Friday, May 31, 2013

A Buddhist Perspective on Life and Death.


Some peregrine falcons have made the roof of my advertising agency their new home. 
Along with their cute fuzzy babehs. I've been drawn in by this family drama. 
And I've written about it from a Buddhist perspective on my Buddha Mama Sans Drama blog.



Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Running Unragged


I wasn't going to run last night because it was late, I was tired and the kids were in the bath. I wasn't going to run last night because I didn't feel like it. I wasn't going to run last night because my iPod was out of juice. And I wasn't going to run last night because I couldn't find my florescent green running shirt.

I wasn't going to run last night for all of these reasons and more. But then I remembered how irritable I was and so I imagined how good a hot shower would feel after a run. I remembered how good it feels to peel off my socks from my hot feet. I remembered how good it feels when the the cool air hits the space between my toes. I thought of how quiet it would be on my run. How no one would be whining. Or asking. Or demanding. Or shouting. Or arguing. I love my children but the little sweethearts run me ragged.

Running does not run me ragged. There is irony in this. An irony that keeps me from running in the first place. Yes, I'm too tired to run. I'm too irritable to run. I'm too busy to run. But those are all reasons to put on my shoes and the wrong shirt and go running anyway.

I went running without my iPod. So often I think it's the music that keeps me going. But last night I listened to the cars pass by. I listened to the wind in the trees. I watched the leaves wave over my head. I saw delicate Japanese Maples and Dogwoods heavy with blooms. I watched the sunset paint brick buildings orange. I heard to the crack of a bat on a softball diamond and the shouts of girls as they cheered each other on. I listened to my own footsteps on the concrete and the sound of my breath. I saw my reflection blur by as I ran past storefronts and restaurants filled with people eating dinner.

I didn't run far and I didn't run fast. I was home in time to kiss foreheads and sing songs. I took a shower and washed the day off my body. I uncovered new skin. Found new feelings. Washed away work. Scrubbed at stress and it went down the drain so silently I hardly even noticed it was gone.

I don't run for my body. I run for my mind. I don't run to get healthier or thinner or fitter or faster. I run to see the leaves waving over my head. I run to remember that I am human and it is good to be alive. It is good to be alone with the wind and the sound of footsteps on the ground.