Tuesday, September 27, 2005

any garden is possible

Anything is possible, he said.

And the Dalai Lama picked at his ear.

It’s encouraging to know that two habits of mine are put in action by two wise men.

This morning The Good Doctor returned after a few days away. I arrived as he was about to disappear into the restroom. He looked weary and gave me a brief rundown of a frantic past evening and more frantic morning, which was about to plunge him anchorless into a long conference call.

Given the latter, I needed to ask right then. "Would it be possible for me to work half a day tomorrow?" Not the best timing, I know, but it looked like he might be occupied for the rest of the day and I had a situation. At the climax of Murphy’s law, he said, "Anything is possible." And disappeared.

Sunday one friend invited me to see the Dalai Lama in the morning; another friend invited me to a sex toy party in the afternoon. Back to back.

The Dalai Lama gave a lecture at Rutgers football stadium. An honorary doctorate degree in human letters was conferred upon him, and he spoke about peace, war, and reconciliation. Monks chanted and a flute and percussion concerto followed. The stadium was packed. In red robes he arrived on stage, put his hands together and bowed. Then he waved everyone to sit down, which he then did stage-front.

Tibetan syllables resounded from the microphone, and is-it-all-going-to-be-in-Tibetan flushed across the faces in the stadium. The translator translated, then the Dalai Lama continued mostly in English. When he didn’t know a word or a phrase he shifted between the two languages and the translator translated.

He spoke about the negativity of anger and jealousy and the way those emotions cause people to act in ways they themselves don’t want to. He said that he too experiences anger and jealousy. For example, he said, I feel jealous about the beautiful English this man is able to speak. A smile came and his robed shoulders jiggled with laughter.

Early in the lecture he said he hoped that what he had to say would not be boring. At least, he said, the weather was nice—not too hot, not too cold. This was true. Later he apologized if anybody was offended by his informal manner of speaking to us, but it was the way he preferred, as if we were all old friends. He acknowledged that most of us were not as old of friends as others. His shoulders jiggled some more.

Let’s celebrate that. Formality is a language I don’t understand very well. I understand being polite and showing respect, but I don’t understand why it is ever preferable to cause uncomfortable distance in a situation for the sake of some supposed superhierarchical formality. As far as I can tell, it’s averse to living.

Because the event was in a football stadium, the Dalai Lama was barely visible on the stage to people not sitting directly in front, so he was projected onto a big screen. At one point during his talk, he put his finger in his ear, in one of the top folds, and began digging. Then he looked at his finger, speaking on.

I do this very thing, the ear. I don’t know why. It’s a habit like other people twirl their hair or pick their fingernails. People on the bleachers noticed him doing it, but he didn’t notice. Or he didn’t care. I felt deep partnership in the deep quest.

By visiting the link above, you can see a video of the lecture. I haven’t yet, so I don’t know if the whole thing is there or not, but because it may be I’ll leave the talk of peace, war, compassion, reconciliation, and the need for large-scale lifestyle changes to him.

As I drove away from New Brunswick, I called my mom. I had forgotten to tell her I was going to see the Dalai Lama and a spread of sex toys. "I’ve got you on speaker phone," she said. "Your dad is here, too." Ok. I told them both.

I had woken up at 7am. It was then nearly 2pm, and I hadn’t yet eaten. I was well on my way to enlightenment. My vision was transcendent and I couldn’t feel the difference between my hands, the steering wheel, or the air coming in through the moon roof.

At the party, wine and good snack was consumed and sex toys were sold like Tupperware. Vibrator technology has come much further than I knew. A few were shaped like elephants. I am fond of elephants. So fond that a sleep doctor and I are going to start an elephant polo team. As soon as our WEPA membership goes through.

Never before had my tongue tasted so many ointments to be rubbed on the body. By the end of the party my mouth was wine-dark, lips tingling with banana-flavored nipple sensitizer, and I smelled like a pheromonic garden of infinite delight.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I also enjoy digging in my ear. while reading your post, I realized I had just finished a deep dig. Here's to ear scabs and chunks of wax for the good of humanity!

- Melissa (blogger works shit in safari and I can't get the login to show up)

11:46 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

Thanks, finnegan. Inadvertant, yes, a neurotic hiccup of punctuation. I frequently note names that would be great for all those bands I haven't started yet. Where to begin.

Congrats on your deep dig, Melissa. Your birthday is coming and it's the day before my grandpa's. I'll probably tell you this again later in the week, after a couple of drinks.

3:39 PM  
Blogger {illyria} said...

could i have your life but a moment? i need more sex toy stats. glad the day was good and shimmery.

1:58 AM  
Blogger Sara said...

transience, i'd be delighted to invite you into my life. come on over. then we can swing by yours.

8:42 AM  

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