I Cannot Cover the World with Leather, but I Can Transform My Heart

As we walk through the villages and streets of Antigua and the surrounding towns, we give money and clothes and buy food and supplies for everyone we can. Samy correctly observed that the more we give, the more poor people there seem to be. How can we help everyone? I told her about this beautiful teaching by Master Shantideva, from the "Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life:"

Chapter 5 v13
Where would I possibly find enough leather
With which to cover the surface of the earth?
But wearing leather just on the soles of my shoes
Is equivalent to covering the earth with it.

Chapter 5 v14
Likewise it is not possible for me
To restrain the external course of things;
But should I restrain this mind of mine
What would be the need to restrain all else?

It is not possible to help every person in need here in Guatemala or in the rest of the world. What we can do is transform our hearts to love every single being the way we love our parents and children; to not only wish them happiness and freedom from suffering but to do as much as we can, individually and collectively, to make that happen. Only by transforming our hearts can we transform the world around us.

Gifts That Keep Giving

I love how things just fall into place here in Guatemala. During our visit to San Antonio des Aguas Calientes, the grandmother -- Abuella -- heard we were going the next day to Santa Maria de Jesus and said she wanted to come too. We assumed she knew people in SMDJ, and wanted to visit. We arranged that she would meet us in the Parque Central -- the central square of Antigua.

At noon on Sunday, we drove up to the central square, and sure enough, there she was. In the winding car ride up Volcan Agua, it turned out that she didn't know anyone in SMDJ. But she had never been in a car before (she's 61) and wanted to get out for the day! Then, as we drove up, the driver asked us if we knew how to get to either Edgar's or our other family's house. We didn't, but had faith that somehow it would work out. As we rounded the turn from the mountainside into SMDJ, there was Edgar, leaning against a concrete post, waiting for us with his bicycle, wearing his Gas Lamp Players' "Show Me The Beast" t-shirt! And we followed him to his family's house.

It is hard to explain the deprivation in which Edgar's family lives. Edgar's mother is nursing her 11th child, who is only 3 months younger than Edgar's baby, and our godson, Elmer. Edgar has two older sisters who are married and live nearby with their husbands; the other 8 children are 14 and under. For a while, the entire family was homeless because Edgar's father had a drinking problem and stopped working. But he stopped and now works seasonally on a coffee plantation picking and sorting beans, for which he makes $4 a day. Off season, he tries to find construction work at $2 - $3 a day.

Edgar supports his wife and son, and supplements his father's income with his work for "From Houses to Homes," (FHTH) for which he is immensely grateful. He and his parents each live in homes built by FHTH and the other children sleep in a cornstalk shack between the two cinderblock houses. The families have two "kitchens" -- cornstalk enclosures with a fire inside. They all share one outhouse -- a hole in the ground with a bottomless toilet on top of it. The compound is enclosed by cornstalk "walls," and, except for the concrete floors of the FHTH homes, the "floors" are dirt. It is incredibly dusty. All of the children are covered with layers of grime that they wash off with rainwater collected in big drums.

Edgar's younger siblings' shoes are worn and cracked. One of the pairs of sneakers that we brought (thank you Annie Bayne) fit his youngest brother and you can not imagine how excited he was to receive them. When we were leaving, kids from the neighboring alleys came running up to admire them, getting down on their knees in the dirt to trace their fingers over them. And Edgar's brother was as proud of them as Dorothy her ruby slippers. It was that exciting.

On Saturdays, Edgar supplements his FHTH income with other construction work or coffee bean sorting. On Sundays, he rests and also tries to learn English. He proudly showed us a tape he is using to teach himself. I noticed that his English is much improved since we were here in February. None of Edgar's siblings go to school -- the family simply can't afford the meager school supplies that Guatemalan children are expected to provide for themselves. But Edgar is determined that his son's life will be different. And so it shall.

After visiting for about 1/2 hour, we went to see our "first family" we built for last February -- Flore, Tomas, Blanca, little Tomas and Jessica. They are well, and I am happy to say that the 3 chickens we bought last time we were here have not been consumed! They are each sitting on 10 eggs apiece, which will bring a nice income to the family.

Throughout or visit, Abuella kept a keen eye on all that was going on. It seemed perfectly natural to everyone that our "grandmother" from another family would be visiting our other families. When we brought her back home at the end of the day, she bestowed many blessings upon us. She is quite a woman -- I think that with education, there would have been no stopping her.

Happiness is a Goat

Today we visited our family in San Antonio des Aguas Calientes. Getting there was an adventure, as neither we nor our driver had an address. Our family lives on a plot of land carved into the side of the mountains surrounding the village; they don't get mail, and there is no name to their "street," such as it is. But we drove into San Antonio with hope. As we circled the streets, we saw the bright blue house that we helped build shining from afar in the sun like a beacon. As we got as near to it as we could, we recognized the street that accesses the alleys leading up the mountain. There were two women who had just finished washing their clothes in the local well, and we asked them which alley led to Florinda and Blanca's house. In Spanish, they exclaimed - look! it is the family of Samantha! And so we found our way.

It was a joyous reunion, with many hugs and squeezes. We sat in the house that we built, the 9 member family on the bed and floor, and Mariel, Samy and I on plastic chairs reserved for special guests. We gave away clothing and books and toys, and then Blanca (the oldest sister) brought in a baby goat on a rope. With money we had given them on our last visit, they had bought cow and a goat which had just had a baby. So there is milk for everyone and the possibility of income if they sell the baby goat. There was much happiness.

They invited us to stay and make a meal together. It is not easy to sit in the little kitchen -- a separate cornstalk shack in which they make a fire. The smoke is unbearable. Blanca made tortillas, and she, her mom and Abuella had a good laugh watching Samy and me try to make tortillas. It's not as easy at you would think, to roll the dough into a ball and toss it from one hand to the other to flatten it out! Everyone in the family helped make the meal -- the men kept bringing more wood for the fire; the oldest son tended the flames; the younger girls picked limes from the family tree for the marinades; and the 13 year old watched the two little ones. We truly felt like part of the family.

They rolled out a straw mat for us to sit on, and we ate our meal on the floor in the blue house. Churasco, guacamole, tomato sauce, a cucumber salad, and of course, lots of tortillas! It was delicious, and they were very gracious about my foregoing the churasco -- more for everyone else. As we sat with them, I thought about how Mariel and Samy are having some interesting experiences of the world. They are seeing that happiness can be as simple as having a goat.

Find An Angel

Arrived safely in Guatemala after a long day of traveling. I am so proud of my two girls - waking up at 4:15 AM and navigating through changing planes in Miami, customs in Guatemala, baggage claim and the 45 minute ride to Antigua with no complaints. Especially Samy, who has been sick all week and still has a hacking cough -- she pulled her suitcase, kept up with Mariel and me, and was a real trooper. I wonder what people thought, looking us, each with an individual rolling suitcase and backpack, plus 4 huge suitcases. I kept feeling the need to explain that we were bringing things for the poor, lest people think we were "over packers." The girls feel asleep during the ride to Antigua. I have a sweet picture of them nestled together in the back seat of the van, their arms intertwined and their heads facing each other like a ying/yang symbol. (I will post it later.) They woke up as we hit the cobblestones of the Antigua streets, and we were all smiles at the sight of the brightly painted buildings and familiar streets of our home away from home.

We are staying in "Hotel Antigua," which I recommend to anyone coming to do service work here. It is beautiful and simple, yet feels so luxurious. Our room is in the annex, which has a lap pool. After arriving we had our own private swim as there doesn't appear to be anyone else staying in the annex -- at least for now.

At 5:30PM, we made our way through the cobbled streets of Antigua to the office of From Houses to Homes, "FHTH." Mariel and I took turns pulling the enormous suitcase that Liz Contreras donated to us, filled with some of the amazing donations you have given. Earlier, I had separated out all the donations into four groups -- for the FHTH workers and their families, our San Antonio des Aguas Calientes family, and our two Santa Maria de Jesus families. Shortly after we reached the office, the trucks with the workers arrived -- all the men we have come to know and love in our times here -- Hector, Tomas, Louis, Esa, Mickey, and the others whose names I don't really know, and of course, Edgar. It felt like a holiday as we opened the suitcase and the guys separated out the stuff. So thank you to everyone who sent clothing with us. It was very, very appreciated!

We went to dinner afterwards with Joe Collins, director of FHTH, and Edgar. Joe told us all about the new school FHTH is building in Santa Maria de Jesus (SMJ), and the other great work the organization is doing. It is very inspiring to see the life Joe has chosen to lead. He has left behind the life he knew in NJ, and lives in Guatemala now. His life is very simple -- all of his time is devoted to serving the poor here. He has some friends who he meets at the Parque Central on Saturday and Sunday mornings, but otherwise his life is devoted to serving as many people as he can through FHTH.

We had a very tearful moment when Edgar spoke of how hard he is working to help his family. Speaking to Mariel in Spanish, he told us how he used to make 25Q ($4) a 14-hour day farming in SMJ and how grateful he is for his job with FHTH; how grateful he is that we come back to Guatemala; that we agreed to be his son's godparents; that we send support and come to visit; that we have changed his life and the lives of his family. We were all very moved.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama says that there are two basic routes to happiness. One is through material comfort and material pleasure. This, however, is not a guaranteed route - there are many people who have all or more than they need and are not happy. Look at our country -- people live in comfort unimaginable to most of the world and yet have all sorts of emotional maladies and discontent. Another route is through mental comfort -- there are many people who have very little in the way of material possessions who are nevertheless content and joyful. And yet, if someone is so lacking in material comforts that they are hungry and sick, it will be hard to be content, no matter how peaceful the mind. The challenge is to find the balance; to know that material comforts alone will not bring happiness without mental comfort. And that is the lesson I keep learning in Guatemala. I see people around me with so little, and yet with love and joy in their hearts. So as much as Edgar was thanking us, I was thanking him, although he doesn't understand why.

I am grateful to have found angels who are giving me and my family the opportunity to feel like angels. I urge everyone to seek out those people -- people who give you the opportunity to help them and the opportunity to feel like you are making the world a better place. We may think we are here to help them, but really, they are here to help us.

Namaste

All the World's A Garden

"That is all very well, little Alice," said her grandfather, "but there is a third thing you must do." "What is that?" asked Alice. "You must do something to make the world more beautiful," said her grandfather.
Miss Rumphius, Barbara Cooney

My mother is a gardener. From spring through fall, you can find her in her long pants, long sleeved shirt, and floppy straw hat, working in her garden. Eclectic and unpredictable, the garden winds and turns on a rocky, hilly, weedy piece of land that is difficult to manage. If the land itself did not present enough obstacles, there are the deer, chipmunks, and other wildlife to contend with. Plus, an in-ground sprinkler system is out of the question, and so my mother has devised a precisely choreographed sequence of manual lawn sprinklers for the hot summer days. Few people would have tackled this troublesome tract of land -- it is not a lush spot that calls out "garden me." And yet, under my mother's persevering hand and indomitable will, the land has yielded beautiful and fragrant flowers. People come to see this garden and marvel at how she has tamed the land, and created beauty in an unexpected place.

The garden says a lot about who my mother is, and the things she has taught me. She has always been determined and independent, marching to the beat of her own drum. Although she came of age and married in the 1950s, she was never content to "just" stay home. By the time I was 16, she had finished her dissertation and obtained her Ph.D., specializing in diagnosing and treating dyslexia long before it became known as a common learning disability. But when I look back on my childhood, what I remember most is her dedication to and love of the arts. I remember coming home to find her on her knees in the living room, acting out the death of Madame Butterfly. Unlike most children growing up in Brooklyn in the 1960s, I was as familiar with operas like La Traviata and Aida, and ballets like Giselle and Swan Lake, as I was with traditional children's fairy tales. While my friend's parents listened to Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett, I grew up listening to Mahler and Beethoven.

Once she retired from teaching, my mom's devotion to all things beautiful bloomed fully. She was able to actively pursue the Italian language and cooking classes she loved so much, and volunteer at the New York City Opera and Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. She has studied flower arranging -- making beautiful works of art out of the flowers she so dutifully tends. And she has added to her garden. Always one to notice and pay attention to an interesting view or a beautiful sunset, she has instilled in me the importance of pausing to see the beauty in the world around me. She has taught me that "if you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden." The Secret Garden

Thanks Mom.

Brahma, Vishnu, Dad

guru brahma guru vishnu guru devo maheswara, guru sakshat param brahma tasmai sri guruve namaha

To that teacher that is creation, to that teacher that is this very life, To that teacher that is all challenge and transformation, to that teacher within each of us, To that teacher beyond all things - formless and divine, I bow down and offer my life and efforts.

Last month, my father was inducted into the International Jewish Sports Hall of Fame. (who knew!) At a lovely luncheon at the Water Club, my dad was surrounded by family and friends, colleagues from the law, and partners and opponents from the many tennis courts he has played on over the last 60 years. As further evidence of my dad's loyal and gregarious spirit, even his internist, dentist, bankers, and former secretaries were there too.

In his speech, my dad said that he could not quite explain how he arrived at this time and place. He always did what he loved, whether it was his law practice, or the game of tennis, which he took up with great passion at age 18. And he always loved what he did.

Looking around the room, I thought about the seeds my dad had sown to be so successful in life -- not just in terms of material comforts, but in terms of his excellent health, athleticism, and most importantly, the joy and happiness he finds in life. He is in many ways an uncomplicated man with a big smile. Contentment is as much a part of his make-up as his skin or his breath.

His story is familiar but unique too: the son of immigrants who came to the United States with very little, he grew up in Brooklyn raising pigeons on the roof, playing basketball and street hockey with his friends. His group of 5 mischievous boys had a contest to see who could graduate from High School with the lowest GPA. My dad came in second. After high school, he worked on the Brooklyn docks. The work was hard, and so he decided to go to college even though he had no direction. In his second year, he took an aptitude test to try to figure out what to do in life. His guidance counselor said he should become an engineer, but when he found out that meant science and math classes, he decided to do the opposite and become a lawyer. Suddenly my dad found direction. He graduated from Brooklyn Law School in the top of his class and became Editor in Chief of the Brooklyn Law Review. (his friend who had "won" the High School delinquency contest became a professor of astrophysics at Harvard.) He married my mom, volunteered down South during the civil rights movement, went into private practice, and eventually became a plaintiff's lawyer, specializing in securities litigation. He picked up tennis in college and became as passionate about it as he did about the law. His true callings have always been his family, the law, and tennis, in no discernible order!

I have learned so much from my dad. He has always followed his heart with great passion. Despite becoming successful and "marrying up" (my mom's parents were cultured, first generation Americans, and my mom's dad was a lawyer -- my dad's parents were immigrants), the boy from Brooklyn stayed just that. Open always to all people from all walks of life, a defender of social justice and a friend of the underdog, he taught me that anything and everything is possible. He showed by example that being happy and content is our true nature, and that each experience we have is a teacher. He has approached life like a student in a big university, and the challenges he has met as his curriculum and teachers. Always learning, always an adventure.

Thanks dad.

Every Little Thing

Two weeks ago, I went to see The Scottsboro Boys, an amazing musical about a terrible tragedy in American history. Using the framework of a minstrel show, a terrifically talented cast of black actors and the irrepressible John Cullum tell the tragic tale of the repeated trials and convictions of nine black youths falsely accused of raping two white women in Alabama in the 1930s. At the final curtain, I was on my feet, tears streaming down my face, overcome by the thought of how much suffering humans inflict upon one another.

Although The Scottsboro Boys is about the racism of American whites against blacks, my tears were also for all the Jews killed by Christians, the Protestants killed by Catholics and vice-a-versa, Darfur, Somalia, Israelis and Palestinians, Muslims and Hindis, and on and on. It made me think about the fact that as long as humans have existed, we have found ways to classify ourselves in relation to others. Classification - dividing people into "us" and "them," is the first of the 8 stages of genocide, the ultimate and most extreme expression of prejudice and racism.

Why are there such extreme expressions of hatred in the world? The Yoga Sutras teach me that all of the violence I see in my world is caused by the way I have treated others in the past.

There is a connection of cause and effect: the seeds ripen into experiences refreshingly pleasant or painful in their torment; depending on whether you have done good to others or done them wrong instead. Book II.14

There is no option of separating myself from what I see. I can't blame it on someone else, or claim that it has nothing to do with me. My karma causes not only what I see, but the perception of the "me" who sees it. But I am a good person. I volunteer. I help others. I am kind and compassionate. How could the violence I see come from me? According to the commentary to the sutras:

It's crucial to realize that mental seeds act just like physical seeds. No one puts a corn seed into the ground and then stands there, expecting corn to pop up in a day or two. Mental seeds are planted in the mind simply by our being aware that we are doing, or saying, or thinking something toward someone else. Seeds enter the storehouse and wait to be called up, like airplanes standing in line to take off. The Essential Yoga Sutra, Geshe Michael Roach & Lama Christie McNally

So how does this connect to me and the violence I see in the world? Saturday, as I was leaving my house to teach yoga, I saw someone I know in town walking his dog. The thought flitted through my mind: "He's a bit peculiar." This was followed immediately by another thought: "He'd have to be to be odd to be married to __________ - she's such a character." I saw myself think these thoughts and immediately stopped short. Wasn't this a small way of classifying people as us (normal ones) and them (the odd ones)? And don't I/we think thoughts like this all day long? Just as a small acorn produces a giant oak tree, our small mental seeds manifest as much bigger experiences. Unchecked, these thoughts -- the thoughts I/we are thinking about others all day long -- grow into all the violence and hatred we see around us.

Here's the good news. It is possible to destroy these karmic seeds. 1. Recognize the ignorant/negative thought you have had. 2. Remorse: feel genuine remorse - not guilt - with the understanding that you are ultimately harming yourself. 3. Resolve: make a realistic resolution not to do this for a reasonable period of time - a few hours, a day, a week. 4. Remidiate: Take a positive action or thought to counteract the negative one. Do something nice for that person. Meditate on love and compassion, etc. 5. Absolve yourself. Don't beat yourself up. Just resolve to do better. (More on karma here.) Dedicate all of these steps to the negative seed and it will die.

And more good news: If you make it a way of life never to hurt others [and this includes thinking negative thoughts about others] then in your presence all conflict comes to an end. Yoga Sutras Book II.35.

Go see The Scottsboro Boys. It was incredibly well done and a story that should be heard. Watch your thoughts. If you catch yourself thinking ill of someone, stop and reflect. Maybe the reason that there is still conflict and prejudice in the world is because of the little thoughts we think all day long where we differentiate between "me" and "you," and "us" and "them. " And replace those thoughts with kindness and compassion. After all: We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness.- Thich Nhat Hanh

• Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. Bible: Galatians (6:7)
• Even as I have seen, they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same. Bible: Job (4:8)
• The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt. - Frederick Buechner
  

Mind Your Mind

Your experience of your life depends
on where you place your mind.
So place your mind with intention.
Be careful what you place in front of it.
Make wise choices about what you read, what you watch,
what you say, and what you do.
If you place violent images in front of your mind,
you will see them even when you try to turn your attention to peaceful things.
If you place loving, peaceful images in front of your mind,
this is where your mind will go.
Live simply and with few distractions.
Focus consciously.
Mind your mind.

Hearing the Voice

At a workshop recently with amazing Lama Kimberly Theresa, she said that people often wonder where God is. In the bible, it seemed like God was always talking to people - not just through visions but audibly so that anyone can hear. But where is he or she now? Lama K said that the "voice" is everywhere, if we just pay attention. It is in songs we hear over and over on the radio or can't get out of our minds. It is in recurring dreams, or passages that stand out to us in books. But we have to be "present" to hear it.

In biblical times, people didn't have facebook, twitter, computers, and all the other ways we distract ourselves. We like to think that we multitask, but really, we just fracture our attention. Multitasking is a myth. This was made apparent to me (again) as I drove my 3rd grader Samantha home on Friday from Alice In Wonderland (loved it!). She and her four friends wanted to listen to the Lion King in the car. They were all singing along, and then started talking about the movie. After a minute or two, Samy shouted out, "wow, I completely forgot we were listening to the Lion King while we were talking." All the other girls marvelled about that too. Luckily, I wasn't deep in thought about something else, and heard this comment.

The next morning, on my way to teach, I stopped to get a muffin. On the radio was the song Breathe (2AM). This is the part I tuned in to:

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

Then this morning, I was watching Field of Dreams with Samy. This is a movie that I've seen a zillion times, but this morning I heard the following line for the first time: "You know we just don't recognize the most significant moments of our lives while they're happening. Back then I thought, well, there'll be other days. I didn't realize that that was the only day."

And I remembered what Lama Kimberly said -- that if we just pay attention -- we'll hear divine messages all the time. We just have to tune in. We have to place our minds with intention, and work on keeping our focus. Only then, do we have the possibility of really hearing. As Samy pointed out, when you turn your attention to one thing, you forget about the other. These were divine teachings -- from my little lama, from the song I heard at the bakery, and from the line I heard as if for the first time in "Field of Dreams." We will only recognize the most significant moments of our lives if we are tuned in. So place your mind well.

1. Those who wish to keep a rule of life
Must guard their minds in perfect self-possession.
Without this guard upon the mind,
No discipline can ever be maintained.

2. Wandering where it will, the elephant of mind,
Will bring us down to pains of deepest hell.
No worldly beast, however wild,
Could bring upon us such calamities.

3. If, with mindfulness' rope,
The elephant of the mind is tethered all around,
Our fears will come to nothing,
Every virtue drop into our hands.

4. Tigers, lions, elephants, and bears,
Snakes and every hostile beast,
Those who guard the prisoners in hell,
All ghosts and ghouls and every evil phantom,

5. By simple binding of this mind alone,
All these things are likewise bound.
By simple taming of this mind alone,
All these things are likewise tamed.

Bodhicaryavatara of Shantideva circa 8th Century
Way of the Bodhisattva
(Padmakara Translation Group, Shambhala, 1997 pg 62 )