Create/Awaken


It was hard to hold the incongruity of setting off on a beautiful morning to go to a child’s birthday at the Zoo, followed by a leisurely walk to Dupont Circle to get a haircut, with the news of devastation from too many places at once and my concern for friends and acquaintances and their families and for those who will be impacted the most severely.
The Zoo is doing a good job educating about animals that are threatened with extinction, how human civilization is contributing, and how we can shift behavior to co-habit more gracefully with other species, which made visiting the Zoo less unequivocally uncomfortable.
I got to the Zoo early, so I could walk around. I went into the great ape house for the first time in a decade, possibly two. One of the apes had figured out that if he leapt at the dividing glass with a thump, the humans right on the other side would squeal and jump. One little boy stood still, calmly holding his hand, with fingers spread open, on the glass, reaching and waiting to see.

There were two bald eagles that had damaged wings. There was no roof over their space. They seemed happy enough to be in a place with excellent, regular meals.
I was having an anxiety provoking type of morning. When I walked out to address one of the things that needed to be addressed, the trees reminded me to pay attention to beauty, while I was doing what needs to be done.

I was staying at a retreat center in Peru on 9/11. I was not with anyone else from the United States. I remember at the first meal after the planes hit, another guest suggesting that the United States deserved it. I also remember the brief moment of gathering sympathy that, as a country, we threw away with the aggressive response.
The best thing about the retreat center was that instead of tea bags, every morning there were fresh herbs from the garden for tea. I continue to make my tea that way as much of the year as the garden is able.


Samsara and effulgence.
