My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Spent the last two days in 'retreat' with a few Buddhist teachers and 37 participants. And I must say. I am feeling fortunate to be able to do this, to have the $$ to afford to pay for a retreat (paid pre-covid) and to immerse myself in the teachings, specifically the Eight-fold path which constitutes the Fourth Noble Truth (there will not be a quiz). As you know, I have studied Buddhism for many years and I still feel like a rank beginner. My mind still wanders, I still think evil thoughts, I still overeat and am lazy and so on. But as I heard a teacher once say, 'I 'm a little less reactive than I used to be.' Perhaps that could be arrived at just by getting older. I like to think it's partly because of my practice.

My practice has also put me in the way of some remarkable people: Sharon Salzberg, Joseph Goldstein, Jack Kornfield, Analayo, Ma Kamala, many beautiful nuns, my dear teacher Adrianne; all people who  have dedicated their lives to offering a way out of suffering.

Forgive me for sounding like an advertisement for a spiritual practice. No one has to join. I merely sharing my gratitude today for my good fortune.

My gall bladder is still pestering me. Before covid I was contemplating getting it out. After 55 years, I've had enough. It has certainly taken a back seat to more pressing concerns, ha! The surgeon called me in mid-March and we both said-nah, not now. I hear that hospitals are allowing for elective surgeries but, um, I'll wait. Mostly, it doesn't hurt, just feels like pressure. Sigh.

My swimming pool ladies who I miss like crazy are having a 'wilding' in the pool parking lot  next Monday. I can't wait. I'm gonna cue up Steve Winwood's Higher Love.



And then there's this-the perfect answer to our current lives: