Laughing Yoginis

She said she was going over to paint with those Buddhists, and she marched over here. Took up a paintbrush for all of five seconds and then swaggered back across the road for her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Grumbling she returns and tells us she defends when people say bad things about us. I asked what kind and she tells me, "you know, drunk people things." I propose that maybe those opinions are more about them or the alcohol and less about Buddhists. She lets it slide and starts staining the deck. Short summer dress and no shoes, she plops down politelyy but those legs are so long they are just going everywhere. I glance at those long long legs I wonder how the monk is doing. She is perfumed with after-smell of extensive alcohol consumption. She declares she's Christian. I say I think that is cool. She disagrees with me instantly. This becomes a pattern. She has no opinion she claims, but jumps in every half sentence to debate one of the words I have chosen. This...

Next time you are overcome by impatience or anger during a conversation, stop and ask yourself if it is possible that the other person is being zapped by your unspoken impatience or anger. Chances are, if you feel the buzz, so do they. How well will they be able to hear what you are saying?

When you have given him permission to facilitate your sarcasm, impatience or anger to its fruition, then you have lost the argument. This is not activism and it is not sustainable. It will make you tired. Come away from that into a more compassionate viewpoint. There are things none of us understand, people we have misinterpreted and seemingly logical arguments we have all made in defense of incorrect views. You have a good nature, remember the fruits of your practice

They are a young shy couple. The wedding ceremony is simple. Many people have come -- almost 200. Ten more in the wedding party -- standing up for them on the beautiful day. The prayers, commentary and vows are complete and it is their turn to say something to each other. He goes first. Normally very quiet, his voice is clear and confident. His words are beautiful and well-thought. She starts to cry at the very first sentence. I almost cry. By the end of his eloquant speech she is gently but visibly shaking and tears slide down her face, eyes and lips smiling, shining, amazed. It is her turn. Her lips part as if to speak and then close. She takes a deep breath and starts to shake. There is a long pause. Her eyes are still shining. She appears to be overcome not by fear but by a kind of mix of love and wonder and delight. She tries to speak again but no words come. Another long pause. He leans close to her and says in a very quiet and very loving voice "It is OK. You can just say ...