Seeing the Shadow by Dairyu Michael Wenger Sensei

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.—Marcel Proust You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.—Bob DylanThe film Groundhog Day demonstrates the wonder of living each moment as a totally new event. It follows a day in the life of weatherman Phil Connors, a sarcastic curmudgeon. He wakes upon the same day, Groundhog Day, again, and again, and again. His namesake, Phil the groundhog (himself a weatherman), sees his shadow, is frightened and goes back into his burrow, thus predicating six more weeks of Winter. Phil Connors is frustrated by living the same day over and over again. He wants to get somewhere else, find new circumstances, he tries to escape each day with the scenarios of his life. He pursues sex, but after a while it is a dead end. Crime is exciting but becomes tiresome. Drinking, therapy, suicide, finding a love relationship, all are explored. The habits and shadows of his life are found wanting.

Each action has consequences. This is the law of karma: he has a choice, but each choice leads to a new reality. Perhaps the turning point of the movie is when he tries to save a homeless man day after day after day, and, no matter what he does, the man dies. He really wants something and is powerless to insure its happening. We have freedom, but within limits. This is "samsara" in Buddhism, the cycle of becoming driven by our karmic intentional activity. We have desires and wants but we may never reach them. Eventually, through many days [lifetimes] he chooses a life of service, works through his demons, and breaks the cycle of Groundhog Day.Each moment becomes a new opportunity, so the same situation is brand new and his unique response leads to a unique result. If we recognize what is driving us, and clarify our true intention, the unexamined shadows are no longer about some solely external reality or objective weather, but about us. Each moment is a new beginning. Our projections and stance in the world can cast a long shadow on our lives, and the Spring of each moment is postponed for a long Winter. If you examine and test your perceptions, each moment brings forth a new world. If we lead an unexamined life, we feel each day is different, but it is really a rerun of our habits. If we examine a disciplined life closely, each instant can blossom into a unique flower. This film parallels Buddhist practice. In a training temple, the wake-up bell rings the same time every day. You go to the same place, wear the same clothes, and follow the same routine, and yet each moment is unique. Not distracted by your desire for changed conditions, you can live each moment not knowing what it will bring, seeing the familiar landscape with new eyes. Phil Connors in the end "wins the girl." He gives up trying to possess her, so that true intimacy, true participation, can occur. Affecting and being affected by each other and each thing is the true interpenetration of self and other. The cycle of samara is broken, his shadows are seen through, and each moment blossoms. As in the tenth ox-herding picture, Phil Connors comes out of his burrow to the market place with gift bestowing hands. He sees the shadow of his reflections and bows to it, as it must to him.

Poem #4

There's a brief magical time
when I lie in bed
cuddling my warm lap top.

The sleeping pill starts its lull-a-bye
pulling me to the soft spot
Where consciousness, sub-consciousness,
and unconsciousness meet.

I write, and post, and chat.
My thumbs dash off misspelled texts,
I blog and my thoughts mingle
With Queen Mab as my editor.

In the morning, I awake.
Cookie boxes, water bottles and socks
Amid books, papers and dreams.

I open my laptop and begin
To retrace my dreams and ego droppings
Left under a URL pillow.

So Screwed

Co-dependence makes sense.

It came as a shock to me when my therapist told me I was co-dependent. Even after she told me and I skimmed a few books, I didn't get it. I remember asking people, "How is being a good, loyal wife any different than being co-dependent?"

I stick. I put on a smile, take a Xanax, and stick. I try like a saint to fix it and endure...both of my chief ingredients in my formula to a happy marriage. After 10 years of a pleasant marriage, my husband became a gambler and a verbally abusive alcoholic. He had always lied so that wasn't new. For the next 5 years, he ruined us financially, insulted and degraded me, and terrified our children. Finally, I  left with my girls after another especially rugged five years of rabbit punches to my sanity. And then, after months of arrests, frauds, and vulgar voice mails, he joins AA and gets better.

Now he wants to make it up to me and make amends. He is better than he has ever been. Kind, thoughtful, loving, reflective, and sober.

However, this one fact is impaled in the back of my mind and I cannot extricate it: He was bad when I was there, and he got better when I was gone.

Oh, yeah, co-dependence is a mother-fucker.

Negative Space

Snowflakes drift solidly down landing on endless snowbanks
At first standing out unique but eventually relenting
And becoming part of the mass of absorbed flakes.

Birds light together but separate,
Scattered at first, they come together as a flock
Silently turning, thinking, flying as one.

A winter-bare tree explodes into bud every Spring.
Without a sigh, thousands of vibrant green leaves
Fight their way from tight-fisted coccoons.

An old woman falling a sleep forever,
The electric quiet before the bell,
A drifting petal, the rings on a pond,
A lover's kiss.
These are the sounds that ring in my ear.

Ambien Ramblings

I "was over served" the other night (that ubiquitous term for being embarrassingly drunk in public). So sitting at the bar I started bragging to my two new best friends about how much I love valium and xanax. I even gave them a couple from my purse, which they snatched up more quickly than dirty bath water goes down the drain. Then they warned me to be careful. I wasn't doing anything illegal. But the bartender came over and told me to change my conversation or I would have to go. I sky rocketed from drunken cockiness to drunken indignation, and trust me there is no indignation like that of an indignant drunk. I left and got driven home.

Flash forward two months. Having a cup of tea in a restaurant bar waiting for my girls' matinee to end. They have Fuel TV on all their big screens. A blindfolded man is unknowingly licking the asshole of another man. This is supposedly hilarious to the panel. At lunch yesterday, at a local Mexican restaurant, Fuel TV is playing on all TVs except one. They are having excerpts on this day from girl on girl sex from the Playboy channel.

Hmmm? Just saying.

Poem #2

Is there a dress out there for me to buy?
That clings and swirls and makes me young again,
One I will wear to give it one more try
To attract a glance, a smile and a man.

Are there arms out there to hold me softly?
Bringing me close and holding me tight.
Strong arms that make me small but safe to be
There with a man who understands the night.

Are there lips out there to kiss me once more?
To focus the warmth, mingle my breath,
Falling into a cherry sweet embrace,
Whiskers scratching cheeks across and in depth

Is there another man out there for me?
To love and protect me and keep me safe,
Who won't lie and yell and forget to be
A man who will honor me all in good faith.

Forgiveness

Harry has been sober now for 86 days...85, I guess, since today is just beginning. It is wonderful to see him going back to the man I loved. He is anxious to get me back with all my bells and whistles: daughters, support, intimacy, and friendship...plus I am a damn good cook.

That's not easy. He has lied to me for such a long time. That, more than the verbal abuse and neglect, hurts. And I can't wash away the shame and anger as easily as I should. Or shouldn't I? Many of his new friends guarantee that we will know a greater level of intimacy and love if we come back to one another. They also say that he will be successful once again if he just doesn't drink. I cannot lie: I have a lot of fear.

I stubbornly hold on to my marriage. Why?

"I've looked at love from both sides now,
From give and take and still somehow,
It's love's illusions I recall.
I really don't know love at all."
-Joanie Mitchell