A Day of Mourning

 

December 1st can be a hard day. It's World AIDS Day, a time to remember the tens of millions of people who died of AIDS. I did AIDS work for over twenty years and spent many December 1st days in some state of mourning. I didn't want to spend the day in a state of loss and grief, so I decided to engage in escapist fantasy. I watched Wakanda Forever--a movie, unbeknownst to me, was all about loss and grief! Oy.

Their was a somber farewell to Chadwick Bosemen, which was emotional enough, but the whole movie seemed to grapple--in a successful and adventurous way--with a number of ways we experience loss. Yes, this was about the loss of loved ones, but it was also an exploration in the loss of culture. 

We were introduced to Namor, one of the most complex villains to come along in awhile. Tenoch Huerta was excellent as this Mayan god. He is what he is due to colonization. 

I found myself misty eyed, feeling what I needed to feel on World AIDS Day--loss and grief.  

To those we lost to AIDS, I miss you.

Being Okay With Everything

I got Covid over Christmas. It was mild, felt like a cold. I've experienced worst colds or flus. It was seeing the word "positive" from my PCR test that was alarming. I had flashbacks from the AIDS days when testing positive meant probable death. 

Of course, I prayed for a negative test. We don't know the long-term effects of Covid, even the mild forms. So, it was another monkey I didn't want on my back. 

As soon as I recovered, I went in for a scheduled medical procedure, a procedure I'd put off for over a year because I didn't want to be near a hospital and perhaps get Covid. Alas.

"Don't pray for everything to be ok. Pray to be ok with everything."

The procedure was to fix a damaged nerve in my brain. This nerve was affecting the way my tongue worked, causing me to slur speech. Speaking is a big part of my livelihood, so I decided to get it done. The procedure required radiation, which left me somewhat nauseous and fatigued. 

I prayed for all to go well, which it did. My tongue works almost normally now.

Under doctor's orders, I had to make sure I didn't cause my heart to race for a few weeks. I couldn't go on my morning runs or to the gym. I tried not to read upsetting news. 

In my convalescence, I did more meditation and prayer. Each time, I prayed for all to be well. It's a typical prayer, I supposed. I began to wonder what would have happened if I died of Covid or my medical procedure had complications--stroking out was a small possibility, but still a possibility. 

Rather than praying for all to be well, I prayed for peace and acceptance with whatever the outcome. What if things don't turn out well? What if all gets fucked up? I'm afraid of dying bitter or angry. I believe in reincarnation and there's a theory that our minds at the moment of death will determine our next incarnation. 

I learned: Don't pray for everything to be ok. Pray to be ok with everything.

Of course, I don't mean to be ok with injustice or oppression. I just know some things take time and being ok with life as it is will lead to a more satisfied existence. Work for change, but don't get torn up if change doesn't come quickly. Maybe this is why I believe in reincarnation. I can be reborn to finish what I started in a previous life. Believing this somehow makes things ok.

Photo by Noel Alumit

Oh, Joshua Tree

I had to get away for a bit. One of the places that I love in all of the world is the desert, specifically Joshua Tree. What an incredible piece of earth that place is.

I wrote about it in my second novel "Talking to the Moon." Jory, the father of character, loves Joshua Tree because he adores the moon. Joshua Tree looks like the moon, a far away, enchanted place.

I found spots to meditate and simply relax. The desert is deadly in Summer, but nine months out of year, it's pretty amazing. 

 

Tough Week

 It's been a rough week. The killings in Atlanta have been devastating. I'm hurting, my friends are hurting, my community is hurting. I facilitated an impromptu meditation session to help ease our suffering. Just sitting together, albeit virtually, helped a lot. 

When I take refuge, I take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. Sitting in a group helped me see how truly valuable a Sangha, or spiritual community, is. Sharing communal pain was truly an act of community.

We are a social species. Our ability to survive is by forming groups, communities. Gathering together is a deeply human act.  Let's be human.

Heart Center

 I had the pleasure of doing a reading at Spoken Interludes. I read a new piece called Heart Center, touching on Buddhist topics like impermanence, the suffering of death, and Kuan Yin, goddess of compassion. 

Speaking at Spoken Interludes on March 7

 When Delaune Michel invited me to do this event on Sunday, I actually got real emotional. I remember when I was asked to do this legendary literary salon almost 20 years ago. I was younger and knew that Spoken Interludes was a REAL big deal. 

It was validating to be asked, considering that there were many others who DIDN'T ask. I changed a lot. I'm reading an essay on leading a Buddhist death ritual for a friend who was passing away. The essay will be the first time I'd read it out loud. Reading something publicly makes a piece of writing real for me. It's not just tucked away in a computer or in my mind. It's a living, breathing being. It becomes alive somehow.

Please join us. It's FREE. Register HERE. 

Me Talking About Death as an Affirmation of LIfe

(The Catacombs in Paris)

 

I'm honored to have been the inaugural interview for the Death and Dhamma podcast. Take a listen. 

The End of a Novena

 

Tonight we had the last session of a Novena for an uncle who passed away (non-Covid).  I hadn't done a rosary in quite awhile. I used to do it when I was a practicing Catholic. It was like riding a bike meditating to the litany of prayers. I visualized lifting my uncle's soul to heaven.

In Buddhism, there is a tale of hungry ghosts who are liberated from their ghostly status, elevated to their next incarnation through prayer.

I used a rosary that I got when I visited the Vatican in 2019. I got them blessed at St. Peter's Basilica. I didn't think I'd ever use them. I remembered that the rosary was actually inspired by mala.

 At least that's what Elizabeth Gilbert wrote in her memoir Eat, Pray, Love. I was not surprised by this, the story of Crusaders venturing East then seeing Buddhists and Hindus using prayer beads, eventually bringing it back to Europe. I don't think the Catholics want to make this connection. They want to believe it was an original invention by St. Dominic.

Regardless, fingering beads in prayer just feels spiritual to me. And it can also help with a nervous habit. If it brings comfort, its fulfilled its purpose. 

My Second Mid-Life

 Over the holidays, some friends died. Not of Covid, cancer. They were around my age. As we older, the body becomes more frail, more diseased. This is a fact. Old age, sickness, and death are three of the "sufferings." Birth is the fourth.

When I was younger, and peers were dying of AIDS. I felt as I do now. I had a mid-life crisis. In my twenties. When so many were dying in their forties, 25 was mid-life.

In my fifties, I'm in my second mid-life. I'm trying not to have a crisis. I had one already. I'll aim to have a mid-life catharsis--let go, just let that sh*t go.

  

Countless Disappointments

I'm prepping for a new course I'm teaching called Buddhist American Literature. I'm reading African American Buddhist Charles Johnson. His work is incredible salve during these hard times. I'm also watching a lot of movies during this Covid time. I saw Ma Rainey's Black Bottom based on the play by August Wilson.  

After reading Johnson's story Night Hawks, I see they were friends. There was something magical about discovering this happenstance. Here is what Johnson wrote of Wilson in Night Hawks:

"How many times had his heart been broken? He could not remember the countless disappointments. Like so many writers and artists I've known, his art was anchored in lacerations and a latticework of scar tissue."

Let our sadness be a spark in the night time.

A Lit Path, 2017

Thriving While Sad

Artist at Rest, 2020

It is a new year, and I'm terribly sad. Over 350,000 people have died of Covid and the Capitol had been attacked. I am angry, sad and frustrated. A New Year is always a good way to start new things, so I'm going to sit with these feelings of malcontent. As a Buddhist, I know I can feel all of this Moment but not allow it to control me, force me to do something I may regret later. 

It's been months since I'd posted. I, like so many others, got caught up in the business of surviving. This year, I want to do more than merely survive. I want to thrive, which means, I think, leading my best life while all appears to be dismal. 

Let's try this experiment.

Self-Reflection

I picked up my camera, something I hadn't done in weeks, and turned the lens on myself. I'm sure many of us are doing some major self-reflection during this time of Covid. Lots of questions about the future are coming around, including: will I be alive by the end of the year?

I'm falling on my Buddhism to work through themes of impermanence, death, livelihood.  My biggest solution to all of this is...I don't know.  Live in the "Not-Knowing" was a big theme in American Buddhist Bernie Glassman's philosophy.

I simply don't know what's coming next.  Then again, I didn't know what was coming next without Covid. Things are always uncertain, unknown. Covid is just magnifying how fleeting we really are.

I don't know. I just don't.

Crowd Source, No Masks Required

During this Covid19 quarantine, I really miss crowds of people. No masks required. Some photos down memory lane.

Resist March, 2017

Ruby Ibarra Concert, Getty Museum, 2019

Bhikku Bodhi Buddhist Retreat, 2020

Lotus Festival, 2017

Circus Vargas, 2017

Fil-Am Veterans March, 2018

WRITE EFFORT Realized!

Last weekend, I completed my first full course of WRITE EFFORT: Creative Writing Through a Buddhist Lens. Yes, it was exciting to work with a wonderful group of writers. I see you Kate, Beth, Lizzy, Fred, Doug and Jonathan! Yes, I loved working with the fine literary organization Beyond Baroque, especially Emmitt Conklin. Yes, I loved integrating Buddhist thought with the craft of storytelling.

But what I really loved were the stories that came about. We are filled with an incredible amount of ideas and themes and characters. Inside each and everyone of us is at least one book. However, I think we need effort, mindfulness and concentration--elements of the Buddhist Eightfold Path.

It will be hard, there will be suffering (The First Noble Truth), but one can persevere.

Greater in battle

than the man who would conquer

a thousand-thousand men, 

is he who would conquer just one--

                                     himself.

                                 Buddha

                                           Dhammapada 

                                  VIII; 103

WRITE EFFORT at Beyond Baroque

I am absolutely thrilled to be working with the fine literary institution Beyond Baroque. I became familiar with them in the 1990s as I began my literary career. I am over the moon that I can teach WRITE EFFORT: Creative Writing Through a Buddhist Lens. Classes begin via Zoom on May 23.

Kababayan and Me

I was fortunate enough to be interviewed for the Kababayan podcast. Check it out.

I See You

The Therapist, Oil on Wood, 16 X 20, 2016

I see you.

You, the doctors and nurses watching patients and colleagues die.

I see you.

You, those who lost loved ones.

I see you.

You, the social workers and therapists and chaplains who'll absorb the pain. You're shell shocked, bewildered, confused.

I see you, the ones who've lost someone.

I see you, the ones witnessing the loss.

I see you, the one who've lost the words.

How many times can we say, "Condolensces; so sorry for your loss; if you need anything, call."

I see you.  I see you. I see you.

You are valuable. You are needed. You are amazing.

What I Think of When I Hear "Virus"

Nothing is more triggering to me than the words:  Flu-like symptoms. It was what I had to look for if I thought I may have been infected with HIV.

Maricon, 2017

"Flu-like symptoms" is being bandied about when it comes to Covid-19.  With Covid-19, I remember feeling abandoned, scared and alone during the time of AIDS.  I was a boy who grew into a man during the AIDS epidemic. It has carved me into a particular kind of person.

I saw AIDS destroy people, families and communities.  I could have been dragged into that.  I'm grateful for the gutsy, fearless queers and freaks and rebels and outsiders who said, Fuck This!

We will fight the assholes and take care of our own.

Yes, I was damaged, but I was put back together again.

I don't know how I'll weather through this pandemic. However, there's a part of me that feels strong, skilled because of what AIDS had done to me.

I learned to be here...for me, for you. For us.

Gardening in the Time of Covid-19

Gardening, 2020

In my attempt to enjoy what sun may come out in this rainy Los Angeles weather and maintain social distancing, I took to gardening again. That seems to be a huge part of my creativity these days.

Before we went into shelter-in-place, I visited a nursery by my work and picked up several plants. Choosing the flowers and designing the landscape was truly a creative and happy process for me.

I didn't think I had it in me to make flowers grow, but a few YouTube videos later I was doing it.

There's something about having your hands in dirt that's truly magical. Pulling the flowers out of their plastic containers and put them into the ground feels like an act of truly giving.

Within minutes of planting them, bees and butterflies were floating by to inhale them. I was doing this for our family home, a house my parents scrimped and saved to buy back in the 1970s. By adding flowers, I felt like I was giving a bit of my own signature to this family abode. It felt quite satisfying.

Stuck at Home or Home Retreat?

Malas at Diamond Zen Monastery

Last weekend, I went on retreat. I wasn't expecting to, but I saw that Lama Rod Owens was doing a home retreat, so I went for it.  Why not? I was going to be stuck at home for shelter-in-place. If I was going to be at home, I should definitely make use of it.

As I stated in my last post, don't waste this time. I can fight this situation or be frustrated with it or it can be used to benefit me and others.

There were about 200 people from all over the country on Zoom to participate. We were all in quarantine, but we all needed some spiritual guidance.

Who would have thought in Buddha's time that a sangha could gather like this?  We meditated and asked Lama Rod questions. The most beneficial part of the retreat for me was the discussion on intention.  Are we coming from a good place or are we coming from a place of trauma?

When I confront a coworker, am I reacting from trauma or from a place of kindness?

This got me thinking: when I create is it from a good place or a from a place hurt?  Maybe it's both, but if I want to heal and live a life free from pain, my place of creation should be a place of kindness. I don't want to be spurred on by pain.