A Florist & Cafe

While we were in Marfa, Texas, we had breakfast at Buns 'n Roses--cafe & florist. Now that is my type of cafe. Being Texas, the cafe/florist shared its place of business with a welding and wrecker service.

The breakfast was delicious, and the decor inside the cafe in the quonset hut was a florist's refrigerator, a table of potted plants, and a wall of vases and gifts.

Although i think immediately of the Joan Baez song Bread and Roses, I suppose the name of the cafe is a nod to the hard rock band Guns N' Roses. How do we reconcile the use of guns to kill people, with the roses that decorate a funeral casket? Perhaps we are trying to come to terms with the use of really big guns to bomb Syria, the resulting loss of lives, and the very disabling results of nerve gas among the survivors.

Fear drives defensiveness. To act fearlessly does not mean that we are entirely vulnerable. Now is the time to act from our heart--a beautiful rose, which nevertheless protects itself with thorns. Now is the time to respond with non-violence.

Fear has two meanings.  

Forget everything and run 

or 

Face everything and rise.

--  Zig Ziglar 

The Elements

I've returned home to the North Country, skin tanned by the west Texas sun, hair blown wild by the wind, and the body slightly dehydrated from the heat. The elements of heat and wind (air) showed their strength, but didn't arm-wrestle me to the rocky ground, though most plants looked parched. Surprisingly, standing in a 105 degree hot spring beside the Rio Grande on a 101 degree day felt really good on my bare feet..

Here in the North Country, the day is chilly, the sky is clouded, and mud and mud puddles are drying up. Green begins to twinkle in my brown gardens, inviting me outdoors.

Hot/cold, sun/clouds, heat/chill, wet/dry--our skin feels all of these. Some are pleasant; others unpleasant; and we react accordingly.

Really, the air is blowing through us. We breathe air, which is never ours anyway, and let it go when we exhale. We marinate in the temperature du jour--the sensations of our skin responding as it loses or gains heat continually. We drink water from the tap (from a well, from the city water tanks, which come from rivers and reservoirs). Our body feels solid, yet is ever-changing as water, heat, air, and solids enter, pass through the body, and exit via the trap doors at the base of the torso.

We ourselves are plain old elements, recombined.

They Call the Wind Mariah

Our latest adventure with Airbnb is staying in a 32-foot long house trailer, the 1970s type that has now been replaced by RVs. Last night the wind moaned and sighed and buffeted the trailer a bit. I was reminded of one of my favorite songs from childhood--They Call the Wind Mariah. Before spending time in west Texas, i never realized that the wind could be a felt personality.

The song is about a miner, longing for his girlfriend, and since i'm staying in the mining town of Terlingua, Texas, the lyrics seem very appropriate.

Yearning for anything--a girlfriend, distant children, more money--is another word for stress, suffering, and distress. Not that you have do anything about it, except simply notice the longing and how it feels in your body. Notice the wishing, the hoping, the non-acceptance of life as it is, right this minute.

Wind blowing, sun shining. Alone, but not lonely.


Way out west, they got a name
For rain and wind and fire.
The rain is Tess, the fire is Joe and
they call the wind Mariah.

 Mariah blows the stars around
And sends the clouds a-flying.
Mariah makes the mountain sounds
Like folks were up there dying.
Mariah, They call the wind Mariah

Now before I knew Mariah's name
And heard her wail and whining,
I had a gal and she had me
and the sun was always shining.

O, but then one day I left my gal.
I left her far behind me.
And now I'm lost, I'm oh so lost
Not even God can find me.

Mariah, O, Mariah,
They call the wind Mariah

I hear they got a name for rain
And wind and fire only
But when you're lost and all alone,
there ain't no words but lonely.

And I'm a lost and lonely man,
without a star to guide me.
Mariah, blow my love to me.
I need my gal beside me.

Mariah, Mariah.
I'm lonely can't you see?

Mariah, O, Mariah
Please blow my love to me
Mariah, blow my love to me


Lyrics and music by Lerner and Loew
from the musical Paint Your Wagon

The Hip Bone's Connected to the Leg Bone

My sweetie is wearing his los muertos shirt every evening that we go out to dinner in the ghost town of Terlingua, Texas. I like to point out the skeleton playing the (upright) piano on his shirt, since my sweetie is a concert pianist. His shirt also features a skeleton mariachi band, a male skeleton drinking beer, and a lady skeleton dancing.

"Seeing" the skeleton in yourself as well as in everyone else is one of the meditations on the body recommended by the Buddha. An easy form of the "32 Parts of the Body" meditation is to simply become aware of 3 of the parts--skin, flesh, and bones. Try it during your next meditation. Become aware of skin. Then imagine the flesh, muscle, tendons, ligaments, and fascia--perhaps rather quickly. Finally, become aware of the bones underneath the flesh. I do a quick scan from cranium down the neck bones to the shoulder bones all the way down to the toe bones.

When you stop to think about it, our skeleton might last a heck of a lot longer than our fleshly bodies. Let's stop taking it for granted, and simply notice that we are all walking-talking skeletons.

Mirages

Driving across southwest Texas, we kept seeing mirages of water on the road in front of us. A mirage is a peculiar trick. It looks like water across the road, but as you drive closer, it disappears.

The Buddha says

Form* is like a glob of foam; 
feeling, a bubble; 
perception, a mirage; 
mental fabrications, a banana tree**; consciousness, a magic trick.

However you observe them, 
appropriately examine them, 
they're empty, 
void 
to whoever sees them appropriately.

Our self is a mirage. Like a rainbow, it seems to exist, but then it doesn't.

* the body
**a banana tree has no heartwood, no core