My Choosing

I’m flying my flag on Christmas day,

and let me tell you why.

The reason is because I can…

So let Old Glory fly!

It’s a gift to me from those who served…

for those who stood the line.

A gift I proudly fly with pride,

for those who fought and died.

The stars and stripes on Christmas day

will fly so high and proud.

So when you pass on Twin Lakes Lane

shout “Freedom” strong and loud!

So Santa, if you lose your way

as Pensacola passes south,

just look out for Old Glory

to guide you to my house.

Thankful I can celebrate the birth of Christ which is my choosing.  God Bless us all.

Twelve Things I Learned in 2011

Dont' tell me about your 'Prostrate', until you learn to spell it correctly.  And then don't tell me about it until you are at least fifty years old.  I don't want to know.

You can't drink three beers without excusing yourself to the bathroom.  

Don't hold grudges.  Please don't.  People get older, some get sick, some die.  If you are mad, just let it go.  You'll be a better person for it.

Karma lives and is at your door.  If it's good let it in.  If it's not, it will bite you in the ass.

Be a child with a child.  You know you want to.

Suck your stomach in when you go to Walmart.  There are too many people who don't.  Someone will thank you for it.

A good morning kiss will set the pace for the rest of the day.  If your significant other isn't going to initiate it, then it's up to you.

Begin the day with a prayer to God.

Give to those less fortunate even if it's only a smile.

Be true to yourself first.

Do not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do.

Yes, Virginia...there is...keep it going.  

Crossing to Benzaitendo

Benzaitendo is a temple named after the Hindu goddess Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge, music, and creative arts.

I had the opportunity while living in Okinawa and then again visiting Okinawa in 2011 to visit the temple.
The temple was built in 1502, and houses ancient manuscripts gifted by the King of Korea to the King of the Ryukyuan Islands.
I hope you enjoy the picture and the accompanying poetry.

Crossing to Benzaitendo

A leap of faith, a step of hope,

crossing to Benzaitendo.

A traverse of an ancient moat

along a bridge of stone I go.

In search of bygone manuscripts

gifted from a long dead king.

The words were whispered from his lips.

“Behold the truth” an angel sings.

What secret will the words unveil?

Will I return a different man?

My eyes will see, my mouth will tell

the  mystery of this ancient land.

In the center of the temple

lay the book upon a stone,

it’s binding frayed and simple,

it’s pages brown and over-worn.

As I read aloud with every breath,

the words passed down spoke loud and clear;

the joy of love, the pain of death,

the knowledge of five thousand years.

The wisdom of the erudite king,

to follow in his righteous plan.

It’s love, it's trust, it's everything. 

It's how we treat our fellow man.

A choice to make, yes you must know,

to do your best and lend a hand.  

Crossing to Benziatendo…

my journey to a foreign land.

A Gift From Angkor Wat

A simple Buddhist pendant to wear around my neck is a small part of this blog.  I have requested it from my sister who is in Cambodia.  Her destination is Angkor Wat, once a Hindu temple built within a city, and then later a Buddhist temple.  Angkor Wat is the largest religious building in the world.  A temple of the highest order, a religious mecca.  From this temple a simple Buddhist pendant lays wait with my name upon it.  That's the small part of this story.

The larger chapter of this story is my journey into Buddhism.  The steps along the way for me personally to remember and live within the moment.  To remember to breathe and exhale with purpose, and to pay it forward.  I constantly remind myself to live in the present.  The past cannot be changed, and the future is not to worry over, as only the present will guide my steps into the future.

A cup of tea, a clear mind, and living my life in a way that is beneficial to myself and the universe is my choosing.  That is the larger chapter in my life.  How many chapters I have left is unimportant.  If asked what Zen is, I will reply Zen is now.  Zen is the coolness of the air I breathe in.  Zen is the warmth of the air as I breathe out.  

The Buddha will travel a long distance to find my necklace, his new home.  My wish is that he is happy with me, and I with him.

A poem perhaps to reflect upon and close my blog for tonight.

The Nothingness of Tea

Now is all I have

as tea is in the making

unimportant past and future

leave me recalling Zen

Quietly exhaling the day in to air

no words need be spoken

between friends

who met by chance

The tea cup offered

thick green froth

steaming hot

rejuvenating my soul

Bittersweet warmth

kindness between friends

I realize

now is all I have

Sentient

A butterfly visited me this morning by the pool. He stopped long enough to let me take his picture, then I gently cupped him in my hands and released him from the enclosed pool.  I think he was tired because he didn't resist his capture.  As he flew away he looked beautiful against the blue sky.  Our host, my sister in law who is a devout buddhist, heard about my encounter and was happy to learn I released him.  "Something good will come of this," she said.

El Barrio

My name is Maria Marisol Fuentes. I am fifteen years old, well almost. I'll be fifteen next month. My home is New York City, El Barrio. You may know it best as Spanish Harlem. If you haven't already guessed, I'm Puerto Rican. This is my story.
I dropped out of public school when I was twelve years old and started work in a garment factory located on East 113th Street. I live with my Papa, an unemployed alcoholic. My Mama left us two years ago, and I have not heard from her since. The money I earn at the factory helps pay rent for our tiny apartment on Marin Boulevard. Each day that passes, I find myself more depressed and resigned to the idea that I will live and die in the barrio. I want more, and I have a plan to get out, but I will need help.
"It's 6:47 am, I need to walk faster. I've got to clock in by 7:00 am. I can't be late again!" As I made my way down Marin Boulevard, turning South on 2nd Avenue, and then arriving at the factory on 113th street, my feet ached from the fast pace I set walking into work. I thought, I've got to buy some new shoes as I grabbed my time slip and shoved it into the clock. "Ahh, 6:59, I made it!" Still too close for comfort, I thought. As I took my position at my sewing machine my body switched to autopilot while my mind took me to faraway places, like Florida... maybe Puerto Rico. San Juan would be so beautiful this time of year. Anywhere away from this dreary existence that I call home.
So as soon as my shift would begin, it would end. My fingers always ached from the endless repetitious task of attaching collars to the endless supply of shirts that would be pushed my way by the team of seamstresses. I had a quota of one thousand shirts a day. Within two months on the job I could not only meet one thousand shirts a day, but I could surpass that quota by another thousand shirts. I was paid three cents per shirt over my quota. So on a typical day I could earn an extra thirty dollars. To me that was my ticket out of the barrio. I didn't tell Papa about the bonus money. If he knew about it, he would drink it up within a week or two. Yes, my money was safely hidden beneath the floorboard of my bedroom. The money I have saved over the past two years now totaled exactly $15,200. When I find a way to leave Papa and the barrio, I will be gone....just like Mama.
I know my story sounds so dark and hopeless, but there are bright spots in my day. There is a young man at the factory who has been asking about me. He smiles at me, and spoke to me last week. He said "Hola Maria. Mi nombre es Tito Vázquez ." Since then I have learned that he has asked a lot of questions about me. I also have asked about him. I know he is twenty one years old, drives a nice car, and works in quality control at the factory. I also found out that he thinks I am pretty, and wants to ask me out on a date. The older Puerto Rican ladies in the factory are telling me to stay away from him. "He's a playboy," they say. "He's no good...you'll only get hurt" But I like him and if he asks I will go out with him. Although I am fourteen, I have yet to go on a date, or even have a boyfriend, so Tito and his attention intrigued me. I thought possibly I would have a way out of the barrio.
A week later while I was at lunch, Tito sat at my table and asked me on a date. "You know Maria, I was thinking it would be nice to see a movie with you, or if you want to go for coffee we could do that. If you are interested, that is." I thought for only a minute and agreed to meet him. Not at my apartment, but at the corner of Marin and Second Avenue. Tito agree, and told me to watch for a candy apple red Porsche 911. "I'll pick you up at 7pm Maria, watch for me OK?"
That evening before our date I pulled up the floorboard to my bedroom hiding spot and took all $15,200 and stuffed it into an oversized purse. I packed an extra set of clothes. My Papa was passed out on the sofa in the living room. I bent down and kissed him on his forehead and whispered "Goodbye Papa". I knew that when I left the room and closed the door behind me that I would never be back, and would never see Papa again.
Tito pulled up in the Porsche at 7pm. He got out and opened the door for me to get into the passenger side. "Tito, do you believe in God?" "Si, Maria...I do believe. Why do you ask me this?" I opened the bag and showed Tito the money.
"Let's get the hell out of this city," I said. Tito replied, "Si mi amor, si. You should buckle up, I have a very fast car."

Breathe and Smile

I read a bit of Thich Nhat Hanh's book, Breathe! You are Alive, recently.  Thich Nhat Hanh is a Vietnamese Buddhist monk who teaches calmness in the face of adversity.  He has been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in the past for his opposition to the conflict in Vietnam vs USA, and he is a great proponent for world peace.  One of his main focuses is upon breathing and meditation.  "Just breathe, and go slowly" is one of his mantras.  Lord, I did try this afternoon while waiting in the line at Walmart, but I'm only human.
The two ladies in front of me were using a combination of WIC, Foodstamps, Cash, and Credit.  If WIC wouldn't purchase their 3 gallons of milk, and foodstamps had already been  used, they relied on credit.  Unfortunately their credit card was rejected, and unfortunately for the line backing up, they couldn't come up with enough cash to purchase that extra gallon.  So let's call her Madam A takes the milk back to the rear of the store while we all stare down Madam B and tisk tisk her.  5 minutes later Madam A returns with two candy bars and a bottle of water.  The check out goes smoothly from there and it's my turn to check out my items.  All 12 of them.  I thought it would be easy.  
Millie with 15 years at WalMart was the cashier.  She wore that button proudly folks.  I made mention of it as I put my first item on the conveyor belt.  "Fifteen years, I said...you should be proud!"  "No melons on the conveyor", came her terse reply.  "We have a skew for them melons!"  Dammit, breathe I thought as I took the watermelon off the belt and put it in my cart.  My next item wouldn't fare any better.  "What's this?", she said looking inquisitively at my bagged fish I had selected from one of the aquariums in the store.  "It's a fish," I said.  "I know it's a fish sir, but what kind of fish is it?  I can't read the code...is that a 113 or a 118"?  
"It's a 3",  I said not really knowing if it was or not.  I just wanted out of WalMart before I lost my temper.
Now, an hour and a half later I can sit down and really take a deep breath while sitting at home.  I know I just returned from vacation only a few days ago, but somehow I feel a need for a little Jimmy Buffet and an ice cold drink.