Forgiveness anyone? (11/10/2018)

Having to drive for four hours in the afternoon you eventually hit that spot when the news on NPR starts repeating itself. I forgot to download a podcast, so there was nothing better to do than to hit the browse button on the car radio. Not being interested in sport, and music putting you to sleep, I end up listening to talk radio stations as I mention before in this blog. At time I hit an AM Religious Station that are so plentiful of in the western part of our state. I often linger at these stations and as a Unitarian Universalist, but somehow raised in a religious community by non-religious parents, I love to listen to what dogma they are spouting this time. This is mostly for entertainment purposes and partially for education. However, this time, the discussion got my interest. The part about God lost my interest; but thank God that came at the end. 

The talk was about forgiveness. There were no Bible parables or whatever, but just a fairly good and frank discussion. I am not sure if I remember all of it, but it came down to the concept that we need to be able to forgive for society to function at its best. Even better, on a personal level, that forgiveness is good for your own mental and even physical health.

Clinical research seems to support that forgiveness is good for your mental and physical health. It seems that forgiveness is good for your coronary (hearth or vascular) health, the immune system and overall stress. Amazing isn’t it?

This discussion on forgiveness hit home on so many levels. After the past weeks where we have been through a mid-term election; all the racially charged crap about caravans that were ready to invade us, but all the sudden evaporated after the elections; a bomber being arrested; a number of murderous shooters: one of two African Americans in Louisville, regretfully somewhat ignored, the killing at the synagogue in Pittsburgh, and most recently at a western bar in California. We desperately need a lot of empathy and maybe even some forgiveness. Empathy for the victims and their family. Forgiveness of some of those anti-Semites and gun tooters who saw the national reaction after what happened and saw light. Forgiveness for those who gave lip service to the demagogue leader of our country who told us after what happened in Charlottesville that neo-Nazi anit-Semites were nice people too, or maybe that some of the people who opposed the Nazis were evil. Forgiveness for others who have hate in their hearts and now understand that this is going to threaten humanity as we know it.

The radio program hit me on a personal level, as well. The inability to forgive seems to be a genetic affliction that plagues my family; both on my mother’s and my father’s side. It goes back for generations and it is not only in my direct family and siblings, but it also plagues the brothers of my father and my mother and their direct family. It is absolutely amazing. On a personal level, I have tried to make my siblings aware of this fact and proposed to them to bury the ax; I made my overtures, but to no avail (an interesting side note, none of the siblings talk with each other). I have told them we are repeating the mistakes of our parents (but then, history repeats itself); that we have a chance to break with family “tradition.” I have been laughed at, ridiculed, belittled, gotten angry responses, and been blamed. It was affecting my physical and mental health, and my marriage. So, I have decided that they don’t exist any longer; I no longer have siblings in my mind. It does not mean that I have not forgiven them in my heart, but as I’ll explain later forgiving does not mean forgetting or reconciling. I am not saying that the relation can never be “born again,” but it for right now it would need to come from them; I am done from my side.

So yes, as you can see, the talk got me thinking. What exactly is forgiveness? Doing some research, I found that it is very easy to confuse forgiveness with terms or words like: condoning, excusing, forgetting, pardoning, and reconciling. Forgiving is when you let go of the negative emotion, feelings or attitude, including vengefulness, combined with your ability to wish your offender well, regardless the offense or the emotions it brings up in you. The person that was offended might be justifiably offended but he or she has evolved and grown past it. So, forgiving does not mean reconciling and being friends again, it just means no longer being bothered by what ever happened and going on in life. As the saying in my mother language says: “you are trying not make your heart a killing zone (or a murder pit).”

Being close to a Buddhist, I looked in to what they said about forgiveness or the lack of it. In Buddhism the lack of forgiveness causes havoc in one’s mental well-being. Feelings of ill-will seem to have lasting effect on one’s karma. It seems that resentment and hatred or the lack of forgiveness forces us to be reborn around this issue of pain and we will never be able to move on in generations (lives) to come. Doesn’t that sound familiar, history repeating itself? At least in both branches of my family it does.

Try to forgive in your life and see the end of the trail of hate, resentment and vengefulness.  It is bad for your health and general well-being!  

It is just interesting to see how a religious program on an AM radio station got me thinking and my relationship with my siblings; the relationship of my parents with their siblings; my uncles with each other and with my parent; and my cousins with their siblings (from different branches of the family and different uncles). I have forgiven them all, but again, reconciliation is a different thing. However, at least I am trying my best to maintain a relationship with my cousins, nephews and nieces, regardless of what my brother and sister think or say about me; and that is heartfelt. Hopefully we can do that as a society as well, stay civil and talk, regardless what and who we are as a society, what our political or social believes are, and how desperately our political leaders are trying to divide us.

Living purposefully (10/20/2018)

Recently I shared the following quote on my Facebook page:

“Life is short. Make sure you spend as much time as possible on the Internet arguing with strangers about politics.” 

I can subtitle this as follows “how to live a life without a purpose.”

While I am personally very upset by the current stage of our politics, I am also at times a casual observer. Being a “first generation” US citizen, of late I could (and have) personally felt offended by the immigration policy of the Trump administration (see this post). Moreover, I have always wondered about the ethics of certain politicians especially their environmental, social and moral ethics. I don’t even want to go into questioning financial ethics. In other words, I am a progressive liberal and proud of it. But then, I often find it much more fun to be a casual outside observer and still have that foreign (“wow, this is fascinating/only in America”) streak. I can assure you that it sometimes frustrates my wife that I can just sit back and be amused by it all, instead of being angered by it.

One of the reasons of course is that some of the arguing is so artificial. We have learned that it was and is being stoked by the Russians, maybe the Chinese and probably other folks who have a stake in influencing what is going on around here. Recently we were told that the mid-term elections are not immune to meddling and the Russians are busy again. On top of that I heard the other day that even during our famous Kavanaugh hearings certain slang words for a favorite party girl of a football team were quickly altered in Wikipedia by his allies after the judge denied that the word really meant what it meant, but that it meant something else. All the sudden Wikipedia showed it also meant something endearing (the poster … a U.S. Republican Congress man … did not know that you actually leave a digital finger print on the site when you change something, with an email address and the date it was changed). In other words, while the Internet is great for certain things, we should take it with a healthy dose of skepticism, in particular when it is used to provoke or rile up the masses.

Why am I going here with this post? I somehow feel there must be some purpose to my life, other than this senseless, empty arguing over the internet about politicians and their chosen vocation. We only have a finite lifespan of give or take 75 years and why spend it on this crap? I am confronted daily by my mortality when I read the obituaries and see that a lot of the dead people are younger than me, and I really wonder: don’t we have anything better to do, like actually improving this world or at least our lives? The purpose of life may remain elusive, but we might as well make the best of it. Some philosophers think we are part of a giant computer simulation built by an alien race. As someone put it, we might be a surrealistic punchline in a cosmic joke. Who knows, but we might as well enjoy it and let it play out (instead of fighting each other on Facebook or Twitter).

So, what is the purpose of my life, or what do I think it is or would hope it is? Oh, so many philosophers have thought and argued about that one and it this is not my place to do this with you. Neither is it to argue with folks over the Internet about who is wrong or right about politics, nor is it my task to tell people how to live their lives, unless it is unethical. The easy way out would be to assume that I am part of that computer simulation, then it does not matter would it? Think about it, we could start over again (or they could start the program over again), if it failed.

Personally, I have always hoped to leave the world intellectually a little richer place when I depart it, hopefully a little longer than three quarters of a century after I came from almost nothing (just two cells that my parents contributed) but I will definitely disappear into nothing. Political arguments over Facebook do not contribute to intellectual enrichment. But like everyone else I stumble so now and then. However, this is the philosophy that has guided my life and career path. Somehow, I felt that I cannot do this by being stuck in an area the size of a few square miles for the rest of my life and fight with a group of ignorant brainwashed folks who believe that a charlatan billionaire who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth is actually looking out for them. I want to absorb life to the fullest and then share these experiences with the people around me, my friends, loved ones and the students I teach; folks that matter. It seems that many of my students appreciate it, which is exactly one of the things that gives purpose to my life. I realize that these things I share are experiences that directly relate to the classes that I teach. The ugly stories such as being held at gunpoint in Uganda can only be shared with friends and loved ones. But still they contribute to who I have become and what I believe in; it has given me a more worldly view and a purpose to fulfill, as opposed escape into opioids, other pain killers such as alcohol, mindless television sit-comes, sport shows, or screaming at the TV while watching news shows on Fox news or even CNN and MSNBC; a life unlived, purposeless.

I paint a picture of a grim life. Boy, I paint with broad brush strokes today my friends, and I sincerely hope you have something that floats your boat. Whether it is politics or another hobby, make sure it gives your life a purpose. Most important to me are my family, my bonsai trees, my sailboat, my ability to bike and nature. As you can see the overriding factor in my life that brings me peace and quiet is being outside, being one with the natural world. 

My escape into the woods and away from all the crap around me.  It was cold this week and the ponds behind our home were giving of a faint mist. Serenely at last!

Remember; however, even for me there are political causes important enough to get excited about. I have participated in the Women’s March on Washington, the March for Science, and the March for our Kids (for gun control). I have canvassed for Obama and for Hillary and will canvass for the mid-terms as well. I have however, mostly given up arguing with strangers or with friends (acquaintances) on the Internet (read Facebook). I even checked out of Facebook for 3 months right after the presidential elections. I still try to overtly preach my love for the natural world, evolution and climate change in my classes even though some roll their eyes. All causes I believe in and will do my utmost for. In the hope to educate and change a mind or two and leave this world a little richer after spending my short little time on it.

"Zeeee" said the woman (9/24/2018)

“Zeeee, zeeee, zeeee” spoke the woman in a low, somewhat low husky but hushed voice to me. The owner of the restaurant asked me: “Can I buy it from you?” What the heck was going on? Well, let’s start at the beginning.

I was in Blacksburg this week; home of Virginia Tech. I was teaching two different inspector classes and as usual consulted Yelp for a place to go out for dinner. I have found Yelp to be a fairly reliable travel companion when it comes to finding good to sometimes even funky places to eat. Well, when Yelp told me there was a Tibetan restaurant nearby called Himalayan Curry Café that has four and a half stars, this former dweller of the Himalayan Mountains had to go and try it out.

As my regular readers know, my wife and I lived in Nepal for about a year and a half. My job took me up on the Tibetan Plateau of the Mustang district at regular intervals. I have written about my wonderful encounter with a Tibetan scholar/Lama and about my experience getting dehydrated in a snowstorm at 12,000 feet elevation. There are many more stories I can tell from being up there. I sometimes feel that his blog is turning out to become somewhat of my personal memoire, combined with observations of current events and some of the more natural things around us.

Getting back to the story. When I got to the restaurant, it was obvious a place for a university crowd. A cut above one of those take-out Chinese restaurants that your see in every strip mall, but less than a regular Indian restaurant. You either get takeout, or they end up serving your food on styrofoam plates and you eat it with plastic utensils. To me, the menu looked very Indian; however, in fine-print on the side were some Tibetan dishes which immediately caught my attention. I ordered momos, a dish of Tibetan steamed dumplings; lentil soup; and a samosa (yes that was Indian). While paying, I asked the proprietor if he was from Nepal. “No” he answered, “we are from Tibet.” We made a little additional small talk and that was it. 

With the lentil soup finished it was time to attack the momos.  The black sauce is a hot chili sauce which is very good.

All dishes were out-of-this-world delish (later, I rated the restaurant a five star on Yelp). The momos were filled with beef, in Mustang mine were filled with Yak meat or mutton, but boy did I recognize the taste. Tibetans are Buddhist and they will eat beef (or cows) unlike the Hindus, for whom the cows are considered holy. I remember so well being with the Buddhist population and Tibetan ethnic groups in Nepal; they are so very different than the Hindu population of the lowlands. One of the more interesting memories is that of sleeping with an entire family unit in their home during a very cold evening. I was taking a visiting scientist around the districts I was working in. Everyone on mats on the floor, of course, with their head towards a central fire. In the beginning I was somewhat distrustful, but that was completely baseless. When we woke up in the morning, the first thing that happened was the passing around of a cup of warmed up peach brandy. This brandy was distilled at an agricultural experiment station nearby. After that the lady house started making the famous butter tea, made from tea leaves, yak butter, boiling water and salt (an acquired taste for sure). Memories of a night and early morning I will always carry with me. 

The one time we visited the area we landed smack in the middle of a Buddhist ceremony.  Here monks are tooting their long horns in a procession.

Another picture of the ceremony male and female monks in the ceremony while the villagers are looking on.

But I digress again. After finishing my dinner, it was time to leave and I walked over to the trash bins to deposit my dirty plates and dinnerware. In the meantime, a Tibetan couple had come in and sat down in the far corner and the owner of the restaurant had joined them and they were talking. I waved at them and the owner asked me if I enjoyed my food. I told him I did and decided to walk over and show them the ring I bought from a Tibetan gentleman when I was in Nepal some 35 years ago and that I wear on my right hand. The instance the lady of the couple saw my ring she hissed those words to me: “Zeeee, zeeee, zeeee.” We knew the stone in the ring was a Z-stone, but her reaction was amazing, and it was the first time I had an independent confirmation. 

Here it is, the ring I wear every day with the Z-stone.

The lady continued: “That is a precious stone.” This was where the restaurant owner asked me if he could buy the ring from me. The lady’s husband chimed in telling me that a Z-stone gives the wearer power and the bigger the stone the more power it has. According to the owner, the power flows from the shoulder to the hand and goes “pow.” It seemed none of them had a Z-stone and it is very desirable in their culture, because it gives you power and fends off evil. We talked a bit more about things. It seems that I met all the Tibetans in Blacksburg that evening; a fun, interesting and delicious evening indeed. A wonderful throw back to a time 35 years ago, but still fresh in my memory.

Some of the things you can only remember when you travel.  To quote Mohammed: "Don't tell me how educated you are, tell me how much you traveled."

Meditation and frogs (9/16/2018)

Living next to a nature preserve, a natural area, woods, or whatever you want to call it, has its positive points and negatives. For one, we will never have any development behind our home. Secondly, I have a place to practice my forest bathing; if not just by standing in our yard and meditatively stare into the woods, I can just disappear into it. I also have a lot of material for my classes; especially the wetland class I teach. In addition, I take a lot of pictures in those woods and my Instagram page is replete with them. Finally, they are a rich source for some of my blog posts.

Here it sounds that I am using the woods for selfish reasons; but that is far from the truth. While I am still debating whether to allow advertising on my blog, for right now I don't make a penny by writing it. My objective was and still is educational and sharing some of my photographs, my thoughts, life experience, philosophy and love for the natural world. Isn’t that what the internet was intended to be, a free exchange of ideas? But then, who could not use some extra money.

But I digress. To me there is almost nothing better than to step out of our back door on a Saturday morning after my morning coffee and reading the newspaper, to walk to the edge of our very small plot of land and just stand there for maybe five minutes and take it all in; to absorb it all. I may even walk 30 or 50 steps into the woods to this small hill, most likely a remnant of a redoubt that was constructed by Washington’s troops during the Revolutionary War. It is at this point where everything I experienced the past week starts making sense. I look up at the top of the trees and watch the warblers hunting among the leaves in the top of the canopies. I listen to the calls of the blue jays which sometimes sound like a hawk; the calls from cat birds which, you guessed it, sounds like the meowing of a cat; the towhees that invite me to “drink your tea”; red-bellied woodpeckers; and chickadees.

“Oh”, you might say, “isn't that a selfish reason, dumping all the weeks thoughts, worries and troubles in the woods and on to those poor birds?” I promise you they can handle it. Nature is much more resilient than us human beings. They are not faced by me standing there and taking it all in. Actually, the chickadees sometimes get pretty annoyed with my presence and they are the first ones to let me know that, in particular when I bring my dog Jake with me to just take it all in. They’ll come to a branch close to us and sound their nasal alarm, as in “we see you; now go away.” Jake knows the weekend routine. He gets up and walks to the back door the second I am done reading the newspaper and get up; it is time “to walk the grounds” or “explore the out-back” as I call it.

This past Sunday the “out-back” was amazing. But I must take a step back. In a previous post, I mentioned that the weather Gods have it out for me. Well, they must have known that we were at a concert in Williamsburg on Saturday night and that I was driving back. The skies opened up on the way home. I could not see a thing while driving. The way I drove was from dashed line on the highway to dashed line, saying out loud: “there is the next line” and keeping those lines under my left tire. A neighbor with a rain gauge told me later that we got 5 inches of rain that evening. All that rain must have fallen in maybe an hour or so; our neighborhood was partially flooded. 

This is what the woods looked like in the morning.  Part of the yard were flooded.  In the far left you can see the bee-hive we have in our yard

We walk our dogs in the evening before going to bed. We could already hear what was going on. Frogs had come out of hibernation immediately! It was amazingly loud. Later, even with the windows closed you could hear them inside our home. The next morning, we saw why. Our back yard was still under water. The noise was amazing (I made a recording and will try to imbed it <here>). This was one of the few times that it was so loud in the 18 years we have lived in our home. The interesting part is that the next day it was quiet again behind our home. The frogs had either gone back to bed or done their thing and were exhausted after a night and morning of debauchery. They are so opportunistic.

Nature is wonderful, the wetlands or Grafton ponds behind our home are a unique ecosystem. This is why the area was designated as a nature preserve. It protects the endangered Mabee salamander and a sedge. Obviously, the frogs do not mind this arrangement. At night we have them on our windows and sliding door, waiting for unsuspecting insects to fly by, attracted to the bright interior.

But let me also come full circle and get back to the start of this post. As I mentioned there are positives and negatives of living next to these woods. The possible negatives of living where we live include deer, ticks and mosquitoes. At times we have enough of them, but for right now the positives still outweigh the negatives, especially those evenings and mornings when there is a cacophony of frogs, or when I can go and explore the out-back.

Travelers and moonshine (9/4/2018)

So now and then the motel chain I frequent sends me a survey asking me what my impression was of the latest motel I stayed in during my travels throughout the state. While I am generally fairly satisfied with the Holiday Inn chain, their Express motels can be all over the map. My latest review reads: “Convenient Mediocrity.” Based on my latest stay, I really need to try to find a better motel chain in those areas where I can only find some hotels where I have that specific experience as my latest one. Maybe I should be more like Edward Abbey, and find a cabin in a mountain village as he describes in his book “Appalachian Wilderness: The Great Smoky Mountains.” He wrote:

In the restaurants blue gas fires burning under stacks of ceramic logs that look almost real until you get close. Omni present in the background that bland tapioca-like sound my wife calls ”department-store music.” Décor by Holiday Inn – all the motel lobby furnishings, all the restaurant tables and chairs and lighting fixtures, look as though they came from the same factory somewhere in Sothern California. Everything designed by a neurotic suffering from a severe case of social irrelevance.

What’s the alternative to this comfortable mediocrity? A grand European-style luxury that most of us would not be able to afford? Or a return to the mode of a century ago, coming into a mountain village on horseback, having a cold supper by lamplight in the cabin-kitchen of some morose mountaineer, while savage coon dogs howl, slaver and snarl on the other side of the door, and going to sleep in the early dark on a cornhusk matrass, prey to a host of bloodsucking vermin?

Which would you prefer? Which would I really prefer?

You won’t believe me but I’ll tell you: I fancy the latter, i.e., the horse, cabin, dogs and bugs. 

It would fit, sometimes. During my latest visit to the western part of the state (Appalachia) last week, one of my students handed me a McDonalds paper take out sack and told me to be careful with it. On further inspection it contained a mason jar filled with moonshine; a different kind of happy meal! Now that would fit right in with that mountain village cabin, the howling dogs and cornhusk matrass. He described it as moonshine (95 proof he told me) made from corn. I can just imagine the corn kernels making the libation and the husk making the place to sleep off the hangover, the after effects of drinking the results of the fermentation and distillation process of those ground up yellow seeds. I tasted it when I got home, it was somewhat syrupy and did not taste half bad! 

Moonshine anyone?  Chilled and ready to go.  I discarded the packaging.

The motel I stayed in in Fairfax is a sentimental favorite, although every time I end my visit it feels like I need to stay at the Hilton, which cost more-or-less the same and is a heck of a lot cleaner and more luxurious. Believe it or not, but I used the description "Convenient Mediocrity " before I read Abbey's words.

I have been coming to this motel for ten years. I have even been stuck in there during two snow storms. We had to cancel classes and I was imprisoned in a room at that place for more than 36 hours. Entertainment existed of either some panicking individuals on television discussing the current weather conditions in and around DC; another TV station with some superficial garbage masquerading as news or a show; a book or magazine I had brought with me; or some form of digital entertainment. At times I may actually have done some work. I eventually ended up trudging through 12 inches deep snow across the street to a Hooters restaurant for lunch. Honest to God, one of the few times in my life I have eaten at Hooters. I am a real testament that the Hooters chicken wings are not half bad. My waitress was Russian, and she was wearing some very skimpy revealing outfit while it was snowing outside. I somehow thought that to her it must have felt just like Moscow or Siberia in winter at that moment; it did not seem to faze her at all. My nightly dinner was at Red Lobster next to the motel. That was how far I ventured from the motel, I waited out the storm and extended my stay a day or two, so I could finish my class: a dedicated instructor, indeed. 

These snowstorms always seem to start around four in the morning and wind down around eight in the evening, to have reasonably clear roads by the next morning. One exception was what is still known as “snowmageddon” in the Washington DC area. I was stuck in that one as well in northern Virginia but not in that motel. That one struck at 3 pm and was so bad that by the time rush hour started everybody was stuck. I made it to my hotel and we ended up making snow men in the hotel parking lot.

Traveling can be fun and interesting. In previous posts I wrote about noisy neighbors and about some of my naughtier thoughts about the furnishings in motel and hotel rooms. I try to make the best of it. It can be lonely, that’s for sure. In the past, I was able to meet up with a good friend, break bread and have a pint with him. That has gotten a bit more difficult since he changed jobs. But I still don’t want to live like a hermit when traveling. It would be too easy to buy a TV dinner, order a pizza for delivery, or get Chinese take-out and mope in my room. For one, I hate to sleep in a room filled with the smell of stale food. Moreover, I hate to walk through a motel and see dirty dishes piled up in the halls. That’s not my style either. So off I go to a restaurant.

I generally do not eat in my motel or hotel. The places I stay are not of the highest class and the food is only average and predictable. I also like to people watch. Nothing better (or sad) than seeing a couple come in with their two kids. Sitting down at the table; hubby and wify grab their cell phone and start staring at it, not communicating with each other, nor their kids. Kids of course don’t have a phone or anything else; they just stare in front of themselves, they may talk to each other, but that is rare. They just sit there as logs, waiting for dinner to arrive, contemplating how best to become the best next mass murderer or high school shooter. Just some of the interesting and sad things one sees when traveling around. It aggravates and upsets me. However, as I mentioned before, traveling can have its good points too, especially when you get to enjoy nature, the sounds of nature next door, the sights or just the (fermented) results and tastes of nature. Cheers!

I actually had a chance to take a picture of this scene in the restaurant.  Father and mother are staring at their phones and had been doing that for a while.  The kids are bored and just staring ahead, not knowing what to do with themselves, waiting to be fed.