Dear Sandra,

OK, you’ve got me beat. I read your article (in the February-March Atlantic) about why you want your father to die. I went through a similar situation with my mother between 2000 and 2009. I never actually wished for her to die, but portions of my subconscious did toy with the notion at times. I’m sure that my brother had a similar mental struggle, but even more so, given that he actually lived with her and took care of her each day over those nine years. He went though a lot of angst in the first few years as his life and his freedom were mostly taken away. During one clumsy wheelchair episode during the first year, he threatened to kill me.

His day and night revolved around Mom’s growing needs. I lived 10 miles away and went on with my life mostly as before (except during the emergencies and hospital stays); with the caveat that a portion of my take home-pay was no longer mine, needed for the homecare assistants that allowed my brother to continue working and maintain some semblance of a social life. In the end I was out $175,000. Not quite the half million that you cite, but if you include the cash that my brother contributed, plus the insurance premiums we paid since 1985 to maintain a long-term care policy, you get into the 500K ballpark.

So yes, my brother and I paid some elder care dues. But no, not quite the level that  »  continue reading …

While driving to work the other day, I heard a newscast discussing the recent video of US Marines urinating on the bodies of fallen Taliban fighters in Afghanistan. The announcer noted that the video had “gone viral” in the past day. In other words, people found it so interesting that word about it spread rapidly, like a virus. So, we have another new expression in our language courtesy of modern technology: viral videos.

Personally, I don’t spend much time watching videos on the internet. I’d rather read an article or view a still picture. I have more control over the narrative with those versus watching “dynamic imagery”. I guess that’s why I don’t watch a lot of TV nor go to the movies very often. There is a difference in the balance of power between “still media” and “dynamic media”, with videos, movies and TV shows having more control over what you take away from them.

But many people get bored very quickly, and dynamic imagery usually stimulates the brain much  »  continue reading …

Today at the zendo, our ‘practice circle’ discussion focused upon the “red thread” of human passion. Long ago, as a young man, I walked down this pathway in the Washington Spring Garden park in Paramus, NJ, very much in love. I was involved with a lovely woman, and together we followed the red thread of our passions. Some of our best moments, our simplest and yet most profound times together, we spent along this pathway.

Our paths eventually went separate ways, the red thread for us frayed and ended. And yet, the threads are still there in all of our lives and along all our paths, if one looks closely. If Zen means nothing else (or means nothing at all, as some of the teachers might like to say), it means looking closely and carefully at life, to see all the things that we pass up in our hurry to get ahead or not get behind.

And so I’m not in any great state of passion right now, but I’m still searching for the thin but myriad red threads of passion that are woven through most every aspect of life. They are not as obvious as young romance, but they are there, in the stillness. They can yet be seen today along the Spring Garden pathway.