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Buddhism Love Letters Thirsty Thursday

Thank You | Letter 10

To my Ex,

Thank you.

You have given me much I will cherish for years to come. Nothing I can keep in a box under my bed. No pictures to burn. Gifts far greater – ones I will carry with me life to life, like my pure love for you.

Patience. 

Before I met you, it was rare to walk slowly through nature, and never would I think to name its parts. Waiting was a great torment. Sitting silent was near impossible. Then, you mixed your patient mind with mine.

Faith.

You challenged my beliefs constantly. A torture at the time, but such a gift to progress. This obstacle appeared to destroy our relationship, but served as a test I passed time and again. You helped me try each teaching until I had conviction in each one. I valued them more than temporary relationships. I would keep them at the cost of my life.

Love.

Though we did not know unconditional, we strove. I accepted love from you. And I found my happiness only in giving. For we can never take love for ourself from another. That will never cease suffering. Loving you has helped cease suffering. Loving all beings (even spiders) creates my happiness.

It is only in reflection that I can begin to understand that I was absolutely blessed by the Buddhas that my path be made meaningful and my travel swift. Thank you to Buddha, who appears as friend, family and foe to guide us from our misery.

If we can remember to apply the primary practice.

Thank you.

Love,
your Ex

Categories
Poetry

The Fairy Tale Dream

Written in 2011


As soon as the words leapt from my mouth like some dancing flame I couldn’t control,

I wanted to scream: I LIED!

But my mouth swallowed my words, and my tongue swelled so I could no longer speak.

I have fallen down some Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole

Caught in between a world I desire which I’ll never have and some stark reality which is playing tricks on me.

How can I be the only one deceived by these mismarked potion bottles?

When I drink the one which says courage, I grow smaller. When I drink the one marked power, I become a pawn.

However, unlike Alice I was not drowning in my own tears. It is not my sorrow I fear, but my words.

And I’m not a dumb blond like Alice, easily confused and fooled by people.

I see that Cheshire cat, always willing to smile at me; I’m never willing to smile back.

(Once upon a time were the words that I spoke.)

I drink tea like the Mad Hatter and I’m wicked like the Queen.

Maybe the best place for me is the Rabbit Hole, where I can pretend it’s all a dream, and soon I’ll wake up on the banks of that flowing river – well-rested with an attitude adjustment, and some new found appreciation like Dorothy after she returns from Oz.

If only lessons were so easily learned as in fairy tales.

Categories
Poetry

My Grandpa Taught Me to Play Tetris

I say “yes” to each
Tetris block that falls
I say “I left space for you”
there is no good or bad
everything fits or doesn’t

I do my best.
How could I do more?