September Sightings

Hi all,

I would love to see you this September. I have a ton of activities. Please join.

September 3

Sunday Jump, 5-7pm

Pilipino Workers Center

153 Glendale Blvd

LA  CA  90026

September 16

Book Party, 3pm

Skylight Books

1818 N. Vermont

LA  CA  90027

September 25

Canisius University, 5:30pm

Andrew L. Bouwhuis Library Learning Center

Buffalo, NY 

September 26

PEN America Reading,7pm

Earth, Wind, Fire, Music:

A Celebration of New Work.

Second Home

1370 N. St. Andrews Pl.

LA  CA  90028

Book Party on September 16!

 

Please join me for my book party on September 16 at 3pm.

Music Heard in Hi-Fi and Other Stories (Rebel Satori)

Skylight Books

1818 North Vermont

LA  CA  90027

There will be lots of food! Read more HERE!

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.