So I went to my UU sangha last night. I realized that I was fairly distracted -- not all that "present" -- by just stuff that's going on. Son 1 has decided where he wants to go to college, and (sure enough) it's not the one I was rooting for. Wife claims she can't get to her e-mail and therefore can't find any of the asset proposals I've sent her, so now I have to send them all by snail-mail. We have a big audit coming up soon at work. You know, ... that kind of stuff. Superficial stuff that makes me distracted and not really there.
During our dharma study we read an article from a recent issue of Shambhala Sun. (The article is linked here, but that seems to be only a stub and not the whole thing.) What interested me was that during the discussion it became apparent we had each gotten something very different out of it.
One woman had been profoundly stirred by the call to gratitude -- deep, immeasurable gratitude towards one's parents, in particular. Another answered sharply, "Gratitude? For what? Giving me life? It's just an accident whether this sperm and that egg ever meet up. Sacrificing for me? We all sacrifice things, why make a big deal out of it? Besides it wasn't just me ... they had other children. And I'd never want my children to think they had to trudge through life shouldering some huge burden of unpayable debt to me. What a horrible way to live! I guess I can understand the general idea of being grateful to your ancestors collectively ... but honestly I'd rather start a couple of generations back."
Afterwards I told her that I completely agreed, at least as far as what I want for my own children is concerned. I've talked here (at least a bit) about how frustrated I get at my father, and so I don't really know what level of gratitude I feel on that front ... or could cultivate. My mother, naturally, is a saint: the proof is that she's been married to my father for 55 years.
What struck me about the article was the description of different flavors of anger in the very first paragraph. I remember years ago, when I used to get a lot more angry than I do now -- and a lot oftener. My anger had a very specific flavor of its own, too: it would come on all of a sudden, course through me like a wave rushing to shore, then crash and recede, leaving me to puzzle, "What was all that about?" And then it was gone. Wife never understood this, because for her anger is something permanent. So she always panicked when I got angry because she assumed it was forever, never seeing that once I was over it I was really over it. I think I've talked about this before, but I'm not sure how to find the right posts to link them. (My indexing on this blog could use some improvement.)
I also wish I could give some kind of helpful advice on how I got to the stage where I am now, where I'm not subject to the same kinds of sudden spells. [Knock wood.] I don't know what drove the change ... just that it happened. I did relate in sangha that I realized it was time to back down when I heard the boys -- who were quite young at that point -- coin a couple of phrases as descriptive superlatives: "As sad as Mommy" (because of Wife's chronic depression) and "As mad as Daddy." Slow down, Hosea. Bad example to set. I'm grateful that I don't seem to be afflicted the same way these days.
And then I had a long conversation in the parking lot afterwards with a woman in the sangha whose son graduated from the same college that Son 1 wants to attend. She told me a lot about his experience, but also about the school in general. Actually his experience wasn't so good: his grades tanked after his sophomore year, he took a long time to finish his degree, his parents ended up massively in debt, and he's now unemployed. But she pointed out that there were some special features of his experience and it wouldn't have to be the same with Son 1 ... also, that a lot of points about the school are really exciting. So she persuaded me that on the whole it will be fine -- a conclusion I had already reasoned my way to, but I was glad for the boost.
No snappy conclusion, but maybe that's all I have to say about that.
No comments:
Post a Comment