I am a lame-ass blogger. I've been spending my time outside, walking and swimming, often with Felix along. The lake is warm and lovely for swimming so that's what I'm doing, when I'm not working. I swim and wear my suit for the rest of the day so I stay cool. Of course, I put my shorts back on over my suit so I look like I've wet myself.
A friend asked if a young pal of his could contact me about Buddhism and I said of course. So I email launched into a description of the basics, with a bit of my own experience thrown in-and I began to feel, as I usually do, that I could be teaching Buddhism, at least the basics. Which then leads to feelings of dissatisfaction and general grumpiness. What is my problem? As a midwife, I get lots of credibility for knowing what I know. And my Buddhist practice is 16 years old now. It's deeply and permanently embedded in my DNA, so much so that I move from that place almost reflectively. I don't mean this to sound fancy and ego-driven (but maybe it is???) but I periodically I find myself wanting to be a teacher, hanging out with other teachers and being all wise and shit.
Or maybe it's a more amorphous feeling that as I (as we, all of us) age, I have some real, honest wisdom to impart, just by living this long and experiencing what I have. So it's the tragedy of the old, that we ignore them because they're old and no longer relevant. In the meantime, they/we have great value and insight potentially. Bla, bla.
This weekend I see Maya and Milo and Tracy and Brian and their kids in Oregon where the Columbia and the Dechutes rivers combine/collide. Someone suggested that I do a rafting trip on the Dechutes. I once rafted on the Methow River and can I say. they give you these wetsuits that do not, I repeat, do not keep you warm or dry. They only make you look like a rubber seal. And you ride along with a bunch of strangers who are all looking for thrills and trying not to fall out of the raft. They feed you lunch half-way there and then you get back in the flippin' raft and continue on, thoroughly cold and wet by then, with a peanut butter sandwich sloshing around in your stomach.
So nope, I don't think I'll be seeking a rafting experience this time out. I'm bringing my bike and books and music and home made spaghetti sauce. I intend to be lazy and relaxed.