Wheat-Colored, Dry, Summer Grasses

I have two more hours to chant until I finish my current daimoku campaign. I’m very excited about this, and I’m also very excited about the writing conference I’m attending this Saturday. I still need to revise my pitch, my synopsis and a few other things and then I’ll be good to go! John’s brother was visiting this weekend, so we met for dinner at his parents’ house in Gilroy. It was good to see John’s brother and I was able to share with him a little bit about my Buddhist practice. I really believe that this Buddhism is so incredible, but often I’m not able to communicate this very well with other people. I need to work on this!

The voices continue to diminish slowly but surely. I hear almost no yelling anymore, and only occasional whisperings here and there. Not much as to deal with as before. What a big difference! As much as I tried, I never got used to the screaming, yelling and the threatening whispers in my ear. It isn’t something anyone could ever get used to. Still, the more the voices continue to diminish in my life, the more I am able to appreciate the quiet and the stillness that has been gone from my life for so many years. It’s such an incredible calmness that even this afternoon, staring at the reeds and grasses blowing in the wind along the bay brought back memories of when I was younger. I was reminded of a weekend camping/waterskiing trip along the Sacramento Delta with my parents and my two older brothers. We were sitting on the wheat-colored, dry summer grass eating sandwiches and cheese on top of a picnic quilt that my mom had laid out for us to sit on. I stared off silently into the distance, watching the long grasses swaying back and forth in the summer sun. I wondered what it would be like to live off the land, out in the country-side somewhere, far away from civilization as I knew it. Maybe Wyoming? I always imagined living life differently from the way I grew up in the Sunnyvale suburbs. I’m not sure why. I think I took a disliking to other people at an early age, and often daydreamed about living life on my own, perhaps in the wilderness surrounded only by mountains and streams. This never happened. I spent my childhood in Sunnyvale, left to join the Peace Corps and attended graduate school on the East Coast. Eventually I came back, and am now reminded of memories of when I was young.

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