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the little girl

Often in life important decisions have to be made. I knew a little girl who was born with a gift of knowing. She didn’t hesitate when making decisions, and since a confidence and a knowing always preceeded her decision making, she was trusted in those matters because the gift she had was felt and accepted.

Time passed and the little girl became a beautiful woman, and the gift she possessed was forgotten by her as she struggled to make decisions in the world. Perhaps she thought making important decisions as an adult required a different approach. Perhaps she got caught up in believing that certain things like making important decisions actually require struggle. She changed and I watched her worry about what was right and what was wrong, longed for her to rediscover the gift she once had and used so easily. She was a child who so simply tapped into what her heart told her, before she became a learned adult trying to figure out all the thoughts in her head. Those thoughts that never seem to stop. Those thoughts-are they right or are they wrong? Who knows? The heart of a little girl once knew. Surely the gift is still there waiting to to be trusted and used once again.

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an utterly simple day

At times life seems complicated. At other times it’s utterly simple. Today was one of those utterly simple days. Let me explain.
In a Manhattan taxi on the way to the corner of Canal and Bowery Streets to get the 11:00 am Fung Wah bus, I reach for the bottle of just purchased Perfect water. It wasn’t until after its opening that I realize a very easy twist released the cap, and there was no seal to remove. I place it back in the bag as the conversation with the taxi driver continues. We’re in agreement that the city has changed, and that Saturdays are not as busy as other days. That’s not to say that Saturdays are not busy-just not as. Soon we reach the Fung Wah bus area. I pay the driver and cross Canal Street, and walk to the Fung Wah store front with suitcase in hand to purchase a one-way ticket to Boston for $15. The day is humid and passengers have boarded the bus with bottled water. No time to buy water; the bus is ready to leave. www.fungwah.com

In Connecticut I think about the water still in its bag. Suddenly a vision floods my mind. I take a sip from my bottle of Perfect water bought with a loose cap. I clutch my throat, only the whites of my eyes show. My body falls forward with an impact-dead. Monkey mind is working overtime it seems. What is the possibility someone tampered with that bottled water with the loose cap? I ask myself.

There’s suddenly a wonderful smell in the bus. A favorite Chinese food? Maybe. French fries from you-know-where has the same affect when you’re enclosed in a place for a time and someone opens a bag of them. Back to the important matter at hand, drink or not drink the bottled water with the loose cap? That is the question. We’re now at McDonald’s in Connecticut “for 10 minutes” our courteous bus driver announces as we line up to leave the bus. I get off with the others and walk around. I’m back on the bus after 10 minutes, and as I slip into my seat I notice a book, FAST FOOD NATION, on the seat in back of mine. I’d have felt a pang of guilt had I returned with a bag of fast-food. I smile when noticing that the reader of the book is also empty-handed.

Traffic is a bit heavy. It’s okay. We’re a neat group on the bus; it feels happy. Traveling alone allows for listening to parts of conversations. Sometimes you learn something. Not this time as a group of Chinese people are directly in front of me, and I entertain no thought of ever being able to understand the Chinese language. Back to my iPod listening to Christmas music. The songs haven’t been changed since December. I hesitate to return a message on my cell phone, not wanting to be the third person with the loud voice calling everyone on the bus to attention.

Have you eaten Goji berries? They’re supposed to give energy. I brought them along for that purpose. Next trip I’ll check the cap on the bottled water and bring more than Goji berries. I spot a motorcyclist without a helmut. I guess it’s his choice. He looks carefree-red bandana around his forehead, chocolate-colored tank top, jeans. A peaceful, totally content with life expression on his face. www.sunfood.com

Drink or not drink the bottled water with the loose cap? That is the question.

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sebastian

Pupul Jayakar wrote in her book, J. Krishnamurti A Biography, that as the time of Krishnamurti’s birth approached, his mother prepared the room, sang Teluga songs to her husband in her melodious voice, and rested on a mat. . . . ” And that “For eleven days of the prescribed period, the baby rested in an atmosphere that recreated the ambiance of the womb. He lay in semidarkness gently rocked in a cloth cradle next to his mother as in all Orthodox Hindu births. Krishnamurti’s entry into the dazzling light of the sun and the world was gradual.” www.jkrishnamurti.org

Sebastian, my grandson, entered the world on 25 May 2006. The delivery room at the hospital where he was born contained a happy staff. Ah, so important. There was a lot of merriment at the time of his birth, and Sebastian’s parents, Alicia and Michael, were alert, helpful and laughing, and the doctor was compassionate and encouraging throughout the delivery process. I’m sure that the little one felt joy in the room at the moment of his entrance. It seems a very kind way of starting life. Just as Krishnamurti’s mother prepared for his birth, Sebastian’s parents prepared in their own loving way for him.

Imagine that-you’ve finally arrived dear Sebastian! It’s an absolute delight to have you with us. May your life have-among other things-love, joy, compassion, understanding, beauty, harmony, success and abundance (in whatever those two words mean to you).

Welcome, Sebastian, to this fascinating world.