GinohnNews

G: I had a Greenbelt Pottery meeting/potluck with a little extra birthday party thrown in to go to on Friday night. I made a two lentil stew that was a big hit and almost completely Fuhrmanized. We chatted and ate and discussed purchasing items for the clay studios in the Greenbelt Community Center, and did some organizing for our next Empty Bowls event (Saturday, March 10, 4 -7pm, get tix from me in Feb. if you want...)

Then a few of us hung around long enough to watch a pottery video of Val Cushing who was one of my teachers and advisers at Alfred. The sound was terrible and there were other low quality problems with it, but it was enjoyable overall.

Saturday night was The Pirate Feast, and John and I went to help out. I stayed behind the bar pouring drinks most of the evening. It's a fine place to see everybody. We stayed until the bitter end helping clean up. It was a great event and I'll probably work it again next year. Ar.

Sunday we went to do yoga with Izolda leading at the Community Center. She rented the dance studio for about 10 people to split the cost - but there were only 5 of us! The rest of the folks canceled for one reason or another. Feels good to stretch but it was a bit cold in there and I didn't like breathing deeply because the floor was still outgassing from the last shellacking it had.

Then John and I headed up to Germantown to go to a dog adoption show with Tara's House Rescue. We didn't meet any dogs that I was particularly crazy about, although they all had their own attractiveness and charm in one way or another. None seemed nearly as good to me as a dog we were planning on going to West Virginia to see - Leo, a golden retriever mix who was only 35lbs (I am looking for a small dog, I imagine that is my upper limit for size). His picture may be near the top of this webpage for a limited time.

Ever since I started looking for a dog, I'd see one online that I actually get excited about, want to meet, and either right away or before I can meet them I get told they have already been adopted. This happened about 5 times. So I was careful at first. I even mentioned this when I emailed and applied to adopt Leo. I was told he was available and would I like to come meet him? I said yes, very much and tried to arrange it. I might have tried to go Monday but with snow still on the ground there it didn't seem like a good idea, and there didn't seem to be a hurry. Nonetheless I picked the next possible day to go and started getting it in my head that this dog would be perfect and that we were going to get him. I became convinced we were going to bring him home and even bought dog food. The foster was slow to communicate and brief in her answers to me, and I had to ask more than once for directions. My last email asked a couple of logistical questions and for directions again and the answer came back that he'd been adopted that night.

Now I didn't get my heart set on this dog for no reason. I've been looking at a lot of dogs and this dog was by far the best match for us that I had seen. He was beautiful, a mix breed with a breed I am fond of and is very suitable for us (except for size), the right age, the right color, and a boy. I was led to believe he was available and then he wasn't. I even had asked if I needed to get there sooner to make sure I got to meet him.

So I was pretty devastated. I'd had days of imagining him with us. I also felt betrayed and deceived, although the lady was probably just flaky. I guess the dogs I like, other people like too. It seems too difficult to "shop" online for a dog. I admit I am picky. I am happy to rescue a dog that needs a home and I would never buy from a breeder. I just want that dog to be a dog that I want.

J: A nice email from Denndad:

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I have been interested in your epiphanies about washing dishes.  Not that I am interested in washing dishes.  But, as a young boy living in what was called the "Children's home" after the divorce of my parents, I was assigned the job of peeling potatoes.  I guess I was considered to be too young to do the barn work...milking cows, etc.  But that is what I really wanted to do, cause that is what the bigger boys were assigned to.  But at the age of 12, I looked more like a six year old.  Well, anyhoo, I used to hate hate hate peeling the potatoes...(this was done early in the morning, before breakfast, and before you went to school.)  And it was for 60+ people, which as they used to say, is a lot of spuds.  Well after awhile I accepted my destiny and decided to make a science of it..to see how fast I could get the job done and how well I could do it.  There came a point where I actually enjoyed peeling the spuds, and to this day do not mind it at all. So I understand your present infatuation regarding the dishes.

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Ultimately, overcoming suffering sometimes involves embracing that suffering, but I don't know if such an embrace can be forced. I suppose, given enough dishes and time (40 years?), that in order to survive in a happier state I succumbed to a "meta-Stockholm Syndrome"—instead of sympathizing with one's oppressor, one sympathizes with oppression itself.

It's kind of masochistic, I guess, but it gets the dishes done and the potatoes peeled, and it can let in a little happiness as well. I view this as a small step toward Satori; it's a visitation of the spirit of Patty Hearst (patron saint of Stockholm Syndrome) in her purest form. I might even add it as the 5th noble truth in the Buddhist teachings:

1. Suffering exists.
2. The source of suffering is craving and desire.
3. Suffering disappears when craving and desire disappear (see #2).
4. Freedom from suffering comes by detaching oneself from craving and desire (see #3).
5. Freedom with suffering comes by attaching oneself to suffering, and fully accepting its presence (see #1).

I remember another example of this 5th noble truth. I once spent ten years without a car. I rode motorcycles through all kinds of weather, including freezing cold. I learned how to prepare for the cold, both physically and mentally. Even today, ten years after a decade of riding, I am able to walk outside in the cold without suffering as much as others appear to be suffering. Part of my trick is that I accept the cold. I don't wish it away; I relax and walk with it, letting it wash over my body. Am I cold? You bet! But it doesn't bother me half as much as it would if I huddled and hugged myself, and walked stiffly, trying to keep the cold out. Try it sometime. Accept the cold. You might notice that as you relax and walk easily, hands swinging by your side, that you stop shivering. You might find that you actually like the cold.

Of course, in the face of real suffering—not wimpy suffering like dishes, spuds, or cold weather—one must be a ninth level zen master (perhaps living in a comic book universe) to successfully activate the 4th and 5th noble truth. If, for instance, you are drowning, it's going to take some serious concentration to 1) detach yourself from craving air, or 2) fall in love with the torture of breathing water.

I'll end with a quote I saw recently, one that I find resonates well with my newly found joy of dishwashing.

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For most of life, nothing wonderful happens. If you don't enjoy getting up and working and finishing your work and sitting down to a meal with family or friends, then the chances are that you're not going to be very happy. If someone bases his happiness or unhappiness on major events like a great new job, huge amounts of money, a flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that person isn't going to be happy much of the time. If, on the other hand, happiness depends on a good breakfast, flowers in the yard, a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to live with quite a bit of happiness."
 -Andy Rooney