Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

By Peter Lovenheim
The New York Times
Published: June 23, 2008
Brighton, N.Y.

Why is it that in an age of cheap long-distance rates, discount airlines and the Internet, when we can create community anywhere, we often don’t know the people who live next door?

Maybe my neighbors didn’t mind living this way, but I did. I wanted to get to know the people whose houses I passed each day — not just what they do for a living and how many children they have, but the depth of their experience and what kind of people they are.

Read the rest here.

Image by Sophia Martinek courtesy of The New York Times.

It Happened Last Friday Night

The time was about 9:45, and I was finishing some reading before going to sleep. Suddenly the front door buzzer went off with a sound that startles me every time even when I know someone is about to ring it. I went to the intercom and asked (okay, it was more like demanded) who was there. I heard a female voice saying "Venerable" but that was all I could hear above the static. I asked several more times who it was but the intercom is not one of the apartment’s better features and I finally decided that if someone was saying venerable, it had to be for me. (Even at 10PM, my mind is razor sharp. (Smiley with eyes rolling))

I pressed the button to open the door, opened my door to the inner lobby, and wondered who on earth was walking in the front door. Then I saw her. It was Clara who if you had asked me I would have said was about three hours west of me the other side of Chicago. But she wasn't there, she was here. Standing at my door. At 9:50 pm.

Ever the gracious hostess, I think I said something like “What are you doing here?” or “I didn't know you were coming!”  (Clearly my mind isn't as razor sharp as I would like to imagine.) 

Clara was holding a rolled-up sleeping bag and small overnight bag. I, on the other hand, had been in the middle of packing and there were packing boxes everywhere. After repeating my gracious (smiley with eyes rolling again) welcome, I asked her in.

I offered Clara some water, which was all I had to drink, and explained that I only had two eggs for breakfast. (There's my gracious-hostess self again.)  She smiled and said she'd take me out to breakfast the following morning. I showed her into what had been my mother's bedroom and said she could spread her sleeping bag on the oriental carpet. (Okay. Looking back, this part wasn't so bad. It's a beautiful carpet and I had slept on it one night so I knew it was doable.) Then, I got some towels and put out some things in the guest bathroom for her.

During all this, we discovered what had happened. Or rather more like what hadn't happened.

Clara had emailed me a few weeks ago to say she might be in Indiana and asked if she could come to see me. I replied that she was very welcome. (Given enough notice, I can be polite!) Plus, the timing would be perfect for me because I had two boxes of books to go the Amitabha Buddhist Library in Chicago, which she attended, and needed a few CDs from the library's distribution supply.

Clara emailed back that everything was tentative and she'd get back to me. This is where "it" happened. Or rather didn't happen.

Clara continued to email me at the same email address she had been using and let me know that she had the CDs and would be coming to see me. She wrote a few more emails as well, but I never received them. She thought I was too busy to reply and didn't want to bother me so just went ahead with her plan to visit me. After all, if two emails went through why would the others not reach me. When she called me on Friday night, I had already turned off my phone for the evening. 

You'll be glad to hear that we had a very good breakfast at Rachael's at the Goshen farmer's market Saturday morning. After we came back, Clara put the now four boxes of books in her car. She had asked how I was getting to Chicago on the 27th, and I had explained I was taking one train into Chicago and another to Naperville. She explained that she had another appointment in Indiana on Friday the 26th and would very much like to come to Elkhart and drive me to Chicago on the 27th.

Now you have to agree that this is a brave woman and a good Buddhist. She was not only volunteering to again come to my door on a Friday night, she was trying to convince me to accept her offer instead of taking the trains.

After she returned to Chicago, she emailed me saying I had been a very gracious hostess. She also wrote that  when she realized that I was not expecting her, she had been prepared to return home that night, happy to have been able to give me the CDs and bring the books to the library for me. 

The brave woman part is easy to see. If you haven't yet figured it out, let me help you. Ringing my doorbell at 10pm can be very risky! But why the good Buddhist? Clara was flexible. She adapted very quickly to a new situation and wasn't attached to her idea of what would happen. When it looked like the conditions weren’t right, she was happy that she had been able to help me. She didn't get upset or frustrated. She was all set to accord with the conditions. Ready to accord with the conditions, she remained calm and thoughtful.

As I said: a good Buddhist.

Sorting and Packing and Storing! Oh, My!

To those who have noticed a slowing down of posting in the past two weeks, I do apologize. I am preparing to return to Australia and am busy sorting, packing, selling, donating, gifting, digging (for things I already sorted and packed but thank goodness still had in the apartment!), shipping, and storing.

If it wasn't for all the kind and, thank goodness, ORGANIZED people here helping me to get ready, I'd still be in the pre-sorting stage!

The packing has been especially challenging. Frankly, a person who cannot figure out what size container to put a meal's leftovers in should not, I repeat—NOT—buy the packing cartons. Thank goodness for Jim, who patiently and even cheerfully, went to the store and exchanged the large boxes for small ones.

I'll be in Australia next week and plan to resume my regular posting schedules. That's my plan, my intention. (Please remember that in everything we do, intentions are verrry important... ;-)) 

Perhaps an Age of True Peace?

We are living in a time of almost unimaginable change, a time in which our expectations are increasingly outpacing our world's ability to sustain them. How we face these changes has the potential to alter our future—for better or for worse. The following are a friend's thoughts, which she titled "A Cameo Appearance," on one possible outcome.

My heart has been so heavy with the slowly dawning understanding of the Earth’s peril. The bad news is all around me now. My grief has been devastating, and yet, with the help of Buddhist teachings, I have decided to look for the good news – because there is always another side to a problem. Good news – to see the hope and not the dark shadow of fear.

What good news can there be in this very hard time for the planet and its population?

Could it be that the apocalyptic conditions on earth will force us to wake up and face the truth of our actions? Could it be that this enormous danger will increase cooperation and force us to work together as a one-world community? We will be forced to allow creative entrepreneurship and inventiveness to succeed instead of feeding the greed of profiteers. Many wonderful ideas are being proposed to stop the downward slide of our world. Pockets of peace are still thriving and teaching us how to love the planet. It could be that this is the time for the “sinking boat” ethos to push us all together on this sinking planet.

Could it be that the great struggle for survival we are engaged in will trigger a mass consciousness rising and we will wake up in the dawn of the age of true peace that has been promised for all of us by many prophets over time?

Good Conditions

In last week's Monday classes, we read of how Anathapindika and Prince Jeta gave the Deer Park Monastery in Shravasti to the Buddha.

Very simply, when Anathapindika heard what a wonderful teacher the Awakened One—the Buddha—was, Anathapindika covered the ground of Deer Park with gold to buy the land as a gift for the Buddha.

Subsequently, the Buddha spent much of his time at Deer Park and delivered many of his great teachings there. Even though he was not a monastic and thus did not stay with the Buddha in the park, Anathapindika heard many of those teachings.

He was able to do so because of good conditions.

He had the conditions to be extremely wealthy. But he did not keep his wealth to himself. He had been given the name of Anathapindika for it meant the Benefactor of the Destitute. When he heard from his sister what a wonderful teacher the Buddha was, Anathapindika wanted to make an offering and decided that the Deer Park would be a fitting one. 

What is helpful to learn from this is that Anathapindika did not wait for Prince Jeta to have the idea of offering the land to the Buddha or for someone else to invite the Buddha to stay in Shravasti. Anathapindika planted the seeds to have the right conditions to be able to be close to the Buddha. Planting the right seeds, he reaped his good results.