We need to cultivate a state of life where we can thoroughly enjoy ourselves at all times. We should have such joy that even at the time of death we can declare with a happy smile: "That was wonderful! Where shall I go next?" This is the state of mind of a person with strong faith. Such individuals will be reborn without delay and in a form and in a place exactly according with their desires. Faith enables us to attain the kind of generous and all-embracing state of mind where we can enjoy everything in our lives."

Nice, huh?

When I went through a serious depressive episode about two years ago, that kind of thing seemed impossible to me. How could I be happy with my life? How can I enjoy my life? My life was miserable!

Thankfully, with the right kind of help and support I can read that and nod my head sagely and say, "Yeah. I can dig that."

Geneen Roth in her book "When You Eat At The Refrigerator, Pull Up a Chair" warns of what she calls "Fat and Ugly Attacks" that make you feel really rubbish. She also advises that when you feel really rubbish - fat and ugly and whatever else - try to look at a rose. Or imagine one. The rose doesn't think you're fat/ugly/rubbish/whatnot. In fact, no one is telling the rose that it's ugly. It just is. Perfect. Beautiful. Lovely. So are we. All.

I reckon that's what my weight problem is about. It's nothing to do with how large I am. I was a size 12 and I still felt fat. It's not about weight. It's about not loving and respecting myself JUST AS I AM. I don't need false boobs or a tiny waist or a huge pay packet to feel good about who I am. I just need to feel good about who I am and all the rest will fall in place. (Buddhists, in other words, I need to honour my Buddhahood.)

This weekend that's precisely what has become apparent to me. That there is nothing that I need to change about my appearance. I am lovely.

So why bother, then, with losing weight?

Simple: I have developed a massive amount of respect for this body. Respecting my body means providing it with the nourishment that will enable it to perform to optimum ability. A diet of crisps, soda and chocolates will not achieve this. I am not depriving myself or going on a crash diet. I am celebrating and honouring what is the most unexpectedly beautiful gifts ever handed to me by the universe: this body.

The Fat Lady

Something extraordinary happened last night.

I went along to an aqua-aerobics class with a lady from work and thoroughly enjoyed myself. No, no, no - me going to an exercise class is not the something extraordinary, though it does come close. The enjoyment side of it isn't the extraordinary bit either. Nope.

It was this:

At the end of the class we got to stretch out and float on our fronts then on our backs and this amazing feeling came over me. You remember when you're a kid and you just figured out you could do something? Remember that sense of fun and excitement with trying something new? That's what I felt. Exactlly as I remember it as a child. That feeling I got when I first learned to swim. That whole "I am proud and special" feeling. That notion that I am perfect as I am that existed long before anyone wanted to change me.

I revelled in it. I basked. I glowed.

I was suddenly reconnected with myself. With me before the domestication and schooling. The true essence of Tanya. Pure, undistilled, undiluted ME.

I wish I knew how to reach that place again or to show others to be there. I wish I could show them a picture of that emotion. What an awesome place to be! That's the spark I have been searching for so long - that thrill of just being alive and learning and playing and breathing and loving. BEING.

Suddenly there were no borders or limitations - just possibilities. It didn't matter that I felt like The Fat Lady when I got into the pool. It didn't matter that I had said nasty things to myself about my weight or anything else.

For those few moments, the only thing that mattered, was the sheer joy at being alive.

Recommendations (in movements of 4)

I recommend the following:

Books

1. We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
2. The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz
3. The Mastery of Love by Don Miguel Ruiz
4. Stiff by Mary Roach

Movies

1. The Matrix
2. The Shawshank Redemption
3. Frida
4. Brokeback Mountain

Blogs

1. Miss Snark - A Literary Agent
2. The Fake Doctor
3. Spontaneous Fiction
4. PurpleSimon's Fiction

Places

1. Venice
2. Amsterdam
3. Tsitsikamma
4. Dublin

Random Things

1. Skinny dipping
2. Standing naked in the moonlight
3. Cats
4. Loving yourself

WE HAVE FOUND LUCIFER!!

I have just spoken to a vet in a city 22 miles from where I live. They have Lucifer.

How he got to Peterborough, I will never know, but a lady in that city found him wandering round her house. She took him in and then decided to have him spayed. (Yes, spayed - she thought he was female.) After spending his time on the operating table, the vet discovered he was male. Checking with the lady, she discovered that she had only had the cat 3 weeks and that she had found him.

The vet asked if she would mind if she checked for a microchip. The lady agreed and voila! It's LUCIFER!

I am so happy!! I am leaving work early and I am off to Peterborough to collect Luce tonight!!!

HOORAY!!!

Thanks to all of you who offered your prayers and chanting - especially you, Chris.

I Miss.... Everyone....

I got onto the train to Leicester yesterday for my first OU tutorial and a group of Morris Dancers got onto the train with me - fully decked out, bells jingling, flowers in their hats. I have nothing against Morris Dancers and I am yet to find out why English people regard them with a degree of contempt.

I worked with a guy once who told me that his dad offered him some sage advice on his 21st birthday and it was this: "Son, do not try Morris Dancing or sodomy."

Seems a bit random to me, but it did make me wonder what was wrong with the much maligned Morris Dancers.

The tutorial went quite well, I must say. I realised that I wasn't as stupid as I thought I was, which is a very good thing. Or at least, it's a step in the right direction.

I feel incredibly lonely today. Kate is down in London, working her rather sexy little butt off and will be going off on a little four-day holiday tomorrow with a friend. That means I don't get to see her until 24 May.

I have just been checking my email and Dori has sent me some of the photos from her wedding celebrations and the sense of disconnectedness I have been trying to stave off has stung me really hard. I miss EVERYONE.

I have missed weddings and new babies. I have not been there to be the proverbial shoulder to cry on. I've missed Champagne cocktails and birthday celebrations. I have missed every single one of my friends in South Africa.

This incredibly deep sense of longing was triggered by the arrival of the photos in my inbox and a desire to hook up with a friend for coffee today. The realisation that anyone I would prefer to be sharing my company with today is in South Africa has only served to highlight my loneliness overall. It is now hovering over my head shining like a neon sign.

This, I suppose, has absolutely nothing to do with Morris dancing.

I have been reading Simon's blog today and have been engaged in a deep philosophical email discussion with him as well. He touched on a subject that I have been pondering for some time ie does the mind survive after death?

In Nichiren Buddhism, it is believed that we return to a state of resting - a bit like sleep - before we turn up in another life. Effectively, you're taken off line and hang around in a latent state until the right circumstances arise to call you back into the world. (This is often likened to a tree, barren in the winter. We know that the tree can bear fruit, but we do not see fruit in the winter. In summer, the right circumstances appear - sun, water, warmth - and flowers then fruit appear. The tree in the winter is in a 'waiting' or latent state. Hope that makes sense.)

So our life-force returns to this cosmic soup of latent state. Does our mind come with?
This question implies the assumption that the mind is the self and everything that makes us... well... us. So, really, you should begin with the question, "What is the mind?"

There are theories that mind is a purely organic construct created by our brains and neural pathways that we create. The more we use certain pathways, the stronger the neural connections. Pathways not used eventually die away. So, if I use my mind for logical thinking, these pathways will be stronger, while perhaps my creative pathways would be weaker. I would be referred to as someone practical, logical. But is that really my true potential or simply a circumstance of biology? Would I be different if I integrated more of my creative pathways? What if an area of my brain is affected by disease or damage and not functioning?

If the mind survives death and it is the self, then we would be the same person in each incarnation, yet we are not. Minds are shaped by experiences, upbringing, biology.
I prefer to use the term lifeforce when referring to that part of me that will survive organic death. I will return to the great cosmic soup and wait. What intrigues me is the theory that we are all one, that only our physical bodies reinforce the illusion that we are individuals and that there is something far more vast than that.While stewing in this vat of cosmic energy, perhaps life forces move and mix and rub off on each other.

So am I the product of a mix of energy? That perhaps a bit of what was you was blended with a bit of what was me whilst we lay dormant? This would imply that I am not ME but US.

Ponderous man... REAL ponderous...

Your thoughts?

Here's a morbid little exercise for you:

Visit THIS LINK and calculate how old you'll be when you die. I will be 78. Leave your death age in my comment thingy.

The Common Wood Pigeon (Columba palumbus) aka Torturer of Cat

The common wood pigeon (Columba palumbus), is meant to be a docile, timid creature, unlike the common house cat (Felix domesticus), which is bold and quirky with a strong murderous streak. With odds like these, one would expect that Common Wood Pigeon is most likely to find itself served as pigeon souffle for Common House Cat. Unless, of course, Common House Cat is Noodle and Common Wood Pigeon is the great big creature that delights in tormenting her. For purposes of identification, I have decided to name Common Wood Pigeon, Jack.

Noodle, a member of a secret society of feline ninjas, takes great pleasure in dragging a variety of small animals in to our home in various states of life - and death. (See ......). Not being a particularly large cat, Noodle brings in nothing bigger than a blackbird. (Unlike her sister Mischa who has once brought home - and devoured - a small gray baby rabbit). The wood pigeon - Jack - is probably the same size as Noodle.

For the past few weeks, wherever Noodle has been in the garden, this pigeon would turn up to plague her. It sits on the telephone wires and coos down to her. It lights on a tree or the shed roof. It perches on our house or the neighbour's. Each time, it bobs its little head, calls to Noodle and waits for her. Once she notices the bird, she goes into stalking mode or "I really wanna kill that thing" mode. Her tail twitches, ears go back and she makes strange mewling noises. Her whole body shakes. All the while her attention is on this wood pigeon. Every time she gets near it, it takes off, lighting on a branch marfinally further away or flying to another roof...

Recently, things have taken a more sinister turn, with Jack appearing in the llama field behind our house. We noticed this when Noodle sat transfixed at the llama window, body shaking and mewling. Inspection revealed Jack, about two feet from the window, walking casually up and down, head bobbing as he went.

This has clearly caused much distress to Noodle. She dreams of catching wood pigoens - her body twitches, whiskers bristling and paws grab air.

Kate and I will not be at all surprised to return home one day to find Jack's corpse presented for us on the living room floor.

Got to love cats, eh?

Nah - It's Not the Way I Would Want to Go

I had a conversation with my mate Ralphie while I was in South Africa. About death. What would be better: if you found out someone had died suddenly or someone had died after a long illness?

I chose long, slow illness. Ralphie went with the sudden sort. We resumed the conversation over email and Ralphie explained that at least you get a chance to say goodbye to someone with the long, slow kind, but you don't have that opportunity with the sudden kind.

My mom died suddenly in November 2001. Heart attack. My father's illness has been killing him for the last 18 years. Emphysema.

Yeah - I was cheated out of patching things up with my mother when she died, but that's not half as bad as watching someone you love dying. What's more, he knows he's dying and this is causing him enormous distress.

My dad was admitted to hospital again recently and he's got a shrink looking in on him. Why?
Because on admission into the hospital he was shouting "I don't want to die!"

He is lonely, depressed and missing my mother and I am not sure how I can help him to create value with each day he has left. There is a massive limit to what he can do due to his illness and he's not been able to spend time working in his beloved garden.

And here I am feeling tremendously helpless.

I told a friend in an email today that I was accepting that this is his karma and witnessing this is mine blahblahblah... but I tell you what, sometimes I don't want to try to see things with my Buddha eye. I WANT to scream and shout and cry and tear down the walls and proclaim that THIS JUST ISN'T FAIR! Nichiren Buddhist believe that the manner in which you die reflects the way in which you have lived and in the next life, the manner in which you are born reflects the manner in which you died in your previous life.

You know... fuck that for a few moments. THIS JUST ISN'T FAIR!!! It sucks and it hurts to see him suffer. And yeah I am angry that for the best part of 30 years he smoked 60 cigarettes a day. Yeah, I am angry for the remaining 20 he smoked 30 a day. Yeah I am angry he quit and started again. And fucking yeah, I am angry that I am not there, that I can't do anything and that I cannot make things better. I am angry too that my life is here in the UK and I so not want to uproot that life to go back to SA permanently. I don't want my dad to be sick. I don't want my dad to die.

Tell you what, though: slow and painful is not the way I want to go. And I have been thinking about creating a living will even though they are not enforceable in the UK at present.

I realise how painful it must be for my dad too. No. This isn't fair. This sucks and it's hard and it's agonising. How do you create value out of that?